#he specifically has that cropped blue one
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Hot take:
Dick Grayson wears an Aritzia Super Puff.
#dc#dick grayson#superpuff#aritzia#batfamily#winter#christmas#batfamily home videos#batfamily tweets#batfam#once this image stuck in my head it will not leave#he specifically has that cropped blue one#he wears like white earmuffs and black yoga pants with it too#he wears it well
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AND THAT'S A WRAP ON WWDITS FILMING...[wails loudly]
I hope these actors know how much they have done for me, specifically. And how many times I have drawn their dumb faces dkjfhk.
Please consider donating to Medical Aid for Palestine! It's what Kayvan would want. :) 🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1. Waist up of Guillermo and Harvey Guillén on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Harvey!' Harvey's skin is slightly tanner than Guillermo's, his hair is sun-bleached and curling freely over his forehead, and he is wearing a blue knit crop top and denim overalls. He is hugging Guillermo from behind with his chin on his shoulder, grinning up at the viewer. Guillermo, wearing a white shirt and brown patterned cardigan, is cupping Harvey's hands with his own over his chest and looking at him with a fond smile, cheeks pressed together.
2. Waist up of Nandor and Kayvan Novak on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Kayvan!' Kayvan's skin is a rich brown against Nandor's vampire pallor and his half-up hair and slightly longer beard are graying; he is wearing a dangly gold earring in his left ear and is wearing a lime green button up tee with a red watermelon pattern. He has picked Nandor up in a hug with his arms wrapped around his waist. Nandor, wearing a long brown kaftan under a orange diamond-patterned coat with short furred sleeves, has his right hand braced on Kayvan's shoulder and the other wrapped around his back. They are both grinning widely and looking at the viewer.
3. Waist up of Nadja, Nadja doll, and Natasia Demetriou on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Natasia!' Natasia is lightly tanned and has chest wavy length hair with bangs, dark brown at the roots with honey brown and blonde highlights throughout. She is wearing a periwinkle skirt and bandeau top with an outer layer of translucent chiffon in the same color, along with poofy off-shoulder chiffon sleeves, several rings, and a thin chain necklace with her name on it. Nadja and Dolly are matching in dark blue v neck gowns with a gold pattern and front buttons, their hair half up in twin horns. Nadja is grinning at the viewer, fangs out, and leaning heavily into Natasia's side, pressing their shoulders together. Dolly sits on their shared shoulder space, perched directly between their heads with her arms around them, smiling up at the viewer. Nadja's right arm is up under Dolly to support her legs. Natasia's right arm is bent upward like one might do to support a perching bird and her left is palming Dolly's knees to keep her in place. She is smiling over at the Nadjas, half bent over from their weight leaning on her.
4. Waist up of Laszlo and Matt Berry on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Matt!' Matt is pale (but clearly more alive than Laszlo), with wavy shoulder length hair streaked with gray and a graying beard that has been allowed to grow a bit further past his chin. He is wearing a plain white tee shirt, denim jacket, and silver chain necklace. Laszlo is wearing a red button up dashingly open at the collar under a dark blue waistcoat and lighter blue jacket with a darker damask pattern. They are standing mirrored, back-to-back with their arms crossed and shoulders pressed together, looking back over their shoulders at each other. Matt smiles at his character lazily while Laszlo offers him a mildly salacious smirk.
5. Waist up of Colin Robinson and Mark Proksch on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Mark!' Mark is standing facing the viewer with squared shoulders, wearing a blue and white plaid shirt with a chest pocket, only the top button undone. Were it not for the color and a slight shape change to his glasses, you wouldn't be able to tell him from his character. Colin is standing directly behind and to the right of him, wearing a brown v neck sweater over a beige collar and dull red tie. His head is tipped back and his mouth is open in a wide grin, eyes glowing bright blue behind his glasses. Mark glances at him from the corner of his eye with a slightly amused smirk.
