#write my exam for me

[onlineexamhelpers-tutor]

[essaywritinghelp]

[learnandturn]

I, a student actively protesting against investment in Israel, called my grandmother yesterday. I offhandedly mentioned that I was still bruised from my run in with the cops. She was appalled. She asked me “why on earth would you be protesting?!”. I, somewhat surprised, she knows I care about left wing political causes and like, human life, told her I was protesting because I believed in the cause. She then asked me “you believe in the cause of getting rid of Jews?!?”

Of course not. I told her that I was protesting against genocide and that many of the people protesting beside me were Jewish. That our encampment held a Seder led by Jewish students followed by Maghrib (evening prayers) for Muslim students. She was so surprised. She told me to be safe and to call my mom if I got arrested.

These right wing fake news rabbit holes are so easy to fall down and get stuck in. To the extent that this very smart woman genuinely thought I was protesting to get rid of Jewish people rather than against genocide.

Good luck out there folks. Keep pushing, keep supporting Palestinians and protestors in any way you can. Call your grandma.

Free Palestine!

[leaf-line]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐬 𝐀 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

Yandere! Dr Ratio x Gn! Reader

❏ You and Dr Ratio bakes cake after your milestone! All harmless, absolutely nothing bad will happen!

cw: invasion of privacy, implied isolation, people pleaser reader, mentions of insecurities and mental illnesses, suicide.

w/c: 2,856

"I'm starting to see your improvements." Ratio hums, sounding pleased, which is rare for him to do, but it's not impossible.

Contrary to his calm demeanor, you were emotional.

"That's all you could say!? This is big! This is a big deal!!" You cried out, snatching the papers—the fruits of your labor, the results of your hard, hard work—from Veritas.

Your heart was thumping so loudly. It was as if all your red blood cells received glucose simultaneously.

"I can't believe... I got high scores on all tests... All in a row..." You weep out of joy seeing all of them be above the number of 95. You could let your knees fall to the ground and start having a breakdown to release all the stress kept up in your years of living. "My life... Is fulfilled... Suffering... Is no more... Augh—" You state dramatically, Ratio could only scoff at your s-tier performance.

"It is a feat for a person like you. However, this is not the ending point for you to cry out of joy; there's always more to strive for and be better at. The room isn't that small. There's still more for improvement. However... You did great, I'm proud of you for that." He lectures as if to say 95 isn't enough and you need full scores, but honestly, you can't even be mad at him.

After all, he was the one who pushed you to achieve something such as this. If it weren't for him, you'd be nothing but a plain potato who didn't achieve anything meaningful.

A genius prodigy such as him could easily turn a useless stone like you into a shining diamond. You felt grateful.

"Ahaha..." You laugh ironically. "But thanks, it's all thanks to you, you should be proud." You wipe your tears eyes with a finger, then smile brightly at him.

He said nothing, and you grinned. Maybe it was because your smile was so contagious he was stunned, but then again, you don't know what's going on behind that mask of his. You could only see him turn his head away from you.

You wanted to know truly if he's fond of you or not.

Your tutor... No, rather, your friend Ratio was someone you never expected to get along with. Rather, you were extremely opposed to the idea, and perhaps, even was he.

Recalling back to that time, both of you first met... Wasn't exactly the best first impression...

"Welcome, Sir Veritas Ratio. Meet my child... [Name], please take care of them from now on. They might be a little... Uneducated, but I hope that you can help them with that." Your mother pushes your back towards him, in which you internally scowl in return.

You eyed him. He looked rather young to be your tutor.

"Ah, and I couldn't help but notice that both of you are the same age. If that is the case, then I hope that the both of you will get along well!" Your mother cheerfully says so.

You doubted that heavily.

That's because you did your research before meeting him in person.

A lot of people said that the prodigy was cruel, relentless, and maybe even sadistic. And the list goes on. The most positive and recurring mentioned trait of his was being academically talented.

As soon as your mother left you with him, you felt vulnerable, as if you were out in the open and someone was ready to stab you with words like knife, take for example; the person in front of you.

You try to pace down your heartbeat to not overthink it... It works.

It's fine, it's fine, he's a prodigy, surely he knows about the fact of how the human heart is delicate and needs to be handled carefully. What's the worst he could say to you out loud?

No matter what it is, you won't let it reach you!

"Hey... You." He calls out, you prepare yourself.

There's no way he's gonna be 'that' cruel to you... Right? You both just met.

"Have you taken a shower? You stink."

...

A part of you cracked.

"Let's move on quickly, I don't have time to deal with idiots such as you."

And it cracks again.

Yeah... It wasn't the best, but at least he doesn't say that anymore. In fact, it helped you that he said that, since you don't neglect hygienic activities as much anymore. But as Professor Veritas Ratio once said, 'Don't dwell in the past for long,' let's focus on the future and present!

Since this is a milestone for you, you should gift Dr Ratio with a thank you.

"I'm in no need of your services. This feat was only achieved through your hard work. You should treat only yourself." He said out of nowhere.

"Wait— H-How did you even—"

"Your face said it all."

"Huh???"

Dr Ratio seems to have a knack for using his hidden mind-reading powers on you. You don't like that. You'll always feel vulnerable to him every time at this point.

"Ah... Too bad... I was gonna make myself some homemade cake and share it with you... Too bad you don't want it. I guess I'll just stick to being lonely and take it all for myself." You puff out, obviously picking on him.

"Then let me help you, for all I could know, the house might be burned down before you can even bake one successfully." He replies back with no remorse.

"How rude!"

You end up baking at his home.

You simply didn't want the place to be yours since your mom is gonna be there saying you're wasting your time doing all this, so it's gonna be annoying.

And so you're there, stirring a bowl with a whisk, while there's Ratio holding out the instructions. You can't lie; he looks kinda cuter with that apron he's wearing if only his strange plaster sculpture weren't covering his appearance.

"You know... Veritas... You can remove that mask off. Since... Ya know? We're baking."

"Focus on the task at hand."

"Damn..."

You were silenced immediately, so you carefully put down the bowl, ——albeit with a trembling hand that made you feel pathetic——, to move over to the chopping board with the bowl of strawberries that you're gonna cut. You reach out for the knife

...If not for Dr Ratio intervening.

"Let me handle that." He says, practically shoving you away from the chopping board. He takes the knife and chops it with ease despite wearing that weird sculpture on his head. You wonder if he can see with that.

"Woah... Are you worried about me accidentally cutting myself?" Your eyes widen in surprise.

"I didn't know you actually cared for me, Professor Veritas... Hmmm, but I suppose you can't help it; after all, I'm the cutest and the best student ever had, aren't I?" You bat your eyelashes for the sake of sarcasm.

"Perhaps."

"...Eh?"

Too blunt, you feel your cheeks burning up.

You wonder if he's just playing along with your sarcasm because there is absolutely no way that's the case.

"I'm not playing around with your jokes. I'm simply laying out the possibility."

"There you go... Using your mind reading powers again..."

"It's not that hard to do if you have two eyes and a brain."

"I have a brain too... Not everyone can exactly know what a person is thinking just by looking at their face and expression."

"I doubt both of those statements."

"...Okay, rude."

"It's not about skills, actually; you're just an open book."

"Am I really??"

You hum, seeing him chop the strawberries more efficiently than you ever could. You know all well you'd cut it clumsily, then they'd end up looking like you've beaten them to mashes. You walk to the over to preheat it while he does his own thing. You gaze at the warm light.

"This cake is just for the two of us. I can't really share it with anyone else. If only I could, I would." You murmur your thoughts out loud, feeling close enough to him to tell him your issues occurring these days. You stand up to walk over next to him.

"...Why is that?"

"Everyone at the campus... Ignores me. I don't know why." You say, your expression showing one of disheartened, but you bothered to put up a smile. "I know, I know, I shouldn't be bothered with this minimalistic stuff." You chuckle.

