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avis-writeshq · 1 month

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not me asking for it https://www.tumblr.com/avis-writeshq/744966259884556288/if-someone-asks-for-it-ill-write-a-fic-based-on?source=share

pairing: s9!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship, SMUT warnings: 18+ CONTENT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !! oral fem receiving, spencer reid is a munch, hair pulling, fingering a/n: a promise is a promise !! based off of this post <3 i hope this lived up to expectations !! first time writing fem oral ha h a ha wc: 1.1k

Honestly, if there’s one person Spencer can blame for the situation he is currently in, he blames himself. After all, he should have known that a ‘gathering’ at Rossi’s house that was planned by Penelope would only call for a lot of teasing, a lot of ‘get to know each other!’ games (despite the fact that he has worked with this same team for more than seven years. What else is there to know?), and a lot of alcohol. He didn’t quite realise that these games would be of the drinking variety. Alas, here he is, sitting on one of Rossi’s incredibly expensive leather couches and cringing at the horrid taste of whiskey.

The game they’re currently playing is an alcoholic’s rendition of ‘who is most likely to?’, involving a thick stack of cards with different topics while each member of the team took turns reading out. Whoever ended up with the most amount fingers pointed in their direction was forced to drink.

Spencer hates this game. He has drank from his cup a grand total of six times, and he is not getting any more used to the spicy-poison-equivalent in his hand.

“Alright, this is a good one,” Derek announces with a manic snigger. “Who here is most likely to be a munch?”

There is no hesitation in anyone’s answers, and all six fingers point into Spencer’s direction. His jaw drops at the betrayal, his head spinning from the sheer amount of shots he had to take but also what the hell is a munch?

“I don’t even know what that means!” He insists.

“Oh–” Penelope wears a half delighted half pitying expression at his words. “We really need to get you onto the internet more. Reddit is probably up your alley.”

“Even Rossi knows what it means,” Emily cackles, gesturing to Rossi who looks all too pleased. “Hotch was my second option though.”

Aaron shrugs, sipping at his drink. “Guilty.”

A chorus of laughs and shrieks erupt from the group, leaving Spencer even more confused. “What?”

“Don’t Google it,” JJ chimes in. “Seriously.”

Spencer nods, and although he knows that he should have taken the warning seriously, the curiosity was getting to him and he had no choice but to search it up as soon as he got home. He gets the usual answers– the etymology of the word, what it means in the Oxford Dictionary, the popularity of the word since the early 1800s, and he really doesn’t understand what the fuss is. Does the team think that he eats loudly? Or that he chews with his mouth open? His brows furrow at the unsightly thought.

His interest soon shifts to a different a different link, namely The Urban Dictionary. He blinks, clicking on the link without much thought and– oh. He does not get much sleep that night.

***

Your relationship with Spencer isn’t a secret. At least, it was never supposed to be classified as such. He is simply an incredibly private person that even his closest friends don’t know that you exist. It simply never popped up in conversation– or so he says.

The relationship isn’t necessarily new either. It’s nearing the one year mark and you have gotten to the point where the two of you have been more ‘experimental’ when it comes to sex. He finds it embarrassing. You find it unsurprising that he would. You find it even more surprising when he breaks a kiss halfway to lower you onto his bed, your head falling to one of his very expensive memory foam pillows.

“I want to try something,” he announces softly into your ear, squeezing gently at your waist and looping his fingers into his shorts. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, body hot with anticipation as he pulls down your shorts. It’s only when he brings his face between your thighs do you realise what he intends to do. “Spence, you don’t have to–”

“I want to,” he repeats softly, his fingers running up and down the lacy fabric at your slit. “If you want me to stop, you can tell me.”

You shake your head immediately at that, your hands moving to his grip his shoulders. “No, I don’t want you to stop but– but Spence, this is the first time you’ve done this. It’s okay–”

“Let me do this for you,” he says, his breath ghosting against the sensitive skin of your thighs. “I’ve done my research.”

“What–”

You’re silenced as soon as he presses his lips to your cunt, only separated by your pretty lacy underwear. He groans quietly at the taste of your slick seeping through the fabric, and his hands hold onto your thighs to keep them parted. It’s so good, so good, but it just isn’t enough. He pushes the fabric to the side, watching the way it clings and sticks to your skin.

All it takes is one swipe of his tongue on your pretty clit for his brain to grow blank. The grip he has on your thighs grow firmer and his fingers dig in hard enough to leave little marks. His nose bumps against your clit while his tongue travels against your folds.

“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes against you, lapping at your dripping cunt. “Fuck, angel, you’re so beautiful.”

Then, he’s on you all over again. His lips wrap around your clit and he whines into you as he sucks at the bundle of nerves. Each one of his actions has your back lifting from the bed and your hands tugging at his curls, to which he responds with a quiet moan. Amidst the pleasure, your mind nags you to be gentle, and you loosen your grip despite it taking all of your self control.

“Do that again.” He says it as a demand, guiding your hands back into his hair. “Do it again, angel.”

His head is spinning and he craves for more of you, his tongue flattening against your clit over and over again. He brings his own fingers to brush against your entrance, coating them with your slick before slipping his middle finger inside. It’s only the first knuckle but it’s enough to have you squirming beneath him. He pushes further until it reaches all the way, and Spencer groans at the feeling of you tightening around him. He kisses your clit again at the same time he curls his finger inside you and it’s all too much.

“Spence–”

You gush around his finger and he licks and laps at your pussy like he needs it to breathe. His finger curls open and closed inside you while you rock your hips against his face, your grip on his hair tightening as each second of your high passes.

“So good,” Spencer moans, kissing your clit. “Taste so good. You can do one more, right, angel? Just one more, I promise.”

reblogs are always appreciated !!

tagging the people who commented on the original post: @mosaicbrokenherz @doigettokeepyou @goblinintheblog @cassioxpeiaxmgg @daddytenebra @lilliumrorum @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @lightreiding

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winterarmyy · 1 year

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Plot Twist | Part II

An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III* (end) | Extra

Words: 2.5k++ (whoops, this one’s longer)

Pairing: beefy mafia!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: only soft things most of the time. bucky's 'innocent' seduction, and reader is a bit extreme when she's angry. a bit of attempted murder but we can turn a blind eye on that. otherwise, safe to read.

A/N: Thank you so much for the incredible support from the previous chapter! I thought this gonna be a flop tbh. I’m still gonna do either way, it’s for my own indulgence after all. But, now that I know lots of you are on board, I’m thrilled to take y’all along for the ride! Enjoy!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

“Where is she?” Bucky had been searching for his wife in the crowd, but he was left disappointed when he wasn’t able to catch not even a glimpse of her.

Steve leaned closer, “Clint said they’re on the way a few minutes ago. They should be here any second now.” He informed.

Bucky seemed dissatisfied with his answer; maybe he should’ve come home first and come this gala with her. But Steve insisted that he was already late due to the flight delay, and he should just go straight from the airport. His wife would come later her own, should be fine.

“Fine my ass.” He thought. For some reason Bucky had been restless lately. Maybe he had been away from his wife for too long. He was thinking of taking some time off from this business, perhaps finally bringing Y/N to a trip somewhere.

They didn’t spend much time together, but when they did it was well-spent. At least that’s what Bucky think. After the reception ceremony, he brought Y/N straight home. He had to catch a flight later that night. Something about having “Some contract to settle at in Italy. I’ll be back in two weeks or so.”

Y/N was still in her wedding dress when he tell her the news. He remembered her looking sombre but she didn’t complaint at all; instead she looked up to him as said, “Have a safe trip, please.” Bucky didn’t expect her to look at him so yearningly. He wondered what was she thinking when she said that.

For a moment, he thought of cancelling everything and stay in New York. Spend time with her, get to know her. But thinking back about the piles of workload he had on his back, he quickly snapped back to reality.

As Bucky was walking out, about to leave his newly wedded wife at the door; he hesitated. He paused as his gaze trained on her, what should he do? Kiss her goodbye? Hug her?

Y/N looked up with eyes filled with confusion. Did he forget something? Is there something he wanted to tell her?

Bucky himself doesn’t know what to do. “Fuck it.” So, he simply turn around and left her internal questions unanswered. Trailing closely behind Steve greeted Y/N goodbye before jogging up to Bucky.

“Who’s in charge of her?” Bucky asked as him and Steve walked towards the car. “Clint.” Steve answered right when they meet up with Clint himself at the car door. Bucky sharpen his stare as Clint opened the door for him, “Keep me posted.” He ordered.

Turning back, Bucky took one last look at her; she was still standing stood at the entrance. Gloom seemed to surround her, but he could see she was trying to put up a strong face. His eyes soften for a second as he thought, “She does look gorgeous in that dress.”

He felt bad during the trip. He doesn’t particularly know why, but his heart aches whenever he thought of his wife was standing there when the car drove farther away from the mansion. Maybe it was the look she gave him before he left. Or maybe he was just getting mellow, as Steve said.

So, he did everything he could to make it up for his absence. Jewelleries, clothes, shoes; anything expensive that he set his eyes on when he was away. That was the only thing he can do; at least the only thing he knew women liked. Prettiest things for the prettiest lady.

Alas, none of the gifts he gave her ever really made her happy. Clint said she accepted it but always in a reluctant manner.

“He didn't have to give me this...”

“I can't possibly accept this...”

“Do I really have to…”

Her behavior left Bucky beyond puzzled. He didn’t know what to do; he barely knew her. So, he went with the most generic way to make a woman happy. Though it didn't completely backfire, but he wasn’t satisfied with her response.

Until one day, a ‘revelation’ he called. A ‘sign from God’ for those who believe. He found the answer when he was in Paris, two months after he was declared as a married man. On the way to his meeting, he drove by a cute café. Its’ surrounding layout was adorned mixture of white, pink, and peach roses. A thought came up to him as he remembered a moment during his wedding reception.

~Flashback~

“Do you think it's possible to keep my bouquet?” Bucky heard Y/N whispered to one of the wedding planners that attend the reception. The man nodded as he explained that he can arrange the request for her. She smiled brightly and thanked the man.

Bucky watched her with a spark of curiosity in his eyes. He had to ask, “You like roses?” it was short, straight to point. The question seemed to take her by surprise, Bucky never asked useless question like this.

“I love this particular type of rose.” She answered. A soft smile brightened her pretty face. A sincere expression that Bucky rarely sees in a person anymore.

He liked that.

He wanted to see more.

Wanting to continue the innocent conversation, he asked, “There's a difference?” He quirked an eyebrow.

It seems there was a silly thought that came across her mind as she giggled, “If I tell, it will only bore you.” she said.

There was glimmer in her eyes, purposely luring him to provoke her; a powerful seduction it was indeed, he leaned closer towards her, "Prove it."

~End Flashback~

“Steve, tell Clint to arrange a bouquet for her.” Bucky said, something in his eyes lifted his expression. There was no special occasion this time. It just reminds him of her.

Steve looked over him, “The usual red roses?” he asked, as if Bucky had done it was a daily occurrence.

“No…” an unconscious smile creeped up on him, "…white majolica spray roses." He said as he recalled the way she said it.

Turns out that was the best gift amongst all he gave so far. His chest seemed to tighten and soared at the time whenever he recalled how Clint explained her reaction to it.

“The widest smile he ever saw.” Clint said.

Too bad Bucky wasn't there to see it for himself.

Bucky was woken from his daydream when he heard a commission at the other side of the hall. When he turned to his left, he didn’t see Steve anywhere, he was supposed to be there. But it didn’t take long until Steve popped up in his view.

Steve walked up to the group of where Bucky was hanging around since he arrived. He faked the sincerest smile at them, “Gentlemen.” He nodded once, before leaning closer to Bucky, “It’s Y/N.”

Upon hearing her name, Bucky didn’t waste any more of his time with the meaningless small talk and left the group. Unlikely of him to leave without a proper greeting but it’s his wife for fuck’s sake.

Bucky nearly printed, “She arrived a few minutes ago and went to grab a drink.” Steve said. His brows quirked into a deeper frown, “Unsupervised? In here?” Bucky growled. Steve knew better to leave his wife in this ‘battlefield’ alone. “No, Clint was...”

