#euphoria is a beautiful show but so hard to work with for this type of thing

[arosspeaksnonsense]

So... I had a like, one shot fic type story idea

I probs won't be able to write it since I require full focus/dedication/attention to something when i want it to come into fruition (which is already difficult as is) and also since I have too much going on in my head and I want to do all of it, but instead I find myself doing nothing all day please god help me idk what this is called (my guess is laziness)

BUT anyways, onto the story idea

You know how ink's vials and I guess livelihood depends entirely on the creators/fandom? (Ok I guess not ENTIRE but his vials do depend on it, which is the things that essentially makes him alive.)

Well, since the fandom is not very active as it was when it was like, 2016-2017 (not saying its dead)

What if the fandom, just, dies? I mean duh its inevitable and Ink is silently pleading that the last creators hopefully won't leave but he knows its inevitable, no matter how hard he tries to make them stay, some of them already starting to give up.

The others notice ink's change in behavior and ink tells them the entire the thing and how he has only a few more time left to be alive I guess.

The others obviously distraught about this, but ink reassures them its fine, but the others weren't convinced

And then they find ink maybe sobbing or terrified as he tells them that the creators all left and are all gone and that he's probably going to go soon too.

This makes the others panic and desperately asks ink if there is another way for his vials to work, in which he sadly answers no.

they then dedicate the next few days into making sure ink is enjoying every second of the very little time he has left.

As they slowly looses all his colors one by one, eventually he looses all of them completely, which leaves them being the same emotionless, soulless skeleton he started as before.

Everyone is left in distraught and sadness

All his friends all sobbed and cried, some silently and/or internally crying, as their once lively, creative and cheerful friend, now nothing more than an empty shell of what he once were.

A hollow husk, with an emotionless and empty expression.

A painful reminder hit all of them, that they will never get that face to smile ever again. the same face that used to grin and laugh all the time.

The cheerful smile that he let out as he pranks and greets others, the lively motivations he loved giving to everyone.

The Laughs and snorts he gave out whenever he got someone in a prank, or from a joke not many understand, if any one did at all. And how when he becomes too flustered, or when too much euphoria and happiness comes flooding his feelings, he will starting to float in the air and continuously go up until the euphoria ends and they eventually go back down.

His Lips(?) Now closed and sealed shut

No sign of a tone or a voice to speak

The hands that used to paint with such freedom and care, the hands that used to make such magnificent and beautiful paintings, that gorgeously and perfectly replicate reality as if though it was reality itself. The fingers that used to dance around the flute as it made music, the hands that sew not only fabrics of clothing but also the fabrics of reality.

Gone is the passion in his hands that once were, the hands that moved freely, stuck in place.

His feet that loved to dance and move wherever it goes, exposed out to the world, lacking of any visible footwear, lacking any care where it stepped and what it was on, representing freedom and free of chains.

Both now rigid and unmoving.

His eyes, oh dear his eyes. The eyes that used to express themselves so much. So expressive that it almost made you forget he lacked the very base of every being, a soul. The eyes that so greatly showed its differing and unique shapes and colors that expressed whatever emotion they were feeling.

Now reduced into an empty and pitiful circles of white, indicating emotionless and lifelessness, no more is the eyes that burst with colors and shape, only a blank stare is what remains.

He was so empty.

It terrified and saddened everyone.

The Multiverse Was filled with sobs and cries, Silence in some

The Multiverse was crying and mourning its guardian.

Dream, Distraught, knew what he had to do.

He had only known about ink's dads when Dream had been frantically looking for Ink as he had seemingly Disappeared, only to find said skeleton in the garden with a Gaster, this one had wings.

He has watched and approached carefully, but was stopped by a loud yelled by the short skeleton

He didn't know how to respond but he only walked closer, the expression on the gaster seemed..pleasantly surprised.

Not long after, dream had found out about how he isn't the only gaster in the house but two were sharing it, and how said two are married and fathers to his short friend

It was a pleasant surprise to dream

But...this surprise..

Will not be so pleasant.

As Dream was about to grab and carry Ink, The hands that intertwined on eachother, that hands being of Inks and Errors

Speaking of the glitch, Hes...probably not going to be well after this, after all besides blue, Ink was the only one that really took the time and Effort to Understand and Befriend Error, they had a very close relationship.

Error had not let go of Ink's Hand ever since the news of his depleting life. His haphephobia suddenly gone during doing so, (or is it?? I can't tell.) But now, he doesn't seem to react, only tightening his grip and continuing to look and stare into nothingness, finally Dream spoke

"Error..?, can you..let go?? Of Ink, I feel like his father's need to see this."

"...why can't they just..come here..."

" I'm afraid Aster cannot step outside of their AU"

"...fine. But I'll with you."

"Of course."

Dream opened a portal, he slowly walks through with error, who's carrying ink bridal style.

Aster and Top has not spoken over the past few days, worry littered their mind, as the news of their little star burning itself out soon had reached their non existant ears.

They spent Time with their little star, they made sure he enjoyed and had fun every second of the time they had left with him.

Eye bags shows prominent under their eyes, they hear a knock at the door, their eyes grows surprised, wishfully hoping their little hat had come to visit them again

Aster stands up and walked towards the door, a smile on his face, as he opens the door, his smile drops,

He sees the three Skeletons, and he sees especially the star that had burnt out.

Aster simply stares and does not respond, his eyes widened.

His hands slowly reaches for Ink

And Error though hesitant, give Ink to Aster.

Aster, felt like he couldn't breathe, the little star that always shined bright, so much so it didn't seem like they were ever going to die down, and yet here he is, no longer shining, his smile and laughs and snorts gone forever.

As he holds ink, he holds his hands, tears starts to flow down his face, he remembers when he held those small hands, guide them through the dirt, when Aster was teaching ink about gardening, when Aster saw the glimmer in his eyes (oh god, he will never get to see that ever again will he?) When he was watching Aster show him around the Garden, offering to show him how to grow beautiful flowers. He so excitedly followed every step so cautiously, contradicting Aster's Expectation of many mess up.

As he held into ink's tiny hands, the hands that he teached to learn many things, that he teached to not used his power so much.

He cried, he cried for ink, he cried for his child, his baby, his star.

And behind Aster, walks Top.

Eyes widened, eyes filled with tears.

There he saw his son, the little outcode that slithered their way into his life and affection, on the arms of his beloved, dead and empty,

Memories flashed as Top slowly made his way to his family. The tiny sans that laughed, smiled and cheered everyone around him, The tiny sans that was so tiny, Top's hat almost covered over half of their face, the tiny face that loved to tell stories and show paintings to their parents. His son, Ink, Dead and Empty in the Arms of his Husband.

It hit them, Ink is an outcode, he never belonged to a Universe, not in any AU, they can't just reset and reverse this like with aster or with any other sans, he truly and utterly gone.

The screams and cries of the Two Fathers, The Guardian of the Positivity, and the God of Destruction could be heard and felt throughout the entire Multiverse.

The Multiverse will never be the same.

But, at least Ink died happily with family, friends that cared for him, that stayed with him no matter his ways, his condition.

That will never forget him.

And to him it is enough.

The Multiverse Felt Empty.

#NOOOOOOO I BET ON LOSING DOGS BY MITSKI WAS PLAYING AS I WAS WRITING INK'S DADS PART #THE TIMING #ahem #anyways angst #ink angst #specifically #ink sans #utmv #undertale #ink!sans #inktale #utau #undertaleau #error sans #undertale multiverse #errorink #i might expand it on ao3 but have this for now

[amive2567]

hi hi! hope you’re doing well!

could i request a gekko x fem reader where the reader is new to the protocol and gekko trains them? like how harbor trains gekko

i don’t really have anything else to add lol, have fun with it! we need more posts on the gekko x reader tag fr

hope you have a great day/night, and stay hydrated!

A/N: First of all, sorry that it took so long. I was hit with terrible writers block and live was bit stressful so the piece may or may not be the best, but i hope you still like it. Translations: Ojo Bonita = watch out beauty Entrenador = coach Hermosa = gorgeous Cariño = love, but can be interpreted as “dear” or “honey” Words: 643 Type of order: Bubble tea (request), Hot chocolate (fluff ), small Green Tea (platonic with specks of mutual interest romantically), Cupcake (one shot)

As a new recruit in the Val HQ, you still felt lost. Even though you already made some friends and developed a crush on a certain green-haired agent, you still couldn't pinpoint where the training ground was. Harbor even gave you a map, but you failed to orientate yourself in this huge building. A glance at your watch told you that you were slowly but surely running late. "Shit, shit, shit…" you mumbled while trying to find this damn training ground. You rush around corners and long hallways until you stumbled against a body. "¡Ojo Bonita! Why are you running so fast? Jeez you could have tripped, but I am glad you are finally there." Gekko spoke calmly. He picked you up from the ground and got you back on your feet. "I am so sorry. I still have no orientation in this huge building. Where is Harbor?" You glance behind you to look around you. There is no trace of him. "He is busy today. So I am your personal entrenador, hermosa." You smile at him, cursing yourself at the same time that you paid so little attention in your Spanish classes in high school. "We should get going then? I already took some of your time, because of my delay."

At first, he began to explain the different weapons to you. "So the Vandal is a bit more complicated. This weapon's short bursts of fire make short work of enemies. However, the stability suffers with continuous fire. The Vandal maintains its damage at long range and rewards those who specialize in single headshots." he explains expertly. You pick up the weapon and aim at a dummy. "Hermosa, let me show you how to aim properly," he says and stands behind you. He takes your hands in his and guides you. His warmth, lets a shiver run down your spine. "Make sure to aim at the head. The weapon is quite heavy, so you should get some arm training done." He grabs your waist and forces you to take some steps back. Your breath is stuck in your throat. The warmth of his body makes your heart flutter. "Now shoot," he says,and you press the trigger. A loud bang echoes through the hall and the dummy collapses. "I did it." you cheer, and out of euphoria, you hug him.

For a moment no one realized what just happened until you let go, your cheeks were flushed red. "Oh, err, sorry, I didn't mean to…" you stuttered. "No problem, hermosa, it was cute." his cheeks are also faintly red band he rubbed the back of his neck. Both of you kept quiet for a while, and an uncomfortable silence followed. "So, er, what is on the schedule now?" you ask shyly. "I will teach you how to move properly and how to aim during hectic situations" Gekko explained, he seemed to hide his embarrassment for now and tried to be professional.

The hours passed, and you got exhausted. He was kind, but his training was hard. Sweat was running down your forehead, but you kept going, and pushed through. "You did well, hermosa." Gekko patted your back. You smiled up at him and nodded. "Thanks" Gekko handed you a water bottle. "Your first practice went well, but you still need to improve much. We need to teach you hand-to-hand combat as well and all. We continue this tomorrow" He said and smiled. "See ya" he waved goodbye and walked his way, leaving you alone at the HQ training room.

More training sessions had been done, and you improved gravely. Gekko was pleased and also proud. "Hermosa, I think you're ready for your first mission and after it, I have a little surprise. Keep up the good work Cariño" He winked which left you speechless, but a happy feeling arose in your chest.

#ami writes #gekko x reader #gekko valorant #gekko #valorant #valorant x reader #request #Mateo Armendáriz De la Fuente

[lavenderedhoney]

Any tips on helping partners deal with gender dysphoria?

This is a tricky question because dysphoria is highly personal and can be extremely different from person to person. The number one rule is talk to the other person about their boundaries and don't make assumptions about what they want - what works well for one person could be absolutely devastating for another person.

Some basic things that I think can help anybody:

Ask what language they want used for their parts. Using the wrong language can cut deep, even if it's entirely unintentional. But using the right language isn't just about avoiding dysphoria, it can also be a huge source of euphoria. My baby exclusively calls her taint her pussy, to the point where typing the word "taint" feels objectively incorrect. I almost exclusively call my clit a dick and basically only use "clit" for clarifying purposes when I think it improves readability. It's something that can be a very small change but can be extremely effective - both of these have been absolutely huge for us. Not only does it feel better to give those parts different names, but it really helps us to think of and engage with those parts in a different/less standard and gender-affirming way when we interact with each other's bodies! Language is really fucking powerful, so use it. It might feel silly at first using the "wrong" word for a body part if you've been calling it something different your whole life, but if your partner asks for it, do it.

Compliment the parts they feel good about. This might be hard if your partner has body image problems (maybe they struggle to find any parts of their body they do like), but see if there are parts that don't feel at odds with their gender and hype those up! My girlfriend loves to talk about how broad and strong my shoulders are and how handsome she thinks my face is, and I don't necessarily believe her but it still feels incredible to hear every single time. I am literally obsessed with her tits and hips and ass and I let her know as often as I can because it sends her over the moon! Compliments like this can be a really good way to not only combat dysphoria, by taking away emphasis on parts or traits that don't feel so good, but also to give a sense of euphoria.

Directly related to the last one, use adjectives and titles that affirm their gender. Some that turn me into absolute jelly, as a vaguely transmasc-ish nonbinary lesbian: handsome, prettyboy, loverboy, good boy. Some that make my girlfriend's brain turn into soup as a trans woman: beautiful, gorgeous, honey, pretty girl, pretty thing, princess, kitten, angel. Your partner/s might not know what gendered terms will sit right with them, so ask first before you call them something new!

If your partner/s want to dress a certain way or modify their body to affirm their gender (letting their hair grow/cutting it short, getting piercings, going on HRT, getting surgery), support them. It doesn't matter if it's not a change you personally find attractive. What should be most attractive to you is your partner being happy.

Lastly, I wanna talk about what personally has probably been the most effective way my girlfriend and I have helped combat each other's dysphoria. It absolutely will not be helpful for everyone, but it's done wonders for us, so I want to talk about it while being clear that this isn't gonna be an approach that works for everybody. And that's been showing extra love to the parts of each others' appearances that we know the other person is dysphoric about. I struggle with on-and-off chest dysphoria, and she has or has in the past felt dysphoric about, among others, her facial and body hair, her height, the width of her shoulders, her voice, and her dick. But instead of avoiding these parts of each other's bodies, it feels good for us when they're given extra attention. The basic acceptance in going "yeah, your body looks like this, and you're still [x gender], and you're really fucking hot" has done wonders for us both. I know she sees me as nonbinary, so it doesn't bother me and in fact is very flattering and wonderful when she can't keep her hands or her mouth off my tits. I love that she can love them without seeing me as a girl. She loves when I pet and admire her stubble and chest hair and belly hair, when I cup her pretty cock and pepper it with kisses, etc. She says the way I treat her body makes her feel beautiful and feminine, which is everything I could ever ask for.

Again, that super won't work for everyone and I do not recommend it as a one-size-fits-all solution if your partner's feeling dysphoric. I've met plenty of trans people who would hate it, who hate having the things they're dysphoric about emphasized literally at all, who would be intensely uncomfortable or angry or sick to their stomach if someone approached them like this, and that's okay. Dysphoria isn't something you can just love away and I'm not advocating for that at all (and if you think it can be, fuck you). The only reason why this works for the two of us, I think, is because we both know that while the other person loves our body, they're also completely supportive of any and all gender choices we might make. My baby is really ecstatic that I just bought my first chest binder and that I'm looking into HRT options to increase the size of my dick, and I'm super excited that her tits have gotten bigger lately and that her figure is still changing. It's all-accepting acceptance, or it wouldn't be worth anything.

If you have any tips to add, please share them!

#reply #advice #anonymous #text

[kakiastro]

Astrology of Zendaya

Using whole sign system

Aquarius rising with chart rulers Saturn Aries 3h(traditional) and Uranus Aquarius 1h(modern)

-she stands out from the crowd, she’s unique, she seen as classy and mature in media. She’s also seen a force but she’s not overdoing it, like her presence is powerful enough, so she doesn’t need to do PR stunt if she doesn’t want to. Aquarius placements gives off star power as well due to Leo being it’s sister sign. Aquarius placements stand out more when they’re authentically themselves.

