#people i love and care about and consider friends. who i already worry don’t actually like me.

[transboykirito]

you people are fucking insane

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Love your writing and love Flux!! I was hoping to request a kind of angsty/fluffy fic with the worst!wolverine where the meet her in the void and maybe Logan knew her just not very well and he’s finally letting himself open up and be close with her (likewise with reader/flux towards logan) and they get into an argument or maybe logan has a nightmare and he ends up stabbing her with his claws and maybe the aftermath of him beating himself up and sabotaging the new relationship until reader finally snaps him out of it and says it was an accident and she still loves him?? Thanks!!

mistake

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

a/n: I want to thank you for this request because I've been having the worst writer's block in the world. I was worried about having to go into another unofficial hiatus, but this made something in my brain click together and I knocked it out in two hours. my life is yours 🙏🙏 Summary: You know him. Or, you knew him. And you never blamed him for what happened in your world. It wasn't his fault that everyone you loved died and you barely escaped with your life. But you never actually thought you'd have to see him again. You don't know what to do when all these feelings resurface with his appearance.

No one truly knew who you were back in your universe. After the horrific incident at the mansion, you had run. You’d run as fast and as far as you could from the slaughter of your friends. You’d barely escaped with your life, and from the amount of blood and gore they’d left behind, most people just assumed you were dead. 

It’s not like anyone cared about you. Scott, Ororo, and Jean had been the real heroes. But it didn’t matter because they were still mutants at the end of the day. It didn’t matter how many people they saved. How many lives they positively changed, no one would ever see past the fact that they were mutants. 

Being one of the newer members of the recently disbanded X-Men gave you enough anonymity to get through daily life without being recognized. It did not, however, protect you from being sucked into the shit fest that is the multiverse. 

You’re not sure what it is about you that just attracts bad luck. You don’t know if it’s some hidden power that’s a part of your evolution. You’re just apparently perpetually fucked. The TVA had determined that you were interfering with the proper flow of your timeline or some bullshit. 

Now you’re here. Stuck in the void with nothing but decay and drunk former superheroes. If you have to watch one more Captain America ‘rally the troops’ you’re gonna kill him yourself. You’ve considered switching teams and joining Cassandra Nova at times. If only so you don’t have to deal with Johnny Storm and the rest of the dipshits. 

You get along with Laura, at least. She likes to tell you about her Logan and you like to dodge her questions about yours. She doesn’t need to know that not every version of Wolverine has a golden heart and story worthy of tears. Yours was a fuck up, plain and simple, but you never thought the incident was his fault. 

As much as others tried to push the blame on him. The people who raided the mansion were determined. There was no other way that day was going to end up. You’d just have one less X-Man. But people always love a martyr more than a victim. 

After a couple of years, you get used to the monotony. Your days are only occasionally broken up by dodging Cassandra’s henchmen and trying not to get sucked up into the soul destroyer. Other than that, you spend your nights getting drunk with Gambit and pretending you know whatever the fuck he’s talking about. 

“Laura! I managed to find some chocolate!” You run into the hideout looking for the girl. It’s rare to find good food that isn’t already a month past its expiration date. You weren’t planning on sharing the candy with her but you figured she’d smell it on you and it’s not worth the fight. 

Instead, you stop short as the familiar blue and yellow uniform you’d always try to force on him comes into view. He’s stealing Gambit’s liquor and you know that’s not going to go over well. What you don’t know is why you are so sure that this is your Wolverine. 

You’ve never had a Wolverine in the void. Not once. This could be any one of the hundreds of thousands of variants. But you see that look in his eye. That familiar watery gaze shows just how much he hurts, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 

“Logan?” You breathe his name out in disbelief. Bypassing the Deadpool standing nearby. You’ve dealt with enough of those in your time down here. He takes a step back, fixing you with a distrusting look. 

He keeps the bottle of alcohol clutched close to his chest like he thinks you’re going to take it. You track the movement and you scoff. “Right,” you shake your head and stop short. “Of course, the only thing you care about is still getting fucking drunk.”

He glares at you, taking a step forward like he thinks it might actually intimidate you. “Do I know you, bub?” He reaches forward, probably to jab his finger in your chest. You drop your gaze to his outstretched hand and narrow your eyes. 

The material of his suit fluctuates, pulling back and rippling over his arms like liquid and not spandex. He doesn’t notice the manipulation of matter until it's his skin you target. It melts off his adamantium bones and he stares down in horror. 

You know he's scared because he’s watching his body dissolve but he’s not feeling any pain. You could make it hurt, but that’s not what you want. You just want to see if he’ll remember you now. If there’s anything half-decent left in that alcohol-rotted brain of his.

“Flux,” he grits your X-Man name out through his teeth like it hurts him to say it. 

You nod and his skin and suit go back to normal, like you’d never tampered with it in the first place. “You do remember me, then?”

“Thought you fucking died with the rest of them.” Your face drops before you feel an astonished smile on your face. 

“You know, it’s a comfort to know nothing about my world has changed. You’re still the same spineless dick that left us all to die.” You shake your head and storm out of the hideout. You don’t know how long they’re planning on staying but you pray they leave soon. If you have to deal with him longer than a week, you’ll just kill him. 

You step outside just as Laura’s coming back from the bonfire. She greets you with a stiff smile and you wonder what’s got in her in a mood. It only takes a glance over her shoulder to find the reason.

Logan is sulking by the fire, nursing yet another bottle of whiskey. He’s drinking it like water and even with his healing, his liver should have turned to mush by now. “I can see why you didn’t tell me about him,” she mutters as she passes by you. 

You know she tried to be quiet but you can see the way Logan’s head tilts slightly towards you. He’s heard her and you know it has to sting just a little.

You glance down at the leaves under your feet, eyes glazing over as you feel the guilt sink into your stomach. You shouldn’t feel bad, you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t hurt him, technically, just reminded him who you were. But you still feel bad for what you said. 

You’ve never blamed Logan for what happened. And if you did, you would be a hypocrite. Because you survived too, and you left them all behind. You ran like a coward. You could never blame him when you failed to save them just the same. 

You take in a deep breath and steel yourself. You’ll just apologize, walk over there, and explain to him you didn’t mean what you said. You know he’ll be a dick about it. Claiming he doesn’t want your apology. You’ll just leave him alone after. 

You’re about to step forward when he barks out a gruff command, “Don’t fucking stare at me like that. I don’t want your company.” He turns back to the fire and takes another swig from his bottle. 

You roll your eyes and walk towards him. “You can be as miserable and self-pitying as you want, just let me say one thing.”

His head whips towards you so quickly you’re surprised you don’t hear it snap. “I’m not fucking pitying myself,” he grits out. You quirk your brows in amusement, glancing towards the bottle in his hand and the clear way he’s sulking. He turns his attention back towards the fire, intent on ignoring you again. 

“I don’t blame you for what happened,” you tell him. You ignore the warning look he shoots you, taking a seat beside him even if he doesn’t want you to. “I-” you choke on the words, struggling to admit to yourself what you’ve never wanted to. 

“Don’t.” You know it’s meant to be a warning. But when you look at him and see how completely broken he is, it sounds more like a pathetic plead. 

But you need to say this. As selfish as it is, you need to say this to someone., Need to unload this guilt you’ve carried for so long. “I was there, Logan. I could have saved them and I didn’t. I fucking ran.”

“Kid, don’t do this-”

“Jean was still moving,” you blurt out. You feel the way your heart speeds up at the admission. Your fingers shake and the air around you stills. 

His face drops and he slowly turns towards you. You’re afraid to look at him. You feel like a bunny staring down the snout of a wolf, there’s no escaping this. You’ve created this trap for yourself. 

“What?” He demands. His voice has lost that tremor of vulnerability. Instead, he sounds like he did when he first found out what had happened to you all. That same deadly level of calm that makes you want to bolt again. 

“She,” you stare into the fire until your eyes burn. You don’t know if it’s from the light or the smoke but the pain focuses you. “She was shaking on the floor. There was blood everywhere and she could barely breathe. They had gassed us with something. None of us could use our powers, it’s the only reason they got a one-up on us.”

You can feel yourself slipping back into that moment. You feel the warmth of the blood on your skin. It seeps into your suit and makes the material cling to you. Your gut is split open and the only thing holding your intestines in is your hands. 

Jean is in front of you. Her hands are twitching by her sides. There’s blood pouring out of her lips, dribbling down her tongue and cheeks. Every breath is a rattle so deep you feel it in your bones. 

Each inhale sounds like someone dragging glass through the membrane of her lungs. Her chest rises and sinks shallowly as she gasps for air. She’s practically convulsing, eyes twitching every which way.

The gas has faded from the halls. The people have left, satisfied with the carnage. You’re alone, surrounded only by the blood and bodies of your friends. None of the others are moving. Some of them are so mangled you can’t even tell who they are anymore. 

Jean’s eyes lock onto yours. The only anchor she has. And you can see it, the frantic, wounded animal gaze on her face. She knows she’s dying. She knows there’s nothing she can do about it. 

You can only stand by and watch as your friend dies. You could be her comfort. You could be the last face she sees before she dies, distracting her from the sight of her dead fiancee behind her. 

But what do you do?

You hold your guts in your stomach and you run. You can’t look at her. You can’t look at any of them. You can hear her croaking behind you. And even when you’re out of the mansion, when you’re in a hospital somewhere getting repaired and Logan’s on a rampage, you still hear her. 

You feel something heavy on your arm and it’s like you're being forcibly dragged out of a trance. Logan’s looking at you with something you’ve never seen before. But it’s something you’ve always desperately craved. 

It’s like he’s seeing you, really seeing you. For the first time in a long time, you feel that ache of guilt ease away ever so slightly. It doesn’t disappear, but you’re sharing the burden with someone else and it’s a relief you’ve desperately craved. 

“You’re not a bad person for leaving, kid.” He swallows roughly and you place your hand over his. He doesn’t look completely comfortable with the touch, slightly flinching away from it, but he doesn’t move. “If you hadn’t, you would be dead.”

You squeeze his hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I never blamed you for what happened.” emotion is so thick on your tongue and in your throat that the words come out a whisper. “Their deaths weren’t your fault, and what happened after wasn’t.”

He clenches his eyes shut and jerks his hand out of your grip. You sigh, knowing you’ve lost him. “I slaughtered them.”

You scoff, “They slaughtered us!” You nearly shout, anger bubbling hot in your gut. When you heard about him killing those who had hunted down your friends, you’d celebrated. And when you heard the way the public was crucifying him, you realized that no matter what you did they would never love you. 

You would always be nothing more than a mutant to them. 

“And the people who didn’t hurt them? The innocents I killed?” 

You don’t have anything to say to that. You just stand up, placing a hand on his shoulder as you pass by him. “I never blamed you, Logan.”

You don’t see Logan again after that. At least, not while you’re in the void. What was left of your little resistance was sucked up into the purple cloud of death. Only you and Laura are left with the carnage. 

Logan and Wade have disappeared to who knows where. It stings, to be on your own again. Sure, you have Laura, but she’ll never understand the pain of what happened to your universe. 

As much as it hurt, at least with Logan, you had someone to share the pain with. You could share your burden with him. You feel lonely and cold. Like there’s a part of you missing. You finally figure out what that ache is when the TVA comes to collect you and you see him again. 

He’s standing behind Wade as he enthusiastically tells you and Larua all about his world. But you can’t take your eyes off Logan, or the tentative smile on his face. Whatever had happened during that fight with Cassandra Nova had changed him, for the better. 

You smile back at him and it feels like taking a breath of fresh air after years. 

Apparently, whoever this world’s Flux had been, she was fucking insanely rich. And dead, which sucked for her but was great for you and Logan. 

It’s not hard for you to fake some government identities and explain that you’d been mistakenly marked as dead. It’s apparently pretty common in this universe. Superheroes are blipped out of existence all the time. You couldn’t get all of her assets as some had been liquidated, but you did get her giant ass house. 

You let Logan and Laura stay with you until they decide where they want to go. It’s better than living with Wade and his coke-fiend roommate. Laura finds her groove pretty quickly, it is her world after all. But you and Logan struggle to figure out what to do with yourselves. 

Neither of you has an interest in being X-Men again, and it seems like they’re not incredibly present in this world either. You also hadn’t been the best of friends, even before everything went wrong, back home. 

You’re not strangers, you’re not friends, you’re that awkward place in between. Each day is another opportunity to get to know each other. The progress might be slow, but you know that you’re getting closer to something real. 

It’s why you don’t feel any qualms about running into his room when you hear him shouting. You burst into his room and the door slamming against the wall isn’t even enough to wake him up. 

He’s writhing around in the bed, sheets twisted around his waist while sweat beads down his forehead. The noises he’s making remind you of a wounded animal. There’s something heartbreaking about this. 

He doesn’t get peace even when he’s sleeping. It makes you hurt for him. You want to smooth over the aches and pains he carries and burden yourself with them. 

The thought snaps you out of your reverie and you’re shocked by the revelation. You’d been growing closer to him, but you hadn’t thought you were growing this close. You feel so strongly for him, but you’re not ready to put a name on what it is that you feel for him. You just know that right now you want to make him feel better. 

You approach the bed cautiously, taking a seat beside him. The bed ripples and jolts underneath you as he tosses and turns. You place a gentle hand on his arm and shake, “Logan,” you whisper. You don’t want to startle him too bad. 

But he’s not responding to anything. It doesn’t matter how much you shake him or call out his name. Finally, you can’t handle it anymore. You get on your knees, sitting over him and bringing your palm down across his face as hard as you can. 

In a second he’s shooting up. You don’t even notice his hand until you see the way his vision clears. The visceral panic fades and something is aching in your gut. “Oh god, no no no,” he says the word so many times it stops sounding real. 

You look down and see the blood dribbling down his palm, the claws buried in your stomach. It’s almost funny, how perfectly aligned they are with the scar that already lived there. The reminder of your friend’s death being erased and reformed by Logan’s hand. 

He pulls his wrist back and you quickly snatch it up. “Don’t!” You shout, jaw clenching against the pain. “Don’t pull them out, I’ll just bleed out.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” You know he’s worried, that’s why he snaps at you. But it doesn’t help the way you feel yourself fighting back tears.

