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silantryoo · 9 months

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BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — gravity

GAME TWO: Seoul's Univeristy of Multi-Arts (SUMA) VS. Korea University (KU)

WARNINGS ; mentions of cheating, overworking, jokes about virginity and sex (3.3k)

shin ryujin fixed her mask as she scanned the court.

suma was exactly how she remembered it. her eyes squinted against the yellow-tinted fluorescent lights that blinded her as soon as she entered. there was the faint smell of bleach that always seemed to linger during game days, and the loud screams that melted the hundreds of voices into one ginormous one.

she held back a smile, watching as her school sat across from the gym, holding crimson banners and waving cardboard cutouts of tiger heads.

ryujin adjusted her scarlet hoodie, making her way to the closest empty space. she took a seat next to the suma students, eyes on her as the number 23 blared at them, the last name lee etched onto her back. ryujin could feel pride swell in her chest, watching as her girlfriend did what she did best.

times like this, she wished she could've stayed, she wished she could've played alongside chaeryoung without a care in the world.

ryujin looked over to jimin, the girl holding her side as she shouted orders at one of her juniors. she watched them wince, nodding as if they were terrified that she might implode at one more thing they did wrong.

if chaeryoung was the desire, jimin was a reminder.

jimin was hwang yeji's legacy.

"i'm just surprised that you didn't dress up this time."

yuri looked down at her outfit, smoothing out her loose denim jeans and her white shirt. it was a drastic change from last time, considering she had been sporting a bright red cheerleading costume with yena's number plastered on the back of it.

(aside from being the first university to have all major sports available at the university level, suma was also the first to sell their own athlete merchandise.)

"am i supposed to dress up every time?" yuri complained. she scratched her cheek, trying to forget the fact that minju was the only reason she didn't wear it today.

minjeong snickered under her breath, fidgeting lightly with the hood of her sweater. "yes."

yuri hit her without the usual protest from her roommate. the older girl had been too busy staring at the japanese transfer, and it was clear that rei was starting to get uncomfortable.

"unnie." y/n elbowed her. she wasn't against minju giving rei a piece of her mind, but the older girl would murder rei if she didn't watch herself. "stop it."

minju's gaze broke away from the freshman's figure. her eyes, now seemingly filled with innocence instead of rage, looked into y/n's.

"what?" minju batted her eyelashes.

y/n rolled her eyes, minju's glare returning as she watched rei once more.

yuri looked over, the tension suppressing the five girl's into silence, despite the large crowd cheering all around them.

y/n tried to focus on her girlfriend, watching as jimin tied her hair into a high ponytail. the senior was pale, playing through the pain of her bruised ribs as if it was second nature. her neck was carefully covered up with marks, and if y/n was just any other person to jimin, she wouldn't have noticed.

y/n wondered if jimin felt any guilt, staring into the mirror as she tried to erase the marks of nakamura kazuha.

"yo, rei." yuri cleared her throat, peering over at the taller girl. she pointed to minjeong. "you know she's not a virgin?"

minjeong's head snapped away from y/n's figure to yuri's. "what the fuck is your problem?"

jimin, like always, lead the team with the most amount of kills, despite coach seulgi insisting she sat out and let the others get some minutes.

she didn't care, and it was clear that she had something to prove, even if she was already the face of south korea's university league. there was something burning in her, a gnawing fire that seemed to engulf her whenever she looked at wonyoung.

"i'm just surprised you managed to pull." yuri joked, earning a scoff from the girl to her left. "was it a man?"

y/n stared at the middle blocker, chanting for her younger teammates with gaeul and yujin. her eyes gleamed, cheeks red from shouting too loud. her teeth peaked through her upper lip, her eyes turning into crescents as she continued to chant. out of habit, y/n strained to hear her ears just to hear wonyoung in the sea of people, just like always.

minju pulled her gaze away from rei, her eyes stumbling across y/n's, fully enamored in whatever she was looking at.

"no!" jimin scores another kill, and minjeong could hear the desperate screams of the girls beside her. "i'm a homo, you asshole."

wonyoung smiled for a moment, and y/n remembered that she was jimin's.

y/n felt sick.

"questionable." yuri eyed minjeong up and down.

the music major mind ran in circles, thinking of a way to tell the girl beside her to shut up, but she could see the color draining from y/n's face, and to her, nothing would ever be more important than l/n y/n.

"y/n." minjeong leaned over, tugging on her hood.

y/n wanted to go back to a time when being with jimin felt like wonyoung smiling at her, holding her in her arms as the air conditioning blew onto her bed.

jimin scores another kill, and y/n didn't have it in her to cheer for the girl she loved/

"i'm fine." y/n wondered if she was.

minju looked at her once again, before her eyes fell on rei. the girl was relaxed, too much so for minju's liking. she didn't understand how the girl could be so nonchalant about breaking her little sister's heart. minju couldn't understand how someone could say such horrible things and act like everything was okay, like they were okay.

(minju didn't know if she was talking about naoi rei anymore.)

fishing a ₩1000 bill from her jacket, she handed it to y/n, gripping it tightly.

"go get water." the vice president stated.

y/n looked at her bottle on the ground, open but basically full. "but i already have-"

"go get water."

the whistle blows, and the opposite section of the gym erupts into cheers. y/n hadn't heard them since the beginning of the set.

minju gave her a pointed look, and the younger girl hesitantly nodded. there was nothing that would be able to get through to minju, not when it came to her sister.

"oh."

y/n stood up, making minjeong follow her lead. she watched as y/n faded into the crowd, and although she tried to walk after the girl, minjeong couldn't.

"minjeongers." yuri looked at her, hand firmly on her wrist as she looked up at her with curiosity. "let's talk about your sex life somewhere else so rei doesn't her how utterly depressing it is."

minjeong clenched her fist, looking at the back of yuri's head as the shorter girl stood up.

"i'll fuck your mom."

"i'll fuck yours."

the whistle blows once more, covering minju's very adamant (very terrifying) 'go!', but it didn't stop minjeong from searching for y/n through the crowd.

y/n entered the gym once more, red slurpee in hand as she scanned the area.

the floor under her shoes felt sticky, and slightly stained red. from where she was standing, she could see at least five boxes of empty popcorn containers and a poster of jimin with hearts surrounding it.

y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes as she began walking down the front row. she continuously bowed in apology for blocking the view, earning curses from suma students with faces painted red and banners waving in the air. the cheering never ceased and all she wanted was to she made her way up the bleacher stairs, only to find it completely blocked by crowds of people.

sighing, she took the closest free seat, one right across from suma's side of the court.

she could hear wonyoung better than before, and y/n couldn't wait until suma switched sides.

needing a distraction, she looked to her right, stopping at the whisker-like dimple peaking out from under the stranger's mask that sat beside her. the scarlet hoodie glared back at her, the bright 'lee 23' staring her in the face.

"ryujin-sunbaenim?"

ryujin stopped, her heart dropping. she wasn't supposed to be spotted, especially this close to the court.

swallowing down her anxieties, she adjusted her mask up higher, covering her cheeks.

"y/n-ssi." she bowed, watching as the younger girl did the same back. "it's been awhile."

ryujin glanced as chaeryoung shut down ku in their tracks, blocking a near-perfect spike from the other team. she felt pride swell all over her body, threatening to spill out of her throat.

"it has." y/n nodded, recalling last year and it's many events. "are you cheering for chaeryoung-sunbaenim?"

"i am." y/n could see ryujin's smile from underneath her mask. "are you here for-"

wonyoung's high-pitched cheers invaded y/n's ears.

"no." it took everything in her to not glance at the girl. "we broke up a while back."

ryujin tried her best to not look shocked, but it was impossible. although they were just kids, wonyoung and y/n weren't together just to be together.

wonyoung was y/n's and y/n was wonyoung's.

"oh." ryujin scratched the side of her neck, avoiding y/n's eyes. she hated the feeling she got when jisu was mentioned. she couldn't imagine what it was like with y/n right now. "sorry."

y/n shrugged, her eyes moving to watch her girlfriend. "i'm with jimin now."

jimin. ryujin thought. that makes sense.

her brown irises snapped to the girl beside her, and a sense of seriousness seemed to fill the entire olympic sized gym.

"you aren't not gonna tell her i'm here, right?"

ryujin searched y/n's eyes, trying to find the girl before jimin (before yeji).

"no."

all she saw was wonyoung's y/n.

"okay."

she turned her head, facing the court once more. jimin had always been more caring than yeji. the girl would offer the others time to rest, pulling their former captain away from the group for as long as possible.

maybe the jimin ryujin knew no longer existed, or maybe there was a part of her that could never be erased.

ryujin looked at jimin, muttering what seemed to be curses at one of her juniors.

she looked at y/n once more, her eyes bright despite her sunken cheeks and heavy eyebags.

maybe it wasn't the yoo jimin ryujin had met her first year, the one that worked hard for her family, nor the yoo jimin she knew now.

"thank you."

y/n couldn't help but notice ryujin's eyes, full of light as she watched at chaeryoung once more.

ryujin had never looked happier.

jimin stared at the door, waiting for it to open.

the game had ended twenty minutes ago and was an absolute blowout despite the fact that jimin had been benched by seulgi at the end of the second set.

she would've been upset, especially since she ended up sitting next to jang wonyoung, but everything seemed to melt away when she stared at y/n from across the gym.

she could see y/n's beauty mark from where she was sitting, her eyes slightly red because of jimin's doing. y/n was rubbing her wrist, covering up a mysterious bruise that jimin had no clue about until recently. her nose was slightly red, the heat from the gym affecting her.

despite everything jimin had done, despite everything jimin had said, y/n stayed. she stood by her, never choosing a different person, nor straying from her. it was everything that jimin had deserved, everything that a good person like her deserved.

she deserved someone who would stay this time, not like hwang yeji, not like her father, and even though jimin knew she would stray a couple times more, y/n was hers.

she looked at the clock, ticking in front of her like the metronome in her dorm.

it had been thirty minutes since the game had ended.

she rubbed the freshly-made bruises on her skin, watching the door closely.

no one came.

y/n knew it was a stupid idea.

she rubbed her thumb along the side of her phone, looking at the text jiwon had sent her from earlier. the younger girl had asked her if she could thank wonyoung. y/n was grateful, a sense of pride running through her body when jiwon had texted her those words, but she knew that it was a bad idea.

still, she could hear the screams and cheers coming from inside.

a part of her could imagine wonyoung, eyes bright and cheeks rosy, laughing at some stupid joke that one of her teammates made. she didn't understand why something so pointless would draw her in, but she couldn't help it.

wonyoung was like her gravity.

y/n knocked, as if afraid to exert her bruised wrist once more.

the door opened, and the middle blocker towered over her.

"wonyoung."

wonyoung could feel her entire face go red.

"y/n." she took of the inflatable, burger king crown from her head, ignoring yena's demands behind her ('just tell me what you know and i'll leave you alone.'). "um, hi."

"can i talk to you?" y/n looked inside the room, seeing yena's poorly drawn picture of what she assumed to be yuri. she held back a smile. "privately?"

wonyoung didn't know whether to cry because she was happy, or to cry because she felt terrified.

she looked at y/n's anticipating eyes, faint red lines covering the whites of them, bloodshot and dry.

i miss wonyoung.

she could never deny y/n, not even if wonyoung could try.

"of course."

y/n moved aside, letting wonyoung close the door behind her. she watched as wonyoung moved away from the frosted window, and next to the wall.

y/n could feel her phone buzzing in her hand, and she quickly hit the power button.

"jiwon wanted me to thank you." y/n whispered with her head low, the ventilation humming in the back. "for the rei thing. i don't know what you said, but it made her feel better, so thank you."

y/n couldn't look up, no matter how much she wanted to see wonyoung at that moment.

"it's no problem." she could hear wonyoung's soft grin through her words. "she's my friend."

wonyoung shuffled around, the silence hanging thick in the air. with fleeting moments come times like these, where all she could think about were her past mistakes, and how being in the same vicinity as y/n made her hurt in ways that she had never felt before.

i miss wonyoung.

"i should go." wonyoung loved y/n as much as she loved running away from her problems.

"wonyoung?"

but y/n never let her, and she was both grateful and not simultaneously.

wonyoung looked at her, y/n's eyes peering into her own. she could hear her heart beating in her chest, watching as the shorter girl smiled.

"thank you for keeping me safe."

wonyoung could feel pride bubbling in her chest.

she could feel herself smiling involuntarily, like a side effect from being around the girl she had loved for more than a year now. "i'll always keep you safe."

y/n never doubted those words when it came to wonyoung.

"i know."

the older girl watched as wonyoung's eyes softened, the industrial lights above them lighting them almost perfectly.

she wanted to tell wonyoung everything, like the two were back at their dorm, gossiping about their day and joking around like the world outside didn't exist.

y/n wanted to tell her how much she missed her, how since they've broken up, all her dreams were about her. she wanted to show her that she still had that stupid teddy bear she named after some character from that volleyball show, and how every time she tried to throw it away, she couldn't.

minjeong would kill her, but she would kill herself if she let this pass.

"wonyoung," y/n could feel her heart thumping in her chest. "i-"

"how are you and jimin-sunbaenim?" wonyoung winced, hating how that was the first thing that came to mind.

the last time she had seen y/n was when the two had gotten back together, so the memory was still fresh in her mind (and painfully so).

"huh?" y/n blinked. jimin? "oh right. yeah, we're okay."

"good." wonyoung wanted to jump into the nearest ceiling fan. "that's good."

yujin was going to absolutely make fun of her later, and all she could do is whine because it's her fault.

y/n muttered, pressing the power button on her phone once more. "do you still have my number?"

wonyoung wondered if she needed to clean her ears, or if she was starting to hear ghosts.