Sun Virgo 8h

-She’s very private with her life, sun represent fame and public but the 8h is private.

I don’t think she likes fame because of this but she loves her career. But I think she’s done a great job a maintaining her private life with public. She may be a perfectionist but her hard work pays off. Her sun is 9°(Sagittarius) this degree indicate mass fame.

Taurus moon 4h

- emotions are stable and balanced. She has a beautiful singing voice and would be successful if she decided to pursue that career. Taurus rules the throat and vocal chords and moon is considered a good placement for singing. She’s probably been in the arts all her life like I know she was on Disney but I think she’s been performing since forever with a Venus ruled 4h plus the moon is here. Her moon is at 7°(ibra) this indicates fame at early age which is true for her.

Scorpio Mc

- she’s seen as a force to be reckon with in her career field. Mc is our public image and how we act in public. She’s very private in public and it works in her favor! Pluto conj Mc, Pluto is extrêmes so her fame kind of blew up especially after euphoria. This aspects indicates obsession, her Pluto is in the 11h of society and social circles.

Leo 7h

- 7h is the people close to us and she’s the star of her close relationships. It’s also one of the public houses. This placement also explains why the public is so interested in her romantic relationships especially the one she’s in now with Tom. But I feel like no matter who she dates, it’s going to be a topic of discussion due to the fact she also has Juno 3h. 3h rules over the media. Juno rules over your serious romantic relationships

Juno Aries 3h

-Juno represents who we will marry, our ideal marriage, this also shows our devotion depending on the house. now this doesn’t mean they’ll be that sign but may have the qualities or aspects to that planet ruler. She’ll end up marrying someone fiery, bold, a protector, aries is the first zodiac someone who has a youthful presence. 17°(Leo) they may also be well known to the public. with its ruler (mars) in Cancer conj Venus 6h. They could be co-workers, may meet through family or is close to family, meet through a friend. She’s in a relationship with Tom and they’re co workers! Even if they don’t get married, these are the type of partners she’ll be ideally attracted too!

Neptune Capricorn 12h

-Neptune rules over movies and can show you what kind of movie an actor will thrive in.

Her most famous role right now is euphoria, Spider-Man and Dune.

12h rules over fantasy (Spider-Man), addiction(euphoria) and foreign land(Dune)

Capricorn means her roles will be remembered for a long time. Neptune is a generational planet so her legacy will be remembered long after she’s gone

She also has Jupiter her which means long term mass fame. like I’ve noticed celebrities who has Pisces influence carry “gods among us” energy. People look up to you and think they know you when they really don’t, it can be dangerous cause people form fictional relationships with you in their head. If you establish boundaries with your fanbase which she’s done then it’ll calm that down

North Node Libra conj mercury and Chiron 9h

-north node is the lessons we need to learn this lifetime, it’s our fate and destiny. Chiron is the wounded healer and mercury is the learner and communicator. 9h is also the higher learning house

I would say her lesson this lifetime is to learn from your relationships, learn to work with people and be a team. She had south node Aries conj her Juno. South node represents early life and pass life. She’s been very independent since a young age and was probably heavily independent in her pass life but now she has to learn to work with a team, her romantic partner or business partner, maybe all three of these things! With Chiron here, someone betrayed her trust early in life or her parents split early in childhood so that left a hurtful wound and shaped how she view relationships.

Long term transits

-The lunar nodes are changing this year from Taurus/Scorpio to Aries/Libra for 18 months. Aries NN will be aspecting her Saturn and Juno while Libra SN will be aspecting her NN, Chiron and Mercuryy

I suspect she’s going to be having more responsibilities due to her career, she may have moments on what she wants to do long term with her life. Pass wounds from relationship may pop up but she’ll work on healing this and may start focusing on what she wants when it comes to those closest to her, especially relationships. She may get engaged or be more committed to her partner

Saturn Pisces for 2.5 years

It’ll be in her 2h, so maybe be more responsible with her finances. She may start looking into long term investments for her future.

Pluto Aquarius for 20 years.

-it’ll be in her 1h so some sort of drastic physical change to her looks or fashion choices. This could be an empowering time for her as well. She’s going to be force in society since that’s what aqua rules. People(especially social circles)will start to feel intimidated by her with Pluto in her 1h. It’s like having a Scorpio rising. She may really be private from public eye now lol

I Hope you enjoyed this reading, can’t wait to look back on this to see if some of the things I mentioned actually come to pass lol

Have a good day guys!

#astrology community #knowledge #astrology #astro observations #love astrology #celebritybirthchart #advanced astrology #birth chart #fame astrology #zendaya #natal chart

[eldritch-spouse]

How would your OC's react to a partner that's a photographer/"artist" like Stefano Valentini from evil within 2. And getting gifted a special "art" piece that was made especially for them? Or being used as a muse?

[As a heads up, since I have like 300 characters, answering an ask with all their perspectives would take forever. So, if people could specify at least one or two (or more, ofc) whose opinion/reaction they want to see the most, it would help a lot! :7]

I know for a fact that Vinnel, Krulu, Shags, Ludwig and Mervin would adore this in a partner.

Vinnel is low-key a bit artsy, or rather, creative. And most of that creativity is veered towards violence, as are all his performances. This would no doubt be one of the things that has him fall for you, it legitimately gets him hot under the frills to see you in action. And that's about one of the best gifts you could make for him as well, it's rare that someone relates to his violent mindset but to also care enough to try and make it even more appealing to him? He could honestly cry. Poppet, it's about time you star in some of his shows, as a co-star this time.

Similarly, Shags is enamored with your art. He himself has very morbid tastes, but they usually don't go beyond ink-splattered pages and the delicate preservation of body parts. Your corporeal art is a lot messier, but it's a beautiful, elegant type of chaos that has Shags' breathing labored. Chances are it would catapult his attraction to you into new heights. Teach him, teach him everything about your modus operandi, he's never been so in love in his entire life. To be gifted such a piece will have him in giggling euphoria. He'll make you a return gift that the shroom hopes will means as much as yours does to him.

Ludwig is a simple demon. He sees his partner brutally kill someone, and he gets a boner. It's not rocket science, but there's definitely something taking off in his pants. Now, the guy knows very little about art and the artistic process as a whole, but I assure you he's your number one supporter. In fact, he'd be delighted to participate in your pieces, in case you don't have the brute strength necessary to make certain tweaks or, you know, just because he wants to get soaked in blood and fuck you like that. The gift, if it involves body parts, will be just like traditional wrath demon courting, so he'll be extremely flattered. You'll get a massive weapon in return.

Mervin, snob that he is, won't shower you in praise (at least not within your earshot), but he'll clap. Once. And tell you that, out of all deadbeat modern artists out there, your work does have soul to it, and he hopes you get better. He's actually very excited whenever you make anything new, his tail wags furiously and he bites his own claws out of enthusiasm. You should use his sai for your next piece, definitely not because he thinks it'd be hot. When you gift him anything, he'll pretend to evaluate it for a full minute before calmly deeming it """up to his standards""". Then he goes home and throws himself a fucking party, flexing as hard as he can on other pride demons.

Krulu's been busying himself with grotesque side projects for a loooong time. Art made from the body and its intricacies is an interest of his, and he's very interested to see how far you can take it on your own. He's impressed with your level of uniqueness, for a mortal. It's a great bonding opportunity, all things considered, as he will add gruesome touches to your pieces, reshaping flesh in ways that shouldn't be possible, gardens of newfound anatomy and expressiveness that only a god could convey. You're likely to be as inspired as you'll ever be around Krulu. Offerings of this kind make him just about curl his toes with glee, the higher will reward you handsomely in the future.

As a side note, I think Nebul would love this, not particularly for the violence, but more because of the misery you can pull out of someone. The way you manipulate suffering out of your art pieces is both inventive and delicious. He could honestly get high off it.

#Krulu oc #Nebul oc #Mervin oc #Ludwig oc #Vinnel oc #Shags oc #crypticmidnight711

[soliyra-the-sunbringer]

Soli’s wishlist for Our Flag Means Death Season 2

Hey, so why not: I'll try typing up my ofmd s2 wishlist. Some of these are improbable and/or unpopular.  You don’t have to agree with everything, but I’ve been encouraged to share my thoughts.  OFMD Season 2 wishlist, in the order in which I thought of them just now: 1. THAT THERE BE ONE.  Things are looking very good as of May 2022 but cruel and senseless things happen all the time and nothing is assured.   2.  Re: the reunion: THAT THERE BE ONE.  Some of you have never had your onscreen kiss and love confession take an immediate hard right into bury-your-gays and it fking shows.  Furthermore the writers and actors on this show are amazing and I want to see how they do it.   3. Abshir returns!  That dude is an absolute legend.  I need to know what he and his friends got up to after 1x05  and I am dying to see Oluwande's 'investment' pay off, hopefully at a point when the crew are at their lowest.   4.  Hornberry joins the Revenge crew.  He obviously likes them (he and Stede have a 'rapport') and there is no way that man is straight.  I want to see the Brittish officer -> pirate pipeline happen in real time.  And I want to see him involved in Stede et all getting off their feet/getting a ship.   LET HIM KISS BOYS.  (Is he sleeping with Wellington?  Maybe we’ll find out!)

5. Ghosthoney joins either the Revenge crew or Blackbeard crew.  I could honestly see it working either way and either way is pure gold.  6. "You're STEDE'S Ed???"  The many people on Tumblr calling for this are right and should say so.  Every drop of Ed & Mary content gives me life, particularly the moment she finds out he and the 'Dread Pyrate Blackbeard' are the same person, regardless of how exactly that goes down.   7. Lines for Ivan (in this economy) Ok, so it looks like this one isn’t going to happen, which is tragic but it does seem to mean that there is going to be a Season 2 for Ivan to not be in, so...great??  Anyway, so the way I would deal with this is for Ivan do die in an absurdly dramatic way off-screen.  It is somehow both heroic and cool and also stupid and hilarious.  The actors can probably improv this one, idk.  But no body, no crime, and leave it just open ended enough that he can just show up down the line (in an equally absurd and ridiculous way) if something changes wrt Guz’s schedule or w/e

8.  Jemain Clement as Benjamin Hornigold.  This has been hc’d so hard by so many fans...are we sure it’s not already canon?  Pirate-hunter arc would be epic.  9.  Captain Thomas EDWARD’S.  What can I say except that historical stuff is only cool if it’s funny and/or romantic and this sh is both. 

10. Doug comes out as trans, giving us bisexual (or otherwise wlw) Mary and transfeminine rep in one fell swoop.  

11. Speaking of which: Izzy Hands tries on a dress and experiences gender euphoria for the first time, which serves as a major turning point for the character.  (Ed and Izzy are lesbians together; I don’t make the rules).  

12.  Ed kisses a girl (and likes it, a la Katie Perry).  Please I am dying for explicit bi rep in OFMD. 

13, and this is an important one: STEDE KILLS SOMEONE ON PURPOSE.   --13a. that person is a dick. --13b. and preferably a racist.  This is an important point on Stede’s white-guy journey to active anti-racism.

13.  Anne Bonny and Mary Read, obviously.  Mary is Tig Notaro but I can think of literally dozens of actors I’d like to see as Anne and they’d all be great for different reasons.  MOAR WLW

14.  My favorite actors from the last major fandom I was involved in, because why the h not, is this a wishlist or what? 

15.  Harvey Guillen as someone extremely flamboyant and completely unhinged.  He’s been the uptight, contained one on wwdits for so long.  Let that beautiful little man be ‘round, brown, and proud’ and completely bonkers.  Let him get in a knife fight with Jim.  Maybe he’s part of the Siete Gallos, maybe he’s Jim’s long lost brother, maybe he’s just some pirate, idc.  This may or may not be a Harvey Guillen stan account. 

16.  A new wig for Jim.  Or maybe just Vico’s hair?  I do not like the current wig. 

17.  CREW.  FLASHBACKS.  The people (including Samba) on multiple platforms who are calling for this are right and should say so. 

18.  Geraldo appears in flashbacks.  He is an underrated character and Fred Armisen is delightful.  I said what I said. 

18.  STEARD NATION.  Murray Hewitt was a LOOK and I would like to see more, ty. 

19.  We all know that Lucius is alive, but have you consider that his life was somehow saved by the wooden finger, AKA the power of ~love~? 

20.  The people calling for Rory Kinnear to return as increasingly distant members of the Badminton family who all, improbably, look exactly like Rory Kinnear are right and should say so.  But male family members only; we will not be doing the ‘man in a dress’ trope on OFMD. 

21.  SHOW US THE TALENT SHOW YOU COWARDS.  The people calling for this ar-- you get the idea.  

22.  (can’t believe I almost forgot this one) Gnossienne 5 played on an unlikely instrument like electric guitar or something. 

23.  GIVE FANG A DOG.  Another popular one that is also empirically correct. 

24.  Explicit ace rep.  I don’t really care who but bonus if it’s someone we already know. 

25.  One time I read a post somewhere that said s2 should start with Stede standing in his dinghy with his hand upraised and he sees the crew and they see him and he is immediately hit in the face by the red silk and.  Yes.  That.  I agree.  that’s all I can think of for now, except for the general idea of ‘boys kissing,’ which really should be a given but, again, the world is cruel and senseless and we can take nothing for granted. 

#ofmd #our flag means death #our flag means gay #ofmd season 2 wishlist #soliyra #wall of text #actually I think I'm just so so but I've decided to carry myself like I'm funny #spoilers #ofmd spoilers

[3x3-flowers]

The euphoria of an eating disorder

I want to start with a lot of context of who I am. I am a very relationship oriented person. Whenever I say relationships however, I do not necessarily mean romantic ones. I wasn't raised in a western country that had very individualistic ideals, in fact I was born in a country where  your relationships were praised just as much as your achievements. So I grew up thinking that our relationships and the environment around us makes us into who we are, not by own effort as much as the internet says so. It also fit the bill since I grew up in an extroverted household. One that travels and socializes lots., I made friends with most people. In most situations, I was welcoming and kind to everything that may come.

However, no matter how much I preach about relationships and connections there were things even I couldn't welcome well. My relationship with food and my body.

I resented myself for being so open to food and new tastes. I hated food for the longest time, I never thought I would be the type to be conscious of my body however. Thinking that all I needed was my skills and smarts, I could have pummeled through like like that but sometimes relationships were based off of how we looked. At least that's what high school taught me.

It started small. Honestly, it hadn't even bothered me until "he" said my thighs were too big. Then a subtle comment here and there. Of course it never really helped that I looked like the stereotypical nerd with my glasses and brown skin. I still liked food when all of this was happening. I thought food was still my friend, but 3rd year happened.

It wasn't anything really, it was actually just a gentle nudge and a dance step. I had my prom during this time of my life. The prom, the place where everyone had to look great, had to look wonderful and skinny and mature but still relatively young. I bought the most beautiful maroon gown with my grandmother at the start of December. Off the rack, it fit me perfectly, not too snug but it was absolutely made for me. No issues with my weight there but over the months I started eating less, it had gotten to the point that by February it was, loose.

I thought it was a bad thing to lose weight that fast but it felt so good to be small. It felt good to be thin and skinny, it felt euphoric. That night, I ate so little as well and it never occurred to me until now as of writing that really...I spiraled after this.

You see that summer, I was really into cosplaying and dressing up, It had taken me a while to gain confidence but I eventually slimmed down because I kept seeing these thin cosplayers look so good and in my eyes "You can't cosplay if you're not fit enough."