He sees them drip down your cheeks and his face drops. His other hand, the one not in you, comes up and cradles your cheek. “What do I do?” He whispers, and he sounds more desperate than you do. 

You know he doesn’t want another death on his hands. But there’s something beyond that. He doesn’t want to be the reason you stop breathing. There’s a startling clarity when you’re slowly dying. 

He cares about you. Just as deeply as you do for him. You can’t make him go through this pain again. Can’t let him suffer alone, not when he’s made so much progress. “Slowly,” you tell him, guiding his claws out inch by inch. 

It’s hard not to black out. You’d barely felt it when he’d gotten you the first time. You think it’s because of how fast and sudden it was. But this, having them oh so slowly slicing through your insides is the worst form of torture. 

But you don’t heal like him. You have to close your eyes, focus on the pain, and forcibly reknit your skin back together. It’s a clever manipulation of your powers, but it’s a slow one. You could never take serious damage on the field because you wouldn’t be fast enough to repair yourself. 

This is easy to repair. But that doesn’t make it hurt less. It feels like an hour before he can safely draw them the rest of the way out. The second he does, you’re sinking into his arms with a pained sob. 

He clutches you so tightly to his chest you worry your back might snap. He keeps muttering apologies into your hair, hands desperately grasping at every inch of you he can hold. You’re too tired to say anything. 

You realized you should have. You should have told him you don’t blame him. You were the one who snuck into his room. You should have been smarter. But it doesn’t matter how many times you tell Logan not to blame himself, he always will. And you were too tired to try anyway. 

You only realize what’s happening two days after the incident. You figured he might need some space to process what happened. And honestly, you did too. It was awful and incredibly draining. You’ve felt fatigued ever since. 

But when you try and approach him and he just brushes past you like you weren’t even there, you know something is wrong. You watch his retreating back with a disturbed glare. You connect the dots quickly, already knowing what he’s doing. 

He doesn’t want to be responsible for hurting another person he loves. He can’t handle a loss like that again, even if it’s not by his hands. He wants to make sure you don’t want him, that you don’t care for him. Like that might ease the pain and guilt. 

But it wouldn’t. It would just make him feel worse. It would make you feel worse. 

You don’t waste a second, following him up the stairs and barging into his room before he can slam the door shut. It bounces off the wall and he lets out a deeply irritated sigh. He doesn’t turn to look at you, just walks over to his nightstand and rummages around through the doors.

You know he’s not looking for anything. He’s just trying to ignore you long enough for you to give up. It’s not going to happen, he should know better. 

You take a step further into the room and the smell of chemicals slams into you. Your nose wrinkles in disgust. It smells like he pumped Lysol into the vents. Your eyes dart to the bed and you sigh. 

Your blood, you’d completely forgotten. He must have been cleaning it up the morning after. You can’t blame him for wanting to get rid of the remainder. But this seems excessive. 

“Strong nose,” he mutters. You hadn’t realized you’d spoken aloud and you glanced over at him. “I can still smell it, even after cleaning.” He takes a seat on the bed and you hate the way his shoulders are slumped. 

He’d seemed so much more comfortable with himself lately. It’s like one accident has undone all his progress. “Logan,” you start, taking a step towards him. He holds his hand up, still not looking at you. 

It’s driving you insane. You wish he would just meet your eyes. You feel like you could change his mind if he would just see you. Maybe that’s why he won’t. He won’t let himself be happy. 

“Look, that night just made me realize what a huge fucking mistake this was.” He gets up and slides something out from under the bed. It takes a moment for you to register what it is. A duffel bag, packed with all his essentials and what little clothes he owns. 

He’s going to leave.

You act without thinking. Pure panic making your powers surge out. Logan grunts and the bag falls out of his hand. “Quit it,” he snipes, bending over to pick it up. But he can’t because it’s so heavy it’s making the wooden floor splinter and crack under its weight. 

“You don’t get to just leave when things get hard, Logan.”

He stands up, hands propped on his sides. There’s a challenge in his eyes that makes you nervous. “Fuck this,” he scoffs and brushes past you. 

It’s beyond manipulative to use your powers against him. But sometimes, someone is such a fucking idiot, they need a little outside help. You slam the door closed and the handle disappears, locking you both in his room. 

He turns towards you with a fierce glare on his face. “Open the goddamn door before I break it down.”

“You can try,” you taunt, a nasty tone to your voice. You’re sick of this. You’re sick of running from what you want. You’ve been miserable and alone for years. You want to be happy. For the first time in forever, you want something. 

And you want Logan to be happy with you. You can’t force him to feel the way you do. But you can stop him from actively preventing this. “Stop acting like a goddamn child and just talk to me!” You shout at him. 

There’s a disbelieving look on your face. You don’t understand why he won’t let this happen. Why does he have to fight so hard against any semblance of happiness in his life?

“I’m going to hurt you. That is all I do. I hurt the people I love and I cannot hurt you too.” Your eyes widen in shock at his outburst. Beyond anger, there was so much fear in his voice it was almost enough to make you miss what he’d said. 

“You love me?” You can see the realization dawn on him. The fact that he let slip why he’s so hesitant to be around you. You know he wants to leave, his eyes are darting around the room for an escape route, but you’ve blocked them all. You can’t let this go, not now. 

“Logan,” you snap, demanding an answer from him. 

“Fuck you,” he mutters, something vicious on his face. 

He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to lash out and say something cruel so that this doesn’t happen. You know him because you’ve been him. He will take every possible route to get out of this if it means he doesn’t have to face his feelings. 

You roll your eyes and take a step forward. You jerk him towards you and throw yourself on him before he can say something stupid. The kiss is brief, just enough to snap him out of this ridiculous headspace he’s in. 

When you pull back he looks dazed, but he’s relaxed in your hold, sinking towards you. You grin up at him, “I love you too, dumbass.” You lean up to kiss him again but you dart back at the last second, a mean glare on your face. “Pull some shit like this again and I’m going to melt your dick off.” 

You kiss him before he can respond, but you feel the smile against your lips. You can taste the defeat on his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and tugs you into his chest. He’s not going to push you away and you’re not going to let him. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl @allllium  ♡ 

[ozzgin]

Girl I love Daitou but I'm ngl I need more of Yazuya😭 if you can, can you write headcanons about him please? I'd appreciate it thank you <3

Yandere!Yakuza x Reader Headcanons

Ultimate dating guide and palate cleanser featuring the gangster boys (Kazuya and Daitou). For those that have been left hanging for proper romance.

Content: gender neutral reader, mildly NSFW

Tags: @swagbucksjester @lucienbarkbark @moonieper @nu-vino @vee-love @tamaki-simp @pinkazelma

[Yakuza Masterlist]

Kazuya

Kazuya was raised in a brothel, surrounded by women, so he is much more knowledgeable than the average man when it comes to feminine matters. Similar to someone who grew up having sisters, you can talk to him about anything and everything and not only will he be empathetic towards your problems, but he might offer tips and tricks you didn’t even know about. Not too shocking when he’s already heard multiple variations of whatever is bothering you.

The downside to his upbringing is that intercourse has always felt terribly transactional to him. He has a hard time associating it with intimate relationships. He will flirt a lot with you, but despite all the sexual innuendos, he won’t actually do anything until later in the relationship. He struggles with the irrational worry that sex will somehow taint the quality of your bond, making it feel cheap. Dating you has helped him realize that such things can be done out of love as well.

He is extremely affectionate and well mannered when dealing with you. Which may sometimes cause you to forget there’s a reason him and Daitou are good friends. While he isn’t as ill-tempered as his younger self, it doesn’t take much to anger him still. It’s a rare occurrence for you to witness it, but when he has it out for someone, he nearly matches Daitou in ruthlessness. He's very prideful and protective and will not hesitate to crush whoever challenges him or messes with you.

If you have a group of (girl)friends, you can confidently bring him with you with the only risk being that he’ll steal your spotlight. He can charismatically slide his way into any kind of conversation and you can hardly believe that this is the same man cracking gross jokes over his latest murder to his fellow criminal buddies. You might consider him a social chameleon, having no trouble adapting to any environment.

Smokes like a chimney and you have to slap the cigarette out of his hand sometimes because he’ll just light one up anywhere (including your bedroom).

Now this one is for the ones that are into it: God forbid you accidentally call him Daddy because he’ll ride that high until the end of time. He loves the idea and will tease about it with every opportunity. “Terrible weather today. Should Daddy drive you to work instead?”, or “Is that any way to talk to Daddy?” for when you’re out in public.

Daitou

One neat detail about being with Daitou is that you get to see a lot of things you took for granted in a new light. Whatever you assumed was a common experience for everyone, like having a picnic or going to the amusement park, is utterly foreign to him. He was raised by the Yakuza and barely interacted with anyone before meeting Kazuya; civilian past times were never presented to him. So you get to witness his shocked and delighted expression as he tries all these things with you.

Thankfully you don’t have to worry about teaching him the…intimate aspects of a relationship. Kazuya has that covered. And Daitou seems to be a rather fast learner, because he’s incredibly gentle and careful with you. Part of it is due to his own fear of messing it up. He’s only ever been good at breaking and killing people. Despite that, he loves you so much. He has to be the best boyfriend for your sake. Surely these hands of his can do more than just damage.

He might actually be a little too eager to learn the ropes. More than once you’ve walked in on him reading a graphic manga and nearly choked, mumbling an apology for interrupting his…activity. He’ll look at you with a confused expression, completely unbothered and wondering why you’re so embarrassed. He was flipping through the pages for ideas, given he’s never had any kind of experience himself. Ah. That explains the random kinky gestures he’s started doing without shame or doubt. You’ll have to do some tweaking in the near future.

This may come as a surprise, but Daitou is exceptionally good at household chores like cleaning and cooking. Registering with the Yakuza involves a mandatory apprenticeship of several years where you do menial tasks for your higher ups. Additionally, the time he served in jail has left him with a lot of discipline and organization. Somewhere between adorable and comical is how you’d describe the sight of him kneeling on the floor and carefully folding the kitchen towels while waiting for the stew to simmer.

Daitou isn’t exactly what you’d traditionally call jealous. His only frame of reference is Boss, thus he will treat you with the same kind of loyalty and dedication. You wouldn’t expect a mere nobody to walk up to the Head of the Family, so anyone approaching you will, similarly, be violently kept away until their intentions are clear. You are his most prized possession, after all. He’d do anything for you.

[islandofsages]

hey, I could ask the royal boys (Leona, Kalim and Malleus) with the male reader who is already the king of his country, like the boys thought he was a prince like them, but then on any given day he lets out a complaint how difficult it is to govern the kingdom and study for exams at the same time, sometimes he just wanted to be the prince and not the king.

characters: leona, kalim and malleus x king!male reader

tags: platonic, canon compliant, fluff, imagines + scenario format

warnings: a little bit of negativity towards reader in leona's part, a bit of swearing in kalim's

author's notes: loving all the male reader requests rn. i think i strayed a bit from the prompt but i hope you like it anyway <3

Leona Kingscholar

Though being a prince himself, he’s not as “diplomatic” with the other princes at that school - except for you probably. No don’t ask him what happened, he’s ready to accept it as it is

At least because of your (assumed) status, he finds it easier to communicate with you; at least you’re not one of the top five most powerful mages in the world or the most optimistic person in Twisted Wonderland

Hangouts with him still consist more of silent chilling though; both of you just need to get away from it all for a while

He doesn’t question the days that you’re gone - sometimes people just end up needing you to do this and that. He tries not to dwell on it too much, lest his inferiority complex gets the best of him

Until one day, you come back after one day of absence, which is normal enough until-

“*sigh* I swear, being king is less appealing as my retainers make it sound, especially since I also have to go to school all the while.”

I’m sorry, being what now?

He knew you were royalty, that much he got from everyone whispering about you back when you enrolled and since you made little mention of your background, he just assumed you were a prince like him

You let out a tired chuckle then and comment on how you forgot that you never told him you’re an actual king of a nation

He has mixed feelings over this - he thought he finally met someone a little bit like him, yet you’re just another one of them and you never bothered telling him who you are?

But don’t worry, he gets over his feelings of betrayal after a while; it’s not like the reveal changed who you are as a person. You’re still the same guy who he’s been hanging out with and he knows his brain is trying to defend itself

You apologize for not telling him sooner and despite your complaints, you try not to sound ungrateful, especially considering his issues

At some point, even Leona himself starts to forget about that fact

It doesn’t matter if you carry a whole nation on your shoulders because - and he will never say this out loud - he knows you’re capable and if you start to crumble, he’ll be there for you.

Kalim Al-Asim

Though he’s not one to really care about someone’s social status, he’s happy to have more royal friends

Doesn’t stop him from spoiling you. Haven’t you heard? Any friends of Kalim are also friends of his many, many fortunes

He invites you over to Scarabia for parties every so often and either you are surrounded by people or everyone leaves you alone out of intimidation

But hey, if the latter happens, Kalim is more than happy to help you make some friends (unless you’re uncomfortable with it of course but he’ll still try to help)

One time, at one of his many parties, you two were simply laughing over something and it reminded you of something-

“That makes me think of the time this creature took a shit on my throne back at home - it took a few days for the stench to fade!”

Oh, of course, your throne! Everyone totally has a literal throne back home! Until Kalim realizes that is, in fact, untrue

As if he wasn’t already excited at the prospect of a new friend, he gets more excited at the fact that you have your own throne and is, he concludes, a monarch

You brush him off, light pink decorating your cheeks, saying that it’s not really that special - and you mean it

You tell him of the experience and you couldn’t help slip in a few complaints; it isn’t easy to juggle both school and royal responsibilities at the same time

He only listens in and tries his best to understand; he is no king, and though he is a housewarden and a prince, your struggles differ from his by a long mile

From that day on, he makes sure to check in on you and if you’re feeling less than, he’ll drop everything and do anything to relieve you of your stress

When he drops by your nation and your palace, he brings in a whole parade. It’s so Kalim that you can only laugh

You knew that story about a creature shitting on your throne was gonna be a good story at parties.