The first thought that came to him was she was in danger and that pumped a rush of adrenaline through him. But it was far from the truth. In fact, quite the opposite. When Bucky managed to slither through the crowd he ended up stopping at his track.

His wife was the center of attention; two feet in front of her was a woman, tall and blonde. An empty glass in Y/N’s hand. Red wine soaked into the silk of her dress; leaving an eye-sore of a stain on her beautiful lilac dress.

“Do you think this is funny?” there was a grit in Y/N’s voice, nothing like the gentle tone she used around Bucky.

Foolish woman she was, that blonde, believing what she did was amusing. Purposely stepping on Y/N’s dress, and when she was left unguarded the woman lifted the bottom of the glass that Y/N was holding spilling the deep red drink on her dress.

“It’s a little bit funny.” The blonde giggled gleefully. And she was out there thinking that ridiculing Y/N Barnes was a humorous joke. Unaware of how petrified the people surrounding them. No one messes with Barnes. No one.

Y/N stood tall and proud; she tried to remain unfazed by childish tricks as this. A smile curved on her lips; with a wave of her hand, a waiter came to her side and take away the empty glass from her hand before quickly retreated.

She walked gracefully towards the woman; surely the blonde was taller than her but somehow Y/N managed to make her feel like she was being looked down upon, “Oh dear…” Y/N chuckled.

Despite the light laughter from Y/N, there was a sudden change in the thickness of the atmosphere. It was much heavier, sturdier, quieter. Standing face to face, eye to eye, the dumb blonde finally realized the trouble she was in, especially with wordless superiority that Y/N was exuding.

Very much resembling Bucky’s, or perhaps the very opposite.

If Bucky’s was winter cold, hers was searing fire.

“Go ahead, laugh again. Best believe that I will shove this knife down your throat when you do.”, what a menacing gaze in those coffee-stained eyes of hers.

The woman was caught of guard when she saw a blade in Y/N’s hand. When did she got her hands on one of those? Perhaps if she was vigilant enough, she would’ve seen when Y/N pulled the knife from her thigh strap from the hidden side of her leg.

Alas she was stupidly brave to counter Y/N’s threat. “I-in front of these p-people? You wouldn’t dare.” She stumbled upon her own words.

Amused, Y/N simply smiled, “You think they would care? Look around, you fool.”

The crowd was split into two categories; those who was scared for their own life and those who wanted to see blood. But both of them doesn’t give enough of a care about the life of another foolish woman who doesn’t know her place.

Y/N was right. And the woman was deemed to meet her doom.

“Come on now, ‘it’s a little bit funny’ right?” Y/N taunted her with a wickedly innocent giggle, before charging the knife to the woman’s throat.

Y/N was expecting to feel the blade sunk into her flesh, thrilling to see blood spilled from the wound but instead, she was stopped by a grip on her wrist, pulling her away from her target, “Woah there, tiger.” She recognized this voice anywhere.

“Bucky…” she whispered his name as he pulled her closer; her back flushed against his sturdy chest, muscular arms around her waist. “Okay, okay. Easy now...” His hand grazed along her wrist up to her palm, taking away the weapon from her hand.

“That’s it. Calm down, honey. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt, would we?” Bucky dipped his face to the side of her neck, whispering sweet nothings in her ear; his thumb rubbing her waist, coaxing her to submit. Y/N does not know what kind of sorcery was involved, but he managed to calm her down. She leaned further into his embrace as she place her hand top of Bucky’s.

Bucky eyed Steve, giving a signal to take care of the rest of the mess, as he gracefully lead his wife away, towards the balcony for some privacy. As soon as they step outside, the cold air breezed on the surface of her exposed skin, waking her up from the lavender haze Bucky lured her into.

Having her back facing towards Bucky, she could hear him closing the door and walking up to her. She was still pissed off about the whole ordeal, but somehow her husband still managed to sway her around to face him, “It’s just a dress, we can buy more it you want.” He coaxed with a gentle caress on her arms.

“That’s not the point.” She spat, an upset frown decorating her pretty face.

But that only soften Bucky even more, “Then?”

However, she remained silence. In fact, she doesn’t know how to say it. She just looks down at the stain on her dress, “It was a gift from you.” and yet the words left unsaid.

Bucky followed her gaze; the stain was surely prominent on the pastel dress. Dragging his eyes lower, he can see the wine dripping on exposed thighs through the slit of dress, bit by bit flowing lower towards her ankle.

He lightly push her back against the railing before going down on his knees. Wordlessly, he lifted her leg and place it on his thigh; he could feel the thin heel of her shoes digging into his skin, but he didn’t care. Y/N didn’t question any of his action, especially when he pull out a handkerchief from the pocket of his suit and gently wipe the excess fluid from her skin.

“Why are you mad, doll? Tell me.” His tone was honeyed as if he was pleading, as his hands keep dapping the wetness away.

There was a few seconds of stillness before Y/N finally confessed, “It was a gift from you.”

Bucky looked up at her, “What is?” As if he didn’t notice the first time he saw it.

She sighed an exhausted breath, “This dress. It was the very first gift you’ve given me.” She sounded genuinely upset. A tiny pout was starting to form on her lips.

Deciding to play dumb, Bucky asked, “Oh, is it?” he grinned a foolish smile.

Y/N wanted to wipe that smug from his face, “I’m being serious, Buck! I—” her words were cut short as she felt Bucky’s lips on her thighs. His gaze dragged slowly from her eyes and downwards to where was planting his invisible marks. Litters of feather-like kisses, as he hands gently grip on the back of thigh and calve.

“Bucky… What are you doing?” her brain was unable to render a full thought, while he lungs seemed to forgot how process air for her to breathe.

He lifted his head up for a second, “You’re just so precious, doll...” He smiled, dipping back and planted another kiss, “…that’s all.” He mumbled against her skin.

His stubble felt too good she almost melted where she stood, “I—I’m still pissed off.” She faked her anger, hoping it will stop him from doing such intimate thing in a public place like this.

Bucky willed himself to stop, as he knew if this kept going, he might go all the way regardless of where they are, “Then, let’s get out of here. What do you think?” He placed her leg down as he stood on his feet.

The offer seemed tempting, Y/N was feeling a little bit hungry and everything in the gala was bite-sized. That’s not food. At least not in her book. Her eyes brighten to the thought of having proper meal, “Can we? But aren’t you like, an important person?” she peeked at the glass door ahead, the silhouettes of people moving around, laughing; seemed like they were enjoying the gala.

“Compared to you? Never.” There was a hint of flirtatiousness in his tone. Playful, yet flirty.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “That’s not what I meant.”

Bucky chuckled as he held out his hand, silently inviting her to an unplanned rendezvous, “Come on, sweets. Anywhere you want to go.”

<< Part I || Part III >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Feel free to share your thoughts 🤍

#winterarmyyfics #plottwistfic #mafia!bucky #mob!bucky #bucky barnes au #mafia!bucky x reader #mob!bucky x reader #arranged marriage #husband!bucky #beefy!bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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phasecornnuts · 25 days

Note

I would love to power bottom Valentino from hazbin hotel ples 😏 also I LOVE angst so maybe a bit of that 😌 head cannons or a fic doesn’t matter I love words

Hello again whores! This is over 16k words…. I think I may have a problem, but I cooked so whatever

Tbh I may open writing commissions bc I love y’all but if I’m writing biblical epics I lowkey would appreciate being paid (college is expensive) 😭

CW: For general angst and Drug use

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hated working nights, but working for Val always meant you worked nights. If someone were to ask you to write a list of everything you disliked about the club, you’d swear the exterminators would be here by the time you were done with it. But alas, it was what it was and there was nothing you could do to change it. That fucking contract made sure of that.

There were a few things that could make your shift bearable though. You liked Angel, even though he didn’t really come by anymore because of that stupid hotel, you liked the free drinks, even though Val made sure they were watered down after you vomited on a customer, and you liked the pills Val would give you, even though they made you feel loopy when you preformed. Those were the shit. Grade A. Top tier. Happiness in a tablet the size of your fingernail.

In your dressing room you watched the clock, five minutes. God, you were already sweating in the shitty outfit Val made you wear for tonight. A frilly maid outfit with black lingerie underneath, the man wanted a strip-tease and he was gonna have it one way or another. With Angel gone, you were the only other person he thought was worth headlining. That felt good to hear, even if you were only second choice. Maybe Angel being gone was a good thing, not for him but for you, maybe Val would see that you’re better than him, that you tried more. Maybe then you could be the star, and not just the understudy. Maybe, maybe, maybe; The word’s rhythm wavered in your head.

Hoping for Val to want you was fruitless though, you knew. Angel was the golden goose- or spider, you supposed - and it would take an act of god for someone to eclipse him. You took your eyes off the clock, knowing getting lost in your thoughts would just lead to a spiral of self-loathing. You closed your eyes and released a heavy sigh. On your table, beside your makeup and phone stood a fluorescent orange bottle. Unscrewing the cap you let loose three in your palm before capping the bottle. You ran the pad of your thumb over the tiny white buttons, smooth and chalky, before placing them in a row on your tongue, all washed down with watery gin. A twisted communion.

You lean back in your chair, wondering when the pills are gonna kick in. About two minutes pass before you hear the door to your dressing room open and a tired waitress with smudgy blue eyeliner and a crooked wig tilts her head towards the hallway to tell you it’s time for you to get on stage. Walking past her, you can smell a heavy peach scented perfume she used to try to cover the smell of sweat. Your heels clacked on the tile floor as you walked up to the entrance of the stage. You scratched your back from the itchy fabric of the costume, then adjusted the tops of your stockings. The song that’s currently playing ends and the performer before you walks to the back, they’re huffing and tired. They stretch and pop their back before looking at you, mouthing “Good luck.” The DJ of the club took a beat before announcing you to the crowd. Rolling your shoulders, you walked on stage feeling the hot spotlights shine on you.

That’s when it hits.

All of the tension you held in your body lifted, and your mind began to swim as you felt the Oxy kick in. Fuck, they really were the best. They made you feel warm and floaty, made the world seem bearable. You swung your hips seductively as you sauntered to the pole, ready to begin your act. Looking around, all the faces of the crowd blended together. It felt like the world was painted in watercolor, all of its harsh edges gone, replaced with washes that drifted out into nothing.

A chemical confidence kicked in then. Those languid movements of yours had everyone entranced, grinding your sex to the pole as you teased eager watchers with a peek up your skirt. Over the music you could hear their hoots and wolf-whistles, then frenzy when you began to shimmy off your top, exposing that black bra you had on under. You throw it out into the crowd, grateful not to have that polyester piece of shit on you anymore. The way they all clamor to catch it made you bite your bottom lip with a smirk. They were all so pathetic.

You spun on the ball of your foot, but the weightlessness of your opioid addled body worked against you, making you fall. Luckily you caught yourself on your hands, pretending it was some sultry move like a lady in a porno. The crawling was good though, you pretended to fuck the stage before you got to the center. You leaned back on your hands, stretching out a heeled foot that they all begged to touch. One almost did, before you snatched it away.

Slipping off that ugly skirt and kicking it off into the drunken crowd felt so good. They were transfixed, enthralled, however you wanted to put it. Your high made everything better, blanketing your body in comfort- That was always the peak. Savoring those small moments that made them scream. Looping and spinning and sliding and going upside down, stretching your legs out spread-eagle. When you felt the room start to spiral you stopped with your back to it for support. With a fake sexiness you slid your hand down your stomach, into those thin painties before taking it out.

God, it felt good to be desired even if it was like this. Sure, Val didn’t want you, but they did. All those sinners and hell-born who clamored to touch you and have you touch them. How they fought over an ugly, scratchy top because you wore it.

Turning your head you saw a wide-eyed patron ignoring a half-drank glass. You smirk and crawl towards them, and their eyes turn to the size of saucers. Reaching the edge of the stage you lean over, hanging over their small table. You opened your mouth wide enough to kiss- But you didn’t. You let your tongue hang out of your mouth, letting a fat drop of spit land in their drink. That was all they could have of you; You smile and go back to the stage to continue your act.

You don’t know how long he’d been standing there when you saw him. Valentino. He nips at his cigarette while he looks at you, not knowing what he’s thinking. Your moves become bigger, looser, hoping to impress him. A glob of phlegm sits at the back of your mouth and you swallow, feeling the tenseness grow inside your body. I can be good too, see! I’m as good as Angel! Even better! Please…please don’t fire me.