I sincerely apologize to those beautiful chubby and plus sized cosplayers out there but I don't hold those beliefs anymore, this is simply what I placed upon myself.

Maybe it was fantastic to wear skirts, as a fashion lover I held these feeling close to me. I loved the thrill of a size 20 or so waist. My thighs and waist were so skinny it was absolutely delightful. I had days were I wore short shorts and never worried about the sly comments of being called a fat ass. I could freely show my body in front of my classmates (side note: we were all girls) and never be made fun of. It was this praise and reward I had gotten for giving up something I thought I loved. They say a beautiful life made sacrifices, and for me, I gave up on food.

I barely ate and I felt empowered whenever my body started shaking in starvation because it meant I was getting skinnier, yes I know that it meant I could have potentially lost conscious but who cares when you were hot?

One thing I think doesn't get talked about enough in bigger spaces is the euphoria of an eating disorder, there was this reward for something you worked hard to maintain. It was this delicious wave of compliments and mirror selfies that tasted like the food you had wished you'd eaten.

As I got older however, this started to actually hurt because by my first year as a senior, I suddenly started losing a lot of muscle mass. If I was able to casually carry my bag, ipad, and a canvas during my last year of junior high, well by senior high I could only really carry a bag. I wasn't able to lift heavy things or even carry my friends like I used to. I was weak, but hey...Don't guys like weak girls? They felt manlier that way.

It got worse at my first senior years. It was the worst I had ever been in, and I was positive that I would have died if not for the constant love and help I got from my D&D group. I got admitted to the hospital for an attempted suicide and when all of that was happening, I had still refused to eat. Would you ever tell me the pain and embarrassment I got when the general physician had asked me if I wanted to lose weight?

I was already at the lowest point of my life, I was barely strong enough to lift my art materials, I barely ate everyday and to think...My BMI had spit on me that day, basically humiliated me by still clocking me in at overweight. This was what I hated about getting better. Getting better had no reward system, not to me. It never got me anywhere I needed to be. I hated slow progress, I hated small outcomes. It probably would have finished me off better than the strenuous amount of pills. By this time, I hadn't realize the hate and negativity I had surrounded myself in which really took a toll on me.

For some short context, I was in a new school with little friends that I couldn't really open up to. I was dating my groomer and he had neglected and made me felt bad about myself on multiple occasions. I was surrounded by people who constantly made me feel less of myself.

So throughout that process, I tried getting better. Not even for myself but for whoever leaned on me. I had friends an people who depended on me so much, I decided to have kept myself alive. I won't stray away from the simply fact that...I really really let myself go throughout this process. Sometimes I slipped back into that euphoric state by not eating for months again but eventually I got myself where I started.

Up to this day, I can't give you a happy ending but I just want to say that I no longer stop myself from eating. I eat normally now and I find that I actually really like Oreos with sprinkles on them or blue cheese with fresh garlic bread. When I feel worse about myself, I start eating less but I still eat my meals. I may cry about the weight but I tell myself that I don't have to love this body like its a temple or something but I can just choose to accept it. It's my body, I don't have to love it, I just need it to do what it does. My growth isn't linear, it isn't a straight line, relapses happen but here is my take on the euphoria of an eating disorder.

#3by3 #MagnoliaXTrauma

[cosmictulips]

PAC:: Poor Unfortunate Souls.

the third installment of this fun series lmao. we have... the Disney Villains! Now, someone brought this up to me as an idea and I was like, hell yeeeee. Okay, I can't find who gave me this idea but I think it was @tsundoku-reads

if you want to see the first two installments, here you go :: Sailor Moon, Disney Messages.

Anyway! if you wish to tip your reader, you get an intuitive reading =)

CAUTION ::

this is realllyy and I mean REALLY into shadow selves. if you are not tuned into your darker side, you may not resonate with any of these. if you are NOT aware of what you do to others intentionally and unintentionally, you may not see these qualities. this is a REALLY good pac for recognizing and beginning to do shadow work.

Choose between the photos! and I'll tell you which villianary suits you best.

Pile 1!

The World, The Sun, The Moon, 03 of Pentacles, Ace of Cups, 02 of Wands, Ace of Wands, 02 of Cups, 08 of Cups, Knight of Swords

omfg. you'd be the kind that works from passion. from love and bitter endings. you'd seek to ruin those who have taken everything from you. some of you have the most tragic backstories. You're down for manipulating people if you need to. you know how to get what you want. I would also like to say that this could be the pile of egos. playing the victim and always begging for forgiveness if only to turn around and do it again if they've hurt you. emotional manipulation could be a big thing here from other people or from yourself.

Selfish emotionally. you like to show off and perhaps even enjoy the spotlight if it's given to you. one way or another you'll get what you want. some of you literally operate from one distinct emotion. whether that is pain, sadness, euphoria. you chase a high.

the world treated you cruelly, and why should you be any different? I do feel like this pile really holds back because they know how emotionally manipulative they can be. how cold and uncaring. But you're also not the type to hold back for very long if you think someone or something is getting in the way from your light.

People literally may not like you because they get such strong emotions for you. whether you even say anything or not, people just want to fight you. for no reason. because you make them feel something. egotistical they may say. or you're so full of yourself. or like you're so dramatic and cruel. blah blah blah.

let me give you a list ::

Davy Jones -- pirate of the Caribbean

Gaston --- beauty and the beast

Hans--- Frozen

Claude Frollo --- The Hunchback of Notre Dame

Mother gothel --- Tangled

Pile 2

The Emperor, Queen of Swords, 08 of Swords, King of Wands, 09 of Wands, 07 of Cups, 10 of Cups, 07 of swords

Hollyyyy fuck you are the person who can command a room by sheer force of will. the type to have an intimidating voice or stare. you show no mercy to those you deem as weak. You worked hard to get where you're at and you're not going to let some rat get in the way of you worked for.

You guys are the pile that are boss ass bitches. no exception. pile one is more like the dark romantic, you guys are the group to sacrifice everything just for what you want. You don't care how long you have to keep going, or who you have to step on. You want that crown, you hold that crown, and you'll kill if it means you get to keep it.

Selfish. but only because you want the finer things in life. when the world doesn't play fair you hold on tighter to what you want. You RULE this world bby. and you know it. you would prefer it to be with a gentle hug, but if you need to use your iron fist, you won't care too much either. Either way, it's a win-win for you.

Maybe bossy. You are the type to always have a plan. you see where the weaknesses are in other people and you know how to exploit them. I feel like you guys are the pile that will just keep asking for more and more and more from a person.

Like "can you do this for me?" and "oh but I would prefer it if you bought me this". and "well it doesn't matter what you think, I already have this one. so I want that."

Very cunning. very smart. sharp tongued as well. I feel like the biggest difference between this pile and pile 1 is that you guys don't hide it lol. you are blunt, you are secretive. you are the leader. you KNOW this. it's why you may not like working with other people. because there's just a small part of you that doesn't understand. why. they. can't. fucking. see. it. the . way. you . do.

why they can't just shut up and go along with what you're planning. you don't like to be questioned haha. ooh darling if someone catches you on a bad day, you let them have it.

People may even say you're just scary to talk to when there's something going on. People may be envious of the power that you hold and are terrified for how you may end up using it.

A list for youuu ::

Maleficent --- Sleeping Beauty

The Evil Queen -- Snow White

Jafar ---- Aladdin

Professor Ratigan -- The Great Mouse Detective

Shan Yu --- Mulan

Pile 3!

King of Pentacles, 09 of Cups, the Devil, Ace of Swords, the High Priestess, Strength, 09 of Swords, the Star

You are someone who exploits peoples weaknesses. you have a sharp eye and even sharper tongue. some of you are very intuitive. and most importantly, you're not afraid to get down and dirty if you need to. very similar to pile one except you don't coat it. Like Hans from pile one who will manipulate, you guys are just a powerhouse. and that's the difference between these two piles.

Y'all don't need a motive other than "I like what I like" and that's it lmao. the first pile is more emotional, the second pile doesn't really care for emotions, and this pile, has them both together. you can most likely manifest anything. if someone does you wrong, I promise you, they regret it instantly.

you may not even have to do anything! a simple look gets this person to starve. you are the type that just takes things from people. you ruin their day with a single phrase. You HAUNT their nightmares. if you want someone out of your life or workforce, all you have to do is bat your eyes, and they're gone.

You have a LOT of power and I don't think some of you realize it. you literally make people nervous when you're angry. you make people anxious and scared. talk about silent and deadily lol.

I feel like this is also my more.... adaptive pile. you guys feel the most awake when it comes to your shadow side. so you know how to balance this shadow with your higher self.

I also just got the message that yall know how to lead people on lmao. people want to impress you because they fear what would happen if they let you down.

You aren't as loud as the second pile. but you are like... the silent force. the stage master for the performance. you let people see and feel what they want to. and you take what you need and go.

Hades --- Hercules

Dr. facilier --- Princess and the Frog

Ursula --- Little Mermaid

Scar --- The Lion King

Ursula --- the Little Mermaid

Oogie Boogie --- the Nightmare before Christmas.

#pac #pick a card #pick a pile #shadow workkk #heavy themes here guys be careful #tarot #free tarot readings #tarot readings #free tarot reading

[fairyaali]

hello love! Can I please request a somewhat spicy sub!chat noir x reader? Maybe where the reader is kinda feeling him up and leaving him hickeys and he’s a purring and moaning mess? Maybe he’s begging her to keep going and who is she to say no to such a sweet baby kitty? If that’s not too much of course😌 tysm

Hello bb ! I hope that this satisfied your sub! Chat needs hehe (i know it satisfied mine so) I really love how this came out and maybe i’m willing on continuing another part from here) Thank you so much for this request ! <3

Pairing: Chat Noir X Reader

Warnings: NSFW, characters are aged up in college here :), swearing.

Tags: Sub!chat, Dry humping, begging.

This is how it all went down. He saved you from an akumatized villain. He flirted. You flirted back. Then you guys started hooking up.

You didn’t understand why Chat Noir would do this with a civilian but like every other person on this planet, he has his needs. He would knock in a pattern on your window so you knew it was him and you would let him in, you’d talk for a bit, ask each other about your day until one of you breaks and pushes the other on the bed or against the wall. He was good in bed. Very good. You knew you’d never grow tired of this affair. To top it all off after you both finished you’d sit in bed and talk about all sorts of things. Aliens, Conspiracy theories about the media, gossip about people and sometimes he’d even play Mario Kart with you.

There were no strings attached. You both made it clear from day one. There couldn’t be. You both didn’t have the time for a relationship, you both didn’t have the energy for one so you simply stuck to the title ‘fuck buddies’ until one of you decides to back out. This night was different though. A smile didn’t appear on your face when you hear the familiar knock on your window because you were stuck cussing at your computer screen and rubbing your head in frustration. You had an essay to explain Shakespeare and his works but for some reason you kept deleting all that you’ve typed because you couldn’t put your thoughts into words.

He knocked again, quickly this time. “I know you’re there, beautiful.” His voice was muffled through the glass.

You huffed and put your laptop on the bed before stomping to the window. You opened it and were met by the hero grinning at you. You, on the other hand, didn’t have a pleased look on your face.

“I’m not in the mood Chat.” You state and were about to close the window again but he held it to stop you from closing it.

“Ma Belle, did I do something wrong?” He asks, a frown on his face.

You shake your head. “No, I just have this stupid essay that I’ve been trying to type out for the past four hours.” You sigh and make your way back to your bed, rubbing your temples.

He follows you inside and closes the window behind him.

“Maybe I can ease your stress for a little bit.” He says, a smirk on his face.

You simply shoot him a glare and he chuckles nervously, putting his hands up in defense.

“Okay. No sex. Got it.” He sits beside you and looks at what you’re typing.

“You know you can leave right? If you’re horny you can go to your other side bitches.” You say as you type away, your eyes glued onto your screen.

Chat purses his lips, like he held himself back from saying something and shook his head.

“Maybe I came here for some company.” He says.

You snort and chuckle. “Yeah right.” You say sarcastically and look at him, but he wasn’t smiling. You gulp and your smile fades away. Did he seriously come over because he feels lonely?

His face was leaning closer to your and you were leaning closer too. No. You had to finish this stupid essay.

“Stop distracting me kitty.” You whisper and kiss his nose quickly before looking back at the screen.

He groans and falls back on the bed, playing with the pillow.

“I can help you if you’re writing about Shakespear, I wro-“ He stops himself from talking and you turn around, quirking your eyebrow at him.

“You wrote an essay like this?” you questioned.

He visibly gulps and shakes his head.

“Do you go to college?” You question further.

He chuckles nervously. “You know I can’t tell you that mon ange.”

You stare at him for a moment before looking back at your screen. You decided not to pry further, he seemed uncomfortable talking about his personal life and you decided to respect his wishes.

Your phone started to ring and you see that it’s your friend from college Marinette. You pick it up.

“Hey Mari.” You say as you type.

“The deadline has been changed to next week!” She exclaims happily.

You were filled with rage.

“what?” You deadpanned.

“Yeah apparently some students asked to change it because they were having difficulties so he changed it to next week instead of tomorrow morning.”

“I literally asked him to extend the deadline three days ago and he refused. I swear to god I want to kill this son of a bitch” You groan and clutch your fist in anger.

She sighs, “I know girl, but hey at least you’ve got more time on your hands!”

Marinette always tried to be positive when she could and you appreciated that but honestly you needed to vent. “Yeah, thanks for letting me know Mari.”

“No problem! Bonne nuit.”

“Bonne nuit.” You sigh out before you end the call.

You groan out in frustration and shut your laptop.

“What happened?” Chat asks.

You get out of your bed and start to pace around.

“I have been working on this essay for the past four days, knowing very well how stupid it was that the deadline was only five days for a two thousand word essay on fucking Shakespeare and when I ask to extend the deadline, the son of a bitch replies with an angry email saying theres enough time and that im just lazy.” You finally breathe and chat was about to say something but you cut him off.

“But when his privileged French pupil ask him to extend the deadline of course he agrees and you know what, I think it was Adrien fucking Agreste who asked him because hes the fucking pretty model boy who has everybody on their knees for him just because of his high status.” You sit down and without realising you start talking about a different subject.

“Yeah, I get it, everybody wants to fuck the pretty blond guy with money, I would too but at least I don’t look like a thirsty bitch every time he talks to me, some girls in my damn college have literally no chill and I swear to god one day I want to make him my bitch, make him weak for me to show those bitches what i’m capable of.” You were breathing heavily at this point and your face was flushed red.

You always thought Adrien was attractive, everyone did but whenever he talked to you, you responded normally to him unlike other people who constantly laughed at everything he said to try and get in his pants. He was a good guy but he was too well known for his own good and it made you uninterested in him. You thought he was out of your league, that’s what those french bitches told you at least. They belittled you just because you’re foreign - you knew they were just jealous that Adrien was always the one to come up to talk to you unlike them.

That was enough ranting for now. You look at Chat who was staring at you wide eyed, his cheeks glowing red.

“You don’t need to say anything, it’s just-“ You look down at his body and notice something. “Chat..why are you hard?”

He crosses his legs over the other awkwardly to try and hide it. “W-What are you talking about?”

You stand up and walk over to him and he walks back until he’s pressed against the wall.

“What? You get hard thinking about me making someone weak?” You whisper to him and he looks away from you. “You want me to do the same to you kitty?” You kiss his ear and he shudders, nodding slowly. Your hand moves down from his chest to his belly and your lips move from his ear to his jaw. Chat tilts his head back and a frenzy of purrs emerge from his parted lips. He was aroused, in a state of euphoria even with your small, light touches. Your hand moved lower until it reached down to the tent he had in his suit. It was painfully tight for him. Your fingertips lightly brushed over the bulge and he cussed under his breath.