6. Waist up of the Guide and Kristen Schaal on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Kristen!' Kristen is pale in a human way with chin length curly brown hair and is wearing a loose empire waist black tank top under a translucent yellow chiffon top with a frilled neckline and elbow length balloon sleeves. The Guide is smiling open-mouthed at Kristen and wearing her usual black square cap, jacket, skirt, and gloves. They are back to back, elbows linked together to keep each other close, with Kristen leaning backward into the Guide so she stoops forward slightly. Kristen's far hand flashes a peace sign as she grins over at the Guide, tongue between her teeth. /end ID
#wwdits#shadowsart#guillermo de la cruz#harvey guillen#nandor the relentless#kayvan novak#nadja of antipaxos#natasia demetriou#laszlo cravensworth#matt berry#colin robinson#mark proksch#the guide wwdits#kristen schaal#what we do in the shadows#what we do in the shadows fx#my art#fanart#image described
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Ready
An anxious!reader fic.
Summary: Harry wants kids. Y/N isn’t sure what she wants. Feeling pressured to make up her mind, she agrees to something she’s not ready for.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: angst, smut
A/N: Hello! It’s been a while. This fic is based on this ask I received forever ago. Enjoy :)
***
Y/N has always been on the fence about having kids.
As a young teenager, she assumed she would have them when she grew up, fell in love, and got married. Social norms, along with her own childish naivete, made her believe that this was the only path one could take in life. Having children was the next logical step to marriage, which was the next logical step to falling in love.
And then she matured and realized that life is not nearly as cut-and-dry, that having kids is a choice, not a necessity, and that she can absolutely go her whole life without having any if that’s what she wants. This realization came as a relief but also felt somewhat unnerving because how is she supposed to know what she wants? She is quite possibly the most indecisive person on the planet, so it’s no surprise that she has bounced back and forth between wanting and not wanting children throughout her entire adult life.
On one hand, she thinks of her friends who have kids and how their lives have become utterly consumed by the little humans that require their constant care and attention. There is just so much that Y/N wants to experience and achieve before settling into a life like that.
Not to mention the horrors of pregnancy. It’s not exactly a walk in the park, having to carry a human life inside of you for nine months and then give birth to it. The health complications, the irreversible bodily changes, the sheer, agonizing pain of childbirth.
And yet, on some days, she fantasizes about becoming a mother, of holding a tiny life in her arms and nurturing it into a full-grown adult. An important character in these fantasies has always been the sweet, thoughtful, loving partner by her side who takes equal responsibility for their child. This person was always a faceless individual—an idealistic depiction of the kind of partner Y/N hoped to find someday.
And then Harry came along.
Sweet, thoughtful, loving Harry who, unlike her, was always sure of his desire to have kids. For him, it was never a question of whether he wanted them but a question of when.
That moment finally arrived for him a year ago. But Y/N wasn’t sure if she felt ready yet.
“What are you afraid of?” he asked her one day. “I don’t mean that in a judgemental way. Bringing a child into this world is scary for anyone, including myself. I’m just curious to know what your specific concerns are.”
“Well, there’s the usual stuff, like whether or not I’ll be a good mother—”
“You’ll be a phenomenal mother.”
She smiled at him, then continued, “Or whether my kids will be able to have a good future with so much chaos in the world...” She trailed off hesitantly.
“But there’s something else,” he said, gently urging her to share what was really holding her back.
“I… I’ve always been terrified of the idea of having to raise a child alone, either because something bad happens to the father or he leaves out of the blue or we break up and I’m left to take care of this child by myself. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I… I’ve never been able to shake this fear.”
“Doesn’t sound ridiculous to me. I was raised by a single mother, so I know it’s not an easy job.” He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckle, never breaking eye contact. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You know that, right? We’re in this together. We’re a team, always.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“Well, I’m alright with waiting until you feel ready. I want us both to feel ready before we jump into this.”
In the six months following that conversation, the topic would crop up several more times, like after Harry saw her interacting with his godchildren at a party or they walked past a cute baby in a stroller at the grocery store. Y/N didn’t mind discussing the topic. It gave her a chance to ponder and become more comfortable with the concept of motherhood.
Yesterday, Harry returned home from a month-long movie shoot in Sweden. Y/N surprised him by showing up at the airport. What he doesn’t know is that she has another surprise in store for him.
While he was in Sweden, she decided to go off her birth control and now wants to try for kids.