He walks closer to the stage as you keep grinding on the pole. Your eyes meet for a second before you look away, unsure. When he reaches the edge of the stage is when you slam yourself to the floor- the crowd hollered. Val adjusts his glasses and takes a long, long drag from his cigarette. Your body cranes towards him, head lowered in reverence while you studied his face. Val was always so hard to read, that’s the thing you hated most about him - well, at least one of them- was he displeased, impressed, disinterested? Fuck if you knew.

With one hand he pinched your face, between his pointer and thumb. He pressed his mouth to yours, filling it with all of that warm smoke. The roof of your mouth hurt so much, but the rest of your body trembled. He’d never been this open, kissing you, watching you dance, it felt so, so good to have his attention. Val pulled away, pink cloud leaving your parted lips.

Valentino leaned in, “Meet me in the back.”

“I still have five minutes left…”

“I’m your boss.” There was a vague sternness to his words, what were five minutes compared to his regard?

You breathed heavily. “Gimme a second.”

Quickly as you could you got off stage. Your head was spinning and you couldn’t tell why- was it the Oxy? The drink? The dancing? The cigarette? All of them combined. The backstage was full of cold air, making goosebumps prickle over your legs. You crossed your forearms and leaned them on the wall. Eyes closed, you counted backwards from 100; 100, 99, 98, 97- Val with his cigarette showed up in your mind, how he pulled your mouth to his, how you shivered, how you liked it. You tried again, but he kept lingering. Another restart, going a bit longer this time, but you gave up somewhere around 56.

Through the backstage hallway you walked to the back, The Velvet Rooms. Those fancy, gilded places hidden away that only those Val liked - or who could afford it- could enter. Valentino hid himself away in the biggest one, a room within the wall closed off with heavy dark blue curtains. The Velvet Rooms were where Overlords and certain Goetia came to be spat on, spanked, and other “peculiar wants” that Val catered to.

Opening the curtains you were struck with the heavy scent of his smoke. You closed them shut, the room illuminated by a faint pink light. Val sat on the couch, legs spread wide and arms slung over the top, his heavy coat thrown to some unknown corner. Seeing him reminded you of how little clothes you had on. Val’s second set of arms beckoned you over, you obeyed. He rested them on your waist, idly feeling the texture of your garter belt.

“Good of you to come carino,” He kissed your stomach, tittering at the way you quivered. “You did so good I had to meet with you privately.”

“How could I deny you Valcito?” You responded in a honeyed tone that made him chuckle.

“Valcito?” He smirked.

“Aren’t you?” You tilt his head up to see your smiling face, dressed with sultry bedroom eyes, “My little Valcito who liked my dancing.”

Val showed off that gold tooth of his; He kissed your stomach again, leaving a little red mark.

You dropped your hands to his arms, sliding up to his biceps. You bit your lip, so hard and toned. For so long you were curious about Val’s body, his sex, his libido. You wondered what he did to Angel to make him so sore and his voice so hoarse. It was embarrassing how many nights you spent thinking about what he tasted like- though now there was no point, you knew now, cigarettes and citrus vodka.

The tips of his fingers traced along your hips, fingering the thin strap of your panties. Your voice grew weak as he nipped again and again at the soft flesh of your stomach. Mind in a daze, words slipped out of your mouth.

“You know, I’m surprised you called me back here…” A kitten-lick across your navel that made you squirm.

“Why’s that Carino? Don’t think you’re pretty enough?” His voice teased.

“I thought you didn’t like women”

“Why would you think that?” He looped his finger around the hip strap again

“Angel.” He snickered.

“Oh Carino, don’t worry. Angel is just the soup D’Jour,” His finger dipped forward along your hip bone, “Men, women; Women, men; all of those sweet things in-between, how could you pick just one?”

“How poignant.” You said with a bit of a flat affect. His waxing-poetic seemed so unimpressive to you. Though, you felt a stab of guilt for thinking so.

“You, Sugar, I just can’t deny,” Val moved his hands up along your torso, stopping just underneath your breasts, “Good tits, nice stomach, pretty face,” his attention went back to your panties, “You coulda been on the cover of Hustler. Hhhnn, maybe I’ll make you the centerfold this month…”

You leaned over him, pressing your face to his. Fuck, his tongue felt so good in your mouth, making your stomach start to knot and squirm. He took your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whine before you pulled away. Placing tiny nips on his neck, you felt the heat in your stomach grow hotter and hotter and turn to slick. You wanted to touch him, feel him, consume him, and be consumed.

Val pulled away for a second, but it felt like forever. He reached into a shallow pocket and produced a button of something. It was a tiny tablet, waxy and fat, and pinched between his two fingers. You wondered what it was, it didn’t look like Oxy. You hoped it was something stronger, desiring the out of body experience you’d been losing since you started to grow tolerant of the opiate.

“You ever play a game of rolling roulette Sugar?” Val asked, you shook your head no.

“You trade the X tongue to tongue, and whoever’s it dissolves on is the lucky winner.” Oh so it was Ecstasy, now that’s good shit.

Val pulled you onto his lap, cupping a breast, “C’mon Baby, let’s go on a trip together…”

That’s all it took.

The tiny pill teetered between both of your tongues as you kissed, growing smaller and smaller and smaller. Val’s spit was thick and sweet and wonderful, something about it making your body go alight with electricity. The X melted so easy, like blue cotton candy; You could feel the serotonin swell in your brain like a party balloon.

When the first roll happened you moaned into Val’s mouth. All of your nerves were standing on edge, shivering with anticipation. He removed your bra, placing a nipple in his mouth as you felt his cock grow harder. It felt so much better than your other highs. The Oxy only ever calmed things, washed them out. The X was so different, so so much better. Everything seemed to shimmer, like the whole world was wrapped in cellophane. How could you think the absence of feeling was so wonderful when this existed?

Your mind was in a twinkly daze when you started to undress him. He kissed and licked at your neck while you felt your way through unbuttoning his top. Fuck, his skin was so smooth and warm; He pressed you closer, teeth bit into your collar bone before dragging his tongue over the marks he left.

You kissed your way down Val’s body. At his chest you lingered, leaving tiny red marks on the trail to his V-line. Valentino’s head lolled back on the couch as you unzipped his cock with all of its dark hair. You put it in your hand, running your thumb over the leaking tip. He swore under his breath as you pumped him slowly, up and down up and down.

The warmth of your tongue dragged along his thick shaft. Your stomach gets a sharp squirm to it, same as your cunt. It’s hard to tell because of the drugs or how sexy Val looks with his legs wide open and his cock needy for your touch. Looking up at him, you’ve never wanted anything more in your life.

His breath hitched when you took him in your mouth. Your tongue twists and swirls around his cock, savoring the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. To try to calm that darling pain between your legs you rubbed your thighs together, but that didn’t help. All it served to do was make your cunt needier. You push his member deeper and deeper into your mouth; You moan into his sex, making him squeeze the palmful of hair he had in his hand tighter.

“You’re so good, Carino.” He says, breathless. You start to suck him faster, blowing and kissing and licking. Val kept sprinkling compliments throughout. It felt so good to be praised by him; All of those sweet things he’d save for everyone else, but never you. You’re so good, you’re so sexy, you take me so well, you’re so pretty, you make me so hard.

“‘M close.” He grabs your hair again, pulling your face in. Feeling devious, you pulled away, savoring the flustered look on his face. Val is huffing, fucked out, and dazed out of his goddamn mind on X.

“You can stand to wait a little longer Valcito~” You nip at the inside of one of his thighs, making his voice hitch into a falsetto. You dragged the tips of your fingers up to his sensitive stomach, mouth leaving a hard bite outline near his ribs. Tracing him was so wonderful, feeling all of those hard edges give into softness. Nursing on his neck, your thumb and forefinger followed his neck muscle and collarbone, dipping into their crevices.

“Valcito~” Your breath was hot against his neck. He mumbled something under his breath and tried to slip his hand into your panties. You caught his wrist and pushed it away, biting hard on his collarbone. You can wait.

Again your mouth found its way south, the want in your cunt becoming more and more painful. You took him in your mouth again, your saliva getting thick and syrupy. Val seized the opportunity and shoved your head down on his cock, chasing the release you denied him. Your teeth grazed his member before pulling away again. Val whined, his eyes pleading. A dark smile grew on your face before you took him again.

He let out a sharp breath and pressed his hands onto your scalp. You went faster, letting the flat of your tongue trace the vein on the underside of his cock. It was fun playing with him like this, having a little control with him for once. Val’s hands tensed in your hair when he warned you he was going to cum.

When he came he wailed, filling your mouth with his salty taste. Looking up at him, you opened your mouth. Val’s thumb traced your bottom lip, admiring his work.

“You look so good like this, Carino.” He huffed.

Pushing yourself from your knees you kissed Val, his seed still in your mouth. That’s all that took to make him go feral. He pulled you to his lap and laid you down, wrapping your legs around him. Without taking his mouth off yours he took his top off, ramming into your needy sex.

Fuck, Val was bigger than you thought he was. His pace was hard and fast, making you scratch your nails into his back. Your kiss tasted like everything good in the world- cum and grapefruit and cigarettes and cotton candy and euphoria. Both of you swallowed, pulling your faces away to catch your breaths. God, you were so wet, Val’s cock slipped in and out of you so easily and it felt so goddamn good. Better than any finger or cock or toy and it made you squeeze him tighter.

You pressed your forehead to his neck, mumbling nonsense. “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” Val spat on his fingers and slipped his hands between the two of you. You didn’t know what he was going to do until you felt his wet fingers graze your clit. He got rougher with it once he found it, making you squeal and cum on him.

That didn’t stop Val though, and god did it feel good. He kept fucking you through your release, making you cum another two times. Your legs felt like jelly, body weak and weightless. The X was releasing its last wave of chemical joy as he fucked you, pleasure rippling inside of you. He came inside you, making you sob into his neck. Val pressed you closer to him, whispering in your ear as you felt your release drip out of your cunt.

“You’re so good baby, so good and pretty.” Pleasepleasepleaseplease, say the magic words.

“I love you, you’re my perfect girl, my pretty baby.” You came again.

His thrusts got sloppier and you could tell he was gonna cum again. “Please, please, please, let me be your favorite, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” You whimpered.

The anticipation of an orgasm built up, shivering and needy. Val grazed your face and kissed you, “Oh you’re my favorite, baby. My little sullen girl~” He held you closer, savoring the way you squirmed when you came together.

When he was done he stayed inside you. Val pressed his head on the couch beneath you. You traced the scratches you left on his back, feeling your high from the X begin to ebb. Your breath felt so heavy and your mind so fuzzy. That all didn’t matter though, Val wanted you now. He’d been inside you, kissed you, felt you, squeezed you, and couldn’t get enough. He wanted you. So what if it was only for the moment, so what if this meant you could disappoint him, so what if you’re only a place-holder until someone better comes. You’re the favorite.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfiction requests #valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #valentino x you #hazbin hotel imagine #the vees

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alice-makes-things · 6 months

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Inspired by a conversation I recently had with friends, here is my “The JellyCat Orca Is Trans Masc and Non-Binary” theory.

(as you read this, bear in mind that I am neurodivergent and at the age of 6 my special interest was orcas)

If you’re not familiar with the JellyCat brand, they’re a British plush toy company that first became popular in the late 90s / early 00s but have recently skyrocketed in sales due to strong TikTok social media presence during the pandemic. They do cute and quirky plushes of everything from cute baby toys to stuffed animals to fruits and veggies to tacos and sushi. They’re all very soft and snuggly and a sensory delight. I’ve never owned one myself, because they’re extremely expensive, but if you enter any gift shop in this country there will be a JellyCat there somewhere.

Anyway, each of these toys are given a name and a little personality - think TY’s Beanie Babies, if you’re old enough to remember those. Anyway, enter Ollivander the Orca, who for the purposes of this post I will use he/they pronouns for:

I met Ollivander in a Blackheath gift shop a few months ago and was delighted by their existence but alas could not afford them. Now, for my theory.