“Fuck.” He whispered while you continued to touch his clothed erection and lick up his neck. He kept purring and moaning at the same time. You loved seeing him worked up like this. Your lips latched on to a certain spot on his neck and you sucked on it harshly, nibbling at it when you got the chance and putting more pressure with your hand against him.

He was a mess, grinding against your hand and breathing heavily.

“Ma Belle – merde,” he couldn’t even speak without stuttering. “I want more, please.” He begs and you look up at him, noticing the red mark on his neck and feeling very pleased with yourself.

“More what, kitty?” You whisper and remove your hand from where it was.

He groans in frustration.

“More – I-I want you to touch me more.” He pleads. “Please.”

You smirk at him and pull him to your bed, pushing him back on the bed and getting on his lap. Before he could react you put your lips on his and start to grind on top of him.

He moans against your lips and throws his head back, holding onto your hips for support. You could tell that he wanted to take his clothes off but you wanted him to come right then and there.

Your hips move against his, the friction pleasing you the same, causing you to moan but grin at the worked up blond beneath you.

“Shit, shit I’m close.” He whimpers and closes his eyes, moving his own hips with yours to get more pleasure.

It felt so good but you knew you couldn’t finish with him, maybe you could continue after but your hopes disappeared when you heard the beeping coming from his ring.

“Mon Ange I-“

“Shut up and come for me kitty.” You groan out and quicken your movements causing him to part his lips and hold onto you.

His body shakes and he spews out cuss words in French while he comes undone, thrusting his hips up and whimpering.

You’re both breathing heavily, looking at each other both dazed and tired. You were about to lean in for another kiss but his ring starts beeping furiously.

You hop off of his lap and watch as he groans while he gets up, uncomfortably moving because of the mess he made between his legs.

“I’m sorry I cant finish you off.” He says, pouting at you.

“It’s okay Chat, I think you’ve done enough today.” You wink at him and he chuckles bashfully.

“Until next time Mon ange!” He says and opens the window.

“Bye Kitty.” You blow him a kiss and with that he’s off.

Maybe you could actually finish yourself off to the thought of him being a mess for you but before you could even do anything, your phone beeps and you see a notification from Adrien Agreste.

 “Did you hear that they moved the deadline for the Shakespeare essay? Pissed me off tbh.”

It was like he knew you accused him of something and to top it all off this was the first time he’s ever really texted you. It was weird but maybe you shouldn’t think much of it. Right?

#chat noir #chat noir x reader #adrien agreste #mlb #adrien x reader #miraculous ladybug

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

No i dont have a specific request. I just want Volturi King headcanons if you dont mind

i need feedback on these, i don't know how well i write for the kings

ARO:

he would be tempted to just read all your thoughts because he wants to learn all of you

but also he would be so fascinated by you that he would want to first get to know you by talking to you

you would spend countless hours talking to him

how you met: he'd been watching you in your village for many weeks. you were a medicinal herbalist, and the way plants responded to your care, he knew you would be magnificent as a vampire. but when he approached you he fell in love. he let you apprentice someone knew before he took you away. at last wish, if you will. you didn't want your village to suffer from your farewell, but you would go with him happily.

he would give you a few human weeks to adapt and understand how life in the castle worked, so you didn't have to learn the rules while also trying to overcome thirst & strength

in that time, he would host elaborate tea parties for you

filled with all the food & drink he used to love

he would watch you eat it with awe, enjoying the novelty of reliving his human days

heidi is your best friend; maybe it started with her undeniable charm, but she was so flattered when you started inviting her to do things over the phone, meaning you truly liked her for her and didn't feel compelled to hangout with her

when aro was too busy to do something with you, you would help heidi with her elaborate schemes

after your thirst & newbornism was under control he would build you an apothecary cabin somewhere hidden from the world

somewhere for you to spend your time fiddling with plants and herbs

you would have another apprentice, someone who to trained to take care of your garden while you were away

aro would dislike it whenever you tried to join the guard

"you are my beautiful spouse, not my guard."

"i can make the trees attack people. i control the trees my love."

he still wouldn't want it, he would want you to spend your time doing things you loved, not going on missions

he would want to hide you from the violence he ordered

he would make you a library, filled with books of herbs and plants and medicine for you to study

he would find you records and records of vinyl for you to listen to

he would try to give you jewels and treasures too often

you would often run up to him, smacking your hand somewhere on his body while talking about a pretty flower you saw

imagine just like open palm sticking your hand on his face and saying "look how interesting it is. look at the healing properties but also it's so cute!" with your hand covering half his face

CAIUS:

he would love you so much

and if you showed him any kind of affection back he would melt

how you met; you were one of aro's treasures. instead of letting your small coven face death, you went voluntarily. that kind of loyalty was something aro respected. you were someone with an amazing ability to calm anyone. to draw their fears out and replace it with euphoria, even while staring death in the face. aro loved you, loved the way you didn't feel bad about killing someone - just that they shouldn't have to feel afraid to die. also you didn't have to fight because your victim would stand calmly while you ripped them apart.

caius didn't want you on the guard, but you insisted.

"gives me somewhere to be while you're busy, my sweet."

felix has direct orders to protect you above all else (except the secret - of course) when you're on a mission

he would need you to love him and much as he loved you

but also he's a but of a grump

so he could be grumpy and still try to compliment you

"well don't you look just beautiful"

"remember how we talked about how things don't sound sincere when you say it like that."

anything you asked for would be his command to grant

and when you wanted to spend time with him, he would give you his full attention when he could

you would become good friends with demetri, and caius would hate it

not because he didn't trust you or demetri.

there were no secrets in Volterra...

but because after you'd spent too much time with demetri, some of his personality would rub off on you, and caius is a calm afternoon type of guy

one time during a pleasant walk through the garden you threw a water balloon at him

he stood frozen in wet robes as you laughed at him, jumping on his back and places kisses all over him

you brought out a little more fun in him, and while he looks like he hates it; he actually really appreciates it

MARCUS:

he was miserable before you

thousands of years of waiting to find his mate

but when you came, it was like a whole new marcus

he was still tired of being alive, but he now would rather live than leave your side

you will fill his senses with things he'd long since stopped appreciating

music sounded lovelier

flowers smelled prettier

poems had meaning again

how you met; you were brought in for questioning regarding an old travelling companion of yours. you offered the information to aro without a second thought, and he saw in your mind that you would never question, or stand against the volturi. marcus saw you in the throne room, and couldn't keep his eyes or thoughts anywhere else. you were exquisite. a gift to the eyes. he'd ask you to stay for a bite. and then he'd ask you to stay indefinitely. as a vampire it's pretty hard to find a home, so you accepted.

marcus would fill your days with things you enjoyed

walking through the garden, reading poems, watching movies

whatever you liked to do, he was eager to do with you

he was always worried about your safety

so he turned a professional mma fight into a vampire and gave him the order to protect you with his life

aro & caius thought it was excessive but... they didn't say anything

he wanted you to be happy with him

#twilight #volturi guard #twilight imagine #twilight headcanons #twilight headcanon #aro volturi #aro volturi imagines #aro volturi imagine #caius volturi imagine #caius volturi #caius volturi imagines #marcus volturi #marcus volturi imagine #marcus volturi imagines #headcanon #headcanons #volturi guard headcanon #volturi guard headcanons

[nerdwriting]

The Creative Directors Behind Fate: The Winx Saga Must Not Be K-Pop Fans

Also, they have a pretty wrong idea of the role fashion should play in a show.

There are a few words that will stand out across most reviews of Netflix's Fate: The Winx Saga - drab, boring, flop, flat, unimaginative. Critics and audiences consensus is that the show is not only a mediocre-at-best story, but also an atrocious (and ultimately confusing) choice of adaptation of the color pop and fairy magic cartoon it’s based on, 2004 italian cartoon Winx Club.

Fate has plenty of it's own issues - white washing and erasing characters, cringey dialogue, outdated melodrama, etc. But where it truly, unequivocally fails is as an adaptation. Fate misses everything that was magical and lovable about the original series, in all levels, from bizarre writing choices, - such as never actually developing any sense of friendship between the characters, who are based on a cartoon about…..a group…….of friends -, but it's especially and immediately felt in the art direction and costume design.

Winx Club is set on a fantastical world, Magix, where each of our main characters hail from a different planet, à la Sailor Moon. Alfea, the fairy school they attend, is the most common background: a pastel colored, futuristic high tech-meets-fantasy, art nouveau inspired castle. Alfea sets the tone for the whole visual of the cartoon: bright, colorful, futuristic meets vintage, leaning into the technological positivism of the Y2K style, uniting it with magic, DnD worthy monsters and, of course, fairy wings. Often featured are also the Red Fountain school, where the Specialists train, and especially Cloud Tower, the goth and gothic inspired witch school Alfea has an OxBridge rivalry with (How cool would that be in a live action? I guess we’ll never know…).

On Fate, Alfea is the only school we ever see, and it’s another beige boarding school in not-Britain, somehow set in a magical world where everyone has the exact same technology and even social media that we have on Earth in 2021, no transformations and, most egregiously, no fairy wings.

This lack of visual creativity is pervasive throughout the whole show, and its most heartbreaking iteration is in the characters' wardrobe. The styling has the barest bones of a color scheme, - such as 'Bloom has to only dress in red since fire, duh',- the clothes are ill fitting, bland, dark and very dated. These are supposed to be teenagers who enjoy fashion, and yet they look like varying types of soccer moms from 2010.

The series seems to operate on an old and tired vision that women and girls can’t have depth and have adventures and fight monsters while also caring about fashion, a vision that the original show played a big, big role in challenging in the early 2000's. Fashion and costume design sets as much of the tone of a visual medium as the script does; through clothes we can gauge characters’ backgrounds, passions, and personality.

Winx Club has some of the best examples of this in the cartoon sphere - Bloom’s comfortable and bright style, Stella’s glitzy and bold, Musa’s edgy and cool, Aisha’s sporty and fun, Techna’s neon and tech gear inspired, Flora’s earthy and romantic, they all work as extensions of each character and serve a narrative purpose. And that’s not even mentioning how insulting it feels that in their quest to make Winx “edgier, darker” and fit for an older audience, the creators of Fate somehow decided that was in opposition to caring about style and fashion. Most “girly” shows, including the Winx Club are just as much adventure action shows as the ones geared towards boys, and it’s emphasis in fashion, friendship and color does not detract from that. The original run of the cartoon deals with war, violence, grief, abusive relationships and even genocide; leaning into those plotlines would not require Fate to erase any integral parts of what made Winx so beloved, and the fact that they did shows that the Netflix team completely missed the point of fashion in the original show, and really, the point of fashion and costume design in the world building of any show.

That, however, is not a mistake K-Pop makes very often; (This might seem like a bit of wild swerve in topic, but stay with me here). Unlike it's western counterpart, the Korean pop scene never lost the emphasis on music videos and how the visual medium can complete and potentialize music and performance; the K-Pop culture is very album and concept oriented in a way that has been all but lost in many other pop circuits, and the music video, styling and set design of a ‘comeback era’ is a key point of excitement among fans.

As such, music videos that follow storylines, connected universes, boundary pushing concepts and visual effects are the norm, rather than the exception, and a list could be made of works that are beautiful examples of what a live action Winx adaptation could look like. In fact, and very smoothly, here is a small list of exactly that!

A Small List of K-Pop Music Videos That Are Better Winx Club Live Actions Than Fate: The Winx Saga

3. Red Velvet - Psycho

If it was a darker and more somber look that Fate wanted, there was a way to make it actually appealing. While it still feels a liiitle too grown up and elegant for Winx, (maybe this author is biased, as a full proponent for the Y2K fun) Psycho makes a very compelling argument for a witchy, mysterious, fairy tale-esque show that could look scrumptious and definitely not boring, or even a gorgeous example of what the witches in Cloud Tower could look like. Black and white, dark green, pastel blue and pops of jewel tones make Psycho's color palette. To add interest to the understated colors, the styling is heavy on textures; We see plenty of stonework, intricate embroidery, tassels, lace on lace on lace, feathers, bows, opera gloves and lots of glitter. All of that is offset by bold, dark makeup, leather accents and eerie cinematography. Needle & Thread, Marchesa Notte and Self Portrait lend their hyper feminine and intricately detailed tulle gowns, juxtaposed with the creepiness of the lyrics and the dark backgrounds; their deep berry and green fairy tale looks are built with pieces from Zara to Nina Ricci to Dolce & Gabbana to Alexander McQueen.

Red Velvet’s more edgy styling for 2018's Bad Boy would also not feel out of place on the Trix.

2. IZ*ONE - Fiesta

IZ*ONE kicked off 2020 with sweet and fun Fiesta. The MV features rooms with mismatched décor that go from retro to space opera, rocky faux landscapes that feel other worldly, and visual effects that would look perfect on the back of a transformation sequence. Mirroring the set design, the girls wear various outfits by sustainable up and coming brand Chopova Lowena. Their signature skirts made with discarded and repurposed fabrics give a cool and interesting twist on a schoolgirl look that would look very sweet for a band of school fairies that occasionally go off to save the world. Also, wouldn't those bedazzled headphones look great on Musa's fairy outfit?

1. Aespa - Black Mamba and Next Level

Aespa is what fans call a monster rookie. With only three music videos under their belt, they still have some of the most visually interesting work in the industry right now. Their concept is very tied in with high tech, featuring even AI avatars of each member, packaged in a glitzy, fantastical and futuristic aesthetic, candy pop meets cyberpunk. I think I’ve exhausted ways to say that is exactly what a perfect Winx adaptation should feature.

Their debut smash hit, 2020’s Black Mamba is truly a perfect moodboard for live action Winx. Wearing a sequined and colorful mix and match of Dollskill, Gucci, Didu and Balenciaga to a backdrop that features some alien fairy forest realness, a pyschedelic fever dream, rooms straight out of a Y2K catalog or donning lime green and black techwear inside a metro fighting the "black mamba", Aespa look through and through the part of fashion loving fairies who save the world together, while looking fierce, stylish and, most importantly, interesting.

The styling and the sets jump seamlessly from more casual colorful fits with blouses, shirts and baggy pants to barren, darkly lit backgrounds and fringe-and-glitter heavy pieces necessary to fight giant snakes, in a way so fitting to transformation outfits for magical girls we could cry.

In their third MV, 2021's Next Level, the cyber in their concept is taken up a notch (get it. because Next Level-), set to a futuristic urbanscape intersped with a planet made of crystals and the ocasional alien fauna popping up again. We get treated to Monse, The 2nd Skin Co., Johanna Ortiz and The Attico styled to fairy princess standards, sporty sky racers and a white and sequined group styling that is top ten fairy busy saving the world uniform material, or maybe even a specialist worthy getup.

This particular look from Ningning is so Techna that it almost feels as if it's mocking Netflix.

And doesn’t this Karina trapped inside the "black mamba" in Alexander McQueen feel like a perfect Dark Bloom moment?

These are only a few examples of interesting and creative designs that are in line with what a live action Winx Club should have given us. There are so many more I could list, even among other TV Shows, like Sex Education and even polemic dark Euphoria, that know how to have fun with style and design without losing the depth of their stories. In the end, it's hard to justify why Fate creators even wanted to make an adaptation that didn't even try to capture the heart of its source material, and all we can do is watch one more "Restyling Fate: The Winx Saga" video on Youtube whilst mildly dreading season 2.