"what?" the taller girl looked at y/n with a toothless smile, eyes blank and glossed over. "sorry?"

"my number." y/n didn't understand how she was more nervous about this than the audition for hybe's bts. "do you still have it?"

xxx-xxx-xxxx.

wonyoung had memorized it the day y/n had given it to her, and she wasn't planning on deleting it from her memory or her phone.

she nodded, too afraid that she'd combust if she opened her mouth.

"good." y/n looked at her phone. 9 missed calls from jimin and minjeong. "i still have yours."

wonyoung was going to faint.

"oh."

"i'll text you later." y/n blushed, the tip of her nose going red. she didn't realize what it sounded like until she said it. "about jiwon, i mean."

"right." y/n wasn't going to text her to ask about her, but all that mattered was that she was going to text wonyoung. "about jiwon."

wonyoung bit her tongue. a win was a win, even though her self-esteem was utterly destroyed, and she started to blame herself even more for their breakup, burying herself deeper into studies, stuco duties, and volleyball that her hair was starting to thin. all within a week.

wonyoung scratched the side of her thumb, anxiety suddenly erupting across her palms.

behind her, wonyoung could see a figure turning the corner, sharp eyes trained to her phone as she furiously texted. the volleyball player looked at her phone, her face draining.

eleven missed messages.

the middle blocker closed her eyes, waiting for the senior to spot her. she could hear the footsteps coming closer, and she waited until they stopped before she opened her eyes.

"i was loo-" the older girl scolded before doing a double take. "um, hello."

y/n waved at the familiar face. "hi."

wonyoung watched as the older girl tried to piece things together, looking between her and y/n who stood stiff and unmoving.

pointing between the two, she squinted her eyes. "are you two..."

"no! oh my god, no." y/n didn't understand why it upset her so much, or why her chest suddenly felt so heavy. "unnie, why are you here?"

"my chauffeur is picking us up in like, five." she continued to text on her phone. "get dressed."

y/n felt like she was intruding, and the older girl's manicured nails tapping against her phone screen was starting to drive her insane.

"where are we going?" wonyoung asked.

the older girl shrugged, not really sure either. "out."

it felt painful to watch, and suddenly she felt the need to find jimin.

the middle blocker whined, not wanting to get black-out drunk on a thursday. "no getting drunk please."

"we'll see." she hummed, closing her phone as she shooed wonyoung with her hand.

y/n needed jimin, and she needed her now.

bowing lightly, y/n smiled at the two girls, once more fake than the other. her eyes met the older girl's, and even though she had heard of her multiple times from jimin, it was different than seeing her in person.

"bye, wonyoung." y/n said softly, her breath shallow.

she bowed once more, much lower than the last.

"aeri-sunbaemin."

masterlist | next

taglist (CLOSED)!!

@serenitygrace24 @moontealemonpie @writingficsblog @kittyeij @cutieseo @limbforalimb @ahnneyong @yumtooki @lcv3lies @sserajeans @jiwoneiric @babycubchae @trsrina @xyxlyn @misumiausworld @slowlyturninggay291 @awkwardtoafault @captivq @ddeonutz @noiacha @sserabey @d7dream @slowlyturninggay291 @lvwr @perfectsunlight @forever-in-the-sky2 @juhyunsthirdwife @uzumakioden @txtbrainrot @rosiehrs @yunjinhart @skisk1 @bzeus28 @deeznutzryu @jisooftme @danistolemyheart @li0ilthecxnt @eggomi @ddoxhan @zhivaxo @sweet-dhrafts @livelaughloveyujin @luveuly @marimo-anura @yunnybunnyy @ivy-aurora @wonyoluvr

#jang wonyoung x reader #ive x reader #iz*one x reader #izone x reader #aespa x reader #kpop x reader #idol x reader #silantryo

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toomanyfandomsimfanvergent · 1 year

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Stev catches robin and yn making out and bans them from the break room.

yn takes a picture of her and Robin making out in the break room for Steve

"Tell me not to do something and I'll do it twice, oh and take a picture,"

HELL YEAH reqs are open check my pinned post for details

Robin Buckley x reader

You pinned robin up against the break room wall. You saw her blush and smile. you stare at her lips as she begins to speak.

"I'm going to guess you didn't actually didn't need me to reach something. Which doesn't make sense because you're taller than me," Robin blurts.

Before she can begin another sentence your lips crash into hers. Her hands go straight to your hair as she moans into your lips. You take that as an opportunity to skip your tongue in.

You feel robin repeat the action as your hands go to toy with the hem of her shirt. You slip your hand under it and toy with her bra. You slide into it and feel her hardened nipple.

She moans when you roll the bud between your fingers..Robin leans her head back when you disconnect the kiss.

"Boobies," you giggle and she smiles, "May I?" You ask and slip your hand up her bottoms. You loved the slutty little sailor outfits.

You connect your lips as you start to move her panties to the side-

"FUCK," Steve screams and you both jump apart. Robins face turns a deep red and so does steves.

"No, no, it's not what it looks like,-" Robin is cut off by you.

"No it is. Quickie in the break room now I have work to do, or rather someone to do,"you wiggle your eyebrows at Steve who drags you out by your arms and forces you to stop fucking on the clock.

You groan as you have to scoop ice cream.

____________________________________________

You smile as you click a pic. The polaroid starts to develop as Robin moans into the kiss. Similar position as the last time you both had gotten caught.

You smile and deepen the kiss and helo robin wrap her legs around your waist as you kiss her.

Robin slips her hand up your shirt and slips under your bra to flick your nipple you whimper at the feeling.

you break apart, red faced, cleat dishelved, and panting you both go back to work. Steve would kill you.

Finding out you made out in the break room....again. and took photos.

Robin refused to let you take pics of her getting oral in the back room. You had tried to convince her but she forced you to put up the camera...unless you wanted one for yourself.

You walk by Steve and skip the photo into his hand, "Tell me not to something, I will do it twice and take pictures,"

"Don't do me," Robin replies and Steve groans and cusses. You wink at Robin and she blushes.

"I give up," Steve mumbles before walking away. He quickly comes back, "You two cannot be alone unattended,"

You and Robin giggle. It was true. You loved stealing samples of the ice cream....but you had a different type of cream in mind.

Steve had said you were relentless. He said no, and we'll you see why he says that. Having been friends with Steve since child hood, dating Robin since junior year, Steve had only just met your girlfriend.

You were both forced to stay hidden. Being a lesbian in Hawkins, Indiane in the '80s was risky.

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istadris · 10 months

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That plotbunny is way too good! I’m such a sucker for metamorphosis and feral behaviour, I just can’t help myself.

It’s hilarious that Luigi, known for being demure and sweet, is quite the vicious predator once the right circumstances arise. Foxes are focused on family units and territory, and are known to actively defend their territories from other red foxes. Territorial disputes are usually settled by aggressive displays, chasing, and general harassment. Mario finding a guilty pleasure in dumpster diving is either the raccoon instincts or just Mario being Mario- no one really knows.

Whilst Luigi is desperately trying to keep Junior safe from harm and away from street punks and muggers, any passerby would think that this poor child is being attacked/harassed by a fox (and animal control should be called immediately!) Somewhere else in Brooklyn some crazy red-head rocker is screaming at a raccoon while trying to calm a quite fancy looking cat trying to scratch out his eyeballs.

(Referring to this post )

Oh yes, Luigi becomes a feral little screaming furball! The problem is, even at it's most intimidating, a fox is still a little thing and Luigi isn't the most intimidating person to begin with. So people tend to laugh at him...until he jumps and bites their balls off. He's so stressed the whole time, he deserves to go a little feral, as a treat.

At some point someone calls animal control and they manage to grab Luigi, which makes Junior laugh a lot...until the humans start talking down to him and ask him nosy questions like "where are your parents ? Do you need help getting home? Did the mean fox bite you ? Can you show us where ?"

"Hey, where are you taking him?"

"Don't worry, that nasty fox won't hurt you anymore"

Junior then panics because as much as Luigo annoys him, he's his only point of familiarity and safety in this crazy human world, and so he throws a tantrum, manages to get Luigi back and run, and now animal control are looking for a homeless kid that just stole a rabid fox.

Mario claims it's the raccoon instinct that made him rummage through a trash can for a week old pizza pie. No one can tell how much he is honest about it (and given how much Peach wants to rub her cheeks against everything to stake her territory, including on Bowser, she's not going to argue).

But aside from the trash panda tendencies, he's actually a huge help to Bowser and Peach, giving them tips and keeping them from dying in the most stupid ways several times over.

"Whaddaya mean we can't just jump up that building? Aren't there any blocks with healing mushrooms around here ? Hey, what's this guy with a hood waving around ? A "gum"? He looks wimpy, lemme take care of that"

Bowser actually befriends a bunch of punks who think this big guy who managed to flip an entire police car is the coolest dude ever, and they go gaga over his pets (Mario managed to convince Peach to act in the cutest way she could). He's looking for his kid ? No problem, they'll keep an eye out!

#super mario bros #miscellaneous mario madness #answers #anon ask #lost in New York AU

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jackrrabbit · 3 years

Text

🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

#haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #tendou x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #kuroo x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #tendou satori x reader #atsumu miya x reader #osamu miya x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu imagines

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ryozoro · 3 years

Text

Hades Playlist - i.

NOW PLAYING : I n t e r l u d e [J. Cole]

cw; name calling, blood, mentions of murder, major spoilers

“Fate is a very weighty word to throw around before breakfast.”

Despite the red-light district thriving through the night, it looked just as beautiful during the early morning. Yn was roaming the streets on her pedal bike for the first time since winter break as she plotted different ways to surprise her big brother at his newly opened bike shop. She had already purchased his favorite breakfast meal from the little café she worked at, and all that she was left to do was see the said man. Getting out of thoughts and returning to reality, she stopped at the side of the traffic light to press the ‘crossing’ button and to text Draken to make sure he was at work before she made the trip.

“hey there pretty girl, ya wanna come ride something more interesting than the little kiddie bike yer on right now?” some bleach blonde junior high kid called out to her, smirking as he man spread and took up most of the space on the park bench. “I know ya hear me pretty girl,” he leaned and rested his elbows onto his knees, “maybe ya want me to come over and beg for yer attention, huh? Want me to come and make ya listen to me?”

She scoffed and waited for the light to signal for her to cross, but its as if the gods wanted to punish her and traffic kept flowing out of her favor. Getting restless, she pocketed her phone and tapped on her bar handles in hopes of the cars to all be generous and let her through; of course, this did not happen and the young fuck boy in training had began to approach her alongside his friend who were hyping him up and recording the event.

“You might be older than me,” he walked up behind her and kicked her bike tire before circling around and leaning against the basket in the front, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I hit girls.” Yn had to refrain from spitting in his face because Draken always said ‘never start anything with others first, let them choose their fate.’ In other words, big bro just didn’t want her to put herself at risk due to minor inconveniences that were presented towards her.

Just as the light switched from a hand to a walking figure, yn politely smiled at the boy in hopes of him getting the hint that she did not wish to engage with him anymore, but – of course – that was just asking too much of him. He turned back and looked at the sign noticing it was their turn to cross, and he surprisingly moved out the way. Yn smiled realizing that her brother did know it best when he said that the ‘dumb young boys will leave you alone after they realize you’re not going to give them the time of day,’ and she moved to pedal across the cross walk with a large smile.

However, big bro’s words are not the golden rule amongst men and the boys did not leave her alone; in fact, they decided to run at her hit the back tire with a bat and caused her to lose control and fall in the middle of the walkway. The drivers were kind enough to wait for her to get up and cross the street with scraped knees and a dirty pull over. She turned back to glare at the boys, but their backs were already facing her as they leisurely walked away laughing. This wasn’t going to ruin her day, after all, she still gets to surprise her brother with her presence and might even have the chance to see his hot amazing friends whom you grew up around. After realizing that the former gang members might all be hanging around her brother’s workplace, she got up with a huge smile and skipped the rest of her way on the crosswalk. Once to the other side, yn hopped back on her bike without checking her bloodied shins and made her way on the quickest route to the shop.

Glancing up at the familiar billboards that danced in sky and looking down at the alleys being populated with street cats and new gen delinquents, she realized she was only a block down from seeing the man who has always put her first and raised her to strive to her fullest potential. Smiling as closed her eyes for just a second - she swears it – to bask in the excitement and next thing she knew, she was on the ground covered in coffee. She could hear faint voices but those were cancelled out by her skin screaming at her to get up and quickly remove any rubble and dirt that had entered. Moving to get up, she took note of blood staining the concrete and became slightly alarmed.

“Oi, you dumb bitch, you should watch where you’re going,” a man’s voice echoed through her head, “you got a drip of blood on my Milano’s.” Trying to get up, yn went to wipe her eyes, but as soon as she lifted her hands, she felt them share the similar sting that her knees and chin felt. “You deaf or something? Ha, lucky for you I’ll take the food in your basket and whatever is in your wallet as an exchange. Pin code for your card must be included, love.” Hearing as she was about to get stripped dry of her hard-earned cash, she shot a glare up at the well-dressed man’s body just to be sent in a more state of terror when she noticed the tattoo that decorated his temple; it was the infamous Bonten symbol.

“I say we just take her to the back alley and make her pretty throat match the rest of her bloody body,” she turned and seen a pinkette with long hair and two scars that sat on each corner of his ?beautiful? mouth. to be completely honest, he would have been very much at the top of her most attractive list if he weren’t just plotting to slice her neck right in front of her; she wondered if he ever heard of the Element of Surprise. “She hasn’t even apologized yet and it’s been at least 45 seconds, that is pretty rude don’t you think, Mochi-kun?”