"... Human life inevitably takes the form of a struggle against loneliness. We reach out to others in order to avoid sinking into complete isolation. However, although they might provide us with some degree of consolation and felt connection, our loneliness is something that can never be overcome. Therefore, you have the right to be bothered by it. Even if everyone on your campus notices you, you'll still end up feeling lonely."

"So... You're telling me my feelings don't matter even if I single myself out?"

"You have me, don't you?"

"Woah??"

"Don't go around putting random ideas in your head. It's just, if you ever feel like you're the only person existing in the universe, remember me." He placed down the knife to lightly pat your head.

"..." It was as if you remember something foul, you feel your smile fading for a bit. "You know, I wondered if people avoid because they think I'm annoying. Do you find me annoying too Dr Ratio?" You humor a question.

"I'd be lying if I said not entirely."

"And here I thought you were trying to comfort me." You laugh, taking the strawberries he chopped and mixed it with the other ingredients. You think carefully on what you're about to say next.

"There was this one guy named [____], he thinks I'm annoying but... We... 'Talked' everyday, but one day he just suddenly killed himself." You wonder if you were the reason, though it's too far fetched, you still felt guilty.

"...i see, but you shouldn't blame yourself. It's not your fault, he must've had his own problems." He says... For some reason, you felt like he sounded awfully guilty too.

"...You're right."

You glance back at your baking progress only to see that it's already prepared for the oven. "Oh... It seems like we were taking too much I didn't even realize."

"Focus. Place that in the oven for 40 minutes." He orders, you nod and follow obediently.

As that was done, you breathe out a sigh. "Where's your bathroom?" You ask.

"Go to that hallway, you'll find it eventually."

You didn't bother to ask more and marched straight into it.

Whilst walking, you find... His room, no, it might be an office knowing who he is.

Your curiosity lead to dumb decisions such as this one, so you open the door which was surprisingly open. The room felt fancy and professional, you felt like you were a dirt intruding inside a perfectly clean place.

The walls were decorated with a bunch of awards, eight doctoral degrees, outstanding achievements in the fields of biology, medicine, natural theology, philosophy, mathematics, physics, and engineering— ah, you felt dizzy.

"Uwah..." You felt jealous, though it must've been stressful and uneasy to achieve all this. You send a regard in your mind for him, hoping that he didn't stress all this too much.

You wonder why you were even next to him, how could you even stand next to someone such as him, it felt like something out of fantasy, only someone with the same level as him should he be talking to. You were a simpleton compared to him.

Being in character of a simpleton, a stupid, brainless simpleton, you dig more on his room, to that resulted of you seeing a notebook placed on a desk. "Looks important... Is this his diary or something?"

Despite saying that, you still flipped the notebook into a page, reading it...

[Name] [Last Name]

Home Planet: Cosmos

Gender: [______]

Species: Human

Height: [______]

Weight: [______]

Address: [______]

Social Security Number: [______]

Birthdate: [______]

Collage Campus: [______]

Degree: [______]

Average Grade: 57% —> 96%

Biological Parents:

Mother: [______] - Occupation: The IPC Strategic Investment Department

Father: [______] - Deceased

Huh? Isn't this your... Private information... Why... Is it in his handwriting...? Your hand reluctantly flips to the next page.

[Name] [Last Name]'s history with their mother isn't difficult to understand, they're not fond of their mother for the sole reason of abandonment and high expectations, their mother does not have the time to raise a child for she is busy working for the IPC. However, she holds high expectations for [Name] despite not teaching them and leaving them to fend for their own without help, naturally, [Name], without tools, [Name] learned nothing and struggled to understand the materials exposed to them. With no choice left, their mother found a teacher that will help them raise up to her expectations.

I do not understand why she chose me out of everyone, perhaps because of the same age we have, but unlike them, my standards were advanced, choosing me will only cause [Name] to struggle more, I feel bad, so I set my teachings to them to be more tame and easy to understand, but difficult enough for them to improve even slightly, but to my utter surprise, they followed along with it. Not to say that they didn't struggle, in fact, they struggled greatly, but despite that, they pursued the materials. Despite their many flaws, they strive for the betterment of themselves.

Struggles and insecurities, they suffer from anxiety and depression, for one, they struggle to be hygienic and procrastinate, they prefer to relax and wallow on their own self pity rather than choose to study, they have a rather low view of themselves and low confidence, dead honest about thinking that they're a hopeless idiot, however they cover the fact that they think of that by joking around and putting up a false confidence to everyone. They care about the well-being of other people more than themselves. On the other hand, they feel the fear from failure, evident by how their hand trembles whenever they feel like—

Enough. You felt cold sweat dripping on you face. That's... Too much, he isn't supposed to know all this. It's you personal thing. How did he even...

You don't why, you really don't know why you still haven't left the notebook alone and left the room, you don't know why you still flipped to the next page.

Spreading rumors about them weren't difficult, as it seems like all those people are easily swayed by simple words, however, through that action, [Name] regretfully became a target of bad intent. Through pros and cons, I conclude that it was worth it, the sight of [Name] relying on me is ever so priceless.

[____], a wretch, a classmate of [Name], bullying [Name] over his own insecurities, rather than taking it out on something else, he takes out his pent up stress on other people, [Name] being the victim. [Name] seems to have noticed this, so rather than telling people of fighting back, they endured it, telling nobody about it (even me). I have a speculation that they simply endured it with a naive thought of helping that ignorant wretch.

He appears to have a delicate ego and heart, as it turns out he was taking it out on [Name] simply because he admired me and thinking that it should be him that I should be teaching rather than [Name]. As said, he had a delicate ego and a delicate heart, so it wasn't difficult to shatter it into pieces. I admit, though immoral, I found his dismay satisfying, ignorant people like him deserved to jump off that building—

You head snapped to the door and you felt a chilling sensation on your spine.

No longer wearing his mask, his head leaned onto the doorframe.

You drop the note book on the floor, seeing as pictures of you that were stuck on that note book to fly and scatter on the ground.

"Had fun reading? Were even in terms of privacy, did I ever tell you that you can meddle with my notes?" He questioned, his face showed no emotion.

"...Why— Why would y-you—?" You felt tears invade your vision, you heart being constricted.

"I take it were gonna have a long conversation later? No, actually..." He says, getting closer to you, you instinctively take the same steps back.

He gets closer and closer until your back is facing the wall, he placed a hand to obscure your vision. Perhaps the reason he covers his face around you, is because he's just as an open book as you when he's around you, he can't have you seeing his overly infatuated expression, even after he was trying so hard to hide it.

"Let's settle this short, right here, right now, I'll tell you everything. We have 25 minutes left, can't have the cake burning in the oven for too long can we?"

a/n: fun fact! just in case you missed it, at the first part of this short story, dr ratio subconsciously turned his head away from you because he was flustered by your gratefulness for him, sorry if it sounded like a vent at some parts, idk what occurred to me 💀, maybe it's because dr ratio is ironically my comfort character, i hate people like him irl but...

[falling-skyzz]

been having many darkstalker & foeslayer thoughts recently

[chosai]

ROUGH DAY AT WORK ? LET ME HELP YOU ! — ZAYNE (黎深)

warning: this drabble contains smut (18+ content). minors do not interact!

© chosai — do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

your husband, zayne, isn't the most vocal when it comes to his emotions – if you don't, thoroughly, read him between the lines, it definitely would be a struggle for anyone since this man would not budge, keeping his mouth shut. undoubtedly, you worry for him; he works long hours – nearly sixty hours per week, nights and days, yet he refuses to catch a break. one thing's for certain, he's quite the stubborn workaholic.

you're busy cooking dinner; your nimble hands working on the meat and vegetables while you hum your favourite tune. you glance at the time on the microwave behind you, and you immediately quicken the pace on your chopping. in twenty minutes or so, you expect the front door to open; revealing your beloved husband outside the door – the next course of action being you spoiling him with food. after all, upon returning from a long shift at work, it's important to eat a filling meal.