#winx #winx club #fate the winx saga #fate: the winx saga #tv #tv/movies #cartoons #k-pop #kpop #red velvet #aespa #iz*one #fashion #costume design #art direction

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 2x9 thoughts

It’s no secret that I absolutely adore Coach Beard; he’s one of my favorite characters on the show, and he’s so well-written and well-acted that somehow I tend to be both perfectly satisfied with the details we see and truly curious to understand more about the way he thinks, what’s really happening re: his professional and personal devotion to Ted, where he comes from and where he’s going. I don’t need to know his name beyond the name he wants to be called, but I want to know why we don’t have any other names for him. And I don’t need him to be a bigger focal point of every episode, but I very much needed this episode’s world-exploding reminder that every single character on this show has a rich inner life, full of joys and troubles.

“Beard After Hours” is like a movie, but one that scatters its climaxes and puts off its resolutions...because it’s not a movie. It’s episode nine of a twelve-episode season of TV. When the episode ended, I felt this almost frantic “But he needed to break up with Jane for good before the end of the episode!” feeling. I was so pulled in by the idea of being able to tell an entire story in one night, of going on an odyssey alongside a complicated hero, that watching Beard and Jane find each other in that club felt as intense as the fact that we don’t know if Ted responded to Rebecca’s voicemail and we don’t know what’s going to happen with Rebecca and Sam and we don’t know who isn’t getting married and who is having a funeral in 2x10 (I mean, I have my strong suspicions, but still!) and we don’t know if Richmond will be promoted back to the Premier League. And on and on. I didn’t mind feeling desperate for the story to resolve even though I understood after thinking about it for ten seconds that of course it couldn’t resolve yet. Or ever. Or yet.

I’m a big fan of the TL episode recaps/reviews Linda Holmes writes for NPR, and I have to quote something from this week’s directly because it so perfectly explains my feelings:

The power of the scene where Beard dances in the club isn't that it's a beautiful romantic climax. It's that it's an explanation of why he cannot seem to extricate himself from this bad relationship. What makes the worst relationships so dangerous is that they have elements that feel good that are very hard to get elsewhere. Beard knows that; he tells it to God. What's concerning isn't that Jane makes the world seem more interesting; what's concerning is she's the only thing that does. That doesn't take away from the joy of the dancing; it just tells you that even happiness is complicated.

I love Holmes’ perspective here so much, because it articulates something I was struggling to figure out: how it can feel so legitimate, like such a (temporary but nonetheless powerful) relief, for Beard to find Jane in that club and to have this moment of euphoria as his night nears an end. How it is possible to experience that relief on behalf of a character while fervently wishing it could end differently, because it’s so clear from the abusive text messages and the toxic calls and the manipulative interactions that Jane is terrible to him and they’re terrible for each other. But Beard knows this. He knows it when he hugs Higgins in the parking lot after Higgins is honest with him in a way Ted and Rebecca and Keeley have not learned how to be, and he knows it when part of his prayer includes the clear articulation that Jane isn’t the cure for what “ails me.” He’s inching closer to greater self-knowledge just as Ted is.

And the two big resolutions that really, really needed to happen did. I didn’t know I needed Paul, Baz, and Jeremy to get to wrap up their own night out on the pitch at Nelson Road, but I did. It brought actual tears to my eyes. And the other resolution was Beard showing up with the other coaches’ coffees for their meeting to watch the game film. As interesting as it would have been to see what Ted would have done if Beard hadn’t shown up, I’m so, so glad that he did. He’s got a messed-up face and some truly epic pants on, but otherwise this is just Beard showing up for work, showing up for his friends. It was incredible to realize that Beard and Ted haven’t been exaggerating when they’ve referred to his sex-and-drug proclivities in the past. The night documented in 2x9 might have been particularly scary and violent and euphoric and awful and meaningful, but this type of all-night adventure isn’t a foreign concept for this guy. In all the other episodes of this show, when we see Beard we’re seeing someone who might have been out all night, who might have spent the hours the sun was down desperately pushing himself closer to whatever edges he could find.

I don’t really want to touch upon all the allusions in this episode. They are abundant, they are well-documented, and also I haven’t even seen the movie After Hours. I enjoyed this episode for its allusive qualities and I enjoyed this episode for what it was and I feel like I have to be at peace with the fact that I’m never going to pick up on every single reference on this show and that is okay.

So, yeah, if this entry on my tumblr dot com blog seems remarkably devoid of references and allusions, it’s not because I’m not into it but because I find it too overwhelming to actually write about.

Very into the Misplaced and Discovered box at the Crown and Anchor. (That’s what Mae wrote on the Lost and Found box at the pub, right? Whatever it is, it’s so funny.)

Beard hallucinating Thierry Henry and Gary Lineker was truly upsetting and a great indicator not only of how broken things are between the Richmond coaching staff right now but also how deep Beard’s self-loathing might go. If you’d asked me before Thursday if I thought Beard loathed himself, I would say no. That deepening of knowledge alone makes 2x9 worth it.

James Tartt and his friends in the alley. Such a nightmare. I go back and forth on how much of the night was real, and part of me has decided all of it is, short of the images of Henry and Lineker. (And even that is real to the extent that it was a way of articulating what was in Beard’s head.) But watching Beard in physical danger brought on by the same abuser who had him so upset in the first place. It was a lot.

I’m so excited that Paul and Jeremy and Baz got some spotlight this episode. It was so wonderful to see them out of the pub. I love that they ended up telling the Oxford snots who they really were. They got to see Beard going to bat for them and smoothing over the situation socially, and that actually made it more possible for them to end up being truthful about themselves. Because they have nothing to be ashamed of, and they deserved the magic of that night. (And for it to end on Nelson Road. Every feeling. Oof.)

I feel like I barely have anything to say about the trouser-mending lady or the many places Beard goes or his key-dropping or the nightmarish feeling of wanting to be home and being unable to be home. It all happened and we all watched it and again, it was a lot. But I do feel incredibly moved and fascinated by the fact that Beard very obviously still hasn’t been home when he brings in the coffee. He’s had to sleep at the club for Jane- and key-related reasons in the past, and this time it’s not that he’s slept there but it still feels like a kind of homecoming he was robbed of for the entire night. Ted and Roy and Nate are there. He’s gotten their coffee orders correct. Ted is growing and evolving (he wants to learn from what’s happened, he’s insisting upon it even when the others resist) but he’s done a really perfect (almost romantic in its loveliness) thing by presumably spending his evening following a breakdown of his own speeding up the game film to 10x speed and adding Benny Hill. Ted is not OK and Beard is not OK and Nate is not OK and Roy is pretty OK but could very easily be not OK because he’s just joined a coaching staff with a whole lot of not OK. But they all showed up.

I am very into the realism of the lights being off in the club other than the coaches’ office (@talldecafcappuccino pointed this out!), and the way we’re seeing their desks from a different angle because this episode is unfocused on Ted. It really added to the mindset of being hungover and exhausted and unable to go home or even to know exactly what home should be; even this warm, familiar place feels off even as it’s a relief to be back there.

I am excited to return to our regularly scheduled programming with the full cast of characters, but I really adored this episode for what it taught us about Beard and what it illuminated about the humor, pain, and complexity of each person who inhabits this universe. Beard may not be loud about his long-standing beliefs or about the things he’s learned, but there’s a lot happening in there and I appreciated getting to spend 43 minutes with him and (in the case of the ticket he scrawls on a piece of paper so the pub guys can get into Nelson Road) the moments he sets in motion.

#ted lasso #ted lasso s2 spoilers #ted lasso 2x9 #meta by me #a lesbian watches ted lasso #coach beard

[rcksmith]

Spring breeze part.2 — Spencer Reid

Gif by @ssadrreid

Sumarry: Spencer never thought about falling in love with someone, but he certainly didn't expect that he would fall in love with Gideon's daughter. — season 3 —

Part.1 Part.3 Part.4

A/N: I was very happy with the return you guys had in the first part💖. I hope you guys like.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️ Couple:Spencer Reid / Gideon's daughter!reader.

Warnings: nothing, just very fluff.

— — — — —

Spencer straightened his tie for the hundredth time in front of the mirror, in several unsuccessful attempts to exhibit his best that day. It was funny and ironic how, after so many years wearing dress shirts and a tie, the universe seemed to handpick that day to do - no matter how much Spencer tried to fix it - his tie looked weird. The fabric was too far to the left, or too far to the right, or too wrinkled in the folds. No matter how much he undid the knot or changed his tie, still looked strange.

What a nightmare.

Reid was barely able to sleep with the notion that he would see you today, his body being whipped assiduously by unsettling waves of euphoria, his mind whizzing like a propellant, anxiety screaming in his mind and sending his sleep for miles away. That morning, the world seemed to be more stuffy, hot and torrid, and for a second, Reid felt himself under the heat of Egypt instead of autumn in Washington.

He could feel his heart speeding up with the steps of the clocks, his breath running away from his lungs, a thousand and one speeches being revised in his head to try to lessen the likelihood of speaking some bullshit near you. Because he couldn't ruin that chance.

Spencer knew he was not the type of guy to have dates whit women like you every day. In fact, Laila had been the only stunning woman who had looked at him a second time. But, well, to be honest, he knew that all that affection she had directed him had been side effects of the transfer. He had been her hero and it clouded people's rationality. And, to his disquiet and to the dread of his insecurity, you were above the beauty of Laila on stratospheric levels.

To make matters worse, the damn tie wasn't good! God, he was screwed.

Spencer gave up on that impossible mission, settling for and conforming to what the tie looked like after the twentieth attempt. He wanted you to see him as a handsome person, a man worth wasting time with, not a boy who only served to be your friend. You were beautiful on so many levels that... well, Reid wanted you to be attracted to him, too, to simplify.

He stepped away from the mirror and slung his work bag over his shoulder, trying to control the pounding of his own heart.

On the way to work, trying hard to avoid thinking about what him looked like in that damned imperfect tie, Reid wondered, for a moment, if you too were under the same emotions. Did you change your clothes several times because you also felt anxious too? Could it be that, like him hands, yours also trembled? Or, if he was lucky, was your heart beating as hard as him?

He hoped that was yes.

As soon as he entered the BAU headquarters, with anxiety as his chaperone, Spencer sat at his own table while pouring a “Good morning” to his colleagues.

“Arrived early.” Derek narrowed his eyes at him, in that suspicious look.

"I am never late." He was quick to hit and that caused his friend to raise an eyebrow.

"But you never be anxious to get here earlier."

Sometimes Spencer hated that his friends were profiles.

“I just like my job.” Reid started to unpack things of bag, trying to avoid the look of Derek who was still burning his back.

“Oh, I'm sure you like.” The double meaning in his friend's tone did not go unnoticed by Spencer, but he did not want to delve into the truths of that argument, much less think about it.

Emily and JJ arrived after a few minutes, with Garcia following behind and making their point that she was not to blame for buying those pairs of shoes, since they were practically begging her to take them. Normally, Reid did not look at the glass door whenever he heard someone approaching, or had a strong desire to see Gideon pass through them as well.

But that day... that day, seeing Gideon meant seeing you. And seeing you meant that you would go through that door. And going through that door meant that Spencer would see you come in. That was enough to make his gaze turn to those doors from minute to minute.

But time passed. Fifteen minutes flew by, then twenty, then thirty. Anxiety increased and now his agitated heart was tuned to his right leg, which did not stop quietly, shaking from top to bottom assiduously.

“What do you look for at the door so much, Reid?”

Prentiss asked the last question that Reid would like to answer, and that caught Derek’s attention, who, as expected, laughed amusingly and sank further into the chair, a sly, playful smile on his lips.

“Oh, he is expecting a member of the Gideon family.”

Spencer swore and, in that moment, he was never so jealous of ostriches for being able to stick their heads underground. If he were one of them, he would definitely do it.

“I'm not expecting Y/n.” he said, whit voice higher and thin than usual.

“But I didn't say it was Y/n.” Derek laughed and Spencer felt his cheeks go red.

This time he gave up hitting back, his let out a bad mood murmur and turned forward, forcing himself not to look at the door anymore. From that moment on, Spencer focused on focusing on the pile of reports in front of him, forcing his brain to disconnect from the things around him and concentrate on matters that demand his all attention.

The hours went by, faster this time, the case-free day was being used to finish late reports and giving the team time to recover the nerves and breath of the last case.

After noon, Gideon still hadn't arrived and Spencer started to feel slightly fearful. He was about to take his phone out of his pocket and dial Jason when JJ appeared, handing over more piles of reports to they that required to be finished today.

Derek gave a loud curse of annoyance, muttering something and back to writing again. Emily was used to the paperwork bureaucracy, but from the bittersweet and dissatisfied look on her face, Spencer knew that no one there shared the same delight him had with paperwork. He also knew that Morgan was exhausted because he had remodeled a property yesterday and was barely could to sleep, and Prentiss felt overwhelmed because she was dealing with problems with her mother and with the bureaucracy policy that Strauss pressed against her.

Then Spencer looked at the file stack itself. There was a lot of paperwork, but the amount of reports he would finish in two minutes was three times what his friends would finish in an hour. He leaned forward, looking over the table to see Emily and focusing Derek better in his field of vision.

“Do you guys want to give some reports? I finish faster anyway”

They agreed without hesitating or pretending modesty. Reid laughed, saying that his friends would owe him one, and went back to work.

After that, when Spencer finished the reports and lifted his head from the paperwork, the light in the world had dimmed to a dark blue hue, streaked by small, bright stars.

The breeze coming in through the large glass windows was fresh and invigorating, the scent of the night's wonderful promises was reminiscent of your perfume. And then he realized that neither you nor Gideon showed up all day. Something about him withered, the euphoria diminished until it became as small as the stars outside. The clock struck seven at night when Spencer got up and put his things away, millions of feelings buzzing in chest.

The unsettling sense of concern began to take place than had previously to been emotions of anxiety and excitement, and he pondered whether to ask Hotch about Gideon or to call himself. Reid looked around, looking under his colleagues, who were packing up to go home, and going up to Aaron's office. He could still see his figure under the marble table, the light from the room underscoring the serious and concentrated expression he directed to the documents. The air in that room looked different, maybe more dense, maybe more serious. But Spencer knew it was best to let Hotch do his own thing.

He ran the tip of his tongue over the corner of lips, reaching into his pocket and reaching for his cell phone.

“Hey, Reid." he turned toward Morgan, that signaled them to go to the elevator.

“Did you speak to Gideon today? Or did you hear Hotch say something about it?” The question came after he reached Derek, both of them walking out the glass door.

"Is it Gideon you're worried about or... his daughter?” He laughs shamelessly, pressing the elevator button.

Spencer stumbles over the words when says: “Wh-What? No. I'm just worried about him. It has nothing to do with… ”

As soon as the sentence was about to end, the elevator doors open. Instead of the usual void or presence of someone from the FBI, Spencer felt catatonic when he saw the female figure inside.

You.

In a burst, like a strong wind that blows and pushes things away, Spencer was struck by all the feelings and sensations that had been bubbling in his stomach all day. Euphoria, anxiety, insecurity and... animation. Suddenly, he was worried again about how he would look, what he would say, if he was presentable enough for you to look at him with... Well, Spencer didn't know how he wanted you to look at him, but he wished it were something that guarantee your affection.

He wanted to be something that excited you, that made your heart race. Just like his was now.

"Y/n...” He did not recognize his own voice. The intonation.

"Hey." You smiled genuinely, and it was able to make Reid's heart beat so fast that he feared you could hear. “I'm sorry I didn't show up and neither did my dad.”

“No problem at all.” He was sincere “Did something happen? Are you two okay? ”

The concern in Reid's voice was so palpable that you losing your breath. God, that man couldn't be real.

“I just remembered that Garcia is call me." Morgan tried to swallow a big smile “It was good to see you, Y/n.”