She plans on telling him later tonight once they get home from their friend’s birthday party. They’ve been all over each other tonight. That’s what being apart for a month does to them. Hell, even a week apart is enough to turn them into a couple of horny teenagers that can’t keep their hands off each other.
“You look so hot in that dress,” Harry whispers in her ear, half-joking because they both know this is his fifth time saying that tonight.
Emboldened by a couple glasses of wine, a tipsy Y/N whispers back, “I want you to put a baby in me.”
His eyes widen. He chuckles. “That wine bringing out your wild side?”
“I’m serious,” she states, glancing around to double check that no one is within earshot of their conversation. “I went off my birth control a month ago, after you left for Sweden.”
He stares at her blankly, like her words haven’t quite sunk in.
“H, I’m ready to do this.”
“Really?”
She smiles. “Yes.”
“We’re doing this,” he says as it finally sinks in. He kisses her wine-stained lips. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”
“Yes, please.”
Y/N can hardly keep her composure on the way home. Harry appears to be in the same boat, as he keeps sneaking glances at her while driving, his hand caressing her thigh. While he’s always been a responsible driver, she can sense the impatience in his maneuvers tonight.
Once they’re home, it’s almost a race to the bedroom. Harry gently pushes her onto the bed and climbs on top of her.
“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to watch you walk around in this dress tonight”—he runs a hand down her front—“and not be able to bend you over and just slip my cock into you?”
She moans as he cups her pussy through her dress with a firm hand. He lets her grind against it for a minute before pulling away to take off his clothes. She follows suit.
Soon, they’re back on the bed, sharing another series of ardent kisses. By the time he goes down on her, she’s already dripping wet and he licks it up as if he hasn’t had a drop of water in days. Her hips grind against his tongue like they did against his hand just a moment ago. It doesn’t take her long to orgasm.
He shifts up the bed to hover over her body. He kisses her again while lining up his cock with her entrance. As he slides into her, she feels a slight discomfort from being stretched open for the first time in a month. He pulls out and pushes in a little deeper each time to let her adjust until he fills her up completely and she’s too immersed in pleasure to have a single coherent thought anymore.
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to pump in and out. “Gonna come inside you, yeah? Gonna come deep inside your tight little cunt and fill you up, put a baby in you. Is that what you want?”
Those words flip a switch in Y/N’s mind. She makes an involuntary noise that makes it seem like she’s agreeing with him, so he picks up his pace. Just as he finishes inside her, the terrible realization dawns: She is not ready to have a baby. Not at all.
“I love you,” Harry whispers in her ear, his body resting flush against hers as he comes down from his high.
Tears spring to Y/N’s eyes as she realizes what she’s done, what they’ve just done. When she doesn’t reciprocate his statement, he lifts his head to look at her. A tear escapes her left eye at that exact moment.
Concern furrows his brow. “Lovie? Hey, what’s wrong?”
She just shakes her head while staring at the ceiling.
“Y/N.” He caresses her cheek, urging her to look at him. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt? Did I go too—”
“We shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake,” she says in a trembling voice.
“What are you talking about?”
She tries to sit up. Harry moves out of her way.
“I’m not ready, H. I’m not ready to have a baby.”
His face falls. “I— But— Then why did you say you were ready?”
“I don’t know… To make you happy?” She covers her face and hears him sigh heavily.
“Y/N, you can’t— You can’t lie about things like that just to make me happy. It’s not like we were deciding what to have for dinner. We’re talking about having a baby, for Christ’s sake.”
“I know that. Of course I know that. But I just— I see the disappointment in your face every time we talk about this, every time I tell you I’m not ready. You seem so sad, Harry. I hate it.”
“Well, I’m sorry I’m not able to hide my emotions as well as I thought I could. That still doesn’t mean you should lie to please me. I thought we were past foolish antics like this.”
She squints at him. “Foolish antics?”
He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like—”
She turns away from him and gets off the bed.
“Y/N.”
She shuts herself in the bathroom. For a brief moment, a part of her resents him. Resents him for being ready to have kids before she was. For bringing it up so often. For making her feel as though she needed to lie about being ready just to make him happy.