“It is very rude,” the built man with slicked back blonde hair spoke up, “do you want me to take her in the alleyway?” He squatted down to meet yn at eye level and she didn’t know if it was the fact he was able to stare into her soul with lifeless eyes or the extremely structured shoulders that could break her bones if he had tackled her, but she genuinely felt that she was going to die. “You seem like a worthless kill if I am being honest, and I don’t like claiming meaningless prizes. So, if you want to live,” ‘Mochi-kun’ reached over and gripped her bloodied chin, “or are you going to be good dog and run your pockets?”

She couldn’t believe it; for all her life, death threats have never been directly shot at her as Draken and the others have always been there. Of course, she emptied her pockets as quick as she could and began wiping the man’s Milano’s with her cloth lens wipe.

“Good girl,” the man with the temple tattoo said mockingly, “but I’m gonna need you to put your pretty mouth to work since you don’t know – or rather – you act like you don’t know how to speak.” She felt her eyes began to fill with tears as she looked up from the ground; they mistook it for fear, but yn was just angry she was powerless to them. “Don’t worry, I like older women, so I won’t need your mouth for that,” he laughed loudly in her face, “lick the blood off.” Her glare returned and tears began to spill over her cheeks. “Be a good bitch, and lick my –“

“What are you idiots doing?” a man with a long pink and purple mullet-like hairstyle came from behind her. “Are you guys bullying young kids again? Oh, wait, you’re not a kid.” He stared at you through his multi-colored bangs and tilted his head, “Why are you all bloody like a sewer rat walking through the back alley of feral cats?” he pushed the girl’s forehead back, straining her neck to hold eye contact with him, “you’re not some whore, are you?” He craned his neck back to the man who has been treating her like a dog, giving yn a full view of his Bonten symbol tattooed across the middle of his pretty throat. “Neh, Koko, you do realize that if you want a girl’s attention you can’t just rough her up in hopes that she takes you to bed.” He turns back to yn before sighing, “You’re cute,” for some reason she felt herself swelling with pride, “but you’re not my type,” – well there goes her ego.

“Oh what-fucking-ever,” ‘Koko’ mumbled as he gently pushed her away, “I didn’t want some inexperienced princess anyway, so don’t get your hopes up.” He quickly bent down and took all the cash from her wallet and began to slide out the card, but a baton quickly swatted at his hands.

“Your obsession with money is crazy, but you can’t take hers if you still owe me 45,000 yen.” Yn turned to see a man with pushed back purple and pink hair holding the offending stick. Unlike the other members, his tattoo was in the same place as the mullet man – maybe they took over the organization after her other big brotherly figure, Mikey, left. She drank in his appearance, and although he was thinner than the other members, something about him just screamed ‘stay away;’ but for the first time in her life, yn didn’t want to listen to such obvious red flags. “Oh no, you’re bloodied up like a rat –“

“I have already said that nii-chan,” the mullet head said, “what do you say? Wanna jut get rid of her like Sanzu-san suggested?” The now known younger brother asks. She began to tremble but not out of fear, no, out of a weird feeling at the pits of her stomach that came about as soon as the stranger stumbled onto the scene. “Oi,” the younger brother flicked your chin, reminding your body that it is supposed to be in a state of stinging pain, “staring is rude. What are you – a deer in headlights?”

“Now, now, Ridou,” the man continued to meet yn’s gaze as he motioned for her to take his hand, “where’s the fun in hurting a good little lamb? Especially one who shows that she knows to yield to her Sheppard.” Against her better judgement, yn took his hand and allowed him to help her up. “Look at you go,” he smirked and scanned over her body through hooded lids, “such a strong little girl you are standing on wobbly legs after the big bad wolves tried to tear you down.”

She should feel offended, mocked, and appalled, but she couldn’t – not with the voids he called eyes staring at her. “T-thanks,” she weakly mumbled as she began to gather her bag back together and prop her bike back up, “I know you guys said you needed the pin number, but I can’t give it to you.” She hung her head and balled her fists; she was waiting for someone to hit her but that never came. Looking up she sees the ‘older brother’ standing in front of the brooding ‘Koko’ and the other members just staring around the streets.

“That’s fine, little one,” the older brother said, “we don’t need your card. Koko here will be fine with just the cash. But I will need payment of the sort since I did calm the bully over here, don’t you think?” He smiled at yn, quickly scanning her student ID and then turning back to her face, “You’re 18, yeah?” she nodded, and he smiled lazily, “Good, give me something of yours that is valuable. I want to talk to you again and if I take it, you are going to want to take it back, correct?”

“I – um,” she began to go through the bag and seen that the only things she deemed valuable were her phone and the spare keys to her room in the brothel, “all I have is my k-keys and phone.” She huffed out in hopes that he took mercy and just let her go already; if she kept in his presence any longer, she feared that every piece of knowledge on common sense would fly out of her brain.

“Well, no one wants a pedal bike here and your phone and keys wouldn’t be of use to me,” he spoke in a rather degrading tone, “how about, you give me that pretty little necklace that you’re wearing… hmm, ... oh! Give me your number as well. After all, how are you going to know when I want you to take back your precious gems without being able to plan a proper date?” His smile was too secretive to be comforting, but this was probably the best way to saving her own life.

“Okay,” she replied quickly, “just please, don’t break the necklace…” her hands shook as she unclasped it and placed it into the man’s hands. “That’s a gift from my brother, so I promise you I’ll come and get it whenever you ask.” Yn put her hands on her bar handles before straddling the bike.

“Thank you,” he smiled and put away the baton before fishing out his phone, “put your number in it and call to make sure you’re not fucking with me, yeah?” He tilted his head and softly hummed at the soft sound of her phone vibrating in her bag. “Thank you, yn-chan.”

“No, thank you,” she lightly coughed and waited for him to look back up at her after saving all her contact information. Once he finally looked up, she flinched but proceeded to stare him dead in his lovely irises, “May I have your name… if ya don’t mind that it.”

“Haitani Ran,” the older man laughed and shifted his weight onto his hip, “and I expect you to text me whenever you get the chance.” He turned around and the other members began to follow. For what felt like an eternity, yn finally let out a small breath, well at least until he had turned back around. “Oh!” Haitani-san smiled at her, “Leave it under ‘Ran-senpai’ so your brother and friends don’t get spooked. Don’t want the fun to end before it has barely even started.” With that, he turned back around and waved half-assed before disappearing into the distance.

Yn decided to just to walk the rest of the block because riding the bike has been nothing but bad luck so far. Once at the shop, she sighed and made her way to the back where she knew would be unlocked because no one dared walk up into her big brother’s place of work. Parking her bike, she quickly takes her phone back out with 3 texts from an unknown number.

Unknown: hey little lamb, its yer senpai <3

Unknown: yer probs with yer bro so ill call you later, mm around midnight so stay up

Unknown: text me back soon or I mite accidentally break your pretty necklace and youll have to owe me a big favor for ignoring me :)

“what the actual fuck,” yn whispered as she quickly began typing away. She didn’t know if she be upset with his back-to-back messages treating her like she was his property, or mad at herself for feeling this little need inside of her that wants to please him. Yes, all of the gang members were extremely hot and DANGEROUS, but something about ‘Ran Senpai’ gave her the cold chills; what made it worse was the urge that she possessed to go against all her morals for him.

Yn: hi! Im sorry,, I was just trying to get to my brother’s shop

Yn: wait,, do you know draken-nii?

She tilted her head and rocked lightly from side to side, waiting for a reply instead of going in and surprising her brother like she initially had planned to do. While she waited, she changed his name to ‘Tani Senpai <3’ with a small smile as she imagined Draken freaking out over the fact that a boy has caught her interest. Of course, she wasn’t romantically interested in the man, but his face isn’t one that she would mind seeing from time to time – at a safe distance that is.

Tani Senpai <3: mhm, some good and bad history

Yn: oh?

Tani Senpai <3: you do know curiosity killed the cat, right little lamb?

Yn: you flirt a lot

Yn: how old are you ?

Tani Senpai <3: 28 years young bb

Yn: youre ten whole years older than me?? You look so,, young.

Tani Senpai <3: I have aged, but trust me, I am rather youthful in different aspects.

Yn: do you by chance,, like memes?

Tani Senpai <3: ofc, especially hornee ones.

Yn: haha.. well I gotta go,

Tani Senpai <3: mhm go ahead baby, remember. Midnight <3

Yn: aye aye captain.

She felt another vibration as she placed her phone in her backpack, but she was finally able to see and surprise her brother and that is exactly what she planned to do. Quietly pulling the door open, she noted that the music blaring and Draken’s back was to her as he was fixing up what looked like Pah-chin’s old CBX 400F. It was a cute sight if she was being completely honest; her brother rebuilding his old friendships. She seen the other boys’ bikes lined up too: Draken’s Zephyr, Mitsuya’s little Impulse, Kazu-kun’s Rocket, Mikey’s CB250T, and even the late Baji’s Goki.

“Pah-san still has the old thing,” she decided to speak up instead of tackling her brother, “are you guys gonna give it to some younger kids?” right as she finished her sentence, draken whipped his head back and went to cradle yn to his chest. Suddenly, all of the stinging on her skin had vanished and she was giggling while circling her arms around her brother’s waist. “How are you ya wannabe greaser?”

“I’m doing fine you idiot, how are -,” draken lifted his head to get a good look at her, but all his excitement drained as he was met with a sight of dried blood and scraped skin. “Who the fuck did this to you? I’ll kill them right fucking now, what the hell happened yn?”

“DRAKEN,” he stopped and stared at you expecting an answer, “I tired riding my bike down the big hill by the park and this happened, okay? I’m okay.” She stared at him with a soft expression and relaxed once she noticed he slumped in his posture, “I know you said to stop riding down the hill because it’ll bite me in the ass one day, so I guess today was the day.” Yn laughed and draken tried to fight the small smile that was threatening to fall on his lips.

“Go sit on the counter and watch the store for a bit, I’m gonna get the first aid kit in the back and I guess I’ll patch ya up.” With that, he disappeared into the office hall and left yn to be lost in thought. She had never lied to Draken this heavy before. It might not seem like a big deal to others, but she just told her brother she fell down a hill instead of saying that some /Bonten/ men were just threatening her life 20 minutes ago and they treated her like a dog; well, she didn’t feel that bad anymore, considering that he would have gone and wasted his life against men that played dirty. “Get out of your head, I’m back.” Draken teased her before getting an alcohol wipe and wiping the dried blood, “don’t squirm too much, loser. iss’ gonna sting a bit tho, so try to not hit me.”

It went a lot more smooth than she had expected, yeah, the cleansing wipe and ointment burned, but now she was bandaged and able to not worry about even more blood staining her clothes til they go to the brothel.

“Here,” he handed her a spare shirt and some sweats, “I don’t like seeing you all beat up, makes me want to fight the side walk. You know where the bathroom is.” Draken slightly punched her shoulder before heading back to seat near the bike, “once you’re done, we can go meet the boys for breakfast. I bet yer hungry.”

“Yer the best, ya know that,” yn smiled before taking her bag and clothes to the bathroom. “It won’t be long,” she turned before entering the hall, “make sure the cute one is there!”

“Stop trying to fuck my friends,” Draken called out in an irritated tone as she walked away laughing. It was an ongoing joke yn had played on her brother, where she would pretend to have some crush on his friends and it’d just make him twenty times more protective around them; he never knew if she was serious or not so he had to be cautious.

Once in the bathroom, yn quickly changed into the clothes her brother had lent her and stared at herself in the mirror. She laughed when she realized she kind of looked like one of the main characters from her favorite psychological thrillers. Yn took out her phone and decided to message Mana, mitsuya’s younger sister and yn’s best friend from home, with a picture of her bandaged state and the caption, ‘take out my ankles next time, daddy <3.’ It honestly surprised her to get a reply that fast as Mana was always one to sleep until noon. She didn’t know what scared her more, the fact she sent it the wrong person, or the fact the person knew exactly what she was talking about.

Tani Senpai <3: you look hot like that

Tani Senpai <3: like being called daddy, but in this context arent I supposed to call you mommy or something LMAO

Tani Senpai <3: I can break your ankles with my baton

Tani Senpai <3: make you my little housewife and call you ‘Bum.’

Tani Senpai <3: don’t worry, I won’t turn into ashes ;) <3

“Yn,” Draken called out, “you okay in there?”

“Don’t worry about it nii-Chan,” she giggled in hopes of masking her terror, “just bumped into a wound. I’ll be out soon.”

“Okay,” draken slipped a pad and a tampon under the door, “don’t know if you might want these -,”

“LEAVE YOU IDIOT,” yn genuinely laughed and heard draken’s heavy chuckles through the door, “thank you though, I’ll be out soon.”

“I’ll be outside on the bike, bubs.”

After hearing draken’s foot steps vanish, she quickly began typing.

Yn: that wasn’t meant for you -

Tani Senpai <3: shame, I love killing stalking

Yn: wait,, really? 👀

Tani Senpai <3: mhm,, we’ll talk about it later tonite ‘bum ;)

Yn: .. deal :)

Despite every shitty thing that has happened to her since she got back, it felt as if they were supposed to meet; fate as one would call it. She was offering herself to one of the most dangerous men who rule the underworld, and she didn’t even find herself to minding.

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an: hi hello, hope yer all eating well :)

ryozoro©

#haitani ran x f!reader #f!reader #tokyo revengers haitani #tokyorev haitani ran #tokyo revengers haitani ran #tokyo revengers haitani ran x reader #haitani ran #ran haitani #haitani ran x reader #haitani brothers #tokyorev #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers

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dickgrayson80sremixmp3 · 3 years

Text

jason_the_midnight.mp3

(baby wrote a songfic like it’s 2012)

writing tag/ ao3

People never look up in Gotham.