Ollivander strikes me as a very masc-coded name. Like, it’s basically two traditionally male names smashed together (Oliver, Alexander), like somebody couldn’t decide between two names and just said screw it, why not both. The thing is, Ollivander has the ‘wrong’ markings for a male orca - compared to his body size, he has a small, curved dorsal fin, with no saddle markings at the base. Male orcas have tall, straight dorsal fins, with prominent grey saddle markings at the base (unless held prisoner by certain unethical US marine parks). Here’s a picture for comparison:

(for the orca nerds out there, I’m leaving out too many resident / transient orca dorsal fin comparisons here, because I think these are difficult to replicate in a stuffed animal; also Ollivander’s saddle markings are non-existent so there’s not much to compare there)

Compare Ollivander to Hamley’s Kai, or IKEA’s Blåvingad, who both have tall pointy dorsal fins, which indicate they are male:

Anyway, when my neurospicy self excitedly bounded up to the orca plush in the aforementioned gift shop, I was under the assumption Ollivander was a female orca - until I saw their name and description, which I believe is the same as on the JellyCat website:

There are no gendered pronouns in this label (which I love, because children should be able to gender their beloved toys however which way they like). So from then on, my own personal head canon became that Ollivander is a trans masc orca whale who couldn’t decide between the names Oliver and Alexander, and they use he/they pronouns. I love them and can never afford them, lol.

Anyway thank you for indulging my silly neurodivergent rant about orca plushies and their various gender identities.

#orca #Ollivander the orca #jellycat #neurodivergent #gender identity #trans masc #non binary

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hes-a-plant · 6 months

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As someone who doesn’t knit or crochet much with normal-weight yarn (I do a lot of lace crochet with thread), I find it really interesting how there are two prominent and completely different views on what the best yarn type is.

There’s the people who love wool. You gotta love wool. It’s waterproof, it’s wonderful, it’s from a sheep (usually? I think? Is it called something else if it’s from other animals? Alpaca wool is a thing, right?). You can also easily spin and dye wool yourself, making it all the more wonderful and sustainable. Why have plastic yarn if you can make it from sheep hair? Sheep will always have hair to give.

And then, there’s the people who love synthetics. Why not? They make wonderful socks, and they’re decently sturdy. They can even be stretchy, too! With synthetics, you can get so many different vibrant colours, and the yarn can be uncannily uniform. Also, who has the time to hand wash everything nowadays? You can just toss it in the washing machine, if it’s synthetic. Why would you want expensive and potentially scratchy wool?

Alas, this is just what I’ve heard, for I sit in the middle with my piles of mercerized cotton thread.

(A little disclaimer on synthetics: they’re all different. This is not a care guide, please don’t destroy your socks)

#thread #yarn #wool #acrylic #acrylic yarn #nylon yarn #synthetic yarn #fiber art #crochet #knitting #also as far as I can tell #y’all don’t fight each other about it #which is very refreshing

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jigujellee · 2 years

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ATTENTION -> got a secret, can you keep it? [ request: Jennie and Y/N (a backup dancer) relationship is a secret. Jennie found out on one of Y/N's friend that another dancer is having a crush on Y/N. Jennie got jealous and it's up to you what will happen next. Hoping for a fluff ending ]

jennie x reader fluff w very, very minor angst (dw tho) word count: 2.8k warnings: none

a/n: thank you for this request! it was really fun to work on :D i'm not gonna lie tho, i kind of struggled with the ending a bit bc i really just wanted to get it done ljdkhfaf but alas, here she is! this is slightly proofread, so pls don't mind any mistakes but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3

you’ve always admired private, lowkey relationships.

as you scroll through pinterest and instagram, you often come across photos of couples who don’t show their faces but they make it very clear that they’re together. the notion of being private but not a secret was something you’ve always wished to try with someone.

and for 4 years, you somehow managed to keep a private and secret relationship from the entire world.

when you first started as a backup dancer for yg’s best selling, record breaking, and globally known girl group otherwise known as blackpink, you knew that a relationship with the any of the members would and should not go any further than a work-friendly relationship. but that idea was thrown right out the window when the jennie kim, blackpink’s main rapper and lead vocalist, had made her move on you the moment you stepped into the dance studio for the first time. she was starstruck by the way your body easily flowed to the music, hitting every beat with such precision and power. what started out as just being coworkers evolved into a lovely friendship, and eventually into a relationship that you never knew was even possible in the first place.

but you were also aware that dating an idol had its drawbacks.

though you weren’t too big on pda, it would’ve still been nice to go up to jennie and give her a hug or a kiss on the cheek during work hours, especially when you knew she was exhausted after practicing non-stop. however, you were aware that your position as their backup dancer and the fact that you’re a girl dating a girl (wow shocker) would cause an uproar amongst the public. knowing this, you restrained yourself and maintained a strictly professional relationship between you and the girls. outside of the yg building, you and jennie are inseparable but once you step foot inside, all interactions with her cease unless there’s something to discuss about work. it’s been nearly 2 years since their last comeback, so you’ve been able to have jennie all to yourself; you’ve travelled together and attended her other schedules with her without causing too much suspicion. but now that the comeback has been confirmed and announced, it was time to return to work and act like jennie was nothing more than your senior.

you weren’t gonna deny that it felt good to be back in the studio again. you’ve always had a passion for dancing and you were glad that you could pursue something you actually enjoyed. not only did it pay well and provided good benefits, but it allowed you to meet the love of your life despite having to keep it a secret from the world.

when you walk into the studio, your eyes are met with mirrors that stretch across all the walls, speakers sitting in the corners beside a computer and sound control system - it all felt so comfortable to you. but when four familiar faces come in just minutes after you do, then that’s when everything really starts to feel like home. you bite back a smile when you make eye contact with your girlfriend, who does the same thing towards you. she always managed to make the simplest outfits look expensive. you couldn’t help but stare at how her white tank top accentuates her abs, and how she managed to make a pair of black jeans look designer. while you did your stretches, your gaze constantly shifts to her every once in a while but your view is soon obstructed when your friend and coworker, dany, shows up in front of you.

“hi y/n! it’s so good to see you again. i haven’t heard from you as much, how are you?”

“hi dany, i’ve been good. i decided to take a bit of a break from social media, just really take the time to wind down and relax” you say as you bend over and stretch to reach your legs. dany just laughs and gently rests her hand on your back.

“you didn’t miss me at all?” dany jokes, or so you thought. but you responded in a jokingly matter anyway.

“not at all, i was actually glad to be away from you” you smile.

“hey, you’re so mean!” she starts playfully hitting you, and you laugh as you try to get away from her until you’re interrupted by the sound of the choreographer clapping their hands together, indicating that it was time to start practicing.

“time to get started everyone!”

“okay, let’s take 10 then we’ll run it from the top”

it’s been a month since you’ve started rehearsing for the girls’ comeback, and you had to admit that you don’t have as much stamina as you used to. when the music stops and the choreographer calls for a 10 minute break, you attempt to catch your breath while desperately trying to find your water bottle from your bag, but it’s nowhere to be found. jennie notices you rummaging through your bag and grabs her own bottle to give to you, but to unfortunately, dany beats her to it.

“you should really bring your own water, y/n. you always finish mine”

“i never ask for yours just in case there’s any poison, but thanks” you joke. dany fake scoffs and acts offended but she’s glad nonetheless. after nearly inhaling all of the water, you felt a drop run down your mouth and you lift your shirt to wipe it off, along with the sweat that was drenching your face. instead of pulling up the collar of your shirt like a normal person would, you grab the hem and lift it up to expose your toned abdomen. dany’s eyes immediately gloss over your lower body and jennie doesn’t miss the way her eyes widen and sparkle at the sight.

“damn y/n, have you been working out these last 2 years? you look so good,” dany compliments. she manages to swiftly slide her hand over your abdomen, causing you to flinch and immediately back away.

“hey, watch it! i’m ticklish there,” you defend. despite your protests, dany chases you around the studio to try and tickle you. you fail to notice a pair of cat eyes that were burning onto you and dany as the two of you ran around like children.

jennie’s chest becomes a bit heavier and she subconsciously tightens her grip on the bottle that was still in her hand. she’s noticed how awfully close dany was sticking to you during practices, and it was becoming hard to watch. she bites the inside of her cheek, almost hard enough to bleed until another backup dancer approaches her.

“jeez, what a bunch of children. imagine being in your late 20s and you still try to get your crush’s attention by chasing them around and trying to tickle them” the dancer says, clicking their tongue and shaking their head almost disapprovingly. but nothing they said registered in jennie’s head until the word “crush” was mentioned.

“crush? what do you mean?”

“oh didn’t you know? dany has liked y/n for some time now. me personally, i think they’d make a pretty cute couple. a very loud couple but still cute, don’t you think?”

jennie’s eyes nearly roll at the thought of you and dany being together. “i don’t think dany is y/n’s type in my opinion”

“well, dany says that y/n is definitely her type so i’m sure she’d find a way to make it work”

the cat eyed girl clenches her jaw. what the hell was she even supposed to say to that? it’s not like she could explicitly defend your relationship since no one knew you were together. but wow, did it bug her to her core. is this what other people were thinking? did other people think that you and dany would be a great couple?

dany still tried to cling onto you and you desperately tried to get away from her, while jennie didn’t want to bother looking in your direction for the remainder of practice. the members, however, immediately noticed the change in jennie’s mood. when another 10 minute break was called, they decided to intervene.

“hey grumpy, what’s with the face? you look like you’re about to murder someone,” rosé says to her bandmate, who’s been trying to tie her shoes for the last 3 minutes or so.

“it’s nothing, i just really wanna finish and go home so i could sleep. i’m getting really tired already” jennie brushes it off. the other three girls all eye each other, knowing she wasn’t telling the truth but they silently agreed to not pry any further and just give her supportive pats and rubs on her back.

while waiting for the choreographer to get back, another backup dancer takes over the sound system and puts on attention by newjeans just to fool around and freestyle a little bit. the studio is suddenly filled with cheers and screams as a number of dancers made their way to the middle of the dance floor. when the chorus comes on, jennie rushes to the center without even thinking and starts dancing. the girls scream loudly as they cheer on their friend, who was literally sulking not even a few minutes ago.

“okaaay, get it jennie!” lisa shouts out. jisoo and rosé pull out their phones to record her and you do the same for you to watch later and laugh about it with jennie. you watched your girlfriend through your phone screen as she danced with so much energy, and when you look up from your phone, her eyes are already on you. jennie’s gaze doesn’t falter from yours as she continued to move to the music, lip syncing along to the lyrics.

one thing’s for sure

i know you’re the one

you got me looking for attention

the smile on your face doesn’t leave until dany makes her way to the centre and takes the spotlight away from jennie. you watched jennie stop dancing and noticed how annoyed she looked.

“watch me y/n!” dany screams over the music as she starts to dance, which caused jennie to slowly back away towards the girls. you put your phone down and just smile as you watched dany dance, who eventually starts making her way towards you and even had the audacity to press her back against you but you push her away while laughing nervously. in the background, jennie watches the whole thing unfold and if she was annoyed before, well now she was fuming. she hates it when other people try to make their move on you or when they're just too close to you for her liking, but what pisses her off the most is knowing that she can’t rightfully claim what’s hers.

practice continued for practically the whole day until late into the night. once it was finally over, the two of you met at jennie’s house and you noticed she was being very quiet for your liking.

“jen, you alright? you haven’t sa-”

“what do you think about dany? be honest with me”

“babe, you don’t need to worry about dany. she’s just really clingy, that’s all”

“you’re not answering my question. is there something you’re not telling me?”

“no no no no, it’s not like that. what do i think about her? well, she’s cool, very talkative for the most part but i think she’s a great dancer and i have a lot to learn from her”

“do you think she likes you?”

“where did you even get that idea, love?”

“people think you two would make a good couple, so it was just a thought i guess”

“that’s only what people think, but it’s not the truth”

“you don’t know that”

“okay, fine, i don’t know that. but what i do know is that even if dany does like me, it doesn’t mean anything,” you say before making your way towards a pouty jennie and wrapping your arms around her slender waist.