But now, as she stares at her teary-eyed reflection in the mirror, she knows she has to take responsibility. She is the one who led him to believe that she was ready when deep down, she knew she wasn’t. He never once pressured her to make up her mind or acted like he loved her any less for not wanting kids yet. He never made her feel any type of way about it. He has done nothing but be the supportive, understanding partner he’s always been. It was her who doubted that. She let her own paranoia get to her.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Y/N? Can I come in?”
A few moments later, he knocks again.
“Please, lovie? I’m getting worried.”
Finally, she opens the door. He takes in her red, puffy eyes and tentatively places his arms around her, only pulling her in when she steps into his embrace.
They stand there silently until he says, “Why don’t we head over to the pharmacy and get you a morning after pill?”
She agrees, so they get dressed and head out. The ride to the pharmacy is a quiet one. Every time she glances at Harry, his eyes are focused on the road, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and he appears deep in thought. It’s the complete opposite of their ride home from the party, when he could hardly keep his hands or his eyes off her. She tries to think of ways to break the silence, but nothing feels appropriate. The last time she felt so awkward and unsure about what to say around Harry was when they first started going out and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing.
When they get back from the pharmacy, she swallows down the pill with some water and they head back to bed.
***
Y/N: Hey H, you on your way home? Hope you’re hungry, I made your favourite for dinner 😊
H: I have a business dinner tonight. Mentioned it this morning
Y/N: Oh! Sorry I forgot about that. I’ll save some in the fridge for you for tomorrow
H: Sure, thanks
Y/N stares at the message. She can’t tell if she’s reading into things or if Harry’s replies really are as dry and aloof as they sound. Her propensity to overanalyze everything makes it difficult to know. Ever since the incident in the bedroom a few days ago, it feels as though Harry has been avoiding her. Spending long days at the studio, coming home late at night when he knows she’ll be asleep, giving short replies, taking longer to text back. They haven’t had sex again since then either.
After scrutinizing their text conversation for twenty minutes, she comes to her senses and realizes that she can’t keep going on like this. It’s driving her crazy. What she needs to do is talk to him. But he’ll most likely be tired when he gets home.
At first, she thinks she’ll sit him down tomorrow morning and talk it out. But when he walks through the front door just after eleven o’clock that night, she can’t help herself.
She stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea, when he enters. The dark circles under his eyes are noticeable. He has been willing to sacrifice his sleep just to avoid being around her any longer than he has to. Her chest constricts.
“Hey,” he says, placing his phone and keys on the counter. “You’re still up.”
“Can’t sleep.” She stares down into her half-empty mug, the remainder of the tea quickly growing cold.
“How come?”
“I can’t stop thinking.”
“About…?”
She swallows the lump in her throat and looks up at him. “About whether or not you’re upset with me and how I can fix it.”
He frowns. “Why would I be upset with you?”
“Because of what happened a few nights ago.”
His frown dissolves into something different—sympathy? Guilt?
“Y/N, I’m not upset with you about that.”
“Are you sure? Because it seems like it. You’re gone before I’m even awake and you come home when I’m going to bed. We’ve barely talked or kissed or cuddled in the past few days. I know you haven’t been that busy since you got back from Sweden, so… I don’t really see any other explanation.”
He stares at her wordlessly for a long time before speaking. “You’re right. I have been avoiding you. But it’s not because I’m upset with you. It’s because I’m upset with myself. I feel like I pressured you into doing something you obviously weren’t comfortable with. I never saw myself as someone who pressures people into doing things they don’t want to do. So, I suppose I’ve been feeling some shame and guilt about it… and then avoiding you because it’s hard to face these feelings.”
Y/N sets her tea on the counter. She never could’ve guessed that Harry felt this way. She was so convinced that he was mad at her, it didn’t even occur to her that he might just be feeling guilty about it all. After how long she has known him, it should have been obvious that the latter is more consistent with his character, but her anxious brain wouldn’t even let her consider that possibility. She walks over and wraps her arms around him.
“H, I had no idea you felt that way.”
He squeezes her tightly, resting his chin on her head. She turns her head to the side so that her cheek is against his chest.