Malleus Draconia

Your presence is an absolute delight to him; it didn’t occur to him to ask what kind of royalty you are but it didn’t matter either way

He finds himself more comfortable talking about his heritage around you, knowing that you can somewhat relate to being of nobility

If you’re not part of his club, sometimes you tag along on his gargoyle crusades for the hell of it - seeing him so passionate about something brings a smile to your face

On one of your many escapades, he points out a gargoyle and begins to ramble about its features

Hearing it suddenly makes you remember-

“Ah gosh, I just remembered I should be back home right now, some of my people will be coming over to construct some gargoyles around my castle.”

He doesn’t question it at first but then the phrase “my people” registered in his mind. Wait, what do you mean your people?

You start to apologize for not telling him and also the fact that you have to leave that very moment

After you came back after the whole ordeal, you sit him down somewhere and tell him about your position

As mentioned, it doesn’t matter to him what responsibilities you have, as long as you can be his friend

You breathe out a sigh of relief and invite him to continue where you two left off last time

Nothing changes much between you two, except for the fact that you share more of your kingly experiences

He definitely drops by your place at least once - he could never miss out a chance on seeing some new gargoyles

And as he looks on at those beautiful waterspouts, you can’t help but be grateful that they can serve as a source of happiness for someone too.

[hollisiguess]

im bored so y’all are getting some hazbin hcs

Alastor is aroace and agender but he does not know it he has no clue what ANY of those words mean

Rosie actually knows that Alastor is all of those but to fuck with him she doesn’t tell him however she will from time to time call him one of those (for example when she says she knows Alastor is an ace in the hole)

Alastor and Rosie are in a qpr!

Velvette and Vox are besties they will gossip about everyone and everything

Velvette is a non-binary lesbian who uses she/her

EVERYONE in hell assume that the vees are a polycule and for the chaos they never correct anyone

Velvette barely tolerates Valentino and would like to beat the shit out of him at any given time

Ok I have to restrain myself with Velvette so last one even though Vox has beef with Alastor to everyone’s shock she hangs out with him every once and a while over some tea

Lute is aroace but she and Adam are « dating » bc people kept asking Lute out would never take no for an answer and it was making her uncomfortable

Despite everything Adam does care for Lute and is a good friend towards her hence why he agreed to the fake dating plan

Vaggie before getting her wings back would get HORRIBLE phantom pain from them and whenever Charlie would ask what was up she would always dodge the questions and Charlie wanting to respect her gfs boundaries wouldn’t push to much

Vaggies love language is acts of service and Charlie’s is physical touch

Charlie ADORES Vaggies wings she thinks they make her gf even more gorgeous then she already is

Vaggie is actually insecure of her wings as they remind her of a past she’s rather forget but Charlie fawning over them does make her like her wings a bit more

If Charlie is cold Vaggie will use her wings to make her warmer

After the battle against the exorcist Vaggie went back to thank Carmilla for her help and the two got to talking and ended bonding now they meet weekly at Carmillas to practice battle together (the both enjoy it greatly) and sometimes it leads to Vaggie staying for dinner

Carmilla Carmine is essentially Vaggies mom/mentor

Vaggie bonded with Carmillas daughters and they see eachother as sisters

Charlie will sometimes head over to cannibal town to give Rosie a visit and she now calls Rosie Auntie all the time

Vaggie brought Charlie to meet Carmilla and Charlie brought Vaggie to meet Rosie (both were super nervous to meet each others respective mom/aunt figure worried they wouldn’t approve)

Husk and Cherri used to hate eachother but after Angel forced them to hang out they grew to like eachother in a I hate u and hope u die/affectionate type of way

Angel does Cherris hair and I will not elaborate

Angel can’t cook for shit and almost set the hotel on fire many times (he’s now banned from the kitchen)

Vaggie however is a great chef!

Husk taught all the members of the hotel who didn’t already know how to play poker, poker

The hotel guests now have game night which is usually the entire cast struggling while Alastor, Husk and Vaggie sweep and have a rivalry between themselves the others are trying tho!

Alastor also taught the residents chess

Nifty eats the pieces

Im not elaborating on that last one

Vaggie and Angel actually like one another (PLATONICALLY) even considering one another one of their closest friends but neither would ever admit it out loud

Alright now that that's said Angel and Vaggie have mini cooking lessons in secret (WITHOUT ANY FIRE for safety reasons ofc) so Angel can make food for his friends

Lucifer and Vaggie actually bonded a lot especially given both are fallen angels

When Lucifer found out why Vaggie was cast out and how Vaggie had to physically restrain him from (somehow don’t question how he'd even be able to get to heaven to do it) beating the shit out of Lute

Shickingly Lucifer, nifty and Husk are friends and hang out

in fact Lucifer knew Husk before the hotel and had already grown fond of him

Sir Pentious and Charlie are besties

Charlie was the first person who Sir Pentious actually told he liked Cherri (the others still knew but like he actually told Charlie)

Sir Pentious makes Alastor babysit the egg bois after the outing he had with them a while back

Sir Pentious does like Emily but she kinda makes him sad as she reminds him so much of Charlie and he cant see her anymore given she's currently in hell

Razzle was always super attached to Charlie but Dazzle wierdly enough got super attached to Vaggie making her even angrier with Lute when she killed him

Imma end the hcs here cause this is already a shit tone lol

[hiraethwa]

one summer day

10 epiphany. where ushijima has a sudden realization

<< 09 disconnect. | >> 11 epiphany.

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader a/n: we only go up from here, my loves - ave word count: 3.7k 💀 warnings: violence, threats, vile, misogynistic comments (by a rando), cursing tags: @lemurzsquad @daisy-room @integers -- (inbox me if you want to be added to the tag list)

april, third year

ushijima wakatoshi is by no means a people person. he is a highly motivated individual, mind always focused on the task at hand. he does not mind people interacting with him, although he can survive without it. 

he enjoys playing volleyball and listening to his teammates, occasionally adding to the conversation, but he has never been a particularly talkative person like tendo. it’s not that he dislikes human interaction, he just finds that sometimes, some things are better left unspoken, or perhaps unnecessary altogether. 

he never goes out of his way to befriend someone – he was already busy with volleyball as it is, and to add to it, staying on top of his school’s demanding curriculum. people has commented on his stoicism and general unapproachability behind his back, not that he cares enough about it. so naturally, he did not have a lot of friends to begin with. 

wakatoshi thinks that he is satisfied with his way of life and intends on keeping it simple with just school and volleyball, and none of the drama that he’s heard going around his year all the time. or rather, he intended to. 

and so, he finds himself confused, and irritated as well, when this guy from his year, apparently the captain of the basketball or baseball or whatever, he could care less, tries to start some kind of shit with him. 

ushijima was on his way to lunch with tendo when this idiot came and started badmouthing him and the volleyball team, calling him a useless piece of shit and some other names that he stopped listening to. he wondered what the point of this confrontation is when he doesn’t even know who this person is. 

with a blank stare and a twitching eyebrow, ushijima cuts him off, “i’m sorry, who are you again?” 

it only made him angrier and humiliated, with the crowd that is starting to form around the commotion. “my name is yamasaki takeo.”

“i don’t recall asking for your opinion, yamasaki-san,” ushijima retorts irritably, eliciting a gasp from tendo who is next to him. 

yamasaki gapes at him, as the whispers from the students around them grow audibly. 

that ought to be the end of it, ushijima thinks, as he makes to leave the scene that yamasaki caused. he has better things to worry about, like the fact that you are still not on speaking terms with him, rather than this pointless confrontation that is clearly wasting his time.

“that’s right, because you’re too busy trying to get into miyamura’s pants than focusing on volleyball, aren’t you?” 

tendo reckons that the idiot is relentless in picking a fight with him, and apparently has a death wish. for he had the balls to bring your name up when it is currently occupying the top spot in ushijima’s list of touchy subjects, which is very, very short. in fact, it only has one entry right now.

ushijima clenches his fists. now he is truly irritated, and his short patience is reaching its end. 

yamasaki, noticing that he is finally getting a reaction out of the indifferent volleyball captain, delightedly goes on to drag your name through the mud. 

“is it really that difficult to get your little girlfriend to sleep with you, captain, if you are so high and mighty? or is it just you that she is not interested in?” he mocks ushijima, a shit eating grin on his face now that he has ushijima’s full attention, discovering his weakness. “maybe she’s actually sleeping around with your friends. in fact, i wouldn’t be so surprised if she is, considering how close she is to semi eita as of late.”

if looks could kill, yamasaki would be long dead by now. his only saving grace being the thin fraying thread of patience that ushijima is holding on to. a very, very thin thread. 

“if you know what’s good for you, keep her name out of your filthy mouth.” ushijima grits his teeth. 

ushijima hates that he has you dragged into this spectacle. you’re not his girlfriend, much less his friend at this very moment. he hates that too, that you are so far away from his reach. he dislikes the hole your absence left in his meticulous schedule, and he misses the warmth your presence brings him. 

for your sake, he has been keeping his temper in check. convincing himself that getting into a brawl with yamasaki would only serve to fan the flames of the situation when word spreads around school, and the one who would suffer the most would be you. 

but it appears that yamasaki is asking, practically begging for it, as he continues his goading. “maybe i need to get a taste of her, considering how well she has you wrapped around her finger.”

the thread explodes. 

red. red is all ushijima could see as someone grabs a hold of yamasaki’s collar and throws a fist into his cocky face. he is so full of shit. a killing calm descends on ushijima as he watches the person pull his arm back and send another punch to yamasaki. again. and again. 

he vaguely registers his friend shouting his name and pulling on his arm with a few of other students. semi and ohira, he realizes. puzzled, he looks down to see his hand gripping tightly onto the front of yamasaki’s uniform, and his left hand is covered in blood. 

oh. oh. that was him who punched the asshole.

ushijima releases his hold on yamasaki, breathing heavily as the gravity of the situation settles in. it isn’t some inconsequent drama to circulate around school anymore. 

yamasaki struggles to stand, coughing out blood. his nose sits crookedly on his face, most possibly broken. but he has the nerve to smirk, as much as he could, at ushijima. “not so strong now, are you?”

“says the one with a sorry state for a face,” semi retorts, tense from the whole situation.

he merely wipes at his bloodied face, waving semi off. “i am not the one you need to worry about. i am also not the one who is risking his spot on the under 19 team for the youth world championship with a scandal.”

ushijima recoils, blood running cold. was that his goal all along? 

“maybe, i will forgive your actions, if you get on your knees and beg,” yamasaki pauses, a dark glint in his eyes, “and give y/n to me.”

his words have ushijima struggling to break free from his teammates, caution thrown to the winds, ready to beat him to a pulp. 

“let go of me!” ushijima growls. fuck the consequences, there is no way in hell he will let this asshole lay a finger on you.

he does not notice the crowd parting as the students recognize you and allow you space to get to the front of the commotion. the frown on your face from witnessing the latter half of the events unfolding after you yielded to chika’s curiosity of the commotion that sent students running in the hallways and getting their friends to join them. the sigh that escapes your lips from being the center of the drama. 

“is that all it really takes?” your voice stops him in his attempts to break free, his head snapping towards you in shock.

ushijima has not felt fear in years, certainly not on the volleyball court, not since his parents had a messy divorce, but your words send his heart dropping to the floor. “y/n–”

“stay out of it.” you breathe sharply at him, needing your wits about you if you were to get him out of this situation unscathed. turned away from yamasaki, you let out a trembling breath and steel your nerves. 

you’ve worn a mask in your own home for years, this is nothing, you remind yourself. sure, the whispers would spread, but for him, you would wreck yourself. to hell with this asshole if he dares to try to bring ushijima down. ironic, considering you distanced yourself to save your own heart. when it is all said and done, it still belongs to him.  

“unfortunately, i am not an object that ushijima can simply give away, yamasaki-san, but am i worth the lengths you went to?” 

you observe as his eyes dart behind you at ushijima. so that’s how it is. you are not what he wants. what he wants is to get to ushijima, for reasons you can surmise from the gossip that had been floating around the last week. 

if you play your cards right, you could twist his arm behind his back, figuratively speaking. he would have no choice but to back down, you hope. if not… you don’t want to even think about it. this has to be enough.

“why don’t i propose you a better trade?” you bat your lashes at the scum in front of you, playing the role of the ever helpless girl using her body to get away with things. praying to the gods above that he will take the bait. just come a little closer and i will show you my teeth, bastard.

surely, you can’t be thinking of actually going out with yamasaki, ushijima tries to convince himself as he watches you smile at the asshole coyly. you are smarter than that, and he is not worth your sacrifice. 

or is he? he averts his eyes as you lean in towards yamasaki. shoves the prickling sense of unfamiliar discomfort down. shushes the pealing bells in his mind. the urge to pummel his face to nothing. 

he tries to put his mind elsewhere, but a sense of inevitability creeps in. dread, he realizes, crawls up his spine and makes its home there.

he wants to shout at you. something. anything. anything but this. he doesn’t need to be in the youth 19 team. he would rather risk it all. he doesn’t need anything, doesn’t want anything but you by his side. and the thought of it terrifies him.

“wakatoshi-kun,” tendo nudges him and grabs his attention away from his thoughts. he follows tendo’s gaze towards you and takashima, whose cocky smirk was completely wiped off his bloodied and bruised face and replaced by a paleness that looked like fear. “that’s your girl.”

“i’m so glad we were able to come to an understanding, takashima-san. i would hate for such a nasty argument to get even more out of hand, don’t you agree? now that we are on the same page, i’m sure this won’t happen again. right, takashima-san?” ushijima shudders at the underlying hostility in your fake cheery voice that is directed towards takashima. he never wants to be on the receiving end of it, he thinks. 

you lay a hand on his arm, an eerily innocent smile on your face. and takashima winces, nodding quickly and too eagerly compared to his earlier behavior. 

“i guess we will see you around?” ushijima catches on to the hidden demand under your nice words. you better stay away from us. “oh, do you need a hand to the nurse’s office?”

what exactly did he miss? but he is too awestruck by the way you turned the situation around that he forgot to correct tendo’s earlier statement. 

he tunes out takashima’s stuttering response as you turn around, a frown finding its way onto your beautiful features as your cold eyes land on him. barely registers tendo calling “show’s over” and gesturing at the crowd to disperse and mind their own business.

he hates the mask you are wearing, pushing everyone, and him, away as a defense mechanism. he hates that he is the reason you had to don it today to protect him from his own actions.   

ushijima finds himself reaching out to you to smooth out the furrow in your brows, only to be met by resistance. your slender fingers hook onto his wrist, halting his movement for a split second before dropping his hand like a hot potato. 