First of all, it's practically always raining. Heavy, slanting sheets of rain which more often than not sting the eyes in a way that pure water really shouldn't do. Secondly, you're likely to look up and see some supervillain cackle as they ready their death ray and then what? Better not to look at all.

All this means that a vigilante not long returned from the dead can observe the city go by beneath him in relative peace. Jason Todd, at twenty two, finally finds a sense of quiet he hasn't felt in a long time when he's perched up high on one of Gotham City's ubiquitous gargoyles, rain soaking his hair and the white streak the Pit gave him (that still surprises him in the mirror), watching cars drive past and Gothamites go about their business. The whole event makes him calm enough to finally give some thought to you (as if he hadn't thought of you every day since he'd come back, even when he was too raving with Pit madness to know who the girl in his mind was.)

After some digging, he'd discovered that you were studying at Gotham University, just like the two of you had planned at age fourteen, perched on the roof of the manor and staring at the stars, revelling in the moment before Alfred inevitably found you and made you get down where it was safe. Jason had always planned to major in English literature and minor in creative writing, and even today he feels the tug of need unfurl deep in his heart whenever he thinks of hurrying between lectures, scribbling lines into his notebooks, losing himself in the university library. Your plans had always been more hazy, swinging wildly between dreams of ancient philosophy, or sustainable development, or Asian cinema, or climate science. He wonders what you've settled on. He could easily find your transcript and know for certain but he still harbours a dream of making up with you, having you tell him your major and your plans and your dreams like a friend again.

Three nights a week, he discovers, you sing and occasionally play bass in a four piece band, performing in bars across South Gotham. You've been together since junior year of high school (after him, after he'd left you alone and gone and got himself blown up, a poisonous voice whispers in Jason's head as he hunches over his phone, reading your Spotify bio) - you the beautiful front woman with three other men on guitar, drums, and keyboards. Looks like she forgot you quickly enough, the voice suggests slyly and Jason can't find any way to argue. The few songs posted on your page reveal a dedication to the 80s retrowave, synth heavy music you'd loved back when he first knew you, a love shared by Dick. Jason remembers sitting in roiling jealousy as you and Dick excitedly swapped recommendations, as you sat up in the front seat of Dick's car while the two of you blasted your favourite tracks, Jason forgotten in the backseat. Just one more thing Dick had that he didn't.

The videos he finds under your tagged mentions show you in smoky, dingy bars, tall in platform sandals and wide, high waisted jeans, casually stunning in tiny strappy tank tops and dark eyeliner. His breath catches high in his chest as he watches these videos, heart hammering in his ears as he sees how you've grown up, hears your sultry, magnetic voice wind through his thoughts. The secret crush he'd always harboured rears itself with a vengeance at these moments, torturing him with images of what could've been, with the reminder that he really never had got over you.

Eventually Jason leans into the inevitable and turns up to some of your regular spots, nursing a surprisingly cheap drink and lurking towards the back of the room, where he can watch you but you can't spot him. Not that you would, even if you thought he looked familiar - your Jason was dead, wasn't he?

You look like a dream, hair loose, eyes sparkling in the dim lighting of the bar. The pink and blue neon lights flicker across the lines of your face, catching on the gold of your jewellery and dazzling him. Not just him, he quickly realises, as he hears the man to his left order a drink 'for the gorgeous singer' and he can't help but look. Blonde, well dressed in suit and tie even though his top buttons are undone and his hair is askew. He just screams 'financial district' and there's a smug surety in the way he stares at you, like he's confident you won't be able to resist him. Jason grits his teeth as he watches the barman catch your attention. You lean down to hear what he says into your ear as he hands you the glass, hair falling over your shoulder. As you straighten, your eyes scan the bar and Jason instinctively sinks lower into his collar. Your eyes slide right over him. The banker asshole raises his glass at you and you smile sweetly.

"Thanks for the drink Darren" you say, eyes crinkling at the edges, and "Darren" visibly puffs his chest, eyes trailing over your body shamelessly. Jason notices however that you only take one sip of the drink before setting it aside and not touching it again, and his shoulders release a little of their tension.

The bar closes at around 2am, and the band packs up just before this. You hop down off the stage, retrieving your bag from behind the bar, your platforms already swinging in your hand as you jam your feet into sneakers. You drag a huge grey hoodie over your tiny, spaghetti strap top, an old red jacket following quickly after. It's not until Jason's fifth or sixth time watching that he recognises the jacket as the one he used to wear everywhere as a fifteen year old, and his heart clenches a little at the realisation. A Styrofoam box of leftover bar food is pushed into your hands as you swing your bass over your shoulder, and you grin at the old barman as you wave to your bandmates, pausing at the door only to pull the hood up over your head as you run to catch the last night bus heading north towards 24th and Fairway. From the rooftops, Jason observes as you drop into a window seat, leaning your head against your bass and watching the raindrops slide down the glass for the forty five minutes it takes to get to your apartment building. He knows it’s weird to watch you like this, but panic claws its way up his throat every time he even imagines telling you he's still alive. Better that you never know, better you remember him as he was than be confronted with how he's changed, better that Jason never has to see Bruce's look of disappointment as it manifests on your face.

Far, far too early the next morning you emerge again, this time with sweats replacing your jeans and a backpack replacing your bass. Earphones jammed in your ears, you nod your head absently as you walk to class. There are dark circles under your eyes, and your hair is still wet from the shower and pulled into a hasty braid, and Jason can never bring himself to look away.

Some days he indulges himself, tucks one of the battered paperbacks he's swiped from the library at the manor into his back pocket, walks around the campus like he's a student. It's stupid, really, and the shame he can't shake makes him a little awkward, but none of the other students look twice at him, even on the hot days when he's still in long sleeves and jeans, keeping his hands tucked into his pockets to hide the thick bands of scar tissue across his knuckles. He's not even the biggest guy on campus, considering GU's mediocre football team, and generally Jason finds that an old ballcap to cover the white tuft in his hair and keeping his head bowed prevents anyone's gaze ever resting on him longer than a second.

It's useful, being so invisible, but lonely, and inevitably Jason gets too used to it.

He gets a fright, one day, when he's reading alone under a maple tree in the middle of the quad (Ray Bradbury, an old favourite) and suddenly hears your voice, loud and laughing, only a few feet away. He jumps, eyes flicking to you in panic, before he remembers himself and tucks his chin, lifting his book slightly to cover the bottom half of his face. His caution is ingrained but unwarranted; you never even glance at him. Safely unnoticed, he watches with an ache in his chest as you hurry across the grass, kicking your flipflops off as you go until you're barefoot, casual in a big white t shirt and cycle shorts. The man walking besides you carries your backpack, and hands it to you once you flop down besides a group of people just over from Jason (unlike him, they bask in the sun). He recognises your bandmates, young, handsome, confident, as well as some girls he's never seen before. They heckle through their laughter as you hug your companion goodbye, and the two of you grin good-naturedly as he says his goodbyes and continues across the quad. The chapter heading squiggles and winds across the page, and Jason can't keep his eyes off you now, however pathetic he feels. He notices everything, from the way you giggle wildly and whisper to your girlfriends to the way the boys grab at your bare legs and pinch your sides trying to find out what you're saying. You look comfortable and relaxed and so, so happy, as you pull your ponytail loose and flick the hair tie at the dark skinned boy besides you, that he almost can't stand it. He breathes through it, slowly, like Alfred showed him so long ago, and the lump in his throat lessens, and he's able to return to his book, even if the appeal has worn off slightly and he can still feel your presence burning in his peripheral vision.

That day, when he returns to his bare, empty apartment he resolves to at least try to stop torturing himself. It doesn't stop him dropping in to your shows at least once a week, but he's working on not wanting to cry every time he sees you. He cuts down on campus visits too, and squashes the disappointment when he doesn't see you in the quad again. Mostly. It's hard being dead.

"This is a new old song" you say one night, just before closing. "I wrote it a while back but I've never felt comfortable to sing it before now."

You pause for a moment, eyes casting down, and the blonde man in the denim jacket, the guitarist on your right, pats your arm gently. Jason recognises the longing look in his eyes as he looks at you as an expression he himself had worn most of his teen years. Hell, he's probably wearing it right now.

"It's about loving someone you can't have" you say, looking back out at the crowd again determinedly, "and it's called Jason"

Jason starts at this, his drink sloshing over the edge of his glass and onto the bar in front of him. Distracted by the heat curling up over his cheekbones, he almost misses the next words out of your mouth:

"Jason in this song is a bit of an asshole" you say, your lips quirking on one side, "which is a little unfair to the real Jason, who was wonderful."

Your eyes are soft as the band counts in and Jason stares unabashedly as you start to sing.

You were right, this Jason is an asshole, and it stings a bit to hear you sing 'he'll only let you down', but it's nothing compared to the ache he gets when you reach the chorus -

oh, Jason, tell me what you're chasing,

because the night will never give you what you want,

oh, Jason, and if you can't escape it,

I hope you find whatever you've been looking for'

- because even though there were never any other girls, not for him, it was true that he'd left you, ran out of your life calling something about finding his real mother and never came back...

Lost in his memories, his blood is rushing in his ears and he's rooted to the spot. Normally he's long gone by the time you're heading out but this time he's still sitting at the bar and you hurry past close enough to touch, close enough for him to briefly feel the warmth of your skin on his back. Luckily for him your attention is focussed on your phone screen, cursing as you see the time, and you pass by without noticing him. His breathing is unsteady as he grapples with the realisation that all that time he'd spent silently loving you, you'd been loving him right back.

Go after her! Something whispers to him, in a voice that sounds suspiciously like Dick.

Yeah. Yeah, maybe, Jason finally thinks, breathless.

Maybe.

(is the music based on my favourite music? yes. are the outfits based on my outfits? also yes. are the fuckin classes based on classes i’ve taken? i’ll give you three guesses)

tagging a couple of my favourite dc writers bc i am stupid and now can’t remember anyone else i like to read lmao anyways <3 @prettylittlebrownskingyal + @ereawrites + @angelz-dust <3

#writing #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fic #jason todd #jason todd headcanon #dc fic #dc x reader #batboys x reader #batboys fic #red hood x reader #red hood fic #red hood #tbh i'm kinda hazy on whether jason is red hood in this lmao #dc comics #also this song bops lol

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heybeybey · 3 years

Text

Of Bank Robberies and Math Lessons

@petra-realsnk shared on the Rivetra Writers discord a badass cottagecore outfit with a rifle for Petra and for some reason it reminded me of this fic idea I've had for sometime.

So here, have this drabble of Robinhood-type Criminal Petra x Elementary Math Teacher Levi because I want Levi in glasses and badass Petra Ral.

Also also, if you're curious why I chose math, there was one scene in the Junior High anime where Levi scored a high grade in the subject. Big brain, big dick. Just Petra's type

Word count: 1,369

Summary: She comes in and out of his life, but with how she's making a difference, he finds that he didn't really mind.

"You're here." He almost drops the math book in his hand when he sees a flash of ginger hair in the alleyway.

"Missed me, sir?" Petra teases, pulling on his cravat to lead him a bit further into the alley and away from from the prying eyes of school kids.

Levi shivers at that, huffing as he pushes the bridge of his glasses up to see her clearly. He takes in her white corset top, flowing dark red skirt and leather boots. She has a brown hooded cape on and he notices that the rifle gun on her side might be the reason for that. He notes how her outfit absolutely just screams Petra—feminine and dainty but still a spark that's waiting to burn.

He missed her, and he doesn't wait to lean down to capture her lips in a desperate kiss, an arm encircling her petite waist to pull her closer. It's been two weeks since he'd last seen her and he's taking every moment he can get to compensate for that.

"Tea?" she asks breathlessly and with a stupid smile on her face. He'd already dismissed his students and Levi was planning to grade papers back in his apartment, but he knows he can't deny her when they rarely even see each other.

He shrugs. "Why not."

- -

"So... how are your students?" He doesn't look up from his task as he answers Petra, content to just work while he basks in the presence of his girlfriend. They're currently in one of his favorite tea shops, with him grading papers and her sipping on her tea under her hood.

"Stupid as ever. There's this kid who I've been tutoring one-on-one for weeks now and he still keeps failing," he rants. "All he talks about are the titans outside the walls. I don't get paid enough for this bullshit."

"You should relax more, Levi." She reaches out, suddenly grabbing the glasses from the bridge of his nose while he was in the middle of encircling a student's final score. He gives out a "tch" in annoyance, moving to take the glasses back from her but just sighs when he sees that she's wearing it just to tease him. Petra looks so adorable cheekily smiling in his glasses that he almost allows her to have it for a little longer.

"I would but if you're surrounded by imbeciles, it's hard not to pop a vein."

"Cut them some slack, Levi. They're 10 years old."

"I was already forced into child labor when I was 11 years old, just so you know." He quips. Petra just rolls her eyes at that.

"Maybe if you loosen up a little, they wouldn't be so scared to actually ask you things they don't understand," Petra scolds lightly.

- -

They were lying naked on his bed, bodies covered in freshly-laundered sheets and breaths panting as they bask in their afterglow, when she drops the bomb.

"I wanted to say goodbye, Levi."

He's no stranger to this, to Petra popping in and out of his life. To be frank, he wasn't even that bothered. He does miss her whenever she'd disappear for weeks on end. Sometimes he'd start to worry if she was still even alive, only for her to pop back in, cheerfully greeting him with a "Hi Levi!" and peppering kisses all over his face.

Well-intentioned she and her group may be, Levi's pretty sure he's fucked up in the head for being smitten over a criminal the first time she robbed the bank while he was making a personal deposit.

Looking back, she may have been as smitten as he was. It turns out she popped up outside of the school he's teaching in two days after to introduce herself.

"The fuck are you doing here?" He eyes her suspiciously. Levi scans his surroundings, trying to find something that he can use against her in case she tries anything. He can't risk his students' safety.