“To be honest, there were times I felt pressured when the topic of kids came up,” she says. “But a lot of that pressure was created by my own fears and insecurities. I just hated disappointing you over and over. I was scared your feelings about me, about us, would change if I kept saying I wasn’t ready.”
“This hasn’t changed how I feel about you or us. Y/N, I want you more than I want kids. Way more. If you decided one day that you don’t want them at all, that still wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”
She pulls back to look at him. “Are you sure? That’s a dealbreaker for a lot of people.”
“Well, not for me. Not when it comes to you. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Suddenly, he lifts her up onto the counter and stands between her legs.
“So. What did you get up to today?” he asks, planting a kiss to her collarbone.
She rests her hands on his chest. “Hmm, what did I get up to? I hardly remember anything other than obsessing over this whole situation.” She laughs.
“Aw, lovie, I’m sorry I had you all stressed out.”
“It’s okay.”
“Maybe I can make it up to you. Help you relieve all that stress.” He peppers kisses along the side of her neck and jaw.
She sighs softly and closes her eyes. “I would like that.”
***
Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagines#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x you#harry styles fic#harry styles writing#harry styles x y/n#harry styles oneshot#anxious!reader#my writing
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Little Bird / Coriolanus Snow
summary: Being the Capitol's favorites subject has consequences. Consequences that subject to be paired with the most influential man in Panem entirely.
notes **reader is an idol/singer in Capitol's first attempt into making a group for each annual Hunger Games. but with snow's obsession into making you entirely his and with his job as mentoring lucy gray, he tries his very best, but fails miserably.
ps ; english isn't my first language so i apologize in advance for some minor errors and please do not copy my work without credit thank you!
Your connection with Snow encompassed diverse facets. At times, he exuded an irresistible charm, drawing you in effortlessly. Yet, in the next moment, his piercing blue eyes locked onto yours with audacious intent, as if daring anyone to approach and touch even the slightest expanse of your skin – a challenge few would ever contemplate.
Being the Capitol's favorite came with its own set of challenges. Compliments on your skills or charisma were either sincere or fueled by envy, making it doubly difficult for those striving to surpass their yearly earnings. This aspect of Panem's functioning was something Coriolanus exploited way too much. The artificiality of the stage, adorned with makeup to project an illusion of wealth, highlighted what he found enduring. The ease with which one could become the favorite by merely speaking or moving to the latest musical rhythm was something Coriolanus himself could not keep his eyes away from. And that person was you.
He despised witnessing other men vying for your attention, their eyes lighting up as soon as you entered the Capitol's theater. There was no denying that you were the favorite member among your group. However, during your debut, the spotlight only found you officially when it was announced that the Capitol's new favorite group would be welcoming a new member. Given your position at the Academy, your choices were limited – either mentoring a tribute and risk bringing shame to your family if they lost. Or become part of Panem's newest favored diversion. It wasn’t until the very next day, that many became obsessed with you. And as much as Coriolanus tried to oblige on that single though, he was afraid to admit that he too became a little too obsessed over you.
To compound Coriolanus's discomfort, he had to endure the ceaseless styling rituals accompanying each new album or song released to the public. This entailed donning short skirts and crops, transforming your body into a specific attire as a statue to be admired for hours on end. For the hapless Coriolanus, sitting there was challenging enough, watching you perform with a self-assured smirk, reveling in every bit of skin. How the skirt would flare up and brush against your skin, how he wanted to feel such fantasy. From each moments of your act, while beads of sweat glistened across every inch of your body. He couldn't help but fantasize scenarios from scenarios that you would be his, envisioning the two most influential figures of the Capitol as the perfect pair. And that was only during the ceremony of the 10th Hunger Games.
Post the 10th Hunger Games, a significant shift occurred. Lucy Gray's presence lingered in Coriolanus's thoughts, causing him to perceive you in a completely new light. You were constantly in his mind. Although you though, with hearing the constant rumors of a possible relationship between him and his tribute. While you continued to excel in your performances, earning the success both you and your group rightfully deserved, you were aware of Coriolanus's altered fate.