"he's going to love this," you hum to yourself, sautéing the meat and vegetables together in the pan in contentment. the rice is finished cooking, and the main dish is nearly ready. your stomach is grumbling like crazy at the delicious scent. for the first time in a long time, you feel proud at yourself for cooking such an appetizing dish. you take a small lick from the spoon, and you close your eyes shut and squealed. best bet for the next couple of weeks, you'll be cooking this for dinner.

the door opens suddenly, and steps in your husband clad in his usual dress shirt paired with his trousers. you take a peek from the kitchen, and you excitement took over you.

“welcome home, honey!” you greet zayne warmly, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. once you pull away, you manage to fully inspect your husband’s face; there’s fatigue evident in his hazel eyes and from the way his lips are pressed in a straight line, he doesn’t look too pleased. you rest your hand against his broad chest, leaning closer to him.

“what’s the matter my love? you look tired and upset.” you question him, caressing your hand against his cheek. “i also finished making dinner, we can talk more while we eat dinner if you want!”

before you’re able to pull away, his strong hands stop you; gripping at your waist as he pulls you closer. his thumb rubbing light circles against the thin fabric of your shirt; his face nuzzling into the comfort of your neck.

“i want to stay close to you like this,” he breathes, his voice slightly muffled. you rest your head against his chest.

“work’s been rougher than usual,” he then adds, and he breathes in your scent. “ah, but just touching you makes me feel better.”

“you’re so cute, zayne.” you coo, before leaning in closer to his face. you press a soft peck against his lips, giggling softly. however, you’re caught off guard when he leans in for a second kiss — this time, though, is plenty more heated; while his one hand rested on your hips, his other hand rests on the back of your head to pull you closer. soft, muffled moans fall past your lips, your legs trembling as your arousal steadily grows. a thin string of saliva connects both your lips as you pull away; soft pants leaves your lips as you stare at each other in arduous desperation.

“z-zayne,” you mutter his name bashfully, completely dazed from his overhasty movements. it isn’t as if you minded, though. through your heavy lidded gaze, you can also make out the delectable sight of your husband sharing the same need as you; his mouth slightly agape, his ears slightly flushed a bright incarnadine, and his bedroom eyes — dinner will have to wait. in this moment, you yearn to spoil him by other means.

through heavy and heated kisses, you both find yourselves on the comfort of the sofa; your hips straddling his lap as your lips immediately finds his neck, trailing a line of kisses down the soft skin. his large hands finds its way to your ass, giving the plush a tight squeeze as he grinds you against his aching erection. you moan against his neck, feeling your body twitch beneath his grasp.

aroused is truly an understatement.

“h-honey,” you say in between shaky breaths, “i wanna spoil you today.”

zayne’s hands then travel up your shirt, removing the soft fabric with ease; the cool air immediately hits your skin, and you shiver slightly. your husband licks his lips, savouring the sight of your pretty breasts before him.

without passing another second, your husband latches his mouth onto your soft mound. “you already are, my love.” says your husband, his voice muffled as he twirls his tongue against the hardened bud.

your body shrivels underneath his touch, yearning to get closer to him. soft moans of his name falls from your lips as your hands travel down to his trousers, unbuckling his exorbitant belt and quickly unzipping his trousers which then reveals his grey boxers with a moist spot at the tip.

fuck, you can feel your mouth watering at the sight. just how long has it been since you last had a taste of his dick? with gentle fingers threading through your husband’s raven locks, you pull him away from your breasts — and you squeeze your legs even tightly; he looks so drunk in your touch, his gaze clouded in desire. before zayne can process anything further, he immediately finds you perched in between his legs; your hands going straight in for the hem of his trousers and boxers, attempting to pull them down in one go as if you’re famished.

his erect girth springs out of his boxers and nearly smacks your face. you smile, tracing a finger along his twitching length. enamored, you lick a strip along his cock — not breaking eye contact with your now flustered husband.

“you had a rough day at work, no?” with languid strokes, you ask the question with feigned innocence, leaning your head against his herculean thighs. “let me help you~”

that being said, you take him all the way in your mouth; relishing the way zayne’s breath hitched out a moan as you ignore the tiny tears that threaten to roll down your flushed cheeks. his hand that rests atop your hand trembles, his fingers softly digging into your scalp as he thrusts his hips higher — urging you to take him deeper. you bite back a gag as you try your damnedest to breathe through your nose.

“hah, fuck.” your husband hisses through his teeth, throwing his head back as a hoarse groan falls from his lip, and you moan softly in response albeit his girthy cock is still inches down your throat. “you’re taking me so good, m’love.”

you hum in response through your blurred gaze, your cheeks coated in tears as you continue to please him; one hand resting at his hips, while the other trails south, the tip of your fingers circling around your swollen clit. you can’t help it. given how alluring your husband can be, it is nearly impossible to not pounce on him. your subtle self-pleasure doesn’t go unnoticed by zayne, however.

his hands find stability in your scalp once again, and he holds on to it tight before he begins to thrust into your mouth frantically. the sleek noises of your mouth making love to his dick resonates athwart the living room, paired with some occasional choking from the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat — but zayne loves every single noise that leaves your mouth, even more the lewd expressions plastered across your face as you’re eager to please him.

“fuck, y/n. your mouth feels so fucking good around me. you’re such a good girl for spoiling me — hah. you’re going to make me cum soon.” a string of breathy praises leaves his lips, the pace of his hips thrusting relentlessly begins to stagger the closer he gets to his release.

you pull back slightly and suck on his tip, circling your tongue around the little hole. you stare at your husband, your eyes blown back in lust. from zayne’s point of view, you’re practically staring at him with hearts formed in your eyes. his eye twitches and a hoarse groan slips past his lips, his hands gripping onto your scalp firmly yet softly as he spurts his seed into your mouth.

as you draw back from his cock, you open your mouth — revealing the large amounts of his cum resting on your tongue before swallowing it all. zayne caresses your face gently with his long fingers, giving you praises for taking him so well with your mouth.

“did… did that help?” you ask him cutely, your shoulders rising and dropping as you attempt to catch your breath.

“yes,” zayne says, his hands slowly snaking around your hips. “however…”

a sharp gasp rips from your throat as your husband effortlessly positioned you onto the couch, your ass now facing his hardened cock. you stare back at the erect girth in shock — a minute hasn’t even passed and he’s already..? all thoughts that linger in your head dissipates the moment you feel his long and thick fingers tracing along the lines of your drenched folds; such minimal movements of his index finger elicits the lewdest noises coming from your heat. he savours the sight of you; your flushed face looking back at him as your ass is high up in the air for him to see the arousal drooling from your cunt.

“my wife is so so beautiful,” zayne comments sweetly before sticking two fingers inside, your slick walls immediately welcoming his digits in a tight embrace. you arch your back, raising your ass higher as you beg for more friction. you can never grow tired of the feeling of being filled. he pulls his fingers out and licks your love juices.

“i hope you don’t mind, but i’m still not done with you spoiling me.” says zayne, pressing a kiss on the back of your head as he aligns the tip of his cock to your sopping entrance. “you can still take me. right, honey?”

you nod your head frantically, trying to push your hips back to meet his. “mmm, fuck. please, baby. i wan’ you to fuck me so bad—”

a loud moan rips from your throat when his cock slides easily inside your folds, the tip already kissing your cervix. you arch your back and curl your toes, and your face is stuffed into the soft cushions of the couch — completely submitting into being used as a cock sleeve for your husband, who in turn, is fucking into your hole like a madman. he stuffs his face into the nape of your neck, his breaths heavy as he ruts his hips into yours.