"Wow, you're more paranoid now than when I placed a gun on your head and demanded you to put your hands up back in the bank." she replies, amused.

"Hmm. Well, as long as you don't miss our anniversary-"

"I meant for real." Levi's throat closes up at her words before he can even find the guts to say anything. "We'll be in Mitras tomorrow and we're taking on a big mission."

Petra looks away before continuing. "If we're successful, the money we'll be able to get is insane. Enough to feed all the kids in the Underground for at least a few months."

"I don't get it. You've been doing this for years. What makes this one different?"

"It's a heavily guarded bank in the capital, Levi. We heard that the establishment's been thriving on dirty money." She shrugs. "Thought we'd give it back to the people, as usual."

"Are you seriously going to die on me? You?"

Petra's musical laughter rings through the room.

"No, dummy. If I died, how will we give it to those that need it the most?" she said, but her voice takes on a morose tone. "But we heard the owners have a high position close to the crown. I'll be in hiding until who knows when. Most of our contacts who've dealt with them before disappeared after just a week or two."

Petra fully turns to him, eyes soft. "I just... I don't want you to get mixed up in anything."

Levi bitterly looks away from her sad amber eyes. "So you're just going to leave me. In case you don't remember Petra, I can protect myself."

She cups his cheek at that, running a thumb from the corner of his eye to his cheekbone.

"I know that," she says. "But you must also know that I'd protect you whenever and however I could. Doing this is the only way I can guarantee your safety."

He suppose he should've seen this coming. What did he expect? For him to come home from work and find Petra sitting around back in this apartment as his housewife? The military police would find her in a heartbeat if she stayed in one place for so long. And with a portfolio of bank robberies and noble hostages under her belt, he doubts she'd get less than a decade behind bars, even if she'd never committed anything as serious as murder.

A part of him wanted to come with her. It's not like he didn't have experience. He'd been in and out of juvy for most of his teenage years, but he also knows that he wouldn't make Petra happy that way.

As illegal as their methods may be, Petra and her group are actually making a difference. Significantly more than the government who promises that "they're for the people". He'd heard stories of how she'd help expose corrupt official, then funnelling the man's dirty money to a dying hospital in a village within Wall Rose instead. He'd heard small family businesses getting another chance because wads of cash just showed up on their doorstep, giving them enough capital to start anew. And those are just a few in the three years that they've been doing this.

He decides to savour this moment with her instead, taking in her amber orbs staring up in content at him. He tugs on a ginger strand of hair and runs it lovingly down his two fingers. Even if he tries to convince her, Petra was made for greater (albeit a tad bit fucked up) things.

"I.." He gulps, trying to find the courage to finally say those words because this may be his last chance. Levi sees her giving him a soft look, her hand running up his bare back to pull him closer.

Petra understands, beating him to it. "I love you too, Levi."

#I'm sorryyyyy I promise I'll get the angsty Rivetra 9k oneshot + Oceans to Part update out soon #😭#rivetra #petra ral #levi ackerman #rivapeto #levi x petra #petra x levi #it's 4 am and i feel so alive

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allonsos-evil-lair · 3 years

Photo

Raphs’ Wrestlemania

“And Galileo is down! Another victim of Abe Lincoln’s Four Score Fisticuffs! The Liberty League wins!”

Raph smiled to himself. Seeing the tag team match between the Sci Squad and the Liberty League brought to mind the claim that Donnie had made about being able to kick Galileo’s butt. The snapping turtle agreed wholeheartedly, especially after that performance.

Raph shifted in his seat, grateful that the New York Wrestledrome had bench seating to accommodate his larger size. He glanced to his right as his dimensional counterpart shouted enthusiastically. The other turtle jumped to his feet, showering popcorn over the floor and the front of the trenchcoat he was wearing as a disguise. When he sat down again, Raph couldn’t help but be glad that he was enjoying himself.

“Aw man, I haven’t had this much fun since the last time me and Casey kicked Purple Dragon butt.”

“What’d I tell ya, Junior,” said the counterpart to the snapper’s left, his voice thick with a Brooklyn accent. His disguise consisted of a sweatshirt, sweatpants and a hoodie, similar to Raph’s own disguise. “Wrestling's the greatest sport there ever was.”

The right counterpart, nicknamed Junior, was shorter than the rest of the Raph counterparts and had been begrudgingly given the nickname. He was also one of the only ones to have a girlfriend, who he had met while he was in space, so any teasing about his stature had been very short-lived.

The counterpart to Raph’s left had been nicknamed Rollerblades initially, due to his and his brothers’ more individualized modes of skating or riding around the sewers, though it was often shortened down to just Roller.

Both of the other Raphaels were a lot more gruff then Raph would have expected at first. He had found them a little intimidating at first. They had so many cool stories to tell and had done so much with their brothers; going to space, time travel, saving the world. He had felt a little inadequate at first. But they had been impressed that he had been the leader of his brothers and the two of them had warmed up to him after a while.

“You were totally right,” the shorter turtle agreed, “and it’s great that we can actually walk around, too.” He glanced around the stadium. “Nobody’s staring or screaming. Is it always like this?”

“Pretty much,” Raph replied. “Our New Yorkers see weird stuff all the time. What’s the difference if you add a couple more weirdos.”

Raph felt a tap on his left arm from Roller’s elbow.

“Hey Spikes,” he said, using the nickname that had been given to the snapper, “we gonna see that Ghostbear guy you keep talkin’ about?”

Spikes sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “Nah, I, uh, kinda ended his career.”

Both of the other turtles stared at him, nonplussed.

“Well, it was more Leo and me. Leo broke his winning streak and then we both beat him in the cage.”

The counterparts’ eyes widened, their mouths agape.

“You guys fought? Down there?!”

“IN THE CAGE?!?!”

Junior fell back in his seat, a look of newly-acquired admiration for his larger counterpart crossing his face. Roller turned to stare down at the ring as the next bout was starting, his lips parting into a grin that reminded Raph of Donnie’s face just before they had to stop him from doing something morally reprehensible.

The snapping turtle smiled nervously as Roller looked up at him.

“That gives me an idea.”

<<<>>>

“Iiiiin this corner,” the announcer declared over the loudspeaker, “ready to fight for the title of triple tag team champions, we have the Liberty League! With George Washington, Abe Lincoln and Liberty Bell!”

The patrons of the wrestledrome cheered or booed, depending on their opinion of the team in question.

“Aaaaand in this corner, after defeating Ghostbear his first time in the ring, he’s back with some friends to bring the pain! Give it up foooooooorr... Red Rage and his Crimson Crushers!”

The crowd roared as Red Rage leapt over the ropes and stood tall and intimidating in his red and black jacket and cargo pants.

The announcer continued, “...Turtle Terror,...”

Roller leapt into the ring, dressed in a black jumpsuit.

“...aaand Terra-Pain!”

Junior jumped up to join them, wearing a dark brown leather jacket with a hood and an altered mask that covered more of his face.

Roller grinned as he took his stance. “This is gonna be great!”

Junior followed suit, letting out a low chuckle in anticipation of the ensuing violence.

Spikes punched his fist into the palm of his hand to keep up the intimidating look. “Just don’t go too hard on ‘em, OK guys? They’re still just normal humans.”

The other two turtles nodded their understanding.

The announcer raised his hand. “Fight!”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- More interactions with turtles of the multiverse. This time the Raphs all hang out watching wrestling. I downloaded my first brush for this one, using a crowd brush I found online to make the stadium patrons in the background. Roller (03 Raph)'s costume is Raph's costume and occasional outfit from the TMNT Adventures Series by Archie comics.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #raphael #raph #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2003 #allonsbro #saverottmnt #rottmnt

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teaspoon-full-of-sugar · 4 years

Text

wrong

pairing: stanley barber x reader

warnings: drug use (of course), spoilers for season finale, arguments, cursing

word count: 2.2 k

synopsis: in which stanley is in love with his best friend, and y/n has had enough of the distance.

—

Stanley Barber remembers vividly the first time he ever got high.

He was barely 13 when he found his father's stash in the old china chest in the corner of the dining room, and it took him a couple months to gather the courage to actually use it. His mother was gone, claiming to be at the neighbor lady's house for a "wine night"; he later found out that she went there to sleep with the neighbor lady's husband. He couldn't blame her for the affair, though.

Looking back on that night, he sounds a little pitiful. He was by himself, coughing and choking on the burning smoke. He laughed and talked to himself until he passed out, content and calm. It wasn't an overwhelming high, or an exhausting high, or even a powerful high, but he would never forget that night.

The next morning, he woke up with a foggy mind, burning eyes, and a wide smile. He strutted proudly out of his house that morning, his satchel dragging behind him, and quickly caught up to his neighbor, Y/N, who had her baggy hoodie bundled in her arms, wrapped tightly around her middle as she sluggishly walked down the wet sidewalk. He remembers the sour look on her face, her eyes downcast and heavy as she grumbled about how early it was. She gave him an incredulous look when he told her about his escapades the night before; she didn't believe him. A part of him was offended when she started laughing, brows cocked with judgment in her eyes.

"I swear," he said. "I'll prove it to you."

She just rolled her eyes, nudged him with her elbow, and scoffed.

"Sure, Stan."

Later that night, he took her to the basement, offered her a joint, and the rest is history.

That was also the night that Stanley Barber finally admitted to himself that he liked Y/N.

He knew that night they first got high together. He knew when he saw that blissful smile on her lips, when her nose scrunched up when she laughed, and when she fell asleep on his arm, features happy and carefree and relaxed. He knew when they woke the next morning, her eyes swollen with sleep, that he would do anything to see her that happy again.

Now that he's (almost) a man and in high school, he can assuredly say that he loves her.

But Stanley Barber, to put it lightly, is weak, riddled with anxiety and self-doubt, so he's never had the courage to tell her how he feels. Every weekend for the past three years, he has wanted to confess his undying love for her, like in the movies. He's thought about it so many different ways; maybe one night he would hold a boombox outside her house, or he would just gather the courage to kiss her. He dreamed of her, holding his hands one night after getting high, and while he was rambling about the meaning of life, she would cut him off by kissing him, her lips tasting like weed and Oreo's and something that is just uniquely her.

But that never happens.

In his junior year of high school, he is confident for once in his life, and he asks Syd out. He never really considered why he wasn't nervous when he asked Syd out. Perhaps, it was because he was certain she wouldn't say no, or, and this is the more likely scenario of the two, he didn't really care if she shot him down. He didn't care if Sydney refused his advances because she wasn't really the one who he had feelings for; she wasn't the one who occupied his every thought. Sydney wasn't the one who held his heart. God, that sounds stupidly sappy. He hates himself for even thinking that.

But he could learn. He could learn to love her as much as he loves his best friend.

Or at least that's what he tells himself.

Nevertheless, he started seeing more and more of Sydney Novak and less of Y/N. He tried not to notice, but he did. (Of course, he did). Y/N would claim to have to stay in class for lunch to finish a project, and then, she started walking home after school instead of riding home with him. Soon, she stopped showing up to their weekend hangouts, which were once filled with smoke, laughter and blissful stories.

It was a good thing, he told himself over and over. It was a good thing. He needed to get out of that relationship. It was starting to take a toll on his mental health. He eventually started to push Sydney into the void that Y/N once had.

When Sydney told him about her mind powers or whatever, it was just another thing to distract him.

That's all everything was anymore: a distraction from his feelings.

Then, it all went to shit. All those distractions and excuses he made came crumbling down.

It's the night of Homecoming. Sydney left him for Dina as soon as they got there, but he didn't expect any different. Y/N isn't there; no one asked her, and he hadn't bothered seeing if she would want to go with him and Sydney, since she hadn't bothered talking to him for the past weeks, even though it was basically his fault. He doesn't dwell on that thought. Then, Bradley pushed Sydney too far, and well... he lost his head. The drive home is a blur of sirens, flashing lights, and blood. He couldn't find Sydney.

He comes home that night to see Y/N lying on his bed, feet propped up on his pillow with too-big socks slipping off her heels. She doesn't move when he kicks his shoes off, unbuttons his shirt; she doesn't look at him, not even when he slips under the covers beside her.

"How was your night?" He asks, but she doesn't answer, the sound of her shallow breaths being the only sound in the room, besides the buzzing from the old lights by the bar. He sighs. "My night was great. Thanks for asking."

He wants to burst, anger and insecurity making it hard for him to breath. He wants so badly to tell her everything: what's been going on with Sydney, with Bradley; he wants to scream until his lungs give out because he just feels like no one can hear him, or even notice him for that matter. He wants her to know how much he wishes she was with him tonight, how she makes things easier for him. He just wishes she could understand, but she won't, and she never will. Why? Because he is a scared little boy, and that's all he'll ever be.

"Don't be a dick, Stan," she mutters, words slurring together slightly.

"How high are you?"

"Too high," she answers, trying to keep her composure. That's when he notices her legs twitching, her barely open eyes, a half eaten Cosmic Brownie and a crumpled water bottle on the ground.

"Do you need to throw up?" He asks tiredly, knowing how she can get when she's had too much, and, judging by her sluggish movements, she's nearly there.

"No." She says.

They sit in silence, and for the first time in the history of their friendship, it's awkward.

"I'm mad at you," she says suddenly. "I am very angry with you." Her voice breaks toward the end. He can't see it, but a tear slips down Y/N's cheek, wetting her hair.

He never noticed how much of an effect it had on her when he left. Stan was her only friend, and the fact that he left her alone for some other girl made her understand how fragile she feels without Stan beside her. She hates how dependent she is on him, so she did what any other person would do: pushed herself away. She always thought that it was always going to be just her and Stan, but she was sorely mistaken. It was petty, really. It started off with little things, like being snippy whenever he brought Syd up; then it escalated, and it eventually got to the point where she would leave whenever Sydney was going to come over.