“people are watching,” you remind him. your eyes catch on his left hand, where the skin on his knuckles was split, hesitating on your next words. “you should get that treated.”

he frowns, already missing the feeling of your skin on his. why would he care that people are watching?

the four of them end up walking to the nurse’s office with ohira dismissing himself from the group for some errand he had to run for his class. tendo being tendo, starts pestering you about what you did and how you did it despite your clipped answers. 

ushijima finds himself staring at the back of your head, unsure if you are just a figment of his imagination from how long he went without interacting with you. next to him, semi nods his head at you, “she doesn’t hate you, you know.”

he stays quiet. if that’s true, then why are you so intent on avoiding him?

“you are both impossible,” semi huffs in disbelief. 

finding the nurse’s office empty, semi lets your little group into the dark room. tendo beelines for the cabinet, rummaging for supplies. you didn’t have the energy to tell them that they should probably wait for the nurse to come back.

you keep to the door, fidgeting as if you could not decide to stay or go. “see you guys” you blurt, feet moving quickly out the door.

“y/n–” ushijima panics. is this it? is this all he has left of you?

“i’ll go talk to her.” semi promises, running after you, leaving ushijima in tendo’s hands.

they sit in silence as tendo cleans up ushjima’s bloodied knuckles, the latter unphased by the sting of disinfectant on raw skin with his entire focus on the doorway. wishing. 

sure enough, semi returns with an uneasy y/n in tow, looking like you would rather be anywhere but there. 

he makes you sit on the bed across from ushijima, an indecipherable look in his eyes. “stay, you two need to talk. tendo and i will be right outside.” translation: don’t think about leaving until you talk to him. to which you return an unamused look, crossing your arms in a defensive manner.

you wait until the door clicks closed behind them before stealing a glance at ushijima. his stare displaces you, as if there is nothing more important than you. unbelievable, you think. 

you open your mouth to say something – something mean and hurtful so that he would stop looking at you like he cared, but decide against it, knowing full well your anger, the serpent that rarely rears its head is nasty when it does. 

“why are you avoiding me?” he breaks the silence. the first words you’ve heard from him in a long while, not counting the short exchange earlier and during orchestra practice. you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss his voice. that it didn’t calm the wary hissing wild animal in you on some subconscious level.

“why do you care, ushijima?” the name still leaves a bitter taste on your tongue even though you have tried to get over it. you don’t actually love him, right? it’s just a schoolgirl infatuation. or at least, that is what you keep telling yourself, hoping that it will be true when you repeat it enough times. 

“you are my friend, y/n.” his eyes snap to yours, begging you to understand. 

the feeling of drowning creeps in, bringing you back to the first sleepless nights after you cut him off. how pathetic you were running after someone who did not even treat you as their friend. how worthless. how you went from wishing that he saw you as you are to wishing that he never walked into your life.

“no, if i am your friend, then why didn’t you tell me about the nationals? fuck, i had to find out from semi, and it was only because they needed me to stop you from hurting yourself. what the fuck am i to you, ushijima wakatoshi?” you snap at him. 

he starts to say something, but you are not done, not yet. 

“why bother? why save me from myself, tell me you’re my friend, when you certainly don’t act like it when it comes to yourself? do you think so little of me? or am i just some basket case to you?” your fists curl at your sides, angry tears threatening to escape your eyes, as you will them back. 

why did you start the fight? why? 

and then he is at your feet, kneeling and taking your hands into his, looking at you as if you are his salvation. “it was easy, caring for you. felt right, like second nature. you matter to me, but i–” he glances away for a second, almost too much, he thinks “–i don’t know how to let others do the same to me, even if it’s you, that didn’t come naturally. i’m sorry, y/n.” his knuckles are gentle against your skin, brushing away the tears that you didn’t realize started sliding down your cheeks.

the silence stretches, interrupted by your sniffles here and there. 

“talk to me.” he tucks the hair that is covering your face behind your ear. 

your voice is a pained quiet. “i was running away from you, afraid of what your answer could be. i was scared that you found me unworthy. i felt pathetic, yearning for your friendship if you didn’t feel the same way. but–” your throat tightens at your cowardice, realizing your own mistake.

“it could have been avoided if you just talked to me.” wakatoshi finishes your sentence for you.

“you’re a fucking hypocrite.” you retort, kicking his knee in pettiness. “don’t think you’re so easily forgiven.” and just like that he is forgiven. your heart once again safely tucked away in his hands, returned to its owner after weeks of being torn away bleeding and broken by yours. 

it’s unfair, really. the effortlessness it takes on his part to make you whole unknowingly. maybe you were born without a heart, given away to ushijima by fate. maybe he is meant to come into your life and give it back, to remind you that you are alive, and to live. 

you keep telling yourself that he is meant for more than you. which is the truth. but it is also because you are afraid of losing him forever.  

but he recognizes the way you deflect away from your own vulnerability. “make me beg for it, i’ll do anything to redeem myself.” you mean too much to me.

“anything?” you tap your chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “how about going to the tanabata festival in your kuromontsuki haori hakama?” 

you are trying to see how far he would go to satisfy your demands. usually people wear yukatas to summer festivals, the most casual traditional option, and the most comfortable one in the sweltering heat of summer. a kuromontsuki haori hakama is the highest rank of kimono for men and only worn for formal occasions like weddings and funerals. 

but you would kill to see him in one, and it doesn’t hurt to ask.

“that would be a little difficult… how about a haori hakama?” which is less formal than what you suggested, though enough that he will still stick out like a sore thumb in the crowd, but– “fine.” you wanted to see him in a full formal kimono. 

“i get the crispy ends of your katsu.” nod. “give me a piggyback ride home.” an eyebrow raise, but nod. “i want the only bottle of grape squash that you guys buy every single time.” nod. 

“no more keeping secrets from me.” 

“done.”

“i will have to think of more later, you’re currently on probation.” you narrow your eyes at him, gesturing with your hand, i’m watching you. he catches it deftly, getting all up in your space. 

your breath hitches as he comes eye to eye with you, only inches to spare. “i’m sorry. i’ll do better, i promise.” 

you hear his words, sure, but the thunderous beating of your heart is coming from every direction, deafening. in that moment, you forgot how to speak, tongue twisted in a way that cannot be undone. so you panic, feet kicking out instinctively. 

several things happen in quick succession. wakatoshi grunts, curling backwards in pain. the door bursts open as semi and tendo comes running in to defuse the situation. you sit there in shock. tendo starts cackling at the scene in front of him, tears shining in his eyes. 

“damn, one after another, y/n, you’re putting these boys down real hard.” he wipes his eyes with laughter.

“it was an accident!” 

“sure, sure, if you say so.” he slowly backs out of the room, having a distinctive feeling that you may want to land one on him too. 

“get back here, tendo satori! oi, where do you think you are going? you still need to dress toshi’s wounds.” you dash at him. 

“back to toshi now, are we? why don’t you do it yourself?” he snickers, running away.

semi shakes his head at the two of you, glancing at his captain who is still recovering from your kick in the nuts. he winces at the thought of it. “you good?”

ushijima looks towards where tendo now has an arm thrown over your shoulders, affectionately ruffling your hair, utterly unfazed by the way you are snapping at him. 

“i told you, i am not telling you! it defeats the purpose of what i said to that scum if i told you! get your dirty hands off of me.” you frown at the redhead, and then as if sensing his eyes on you, you point at ushijima. “you, don’t ever pick fights again even if i get dragged into it, it’s not worth it.” 

“but he picked a fight with ushijima-kun first.” 

“why, you brat. do you want to find out what dirty secrets i know about you?”

“wah, scary, y/n-chan. remind me to never get on your bad side.” 

you make a face at tendo, which ushijima finds adorable. his lips quirk in a smile at the scene unfolding in front of them, finally responding to semi’s earlier question. 

“yeah. yeah, i think so.”

“ushijima-kun, you’re down bad.”

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[neiptune]

the best of you belongs to me

c/w: 2k wc, strangers to lovers, so fucking self indulgent, nagi exceeds all expectations and is actually the perfect boyfriend <3

There are quite a few things that people who know Nagi Seishiro don’t believe he’s suited for.

College, because he’s in his mid twenties, already works as a professional football player and wouldn’t be interested in pursuing anything else.

Friendships, because every person in his life has found themself there by mere coincidence and he definitely doesn’t look like the kinda person who would care whether they’re there or not.

Living on his own, because god forbid someone as lazy and demotivated as himself should be looking after a whole apartment and his persona at the same time. Not that he needs to, with all that money, but he’s surely way too lethargic to even consider going through the hassle of hiring someone to do all those things for him.

Relationships, because Nagi Seishiro isn’t interested in other people, let alone women, and he would be incapable of committing to the effort needed to even think about dating someone.

Some people, none of his closest friends, believe his unnatural talent at succeeding is outrageous: the boy is just insanely lucky and gifted with a golden instinct that saved him from becoming a complete waste of space. Underneath all the admiration Nagi is flooded with each day there’s raw envy and bitterness because such is the human nature. But why should that even matter? Even if he knew, Nagi Seishiro wouldn’t bring himself to care. It’s just how he is.

Except he went beyond all that in no time, when you first had met him at Isagi’s birthday party.

Yoichi’s always been one of your closest friends, ever since high school, and although the years and your respective busy schedules have played their bitter part in keeping you separated, you knew as he knew you were always just one call away from each other. When you had casually texted him about being in town, you didn’t even expect him to be in Japan as he’s almost always traveling overseas. But he was and to make it up for the fact that he couldn’t join you for coffee because he had practice, he invited you to his apartment for the birthday party he was planning to have the following evening.

“Yeah, not sure that’s a good idea”

“It’s the perfect idea! If you’re worrying about bringing a gift, I don’t want one”

“I’m worrying about not knowing any of your friends!”

“You know me! C’mon, I really wanna see you”

And so you picked the only dress still neatly folded in your suitcase, packed just in case, and made your way downtown a few hours prior to the party to hopefully find a birthday present Yoichi would actually like. Eventually, you settled for a full grain customizable leather backpack: the shop owner was nice enough to add a laser engraving of your friend’s initials, which you thought was a nice, thoughtful touch.

You slipped a card inside the classy bag the gift was packaged in, one with the drawing of a soccer ball and “hope you have a ball on your special day!” written underneath it.

So that it doesn’t get mixed up with someone else’s when you travel! Happy birthday Yoi, love you x

Too fucking bad the weather decided to take a completely different turn as soon as you stepped out of the subway to make your way across the urban oasis that’s Shirokane, which resulted in you arriving at your friend’s apartment absolutely soaked. You patiently ignored the stares collected while waiting for the elevator in the luxurious entrance lobby, too busy making sure you were able to keep Yoichi’s gift dry.

When he opened the door with a warm smile splitting his face right away, arms were closed tightly around you in a second, warnings about being drenched swallowed by his usual affection. He did, however, take a small step back, surprised as his black button down was no longer nice and dry but still cut off your apologies by quite literally dragging you inside.

“Come in, you have to meet everyone!”

“Yoichi, wait—”

“What’s that in your hand? I told you I didn’t want anything!”

“Yoichi!”

All your protests and resistance proved to be absolutely useless as you found yourself thrown in the middle of a sparkly living room, filled with men scattered everywhere. The soft background music coming from your friend’s portable speakers wasn’t enough to tone down your entrance and, suddenly, most eyes were on you.

Isagi, ever the trusty man, stayed by your side when he introduced you to the whole goddamn room as one of his oldest best friends as you stood there embarrassed and anxious, with droplets dripping down from your clothes and hair to the parquet floors.

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you!” a short giggle followed an enthusiastic, thin voice and you turned to your right to find a friendly guy smiling fondly in a way that seemed so genuine you couldn’t hold back a smile in turn.

“Uh, hi, I’m happy to meet you t—” but his ochre eyes cut you off as they left your uncertain features to glare at Isagi, still standing proudly next to you with an arm around your shoulders “hey, this sweet girl’s gonna catch a cold, give her a change of clothes”

As realization finally dawned on him, your friend opened his mouth and then closed it a few times, taken aback.

“Oh, fuck, right! Wait, gimme that” he gently took the bag from your hands and placed it on his coffee table “but what could I lend you? I don’t have any clean clothes, just some tank tops and—”

Bachira’s impatient huff was interrupted by a gentle voice coming from behind him.

“I have an extra change of clothes” the white haired guy sitting on the couch bent down to zip the black bag left next to his feet open “me and Reo had practice today” he said while casually getting up with a slight groan to hand you neatly folded sweatpants and a black long sleeve shirt.

“Why do you have an extra change of clothes?” Bachira looked at him with a skeptical frown that was barely acknowledged as the stranger let himself fall on the couch again.

“I sweat a lot”

“Who cares?” Isagi stepped in, irritated “she’s gonna catch a cold! Go change in my room and get a towel for your hair” with a gentle push to your back, he shooed you out of the room and towards the stairs.

You looked every bit as ridiculous as one could guess, clothes way too baggy and long as your poor dress was left to dry in Isagi’s bathroom. While you patted your hair with a clean towel, you couldn’t help but cautiously pinch the collar of the shirt and sniff at the soft fabric. It smelled nice, of a fresh cleanliness that reminded you of baby powder.

When you sheepishly made your way back downstairs, the overall welcome was far warmer and already filled with a sweet, familiar flavor. Isagi’s friends were nice, funny in their excitement when having debates over matches and considerate when it came to not making you feel left out.

You sat on che couch opposite to the one where your savior was chilling, lazily listening to whatever his buddy was telling him. You had to inch forward and gently graze his knee to bring his attention to you, hazel gaze shortly traveling from your features to how his clothes sat on a body that was definitely not meant to wear them. Nagi just shrugged at your “thank you”, he didn’t mirror your smile nor he introduced himself, but he kept his eyes on you as Bachira resumed his questions about how Isagi was in high school and Kunigami offered you a beer to warm you up.