“i’ve known you for 6 years and i’ve been with you for 4. i had to watch sleazy photographers, fansites, and sasaengs ogle you up and down whenever you’re up on a stage and i always just want to go up there and claim you as mine. i know it’s hard to keep hiding in the dark babe, but i can guarantee you that i wouldn’t want someone else in your place”

jennie looks up at you with a pout still evident on her face, her eyes somewhat filled with tears but not enough to start falling.

“but wouldn’t things be easier if you were with dany?”

“i don’t need things to be easy, i need it to be you. it always needs to be you”

jennie pulls you for a long and warm embrace, and the two of you stay like that as you gently sway back and forth. jennie’s ear is on your chest and she listens to your heart beating so gently, and a smile slowly creeps onto her face knowing that your heart only beats for her. you both knew it would be difficult once you decided to be together, but with jennie, everything was definitely worth it and you'd do absolutely anything to keep the woman in your arms all to yourself.

you’re back in the studio the following morning, and you can tell jennie is in somewhat of a better mood compared to yesterday, but it changes yet again once dany walks through the door.

“good morning y/n baby!”

“ew, don’t call me that”

“awww, does my baby not like the name?”

you fake gagged and try to laugh it off as you change into a more comfortable pair of shoes for practice. dany rolls her eyes and sits down beside you, resting her head on your shoulder.

“you smell really good y/n”

“i know i do” you dryly reply as you try to tie your shoe. when you finish tying the last knot, you bring your head up and dany takes this chance to try and plant a kiss on your cheek but you push her away immediately.

“dany, what are you doing? we’re at work”

“oh come on y/n, one kiss shouldn’t hurt right?”

jennie gets up from where she’s sitting and makes her way towards you two. the studio suddenly goes quiet as they watch her march from one side to the other, silently wondering what jennie was gonna say next.

“hey dany, how about you learn to respect people’s personal space?and while you're at it, try not to go for people who are happily in a relationship” jennie snides.

“huh? what are you talking about? y/n isn’t in a relationship”

“yes she is”

dany gets bold and challenges jennie, crossing her arms and making her way towards the cat eyed girl but jennie doesn't back down.

“oh yeah? with who?”

“with me,” jennie says sternly as she pushes pass dany and grabs you by the collar to plant a kiss on your lips for everyone to see. when she pulls away, you look at her in shock and you whisper, “jen, what are you doing? we’re gonna get in trouble!”

you back up slightly, waiting for your girlfriend to explain her irrational behaviour but before she could speak, the girls' manager shouts out in joy which gave both you and jennie a confused look on your face.

“ha! i told you! you all owe me $50!,” he shouts as the rest of the staff groan and start fishing money out of their wallets.

“wait, you guys made a bet? on what?”

“on who would be the first one to expose your relationship. everyone thought it’d be you but i had a strong feeling it would be jennie, and i was right!” he exclaims in glee.

“so wait, we’re not in trouble?”

“well you two have been doing a fantastic job at keeping it a secret from the public, so we agreed to let it continue and we’d only intervene if things got out of hand”

“but how did all of you find out in the first place if we never said anything?” jennie asked. the manager and a few staff members pointed at lisa, who puts her hands up in defense.

“okay hey wait a minute, before all of you start pointing fingers i just wanna say for the record, jennie’s not exactly the quietest person when she’s on the phone with y/n”

jennie playfully glares at lisa, but you just stood there smiling. you thought you were being discrete about your relationship with jennie in fear of getting in trouble with the company, but as it turns out, people already knew and supported you in secret. you turn to your girlfriend who was ready to beat lisa up for exposing her, and you can't help but plant a soft kiss on her cheek because you didn’t have to completely hide your relationship anymore. the studio is filled with oohs and awws from everyone around you, causing jennie's cheeks to show a slight tint of pink.

“alright alright, enough chit chat! let’s get back to work everyone, we have a lot of preparations” the manager finally says after receiving his winnings from the bet.

before practice officially began, jennie pulls you in for a kiss once again.

“keep up the good work my favourite dancer”

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #gg imagines #gg scenarios #blackpink #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #blackpink fluff #jennie kim #jennie x reader #jennie scenarios #jennie imagines #jennie fluff #f reader #jigujellee

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anna-the-undertaker · 11 months

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MC at the end of their rope with the boys, laying in the middle of the floor playing a banjolele -

I've no more fucks to give by Thomas Benjamin Wild Esq.

"I’ve tried, tried, tried

And I’ve tried even more

I’ve Cried, Cried, Cried

And I can’t recall what for

I’ve pressed, I’ve pushed,

I’ve yelled, I’ve begged

In hope of some success

But the inevitable fact is that

It never will impress!"

The first person to find them is Belphie in search of a place to nap, who immediately sent a video of them layed out on the floor singing to the group chat.

"I’ve no more fucks to give,

My fucks have runneth dry,

I’ve tried to go fuck shopping

But there’s no fucks left to buy

I’ve no more fucks to give,

Though more fucks I’ve tried to get,

I’m over my fuck budget and

I’m now in fucking debt!"

It isn't long before the others have rushed to watch from the doorway, and MC doesn't notice cause they are so focused on the song.

"I strive, strive, strive

To get everything done

I’ve played by all the rules

But I’ve very rarely won,

I’ve smiled, I’ve charmed, I’ve wooed, I’ve laughed,

Alas to no avail

I’ve run round like a moron,

To unequivocally fail!"

As expected, they have their phones out recording or streaming it live for everyone else to see.

"I've no more fucks to give

My fuck fuse has just blown,

I’ve been hunting for my fucks all day,

But they’ve upped and fucked off home,

I’ve no more fucks to give,

My fuck rations are depleted,

I’ve rallied my fuck army but It’s been fucking defeated!"

Satan and Belphie have set this as their ringtone at this point.

Asmo has thousands of viewers for the live stream.

"The effort has just not been worth

The time or the expense

I’ve exhausted all my energy

For minimal recompense

The distinct lack of acknowledgement

Has now begun to gall

And I’ve come to realize

that I don’t give a fuck at all!"

Mammon and Levi are already making memes.

Beel is just munching on his snacks enjoying the show.

"I’ve no more fucks to give,

My fucks have flown away,

My fucks are now so fucked off

They’ve refused to fucking stay!

I’ve no more fucks to give,

My fucks have gone insane

They’ve come back round and passed me

While they’re fucking off again!"

Lucifer is the last of the Brothers to hear it because he is with Diavolo, who, of course, is watching it from his D.D.D. with absolute delight

Barbatos has to hide his smile

"I’ve no more fucks to give,

My fucks have all dissolved,

I’ve planned many projects

But my fucks won’t be involved!

I’ve no more fucks to give,

My fucks have all been spent,

They’ve fucked off from the building

And I don’t know where they went!"

The angels catch wind of it too, but Luke has been prohibited from listening.

Solomon, of course, knows the song and sings along, thoroughly enjoying it.

"I’ve no more fucks to give,

I’ve no more fucks to give,

I’ve no more fucks,

I’ve no more fucks to give!"

MC is now even more famous 😂

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me mc #obey me imagines #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke

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kallikrein · 1 year

Text

[ 21:23 ] — this is a fem!reader timestamp.

The first time Wakasa had seen you on all fours, it was a matter-of-fact undreamed of.

Your hair was loose and unruly, far from the modest look you were aiming for. Leaves and soil covered your skin, and your knees were hurting and nearly bruising. Your eyes were close to tears yet you refused to let a single one fall on your cheeks.

“No,” you sniffled, hands reaching forward and desperately grasping at anything around you. “Please, please…”

You felt dirty. Improper. You lost all the decorum you humbly claimed you had. Even what’s left of your dignity was nowhere to be found.

Snap.

You slowly turned around, and if your eyes weren’t bleary with tears, you’d probably recognize the newcomer’s face.

“Hello..?” You said, timid.

Silence.

You got up from your position, slowly. Careful you might offend them from suddenly moving. Nope, still silent. You gulped.

Time passed by between you two, and you suddenly felt as if you’re a novel microorganism under a microscope. Their gaze felt heavy on your skin, as if they’re scrutinizing you. And that fueled the humiliation to jumpstart and roar loudly in your veins.

You moved to run — to escape to where you thought the exit from this school clearing was, but alas, you ended up tripping on your numbing left foot. “Owwie!” You hollered in pain.

And then there you were, back once more to your former position. Landing inelegantly on your hands and knees. Only this time, you’re facing this person upfront.

“Very graceful,” he murmured. A hint of amusement in his words, and you lowly hung your head out of embarrassment. Was that really necessary? You thought. “Are you hurt?” He asked.

You couldn’t help it this time. You’ve been meaning to stay capable for the last half hour of being powerless, and probably would have been for another hour if this person didn’t find you, and yet you’ve had enough of it.

You abruptly dissolved into tears.

“I- I lost my glasses,” you cried, leaning back now to sit on the balls of your feet as you hid your face in your dirt-covered hands. “And I can’t find them… I’ve crawled and searched and crawled everywhere, and I still can’t find them…”

To say Wakasa wasn’t humored by this all was an understatement. How unusual was it to see a lone girl crying and it wasn’t his doing? Still, it was unfair of him to laugh at someone’s expense. More so, at a girl’s expense.

At that moment, you uncovered your face to wipe off the snot from your nose — in an unladylike manner at that — did Wakasa fully realize how distressed and helpless you had looked.

A smudge of dirt was apparent on your cheek, and your hair was loose and unruly. As if you’ve been pulling at it out of frustration. Your knees had open wounds on them, and Wakasa had to hold himself back from tending to it.

He’s seen far worse injuries. On him and on his friends. But to see one decorating a girl was one thing he couldn’t take well. His once grinning mouth formed a thin line.

Your eyelashes were wet, and your eyes themselves were glassy from trying to hold back any more tears. Although, a few had already cascaded and now mixed with grime.

It was, truth be damned, a cute look on you, and Wakasa oddly reveled in the fact that he’s there to save you.

He looked away, quickly. Not wanting to stare too much at your suddenly growing appeal on him. When he did, he then noticed your pair of glasses haphazardly sitting a few meters away.

He walked towards it, as sluggishly as he could, buying this alone time more with you. Your eyes squinting in the corners as you followed him with your blurry gaze. “What… Imaushi-san?”

“I found it,” he murmured, picking up the flimsy spectacles. “Your glasses, I mean.”

“Oh! Oh! Thank you!” You beamed at him, clasping your hands together in utmost gratitude. A smile like that, free and unpretentious looks good on you, Wakasa’s brain chimed in again.

Or maybe it’s because you weren’t wearing the obstructive thing that was in his hands?

He realized then that you were more beautiful than what you make yourself out to be. Not hiding. Just honest and pure.

He walked back towards you and kneeled down. “Say, what do I get for helping you?”

Now, you were back again on being all fours. You groaned and stuck your hand out. He really thought it’s funny to sneak and hide under the bed. “Give it back, mister,” you grunted.

He grumbled. “No!”

“Hmm,” Wakasa called out, magically appearing from behind you, “this somehow brings me back.”

Turning around, still on your hands and knees, you threw blurry glares at your devilishly grinning husband.

“This definitely brings me back,” he lowly chuckled. Stroking your sides as he made his way to you, and smirking even more when you yelped. Then, he crouched down right beside you, and said in that deep, honeyed voice of his, “Come on, boy. Give back your mom’s glasses.”

lmaooo this was kinda fun to write! not sure tho if i wrote it the way i imagined it… but, but wakasa with a megane?! COUNT ME IN. also, excuse any errors as per usual!

taglist. @mochi-coffee, @baji-san and @gwynsapphire.

#[ ⌨️ ] — writings #東京リベンジャーズ #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers imagine #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imaushi wakasa #imaushi wakasa fluff #imaushi wakasa x reader

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sizzleissues · 8 months

Text

We finish each other’s (2015 words)

Speak my language AU ala @nervousbelieverstarfish again

(warnings for tired possible spelling errors that mysteriously crop up only after I post it)

AO3 or below

Marinette waited at the step of the school, her face splitting into a smile as he walked towards her.

“Did you check out the trailer I sent you?” She asked from the outset, hardly waiting until he was a metre before her to continue their text conversation as though it had never ended.

“I did. I can’t believe they’re already making another Majestia movie. It's been like a year since the last one came out.”

“Six months actually.”

“No way. It can’t be any good if it’s only been six months.”