When Stan told her that he and Sydney slept together, it was over.

Y/N hated how many tears she cried for him. She hated the fact that she was never good enough for him. She hated having those stupid memories with him, and she hated the fact that she still loved him. Despite the fact that he seemed to care so little about their friendship, despite the pain he put her through, she couldn't get him out of her head; she couldn't sleep without dreaming of him, and her days were plagued with thoughts of him.

And it broke her to see him so happy with someone else.

So, she cut herself out of his life completely because surely, she would be fine on her own, right?

Once again, she was mistaken.

Despite how hurt and resentful she was, she could not stay away.

"Why? Is that why you've been avoiding me? I haven't seen you in weeks, and now, you come around when you need a hit. And you break into my room and use my stash. What the hell, Y/N? You're angry with me? I should be angry with you," he spits, sitting up quickly.

She shakes her head, breathing out through her nose. She turns onto her side, facing away from him. He feels his face heat up, anger and frustration seeping through every pore, but behind all that—the hurt and the resentment—he feels empty and broken.

"Fucking look at me, Y/N," he grits out, his emotions getting the better of him. Stanley has always been a picker; he pushes and pushes until he gets a reaction out of the person. He did the same with Sydney at the bowling alley (and he nearly got his head taken off) and he does the same with his father. Maybe it's to get a reaction or attention.

"Why are you angry with me? Huh?" He asks again, poking her and pulling at her arm to make her look at him.

"What is wrong with me?" She sits up suddenly, making them nose-to-nose. Stan visibly recoils, brows furrowing and lips twitching. She looks tired, her shoulders sagging.

"What?"

"What is so wrong with me, huh?" Her bottom lip trembles, and tears swell in her red, hooded eyes. "I have been with you through everything, with your dad, your mom—" She looks down at her trembling hands, snot dripping from her nose. She wipes it away with the sleeve of her sweater, sighing weakly. "Then, suddenly, that's not enough, and you ditch me for Sydney fucking Novak, and you—you..." The words die on her tongue, and she looks so sad, her lips puckered to keep from crying any more. "You kiss her and hug her and—" She swallows, pain etching her features. She curls into herself, hugging a knee to her chest. "What is so wrong with me?"

Stan is in absolute awe. He wants to pull her into his arms and sink into the comforter, kissing her, but he can barely move, his heart racing in his chest. He stutters, looking for the right words. This is it; this is the moment he has been waiting for. The past three years he has dreamed of her baring her heart to him, professing her undeniable love for him, but he can't even speak. He is, for once in his life, completely at a loss for words. Whether from frustration or elation, he doesn't know, but he can feel tears forming in his eyes, nose burning and skin clammy. He lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding on to, his heart racing.

He shakily puts his hands to the crook of her neck, holding onto her warm skin like a lifeline. He looks down at her lips; they're tucked into her mouth, teeth biting at them nervously. His thumb traces the bottom lip, easing it out from her teeth. She looks at him with anxious eyes, wide and pleading for him to make a move.

And he does.

He kisses her.

It's not what he expects, really. There isn't any fireworks or chills, and it doesn't leave him gasping for breath. No, in fact, it feels like he's breathing for the first time; it fills him with warmth and security and such relief. And as she holds onto him, her arms wrapped tightly around his middle, he has never felt more at home. He has never felt so content and peaceful.

"Absolutely nothing," he says after they pull apart, resting his forehead against hers. It feels like there has been a weight lifted off his shoulders. He runs his thumb over her cheek, wiping away tear marks from her skin. She sniffles, leaning into his touch. He kisses her nose, a wide smile creeping over his features.

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with you."

#this is kind of a mess #im sorry #:/#stanley barber #stanley barber imagine #stanley barber x reader #i am not okay with this #ianowt #ianowt imagine #ellie writes #ellie writes angst #ellie writes fluff #ish

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thewritingstar · 3 years

Text

Like Fallen Snow

ahhh im super excited because I was @empress-of-mischief secret Santa for the Powerpuff secret Santa! I hope that this fic fills you will joy my dear. I rarely write for the blues and wanted to give it my best. I hope you had a wonderful xmas too.

Pairing: Boomubbles

Fandom: PPG

---

Christmas was an exciting time of the year. Even Boomer who would rather be alone in his room blasting rock music in his headphones could be found sitting in the living room with his brothers early in the morning. It would start with them racing out of their bedrooms at an ungodly hour and putting on a pot of coffee for their monkey of a father before summoning their demon dad for gifts.

Having super villains for dads had some perks like giant lasers, rocket ships and enough weapons to destroy entire cities as if they forgot that the boys themselves were better than any military grade weapon. So when it came time to open gifts, even Boomer could give enough to smile as he unwrapped a taser gun that he automatically shot at Butch and blue fuzzy socks that matched the red and green ones.

Making sure the superpowered boys were happy on the holiday was something that Mojo and Him had decided was the best, not to keep them entertained but also to keep the running feud of who the best father was. Even though Boomer was happy to accept anything wrapped up with a bow, he had always felt something missing. He had to give Him and Mojo credit because as they got older, the gifts actually became personal.

They were now in their junior year of high school. The boys ‘bad-boy’ vibe wasn’t really cutting it with them and giant machinery wasn’t going to be the hot ticket for the year. Instead Brick ended up with a ton of books and gourment coffee, Butch calling him a big ass nerd of course, which was to prove his point that he was smarter than all of them and may or may not have been to either aggravate or impress a certain puff. For Butch his collection of vinyl recorders, skateboard parts and sport equipment was enough to keep him satisfied and have enough to spark envy with Buttercup. Boomer appreciated the brand new wall of guitars that he had been begging for, drums and a flute that he didn’t remember knowing how to play but hey, how hard could it be?

“Boomer, my dear boy, you keep looking at your phone. Is there somewhere else you’d rather be?” Him asked as he narrowed his eyes in a way that made Boomer snap his phone off.

Embarrassment crawled through him as all eyes were on him and even Mojo who was in the kitchen making pancakes but more or less listening in.

“Oh um, it was just I had a present for a couple friends and was wondering if I could give it to them before it gets dark.” Boomer responded.

“It's eight in the morning, dumbass. It's not close to being dark yet.” Butch said as he threw a football at the blondes head and let out a scream when the rubber turned to dust from the blue laser beams.

“You can say Bubbles.” Brick snorted and Boomer shot him a glare. That was a secret!

“Oh? She is quite the cutie.” Him smirked and Butch barked out a laugh as he smacked Boomers side with a wag of the eyebrows.

“Forget it, you all are weird. I’ll see you for breakfast, I’ll be quick.” Boomer huffed and went up to his room to change before flying out the window.

“Tell your little girlfriend hi for us!” He heard Butch shout and he knew damn well the whole neighbor hood could probably hear him.

“Not my girlfriend.” He mumbled to himself as he found his way to the park.

Since the beginning of his life it had always been the ruffs vs the puffs. Destined by his fathers orders and demands, Boomer always followed in that direction no matter what. He didn’t waver from the line drawn in the sand. Even though his brothers began to tip toe around it when they got older, stupid hormones, and yet he never strayed.

He could maybe understand their reasoning. It would make sense to be drawn to the enemy in a way he rarely understood, but still his blood flowed with destruction and determination to rule the world and some girl with pigtails wasn’t going to change that. Or so he thought.

He would consider himself an introvert to his counterpart’s over the top bubbly personality, her name truly suited her. Unlike their siblings, they seemed to rival the most in the sharing of traits.

And yet they had become friends first. It was a bonding experience over milkshakes and a painstaking talk about how they don’t live up to their siblings' powers, how they felt like they were the weak ones. He thought about how Brick and Butch had more muscle power but to hear Bubbles have her own doubts made his stomach turn and for some reason, their friendship bloomed.

Boomer could say that she was his best friend. Not too many people had gained the title of being his friend compared to her, who had most of the school fawning over her charm even if she didn’t notice. But that's what he liked about her. She was like him and while he was confined to her and shared his fears, she could do the same because at the end of the day, they were counterparts. One half of the same coin that would understand the other without any words.

So maybe that's why he was extremely nervous right now. They had been besties, as she called it, for a while and even though gift giving wasn’t out of the ordinary, he wondered what it would be like to be more.

Tell your little girlfriend hi for us!

Much more.

His thoughts were interrupted when the blue puff landed at the foot of the gazebo and sat on the bench next to him.

“Hey Boomie.” She smiled brightly and at first the nickname bothered him but now it was stuck like honey. It was weird when she didn’t say it.

“Hey Bubs.” He returned the smile. “How was your morning?”

“The usual. Blossom with her books and magazines, Buttercup and her weights and well I now have a new spring wardrobe. How about you?”

“Exactly that but I got a new guitar to tune.”

“Oooo you’ll have to play for me sometime.” She gushed and he felt the heat rise to his cheeks. It was the cold's fault, not the pretty blonde, he swears! “Now it's time for the present!” She clapped and put a tin that smelled that vanilla and cinnamon on his lap.

He already knew what they were as he had been bugging her to make her signature holiday cookies for months. Worth the wait.

“So I made you all some cookies, without my sister's help of course and then this is for you.” She handed him a box. The box was black with a navy blue bow. It was so perfect that it was almost comical. Opening the box, he removed the sparkly blue tissue paper.

“Oh wow, guitar picks.” He smiled as he took one out. It was wooden and had a small B with a heart engraved on it. “It's almost like you knew.”

“I had a feeling. You had been talking non stop about wanting one and whether I’d admit it or not, Him makes sure his dear baby boy gets a good present.” She giggled as she poked his cheek.

He rubbed his thumb over it, examining it and thinking about how nice it's going to feel while strumming. “These are really nice quality.”

“I made one from each adventure we went on. That’s made from a pine tree from our first camping trip with our friends. And this one is from the beach last summer.” She held up a slightly white one and at a closer look he realized that it was probably made from sea glass.

“You made these?” He asked in disbelief. “Is this made of bamboo?” He gasped. “When we raced to China?”

“Yep! I know it’s kinda lame but those places meant a lot for us, as friends.” She stumbled over the last part.

“I don’t think it’s lame at all. Pretty cool.” And he meant it. It was probably the most thoughtful gift he had ever received because it took him back to those happy days they had spent together.

“Cooler than a rocket?” She giggled.

“Even cooler than a rocket. Thank you.” He said and fished out her present from his pocket. “Mines not homemade but, ya know.” He scratched the back of his neck and handed her the small poorly wrapped box. “Don’t even comment on the wrapping.”

She held in a laugh. “I’m not.” Liar.

Carefully she tore off the paper and opened the box. “Boomer.”

“I hope it's the right one.”

She stared at the silver chain that had a silver pendant of the moon. When they walked through the mall, it had caught her eye and she spent the next hour talking about astrology and the phases of the moon. The minute that she went into another store, he ran back to purchase it. In the middle of August mind you.

“It's beautiful.” He could hear the sincerity in her voice as she turned her back to him and he helped her with the clasp. “Thank you, I love it so much.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a couple minutes, taking a few bites of the cookies. The peaceful morning in the park with no one around was perfect, he wasn’t a fan of crowds and maybe that's why she chose this spot because she knew they would be the only ones here.

“Oh look, it's snowing.” Bubbles gasped as she held out her hand to catch the small flakes coming in. “Isn’t it beautiful?” She asked and when he said yes, his eyes hadn’t come off of her.

She stood and walked a few feet out to twirl in the new snow and he shoved his hands in his pocket to keep them warm as he watched her with a smile. If she would have asked him to join her a couple years ago, he would have probably said no and told her to shove off, and now, he would have gone anywhere if she just asked.

Staring at her made him realize that he wanted something more with her. There had been a few occasions where the air around them shifted and for a single second, it was like she thought the same thing, but they would get interrupted and that moment would die and he would sit there and remember that he is her best friend, nothing more, nothing less. But what if he was?

He got to his fit and joined her, kicking around some snow with his shoe as his mind kept racing about every single possibility. Does he just tell her? Just ask? What if he read the signs wrong? What if he messes everything up?

“Isn’t it romantic?” His thoughts were ripped away as he turned towards her. She was looking up at the sky. “Like a Christmas movie. The first snow of the season is said to bring promise to a new love, funny huh?”

Boomers eyes widened suddenly. Was...was she wanting this to turn romantic? This entire time had he been pining from a far when she was ready to take the leap? No. they had talked about relationships before, well hers at least. She was probably just saying it because she was a hopeless romantic.

But then again, Bubbles had always been the bold type. Always telling him that she had been dropping hints for some guy and now come to think of it...had she been talking about him?

“Yeah, romantic.” He decided to finally respond.

He watched as her smile turned down slightly as she looked at him with a gaze he didn't recognize. “Well, I should probably be heading back home now.” She said somewhat sadly.

“Oh yeah, before the snow sets. Thank you by the way.” He held up the boxes and she gave him a better smile.

“Of course. And thank you for this.” She tugged on her necklace. “I’ll see you soon.” She said as she turned around and began to walk.

Something within him was yelling. An eternal battle now raging in his mind. What if he? No, he shouldn’t. But, imagine the positives.

He was hoping for a Christmas miracle.

Boomer ran up behind her, matching her speed as he grabbed her hand and turned her towards him before dropping it and rubbing his arm.

“Hey Bubbles?” Boomer asked nervously. His cheeks had decided to betray him and turn a pretty pink shade as Bubbles tilted her head.

“Yes?”

He sent his boxes down as her eyes remained on him. His hand shook nervously at his sides while her baby blue eyes looked at him. Butterflies were doing cartwheels in his stomach now but he was already here so...

“I have one last present but-” He gulped. “Y-you have to close your eyes.” He said as he took a step forward.