It was a nice night, one that left you with your cheeks hurting from how much you had been smiling. Catching up with Isagi was nice and even if to this day you still have no idea how he managed to sneakily save his number in your phone under the name of “Bachi”, getting to meet him and everyone else filled your heart with comforting joy. Finding new friends as an adult can be hard and having moved to an entirely different city definitely didn’t help, but the atmosphere in Isagi’s apartment served as a wonderful reminder of how, sometimes, the best surprises are just a text away.

That’s what you thought, while having casual conversations with men you had never met before and the eyes of one of them were so intently focused on you it was as if they were asking for some of that attention, of those questions, to be directed their way as well.  

So you complied and, much to Isagi’s and everyone else’s quiet astonishment, Nagi actually spoke and replied and nodded and turned his body towards you and even offered a hint of a smile when Yoichi started teasing the hell out of your high school self, all worried about grades, clubs, extra curricular activities.

The reason why Nagi kept observing you throughout the night, was mere curiosity. Contrary to popular belief, there were things that could spark his interest outside videogames and football. Someone able to enter a room full of strangers and attract their sympathies right away. Someone with a pretty smile, terrible jokes and a kind spirit that resembled Isagi’s. Someone who looked way too good in his clothes, so good he was tempted to blurt out a “keep them”.

Someone who accepted a ride home from Chigiri and Kunigami at the end of the night, exhanged a long hug with her best friend and endured the one Meguru forced on her with a laugh so sweet he wished he was the one offering you a ride home.

So you were gone, dress still not entirely dry tucked in your backpack and a shy wave of a hand, one promising “I’ll give you these back as soon as I can!” that wasn’t enough to stop him from casually asking Isagi if he could’ve held another party soon enough.

“Why?”

“So you can invite her again”

He doesn’t let the laugh he receives upon the request nor Bachira’s you should’ve asked for her number, idiot embarrass him. What would he know? He’s dated sporadically, things always kept very low effort and casual, girls asking him out and him saying yes because he wanted a spark, that something to be ignited, just like it happened whenever a ball touched his feet. He didn’t like being lonely.

So you and Nagi met again, over a coffee you insisted on buying to thank him for his kindness. His freshly laundered clothes were given back to him in a yellow bag, he still remembers the disappointment of not being able to find out how your scent would feel on his shirt.

His questions about your life were genuine, despite his monotonous tone you could tell he was making an effort at doing something he was not used to, which you found sweet.

Coffee turned into a stroll to get ice cream and when it felt like you had walked for miles through Sumida park, as he asked if you wanted to get dinner you couldn’t find it in yourself to refuse.

You liked listening to him, still tall and broad even when sitting in front of you but presence so oddly soothing you couldn’t stop asking and asking and asking. About his family, best friend, football journey, favorite games to play, that whole blue lock madness Yoichi has already told you all about. Nagi was always part of the “freaks” in his stories. It was never derogatory, he only used the term because “prodigy” would’ve been way too spoiling. Classic Yoichi, still managing to forget that he’s part of the freaks as well.

In the end, he did follow Bachira’s advice and asked for your number.

“I’ll give it to you but I’m leaving tomorrow”

“Leaving?”

“Yeah, I don’t live in Tokyo anymore”

He stared at you with features impossible to read, then took a small step and curled his body forward just enough to be closer.

“Nagoya, right? I could visit. Wouldn’t be a pain”

His straightforwardness was surprising and rendered you speechless for a few seconds, because this was not the guy Yoichi has described to you.

One year into your relationship and Nagi Seishiro couldn’t be more different than how he was presented to you by your friend. He’s sweet, considerate, never fails to ask you about your day and will get offended if you forget to text him goodnight.

When he’s overseas, he only facetimes if he’s absolutely certain you’re not too tired. If it’s too late in Japan, you’d have to be the one facetiming him because he never wants you to stay awake for too long, especially if you have work the following day.

He visits often, always insists on paying for your train tickets whenever you visit him. Loves spending time with you just resting in his arms, big hands sneaking underneath your shirt to gently trace your spine and massage your back if you’re lying on top of him, content sighs escaping his lips if his head rests on your lap and you run your fingers through his snowy hair, gently scraping his scalp.

He plays games on his phone while you read but will get up to help you as soon as you head to the kitchen to start putting dinner together. He wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your head, if you're not holding a knife he'll start tracing your neck and jaw with sweet kisses until you giggle and turn around to pull him closer.

When he has to leave for practice, he always asks if you have plans because he hates the idea of leaving you bored and alone. If you don’t and you feel like to, you’re always invited to go with him, so often that by now you’re the one casually asking Reo to come over to have dinner together after training sessions.

Nagi talks about his friends a lot, especially when he’s eating. He’d tell you about how Chigiri needs to stop putting too much pressure on his injured knee because it would be such a shame if a player like him had to stop for good. He thinks Isagi’s mind is incredible, albeit a little scary, just like Kunigami’s extra powerful left leg. Reo is the most important person in his life and you always make sure not to overstep, because you’d hate to intrude in a relationship as special as theirs. They both know.

Nagi doesn’t think loving you is a hassle, nor that it’s too much effort. He finds it surprisingly easy, actually. Caring for you and craving your touch feels natural, as if he was born to experience the simple joy of having hushed conversations with you in the dark of his bedroom when you’re both on the verge of drifting off. He's not scared you'll make fun of him so he tells you everything that’s on his mind, including the idea of getting a college degree eventually, maybe in history, just to give it a go. He discovers the wonder of taking care of someone else for the first time in his life, and just how good it makes him feel. He loves attempting to cook for you, brewing tea, heating soup and then feeding it to you if you have a cold. The blissful squeeze of his chest and stomach whenever the soft touch of your lips meets his is a prize he wouldn’t give up for all the world cups and top rankings and golden football career paths offered to him.

There are quite a few things that people who know Nagi Seishiro don’t believe he’s suited for but oh, what a delight has been to prove them all wrong with such ease and so much love not even he was aware he had it in himself to give.

[popponn]

a duck, a prince, and the snow.

note: was gonna make it hcs but uh. ehe. here, smth similar for chigiri haha. this is two iq shower thought situation. warning: none, fluff, post canon/pro au, reader’s gender unspecified, undertone of morons friends to lovers, prince & duckling (affectionately).

reo loves you enough to marry you the moment you demand it. with rings, grand ceremonies, and an even grander honeymoon. but the thing is, you are way too oblivious.

reo tries everything already—praises, flirting, dressing in the way you like the most, asking you to go to your favorite places together, buy you everything, special treatment, and many more. at this point, it’s probably easier to mention what he hasn’t tried yet—with “straight up confessing” sitting at the top of the “no way not yet no chigiri no nagi no way” chart. some people actually think this is some new brand of masochism—trapping oneself in a friendzone, but most of them stop thinking about this after seeing your dynamic with him once. as in it really is that painful to watch.

in your defense, this guy is indeed generous when he wants to be. so he could give you a diamond ring and you could read it either as a bribe for something or a random gift for that tuesday. the worst thing is probably how you are so genuinely unable to think of the more romantic possibility whilst the giving party is more than okay with it. really, sincerely, from the bottom of his heart.

because you could go “oh reo you are such a good friend! let’s be friends forever!” and this guy would probably look extremely constipated for 0.1 sec then before you could see it, all you got is a doting exasperation expressed through a charming prince smile on his face. in the way that is not even “ah well too bad, but we can do it next time” smile, but an “oh, how adorable. i truly am in love with them” smile. rinse and repeat for three years and more, that’s basically how this hellish adorable loop goes. talk about a guy who is in love with every part of you—even when the part is denser than a black hole.

but, like every fairytale, this prince too deserves a proper happy ending, doesn’t he?

Under the illuminations and falling snow, you wonder why Reo chooses to be here with you, walking through the cold December night with groceries in his hands. You feel bad for telling him that you are out shopping alone now, or at the very least you should have accepted his offer to bring his limousine. It feels wrong getting him carrying your things considering everything.

“Reo,” you begin sheepishly, reaching out to tug his jacket sleeve lightly with your empty hand. "You really don’t have to do this, you know.”

Reo, somehow, looks like he takes offense to that. “Huh? Why not? I want to. Plus, just imagining you waddling like a duck with two heavy grocery bags…” Dramatically, Reo trails off with a heavy sigh. A cloud of cold breath fogs his lips for a moment, but not enough to cover up the teasing smirk that follows, “…yeah, at least I want to watch that.”

You immediately nudge his side with an angry huff, all while fruitlessly trying to step on his feet. Whilst Reo laughs with too much mirth on his face, he avoids your vengeful foot with a grace that truly belongs to a professional soccer player. Some bystanders who walk past the two of you spares some glances, but as long as they do not recognize Reo who hides his face and hair under a miraculous yet simple black cap, you feel like you couldn’t care about them.

“I shouldn’t have felt bad for you! I’m trying to be considerate to your hands getting cramps and cold, you jerk!” you hissed finally, jutting out your tongue just as an extra gesture, before adding another protest as an afterthought, “And you called me a duck for that!?”

“You are worried about me? That’s sweet!” Reo smiles in a way that is positively shit eating. Then, he nudges back to your side, an act that is pretty much imitating your previous action, yet clearly, much gentler as he lets his shoulder stay pressed to yours as the two of you continue to walk. “Come on, don’t be mad. That means I will still take care of you even when you are a duck.”

You glare half-heartedly at that. Even if this sort of conversation—idle, with worth only the two of you could understand—is not rare, you really wonder why he seems so bubbly today. With your steps and his once again falling into a synchronous rhythm, you curiously ponder out loud, “So, what happened?”

Reo tilts his head, in a manner that is subjectively cute to you. “Hm?”

“Today, what happened? You seem happy. Did something good happen in your meeting? Or your training?”

“Uh… eh? Not really, honestly. Nagi was feeling kind of down, and Isagi also seemed to be in a bad mood, Rin—the younger Itoshi, you remembered?” he pauses, looking at your reaction before continuing after your nod. “Yeah, so that guy also got really angry today. Overall, it was a mess, but nothing new. The board meeting, uh, yeah—the greedy old guys somehow get greedier today.”

“Seriously?” You wince hearing all of those. “That… sounds like a really terrible day… are you okay?”

Reo’s face shifts once again into a very smug look, which you shoot down immediately with a glare straight to his handsome face. Seeing your unamused look, the half-lidded brattish look he wears immediately crinkles to a very bright happy look, with a smile that is wide enough to turn his eyes into a pair of crescent moons. It is beautiful—you think to yourself, silently, softly.

“Nah, as I said, nothing new about that too. Plus—” Reo suddenly leans his head against yours, letting his cold cheek glue itself against your equally cold one. Nonetheless, you still squawk ungracefully. “—I got a really cute duckling worrying about me and walking with me romantically like this. I will call that it’s a winning day!”

“Really now?” you ask again, exasperated and not really understanding the meaning behind his words. It feels like you are missing something—but you can’t really put a finger on it. Paying no more mind to that thought, you continue, “So, paying for me, coming running to me, and then getting me to walk with a prince who also carries my groceries is a payback for being the cute ducking?”

“Clearly,” Reo says, familiar pride and softness lacing his tone. It makes you laugh. It’s odd, but as how being in his presence really makes you feel at ease, it does feel pleasant to hear him feeling so with just a walk with you. But, before you can let that feeling settle quietly, Reo goes on, resting his gaze on you in a manner that feels too fond and affectionate, “But, even if without all those, I will still come running to you.”

Yet again, you feel like you are missing something. There is a heat that crawls up from the inner chamber of your chest, thrumming and warm and wonderful. Dizzying and confusing, but often presents itself for Reo and Mikage Reo only.

“I… I see,” you stammer out, your voice unconsciously turning into one that is just a few notes away from a whisper.

You don’t know what Reo sees in your expression, but with it, his eyes gleam in a very tender manner. “Well, but you see,” he begins, his voice mimicking a mocking tone, “while this prince’s hand is one warmed with groceries, the other one is still very empty and cold.”

“Oh?” you muse, seeing where this is going.

Boyish and as charming as always, Reo reaches his idle hand to yours, intertwining his finger with yours. One could say it feels like a scene from a drama, one could say it feels like something written by hopeless romantics, but ultimately, to you the fact that it is Reo that makes your breath hitches. Suddenly, it is very worrying if your hands are sweaty.

Wait, are they—

“Now, the prince feels very warm,” Reo, oblivious to your predicament, states cheekily with boldness veiling his eyes.

“…the prince is a prick,” you reply, knowing your defeat. It is unusual of him to do something like this, yet there is not even an ounce of desire in you to protest.

“As long as the duckling is okay with it, is it really a problem though?” he says, leaning even closer to your face.

At some point, you know you stop breathing. And Reo realizes it.

It is probably then that the tension between the two of you suddenly closes down its curtain. Something flashes through Reo’s eyes. And before you know it, the hold he has on your hand loosened, as if giving you permission to pull away.

Then, a part of your mind says, “Who cares about the duckling and prince anymore—”

And to that sentiment, you raise an enthusiastic agree.

Because it is Reo, probably, you tightened your hold around his hand. Your hand might be sweaty, and you might not get everything that is happening—but you know enough that this feels like the right choice.

“I am,” you answer resolutely, looking away from him and facing your front instead. “I am very okay with it.”

You have no courage to peek at your friend’s—your companion’s expression. And so, you miss the way his eyes light up, realizing and catching something that you haven’t realized yet. Thus, you too don’t expect the way he tugs you into a halt, stopping your steps just a few centimeters away from his.

When you turn to him, you find Mikage Reo. His eyebrows are furrowed under his cap, his lips bitten and pouting at the some time. With redness on his cheeks, as good-looking and as princely as he has always been to you, staring at you with a seriousness that spells out determination and more.

“Can I—”

On the middle of the sidewalk, surrounded by crowds who don’t recognize Mikage Reo and you, the two of you stand still. The snow continues to fall and none of you bring your gloves. In such a scene, Reo’s eyes never once left you.

“Can I tell you something?”

add. note: was it cheesy? unnecessarily so. did i lost the prompt somewhere? kinda. is it xmas? uh. what is this? uh. could it be better?...yeah i think i had fun tho <3 hope u too <3 blame jinshi and how this part came out the smoothest. also if this is in reo's pov lmao it's a mess there.