Once he had been sent back to District 12 after his victor, Lucy Gray, who was also a performer. He remembered occasionally, after the victory ceremony, how you had the opportunity to chat with Lucy Gray. Discovering that your old classmate may have developed feelings for her. As Coriolanus Snow’s proud smirk upon seeing the people he seemingly cared for interacting with each other. Only to be so blind by the fact that you had expressed prior feelings for him, but instead confidently expressed his plan to join forces and visit her in her District wasn’t what you had intended to hear.
While you refrained from expressing any objections, your suspicions regarding the burgeoning emotions between the two of them proved well-founded. Little did you know, Coriolanus engaged in those actions merely to divert his thoughts from you, acknowledging he wouldn't have a chance with you. Lucy Gray became his chosen distraction. Simultaneously, he caught wind of a potential rumor suggesting you were seen intimately with another man. The revelation that this man wasn't him intensified his already pronounced obsession with you. However, this time, Lucy Gray played a role in assisting him.
The revelation of his truth dawned on him only upon his return to Panem. The snake bite's impact intensified, with only your silhouette haunting his thoughts. In this return, he presented a wholly transformed appearance – his hair slightly longer, adorned in his father's old crimson jacket, albeit somewhat intoxicated, attempting to erase all memory of you. What Snow remained oblivious to was your patient anticipation during his absence in District 12. It was Tigris who knocked on your door that very evening, sparing you from the surprise of his return.
However, Snow chose to make his entrance at the stroke of midnight, reminiscent of the times when both of you would clandestinely navigate the Academy. In those intimate moments, he patiently bided his time for the Capitol streets to empty, stealthily entering through your bedroom window. Hours were spent in each other's arms, reveling in discussions about new projects, with his assurances that everything would be alright.
This time, however, an inebriated Snow had a different agenda beyond comforting cuddles for sleepless nights. His primary goal was to solidify your relationship officially. "If you don’t tell her, I will." Echoed Tigris’s voice in his mind upon seeing her cousin return from duty as a Peacekeeper. She was among the few who truly knew about the budding romantic connection between Coriolanus and you. She pleaded with her cousin to go ahead, noting. "She hasn't touched a man since the last time you spoke, you know." That last statement served as a testament to your unwavering fidelity towards him. It was only a matter of time before he knocked on your door that very night.
On the contrary, you took it upon yourself to tidy up the entire apartment. Anticipating Coriolanus's return, you were determined not to leave a single mess, mindful of both his and your own peace of mind. Despite the fact that chaos often defined your shared living space, when in each other's arms, you both found solace in tidiness and tranquility. However, as dinner passed and bedtime approached, you couldn't help but notice Coriolanus's absence. Was he running late, or was he entangled in some trouble that you would only learn about the next morning? Various questions raced through your mind as you attempted to drift off helplessly on the living room couch, with the TV's echo serving as a backdrop.
Coriolanus stood there silently, observing from a distance outside your apartment window. Anyone observing from afar would catch a glimpse of you nibbling at your cuticles – a habit he had learned you indulged in when he wasn't around, a realization that would later make him feel remorseful upon witnessing the marks it left on your fingers. In response, he would tenderly peck each bruise, a silent acknowledgment of your thoughts mirroring his own. However, this time, he chose to forgo surprising you with the cliché bouquet of flowers or any conventional gesture. After indulging in the contents of a second wine bottle before making his way to you, he had no plans of raiding the florist shop either. Knocking on your door with determination, he felt an unusual hesitation, a departure from his past boldness of entering and showering you with kisses. Contemplating the prospect of declaring you entirely as his, especially in his inebriated state, he wasn't entirely certain if you would fully trust his words.
Luckily, you had left the door ajar for him, a gesture he expected. Upon entering, he was met with the familiar background echo of the TV, confirming his assumption that you were already asleep. Nostalgia washed over him as he recalled the mornings spent lounging in bed with you or embarking on early runs for coffee. Despite his aspirations to bring about change in Panem and restore his family's reputation by aspiring to become President, he understood that true fulfillment wouldn't come until he had you by his side entirely. Limping slightly due to the effects of his drunkenness, he made his way into the living room and began to softly whisper your name, until his gaze met your sleeping figure. "Y/N... My sweet bird."