“Me too, Morgan.” You gave him a hand gesture that, for Reid, was lovely.

Spencer put his arm in the elevator door, preventing it from closing.

“Will you want to leave?” Always as solicitous as a gentleman.

“Oh no.” Now it was your cheeks that were softly red. “I came to see you actually.”

If nothing that had happened before was not enough to steal Spencer's breath, your sentence completed the mission. He put himself in an elevator, pressing a button and letting the doors close.

"I was going to bring my dad today, but ... well” You laughed “To put it succinctly, my dad has a list of things he wants to do before he dies, and one of them was rollerblading”

You and Spencer laughed. Half because he would have laughed at anything you said to see your smile, and half because he couldn't see Gideon having such a list. But he liked it. The feeling of knowing that Jason was having fun, enjoying life, not letting that job rip off all of his humanity, was comforting, joyful.

“Why do I feel this is not going to end well?" He joked too and you laughed.

“Because it doesn't end.” Your fingers ran through your hair “We ended up going to a place that had this, before he have work today, and he ended up twisting his ankle when he fell.”

You tried to no laught, because it was not something to play with, but after the fright passed and your father and you were entangled, they both burst out laughing. And now, reliving that, you didn't remember the hurt itself, but how great the fun between the two of you had been.

“He is fine?" But Spencer had a worried flash in his eyes.

“Oh, yes, the doctor said there was nothing much. He just needs to get some rest.” You smiled “I was going to call, but one thing led to another and when I saw it, it was too late to call. So I thought about coming in person.”

Spencer was known to have a photographic memory and a very high IQ, but at that moment, if then asked what you had just said, he would need a moment to remember. For the only thing he was concentrating on at that moment was the certainty that your smile could light up the whole of Washington. How your eyes held the stars' syntax and how the energy that emanated from you was... cheerful.

He realized that you were a cheerful person, outgoing and with an innate ease of making friends. You had that special touch that made people and the universe orbit around you. And Spencer knew it was one of the planets captured by your gravity.

"It is very sweet of you to come here to tell me that.” He smiled, but then realized what he had just said “N-not that you owe me any explanation! I just-I think it's cool that you worried and…n-not that I waited for you but… not th-that I didn't expect you too and...” Spencer stopped talking, giving up trying to find the right words to get him out of the mess he got himself into.

At times like this, Reid was used to people just dropping an embarrassed nod and leaving, or ignoring the avalanche of things he said. But as soon as the tone of your laughter echoed through the elevator and snaked through him body like a wave of energy, Reid looked at you more closely. You didn't give that embarrassed look, nor did you look sorry for him. You laughed lovingly and touched his arm.

"I was also looking forward to seeing you.” You summed up all of him thoughts in one sentence and freed him from all fears.

"Serious?" But disbelief was still present.

The elevator door opened and the two of you got out, walking to the exit of the building and being greeted by the cool, comforting breeze of the night.

“Yea.” You said as if it were obvious, “What do you think about going to a movie? It's not too late. ”

If Spencer had been told a few weeks ago that in a few days he would be on a date with the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, he would have scoffed. He would have thought it was a joke with a background of evil. Going out with girls was not on the list of things Spencer did regularly, but he was thanking any confusion or mistake the Universe had made to accidentally placed you with him.

To be honest, with you on his side, with you with him, Spencer felt like he had won in life. That all those years of school and university, when he only saw beautiful girls from afar and dreamed of what it would be like to have one this girls interest in him, had dissipated into the air. Dissolved in the breeze like smoke. During all the hours of film, the joyful and ecstatic conversations you both had after, Spencer could feel the connection in the air. Naturally, kind of magical.

Did he know you two days or two decades ago?

You told all of your adventures, all of stories, and listened carefully to every ramble and phrase Reid had to say. He felt, for the first time, completely important. As if everything he had to say was valuable as a diamond, rare as a tropical treasure.

He felt comfortable, relaxed, cheerful.

And when, at the end of the night while the two of you were walking along the lively and vibrant streets of DC, you took his hand and intertwined yours fingers, Spencer never felt so alive.

He had been born twenty-four years, but only now did he really feel what it was like to be alive.

tagged: @gublersuvula @peculiarinsomniac

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #dr.spencer reid x reader #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #derek morgan #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg fluff #mathew gray gubler #mgg x reader

[bakatenshii]

Flushed

Dabi x Reader (BNHA)

word count: 5.1k

TW: 18+, smut, dub/noncon, drug use/abuse, corruption, virginity, (mild) blood

A/N: I am 12 days late for Sunny’s birthday, but my heart beats for one person and one person only— the light of my life, my wife @blahkugo​, who wrote me two (2!!) Shig fics for my bday Charity & Sludge, that I reread on the daily like the morning news. Cheeky shoutout to @thisisthehardestthing​ for writing one iconic sentence in here that I would have framed if I could. 

flushed

/fləSHt/

(of a person's skin) red and hot, typically as the result of illness or strong emotion.

cleanse (something) by causing large quantities of water to pass through it. 

Dabi doesn’t prowl for prey, he’s not on the lookout for fowl to take home for dinner. No, they come to him. It’s easy, always so obvious, he plucks them out like chicken in a hen house, ripe for breeding. 

It wasn’t hard to spot a desperate girl burning out, Hell, the campus’ full of them. But you had something more, something fun, something that made his lips quirk up and his dick twitch— you were uncorrupted. 

He can just tell, despite the airs you try to give, the aura of a virgin’s akin to an omega in heat to a starving alpha. Sweet, honeysuckle, the tiny flinches when a man gets too close, the breathy lilt in your voice when they propose something too risque; he inhales it all, commits it all to memory like you were desperately trying to do as you chewed on the tip of your pen and scratched out lines on the book in front of you. 

He didn’t need to push, you were already teetering the line, but he did it anyways— because it was fun. 

It was elating to watch you stumble into class the next day, eyes dark with sleepless anxiety, misery painted into every crevice of your features while your notes were tucked neatly into the drawer in his room. Really, you shouldn’t have left them so open on the lecture hall table, it’s like inviting a robber home and cooking him a three course meal. 

Finals season marked the end of your social life, and the beginning of Dabi’s career. It was almost boring, the repetitive nature of his job; too easy, too simple, a mockery of the entitled bookworms who look down on scummy repeaters like him. But the entitlement is what fuels him, over-achievers fearing for two simple digits on a crumpled sheet of paper as if it’s worse than death itself.

He thrives off of their stubbornness to accept anything below perfect; the hilarity of it all, the irony that their insurance to achieve higher standards than that of a scum like him only fuels his lifestyle, bringing him deeper down the depths of degeneracy. 

He sat behind you closer than usual, spoke a lil louder than usual, dropped in the most nonchalant comment about a study drug kids are crazing over these days. He watched as you flinched, hands stopped moving to listen in to the spiel he was spewing, the fishing hook he was dangling in front of you. 

A magic pill, one that’ll help you concentrate, kill any sleepiness, get you buzzed for hours on end— best of all, it’s totally legal, he gets it from a pharmacist, scout’s honour. 

That’s what he told you when you turned around to him at the end of class, whispering in hushed fear, nerves bouncing off your skin in goosebumps on your exposed arms.

Why he’s selling it? Because he needs some extra cash, he said. He knew you didn’t believe him, but he knew you were desperate enough not to care. 

When you met him in the dead of night at the empty carpark of his building, he knew he’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. No self-respecting girl would meet bottom-barrel trash like him in a deserted location at half three in the morning, no, you were untainted, but you weren’t pure.

He didn’t need to know it worked, doesn’t matter what your test results reflected, all that mattered was that you came back to him a few weeks later, met him at the same dingy carpark, hands trembling slightly less this time. 

He pretended to scold you, reveled in the way your lips curled into a soft pout, and warned you that tolerance builds fast. Do it in moderation, he had said— he’s the world’s biggest hypocrite. 

You came to him only a week later this time, and Dabi had pretended to be shocked. He wasn’t, he gave you a lower dosage the last time, there was no way you’d have been satisfied. Microdosing leads the unsuspecting to addiction, the one fact he learned from school. He lectured you, asked you if you’d built up tolerance too fast, if you wanted to try something different?

He watched as your eyes lit up, pupils dilating in excitement at the promise of something different, something better. It really was too easy. You were too easy. 

That night he invited himself over to yours, said he’d wanted to make sure you didn’t have any side effects. It was new, after all, and it was stronger. He’d sit there and be quiet, he promised; it was all out of the kindness of his own heart. 

It was almost embarrassing how eagerly you’d lie to yourself in hopes of a better grade.

Dabi wasn’t gonna do anything to you that night, trust takes time to build up after all. Besides, it’s no fun to pounce on the prey before they started running. You studied the nonsensical scribbling on annotated novels, he studied your tiny movements, twitches, nervous habits; etched them into his brain for future use. 

A too-long breath, a gasp, a clench of the fist signaled your come-up. He timed it, approximately thirty-five minutes for the initial peak, then smaller spikes at half hour intervals, totaling in four hours before you came down. Impressive, still, considering he’d given you the same dosage as the first time. 

He stuck to his words, staying quiet only until prompted, offered you water every once in a while, really, he deserved an Oscar for playing the best supporting dealer. It only took two more sessions before your tolerance peaked again, calculated and timed to perfection right before the next assignment.

The beauty of seeking out an English major was that they’re always searching, reaching into the void for any type of inspiration to translate into eloquently formed words. The beauty of seeking out you, was that you were already in too deep, hooked by the lil pills and plunged into the bottom of the ocean. 

Your grades rose while your inhibitions sank, a dramatic irony, isn’t that what they called it?

It’s cute, really, he only had to give you a nudge this time. Asked you how your assignment was going, played the sympathetic friend, and offered you something completely new, completely different. ‘Have you ever tried 2CB?’

Silly question, rhetorical, almost; of course you hadn’t. Innocent sweet girl like you never would’ve even touched weed, much less a hallucinogen. But he poses it to you in an eager tone like he’s genuinely waiting on an answer, like this isn’t just one big game to him. He laughed when you said no, asked him what it was— do you want him to show you?

You trust him, don’t you? He’s helped you through your exams, supported you through your assignments, honestly, he deserved a pat on the back. Don’t tell him you didn’t trust him, come on now, that’d break his heart. 

He didn’t expect you to put up a fight, but you gave in almost too easily, guess those lil pills really did migrate and nest in your bloodstream. 

The safety of your own dorm room was always granted to you, a faux-sense of security to veil you in, shield you from the true depth of depravity you’ve sunken to. He held you underwater in a net, ensuring you that he’d pull you up whenever— ‘just say the word.’

The net had long been cut, he’d admired the way you’d comforted down there, paddling aimlessly in hopeful conviction. 

It’s become routine, almost. Dabi lets himself in easily, settles into the couch across your desk, pulls out a baggy and passes it to you. “A psychedelic,” he explains, “you’ll see colours you’d never seen, find beauty in everything, an artist’s best friend,” if he does say so himself. 

He watches you pop the lil pill in your mouth, follow the stream of water pour down your throat, traveling the rips and divots of your tongue, before it drops down your throat into your bloodstream with a bob of your larynx. You’re so pliant, so obedient, he reminds himself to thank your parents for grooming such a cute lil doll.

You let out a loud gasp an hour and a half later, and he watches your fingers curl into themselves; and for the first time he speaks unprompted. 

“You good?” It’s almost genuine; the curiosity, at least. He wants to know how articulate you are, needs to know how deeply submerged your consciousness has become. 

He watches as you meet his gaze, little tongue dashing out to wet your lips, and nods once, twice, slowly. You shake your head almost immediately after, croaking out an, “I feel ill,” before pushing meekly at your desk to stand your body up. Cute, weak.

Just how he likes them.

He reaches an arm out to you, pulling you into his chest easily and nests your head into the crook of his neck. “Nauseous, aren’t you?” You nod, and he smirks. “Don’t worry princess, it’s just a rough come-up. I’ll make you feel better, I promise.” 

It’s almost believable, how sickly sweet he sounds. Too many sitcoms accumulated in recycled dialogues to woo girls in any situation; mix and match, simple yet effective. 

He can feel the restless rise and fall of your chest pressing against his, short quick pants as if gasping for air, a small hand scraping at his arm; yeah, you’re definitely coming up. 

He picks you up and nestles you into your own couch, so easily as if handling a ragdoll, then walks to the kitchen and pours you some water. The perfect friend, the perfect support, the perfect dealer. You’re so vulnerable, so exposed, you don’t even know it; it makes his brain fog over with carnal desire to pounce— but he doesn’t. Not yet.  

He lays back on the couch with you, arm snaking around your shoulder to coax you into a subdued euphoria. All the words he’s garnered throughout the years of fishing for his next meal come bubbling out so naturally in practiced scripts, “It’s okay princess, it’s a stronger pill. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.” He’s promising a whole lot, tonight. 

“Hey,” he tips your face to meet his with all the tenderness of a lion stalking its prey, “I’m here, right? You trust me, don’t you? I’ve never let you down. I’ll never let anything happen to you.” 

It’s hard to force down the gagging noise on cue with his disgustingly fake, rom-com lines, but the way he can feel your body loosen, relax, and mold into his tells him he’s close. So close. 

This is the best part, this is what he’s good at; the last stretch of patience while stalking his prey, with footsteps so light, treading so carefully, until the air slows down around him and he can taste your scent wafting through the air.

It happens in an instant, a whole-body jolt as you tense up, euphoria announced with a sharp gasp. The smile that crawls up his face is nothing short of sinister, predatory, but he knows you don’t notice. You can’t. Your eyes are strewn shut, basking in the high, and he takes the moment to swallow the pill he’s held under his tongue. 

It’s no fun to tripsit, he doesn’t get anything out of that, and Dabi doesn’t do things for free. He feels your head fall back onto his shoulder, short breaths warming a ripple of goosebumps up his neck, and watches as you push your heavy lids open to gaze at the ceiling.  

He can feel your giggles reverberating through his chest before he hears them, innocent, pure, unsuspecting. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, because virtuous girls like you like to be treasured, made to feel special, safe— he can make you feel safe; no one’s told him not to play with his food before he eats it. 

He watches as you flutter your eyelids at him, sigh into his touch, really, you’re the textbook prototype, he doesn’t even need to adjust his tactics. “You feelin’ good?” A hot breath into your ear, and he revels in the way your lips pout to let out a soft sigh. 

Funny how differently you react when you’re high out of your mind, maybe it’s the drug, or maybe it’s just Dabi? You’ve always wanted a bad boy like him, didn’t you? Good girls like bad guys; it’s textbook cliché, and you’re the blueprint. 

He doesn’t wait on an answer, he knows it: you’re feeling good, great— divine. He’ll be right there with you soon, he promises.

“Tell me what you see, princess,” Dabi’s not listening when a cascade of nonsensical descriptions come bubbling out, he doesn’t care. It’s all to get you to keep talking, shift your attention elsewhere while his hand slithers down your arm to play with the hem of your shirt.

At the first brush of his finger on the bare skin of your waist, he feels you purr into him, eyes rolling back in bliss. It’s his cue to give you more, invitation for him to snake his other hand up your naked thigh and knead the flesh gently. 

Gentle does it, he’ll bring you higher as you go. 

He ghosts a breath just under your ear, nipping at your lobe, and admires the full body shiver tumbling through. Moans, loud and needy, come panting out past your lips and echoes off the walls before bouncing back to him. He lets you symphonize short breaths and whiney pleas with each lick and suck traveling down your neck, painting blooms of purple and red as his hand travels dangerously high. 

A firm grip is all the warning he gives you before he tucks his fingers into the crease of your thigh, laughing almost at how obediently you spread your legs. What happened to that pure, innocent girl? Guess under all that laid a dirty whore, just like the rest of ‘em. 