“ah! mmm — shit, you’re fucking me so good.” you mewl a praise, though your voice is muffled from the pillow you stuffed your face in as he only fucks you with a newfound vigour; his nails digging into your hips, his groans vibrating against your skin merely adds more fuel to the fire — your release slowly reaching its peak.

the more he fucks into you, the more your body trembles beneath his touch. with each thrust he made, a moan rips from your throat as he makes it his sole mission to get you to come hard. especially in a position such as this, each thrust of his hips lands a hit on your sweet spot; your walls squeezing tightly onto his girth as he did.

he grabs both your hands and holds them behind your back with his one hand, raising your body higher from the cushions.

“don’t hide your moans from me,” he demands, thrusting his hips into yours deeply. you cry out in response, your body twitching against his as you’re nearing your orgasm.

“i-i’m coming,” you announce, your voice tottering as the pressure in your abdomen erupts and your body trembles. zayne lets out a low moan, closing his eyes tightly to relish the sensations of your walls clamping tightly around him, attempting to milk him dry of his cum.

heavy breaths filled the warm air surrounding your living room; small beads of sweat rolling down your bodies as you both try to catch your breaths.

“thank you, my love. you always treat your husband so well.” zayne says sweetly, peppering kisses all over your face and you giggle softly. though, you’re a little muddled when he starts to get up from the couch; his hand reaching out towards the piles of clothes scattered across the floor. “let’s go shower before we eat dinner.”

you reach out for his hand, and he looks back at you with a questioning look. excitement flickers in your eyes, the thrill overtaking your veins suddenly controls your consciousness. you lay back down on the couch, giving your husband the most seductive look you can muster and spread your lips. his gaze follows your hands, and he gulps softly; his eyes locked onto your swollen and dripping cunt.

“you didn’t cum again,” you say, your voice soft yet there is mischief laced in it. “i don’t mind if we go another round.”

sora's note: 😳

[iceman-soup]

amab reader x bot!soap

Though it's technically unspoken, the whole base knows that rottweiler!hybrid!Soap is yours. Sure, he should be Price's - he's the captain, of course. Or even Ghost's; why wouldn't he be, they're so close after all?

But it's you that he follows around all day, at your heels without even being instructed to do so. His tail whacking against your legs as it wags almost constantly, only speeding up when you pet or kiss him every so often.

On breaks, it's always you who he curls up on the sofa next to, head on your thigh as you scratch your fingers through his hair. His eyes either closed in bliss or looking adoringly up at you, ears pricking up whenever you speak.

Sitting with you in your office, whining when you tease him for wanting to crawl up onto your lap as you work. He just won't listen to "you're not a lapdog, honey," and climbs up onto you anyway, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, soft ears ticking your cheek, not moving even when someone comes in to talk to you.

Making sure everyone can hear him yap your name from your room when you're pounding into him, holding his tail out of the way with one hand and the other firmly between his shoulder blades, steadying you as you lean down to mutter praises to him, your pace not slowing even as he whimpers and cums.

Watching as he limps a little the next day, your eye being the one he catches if someone asks him if he's alright. Not being able to hide your smirk when he winces upon sitting down, his tail wagging a little even so when he sees you staring.

[hatekawa]

I'M ALIVE

[aquaquadrant]

Title: flickering

Warnings: Hearing voices similar to intrusive thoughts (the voices are from sentient fire, not from the character’s own mind), pyromania, session 3 spoilers

~*~

Tango might be hearing things.

That is, beyond what the rest of his friends have already been joking about this entire session. The secret task bestowed upon him seemed like pure hilarity at first: pretend to have an imaginary friend. And he had to go all out, too, having imaginary conversations in the presence of other people. He wasn’t confident enough in his improv skills to pull it off without some kind of prop, though, so he’d assigned the role of imaginary friend to a torch in his inventory.

Torchy, a new best friend for the resident blaze hybrid on the server. Hilarious.

Except, as the hours went on… carrying Torchy around and randomly placing it down… hosting one-sided conversations with a piece of burning wood while his friends watched on with baffled amusement… it started to get a little less hilarious. Because he started to imagine that he could actually hear Torchy talking back to him.

Looks bad. Burn it. Kill him.

Just pleasant little things like that. It made for great conversation fodder; nothing turned heads on this server faster than a randomly overheard, “No, no, we can’t kill him!” And it was funny to carry on that kind of dialogue, chastising a flaming stick for its apparent bloodlust. The looks on his friends’ faces were priceless.

But at the end of the session, after Tango had been found out and failed his task, after everyone bid their farewells and went their separate ways to end the session… he hears it again; a flickering whisper of a voice in his ears.

Burn it.

It startles Tango so badly, his blaze rods ignite. “Aaagh- who? What?!” He spins around, flames spitting.

“Huh?” Skizz pokes his head up from behind their little clump of chests, his wing flared out in surprise. “What happened?”

Tango clutches his pounding heart. “Did you- did you say something, Skizz?” he asks breathlessly.

“What, just now? No?” Skizz frowns, then his eyes widen. “Oh, wait, I get it…” He chuckles. “Very funny dude, but uh, you can drop the ‘imaginary friend’ thing now.”

Burn him. Kill him.

There it is again. “No, I’m not…” Tango hesitates, glancing around warily. “You seriously can’t hear that?”

Join us. Burn it. Eat it all.

Now Skizz looks a little concerned, rising to his feet. “Uh- no? What?” He takes a few steps towards Tango, holding out a hand. “You okay, buddy?”

Tango rakes his claws through his hair. “Th- the whispering, the…” Swallowing, he creeps a bit closer to Skizz- and as he does so, he happens to move closer to a random torch. The voice gets louder.

Free us. Join us. Let it all burn.

There’s a chunk of solid ice in Tango’s stomach. “I think it’s coming from the torches,” he whispers.

Skizz stares at him for a moment before he sighs bemusedly, shaking his head. “Oh, brother. You’ve been talking to yourself all session, dude, I think you’re starting to hear things.” He claps a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “Get some rest, buddy, and I’ll see you back here next week, alright?”

Skizz doesn’t hear it. Tango makes himself laugh. “Right, yeah. You’re right. See ya.”

With a parting smile, Skizz logs off.

Tango waits. Soon enough, the voice returns. The whispering is now a chant, a dull roar echoing in his skull.

He’s gone. Burn it. Burn it all. Sets us free, let us spread. Join us. Burn it. Eat it all.

Tango’s heart is in his throat. He can see it, in his mind’s eye; the soft pink cherry blossoms engulfed in flame, a ring of smoke outlining the entire island… his inner fire thrums with want, with need.

Yes, yes, burn it all…

The smell of burning snaps him out of his trance. His clawed fingertips are pinching a cherry blossom from a low-hanging branch, a trail of smoke rising between them. Wait, when did he walk over to the tree? Quickly plucking the flower, he incinerates it in his clenched fist, the flame extinguished as soon as it’d ignited.

And now he’s got a handful of ash. Great.

Okay, that’s it- he’s gotta get off this crazy server. It’s all these stupid tasks! They’re totally messing with his head. The secrecy, the deception, the mind games- he just needs a break. He needs to go back to something familiar, some place where things make sense.

Tapping his communicator, he brings up a portal.

Tango steps through it into Hermitcraft, into blue flames and his dungeon master’s robes. He blinks, acclimating to the change of light. He’s in the underbelly of Decked Out 2, of course- most of his time this week has been spent working on the redstone for level four. And over the months, he’s taken care to light everything up (because a single creeper in the skadoodler could derail his entire operation here) so there are torches everywhere…

And he hears nothing.

Just the idle sounds of the dungeon above him. The occasional warden sniff or ravager growl, bats squeaking in the dark. A slime slapping against stone somewhere in the distance. He can even hear the ambient flickering of the countless torches around him, but no freaky voices accompany it.