“So are you going to watch it?”

“Duh. Do you want to get tickets?”

They climbed the steps into school and navigated the halls, keeping up their private conversation in Mandarin. It used to garner them some weird looks but by now their peers had learned to back off. They’d reserved mornings for improving his speed in Mandarin and afternoons for working on Marinette’s French. Through this little system, both made progress at record speed. They split apart to go to their lockers, joining back up outside their classroom.

“They’re probably going to make a movie about Ladybug and Chat Noir,” Adrien said.

“That would be strange.” It came out more like a thought.

“Why?”

“Err- Because they’re like our protectors and stuff. They aren’t movie characters.”

Adrien pressed his thumb to his ring on his hand. Definitely not a movie character.

“Who would even play them?” Marinette continued.

“Well I’d be Chat Noir and you’d be Ladybug.”

“Me? Ladybug? What makes you think that??”

“No reason. I think you just suit the role.”

Marinette stayed silent, the panic slipping from her features like it had never been there. Instead she smirked.

“I think I’d be better as Chat Noir, you look better in red polka dots.”

They moved in the classroom, the conversation shifting.

“There was this girl at my locker.” Marinette said, sitting into her seat beside him. It wasn’t in every class they sat beside each other but they usually tried to be as close as possible. “She kept whispering something. I don’t know what.”

“That’s weird. Was she being mean?”

“I don’t think so. Her face was kind. I think she was probably on her phone.”

“Still, tell me if anyone ever bothers you.”

“You already did enough with Chloé-.”

There was a slam at the top of the classroom, interrupting her. He whipped his head around — yelping as he did— his face aghast until he saw it was just Ms Mendeleev getting the class's attention. Adrien sank low in his seat, his cheeks pricking with heat as Marinette giggled at his expense. It was like the sound of something bigger echoed through the book dropping. A door and a scowl blending into a mundane act.

“Are you okay?” She asked with a smile still bunching her cheeks. He tried to join in on her laughter but it was hollow and she knew it immediately. Their proximity over the last few months had her learning all his tells, searching for them in the creases where the facade cracked. Her smile faded and her hand met his under the table.

There wasn’t any meaning behind it, she hadn’t thought it through enough to think about it. That touch would chase him into the darker patches of the night when two faces kept blending together, red fading to pink and then intermingling until he was left utterly confused. She clutched a little tighter and leaned a little closer.

“No. But not now,” he whispered.

She let go, understanding, and turned to the lesson with interest.

When she slid her sketchbook his way that lunch, he knew — just like she’d known — what she meant. He paged through it, careful not to damage any of the drawings. They were beautiful. It was unlike anything his father had ever created and made Adrien wonder how he could even dare to call his trite ‘fashion’. He noticed a particular fascination with the man of midnight cropping up in her later work, replacing the golden boy that populated the early pages. He could have easily been dark, an inkly blotch of contempt (his first appearances were exactly that) but instead she designed him playful and curious in long cloaks and pointed boots, dancing across the page. In a neat script she penned Chat Noir under the final drawing.

Her eyes pressed intently on his as he finished. Do you like it?

“I love it.” He meant so much more.

Her face broke into a visage of the sun, accepting back her sketchbook and with less gentle hands shoved it back into her bag.

“I was worried you wouldn’t. It’s different from my usual.”

“How could I not?”

“I don’t know. I guess since your father is the Gabriel Agreste, you’d have an eye for what’s good and bad.”

“I do have an eye for it and I’m telling you your work is amazing and this series takes it to a whole other level.”

Marinette bowed her head and went about eating her lunch. Their quiet little corner remained theirs.

Adrien made it through half of Marinette’s tutoring before an akuma interrupted it. He felt lame making an excuse to leave her but he would do a better job protecting her as Chat Noir then as Adrien.

He found somewhere to hide and ignored Plagg’s exhausted mumblings as they faced their fourth akuma of the week. It was Wednesday.

Adrien wasn’t sure his life could be peaceful anymore. That was the responsibility of the ring on his finger. It tied him to something greater, what his existence must have been molded for. Being Chat Noir was like finally stretching out his limbs after a long time being boxed in a car ride fifteen years long. It had been so long he’d forgotten his arms could reach the moon if he stretched them and his legs could carry him across oceans if he dared to step. Chat Noir did those things and more.

It wasn’t easy, that said, nothing was. But Ladybug made it look so. They were partners, completely in tune. If he believed she would be at his side, nothing could go wrong.

They landed simultaneously at the scene, staring up at the akuma floating in the air.

“Let’s make this one quick,” she said.

“Stronger?”

“Together.”

He rubbed the ring with his thumb, spinning it around as he feigned interest in the lesson droning on around him. In the desk below his, Marinette fretted with her notes, switching between French and Mandarin seemingly at random. She’d sat in the seat below him today, even though the one next to him was free. He tried not to think about that. His eyes fell on her hand as she scribbled, mesmerized as she produced a design doodle in the middle of her writing. Little drawings like it peppered the page, her seeing no problem in quickly sketching a design idea when it came to her. Even when it interrupted history notes.

She’d improved her French, picking it up quicker than he’d expected. Listening to it as a kid from her father had more of an effect then she’d thought and her listening skills could keep up with most teachers if she stayed focused. He wished he could say it was his excellent tutoring but the truth was Marinette was extraordinary. Nothing could stop her.

“That’s it for today. I don’t want to bore you with my voice. Pack up and leave when the bell goes,” the teacher said. He laughed like he hadn’t bored them already. (Though the class was bored because they hated history and Adrien was bored because he’d already covered this during his time away.)

“Marientte? We're finished,” he whispered down. Marinette twisted around, smiling gratefully.

“Oh, okay. I just need to finish this.”” She jotted down a few final characters and packed up.

To her left, another girl leaned in, her trepidation visible. Adrien knew her as the girl Nino was hanging with now, Alya, that was her name. Alya slowly with a unsure voice whispered something.

“Pardon?” Marinette said. Alya paused, drawing in her lips before she spoke again, loud enough for Adrien to eavesdrop.

“How-are-you?” Alya asked in broken Mandarin.

From this angle it was tricky to see but Adrien watched as Marinette’s face transformed from cautious to grinning.

“I’m good! You’re Alya, right?”

Alya nodded, speaking in French next. “I am. And you’re Marinette. But let me introduce myself again because I spent so long learning how. Hi, I’m Alya Cersaire, your friendly locker neighbour!”

“You learned Mandarin to speak to me?” Marinette asked in French, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

“A little bit. I took a class back home but I’m still very bad. You probably noticed my attempt yesterday.” She gestured with her hand to the aforementioned ‘yesterday’, cringing at it.

“Don’t worry about it, you sounded good now. Where is home?”

“America. I moved here nine months ago.”

“That’s nearly as far as China. Did you have to learn French?”

“I did. That’s why I wanted to talk to you, I thought we could relate.”

The bell rang, interrupting their conversation. Good. Marinette grabbed her bag and waited at the step for Adrien to join her. He moved to her side before she could change her mind and leave with Alya. They walked side by side to the next class like always, except this time Marinette stopped to say goodbye to Alya. Adrien gave a small smile and tried to brush off the ugly folding in his stomach as Marinette filled his stoney silence with random thoughts.

“Are you okay?” She asked, interrupting herself.

Adrien swallowed something thick in his throat. He’d known Marinette improving at her French meant she’d start to branch out. That was what he’d promised he’d help her do on that first day four months ago. It was wrong to hold her back now, just because of his silly feelings. She wouldn’t need him anymore soon and he could get back to his solitude.

“Yes-.”

The school shaking interrupted him.

He brought his ringed hand forward, using his other to hold back Marinette as they listened to where the shaking came from.

“Should we-?” Marinette asked.

“Yeah, you should hide.” He turned to her, praying she’d listen and run away so he could transform. Her jaw was set when she nodded, dashing down the corridor in the opposite direction to the noise. He watched until he was sure she had hid safely and then found somewhere secrete to call on Plagg.

Moments later he landed beside Ladybug on a rooftop not too far from the school. He glanced back at it, to confirm it hadn’t been destroyed since he’d last checked and once he was sure it hadn’t disappeared he found where Ladybug was looking. Her gaze was already locked on the akuma in the distance, a plan forming between her brows. He opened his mouth to ask what weighed between them but Ladybug beat him to it.

“You’re upset.”

“Huh?”

“You’re quiet. You’re never quiet. So you must be upset. Why?”

Adrien frowned slightly before painting a smile onto his face. “I’m alright. Is that what you were thinking about?”

She must see the underpaint of his facade because she nodded and then pointed at the akuma. “Stronger together, remember? If one team member is down things won’t work.”

“I know and I’m fine.”

“I’ll believe you because the akuma has just climbed on top of the Eiffel Tower with a hostage but we’re talking about this after.” Her voice was kind in the stern way Ladybug’s voice often was. It took on that leadership quality she denied was there because it suggested Adrien wasn’t equal to her. They were partners, not leader and follower. Their powers worked in tandem, their bodies designed to start where the other finished. According to observers, sometimes with all the action it was easy to believe it was one hero, not two, that saved them.

She casted her yo-yo out, zipping away. Adrien followed.

HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!! Hope you got it and I successfully conveyed the narrative themes of this and the further exploration of Adrien’s silly little psyche. Let me know.

(I will explain if its not clear)

This is missing a Ladynoir one shot that’s supposed to come before it but I wrote this first and tumblr voted for me to post it so I do as the people say. So just superimpose a relationship like the movie’s Ladynoir onto this

Also im very much avoiding addressing akuma’s because I don’t know whether I can them to be like the show’s or the movie’s, I don’t understand the movie’s but I have been so far sticking to its canon.

This is also probably the latest chronologically thing you’ll get and everything else will be dumb silly adrienette time with some silly dumb Ladynoir time as well.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #adrien agreste #ml fanfic #ml fic #ml movie #speak my language

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ladythornofrivia · 1 year

Text

Endless Reds and Blues

Here's the link for the synopsis and the chapter list) Pair: Kakucho x Reader

(Warning: Inappropriate jokes and dialogue (if you're under 18, I'm sorry but you can't read this)

Author’s Note: This is my first post on writing a fanfic. I’m still not confident on writing here because of plagiarism or that it might be not good enough, but I’m still trying my best to write. Enjoy this chapter. (Note: Report if someone decides to steal the synopsis and my story. And notify me. Thank you) ❤️

Prologue: Meeting the Girls

Next Chapter

It is natural for men to be in a finery and elegance to withhold power bestowed upon girls. Girl after girl after girl, young men never fails to find way to collect their gazes and hearts at every turn, at every chance they get, whether at parties, malls, or even school. Hearing ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ never cease to stroke their ego, their established pride grew stronger, and their beauty hadn’t received a slight streak of conflict.

In their world, there’s no such thing as seriousness. ToTenjiku, school is all but a playground. A playground to which where they received undying admirations and compliant from their female classmates—privileges is all they’ve gained. No troubles come to them.

*~~*~~*

“That last girl we saw is cute,” Ran said, violet eyes twinkled with delight under his hooded lids, strutting down the halls, where girls have the full view on the open doors and class windows, unlocking them for a stable glimpse of their lithe figures, muttering with a tone of sharpness despite their inside voices activated. “Big tits hiding under a uniform, too.”

Bonten had the advantage of captivating their hearts over a millisecond, also been favored and vouched—won by the hearts of their classmates and strangers alike. More so, they’ve captured the hearts of the principal and assistant principal. This is Tenjiku's way of getting out from trouble.

“That last girl you talked to has a severe case of anger issues,” Rindou said.

“How can you tell?” Ran waved his hand at the girls bypassing them.

“Because she caught her boyfriend cheating on her—threw a glass at him and the other girl. Guess you didn’t see her hands, they were filled with deep scratches.”

“She told me it’s from gardening.” With Ran’s lips, he formed it into a childish pout, his sharp, angular cheeks drawn forward with a round bump.

“It wasn’t gardening. Who the hell has time to take care of plants? Only old people do that crap when they’re bored.”

Ran hissed in disbelief. “Ah, that’s too bad. Maybe I could bring out the best of her bad side in the bed.”

“Good luck with that. She also has an unbreakable attachment during the relationship.”