“Close my eyes?” She said with a small smile as he came even closer to her. His hands took hers softly as his thumb rubbed a slight circle on her hand.

“Yeah but if you don’t like it, you can return it.”

“Is that so?” She giggled as she stared into his eyes almost knowingly. “Well, I shouldn’t keep waiting then.” She said as her eyes closed and he felt like the world had disappeared around them, leaving them in the snowy park.

Boomer calmed his breathing as he stared at her. The soft pink of her cheeks from the bitter cold and how the smallest bit of snow landed on her lashes. Never before had his heart pounded as heavily as it did now as he closed the gap and kissed her with the gentleness of the first fallen snow.

He felt the sudden push against his lips. It was a beautiful sensation that he never thought would happen as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him further. It was an answer to a question he had been asking for months, hell, maybe even years. Wondering if he could step over this line in the sand and it would be okay. That their friendship, trust and loyalty wouldn’t be corrupted but instead, stronger. It was clear that the line had been stepped over, no, completely erased without a second thought.

Their lips pulled apart and he couldn’t tell if the redness up her neck was from the cold nipping at their skin or the intense blushing from what just happened. All he knew was that she was smiling at him, just like she always had before.

“Boomer?” Her voice was just loud enough for his ears.

“Yeah?” He said almost out of breath.

“I don’t need a gift receipt.”

That fluttering in his chest began again as his face broke out into the brightest smile she had ever seen.

“That's great news.” Boomer smirked as he spun her around and dipped her by the waist like he saw in all those cheesy romance movies. “Because the return date had just expired.” He said just as he kissed her again.

---

His hand was warm from the take out cup of hot chocolate while his other hand was laced with hers and it felt more natural than breathing. She took her own cup to her lips, tasting the sweet chocolate as it helped to heat up the rest of her body and he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not because he was still in disbelief that he was here with her.

Bubbles caught him staring and instead of a playful scold, she inched closer to him and placed a quick peck on his cheek.

“Merry Christmas Bubbles.”

“Merry Christmas.”

---

I hope you liked it <3

#powerpuffsecretsanta2020 #boombubbles #ppg x rrb #bubbles ppg #boomer ppg #bubbles x boomer #thewritingstar

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mythgirlimagines · 3 years

Photo

Talentswap Tuesday is today! Please keep your eyes peeled, or she just might jump out from the shadows to give you an impromptu makeover! It’s Myth, the Former Ultimate Makeup Artist!

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BACKSTORY AND TALENT

When you first of her talent, you would assume Myth to be some kind of Marylin Monroe-esque social media influencer. But despite Myth’s skill in standard makeup application, Myth’s speciality lies in horror and special effects. Able to turn a person from a beauty to a beast, Myth’s makeup skills are praised by both the horror fanatic crowd and the beautician crowd. As the third daughter to an American horror movie actor and a Ukrainian beautician, Myth’s talent manages to consist of the best of both worlds. Starting out as a humble assistant at some of her father‘s movie shoots, eventually Myth garnered internet fame for her tutorials on how to give yourself extra eyes or how to turn into a vampire. She still hasn’t lost any of her spooky and impish charm, even as an adult and chaperone of Hope’s Peak’s annual Kibo-Con field trip.

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RELATIONSHIP

Wyre Anon, Former Ultimate Storyteller

Folks come far and wide to hear Wyre’s macabre tales that can leave even the strongest of bodyguards shaking in their boots. Myth and Wyre knew each other ever since they were little, having bonded over their shared love of horror and the macabre. And you can bet your bottom dollar that their relationship is still going strong to this very day. Myth regularly helps Wyre with their makeup to up the horror factor, usually making Wyre resemble an oni or a dragon. This fearsome duo just love teaming up to scare the other Anons.

Outfit: White face paint with black circles around their eyes and cracks painted into their face, a large purple cape held together with a skull design, a black vest and red ascot over a white dress shirt, brown pants, black heeled boots.

Anon Scar, Ultimate Jazz Singer

With her proficient skill at both vocals and instruments, Anon Scar, also known by her stage name “Guardian of Soul”, managed to revitalize the jazz genre. You’d think that with her whole demon motif along with her cool and calm behavior on stage, Scar would be able to handle Myth’s horror. But all of that talk of demons and curses is merely a facade, concealing an easily-frazzled and heavily concerned mom friend. Myth loves drawing wounds on herself and pretending to be hurt around Scar, just to see Scar’s facade break.

Outfit: A black vest with a white music note design on the back over a white tank top, black pants, black fingerless gloves, a microphone around her right ear, the scarf and boots from her original design.

Fusion Anon, Ultimate Forensic Sociologist

An expert on human behaviors, body language and social interactions, Fusion possesses an uncanny intuition and can read people like a book, making him a tough nut to crack for the more deceptive and manipulative students. Despite his creepy intuition, Fusion remains a kind-hearted, almost paternal, young man. Myth was thinking that if Fusion wasn’t so kind-hearted and she touched up on his makeup, his freakish intuition and his freakishly thin and tall body would make him the perfect horror movie monster.

Outfit: An oversized dark blue trench coat, an equally large red scarf that covers his mouth, the pants, shoes and glasses from his original design.

Fusion Anon II, Ultimate Beatboxer

Conquering rap battles after rap battles, Fusion II is famous for both her epic beatboxing skills and the equally epic roasts of her opponents. But similar to Scar, Fusion II‘s sarcastic and flippant demeanour is merely a facade. Deep down, Fusion II is a massive nerd, particularly for literature and poetry. This love for the written word can be found in many lyrics of her rap songs. Myth finds Fusion II to be a fun person to scare, especially when the beatboxer is in the middle of one of her breakdancing sessions.

Outfit: A white jumpsuit that is undone at her waist revealing her red tanktop and fake gold heart necklace underneath, blue and white sneakers, black fingerless gloves, a couple of piercings in her ears, a red cap worn backwards, sunglasses from her original design.

Just Anon, Ultimate Seer

Ever since he was little, Janon has been having weird prophetic dreams and Janon felt the urge to draw them in his dream journal. Sleeping and drawing are about the only two things that Janon really puts effort into. Janon sleeps a lot to maximize the number of prophecies he can see, and he can get really grouchy if someone wakes him up in the middle of his dreams. As much as Janon tries to put up the image of a stoic emo, his ridiculous fashion sense and adorable appearance makes Janon Myth‘s number one teasing target.

Outfit: Back-length hair that he didn’t bother to cut with a couples of pencils stuck in, a pink ski cap with bunny ears, a white mask with a cat mouth and whiskers on them, a yellow raincoat, galaxy leggings, nothing on his feet.

Sparkle Anon, Former Ultimate Linguist

Coming from an influential family known for their international branches, Sparkle has a penchant for traveling and managed to pick up languages left and right. Currently speaking 14 languages at a native level, Sparkle has a loud, bombastic and dramatic personality. And that loud, bombastic and dramatic personality makes really great reactions to Myth’s jumpscares, along with the added bonus of hearing Sparkle curse in different languages. Sparkle would let Myth touch up on her makeup as long as Myth promises not to put gory details on the linguist’s face.

Outfit: A brown vest over a long-sleeved blue dress shirt, a brown skirt, grey nylons, black heels, a large cape with a map of the word on it, blue pauldrons.

Egg Anon, Former Ultimate Barista, and Wet Sock Anon, Former Ultimate Perfumer

With the twin’s love for the cursed and macabre, Myth got along with them like a house on fire. Myth regularly hangs out with Egg at their coffee house and exchange their regular cursed inside jokes over a nice cup of joe. Wet Sock, despite their bitter personality, produces some of the best-smelling and luxurious perfume in the known world. Wet Sock’s and Myth’s shared love of cosmetics makes them quite the cursed duo. Both of them may have growing feelings for Myth and they usually fight over her, much to Myth’s amusement.

Egg’s Outfit: A white polo shirt, a green apron, black pants and brown loafers.

Wet Sock’s Outfit: A white polo shirt, a black vest, black pants and brown loafers.

Curious Anon, Jr. Ultimate Fencer

Being raised by a prestigious family of fencers, Curious managed to dominate fencing tournaments despite their height and age. Curious is loyal, stalwart and above all else, chivalrous. Said chivalry earned them tons of admirers in their old private school. Similar to Fusion, Curious is also a tough nut to crack, for Curious just has this constant poker face, no matter what horrifying imagery Myth throws at them. But Myth is a determined little lass and will find a way to scare Curious, or she will die trying.

Outfit: Hair in a small ponytail, red and white jacket over a red vest and green tie over a white dress shirt, cream pants, black boots and gloves, always has their trusty rapier on their person.

Anon Nerd, Former Ultimate Lucky Student

Having been admitted to Hope’s Peak via a mere lottery, Anon Nerd has a foul mouth and an equally foul temper, which very clearly came from the poor hand in life that his bad luck gave him. Nerd doesn’t really have anything to his name apart from being part of his school‘s debate club and getting into screaming matches against 13 year olds online. Because of Nerd’s easily-enraged and overreacting personality, Myth finds Nerd in particular to be a fascinating subject to scare. Nerd’s blushy face is just so darn adorable!

Outfit: A black hoodie hood-up, black sweatpants, white socks, grey flip flops.

Eldritch Anon, Ultimate Crime Novelist

Famous for both his graphic and suspenseful novels and his general evasiveness about his personal information, it truly was a wonder that Myth‘s favorite crime novels were written by not only a Hope’s Peak student, but also someone who is 5 years her junior. Myth regularly tries to socialize with her hero in literature, but despite writing graphic crime novels, Eldritch is cowardly and runs away screaming at the slightest chance of danger. Myth’s generally creepy behavior and interests doesn’t really help matters.

Outfit: Longer hair in a ponytail, a dark purple vest with an orange question mark on the lapel over a long white dress shirt, an orange cravat, grey pants, black socks, black slip-on shoes.

Dream Anon, Ultimate Lighting Designer

Dream has become famous for catapulting her school’s theater club to stardom with her amazing light displays. Dream and Myth both have careers centered around show business, they both admire Eldritch Anon and his novels, and they both have outgoing and childish personalities. But a certain quality about Dream prevents Myth from putting her on her list of friends: Dream is a fashion disaster! Myth always tries to give Dream a makeover and a tirade about how crocs are evil, but everything goes in one ear and comes out the other.

Outfit: A blue headband, part of her hair is put into a small sidetail with a green scrunchie, her hair is dyed a rainbow of colors, a black tanktop, a black, white, and pink jacket draped over her shoulders, various fake gold jewelry, orange headphones, white jorts, a blue and purple stocking on her left leg and a green and yellow stocking on her right leg, red crocs.

Iris Anon, Ultimate Jack-Of-All-Trades

Unlike other Ultimates with a clear-cut talent, Iris has mastered a ton of talents but not to the point of Ultimate status. Iris’s unorthodox Ultimate makes her an enigma amongst the other Ultimates. Despite not knowing what her plans are for the future, Iris is determined to make the most of the vast array of skills she mastered. Iris is very optimistic, able to see the good in even the worst and cursed of monsters. Myth admires Iris’s determination and Myth regularly uses Iris as her pranking accomplice.

Outfit: A grey beanie cap with a dark blue star design, a green flannel jacket over a white t-shirt, a gold coin necklace, light blue jorts, white socks and green loafers with white soles, glasses and bandages from her original design.

Purple Anon, Ultimate Toxicologist

As the scion of an influential family in the science field, Purple Anon is hailed as a prodigy in the field of toxicology. Because of Purple’s upbringing, her vocabulary is both old-fashioned and heavily uses scientific jargon, which makes her speech very hard to decipher by the Anons, with a couple of exceptions. Purple has a timid and easy-to-startle personality, usually hiding behind her good friend, Fusion. Myth regularly consults Purple on any new makeup products, to make sure that the makeup isn’t toxic or an allergen.

This series centers around the gremlin make-up artist trying her best to scare her conmates, but eventually, she opens up to others and proves to be a bit of a cinnamon roll.

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PERSONALITY

Having been surrounded by horror for the majority of her life, MakeupArtist!Myth is unfazed at the prospect of horror and revels in the macabre and unnerving. Despite regularly getting kicks from scaring her fellow Anons, MakeupArtist!Myth has a surprisingly kind-hearted personality despite her impish and devious first impression, and can dial back her horror for people like Eldritch and Purple. MakeupArtist!Myth is a massive fashion police towards the other Anons, particularly towards LightingDesigner!Dream. ——————————————————-

APPEARANCE

MakeupArtist!Myth wears her dyed purple hair in two space buns that she keeps up with blue scrunchies with yellow stars on them. She also wears an oversized grey and black sweater, dark blue short overalls, white gyaru-style socks, and black Mary Janes. Holding up her shorts is a belt that holds a bunch of makeup supplies. MakeupArtist!Myth has the same glasses from her original design, which frame her adorable dot eyes with elaborately designed eyeshadow. ——————————————————-

I hope you like this Tuesday’s Talentswap! I can’t wait to hear what you think of it! By the way, I’d totally recommend “Danganronpa: The Wolf’s Game”, if you want to see another Killing Game with an Ultimate Linguist as the protagonist! I wonder how Wolf Game’s Ultimate Linguist would interact with your Ultimate Linguist!

-Fusion Anon

—

Dang I would so like to be this good at makeup XD Wyre and I actually have a friend who’s super good with horror makeup

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bellemorte180 · 4 years

Note

So this is submission I wanted to send in: Canonish or AUAH: Caroline is in either a red riding hood costume or a bunny costume, Jackson Kenner is in a wolf costume (bc puns) and they joke around, but Klaus is VERY jealous

Okay, so I combined this request with @clichefangirldreamer request below: Halloween themed smut fic! Canonish with no magic babies, and Caroline with her party planning expertise! I’ll let you decide how you want to incorporate smut into it!