Tango exhales heavily. It was just the Secret Life server messing with his head, after all. Relieved, he ignites a rocket to take off, whirling through the air in the tight hair-pin turns required to escape from the dungeon’s inner workings. He swoops into his storage room and dives into the bubble-vator, arriving swiftly back in the citadel.

Hopping off the platform and into the air, Tango glides toward his private entrance to the lobby. He needs to go cover up the barrel at the start so he can make a couple changes to the dungeon. Nothing major, maybe just an extra warden or two. Ideas for names are already flashing through his mind. Debating whether to go intimidating or silly, he’s so deep in thought as he passes through the lobby that he almost doesn’t notice it at first. But as he walks past the soul flames, he hears it.

The flicker of a familiar voice- though more haunting, now, almost mournful- whispering in his ears.

Join us. Burn them. Eat them all.

~*~

[moonsvillain]

have been toying with the idea of an au wherein shen jiu, after burning down the qiu household and running away, comes across xie lian rather than wu yanzi poaching him immediately afterwards:

i'd imagine in this verse he runs away to town rather than immediately being found in the aftermath of what he's done. at this point, shen jiu would be too paranoid to consider reaching out for directions to cang qiong mountain even if he wanted to make it there: what if they knew what he did? or figured it out if he did know? (if he even had the mind to think of these things through his panic)

he doesn't want to end up begging on the streets again, though—too alike his childhood and last time he was in that position, shen jiu ended up with the qius in the first place

so he takes refuge in temples that he comes across, stealing food when he can before moving to a different part of the rather large town he's ended up in so there's no clear pattern of when he shows up at whichever food stall

despite not holding that same respect and unwavering belief in gods (how could he, after everything he's gone through? shouldn't they have stepped in, sometime? what god would let him suffer as he did, separating him from the only person he loved?) he knows better than to try them, and begrudgingly thanks them for the shelter (because this he did appreciate, at the very least, if nothing else)

winter hits hard when it does, and shen jiu, after spending so many years in the qiu household, forgot how the cold seeps into your skin and bones without solid walls to keep out the frigid breeze.

he quickly falls ill with nothing to protect him from the elements but his threadbare clothing, and when he grows ill, he becomes slow. shen jiu nearly gets caught stealing, running away before he can be dragged to a town guard for his offence, but earning himself a nasty wound to his leg as he retreated

sickness + the cold + the wound leave him weak and wanting: missing qi-ge, reminiscing on nights where they'd curl up together for warmth, still cold but not alone, the two of them steady against the storm that raged on ahead of them

fever-ridden and teetering close to death, shen jiu wanders into a temple late at night and sinks to his knees, falling to his side, heart-rate slowing. in his delirium, he misses the figure taking shelter from the storm in the corner, watching him

shen jiu wakes up (he doesn't expect to), warm while he hears the wind whistle. he's still in that temple from earlier, but it's considerably... cozier. a small fire warms the inside and his clothes aren't as damp against his cold skin. his fever's broken, too—he doesn't know how long it's been, but he's glad he didn't die: never realized that he wanted to live until he was close to forfeiting his right to

here is where he meets his accidental saviour: xie lian stood over a slowly bubbling pot of stew that smells heavenly to shen jiu—he'd eat just about anything at this point, starved

his immediate distrust of xie lian stops him from being truly excited about his appearance

their relationship is veryyy shaky at the very beginning: shen jiu refuses to trust him and xie lian refuses to abandon this strange child he found on the verge of death

(there's a strange sort of bond built up when you nurse someone back to life, dragging them away from the brink of death and xie lian isn't interested, but he's curious about this kid who stumbled into his temple at the dead of night on a midnight in winter)

shen jiu's torn between distrust and this desire for company he didn't know he possessed; after being alone with no one but the qiu household [before he went on his massacre] he didn't realized how much he wanted to share space with someone who wasn't actively hurting him until he was afforded the opportunity to experience non-violent company with xie lian

his distrust slowly declines when he finds out that xie lian is a cultivator. despite being arguably too old to learn cultivation to the fullest extent he could have if he started a few years earlier, he still desperately wants to learn

xie lian, perceptive as ever, slowly starts teaching him bits and pieces of the basics, teaches him to meditate, takes care to keep his distance when it looks like shen jiu's getting overwhelmed

shen jiu can't help but get attached. he hates it

shen jiu decides to test xie lian before resigning himself to this

he was snappy, impatient, and argued with xie lian, when he came over, one day, waiting for some form of punishment to come, bristling like a spooked cat.

nothing came of his experiment but a slight frown from xie lian, which made shen jiu feel almost bad—xie lian almost reminded him of qi-ge, which made him feel doubly bad because he desperately wants to find him

shen jiu came to xie lian the next day with a pastry [that he stole] as an apology. and a request:

"teach me how to cultivate so i can be a disciple at the cang qiong sect"

xie lian agrees easily enough: he's been around shen jiu to see that despite the late start, he has potential to be great [especially untouched by wu yanzi and his twisted form of cultivation]

shen jiu throws himself into his studies, working himself to the bone

xie lian is concerned by this and after trying to soften the load of his work doesn't make shen jiu slow down, he becomes stern: warns him against trying to chase too much frivolously

this leads to a breakdown of sorts—where shen jiu gets angry, dismissive, before becoming upset. the average emotional depth of a teenager but, like, 4 times worse because of the circumstances

xie lian coaxes the story out of shen jiu here; qi-ge [the first time he's mentioned aloud by name], the qiu household [only the barest of details. shen jiu refuses to dwell], and the night shen jiu made qi-ge leave, as well as qi-ge's promise to come back

shen jiu finishes by telling xie lian he needs to make it back to qi-ge, needs to see if he's still alive, he's been selfish for sticking around as long

shen jiu tells xie lian that he needs to figure out as much as he can, as fast as he can, so he can leave and make his way to cang qiong mountain with some sort of base knowledge to make it in. and that he's not sorry for pushing himself because he doesn't have time

xie lian is quiet for a while

puts a comforting hand on shen jiu's shoulder and tells him he understands; he knows someone who would do anything to make it back to the one they loved, understands the pain that comes when time and distance separates the two

however, xie lian tells him, he can't let shen jiu push himself. he'll only stunt his progress by hurting himself rather than speed things up

shen jiu is ready to argue again before xie lian offers to make the trip with him

shen jiu doesn't believe it at first—who would bother with helping him for this long if they weren't getting anything out of it? he already found this hard to believe, let alone the fact that xie lian would drop everything to travel with him for weeks on end

xie lian doesn't shake in his resolve, though. shen jiu figures out he's being serious and wants to argue, but he's just—relieved

so many people have stood as roadblocks on his path back to qi-ge; xie lian might be the first person actively trying to help them

it almost reignites hope in him; someone other than him believes in them. someone other than shen jiu thinks they'll make it back to each other and succeed in reuniting. xie lian's faith in him is like a gust of wind beneath his wings

he agrees to their road trip

[xie lian makes sure to tell his beloved he'll be away for a while]

[shen jiu doesn't notice that xie lian buys steamed buns off the same stranger in nearly every town they stop by for a night of rest in the following few weeks]

[xie lian notices, years later, when shen qingqiu doesn't recognize him upon their first meeting in decades. shen yuan doesn't know xie lian, but xie lian knows this isn't shen jiu, anymore]

[eastbluecrewed]

THE LOVERS

so ummmmmm wano arc am i right. crazy. killer's fight w basil had me genuinely on the floor i was abt to start chewing my fingers off like a wild animal

[einsatzzz]

H.K. & H.K. 🥹💖✨ khr x sanrio collab will always live rent-free inside my brain

[yaekiss]

𝑴𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒚

꩜ Room Content: Dom! Top! Reader x Sub! Bottom! Ayato, no gendered terms for reader, reader has a cock, gratuitous mention of spit, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: First post! Had Ayato on the mind and couldn't study so I wrote this instead of writing my exam notes LMFAO 💀 SHOUT OUT 2 @eugenarayy FOR BEING MY HYPEMAN

Ayato loves loves loves the mess the both of you make after one of your more than savoury sessions.