Behind the Haitani brothers, Sanzu, on the other hand, is uninterested with their conversation. He wished that a piece of pill would swallow his sobering consciousness up and be as careless as he always has been, never minding what others think of him. Alas, he has no pill to fill his void at the moment.

“I can be that kind of man,” Ran answered, his lips drawn into a smirk.

“Bullshit.”

“I swear, I can do better than Casanova.”

Rindou’s eyes squinted. “You don’t take these things seriously except sleeping in your bed on days end. You overslept for more than eight hours. If anything, you’re more romantic on committing to your bed than with a bunch of girls.”

“That was ONE time,” Ran reasoned. “Although I love my bed.”

“You never let anyone go near your bed. You often pushed the girls away whenever they go to your bedroom when we invited them at the party.”

“It’s expensive!”

“You made them sleep on the couch after sex.”

“It’s a ¥300,000 bed!”

“You never give them blankets and pillows. And you made me them leave during midnight.”

“I love my blankets and pillows, too!” Ran’s eyes glazed, wounded by his younger brother’s words.

With his right hand, Rindou placed it onto his forehead, tightened with annoyance. “Whatever. I’m really starting to think who’s the mature one out of the group.”

Within seconds, his wounded expression changed when Ran winked at the girl with pigtails; she squealed with her hands clapped at once and pressed it hard against her chest with a blush caressed her sullen cheeks.

Rindou scoffed, rolling his violet eyes, the same eye colors like his older brother’s. “Don’t bother. That girl is a stalker.”

“Since when do you know shit about personal information from girls?”

“Since day one,” Kokonoi, with a shining and silken hair slipped past onto his shoulders, his thumbs typing onto the phone screen.

“I thought you’re invested with money,” Ran answered, baffled. The girls’s voices grew louder inch by inch.

“I am.” Kokonoi swept his silver locks aside. “But I do my personal time on investigating people at this school on my end.”

“Where are we heading again?”

“At the cafeteria. They’re selling boss’s dorayaki.”

“We got to hurry. Boss will be angry if we didn’t get what he wanted,” Kokonoi added.

“He’s always sleeping,” Ran commented.

“That’s Mikey’s job. You know that Mikey hates classes, but loves sleeping during class. He recollects his energy,” Kokonoi replied.

Ran guffawed. “Good thing the teachers didn’t give a shit about it.”

Girls swarmed around them, trying to reach and touch their clean and customized uniforms with their palms. Unfortunately, their daydreams on reaching close to them when the girls pushed others, going onward to Bonten with ultra confidence embodied on their walks and wide smiles from ear to ear.

Heels clicked as the group of three girls make their way to Tenjiku, who were parting a sea of crowd to get their boss’s special request for lunch. Three girls shoved the spectators aside with a slight sounds of complaints coming from other admirers. Tenjiku managed to grab every single lunch they could get. Trouble from being late—stalling from girl to girl, flirting and showering them with compliments. Boys had it rough on the sideline, watching Tenjiku gravitate girls towards them with just a look on their eyes. Other than girls, Tenjiku had their own end of shenanigans, but it was the last thing they need at this moment.

Crowds are closing in, their adoration of screams submerging, deafening their hearing. Though the girls who pushed other aside went at Tenjiku’s direction.

“Sanzu, Kakucho, get Boss’s favorite drinks, too. We’re going to be stuck here for a while if someone doesn’t get his full set grub.”

Sanzu sighed. “Kaku,” he said.

“Way ahead of you,” Kakucho said with eyes lowered at the ground, marching ahead without anyone detecting him and Sanzu. After all, Haitani brothers and Kokonoi are the popular members of Bonten.

“Ran, its so good to see you,” the girl said, Akari, her eyes glimmered in flirtatious piercing behind her animated smile.

“Good to see you, too,” Ran said, somewhat awkwardly stiff.

“When are you going to have the next party?” Akari twirled her hair.

“Your last party is so fucking cool,” Akari’s friend, Noriko beamed.

“You’re so handsome in person, Ran,” Kaori added.

Akari sent a glare at Noriko’s direction. Noriko stayed quiet, backing in two steps.

“I was wondering if you’re going to let me know about the next party. So that,” Akari went near towards Ran and slithered her index finger, lining it downward on his chiseled chest beneath the suit, “so we could have some alone time.”

Ran’s face scrunched, leaning his upper body backwards from her slithered touch.

“I appreciate if you try to keep the fingers to yourself,” Ran advised, his voice unsteadied for a second but recollect back to his usual calm self.

“Oh, I’ve been keeping fingers to myself. I kept busy, thinking about you. You’re all I could think about, me and you at your bedroom, talking so sweetly to me.”

“You mean his dick and his money?” Rindou intruded, standing beside Ran.

“I’m sorry I don’t ever recall on asking you to talk, puny mushroom.” Akari crossed her arms, and with a tilt on her head angled on the side, she gave Rindou’s sudden appearance with pure disgust in her eyes, despite wearing a sweet smile etched on her lips.

Rindou’s brow twitched.

Ran cleared his throat. “I appreciate the compliment, but as of right now, we’re in a hurry to grab lunch for my friend.”

In an instant, Akari wrapped her arms around Ran’s right arm, hugging it against her chest, tight as an iron grip.

“We could make time. Starting now. Just you and me, together, talking about us.” She released a half-hearted giggle. “We’re going to be best of friends, or whatever you wanted me to be as.”

Rindou pushed her back with brute force, and watched Akari fell back on the floor with a squeak slid from her shoes.

“Ow—hey! What the hell?!” Akari said with a sharp hiss. Her shoulder pained from a sudden push.

“Stop touching my brother,” Rindou warned. “There’s a rule to anyone who shouldn’t touch a Bonten member or going near us by 3 inches.”

“You know what that means, don’t you?” Kokonoi dared Akari.

“Bitch,” one shouted from the crowd. “Respect their space!”

“Get off of their space!” Another voice shouted from the thickened crowd.

The crowd roared with agreement, chanting.

Akari, who drew a long sigh onto her pain, gave one last look on Rindou before scurrying from the cafeteria with her friends following her. The chanting soon died down and went back onto their lives.

“It turns out she’s nothing but a cheap knock-off, dubbed herself as a rich girl,” Rindou said.

“How do you know?”

“She stole some her parents’s money from the bank account from winning a lottery,” Kokonoi informed, scrolling onto his latest smartphone.

Rindou and Ran whipped their head fast. “They won the lottery?!”

“Since two weeks ago, their fortune is around the cost of 900 million yen.”

“And none of her parents noticed her stealing their shit?” Ran exclaimed.

“Akari blamed it on her relatives. Apparently she declared and dubbed her relatives as poor and desperate. She also claimed that she got a job that has a high-paying salary. She never got a job.”

The Haitani brothers drew their breath in.

What a fucking nightmare to be with.

“Well, that explains why she acted so confident,” Ran said.

“Let me ask you this question. Did you fuck her at our last party?” Rindou asked.

“Never,” Ran answered. “I was at the bar the whole time with Kakucho, serving up time for other ladies who are demanding my attention. Besides, I don’t recall on fucking her silly. I’m completely sober all night at our last party.”

“Was she at our last party?” Rindou whipped his head, asking Kokonoi.

“I don’t think so. I didn’t see her and her friends’s names on the list.”

“So, she decides to talk big on us,” Ran concluded.

“On you,” Rindou emphasized.

“What a joke. She doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Akari’s usually a quiet girl. What made her changed her alterego?”

“Her parents’s winning lottery.”

They all laughed. By then, they were still waiting up on Sanzu and Kakucho.

“What’s taking them so long?” Ran scratched his head, then fixing his usual hairstyle back again in gentlest caress, flicked his wrist to check the time on an expensive watch he bought two days ago.

“Dunno,” Rindou said. “We should catch up onto them. You know how girls are, they can be real rowdy, still trying to block our way.”

“That’s what we get for being pretty,” Ran said with a cheeky smile.

Kokonoi was the first person on heading straight towards Sanzu and Kakucho. They marked and registered the school’s map in their minds. They walked around school several times—in the matter of their routine—to fill the girls’s heads with cloud nine. This should be a cinch to them.

Little did they know, there was a real challenge lurking at their path, soon to divulged, to be crossed with their world with someone else’s.

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didee-anne · 2 months

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I needed to take a small break so here’s what I’ve been up to the last month.

I finished Nikki’s afghan! Liam picked the yarn out for his but it’s been a slow start for me since it’s granny squares and I’m having a bear of a time starting in the round.

I got the fun idea to try incubating my own eggs from my hens and out of the 12 I put in there 10 are fertile, and they could start hatching as early as this Thursday or as late as Sunday. I’m excited to have chicks again because they’re so cute! I don’t enjoy having to butcher the roosters when they’re bigger but alas that’s just part of life. Rory butchered 3 of our adult roos a couple weeks ago and I gave two to friends and made one into soup. For the chickens I also decided to raise my own mealworms because a bag of those suckers is expensive! I want happy chickens on a budget and this is pretty easy and low maintenance. Kind of gross having them in my laundry room, but they’re quiet and out of the way. 😬

I decided to try my hand at sourdough, which is kind of funny because I’m not a huge fan of it. I enjoy making it but I leave the eating to Ror and the kids. I got a starter from my SIL and I named it George, after Nancy Drew’s best friend. My friend Paul asked for some starter and he ended up naming his George too so I have girl George and he has boy George. 😆

And lastly I decided to start some seeds indoors and they’re taking off! Tomorrow they’re being moved to larger planters since it’s still too cold to put them outside….. I might have been a little early getting them started but oh well.

#rambling #life update #I’m a crazy chicken lady #garden stuff #sourdough stuff #crocheting

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youcouldmakealife · 1 year

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Dave, Bryce/Jared; attitude

For the prompt: Dave getting a glimpse of Nucks Bryce, that is, happy-go-lucky, cheerful, literal baby kisser Bryce

There is no baby kissing here, alas, and Dave’s seeing Bryce at high alert considering the circumstances, but here continues the slow thaw of two people who have been on each other’s bad side for a long ass time at this point.

Also: Dave POV of the ~revelations!

Dave is not in the best of moods, leaving Vancouver Airport. For one, apparently Brian Foster just decided to make this an even bigger story than it was, and frankly that was already a much bigger story than Dave would like.

At least they haven’t been blindsided. That was always Dave’s biggest fear, dealing with this sort of thing without having the first idea of what to say or do, or worst of all, not even knowing it was a possibility. He’s got people going off script, but at least that means he had one. Has plans blowing up on him, but at least they had plans, had thought of this eventuality.

If Marcus hadn’t been as clear eyed and sure as he was that being out was a price he was willing to pay to come to Vancouver, they wouldn’t even be in this position. They might have been in a similar one, though — in hindsight they were only buying time and pushing a problem down the line with that article, and it spectacularly blew up in their faces.

Well, Dave’s face. Marcus and Matheson’s faces. Andreas had argued against it from the get-go, and Dave needs to remember that the reason he pays Andreas the big bucks is that he’s really fucking good at his job.

Not to mention he understands the whims and ways of the internet better than Dave ever could. Than Dave would ever want to, either. He’ll continue to be baffled, thanks. But next time he’ll also defer to Andreas’ superior knowledge on the matter, because all the reading between the lines he said was going to happen, well. It’s happened. And what was between the lines was a fucking essay, apparently.

Dave goes through all five stages of grief watching Brian Foster’s speech on repeat in a town car into the city. Dave’s with him on every damn point, but he’s also just poured gasoline on the flames Dave has been trying to put out. He’s never wanted to hit someone he agrees with wholeheartedly before, but Foster deserves a whack upside the head and a drink, honestly. Thankfully the conference with Bryce and Jared is tame, and not just in comparison, and Dave can breathe a sigh of relief that they know how to follow marching orders, even if their GM doesn’t.

Dave gets himself a cup of coffee that isn’t airport shit and gives Andreas a call, mostly to vent about what the fuck Brian Foster thought he was accomplishing — that is a man who wanted to be Superman or some shit growing up, Dave can tell. He’s finished the rant and mostly finished the coffee when he gets the proverbial thumbs up from Bryce, and heads over to Chez Marcus Matheson. Usually he meets with clients at a restaurant, but that’s out for obvious reasons, and with neutral ground out — and he doesn’t consider Rogers Arena that — the best place is somewhere away from prying eyes that Bryce feels safe, even if Dave has to intrude a little.