It was slick, so wet, pussy dripping past the delicate lace and drooling over his fingers. Lace, befitting of a slut who lured him in with the fake charms of a virgin. He slides a finger down your slit, gathering up all the juices before presenting it to you. 

“What do you see?” He holds up his finger, slick dripping down like syrup, and watches your pupils dilate in effort to focus. He can see the way your lips part, string of saliva connecting the two soft molds, before gasping out, “melting ice cream.” 

“Want a taste?” 

You clamp over his finger before he even asks you to, sucks on the digit like it’s a melting ice lolly, before your eyes shoot open and mouth twists in disgust. Of course it doesn’t taste nice, normal food isn’t even edible when you’re rolling like this. You’re sticking your tongue out, in an attempt to air out the taste, or maybe you’re just a dumb dog, a dumb bitch, he’s not sure. He doesn’t really care. 

The same hand, now slick with saliva, grips your chin and crashes your lips into his. His tongue finds yours first, tip licking up the crevice of yours lolling out, and he sucks it into his mouth like it’s a crime for it to be kissing the air. 

There’s no modesty, no gentleness, his tongue pries your lips open, and he feels the weakest form of resistance before he’s thrusting the muscle down your throat. He lapping over the back of your teeth, traces over each bump and rugae on the gummy sides, and snickers at your shit attempt to kiss him back with your slack mouth drooling out the corners. 

He feels a pawing at his arm— your hand meekly grabbing at the sleeve of his shirt to bring him in closer, press his chest into your soft tits, crowd him into you more, more, more. 

It’s cute; it’s stupidly desperate. 

He gets it though, it’s no worries. Human nature is all it is; the desire to climb higher and higher— he wonders if he can get one out of you before the pill hits him. 

There’s no gentleness in the way his hand slots between your legs and cups your dripping cunt this time. He wishes he has more time to admire the way your legs quiver and twitch with every firm pat against your clit, but he’s on a time crunch. There’s so much time to spare, he can play with it all he wants later.

He can feel your needy moan vibrate through his lips and reverberate straight into his brain, sloppy mouths working simultaneously together and against each other as he rips your panties and shorts off in one go. Any self respecting girl would shut their legs in shame, in embarrassment, any attempt to protect their dignity, but you don’t. He doesn’t let you, anyways. 

A hand moves under your shirt to roughly grip at your tits in the same breath he sinks a finger into your sopping hole. Inhale; squeeze, thrust, exhale— you moan. It’s tight, as tight as a virgin pussy should be, but not too tight that it fights against the foreign digit ramming into it at a relentless pace too rough and quick to befit an unexplored hole. 

He can feel the pulsing around him, gummy walls milking his finger for all its worth, and he digs his palm into your swollen bud; it’s all he needed for you to come undone. You don’t squeal, you don’t scream, the 2CB in your system rendering you incapable of anything except long breathy sobs of his name. 

His finger pops out with a wet squelch, and he brings it to his mouth to taste it; tarty, thick— he’s still sober. You’re blubbering out drivel about the stars you saw, the colours swirling around at the peak of your euphoria, you think you saw God— is Dabi God? 

Dabi had to laugh, pat you on the head with his hand covered in syrupy slick, watch it leak and clump your strands of hair. He picks you up with your shorts and panties drenched through dangling at your ankles, and walks you to your bed.

You don’t notice, still basking in the afterglow; he knows this. Not that you’d push him off, tell him to stop. Not in your state anyways. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. 

He drops you once the bed’s in frame at the same time he feels his pulse rise, heart palpitate, and a wave of nausea threatens to bubble over. It doesn’t; he doesn’t let it. An experienced veteran would never. It’s a welcomed sensation, one he’s all too familiar with, and he gives himself a brief minute to breathe it in, savour it, before glancing back down at your limp body on the bed. 

Is it your body? He can trace your silhouette from the dip of your waist, the full of your hips, something glistening, gleaming in the light— your pretty little virgin cunt. His eyes roll back at the next inhale before he finds himself landing on the bed on top of you, forearms digging into the soft mattress of your bed. 

He hears your voice singing into his brain, soft lulls of his name stringing out in DabiDabiDabi— the desperation and need shooting straight to his cock, he doesn’t even need to look down at your soft pliant body, welcoming him, inviting him in. 

“Feels good, yeah?” His voice comes out rougher than usual, low and strained, and laughs at how eagerly you nod, watches your chin catch the air and paint strokes of colour following the route it takes, “Who makes you feel this good?” 

He knows, he knows because it’s all you’ve been able to say the past while, the only word on your mind that you can even blubber out— 

“You, Dabi,” your pants grow heavier; his pants grow tighter, “it’s you Dabi, please—“

A hand reaches up to cradle his cheek, your soft, uncalloused, hand, and he grips it by the wrist before bringing it up to his face. He traces every line that curves and meets on your palm with his tongue, letting it be covered entirely with drool before wrenching it down under his joggers and into his boxers to cup his aching erection. 

His hips rut into your palm almost immediately as a knee-jerk reaction, every hump into your tiny hand has him panting into your face, sweat beading at his temples. His tongue drops down to lick at your lips, asking for entrance, begging for access. Your lips might’ve parted just a fraction, maybe just to let out a breathe, but Dabi takes it as permission to thrust his tongue in and prod at your dormant one.

He can feel you gag at the sudden intrusion, throat convulsing to push back the unfamiliar slimy muscle, and he briefly considers yanking your hand out and shoving his cock down that pretty little mouth of yours. 

But he doesn’t, because he doesn’t have the patience. He needs it urgently, needs your tight virgin cunny stretching and agonizing over his overbearing size, needs to feel the flutter of the gummy walls with each thrust; he needs it bad, he needs it now—

Your hand is wrenched away as he yanks both waistbands down to his thighs. He looks at you, eyes blurring through kaleidoscopic vision, and makes out your disoriented gaze staring back at him. Disoriented with toxins, disoriented with need, lust, desperation— a hand reaches behind Dabi’s neck and pulls him back down to crash bruised lips together. 

It’s all the invitation he needs, not that he needs it, no, what he needs is to sink his painfully hard cock into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. There’s a faint squealing coming from underneath him, and he thinks he can feel nails digging crescents into his nape, but all he can feel is your warm, wet walls clenching around him. 

There was no need to prepare you for any longer, there’s no point if he doesn’t stretch your virgin pussy out with his own cock; it’s wasted on fingers, his fingers don’t deserve to feel the way you walls quiver and contract around it. The pitched cries stop eventually as he feels your body go pliant and soft, and he has half a mind to realize you’re probably starting to come down soon.

He doesn’t wanna deal with that, you won’t be sober for another few hours, but you’ve peaked already, and not with him; that’s not fair, that’s no fun. His cock stills inside you with half still unsheathed and he reaches down into his pocket to take out a baggy of powder. There’s a spoon in, thank fuck, and he feeds a small bump right up to your nose. 

“Inhale,” he slots it right up your nostril, “it’ll make you feel good, didn’t you feel good?” Your head lowers to nod, bumps the edge of the spoon right into the cartilage of your nose, and inhale. Good girl. 

The baggy is tossed haphazardly before he’s working his dick into you again, cockhead pushing through the doughy walls in search of that pocket at the end of your pussy.

You don’t struggle anymore, instead clinging onto his shoulders and carving half-moons into the flesh. It hurts a lil, and Dabi doesn’t like it when it hurts, not when he’s the one hurting.

He snatches your hands off him and pushes them above your head, into the plush forgiving mattress. His teeth are back on your neck, biting over the ripples of purple and green and red and blue, reveling in your cries and moans that come out in symphonies. 

It feels good, great— divine, it’s what he deserves for bringing you to Nirvana. He’s basically your muse, after all, how can you truly describe rapture without experiencing it first? 

He can hear your moans ringing out from underneath, can see them traveling in the air in hues of reds and pinks and reds and reds— there’s red on your bedsheets, of course there is. He forgot that’s what comes with a virgin cunt; blood, mixing with the translucent coating his cock, dripping down and painting the crisp white sheet red, drifting into the air and congesting the whole room with red. 

He inhales the colour, sucks it into his lungs, and uses it to fuel the pistoning of his hips. Your breaths turn to pants, turns to sobs of his name leaving your lips again, and he thinks you look good, so good, taking his cock like this. You should thank him for bringing you to your second orgasm. 

Just look at you, crazy isn’t it? Crazy what a lil pill can do. But he’s got something better, something so much better, something that’ll bring you to a new dimension. You want that, don’t you? C’mon don’t be shy, Dabi will bring you right there, don’t you worry.

There’s still the faint cries from your orgasm when he flips you over and pushes your face into the untainted sheets. He watches as your hands sprawl up to grip and grasp at something, anything, and his hands ease up on the hold on your skull for a second to let you wheeze and greedily gasp for air.

He flickers a trail of blue down your back, watches the flames dance and rage in a mirage, every bouquet indented by the ligament of each tender rib, and there’s a faint scream. The pitch rises with the flames, taunting it to go higher, faster, paint murals in every swell of your back until he can’t see anything except ash coal char. 

Dabi blinks, squints his eyes as he throws his head back to focus on the paint chipping on the ceiling. It cracks and crinkles, shying away from his pointed glare, before he sucks in a deep breath and looks back down at you. 

There’s no ash, no char, only warm tanned flesh, pressed flush against the pristine white sheets underneath. It burns against the pads of his long fingers splayed out across your back, and he winces in annoyance at the irony.

You don’t seem to notice his pause, too fucked out or fucked up to register what’s going around you probably. A mixture of both; Dabi can’t really remember what he’s given you or how long he’s been there. 

He can’t decide if he wants to stay there anymore,  can’t make out the pros and cons of either. He counts them off with each painful yank of your hair, each harsh thrust into your abused virgin cunt— it was that, wasn’t it? 

He was there because he sniffed out a cute lil virgin, one so untainted and untouched, one begging for him to corrupt. He’s not known to be very generous, but sometimes he gets into one of those moods; it can’t be helped when there’s a desperate doll waiting to be torn apart. 

He knows what you want, can read you with his eyes closed— you don’t need eyes to feel the pulse of a greedy cunny; it clenches with every slap of the face, damn near clamps down entirely as his slender fingers slither around to the front of your throat.

Two fingers shove past your lolling tongue and yanks your head back by the digits hooked on the corner of your mouth. There’s drool, and spit, and so many fluids coming and entering all at once— and then you’re coming, again, probably, for the third time that night. Fourth? 

It’s methodical, straightforward, he reads the instruction manual once, maybe twice if the first one’s a bit faulty, and he’s got it down to muscle memory.

At the sound of heaving he looks back down again, admires the feel of two of his fingertips fucked straight into the back of your throat, and pushes down on the rugged gummy wall. You gag, and he laughs. It’s cute, so cute, you’re real cute, you know?

“Such a good lil whore aren’t you?” He digs his nails into the flesh of your hip and rams his cockhead until he can feel the kiss from your puckered cervix. “All fucked out of your mind, bet you can’t even hear me, can you?” 

He watches as you gurgle out words past his fingers wedged down your slack mouth, and choke on the pools of saliva drooling out. It’s the funniest sight, fascinates him to death, really. 

A slap to the face might bring you out of your daze, so he slips his hand back out of your sloppy mouth and revels at your body propelling forward straight into the headboard. He grasps at the tips of your hair and wrench your body back towards him before any satisfying impact could sound out. It’s a shame, but concussions are not in his agenda. 

“Been fucked so loose, filthy slut can’t even keep your body up,” he rolls your hair around his hands and yanks back until your skull meets his chin; it’s excruciatingly painful, probably, and that’s why it’s the best. 

It’s the perfect way for your mouth to fall open naturally, to scream, squeal, fluster around in attempt to be freed from the position— it creates the perfect hole for him to spit in. He watches as your face contorts in disgust, tongue pushed out to let his spit drool out the sides, but that’s no fun, not very nice of you, is it?

“Swallow,” he assists you with an extra hard thrust, and you choke on the moan coming out. His hand comes forward from your hip to rest under your chin before pushing it up so it clamps shut, “I said, swallow.”

Your eyes flood with tears that waterfall down your face, and God, he thinks you look the best like this— wrecked on his cock, body littered in purple and red, covered in sweat and blood and cum; his perfect lil cocksleeve, just for him. 

It’s emotional, almost— religious, even, he can feel the palpitations in his heart thumping against his chest echoing off the headboard banging against the wall, and lets the euphoria consume him, wash over him as he coats your walls with hot ropes of cream and white, hips stuttering with your greedy cunny fluttering and clenching around it, milking and sucking in his cock in deeper, deeper, more.

He thinks you might’ve cum, might still be cumming, but all he can hear is the Messiah calling for him, choir singing lulling him into an infinite jubilation; he closes his eyes to bathe in it, let himself be cleansed and washed over with ecstasy. 

When he pulls out, your body flops onto the mattress, and he watches as white dribbles out your quivering hole, mixing with the red on the sheets, creating a puddle of pink and magenta, before passing out in the fuschia.

#dabi x reader #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #tw: drugs #tw: corruption #tw: blood #dabi #I’m not gonna tag it to oblivion bc it’s not gonna show up in the tags anyways lmao #it do be like that #o well!! #first official smut!! #ahHHH penis in vagina action is so intimidating #its so SCARY #HOW DO YALL DO ITTTT #hennyways this is for my wife and my wife only #rc is a bit more specific this time! bc I wrote it FOR her <33: #i hope its still ok tho genuinely #12 days late but ;; better late than never? #my tryna think of all of her kinks and literally shoving them into one fic #wife tings #birdz nd da bee #da bee to my hawks #iwachan to my shittykawa #spf50 #I LUV U SUNNY #MY HEAR T BEATS FOR ONE PERSON AND ONE persoN ONLY #baka no sakubun

[johnkrrasinski]

be my baby; 

full masterlist

Pairings: bucky barnes x camgirl!reader (modern au)

Word count: 1,834

Warning: SMUT. sexy times, cuss words, masturbation, (female & male). MUST BE 18+ 

Summary: you were a camgirl and bucky barnes was your favorite regular client. what happens when you realized you were catching feelings? 

a/n: this one’s written for @candy-and-writing​‘s 1000 followers writing challenge. congrats girl! i chose the prompt “you’re fucking beautiful.” 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

The screen of your laptop lit up, illuminating the dimmed room you were unchaperoned in. The ringing tone reverberated, waiting for you to accept the call, and the familiar face and those sapphire blue eyes emerged.

"Hey there, handsome." You coquettishly whispered.

"Hey, baby. You ready to make daddy feel good tonight?"

"Yes, daddy. I’m always ready for you." You writhed for the man on the screen.

Bucky had been one of your regular clients for three months now and he was irrefutably your favourite. Those hypnotizing blue eyes and that deep gravel voice, especially when he went into the full commanding mode, mandating you to please him; that smug look on his face when he triumphantly made you roll your eyes to the back of your head, and the way his gentle words would soothe you afterwards made you wish he was right there in the same room as you instead of being linked by internet access. Sometimes you'd think that you were falling for the man, but the stringent voice in your head would quickly clear those daydreams away saying, "no! you gotta be professional. He probably has a girlfriend or a wife in real life." (and you swear you didn't hear your heart fracturing at the thought)

"Good girl. Always so obedient for daddy, huh?" you nodded. "Now take off that bra and those panties, then lean back and spread your legs wide for me."

"Yes, daddy," you followed his orders; spreading your legs wide, putting each on the sides of your laptop, giving him a full display of your glistening cunt.

"Such a pretty cunt. Now, rub that clit for me, c'mon."