After all, he's been stuck in his office all day, his high collared undershirt choking him (and hiding the pretty marks you left on his neck, though, if the elders knew, he'll never hear the end of it). His work surroundings are pristine. Thoma does his job impeccably well and there's never a speck of dust to be found anywhere. All the stationary poised neatly on his table. There is nothing out of place. Everything is too pristine, too sterile. Something, everything is expected of Kamisato Ayato. He feels the pressure of his entire commission weighing down on him when he sits in his office, silently busying himself with flipping through mountains of paperwork. 

Although he should really be focusing on his work, memories from your last session together with him flood his system with arousal, his mind's eye replaying each and every single intimate detail he can remember (albeit not that many since he got so fucked out towards the end!) Pale lavender eyes flutter shut as he recalls the burning grip you had on his thighs, manhandling him as you saw fit, blunt fingernails digging into the supple flesh of his plush ass. A shudder travels its way down his spine and he bites his lip to prevent any noise from escaping (he might be a whore but he still has a reputation to uphold mind you!) He squirms in his seat, pants suddenly uncomfortably tight and all the layers he’s wearing become extra stuffy. Hands shaky with desire, he sheds his outer coat, folding it expertly by his side but this does nothing to quell the rising heat in him. Ayato is utterly intoxicated by you. 

He loves that he doesn't have to be the ever-competent Kamisato Ayato with you, all he has to do is lay back and just let you pound his brains out until the only thing he can blabber by the end of the night is your name ♡

By the end of his day, he's been away from you for too long :( He missed you so much :(( Won't you indulge him tonight? :(((

He bursts through the door to your shared room, catching you off guard. Making sure that the door is locked, he immediately makes a beeline straight towards you, wasting no time as he pounces on you. The second he makes contact with you, he’s pressing every inch of himself into you, nothing but urgent craving in the way he smashes his plump lips against yours, opened mouth kisses leaving a string of drool when he finally (begrudgingly) separates from you to catch his breath. You’re pulled to the bed by the needy brat and he scrambles to straddle your thigh, grinding down with renewed fervour when he catches the hungry glint in your eyes.

“Please take- ah! -care of mmmm! -me tonight!” Ayato gasps out as he uselessly ruts his clothed cock against your thigh, hands on either side of him to keep his body upright or else he would've collapsed onto you long ago. 

"At least someone still has enough manners to say 'please'," you tease, eyeing the delicious desperation consuming your boyfriend. You can feel the stickiness seeping through his pants as he oozes precum and his breath hitches. 

"D-don't tease!" Ayato tries to demand, ever the brat that he is, trying to regain some control over the situation, but he fails ultimately when it comes out as more of an adorable whine.

Not long after, the both of you have stripped down to nothing, with your cock snug in his supple ass. 

“Haa… No matter h- hnng! -how many times I t-take you, I always f- fuuuuck! -forget how big you are ahnnn! ♡” Ayato moans out loud shamelessly, his familiar everyday intellect reduced to nothing but mush once you bottom out in him. He pants heavily as he adjusts to your size, his hands clasped behind your shoulders, while yours grip his hips like a vice, just the way he likes it. He wiggles his hips with a satisfied dazed look on his face and you hiss as his walls clench down on your length.

Press your tongue flat on the mole on his chin and unceremoniously lave your way down to his collarbones. The lingering warmth in your breath sears against his cheeks and he can barely hold himself back from panting, his own mouth falling open and tongue lolling out. Suckle some hickies just below his collarline, a depraved canvas of reds and purples blossoming across his neck and collarbones. The insatiable way you bite and teeth a path along his jugular, leaving a trail of your spit as you have your way with him, riles him up more than he'd like to admit. When you reach his pretty cherry pink nipples, pay them extra attention, they’re super sensitive and your whore loves it when you swirl your tongue around them, making them glossy with your saliva! Tweak and pinch them to make him let out the cutest high-pitched squeaks and feel his ass clamp down pleasurably on your cock fully sheathed in him. By the time you’re done with his chest, teeth marks and lovebites litter the milky expanse of his upper half. Ayato’s cock jumps at the way pride shines in your eyes while you take in your handiwork.

Pound into him without abandon and watch him struggle to catch his breath with how deep you’re reaching in him. Watch his ass jiggle with each wet sinful squelch that echoes throughout the room as you rhythmically pull out and sink back into his warmth. Ayato chokes on air when your cockhead brushes past his prostate, hips jerking downwards to take more of you in, the burn of your cock stretching his hole out further sending him straight to heaven. When you slide your fingers into his mouth, Ayato doesn’t hesitate to coat your fingers in his spit, skilled tongue licking over every inch of your digits, subsequently getting drool all over his chin. With a mouth that spews nothing but shrewd sweet talk all day, it’s no wonder he has an oral fixation.

"Aww look at yourself, tongue out and panting, like my bitch in heat." Even through his sex-addled brain, he catches the subtle possessiveness in your tone. Devotion overwhelms his mind and he keens lewdly, cock twitching and hips jutting up harshly.

"Ah, ah, hnnn… I'm- ah! -all yours! Puh- Please I’m sssss-so close oogh!!" Ayato cries out obscenely. Taking pity on him (your poor boyfriend worked hard today), you angle your next few thrusts so that your cock bumps up directly against his prostate. His eyes roll back with frenzied bliss as he cums with a pornographic moan, head thrown back in ecstasy and you’re acutely aware of his blunt fingernails raking down your back. White splashes across his pale tummy and drips down onto your thighs, making the mess that he so craves. You finish with Ayato, spilling your load in him and he screams at the blinding heat filling him up. His legs loop around your hips and trap you, not allowing you to pull away from him, burying you further, deeper into him. You feel him nuzzling into the crook of your neck, heated breaths fanning across your bare skin as he tries to steady his racing heart rate.

“Such a whore Ayato, you came untouched!” You laugh at him even though you doubt he even understands what you just said given his obviously fucked out state. Head dizzy with euphoric pleasure, he giggles dumbly, tongue hanging out as he pulls you down for more open mouthed kisses. He peers up at you through wet lashes, eyes swirling with pure lust and aphrodisia.

He looks so wrecked. His unkempt hair sticking to his forehead and spread out around him like a halo, lilac eyes shining with tears, sticky spit all over his chest. When Ayato finally lets you pull out, he whimpers at the loss of your warmth. His fingers attempt to push your cum leaking out of his ass back in but all he’s really doing is pathetically smearing it all over his inner thighs and ass, making an even bigger mess of things :(

Why not take a photo of him when you’re done so he can remember better this time? ♡

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[harfanfare]

Unique Kisses: Rollo, Che'nya, Neige

Heartslabyul || Savanaclaw || Octavinelle || Scarabia || Pomefiore || Ignihyde || Diasomnia || Rollo, Che'nya, Neige || Honest Fellow

Rollo F. (no kisses)

“May I have a kiss, please? A kind word? Any form of attention?”

“Rather not.” 

Rollo does not lift his gaze from his book. He sits too far away for you to read the title — you're separated by the whole length of the coffee table on which the service with the steaming tea stands — but you wouldn't be surprised if he was reading something religious.

You have no desire to return to the Victorian romance, a heavy volume that spreads across your lap. Yet, there are twenty-five minutes left until the end of your reading hour, a meeting you arrange every day because books are cool. You feel like you will die of boredom in three.

Maybe not from boredom, but because of something that makes you unable to focus on the present moment. You feel bad about tearing your lover away from his reading, but finally, with a heavy heart, you get up, walk around the table and sit next to him.