[veala2]

ʟᴜꜰꜰʏ’ꜱ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀʙᴇᴛ.

One Piece Fluff Alphabet: LUFFY.

CW - Luffy being Luffy and a little goofy, nothing serious or demeaning!

A/N - It’s spring break for me! I love spending time with family and friends so I might just be more inactive than I already am. Don’t worry though, Zoro’s is coming soon.

ʟ - ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴏɴᴇꜱ: ʜᴏᴡ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ?

Let’s be honest here: Luffy is a child himself. His childlike sense of wonder and massive amount of pure energy already leaving him seem much younger than he actually is.

We’ve already seen how Luffy is around children on different occasions. Whether he’s kind and gentle, loving and reassuring, or his same rambunctious self he can relate to a child pretty easily. The young emperor of the sea won’t treat a child like their some whining creature. Rather, he views everybody the same and won’t discriminate no matter who you are.

All in all, he’s fun and friendly with children! And if their his own in the near future, he’ll do everything in his power to support and protect his children.

ᴜ - ᴜɢʟʏ: ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙᴀᴅ ʜᴀʙɪᴛꜱ?

We all know some of Luffy’s little habits. He tends to get loud at times where it’s no good. He eats whatever he wants, whenever he wants. But, his worst habit is more like a flaw.

Luffy is a selfish person. Ever since the day he proclaimed to his brothers that he was going to be king of the pirates. He’s been taking what he wanted since the beginning of his journey. Yes, it’s safe to say Monkey D. Luffy is a selfish person. But, he’s not a selfish person for selfish reasons.

He does what he wants, but still helps other people. Kingdoms, countries, islands. It doesn’t matter who it is he will help them. Selfishly. And that’s what makes Luffy so great.

Is it a habit? Honestly, I thought this was better than saying he only takes 1 bath per week.

ꜰ - ꜰɪᴀɴᴄE: ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜᴇʏ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴍɪᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ?

How do they feel about commitment?

Luffy is a go with the flow kind of person. He doesn’t do plans all that well, and can barely keep himself from straying off to the other pay. So, having a ring on his finger that’s meant to stay there until the day he dies is not too appealing to him.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves you like crazy! He’d never even consider cheating on you. But being in a relationship, “tied down” he’d say, is something he would have to get used to.

But- in the end- he’d grow to love the simple ring that’s snug on your fingers. A symbol of the love between you two, and the adventure of life you’ll share together.

ꜰ - ꜰɪɢʜᴛ: ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʙᴇ ᴇᴀꜱʏ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴏʀɢɪᴠᴇ?

Luffy is Luffy. He wouldn’t change who he was for a second, even if he was going to die. His emotions are his and he will be who he is without any hesitation.

However… Luffy tends to say and do things when he’s angry that he wouldn’t mean. Remember Water 7? That fight between him and Usopp was powerful. The emotions set free and eventually drove Usopp away.

It might take a while to forgive Luffy. But he really does care about you and regrets what he said in the moment. After he explains himself and proves that he's sorry, I think it’d be pretty to forgive him.

ʏ - ʏᴜᴄᴋ: ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ, ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ᴏʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ?

What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in their partner?

In general, I believe that Luffy wouldn’t like someone who’s afraid and cowardly. Maybe just cowardly, seeing as you can be afraid and still be courageous. Thinking back to multiple examples of him saying he doesn’t like people who act like scaredy cats.

In a partner, I think he wouldn’t like- or would either deter them from him in general- would be not pursuing a dream. Luffy takes pride in his dream that he’s been working towards since he was a boy. And he respects those who have a dream that they’re going for, too. So if his partner won’t follow their heart, he would simply feel disappointed and discouraged with them.

Luffy’s goals are very precious. To both him and his crew. He’s willing to sacrifice everything for your dreams, so why not follow them and achieve what you’ve always wanted?

[thefirstlioveyou]

about queerbaiting

this is a byler doubt free post, don’t worry. i’m gonna dove into queerbaiting itself to prove why mike will be confirmed queer.

if byler isn’t canon, the ship as a whole wouldn’t be considered queerbait. however, the fact that mike would be confirmed to just see him as a good friend and is straight is considered queerbait.

byler itself is considered ship teasing due to the fact there’s confirmed feelings on one side already. ship teasing can happen with any type of ship, especially when there is a love triangle involved. ship teasing is done to grab an audience of any kind to watch the show. for example, them liking melvin comments is ship teasing as much as noah’s byler comments are.

because of the fact will byers is confirmed gay and in love with mike, the ship itself could not be qbait… that doesn’t mean the show doesn’t get away with no queerbaiting allegations though - mike wheeler by himself would have been what the queerbait was.

he is so heavily implied to be interested in will, giving will the eyes, how he speaks to him, how he treats him vs his girlfriend, how he cherishes him. outside of byler, he is also implied to not have any attraction to girls. he is the only other boy besides the canon gay boy to show distaste for girls when theyre put in a romantic/sexual light, the comments from his father, the imagery, his s4 bedroom, how he looks at el vs will, intereviews.

all this for him to be confirmed in love with a girl and not into boys in the end and that will’s just a really good friend to him, THAT’S queerbait as well as horrible writing.

however, let’s put ourselves in the shoes of producers and showrunners who do queerbait for a second…

“i want money and publicity. i also notice there’s hardly any queer content out there, i see how desperate the gays are. but.. if i dare even giving them what they want, that can lead to backlash and angry fans who drop the show, causing the viewership to go down, which can lead to the show being cancelled. but at the same time, if i give the gay part of the fanbase what they want that fanbase can grow bigger, which means a growing publicity about my show and ultimately more money for a bigger budget for another installment. but, i also don’t want to lose fans by doing this…. i have an idea! i’ll go 50/50. i’ll hint at a potiential queer characters and by the end of the show, once i got everything i wanted and needed, i’ll tell them they were just good friends or leave it up for interpretation, that way nobody drops the show and the homophobes stay happy. perhaps the gays will be mad, but i doubt they would drop the show. they’re too desperate and will take anything because there’s little to nothing for them anyway. i’m sooo smart, and a pussy!”

(sounds incredibly evil huh? it is.)

now, apply this to stranger things. there is no actual benefit they get from queerbaiting if we’ve already got two confirmed gay characters. they’re already taking the backlash they got from making will gay and from introducing robin in s3, yet… they don’t care. as they should.

think about this… why leave only ONE heavily implied gay character amongst canon ones just to debunk it afterwards to pander to homophobes, when you’ve already pissed them off with said canon gays?? there’s no sense in that. like. at ALL.

noah could’ve just said will’s sexuality was up to interpretation and left it as that. in the end, they had confirmed it later because they wanted to save the audience from spoilers. that’s the same thing happening for mike. him being queer and in love with will is a spoiler and plot twist, they’re not gonna reveal it now, even though it’s blantly obvious.. the same way it was obvious will liked mike.

these big hollywood people queerbait because they BENEFIT from it viewership-wise and ultimately fincially. if stranger things already features canon gay characters with a coming confirmed gay relationship between two girls, they get zero benefit with not falling through and not confirming mike queer, only pure backlash, nothing more or less.

never forget:

they’ve straight baited the audience once no problem, they’ll do it again if they really want to. as they should!

[animeyanderetalker]

Hi not a request just a few questions if that’s ok ^^

In a crossover yandere poly way who you think would get along with each other the most by sharing their darling?

I think Yato and Naruto would get along same with Luffy and natsu

Naruto positive attitude would definitely match Yato but if Naruto delusional it could either make Yato delusional “that of course reader didn’t forget them their just been busy , they not all there today , reader just tired” or it could lead to arguments and jealousy since Naruto doesn’t have to worry if he becomes forgotten like Yato does.

Natsu and Luffy both happy , love to eat and likes adventures reader might possibly be the safest person around ? Ones a literally demon dragon and the other one fights overlords for breakfast XD or maybe not if their don’t like to share 👀

For the people I don’t think would get along possible Sebastian and Sukuna both demons who probably won’t like to share their mate?

love to hear your thoughts ^^

I have watched so much Anime that I am sure that I will have overlooked some characters in here. I'll start by elaborating on the few ideas you have mentioned already:

Naruto & Yato

I think Yato would definitely feel jealous still, especially since Naruto isn't a god in the way Noragami has established gods to be which means that reader would be able to see the blonde boy whilst Yato will remain still as the overlooked one. If we're assuming that Naruto genuinely respects Yato and is sharing a darling with him, I actually think he would make it worse even if he has good intentions. As you have already mentioned, he would try to cheer up by assuring him that you probably just had a busy day or are too tired but that would make Yato feel only worse in the longer run even if he would try to believe Naruto's words. He's lived too long after all to deny the truth.

Natsu & Luffy

There are definitely a lot of similarities between those two though considering that Luffy is a pirate and Natsu has a very strong motion sickness, he'd spend entire journeys just being sick if he were to ever get on a ship though the mage would do it for you without hesitating. I actually think how well this would work depends on Luffy since he is actually more specific with the people he would be willing to share with. You have to keep in mind that this is a guy who deadass forgets people if they do not leave an impression on him though that's not something that would happen with Natsu. I think it could work and Luffy would for sure be excited with the aspect of traveling through Natsu's world and discovering new things but I also think that he would at times get unpleasant flashbacks if he sees Natsu using his fire magic since Ace used flames as well.

Midoriya & Tanjiro

Two delusional sweethearts who would do absolutely everything for their darling. Both are quite altruistic and have chosen a life where they fight to protect people from the danger existing within their respective verses and would give the world to their darling and would protect them no matter what. Additionally I can fully see Izuku being respectful to Nezuko without thinking of her as any danger which would instantly take care of one potential conflict Tanjiro would otherwise have with him.

Itadori & Ichigo

They'd probably be instant friends if I have to be honest because I can genuinely see both of them vibing together if they were to ever cross paths. Both were living a normal life after all before shit went down in high school for them and they were sucked into a world previously unknown to them. Between Itadori and a literal shinigami, you are in safe hands and a shared relationship with those two would actually feel very normal because there is none of the delusional sweetness you'd receive in the relationships above, especially with someone like Midoriya. Whilst Itadori is also someone who is delusional he acts more casual about it whilst Ichigo is more aware of his feelings between the two of them but doesn't have to step up to stop Itadori from doing weird shit.

Nami & Lucy

Both of them unite because they're tired of playing babysitter for Natsu and Luffy and I bet sharing stories about the sheer stupidity of those two boys will make for a great bonding experience as both have definitely a lot to tell each other. They'd probably also show interest in each other's specialities so Nami would be amazed with Lucy's Celestial Keys whilst Lucy would be very keen for Name to tell her more about the maps she has already drawn as well as telling her more about the islands she has been on which would flatter Nami. Both are a smidge delusional but would still balance each other out because Nami is someone who at times would be more of a no nonsense type of person whilst Lucy would quickly appease her and help her to calm her ire. I can also alternatively see Nami & Erza working out but I genuinely think Erza would be at times a bit too intense with her scary aura even for Nami and would end up freaking her and you out at the same time.

[callofdudes]

I don’t know if you’ve been asked this before, but could you do your own take on an AceReader who loves the boys (all 141 guys and König) but feels like they can’t tell them that as they don’t feel Sexually attracted to them? But the boys don’t care (Or knew that already) and they just want to be happy with them? I would love to read how you would go about it <3

I messed up the ask for this one and didn't read it properly. It's really hot here guys I'm not processing things right I guess. But if you want to see the same thing with the actual prompt above you can for it here!

Telling them you love them (platonic)

Summary: Aroace reader struggles to tell the boys they love them with the fear of not actually being romantically or sexually attracted to them. (Different prompt than above :/)

Love has always been a point of tension for you. People sometimes didn't agree with how you chose to live your life. One thing that was practically shoved down your throat was that you cannot say, or express any kind of romantically portrayed affection to anyone you weren't attracted to. You wanted to tell the boys you loved them, but you weren't sexually attracted to them. You didn't want them to take it bad or misunderstand...

Ghost 💀

You knew Ghost wasn't keen on love. He wasn't really keen on anything. So attempting to tell him you loved and appreciated him without being given a glare and a smack in the face was hard.

You usually kept to buying him gifts on the occasion, aiming to finish the paperwork he gave you early. But it all never felt like real appreciation.

You didn't want Ghost thinking that you were into him. Because that just wasn't it. You were sure he was a very attractive man, but he was your friend.

It was easier just to write him a note, put down all your complicated emotions on paper and hope he would understand. And you dropped it in his office, worried he would freak out and yell at you for everything you said.

You were looking at documents on your computer when Ghost came into your office, completely unannounced.

"Sergeant."

"Oh- lieutenant!"

He holds up the note, placing it gently on your desk. You look down, immediately feeling ashamed of what you wrote. You wanted to cower away, not knowing how he would react. Would he be mad?? He obviously thought you liked him by the way he came in.

"I'm not mad."

You flick your eyes back up, still feeling ashamed of the things you'd written.

"But I don't... Well, y'know."

"It's not like that..." You mutter, suddenly afraid to look up at him. Ghost's stance softens, voice getting a bit calmer.

"I know it's not." He steps forward and reaches out his hand, gently ruffling your hair.

You frown, looking up at him. "I love you... Just platonically. I just didn't know how to tell you..."

"Yes sergeant, I understand. Don't worry."

You smile, feeling relief fill you. "You gonna say it back??"

He huffs. "Maybe one day."

"I'll take that." You smiled and squeezed his hand. "You're a good friend Ghost. Really, you are."

The man hummed and nodded, squeezing your hand back. "Thank you I guess... You're not too bad yourself."

You chuckle and stand, eagerly embracing him. "I love you, Simon."

He tensed, but patted your back gently. "I know. Thank you."

Gaz 🧢

Gaz was quiet and reserved. Not like Ghost, but he was a private person. He preferred most of his time alone and you often wondered how Soap managed to drag him into such a tight knit friendship.

But you'd also grown close to Gaz. He wasn't as good with expressing his feelings in words he thought fit, so he just tried not to.

But you knew him for him. The music he liked, the movies and the bands. You two would spend hours just laughing and talking together in the quietness of the base, the best of friends.