You slowly slid your fingers down from your bare chest, to your belly and then to the spot that he wanted you to touch. You made a circling motion on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You shut your eyes as you let yourself relish the pleasure. You whimpered with your mouth open and bit your lip to suppress it.

"Play with your tits baby." Your other hand move to your breast and you groped the globe and then you pinched the nipple. "Yeah, just like that. God, you're so fucking beautiful." You moaned at the piquant sting, and you rubbed your clit more furiously as you felt yourself getting more soaked. You felt the familiar bubble forming in your abdomen ready to burst in seconds.

"Can I cum daddy, please?" You whined as you kept playing with your breast and fingers nudging the bud.

"Not yet babygirl, now insert two fingers inside that cunt."

You did as he said, and shoved two digits through your tight entrance and you moved them in and out as you felt your fingers getting drenched, the squelching sounds elevated the eroticism in the scene.

"Keep one hand on your sexy tits baby, yeah fuck that cunt for me."

As you shut your eyes once more, trying to focus on stroking the spot that pushes you to the edge every time, you heard the sound of him unzipping his pants, and he pulled down his boxer to his thighs, just enough to let his massive cock spring free.

His fingers circled around his shaft, pumping himself up and down, as he kept his sight fixated on you, watching every movement you make, the way your face contorted in pleasure and your brows furrowed, and euphonious sounds escaping your lips, it riled his cock more and more, getting it as hard and as stiff as a rock.

"Goddamnit, you're so fucking gorgeous." He grunted through his ragged breathing. "Think of my giant cock destroying that cunt, using you like the dirty little slut you are." His words caused shivers cascading your spine, as you envisioned being pinned underneath him with you ass up in the air and your face squeezed to the pillow.

You squirmed as your cries grew an octave higher, picturing his hands wrapped around your throat as he pounded into you vigorously from behind, not giving you any mercy or repose.

"Gonna fuck you until you're braindead until you can't do anything else but beg for my cock to make you cum like a whore." You picked up the pace, shoving your fingers relentlessly and thrashed around on the sheets.

You felt yourself clenching around your own digits, the tightening coil was seconds away into plummeting you into bliss. "Oh god, please, I'm so close daddy, please!" You pleaded through your ragged breathing as you arched your back.

"Beg louder, baby."

"I need to cum now, daddy! Please!" Your heart pounded against your ribcage, a common aftereffect from your sessions with Bucky.

"Attagirl. Cum for me babygirl, show me what a dirty little whore you are for me."

A few more vehement onslaughts and your abdomen convulsed. Your orgasm erupted, clouding your brain with euphoria, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Your body shook as your cries echoed on the walls of your room.

Bucky was still running his hand up and down, reaching his own impending climax. He felt his cock twitching and in a few more pumps, he shot out ribbons of his thick load all over his stomach. He growled as he envisioned painting your womb white with his seed, burying himself deep inside you until every last drop was stored.

He threw his head back and cussed in front of the camera. It was truly a magnificent sight. Man, Bucky knew what he signed up for in the first place and that every girl on this website would keep it strictly professional and online but, the number of times he’d fantasized about taking you on a date to a nice restaurant and then bring you home afterwards to fuck you against the bathroom wall or in front of the mirror all night long would easily give you a reason to kick him out or conclude any sexual engagements with him in the future. Bucky was too madly infatuated with you to risk it.

You were the only thing he looked forward to after a long, dull day at work. You had an edge around you that just pulled him in like a magnet, once he had a taste of you, he was addicted. And he hadn’t even physically tasted you yet. God, he could imagine just how sweet you would taste on his tongue. But you were also capable of being the ideal submissive that he desired. Those doe eyes looking at him through the lens and the way you’d bite your lip innocently, teasing him like the devil. It drove him nuts. And he only longed for more.

Bucky always thought that he wasn’t the type to settle down in a relationship but, if he were, you would exactly be the type of girl that could make him change his mind. Sometimes within the one-hour sessions that he had with you, he would tell you about his day and get all the tension of his chest to you and you would be an excellent listener, always paying attention to every word and never failed to making relieve him of the stress. Along the way, you both felt like you had known each other better than most people that you interacted with in real lives.

Was he catching feelings for you? No, no, no, for fuck’s sake, get it together, Barnes! She only saw you as another of her client!

The thought of you exposing every inch of your body to other men and women caused an extreme detestation in him and it was bugging the hell out of him.

“You did good, babygirl.”

“Thank you, daddy. Do you feel good?”

“Absolutely.” His smile was warm, a contrast to the one that would show when he was tormenting you.

“Do you wanna talk about your day, daddy?”

“Nothing new. Just another boring day at the job.”

“Well, at least mine is the complete opposite.” You winked at him.

He chuckled, amused by your witty remark. Then it was quiet for a few seconds.

“Babygirl, I’ve been thinking…”

“Yeah? What is that, daddy?”

“I know I agreed that we’d keep it strictly professional but, goddamnit, I can’t get you out of my mind for the last few months now. And you’re just… God, you’re fucking amazing. So I was wondering, would you like to meet up? I’ll take you on a nice date, and I’ll pick you up wherever you are.”

You were tongue-tied. You’d always thought that Bucky was never interested to see you in person. You always wondered about him, composing fiction in your head, every night before you drift into a deep slumber, based on all the data that he decided to share with you. You always imagined about kissing him, being on your knees for him as you wrapped your lips around his manhood, and using your body like a ragdoll. Because that’s the only place where you could touch him and feel him.

And now here he was, asking you if you were interested in meeting him in person and go on a date with him. You know that when you first applied for this job, you vowed to yourself that you’d keep it strictly professional and that you’d never let your feelings defeat your common sense. But those oaths were disrupted since the day this job introduced you to Bucky.

You couldn’t decide whether you were grateful or woeful for that.

But now you knew that it was the former. Because everything you had dreamt of for the last three months came true and you were bubbling with joy. You were ecstatic, like a girl who had just been asked by her crush to go to prom with him.

“Yes, yes daddy! I wanna go on a date with you.”

“You serious?” His expression was elated.

“Yes! I’d love to know you more, daddy.”

“Oh man, I should’ve been more prepared, so… How about you give me your number and text me your address later? This Saturday, 8 PM. Sounds good?”

“Yes, daddy. It does.”

“Alright. God, I can't fucking wait to see that beautiful face in person… Oh and by the way, you don’t have to call me daddy when we’re not getting each other off, baby. You can call me Bucky. I love to hear the sound of my name rolling off your tongue.”

“Okay, Bucky.”

You exchanged number before you ended the session and you instantly texted your address. What an odd coincidence it is that you both lived in New York. He worked at Wall Street and he reminded you that he was going to be at your front door at 8 PM this Saturday. You were jittery, anticipating for the weekend. You didn’t know if he was going to be as wonderful as he seemed to be in real life or if the date would lead to something more between you, but one thing that you knew for sure was that you certainly needed to shop for a new dress.

#candys1000writingchallenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan

[txdoroki]

Hello ^^~

May I request Todoroki, Bakugo, Midoriya and Denki's reaction to the readers confession? In which they also have a crush on the reader? 💜

hi! yes ofc,, sorry it took so long for me to get back to you! been busy >,<

since it’s so long it’ll be under the cut :^

include todoroki, bakugou, midoriya, denki, kirishima :P 

might do a pt 3, lmk what characters yall wanna see ^-^

part 2 has been done

words: 1696

not edited btw i wrote this at 4am lmk if something doesnt make sense and i’ll fix it ahhhhhhhhhh

todoroki would be like 0-0 the entire time.

“hey todoroki, wanna go out on a date with me? we could go to the movies or wherever, it’s your choice,” you smiled up at him while he walked beside you, carrying both of your bags of schoolwork and books while he stared off at the road in front of you both.

he had always made an effort to do small, caring things for you. he’d hold the door, carry your books, or walk you home after school among many other things. you didn’t think much of it, you’d both been friends for a while, so you figured he was just being kind. no, no that wasn’t it.. he was just bad at showing he wanted to be more than just kind. more than just your friend from a while ago.

he was taken aback by your question, and internally cursed at himself for not asking you weeks ago. 

“um, todoroki?” you softly shook his arm when he seemed to have zoned out on the ground, but your bright smile didn’t fade. he adored that from you, he loved how eager you were to spend time with him. to talk with him. to try and learn about him. to do anything at all with him. you were so sweet and understanding, always. 

“oh, yeah sure,” he nodded at you, glancing down at you from sheer nervousness that you’d be laughing at him. that it’d be a prank. 

when you picked up on how on the edge he seemed to be, you leaned into him a bit, a goofy attempt at ensuring you wanted to go and it wasn’t a forced thing.

“you know, i’ve liked you for a while,” you grinned at him, winking when you saw his eyes quickly flash between content and joy. 

“me too,”

bakugou would be like ??!??!?!?!?!?!!???!?!!? who???? me??!?!?!?!?!!?? how??!?!?!?!?!?! screaming internally but on the outside like duhhhh

“hey, bakugou, i have a crush on you, by the way,” you whispered in his ear from behind the beanbag chair he was seated in. him and denki were in the middle of a wii tennis match, mina, sero, and kirishima all focusing on it to see who won.

“what? fucking dumbass, hold on a sec,” he scoffed when you ran your hair through his hair, ruffling it while he tried batting your hand away with his free one.

he tried to maintain focus on the match, lowkey trying to impress you with him winning. it was difficult, his mind kept drifting off to you and your cute face and your cute- back to the game, he’s gotta win. for you. after what felt like forever, he finally won, then dragged you out of denki’s dorm.

 “ooo sneaky link?” you heard mina giggle, and the three boys that remained in the dorm roared with laughter.

it got louder when bakugou screamed over his shoulder as he took you by the hand away from the dorm, “fuck off, extra, hell no,”

once you were both out of earshot he smirked, “so, you think i’m hot?” he rolled his eyes when you giggled and nodded, and a blush covered both of your faces, “well, you’re okay, i guess,”

“so when’s the date?” you smiled at him, chuckling when he pulled out his phone to check his fucking calendar app. such an old man.

after a few seconds, he pulled up a date on his phone and turned it to you. only a week from then.. ”february 14,” he winked at you and walked away, not even turning back, “see you at the dorm, dumbass,”

midoriya would be like  ≧◉◡◉≦

“all might’s spot as the top hero will not be easily passed by endeavor, or anyone else. he’s great for many reasons, would you like to hear them?” he only paused for a second, turning his head to see your amused nod before immediately continuing, “well first of all his quirk is-”

“midoriya, i wanna date you, if you want,” you interrupted and slowly put a hand on his arm, softly smiling at him.

“huh?” the small sentence shook him from his ranting, and he turned his entire body to look at you. your cheeks heated from the disoriented stare he gave you. he was that shaken up by something you’d said? “really?” 

“yes, of course. you’re very handsome and very passionate and ve-”

“yeah of course i’ll date you, thank you, y/n,” he kissed your forehead before turning back to the school hallway, ignoring the excited giggles of his classmates, “okay, so all might’s quirk is obvi....” his mind started wandering to how excited he was at the thought of dating you. it was a dream come true. “oh, sorry, so his quirk is obviously very good for hero w-”

“midoriya, can we go to your dorm after school?” you interrupted him again, smiling sweetly at him. sometimes it was difficult for him to not talk about heroes and all about them all, but you understood and tried helping out with other things.

“oh, of course, sweetie.. hah, can i call you sweetie? or would you prefer just y/n?” he began going on and on about the different things he wanted to call you if you were comfortable, not stopping until you grabbed his wrist and dragged him to both of yours next bell. 

ugh, calculus.

denki is like oh.? hehehehehehehehe 

you were sprawled out on your best friend’s bed, laying starfish on your back as you huffed about how frustrated and annoying today was. although you held back the most important part. it was especially frustrating how much you adored him. the good ole denki kaminari. you had these feelings for quite a while, trying your best not to confess. i mean, he was a class flirt, he wouldn’t like you back, right?

nah. he hadn’t flirted with anyone other than you in months. and you were the only one that didn’t pick up on it. 

“c’mon, y/n, i know you aren’t telling the full story. say what’s on your mind,” denki lightly ran his fingers up and down your right leg. it tickled but not enough to be uncomfortable. 

“i can’t,” you groaned, giggling when he rolled his eyes and persisted, saying no matter what he wouldn’t tell anyone.

“if you tell me, i’ll give you five bucks, y/n,” he chuckled when you sighed and finally nodded. when you sat up, he turned so you could tell he was listening to what you had to say.

“fine, but only for the money,” you giggled, “i uh.. i’ve been interested in you for a really long time now.. but i understand if you don-” 

wait what

he kissed you, moving his hand up to cup your cheek. your eyes slowly closed, leaning into his touch.

holy shit he kissed you???

when you were let go, your cheeks felt burning hot.

“denk-”

he kissed you again, and you melted into it. it felt like fireworks, euphoria filling your body.

“so does this mean you like me back?” you nervously played with your hands, trying your best to disregard the harsh red blush that was thrown on your face.

“well, duh, took ya long enough,” he chuckled, brushing some of your hair out of your face.

you cried out when you heard the click of his phone camera, and went to hide yourself.

“awe you look so beautiful, y/n. can’t wait to brag about you, baby,” he winked at you, typing something into his phone.

later that day you checked snapchat and saw on his private story the photo of you plus a caption, it read, 

“they finally realized, big dummy. y/n if you see this, you’re lucky you’re a good kisser ;)”

you shook your head and ran to his dorm, pounding on the door. you were gonna beat him up.

kirishima is a big ole softie duhhh everyone knows this. he best boy, no arguing!!

you sighed as kirishima held you to his chest, the lovely feeling of your growing feelings for him hummed in your chest. you had tried hard to push it back, how would that work out? would he reciprocate? was this only platonic?

“are you alright, y/n?” he whispered into your neck when he heard the sigh, trying to hide the deep red hue on his cheeks from you.

you both had agreed not to catch feelings for each other, fine at first with just cuddles and sweet compliments. no specific ties to the affections, just a way for the both of you to feel loved. an ideal thing to have, except that both of you were slowly breaking the agreement. 

you both ached for each other, but neither of you wanted to be the first to admit it. it was simply too risky.

“y-yeah, sorry, just thinking,”

“awe, no need to be sorry, pumpkin, what’s that pretty brain of yours thinking of?” he ran his fingers through your hair, appreciating the shivers of content that had you moving a small bit in his hold.

when you didn’t respond, he cocked an eyebrow, wondering if you hadn’t heard him or if you just chose to be quiet.

“pebble, what’re you thinking about?” he asked again, gently running his hand up and down your arm.

too deep in your thoughts to actually comprehend you were saying this out loud and not in your head, you whispered, “i wanna date you, i don’t want this to be just platonic. i need to be with you, kiri,”

“oh? you need to?” he smirked, chuckling when your eyes widened as you realized you had actually said that out loud, “well, if it’s a need.. i can make it happen, of course,”

“w-wait what?”

“you said you need to be with me, you weren’t lying, were you?” you slowly shook your head no, avoiding his gaze that bore into your skin, “let’s do that then, how’s that sound, pumpkin?”

“good,” you smiled into his chest, trying to move your hand to your arm to pinch you. were you dreaming?

you weren’t, this was real.

the man you’d liked for a while liked you back, oh hell yeah.

#mha bakugou #mha x reader #bnha shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha fluff #mha todoroki #todoroki x reader fluff #shoto todoroki fluff #kirishima fluff #izuku fluff #bakugou x reader fluff #bakugou fluff #shoto fluff #todoroki fluff #denki fluff #denki imagine #denki x reader #eijiro kirishima x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #mha fluff #todoroki imagine #bakugou imagine #kirishima imagine #deku fluff #deku x reader #m.favs