Their place looks different than he thought it would. It’s a condo for one, instead of a big place out in the burbs, but Vancouver’s expensive and they’re close to the arena, so Dave gets that. With apartments and condos Dave’s used to a particular type of young dude decorating, or lack thereof, but it’s not the typical hockey player pad, outside of the framed pucks and the absolutely massive TV, game console and cords tangled around it. Give a guy an NHL contract, the first thing he’s buying a TV as tall as he is. Which — fair enough, honestly. Makes your highlights pop. Dave’s sure it’s more for the killing dudes in PVP, but — also fair enough.

“Nice place,” Dave says, as Bryce watches him look around.

“It’s usually cleaner,” Bryce says, a little warily, like he’s not sure if Dave’s being sarcastic. He’s not — he has very low standards for ‘nice’ when it comes to the places of his younger guys. Single guys too, and while obviously Marcus isn’t that, it’s a place where two dudes in their twenties are living. As someone who was once that — single, married, and divorced — well. He’s not being sarcastic. “We’ve, been, y’know. Hiding out, like you told us.”

“Good,” Dave says. “Jared’s at the arena?”

“Pregame, yeah,” Bryce says.

Dave would ask if Jared wants to be pulled out, get a few more days to put together his armor, but guys don’t like it if you skip out on games for any reason that isn’t injury or illness, maybe childbirth, a death in the immediate family. If he did ask Jared would say no, even if he did need it, and the coaching staff would get pissed about Dave stepping on their toes if they haven’t already asked him themselves.

“You don’t have to be there tonight,” Dave says instead. It’s one thing for Jared to miss a game, but Bryce can watch the game from home just as well as he can watch it from the press box, and nobody’s going to fault him for ducking out right now. Well, anyone who does probably would make a stink about anything, practically looking for something to hold against him, and Dave doesn’t have any interest in playing to those particular cheap seats.

Bryce is shaking his head before Dave even finishes. “Jared,” he says simply, like that’s self-explanatory, and maybe it is.

“You’re not going to do Jared any good sitting in the press box,” Dave says, then internally winces. It’s not like it isn’t true, but it sounds a little harsher than he’d like, considering the situation. No guy likes sitting there, looking on, and Dave tries to avoid piling on.

“I don’t want people thinking this is something I’m ashamed of,” Bryce says. His tone’s getting sharper, and there’s that stubborn jaw again, the one Dave’s learned at this point there’s no point arguing with.

“It was just an option,” Dave says. “Nobody’s saying you’re ashamed.”

Bryce raises a shoulder, lowers it, something Dave would call a shrug only at a stretch. “I was, though. Like, not of Jared, obviously I’d never be ashamed of him, but like…“

“I get it,” Dave says, taking pity on him when he trails off. “Got to say, Jared’s good for you. Keeps you—“

Dave doesn’t know quite how to finish that, but regardless, he’s good for him.

“Out of trouble?” Bryce supplies after a moment, and Dave has to laugh.

“You think this isn’t trouble?” he asks.

He can see Bryce bristling, the way he always used to, whatever Dave told him always the exact worst thing. Dave swears he used to look for reasons to be pissed off, but then, he was a pretty miserable kid, and with hindsight, it’s not hard to see why. Not hard to see why he’s bristling now either, and Dave can’t blame him for being defensive either.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, though,” Dave says.

“No,” Bryce says, a little slow to agree.

“Let’s go see your boy, yeah?” Dave says, and this time Bryce’s agreement is wholehearted.

#fic snippet #SOTM #dave summers #bryce marcus #jared matheson

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itsnothingofinterest · 1 year

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Hey 👋🙂 how's everything going?

Can I run a ,not very solid but interesting, theory by you?

Do you think it could be a toga/twice clone who stops dabi from exploding?

Because Dabi can't die (and if he does a lot of setups in bnha will end in failure) and there's no one else who could realistically stop Dabi from trying to kill himself to end endeavor?

Nothing endeavor does can stop Dabi, not just because of his quirk but I can't really think of anything he could say that would have enough of an impact at this point.

And while shoto might get another shot, it doesn't really matter if he (somehow) manages to overpower Dabi's quirk, because shoto already gave his brother an answer, a somewhat poorly thoughtout one.

The rest of the todoroki family may be close by but they didn't seem intent to leave the shelter or try to confront Dabi themselves even if they did.

I don't know exactly how toga/twice clones could stop or convince Dabi not to explode but it could be cool for more Lov bonds content, and because it seems like no one else can do it.

Do you think so or different? Or did you have any theories?

Going good, thanks for asking. Regarding your theory, and going through the situation character by character:

Endeavor, until recently, I actually did think could get through to Touya in the brief time BNHA has left. All he’d need to do is finally put being a father over being a hero for specifically Touya’s sake; and for a while he just so happened to drag his villain-killing Dabi-rivalling coworker Hawks everywhere who could provide such an opportunity. It could’ve been as easy as Hawks tossing feathers Dabi’s way & Endeavor’s body moving before he could think in the way of the attack. Wouldn’t have to be lethal or anything, just taking the damage would speak so much to Touya. But alas, that’s now off the table. As is seemingly any other opportunity for Endeavor to save Touya, especially at the expense of his heroic duties. Under these circumstances they’re pretty solidly on opposite sides of a conflict where all Endeavor can do is “save the day” or die trying. Best he could do for Touya is apologize and try to reason with him; and this far in I don’t think words alone would be enough. What Endeavor has always needed to do is put Touya first, but he can’t under this set-up so…yeah.

While Shoto would be able to do more to stop at least the explosion; I certainly get where you’re coming from with his hurdles in actually talking Touya down, an important step in the process. A big part of why I keep harping on about a part 2 of BNHA is characters not being nearly ready to conclude their arcs; and that includes Shoto not being ready to really save his brother and talk him out of villainy. As you said; he gave all he had to say, it was insufficient and couldn’t reach Touya, and as much as I hoped otherwise when Stain appeared, nothing’s changed in him or what he would say since Dabi left for Gunga a few minutes ago. He could still save Dabi from exploding; but much like Deku saving Tomura from just AFO if he gets to UA, that alone wouldn’t really solve any of the core issues that brought us here. At most, it’d show that the kids have a bit more character than anticipated, maybe convince the villains they won’t be entirely hopeless as heroes, but be nowhere near sufficiently cover or make up for everything.

So as for Toga/Twice playing a part, I could see the potential. Like Endeavor, there’s not much they could do to stop the explosion besides try to talk him into not blowing himself up; but unlike Endeavor, I actually think they could have a shot at that. Mainly because, if either asked Dabi not to off himself, there’s no way it could be anything but a genuine decree that his life has value; where as Endeavor would have great difficulty sounding genuine saying the same thing. There are a few issues though; and the main one I see is that Toga’s entire parade seems to have been corralled somewhere far from all the innocent civilians Endeavor is leading Dabi too. Plus Toga has her own arc anyway to resolve. So I don’t know how she’d talk to Dabi on this.

As for my own theories, well maybe I just have trouble letting go of ideas but I still think Shigaraki should use the AFO quirk to save his allies; Dabi & Spinner in particular. I’m almost as short on details as you are on how Toga/Twice would save Dabi, this is also just an interesting theory I have; but if Warps somehow enter into play then Tomura would probably have an easy enough time both stopping the bomb and telling Dabi not to off himself. Boss-man’s word is law after all, but more importantly he’d sound just as genuine as Toga or Twice saying Dabi should live. Failing that though; maybe it’ll be some combination of the above. Shoto stops the explosion, Toga convinces Dabi to live, and they retreat to Tomura who gives Dabi Hyper-Regen to heal his injuries so he can fight another day, possibly after thinking through some stuff he'll need to think over after the war. And Endeavor is also there, maybe throwing out an apology, for what little it's worth. Maybe he dies too, I don’t know; he's got a few death flags of his own but either way's fine I guess.

(Oh, and just regarding the rest of the family; I'm actually not sure what part they'll play. They could try to help, but it's Shoto's story in the end so maybe they'll just play the citizens Endeavor Dabi endangers to show him going to far or whatever. Thought gut feeling; I'm not sure they'd have the easiest time talking him down anyway either.)

#ask & reply #bnha #bnha 386 #dabi #touya todoroki #toga himiko #twice #jin bubaigawara #shigaraki tomura #paranormal liberation front #PLF #shoto todoroki #enji todoroki #anti endeavor #anti hawks #my stupid long term predictions

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persejackson · 2 years

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𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐄☕: 005. a trip down memory lane

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: the group mystic is about to debut under bighit entertainment. in celebration of their debut teaser coming out, they visit the hybe cafe for some coffee and sweets. just as they were leaving, y/n bumps into jay of enhypen and spills coffee all over his expensive shirt which also turned out to be his favorite one.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: idol!jay x idol!fem!reader

taglist is open, send an ask or comment to be added

WARNING: fainting, overworking, overachiever trauma

(AT MCOUNTDOWN) (THIRD PERSON POV)

Y/N HAD NEVER FELT AS MANY EMOTIONS AS SHE DID TODAY.

Nervousness, Fear, Excitement, and Joy made her heart palpitate as if she had just run a mile. Everything felt overwhelming at the moment. It struck her yesterday that she finally made it, but today made everything more real. Although she was very much thrilled for all this to be happening, a part of her felt like she wanted to hide and bury herself 6 feet underground.

At a young age, she knew what she wanted to be, and what she wanted to do. She wanted to be a star, she wanted all the praise, all the compliments, all the cheers.

She loved that when she started singing and dancing, everyone would praise her for her talents. She loved that all eyes were on her, all the attention was on her. She didn’t only excel in the field of music and rhythm, but she excelled academically as well. For that, she was praised for her intelligence, but in her head, she knew that she was only ever good at memorizing terms and formulas that eventually vanished from her brain in about a month.

With all that talent, came pressure. Sticking to the same achievements, the same ranks—no longer pleased anybody. When she won first place in singing or dancing contests, all that came out of her parents’ mouths was a cold and simple congratulations.

When she came home to announce that she had been at the top of their class, once again, only a small 'congratulations' and they went back to whatever they were doing. Not even a hug? she thought to herself and scoffed.

“That’s it?” she asked them, and they turned their heads to her in confusion.

“Well…it is what’s expected of you Y/N.” her father firmly said and once again focused on other things.

She lived for the attention, for the praise. But what can she do now that they’re both gone?

She worked harder. Studying from 7 PM to 2 AM every weekday, and had voice and dance practice from 6 AM to 12 AM on weekends. Surely with all that she would be better.

Eventually, the praises were back. She went from local to national singing competitions, and even went international for her academic competitions. At first, she was happy. She got back everything she wanted.

She got the praise and attention back. And with all the praise and attention, she felt loved.

Alas, moments of glory do not last forever.

As time went on, she got tired of everything. She felt like she was on the brink of going insane. She grew weaker by the day and she finally hit her breaking point one day during dance practice and fainted. Her teachers rushed her to the hospital and called her parents along the way. According to the doctors, it was caused by a lack of sleep and food.

After that incident, everything went downhill. Because she grew tired, she slowed down. Was starting to lag in her classes and her dance and vocal practice. People started talking bad about her and underestimating her. She honestly felt like shit, so she persevered to be at the top again.

It was like a tiring cycle. She’d make it to the top, then fall back down, climb back to the top again, and then fall again.

And now here she is, finally an idol.

Who else gets more praise, cheers, attention, and love than them right? But she knew with all the love that came with being an idol there will always be hate. She was afraid that eventually, she will disappoint people, and the people that once loved her will hate her.

She both loved and feared being on stage. Loved the praise if she did well but feared the disappointment if she didn’t.

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a/n: yeah, a tad bit of angst and a deep dive into y/n's past. please be reminded that this is all fictional :)

(also, so sorry if ever there are errors that i haven't noticed. for some reason i can never seem to spot all errors)

TAGLIST (OPEN): @iloveoceaneyes @cyuuupid @hanniesdawn @lockburn-castle @shinsou-rii @stopeatread @yjwluvr @nvmbheart @02zluvbot @vatterie

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