You have wanted to express to Gaz how much you love him for a while now. But considering both of you couldn't get a grasp for proper words, you were afraid he would misunderstand.

You were waiting by the cargo station, knee bouncing as you waited for the plane to open. Their mission had been met with problems and there was a slim chance they'd all come back alive.

When you saw Gaz you immediately ran to him, pulling him into your arms and hugging him tightly. "Oh thank goodness."

Gaz was a little surprised but hugged you back. You both stood there like that for a bit until you said it, you didn't care. You'd bottled it in in fear for so long, and you'd almost lost him. You almost lost your best friend. "I love you so much."

Gaz didn't question it. Didn't dig into it. He only held you tighter, reassuring you he loved you back, and he wasn't going anywhere. There wasn't any need for clarification, there just was. Just two best friends so glad to be back with each other.

"You should get cleaned up. I'll make you some tea as well."

Gaz smiles. "You're awesome, thank you."

And without a second thought you both parted ways for a time.

Price 🥃

Price was a warm yet harsh soul. You'd known him for a couple years and he'd been amazing guidance for you. Always a light you could follow. In the darkest of times you could always reach for his hand and be assured you'd find it.

After a recent mission you'd come back a little scratched up. You thought you were going to die and were in tears when you walked over to Price, feeling his arms wrap around you to comfort you.

He hadn't been there with you that time. But you were relieved to be back. Even when he pulled you into his office to clean your face you were still softly crying.

"It's alright sergeant, I've got you..." Price reassured as he pressed the alcohol pad to your chin.

You sniffled, wiping a tear from your cheek. "Price??"

"Yes sergeant. I'm right here."

You sniffle. "You know I love you right?"

He looks deep into your eyes, taking a moment to process your body language and fully understand. "I love you too sergeant. I'm glad you're ok."

You nodded a little. "You... You know it's not sexual right? I'm sorry if..." You asked weakly.

"I know kiddo, I know." He patted your shoulder. "Come here, you're still a little shaken up aren'tcha?"

You nod and crawl into his arms, feeling him hug you tightly. "It's alright. I'm here."

"I love you Price." You choked out again. He softly shushed you, keeping you in his arms. "I know kiddo, I know."

Soap 🧼

Johnny was not unfamiliar with your secrets. He knew you very well and had come to learn of your lack of romantic attraction to others. Didn't change how he saw you, you were still his bestie.

He himself was conflicted in if he should tell you that he loves you. Even if it was meant to be platonic he didn't know how you might take it and wanted to remain respectful of you and your boundaries.

You laid on his bed with him, listening and joking as he told you a story about setting off a small bomb near the recruit bathrooms.

He was laughing so hard his face turned red, smiling wide as his hand brushed across yours while trying to find air.

You smiled back, gently taking his hand in yours. "Soap??" You look up at him with a slightly less whimsy gaze, contemplating the heaviness of your next words.

He slowly calmed down and looked at you. "What is it??" He could see the look in your eye and shuffled closer, getting slightly into your bubble without realizing.

You felt comfortable with him. So incredibly comfortable. All those years fretting and worrying what he'd think. All you saw right now was the smile of your best friend and how much you loved him...

"Soap, I just want you to know... You're my best friend and.." you squeeze his hand. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I love you."

John is a little quiet for a moment. "You do??"

His frown makes you worry as you rush to explain you don't mean it romantically. You just really love him as a friend and everything about him.

It makes a smile spread across his face. He takes your hand and places if against his chest. "You are the most amazing friend in the whole world y/n. I don't know what I'd ever do without you. I love you too."

You smile softly, happy to have said it. "Now tell me what happened with that buzzer." And you two jumped back into conversation.

König 🐙

You sighed, bouncing your knee in agitation. The thought of your first solo mission... You'd be lying if you said it wasn't daunting. You'd always gone on missions with König or different members from KorTac. But you'd never been assigned your own mission.

You started to question if you'd be good enough and could get home ok. It made you worry, if you'd ever come back.

You were wrapped up in your thoughts, not noticing the large figure who sat down next to you, leaning over to look at your face. "What has you looking like that y/n?"

You looked up at the sound of his voice and sighed. "I'm just nervous about the mission..."

He nodded understandingly and took your hand in his. "You'll be alright. I do not doubt your abilities one bit you know. You'll do it."

You chuckle softly. "You say that now but... What if I get hurt??"

"Then I'll come find you." He squeezes your hand. "But you will be alright."

You nod. "König? You know... You've really been a good friend. And you've helped me grow so much since I've been here... I really don't know what I'd do without you here with me."

He tutted softly. "Do not start writing the words for your obituary, y/n."

You sigh, leaning against his shoulder, relishing the last hours you have with him before you'll be sent off. "I... I love you König... You know that? You're everything to me. My best friend and-"

"Shh" he squeezes your hand. "Take some deep breaths." He smiles softly. "I love you too, but do not expect you to be going anywhere soon. Ok?"

You relax, seeing how it wasn't a big deal. Just two friends against the world with nothing to lose but each other. "Ok."

Alejandro & Rudy.

Alejandro sighed loudly, flopping down on the couch next to you and Rodolfo.

"Well well, welcome back Mr. Vargas." You chuckle, putting down your phone to see his tired expression. "How did it go?" Rodolfo asked lazily, eyes still trained on his book, curled up on the couch, his thigh against yours.

"I'm so glad to be off my feet." Alejandro sighed, grabbing the tv remote and turned it on, flipping through the shows before finding something to play.

He gets back up again and wanders into the kitchen, grabbing three ice cold drinks, tossing the other two to you guys who eagerly catch them and crack them open.

Alejandro huffs when he sits back down, taking a swig and finally relaxing. "Glad to be back with my two favorite people."

You and the boys were close enough and comfortable enough that you were ok with their physical touch, so you were used to Alejandro wrapping a respectful arm around your shoulder and you'd usually end up snuggled up, giving Rodolfo the room to join when he wanted.

Today was no different as you snuggled up to his side and felt his warmth. "Geez, maybe you need a bath. And you smell fuckin' awful." You snort.

Rodolfo chuckles and nods. "I can smell you from here Ale."

The man only rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Ya both better appreciate my presence. It's a gift."

You snuggled closer. "You work really hard for us Alejandro. You deserve all the rest today." You smile and hug his waist. You really did appreciate him. The fear and the worry of what he might think, of how he'd feel if you ever expressed it... But you went for it. You wanted him to know how much you appreciated him.

"I love you, Ale. Like I said, you're an amazing friend and you support us so much. Working your butt off like this just so we get a few hours off."

He looks down, a little surprised, but smiled softly. "I love you too y/n, I'm glad to have you at my side."

You stick out your foot, bumping your feet against Rodolfo's. "You too mister!" He looks up and smiles. "You are a good friend y/n, it's a blessing to have you with us."

"Then come here you, get in on the cuddles."

Rodolfo huffs and puts down his book, but curls up with you two as you all watch the show. Nothing better than spending time with your two favorite people.

[endless-summer-soldier]

cruel to be kind - chapter two

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (90s college AU)

summary: it started with a dare. Bucky restlessly pursues Y/N, seeking just one date. as he chases her, he realizes she's different from she challenges him, so he starts to catch feelings. but it all falls apart when she learns about his initial motivations. based on 10 things I hate about you!

warnings: alcohol use, cursing

word count: 1.9k

a/n: my taglist was getting messy so I created a sign up form! please complete and indicate your fic preferences. even if you're already being tagged, I'd really appreciate if you'd complete this! link for the sign up is here

series playlist

series masterlist

taglist: taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @ozwriterchick @notmeddy @drewsuncrustables @lokidokieokie @hextech-bros @nats-whore @m4nulup1n @arcanebabe @tanyaspartak @jackiehollanderr @princezzjasmine @fallenlilangel99 @pono-pura-vida @mavrellover91 @milanaasblog @marvel-wifey-86 @helluvapimp @charmedbysarge @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @unaxv @theroyalmanatee @tellmealovestory @zanneme (click here to be added!)

Bucky knocked twice on her front door and waited for about three minutes before knocking again. The door flew open and Y/N stood in front of him, clad in an oversized T-shirt and a pair of bike shorts.

“Can I help you,” she phrased it more as a statement than a question.

“Did you forget about our plans, doll?” he asked.

“You were serious?” she retorted.

“As the plague.” They squared off in an unspoken staring contest until Y/N finally blinked.

She sighed, “Fine. I’ll give you an hour.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” She grabbed her keys and slid on a pair of converse and Bucky smiled to himself. He loved that she was going to a party in an oversized T-shirt and no makeup on. She truly didn’t care what anyone thought of her and she wasn’t there to impress anyone. Little did she know that her IDGAF attitude was impressing him.

“How did you even know where I live? Creep.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I’m not letting you evade that question. I need to make sure you aren’t actually stalking me.”

“My friends live next door. You’re always banging on the wall telling us to keep it down.”

“Ah, so you’re one of the degenerates. It’s all making sense now.”

“Well you’re on a date with one of the degenerates, so what does that make you?”

“This is not a date.”

“Oh no? Then what is it?”

“We are going to a party.”

“We are going to a party…together. Which is a date.”

“What if I turn around and go home…alone. What is that considered?”

“Come on doll, don’t do that.” She stood there frozen, glaring at him. “Stay for one drink and then, if you want, I’ll take you home.”

“Fine. And stop calling me doll.” They continued walking in silence. Bucky wanted to talk to her but he wasn’t going to risk pissing her off. 

“Where are we going anyway?” she asked, breaking the tension. 

“Some frat party. I told some people I would make an appearance. It’s not much further.”

“Really, a frat party? I haven’t been to one of those since freshman year.”

“If it helps, it’s one of the nicer frats.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Think of it like a walk down memory lane. You can relive your younger days and impart your wisdom on the underclassmen.”

“Oh, well in that case, I can’t wait!” she said with false enthusiasm. They walked up the sidewalk towards the surprisingly immaculate mansion. The only sign of the fraternity was the three greek letters mounted by the front door. Bucky walked through the entrance like he owned the place. He walked right past the pledges who were collecting entry fees without a blink of an eye and led her into the kitchen which was packed with people. Music from the basement was flowing into the room and there was a crowd circled around a keg, seeking a fresh pour. Bucky pulled two shot glasses out of a drying rack full of dishes and placed them on the counter as he retrieved a flask from his back pocket. 

“Whiskey okay?” he asked, as he filled the shot glasses. She nodded and they clinked the glasses together before downing the dark liquor.

“You bring your own liquor to these things?” she asked.

“If you want cheap liquor that’s been poured into a top-shelf bottle, go for it.”

“I’m not complaining, just curious.”

“Call it trust issues.” Before she could ask any other questions, he opened a cooler and pulled out two cans of cheap beer. He swiftly cracked them both and handed one to her. She immediately chugged close to half the can and Bucky looked at her with concern.

“It’s weird being here sober,” she explained.

“Can’t say I blame you,” he said. He passed her the flask and she took a quick swig and handed it back to him. He did the same and their night began.

Bucky couldn’t figure out when he’d lost her. They started the night at the beer pong table, defeating every challenger that came their way until they were coerced into playing flip cup. Bucky shouldn’t have been surprised that she was good at drinking games; she was competitive by nature. He had assumed she was always on the field or studying, but she also seemed to have a talent for drinking. Or so he thought.

He heard a roar of cheers coming from the other room and he followed the sound, hoping to find Y/N. And boy did he find her. She was standing on the pool table as “Hypnotize” by Notorious B.I.G. started blasting from the speakers. She started dancing on the table like she was in the club, rolling her hips and flipping her hair. She was either completely oblivious to the crowd of fraternity brothers surrounding her makeshift stage or she didn’t care. She dropped her hips low until she was suddenly on all fours doing a cat crawl across the table. Bucky pushed his way through the crowd, determined to get her off the table before she realized what she was doing. As she reached the end of the table she started to make her way back to a standing position. After a few hip gyrations, she bent over to complete another hair flip, only she hadn’t realized the lighting fixture was lower on this side of the table. Bucky saw the scene unfold in slow motion as she flipped her head back and it immediately made contact with the light. The crowd gasped, seemingly concerned, as her body gave out and she fell backwards. Bucky caught her effortlessly in his arms as she went limp and he pulled her off the table and away from the crowd. Despite the scene that had just played out, the music kept playing and people kept drinking as if nothing had happened.

He carried her out to the back porch and he ordered one of the pledges to bring her some water. He lowered her onto the porch step and sat down next to her, keeping his hand around her back to keep her up. She was starting to regain consciousness and as she woke up under Bucky’s arm she squinted at him in confusion.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that question. Here, drink some water.”

“Is it drugged?” she asked, before taking a sip from the red solo cup.

“No,” he said emphatically. “Do you really think I would do that?”

She didn’t answer his question and instead finished the cup of water.

“I think I’m just gonna take a quick nap,” she said leaning her head back on Bucky’s shoulder.

“No, no, no. You need to stay awake.”

“Whyyyyy?” she whined.

“Because you might have a concussion.” He felt her weight fall into his shoulder and he pulled her up. “Hey, hey…stay with me,” he said lightly smacking her face to keep her up.

She groaned and looked at him. “You don’t care about me,” she slurred.

“Sure I do. Without you I would have to go out with girls who actually like me. Where’s the fun in that?”

He expected her to laugh at the joke but when she didn’t, he looked down at her to make sure she was okay. She was staring up at him with a look of concentration on her face. He didn’t say a word, not wanting to interrupt whatever thoughts were racing through her brain.

“Your eyes are really pretty,” she eventually said. “There’s little flecks of green in them.”

He sighed, “You must be really drunk if you’re giving me compliments. Come on, let’s get you home.”

He pulled her up from the porch and she swayed in his arms, not yet able to support her own weight. 

“Jump onto my back,” he said.

“What?” she questioned, confusion displayed all over her face.

“Climb on my back and I’ll carry you home.”

“I’m fine,” she said, taking another step and stumbling on the grass. 

“Come on, it’ll be quicker this way.”

“Fine,” she mumbled. She placed her hands on his shoulders and he lowered himself so that she could climb on. She hoisted herself up and Bucky intertwined his arms with her legs to keep her secure.