“I didn’t expect you to actually come.” Caroline panted into Klaus’s mouth, as their lips broke apart from a fiery kiss. She was missing the party she had starved herself to plan but the fact that Klaus’s hand was up her little red riding hood skirt, pushed the thought out the window. She had been planning this Halloween party since she became the head of her sorority at the end of her junior year at Tulane but now she found that she wasn’t even able to enjoy the festivities. Granted it was her own fault. She was the one who texted Klaus a picture of her costume with the caption Is the big bad wolf going to eat me?

“How could I have turned down an invitation like that?” Klaus purred as his fingers curled inside her, hitting that spot just above her entrance. Caroline as his thumb flickered over her nub. “And then I come to your party to see you talking to that mutt Jackson. Tisk tisk, I don’t like it when I see another wolf salivating over what is mine. I have half a mind to rip his heart out.”

“Klaus! Please! Stop teasing me. You’re the only wolf I want. You know that. I left Mystic Falls for you. Stop teasing me.” Caroline tossed him an annoyed look as he chuckled at her. Klaus leaned in and kissed her. Their tongues mingled together as his fingers picked up the pace, thrusting in and out of her. The sound of the Halloween party raging outside her bedroom door that she was pressed up against. “Please, I’m close!”

“I suppose that means the big bad wolf should have his meal now.” Without another word, Klaus dropped to his knees. He slung her leg over his shoulder, pulled his fingers from her and gave her clit a long lick. Caroline tossed her head back, hitting it hard against the wooden door and cried out his name. She weaved her fingers through his curls and thrusted her hips forward against his face. Klaus’s tongue lapped and sucked at her clit causing her to scream his name loudly as she came.

“Klaus! Yes! Yes!” Caroline briefly heard the chatter outside the doors pause before moving on. As came down from her high, Klaus placed a few light kisses on her thigh before standing to his feet. Caroline brought him into a searing kiss, tasting herself on his lips. Her hands went to his belt, but Klaus stalled her.

“Oh no Sweetheart, I’m not done with you yet. I want Jackson to hear you scream.”

#klaroline #Klaroline after dark

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haloud · 4 years

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Ooo, Michael and Liz gen! How about a high school time stamp? Two AP kids both competing for valedictorian.

here ya go! i love these two sm

also on ao3

In the sixth grade, Liz Ortecho swears a solemn oath. She is going to vanquish Michael Guerin if it's the last thing she does. Standing there so smug with his first place science fair ribbon, with his stupid rocket. Anyone could make a stupid rocket. Liz absolutely does not spend the next month of her life obsessed with rocketry, striving with single-minded determination to outdo stupid Michael Guerin's extremely stupid first place project before deciding that rockets were so boring that only boring judges would like them and her efforts would be better spent on better things, like working her way through the rest of the Biology section at the library. Brains were her new favorite subject. Maybe if she understood them perfectly, she could engineer her own to never get beat by stupid Michael Guerin again. It doesn't help that Michael is apparently, suddenly best friends with Max Evans, so she sees him all the time now. And he always grins at her and goes "'sup, Ortecho?" like he knows exactly what he did. Vato. Let's see him be smug after Liz vanquishes him. It's the start of a truly epic feud. Rosa laughs at her for every extra hour she spends studying, every extra trip to the library, every time a perfect score on an assignment adds an extra strain of viciousness to her satisfaction. Rosa laughs even if it's kind of annoying to hear all about how stupid Michael Guerin thought that question 5 was C, HA. You'd think Rosa would have a better appreciation for the agonies and ecstasies of having an archnemesis.

On one of those extra trips to the library, Liz is deep into a plot to climb the shelves when no one’s looking when that hated voice says behind her:

“’Sup, Ortecho?”

And he plunks a stepping stool down in front of her. She glares at him. His face would look way better with a few extra holes in it.

Holding his hands up in surrender, he says: “What? I have to use it too to keep from killing myself by dropping forty pound textbooks on my head. Use the tools you’re given, okay?”

The worst thing about having an archnemesis? Sometimes they’re right.

In eighth grade, Michael Guerin breaks his arm. He tells the story of how it happened different every time, with the same grinning smugness that never fails to make Liz incandescent with hatred.

And then he bombs a math test. (Liz knows because she always sits where she can spy on his grades when they have classes together. Otherwise how will she know if she’s winning or not?)

Michael Guerin never fails math. The odd English project here and there, maybe; his favorite class to sleep in is History. It’s lackluster grades in those classes he seems not to care about that keeps Liz’s GPA maintaining a holding pattern above his. But in all the years Liz has known him, he’s never gotten anything less than a perfect score in Math or Science.

She stares at him, at his carefully blank face, at his infuriatingly casual sprawl in the desk, his legs hanging out in the aisle, his head almost on the desk of the kid behind him, his arm…

His dominant arm in a cast, cradled against his torso, preventing him from taking notes.

Well that just isn’t fair at all.

She spends the rest of the test review period copying her own notes for the past week in quick, neat shorthand. The second the bell rings, she’s out of her seat, smacking the originals down right in front of him.

“Don’t feel the need to give them back,” she said.

Michael’s face stays just as blank; in fact, he barely even looks at her. “What’s up, Ortecho? You won, why don’t you just enjoy it?”

“It’s no fun if it’s not fair, obviously. Just use the tools you’re given, why don’t you? It’s stupid that they haven’t given you a note taker anyway.”

“Yeah, well, a lot of things are stupid.”

But not Liz. She’s smart enough to know it’s gratitude that makes him actually join the Mathletes with her when they start high school, putting them on the same team for once, their two heads together leading New Roswell to its first championship in over a decade.

By junior year of high school, Liz and Rosa have saved up enough money between the two of them to buy a used car together. Liz is a perfect driver, perfect record, aced the test first try, doesn’t even speed..and the first time she takes the car out, she ends up on the side of the road, trying not to totally lose it while smoke pours out from under the hood.

This car took all her money and all of Rosa’s, how is it already broken? What will she tell Rosa? How will she afford a mechanic?

Better for it to break down now than for Mom to steal it next time she skips town, a vicious voice says in her mind, and that’s the final straw. Liz lets out a scream from behind clenched teeth and slams the hood down as hard as she can.

“’Sup, Ortecho?”

“Fuck off, Guerin!”

She doesn’t need to hear it, how he outscored her again in chemistry, doesn’t need to hear him ask if she’s got her SAT scores back yet. God, why does he have to be here now? She wants to revel in how she almost certainly schooled him at the essay, god damn it!

But he doesn’t even reply to the bile she spits at him, just pulls over in his beat up truck, pops the hood again, and clicks his tongue at whatever he sees in that tangled, bitter-smelling mess.

“Let’s hitch ‘er up, I’ll give you a tow to Sanders’ and drive you home.”

Liz puffs herself up, then lets it out slow. It’s Guerin. What’s he going to do, laugh at her? Not over this. He may be her archnemesis, but he’s not that.

“I can’t afford the fix,” she says.

“No charge.”

“What? No!”

“Look.” He smirks that awful smirk. “I know you’ll pay me back. We’ve got Physics together next year. Your anguish is all the payment I need.”

“Michael Guerin, you are the WORST.”

“That’s what they tell me.”

But he drives her home with the windows rolled down and lets her set the radio. The passing wind tosses both their hair and Liz laughs at how he looks with his curls in a wild frenzy all around him, and for long enough they’re both just kids. Not friends, no. Archrivals, which is, after all, the next best thing.

Liz was valedictorian. For what it’s worth.

“’Sup, Ortecho?”

Liz whirls around, and her dress whirls with her. Red, not white. Rosa was over the moon.

Michael is leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, vest and shirt half undone, looking ruffled and dreamy, like he just walked out of a magazine. Liz rolls her eyes at him.

“’Sup, sleazy best-man-seduces-the-bride stereotype?”

“Ouch.”

They both burst out into laughter, Liz doubling over and grabbing the vanity to stay upright, Michael buttoning himself all the way up to the top in a mocking show of modesty, until Liz’s laughter turns into anxious hiccupping and he drops the act as well.

“Liz, seriously, what’s up?”

His voice goes all concerned and understanding, the bastard.

“This is stupid, right? I mean, marriage is such a useless social construct now, and forty-one percent of first marriages end in divorce and fifty percent of all marriages, which is also a relevant statistic because I’ve already fucked over one fiancé in dramatic fashion and maybe I should just leave Max at the altar and get terrible person bingo, and—”

“Hey, Liz, hey, breathe.”

Michael helps her sit and rubs her back as she tries to head off hyperventilation.

“This isn’t stupid,” he says calmly. “You want this. You know you do. You already have Max heart and soul and all that sappy shit, it’s okay to want him legally, too. Use the tools you’re given, right?”

Liz sniffs and barks out a watery laugh. Dumbass.

“Who let you get all wise on me? I hate it.”

“Eh, I’m not wise, I just learned how to be a gracious loser.”

“What do you mean?”

“The big day? The fancy wedding, the ring on your finger? You win, Ortecho.” His face goes all wistful.

“Oh.”

Not knowing what to say, she knocks their shoulders together, and it makes him smile.

“Don’t worry about me. Since when have I ever been far behind?”

For their happiness, as hard-fought as it was, it feels right that they should watch it approaching together, neck and neck. Side by side, like all the best archrivals.

#my fic #liz ortecho #michael guerin #angsty-aliens

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blazonix · 3 years

Text

Another Sentence Challenge

5 randomly generated words for Gentlekid Thief AU and 15 for Laughing Into Hell AU

Gentlekid Thief AU

1. finance

It would come as a shock to most, but Red X’s job as a therapist does more to finance his supervillain career than any night of stealing jewels.

2. skilled

Batman may be more skilled than him when it comes to a fight, but Red X is more skilled than B when it comes to running away. That may not sound impressive, but he remains the only one able to escape the Batman.

3. slump

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Kon takes in the unhappy expression on Tim’s face and the makeup catalogue in his hands.

“I,” Tim declares with all the feeling of a man heading to the gallows, “am in a slump.”

“Can’t decide between the midnight blue or the haunting hour?” Kon guesses, catching sight of the mascara on the page.

“Angeline can only afford one!” Tim wails.

4. intervention

Tim’s looking through a clothing rack when Dick appears next to him with a set jaw and tense shoulders.

“Tim, this is an intervention.”

“You’re not taking my baby booties from me!” Tim clutches the shopping basket to him like a woman with her purse when out in Gotham at night.

“Tim, you’re sixteen. I’ll take you to the theme park or we’ll go train surfing. Just,” Dick waves a hand wearily, “put the baby clothes down.”

5. weapon

“Must all your weapons be shaped into an X?”

“You are asking that mister Bat-everything?”

Laughing Into Hell AU

1. multiply

One body, two bodies, three, four, five—“Look, Daddy,” Junior giggles from where she’s doing math in the middle of the warehouse, “I can multiply!”

“That’s my muffin!” Daddy coos as Junior beams up at him.

2. trap

Batman taught Robin how to hunt, but Joker taught Junior how to trap. She doesn’t like to admit it, but Tim likes luring her enemies to their own demise more than she does striking quick and silent.

3. bush

The first time Tim attempts to talk to Bruce at a party Diana put together, she ends up hiding in a bush. The second time she tries, she ends up hanging over the balcony by her fingertips until she finally falls into a confused Cassie’s arms.

4. vigorous

Tim doesn’t just spend her time reading or rocking back and forth on the couch; she keeps to her exercise and training. Diana is worried she’s being too vigorous in her attempts to stay in shape.

5. energy

When Tim becomes too harsh on her body, Diana calls Cassie who calls Bart, who takes her out for a relaxing night in the city. It usually doesn’t end well for everyone involved because Tim and Bart have too much built-up energy to remain docile for long.

6. countryside

When the city becomes too much, Bart takes Tim out to the countryside for some peace and quiet. They both absolutely hate it of course, but Junior hates it more; that’s all that matters sometimes.

7. nun

“Good thing you had your stick on you,” Bart rubs the back of his head sheepishly.

“Bart,” Tim stares at the woman lying on the floor and wonders if she’s dead or merely passed out, “that’s an assassin. What part screamed ‘nun’ at you?”

“She’s wearing a hood and a cross!”

“Anyone can wear a hood, and that’s a dagger not a cross.”

8. stick

“Also, my staff is not a stick.” She whaps Bart lightly with it. “Stop calling it that.”

9. tight

Tim can’t go back to being Robin, but she needs the costume’s measurements to begin working on her new identity. Bart catches her trying it on.

“Don’t you think your Robin outfit is getting kind of tight?”

“Shut up.”

10. history

Bart has problems keeping the history he knows and the history he’s living separated; he also blames himself for everything that changes for the worst. Tim’s worried enough that she’s working up the nerve to talk to Barry about it.

11. list

Papers litter the penthouse, each one a list of some sort. Tim is preparing for her comeback, and at the same time, she’s preparing to leave.

12. rebel

Tim knows that there are reasons dimension travel is universally banned, knows that Diana would caution her to keep her trips short and far apart. Too bad Thea’s always been a rebel at heart.

13. plug

“You-dip-tease,” Bart says awkwardly as he watches Tim install the equipment in her new secret lab. “Why that?”

“Because Penguin was taken, and I want to watch people’s reactions as they realize it means rock hopper,” Tim says absentmindedly before throwing a cable at Bart. “Plug that in.”

14. circulate

The news circulates Tim’s new masked appearance and code name. It’s rather fitting that this is how Batman and the others learn of her return considering that is how she found out about the new Robin.

15. speculate

Villains and heroes alike speculate over the mysterious new hero Eudyptes, but they’ll never know the truth. That a Robin lost her wings and gained sanctuary on the steady rock known as Diana.

#batman #fanfiction #sentence challenge

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