His breath carried warmth that gently brushed against your cold skin. Despite the lingering scent of alcohol, indicating Snow had been drinking before his arrival, your eyes responded to the touch of his finger delicately tracing your cheek. "Coryo…" you murmured his name with a loving tone, reveling in the vulnerability of calling out to him. "Shh… I am here," he reassured you, prompting a soft smile to grace your lips at the sound of his comforting voice. A voice you had missed dearly, compelling you to slowly rise from the much-needed slumber after a demanding day. However, lately, without Snow's presence in your arms, the nights became sleepless and challenging to endure alone. Despite acknowledging this truth, there was a conflicting sensation, a twinge of discomfort knowing that Coriolanus relished the fact that without him, you felt incomplete. It was this dynamic that rendered the two of you an unforgettable pair, seemingly inseparable.
“How I missed you so much.” He continued to say, with seeing your face arousing from your slumber, how he had missed kissing your soft lips each night before going to sleep. If it wasn’t for being a Peacekeeper back in District 12, he’d say he was damn for letting himself kiss Lucy Gray while thinking of you the entire time. “I missed you more, Coryo. Everytime, during performances and even in my relentless dreams.”
A subtle smile played on his features as his fingers traced down your body, an unspoken desire evident in his every touch. His lips yearned to kiss every inch, a longing to finally claim you as his own. He envisioned proudly holding your hand in public, marking you as his and sending a clear message to other men about your ownership. "You want to know something?" The amusement in his voice prompted a soft giggle from you, appreciating his seemingly all-knowing manner of sharing information, despite the evident effects of his earlier drinking. "What, drunk boy?" You playfully teased, noting the light pink hue that adorned his cheeks—a clear sign of his inebriation.
He vehemently denied it with a pout, his lips subtly mimicking a desire for a kiss. Coryo was just touch starved. "You know, I haven't been properly fed with love lately. Coryo has been away from his bird for far too long..." His voice deepened, the intensity of his gaze barely allowing for a blink, making it abundantly clear who he desired: you. An intensifying blush crept on your features this time. Of course you knew your history with him, a caring gentleman who made sure to take care of the one he loved most. But this Coriolanus, objected something in you that you enjoyed seeing probably a little more. To be completely under his control. To bow to his command.
"And as much as I hate to admit..." Your voice took on a gentle tone, a stark contrast to the confidence you exuded in the public eye. Sensing his fingers trailing down your body, from your hips to your lips, he couldn't help but notice their softness, prepared to be pampered at his command. However, he had to restrain his temptations for a moment, feeling his teeth sink into the bottom of his lip. You continued. "I might have been a naughty bird, moaning your name during sleepless nights, hoping you'd come save me from my little cage. You have no idea how eagerly I waited for you to come back."
Honestly, Coriolanus found himself just as taken aback by your confession, despite the obvious history between the two of you. The mere thought of you in bed, adorned in barely anything, accentuating your beautiful form, fingers exploring sensually. The vivid image of you pleasuring yourself, uttering his name amidst a chorus of enticing sounds, drove him to instant madness. Tonight, he was determined to lavish you with everything he could muster—to claim you as his own, leaving marks on your body that not even the most skilled makeup artist could conceal come morning. Without explicitly professing love in the conventional sense, it was evident that Coriolanus and you were destined to be together. In times of need or distraction, both of you instinctively knew where to find solace in each other's presence.
"I want you, Coryo..." you pleaded, your fingers clutching his shirt, the skirt from today's performance riding up slightly. Upon arriving from work, you had removed your underwear just for him—his eyes alone to witness, taste, and appreciate. His hands gripped firmly on your arse, and it was his turn to shift positions, settling onto the couch with you atop him. Your blouse, with a revealing cleavage, owed its allure to Tigris, your stylist. You couldn't help but wonder if the same effect would have been achieved without her touch. Extricating yourself from his grasp, you observed his lips curling into a mischievous smirk. It was a smirk that served as a reminder, and in that instant, you knew that tonight, you were unequivocally his—his and his alone, his cherished little bird.