Bucky carried her with ease and they made it about halfway to her apartment when she spoke up again.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Why am I being nice to you?” he echoed back, like the question was blasphemous. “Because I like you.”

“But I’m not very nice to you.”

“Oh trust me, I know. But that’s part of what makes you so interesting.”

She became quiet again, resting her head on his shoulder, “You falling asleep back there?”

“Nooo…” she groaned.

“Better not be,” he teased. “We’re almost there.” He picked up the pace a little more, knowing she was growing tired. When he reached her building, he gently returned her to the ground and steadied her.

“Do you have your keys?” he asked. She handed them over to him and he opened the door to the building and offered his hand to Y/N. She gave him a low five and walked inside. He chuckled to himself, even after a head injury she still had sass. She stopped in front of her apartment door and Bucky found the next key needed to open the apartment. She turned the key in the lock and stepped inside, leaving the door open for Bucky to follow her in.

She sat down on the couch and he walked into the kitchen to pour her a glass of water.

“You know, you don’t know me,” she said out of nowhere.

“I think I know more than you think,” he countered.

“Yeah, like what?”

He sat down next to her on the sofa. “I know that you like indie music but you also like classic rock from the 70s. While you aren’t the poster child for school spirit, you almost always find time to go to other teams games. You don’t like any condiments on your hot dogs. You turn everything into a competition. And I know that you don’t care about what anyone thinks about you, which I find incredibly attractive.”

Her gaze shifted and she leaned in a little closer to him, “You aren’t as vile as I thought you were…”

“Sometimes if you give people a chance, they surprise you,” he smiled at her, “Well I should get going.”

“I think…” she placed a hand on his thigh, “you should stay.” She glanced down towards his lips and her face inched closer to his.

Bucky took in a deep breath, feeling knots in his stomach and what he was about to do. She was so close that he could feel her breath on his skin.

He cleared his throat and softly said, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea." Her eyes connected with his and she pulled back, a flicker of embarrassment on her face that quickly turned to rage.

“Fine, then get out,” she said with venom. She stood up and stormed into her bedroom, slamming the door. Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, but knew it was the right call. He couldn’t make a move on her when she was either drunk or concussed. It didn’t feel right. But now he would have to find a way to reopen the door that was just slammed in his face.

Before leaving, Bucky slid a note under her roommate’s door, letting her know about the potential concussion. He just wanted to make sure someone kept an eye on her.

[shycroissanti]

I know you like to be welcoming to everyone, but it’s okay to not ship your OCs with everyone else’s. I can’t imagine how overwhelmed you get trying to make everyone happy. And I also can’t imagine how many people are struggling for your attention when you make a new character and the only interest they have in it is shipping. It sort of breaks my heart to see you make a new oc and the only people who seem to care about it are people trying to make a ship.

I see you’re getting burned out more often and taking a lot of breaks… but your blog should be a fun place, not something you avoid because you’re stressed by it. Maybe limiting requests or only keeping OC ships to good friends would help you relax. You don’t have to take my advice if this makes you happy. I’m just a bit worried about you. Especially since you seem tired all the time and recently made a post saying you were worried about people being upset with you if your characters already had ships and you didn’t want to add any more.

I would also like to say that some people like the shipping because they just want free art of their OC and less because they actually want to bond with you. Many people do not realize they are being like this.

Your real friends will not be bothered by you putting up boundaries. The only people that will be upset are selfish, too young to understand, or people who didn’t consider your feelings at all.

Just take care of yourself, Shy. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping. And of if I have this totally wrong, just say so.

You're right, I recognize that I've been doing this lately...

It's a fact, I'm very afraid of making others upset, I really want to please everyone. I've actually been feeling a little overwhelmed lately, but I don't know how to deal with it.

I love making ships with my OCs with the OCs of my moots, I really really like this interaction, I was just getting worried about the situation where more than one person wants to make ships with a single OC, I'm afraid of causing confusion with that.

I'll get better with this, I swear, I even want to tell you that I've been trying to be more like you, you know? "Post what you want" I've been trying to do this more often and it's making me happy🥹

I have several plans for the future with my OCs and I'm optimistic about that, even if I'm still a bit clumsy at communicating, and I'm pretty sure that everything I wrote here must be a little confusing because it really took me by surprise, I really value your attention and words so much and after I read everything (including what you said in the other posts too), I started crying, in a good way❤️

[kiragecko]

This is a post about why I'm currently considering myself to be nonbinary, but it's not a post about gender.

-

It’s about 90% of the elementary school girls wanting to sit on the grass and talk about boys, and me still not understanding why even now, in my mid 30s.

It’s about ‘girls books’ that were all about friendship drama and worrying about menstruating, and how these were framed as universal concerns. My only friends were a pair of male cousins and we mostly cared about how our Lego ninjas’ castle infiltration was going. (The options were limited in my small library in the mid-90s.)

It’s about the ‘wild’, ‘disobedient’, and 'hyper' kids in the books I grew up with being so much better behaved than me, even on my best day, that I’d puzzle over it for weeks. Maybe if my parents were stricter I would be able to follow instructions easier? Maybe I was one of the mean kids in those books? Why was nobody in books like me?

It’s about the revulsion I feel when I think about ‘romantic’ gestures. Remembering my mom getting flowers from someone at church, and my aunt getting upset when I laughed about how she wouldn’t like them. MY MOM IS ALLERGIC TO FLOWERS, but a person who had nothing to do with the situation got offended that I didn’t consider them a thoughtful and nice gift. It makes me feel nauseous thinking about how I’m ‘supposed’ to think things that I don’t want and can’t use are loving gifts, just because society decided they were.

It's about people wanting me to already know their social conventions, and feeling like they are doing SO MUCH WORK when they make allowances for my mistakes, but thinking that learning anything about how I like to communicate is asking far too much of them.

It's about trying to make friends as a teen, and all the guys getting upset or weird when it became clear that wasn't code for dating.

It's about makeup giving me rashes, and my hair being done up giving me headaches.

It’s about women in lingerie in ads, and how I wore a headscarf for a year in reaction to how that made me feel.

It's about learning biblical gender roles, and getting really excited about the idea of protection and love in return for submission. And then finding out I like the BDSM understanding of protection and submission a lot more than I like the church's. That the person I love doesn't have the skill to protect me in ways that make submission safe.

It’s about having noise and light sensitivities, but being expected to enjoy crowded weddings.

It’s about people acting disgusted when I get too loud. Or excited. Or happy. Or interested.

It's about 'body language experts' that ""explain"" what various gestures mean, and it's about that month when my husband believed them and told me I was wrong about what I felt.

It's about definitions of 'womanhood' and 'humanity' that contain things that exclude me. And learning how to be okay with being the exception this time. And eventually getting so used to being the exception that I can no longer connect to the concept at all.

It's about only reading fantasy, now, because an elf's experience isn't supposed to be relatable.

It’s about learning that ‘I actually wanted’ things I didn’t want, and I was ‘unreasonable’ when I said no, and I was being ‘too sensitive’ when things physically or emotionally hurt.

It’s about being ADHD and aroace and weird in far too many ways; in a culture that seems to consider that to be willful rebellion and disrespect.

-

I don’t know how to be a woman. I don’t know how to feel good about being a woman. I don't feel I can fulfill the roles and dynamics associated with femininity. I can't present myself in the expected ways, and I don't really want to. In isolation, 'woman' feels like an accurate description. But than I think of OTHER people considering me a woman, and having the right to define what that means, and I just can't.

I need a break from considering myself female, so I can figure out how to do it in a way that doesn’t break me.

I want to learn how to interact with other people in a way that are less exhausting and painful. Engage on my own terms, and disengage if those terms aren’t fulfilled. Protect my own boundaries with strangers and acquaintances - people I don’t expect to make allowances for me. Not by demanding things of them, but by only offering myself on certain terms.

I don't want to ask anything about anyone else. I'm tired of it being about them. I want to ask things of myself. Ask for respect, and care. Figure out what that would actually look like. I want to process and let go of my self-hatred and feelings of being 'designed wrong'.

I've heard the terms 'acegender' and 'neurogender'. They don't excite me, but I recognize that's part of what's going on. Having ADHD gets in the way of performing womanhood to the point that it becomes hard to separate them. And some much of femaleness is defined in relation to being a part of a heterosexual romantic couple. I've got the man, but that hasn't helped me decode the mysteries of romantic and sexual attraction. The baffling concept of men having some sort of allure that women lack, of being a different category.

But, like my marriage isn't about my lack of attraction (it's about the choice I made to love him, and the decade plus of commitment we've had to each other), being nonbinary isn't about my lack of understanding of and ability to perform womanhood. It's about choosing to love myself, and recognizing that I've internalized enough harmful beliefs that I can't healthily identify as female right now.

It's not about gender.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

drabble #1 - shots

kol mikaelson x reader

summary: of all the places for your secret crush to be revealed, of course it's at a loud, unruly bar. and, of course, your crush overhears everything you say about him.

tags: alcohol, drinking games, secret crush, minor steroline

word count: 953

For the last three hours, you and Caroline have been in the grill, getting drunker by the minute. An innocent game of rating people who walked through the door quickly became a less-than-innocent game of electing how many shots it would take to kiss said people. Then, of course, things took a turn when instead of asking about strangers, the questions came about friends. Now, you’re in a full fledged, back-and-forth, public game of how many shots it would take to kiss your friends. 

“How many shots to kiss Matt?” You ask.

“Considering I’ve already kissed him, probably none. The embarrassment is already gone. Been there, done that. Now, how many shots would it take you to kiss Jeremy?”

“Girl, like ten, to get over the fact that I’m kissing Elena’s little brother. I mean, he’s good-looking enough, but oh my god.”

“True. Okay, your turn.”

“Hmmm… oh, this is a good one. John Gilbert.”

Caroline chokes on her tequila shot. “That is not a friend!”

“I’m branching out.”

“Like, a thousand!”

You erupt in a fit of laughter, “same. Straight alcohol poisoning.” 

“How many to kiss… Alaric?”

“Saltzman? Seriously?”

“Mhm. And give a real number. Be honest.”

“Ugh. Well he’s not unattractive, but he’s also our teacher, Care. Ummm… sixteen.”

“Very specific.”

“I thought about it thoroughly.”

“Clearly.”

“Okay. How many to sleep with-”

“When did this turn into ‘sleep with’?! I thought we were kissing!”

“Shut up,” you giggle, “how many to sleep with Stefan?”

Caroline goes quiet immediately. She starts counting on her fingers. “Six. Because we’re kinda friends, but not super close. And he’s also Elena’s ex, and Damon’s brother, so that makes things a little weird.”

“Really?”

“What would you say?”

“I’m not sure, actually.”

“Alright then.” She looks around the restaurant for a minute. In a split second, her eyes land on someone, then bounce off immediately. When she turns back to you, she’s smirking. “How many would it take for you to sleep with Kol Mikaelson?”

On a normal day, you’d blush red and refuse to answer. But tonight, you’re too drunk to remember you have to hide your crush on the man. “Two. Both solely for confidence.”

Her jaw drops, “Y/N!”

“What?!”

“You’d sleep with him barely drunk? Not even drunk, like slightly tipsy?”

“Girl, I’d sleep with him sober, I just need the confidence boost.” You shift in your seat as she says nothing. “I know you feel the same way about Stefan, so don’t come at me!”

“I said six!”

“I know you’d do less, given the chance!”

“Y/N!”

“What?! He’s hot,” you mutter, “and I like a bad boy.”

“You’re crazy,” she laughs, “we’re gonna need another bottle for this. I’ll be right back.” She saunters off towards the bar, still shocked, but also giggling, about your truthful answer. 

“Might take me a shot of confidence, too, darling. To match your boldness.” A voice comes from your left. You whip around to find its owner, just to come face-to-face with Kol himself. 

Your face pales.

“Aw, come on, don’t get shy on me now.”

“Did- did you?”

“Hear you? Definitely. Vampire hearing, darling. Plus, girls get louder when they’re drunk.” He smiles. “But not to worry, I’m flattered it would only take a couple confidence shots to sleep with me. Say, we can make that a reality. I’ll admit, the reason I come to this bar every night with my brother is on the off-chance that you’d be here. Looks like I came on the perfect night.”

“You look for me?” You stutter on your words.

“Not in a creepy way, but like an ‘I need to know you’ way. Seems to me that you’d like to know me better too, if it’s not so outlandish of me to suggest.”

“No, not at all.”

“Sounds lovely. Meet you at seven, here, tomorrow night?” 

“I’d love to.”

“Perfect, then.” He takes your hand and kisses it. “See you then, darling.”

He leaves with enough time to spare so that Caroline doesn’t cross his path.

“I nearly had to fight Matt for the bottle. He tried to say we’re too drunk. But- why are you blushing?”

“I’m not blushing.”

“You totally are.”

“I am not.”

“Y/N!”

“Fine! I might be!”

“Why? What happened? Spill!”

“Our conversation may have been overheard.”

“Oh no! By whom?! Not Stefan, right? I would die.”

You bite your lip, “nope, Kol.”

“Mikaelson?!” You nod, and her eyes go wide. “What did he say?!”

“Invited me out on a date,” you try to not squeal in excitement, “tomorrow at seven.”

“And you’re going?!”

“Of course. I did say I’d sleep with him, right?”

“Oh my god, is he the secret crush you have that you wouldn’t tell me about earlier?”

“Quite possibly.”

“Y/N!”

“I can’t help it, he’s hot!”

“He’s going to eat you alive.”

“Not if I eat him first,” you say, wetting your lips. 

“Oh my god, girl, you’re crazy!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out for your guy to set you up,” you snicker, “then we can both date our secret crushes, and sleep with them with minimal shots taken.”

“I do not have a crush on Stefan.”

“I didn’t say Stefan.”

She pales, knowing she’s caught. “You’re so bad!”

“Bad? Or going after what I want? Come on, Care, join the dark side. You know you want to.”

“Mmmmm… you better tell me how that date goes tomorrow.”

“Oh I will.”

“Now,” she puts on a fake serious face, “how many shots to sleep with Damon, if he wasn’t a dick?”

You snort, “I don’t care how less dickish he is. If I already have Kol, I don’t want anyone else.”