Your thighs touch and you let your head fall against Rollo's warm shoulder.

Immediately, you feel a little better.

“What are you doing?” Rollo doesn't seem to share your enthusiasm. He tilts his head so he can measure you with his eyes. If you looked at him even briefly, you would notice that his eyebrows have dropped slightly in an expression of concern, and his gaze has become investigative, piercing.

You sigh slightly in response, too listless to lift your eyelids, and unwittingly play with the soft tassels of his outfit.

“Please, let's do something else. The weather is so nice today...!” Your plea resembles the lament of a preschooler, especially when you bury your face in his shoulder. By that, some tension from Rollo escapes. He takes his eyes off you.

“I'd rather finish the book.”

“Then at least let me stay here, by your side. I feel extremely lonely today.”

You squeeze even more into his shoulder, warming yourself a little. His rochet-styled uniform wears the distinctive scent of incense, honey and disappointment, a perfume that is even more charming in a room that smells of tea and books. You let yourself inhale it until Rollo puts his hand on your head.

And now, you are distracted.

“Did something happen today?” He asks in a quiet, noticeably caring voice. You often hear a similar tone at night when you two return from evening prayer — whether you go there for God or for him — and Rollo is more inclined to care about everyone. Now all his attention is on you. You are a tad too intimidated and tired to respond. You only shake your head. “Well. Then let's go for a walk.”

That instantly enlivens you.

“Re... Really? You're not joking?!” You need confirmation because Rollo Flamm seldom changes his plans. You've already spent so much time with him that you can't imagine him missing a lesson for no more important reason than a bad morning attitude. And you considered yourself to be a rather imaginative person.

“You should already be aware of my lack of humour.”

You are. The little threads of romance in his body must have awakened, and you feel almost guilty for labelling him as the stiffest student in NBC. And since Rollo is being so gracious today...

“Then, can we hold hands?”

Your question throws him off balance, and you are ready to call off your request when he suddenly starts correcting the folds of his outfit to distract you and focus on staying carefree.

“...I apologize, but I might need some more time. I need to get accustomed to all that… romantic...” He starts, but then you grab his hand. The words of protest die on his tongue. He swallows the remnants of them as he grunts. “Alright. At least you won't get lost.”

(...No kissing before the wedding, though). /hj

Che'nya (insufficient kisses)

“Strawberry.”

“No.”

“Raspberry then.”

“Also no. But you're almost there.”

Che'nya presses his lips to yours for the eighth time, and you cover the label of the drink you're holding in your hands even more tightly.

Your boyfriend has decided he can guess the taste of the orangeade you're drinking. You think he knew exactly what you were drinking from the third kiss: you shared a favourite range of fizzy drinks, and there was never any indication that you intended to change it. Che'nya would have forced you to convert back if such a thing ever happened.

“Hm~” Your boyfriend hums under his breath as he moves away from your face. When you look at him unmoved, he smiles broadly. “Cher- Chestnut”.

“Duh, you already know the answer.”

“So it's a Cherchestnut?”

You sigh, and Che'nya’s smile spreads even further across his face. His white teeth flash softly as if he hasn't eaten the entire basket of cakes you baked for him and his friends' first thing in the morning.

“Now you're just being mean,” you cross your arms to have Che'nya feel accused. He leans back in his seat, and his smile does not disappear from his face.

“Am I?”

“Aren't you?”

“If I were so sweetened by your presence that my senses were going mad, would my mistakes be ‘mean’ too?” When he says this, he sits up straight and leans beside you. He takes two steps onto the bench and sinks down into your lap, facing up — and by that — facing you.

He reaches out to touch the locks of your hair falling towards him.

“Are you a madman yet?” You ask, leaning towards him with your lips pressed together in a line.

“Am I? Or am I not? Who are we all anyway?”

“I know you're an annoying boyfriend. I don't like you from now on. Oh from now on, I don't like you,” you snap your fingers, and Che'nya smiles broadly. You try to push him off your lap, but he gracefully turns before you manage to do so and then wraps his arms tightly around you.

“My love will cover the two of us,” here he places his hands on both your cheeks and kisses the corner of your mouth. You try to swat him, but then he starts to disappear. His lips and words remain last with you. “But now it is time to withdraw. I feel a strong antagonism towards me here, and I shall take my leave.”

Neige L. (the most common in a world of uncommon kisses)

Neige loves kisses.

For this reason, you find it hard to believe that he can't write a few sentences about them on his Magicam. You don't know how to prove it, though, because Neige has photos — beautiful footage from a recent photo shoot revolving around the theme of picnic and spring — that he needed to publish soon. They were now lingering in his gallery on his phone, waiting for Neige’s inspiration to strike.

“If I wasn't here, would you also have such a problem with a short description?” Your question sounded like an insincere accusation, to which Neige replied with a smile.

He had long since put his phone away in his bag. He always put it away when he wanted to give you one hundred per cent of his attention, but the subject of the photo kept hovering over the two of you because your boyfriend said he needed inspiration.

Every inspiration follows experience.

You're ready to help him any time, but not joshing with him first.

“I wouldn't write about them then. I would come up with something about spring or beauty...” He says, peering out of the wide window of his room. The view is lovely, full of greenery. Spring is coming. “But now that I have you, I can write about something as beautiful as love.”

“...Poser.”

Although that's the title you hail him with, Neige no longer responds. He cannot divide his attention, and what occupies him now is you, your face, your beautiful sparkling eyes, the shape of your ears, the lobes of which he runs his fingers over until they reach your jawline. There they stop as his attention shifts again: to your lips, the soft, smooth lips that he loves to kiss so much. And he kisses them, and everything around him loses meaning.

...

“How did it feel?” He asks, pulling you back onto the sofa. You sigh lightly.

“Is that survey to create an ideal description for the photo?”

“That's for me too. For contemplation.”

Neige looks at you with anticipation. When he sees that you need to think, he takes his eyes off you and pours fruit tea into the two cups in front of you, on the coffee table bordering a sofa.

“I don't know how to describe them. Either way, it's your job to think of something, so don't dump it on me,” you finally state, picking up the cup you've been given. You take a sip and decide to deflect the question. “And how do you feel, Neige?”

“Indescribably,” he says as he can't describe it either. Neige puts his hand over his heart and when he looks you straight in the eye, you are perfectly able to pinpoint why his fans love him so much - he looks princely. Neige sighs quietly. “I think I'm going to have to go with this spring because I don't know how to describe all the things that are bubbling up in my chest. I'll have to think about it longer.”

You pat him on the shoulder.

“Good luck with that. If you don't come up with any ideas, I can link you some fanfictions with nice descriptions.”

“Thank you, they will come in handy.”

“...They can be works with you, right?”

“...Ah.”

[cerise-on-top]

Hey! It's me again, I've been a little needy these days and I'd like to make a request, something really cute.

Valeria, Farah and Kate.

Like, they spent the night with you having fun at home, but in the morning they had to leave for work without even having time to say goodbye, but before leaving there was a noticeable mess that remained in the house, a tremendous mess. But when they arrive late from work, they find the house shining completely clean, and soon they find the reader sleeping in the living room with the TV on, but still sleeping peacefully, because her tiredness does not allow her to stay awake to receive them.

(I would love to be spoiled by Valéria in exchange for being her housewife)

I think this scenario is so cute and I love your writing, and sorry if something is wrong, I'm using the translator again. Kisses and have a great day. <3

Hey! That's a really cute idea! Sorry this is short, I'm just really tired again tonight!

Valeria, Farah and Laswell Finding Reader Asleep

Valeria: She’s not particularly surprised to find you asleep, she usually comes home extremely late at night. However, the sight warms her heart every time. Stands in the doorway for a few seconds, watching your chest rise and fall as you sleep, a small smile on her face. It’s only afterwards that she realizes you’ve cleaned your shared home. Valeria will sigh a bit, the home was in complete disarray when she left, so it must have taken a while for you to clean it all up. No wonder you’re asleep. Although she may not be the tallest person, Valeria is strong, so she’ll pick you up and carry you to your bedroom, giving you a kiss on your forehead. During these moments she loves nothing more than to hold you, even if she normally isn’t a very touchy feely person. But something about you being asleep in her arms as she carries you, completely vulnerable, just gets to her. However, it won’t be long before Valeria goes to bed herself, getting ready for such a thing, she’s tired as well. The day after she’ll spoil you rotten, though. You’ve earned a nice reward for being such a good spouse for her, and so she’ll take you on a fancy date. Or maybe, since you’ve cleaned your home so nicely, she’ll just stay home with you to cook a good meal together. The choice can wait, she’ll just ask you later.

Farah: She’d be ecstatic to see you’ve cleaned your home. It must have been a long and boring task, but she truly does appreciate it. Like Valeria, she watches you for a few moments, thinking about whether or not she should wake you up. In the end she decides against it since you truly must have been tired. However, she will drape a blanket over you and give you a small kiss on your cheek, hoping to not rouse you too much in the process. Farah makes herself a small snack so she has had something to eat before she finally goes to bed herself. However, she doesn’t go to bed, she joins you on the couch, holding you close and nuzzling into your hair. While she may be extremely tired herself, she still daydreams a bit about how she could possibly repay you for doing that Sisyphean task. Anything from ordering takeout and paying to going on a walk during the sunset sounds good to her as long as she can show you her appreciation. Since she’s feeling very content around you, she might also start humming a bit, knowing fully well that you can’t hear her. But it’s just something she does when she feels comfortable around someone. Plus it helps her fall asleep too. In the end she’ll likely settle for something calm like staying at home and just cuddling the day away while thanking you. Or just doing whatever you say so she can feel like you’re getting enough rest and she did something for the household as well.

Laswell: By the time she’s home the sun has probably almost risen anyway given her line of work. Laswell would be dead tired, so I’m not even sure she’d notice you having cleaned right away. However, she would see you having decluttered the desk in the living room and be grateful. Although she may almost fall asleep herself, standing in the doorway and barely noticing her surroundings, she will see you sleeping on the couch and immediately think about sleeping next to you. Granted, Laswell isn’t a very cuddly person either, and she can’t sleep particularly well holding someone either, but she thinks it would be unfair if you slept on the couch while she slept in the bed. At least that’s her logic at the moment. She won’t even try to carry you to bed, she just wants to head to bed. Gets changed and stands still in front of the couch for a few moments before draping a blanket over you. Naturally, she’ll turn off the TV, but afterwards she gets some shut eye for a few hours as well. Only in the morning does she notice that everything is spic and span. Laswell will feel bad if you woke up before her and made some breakfast. However, she will make it up to you as well. If there’s anything you ever need from her, she’ll do it. She’ll have done it before as well, but she doesn’t want to be indebted to you. Gives you a kiss before promising you that she’ll clean up next time. Either on her own or with you. You did such a good job, she’ll likely get you some cake to show her thanks in the meantime.

[pepperyhoney]

COLLEGE END TERM EXAMS ARE KILLING MEEEE but

I saw someone saying that he is blaming himself for something that is not his fault completely because he always does (re: AM retirement), and that katsuki is showing how much he is a soft person at heart. And how he is not to blame for this. But i have a slightly different interpretation from this.

i think Katsuki was not a soft person. and I think that here was not a show of how much he loves to blame himself. it is stated again and again how much of him is brash and callous and arrogant, and like his mother and himself said, he is given too much praise and never really tasted rejection or failure—except from himself. and even then, he never dwells too much on it and just keep having the mindset of improving and one upping everyone including himself. the sigma grindset, if you will. Even though his outward theatrics shows how explosive he is and how he gets so agitated at many things, he has shown that he has more emotional control in battle than even Midoriya-I-Will-Go-Berserk-Over-My-Endangered-Lover-Izuku. like he even has to remind Izuku to not dwell on things lest it kills him.

Then he came back from the dead.

The death itself is a significant factor. "Can I still catch up to you?" as one of his last thoughts, was something he now consider his reality, his acceptance of himself and Izuku. He reframed the way he tasted failure and rejection of what he thinks the way he is - of how he perceived Midoriya and that what he rejects about him in the first place then came to reject him in return-into something that once again motivates him to win and to always have a goal, his newborn northern star.

When All Might retires, he blames himself because all might is the symbol of peace and people around the world now lost it and there's a new imbalance that he feels are a part of his responsibility. But truly, regardless of anything, all might will retire anyway due to his injury. It is not his fault. He just hates the feeling of "failing" to save himself, that he needed to be saved. He doesn't want to accept that.

Then we get a narrative of how quirk is viewed by the world, the sides of it, and the darkest part of it. Izuku is shown to be affected by this too, while relying on his own belief that stems from all might idealism (the vigilante era). But then his class shows how much that idealism is no longer sustainable, and repeating the same things aren't going to do anyone any good. Katsuki, despite the lack of narrated inner thoughts, is a part of crowd who instill it to izuku as well. Then he apologized. He knows that Izuku is this self sacrifical because of him. That he thinks he can't truly save anyone without giving a part of himself. Which circles back to how he accepted izuku as a rival and a partner. He now see him as he is and accept the part of it was his fault. Katsuki went on with life because he thinks that now Izuku can always change for the better, like he always do, and he will be there on his heels, to be with him and to accept his hand, and i quote, "for the rest of their lives".

When izuku has to give up OFA to try save Tenko, when he really showed how much he is willing to give up anything- even the greatest gift and his raison d'etre that is propelling him to this point along with Katsuki himself (because you know, izuku extend his hands to everyone and that starts with his extension to Katsuki), That is really what hits home to him. That they're so interwined with each other, that izuku has always been a hero to him as much as he is to Izuku, that the extended hand he swatted all those years ago, is the same hand that still give a part of himself away to tenko shimura in an attempt to save him. Izuku was always a hero because he will not hesitate to save anyone.

Now that he saw Izuku as a rival, and saw izuku as what he is, he truly sees how much saving is tied to the act of being saved, that everyone has to help each other to truly win, that to protect someone, you have to be willing to be protected to save yourself, too. Now, the hand he rejected all those years ago, the person he rejected again and again, is unable to save himself from fate, and the worse part, he can't protect him from fate and himself. He saw how much his actions truly meant, he saw how apology only grazed the surface wound of the consequence of a childhood ignorance. Now he truly understands that all he wanted was to protect Izuku; that it was all a misdirection of what he truly wants, to be a hero that protects people. that misdirection in turn bites him in form of losing his hero that saved him from himself. So, with tears of realization too late, "no... just what the hell did i do to you?".

the despair he feels is because he has so much respect for izuku and that bittersweet feeling of knowing that izuku choice is going to change everything, as well as knowing he has a part on it. He can't take back anything, and izuku has to live with it, and how does it truly feel to see the one you now saw as your equal, goal, northern star, to rise and dim because of you?

Katsuki was not a soft person. he is, now. Because he is saved by the people around him. Thats why his wish was to save izuku, too. He wishes there was another way, he wishes that the fate izuku has didnt have to enforce izuku's already self sacrificing beliefs. He wish that he is saved from the fate. He cries because he knows he is inseparable from it all-even if it wasn't truly his fault. He loves and respect him and knowing he is inseparable of what makes him love and respect him is making him realize the gravity of the situation. He changed so much from the brash and arrogant kid he was, that now instead of being angry and challenging at fate not going his way, he yearns for them to change so that the person he truly cares about is saved. His admittance and heartfelt confession is one hell of a leap and show how much he changed, and reducing it to him blaming himself for something not his fault is kinda redundant and insulting to his character development.