"I can't wait to finally show my little bird what I can do."
Coriolanus spoke those words with genuine anticipation. It was undeniably the most memorable night, and he intended to recreate it repeatedly. After all, you were his little bird—his to cherish, tourmate, and play with as he pleased.
#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#the huger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games x y/n#president snow x reader#hunger games x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus imagines#coriolanus snow imagines#hunger games imagines
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✯ FreshLove for the fit ✯
summary: a dive into how much Chris is obsessed with a certain onlyfans model.
Warnings: NSFW content, masturbation (m & f), sex toys, mentions of Onlyfans, Chris being pussy whipped even though he has not had a crumb of cooch.
✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯
chris is addicted.
To what?
A certain OnlyFans girl who goes by the name y/n.
He discovered her one day while scrolling through his second account on Twitter. He doesn't really use his main account but he still made a secret one to get away with whatever he wanted. It was a late night and since his brothers were finally asleep, he decided to put the second account to use and stroke his dick.
He had a stressful day and needed release.
Chris wasn't the type to just wrap his hand around his dick and just start stroking, No. He had to have something visual. He had to have a video, a picture, hell even an audio would do it for him. It wasn't just the sight or the audibility of the erotic material that turned him on, it was the way his mind morphed the media.
If a girl was receiving backshots from a guy, he imagined it was him. if a girl was getting her face fucked by a guy, he imagined it was him.
It was always him.
So when he found a specific page on Twitter, where the girl was wearing a white cropped FreshLove shirt, and ramming a pink dildo into her dripping pussy,
he went feral.
He never came so quick in his life.
The thick milky white string covered both his hand and his phone. His chest rising and falling quickly as his heart races.
He couldn't believe how hard his orgasm hit him.
Instead of cleaning himself up, and wiping his own cum off of his phone, he kept going. He scrolled endlessly through her account. Liking each and every single one of her posts as he stroked his sensitive member
Multiple videos of her playing with herself in different ways; dildos, vibrators, even a fucking machine made the appearance.
The thing that made him cum about four more times before he became a whimpering mess, was the fact in the majority of her posts, she's wearing FreshLove.
Using her baby pink rose toy on her sensitive clit? A blue FreshLove hoodie is right there riding up on her waist.
She's flashing her perky breast that is adorned by heart piercings through the nipples? A black FreshLove shirt is teasingly being lifted.
he didnt have to imagine anymore.
Eventually, he reached the end of her account, and he realized how much of a mess y/n made of him. His tip is an angry shade of red, still leaking. If he looked hard enough, he can see his dick pulsating. His pelvis is covered in his own cum, pooling at the base of his dick, and seeping down his waist and onto the navy sheets covering his bed.
He's in shock, he's never came this much,
and it's all because of a pretty girl wearing his brand.
Second post ✨ lowkey wanna make this into a fic but idk yet. if i did it would be like three(?) parts.
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo smut#smut#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris girl#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt girl
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doing the TikTok couple outfit trend with nerd!miguel
this just sent me to my early grave btw
cw: none! fluff with barely one instance of suggestive language. also maybe angst if you squint. gn!reader with a fem outfit!
wc: ~ 600
❤︎ a/n: this was so cute im :(((. if you haven’t see the trend nonnie was referencing, here is an example! proofread today yippee!! happy reading <3
*all pictures are just for scene setting! reader has no specific race, genitals, body type, or pronouns mentioned!*
put the timer on before you press play,” you laugh, watching miguel fiddle with your phone. as tech savvy as he is, you find it endearing that he can’t operate tiktok properly.
the two of you were on a park date, picnic basket in hand as the sun shines overcast, warming your skin, matching the warmth you’ve been feeling all day. after a rough week, miguel had offered to cheer you up, by way of picnic, and you agreed, albeit with reluctance.
it had been your idea to match, of course. the small unspoken ways you feel comfortable giving affection towards him without outwardly saying the three words that stir and uneasy feeling in you.
naturally for a picnic, you opted for gingham, red of course, sporting by way of a long sleeved off the shoulder crop top with lace trim, and a denim mini skirt to match. the shoes were less understated with the farmers look you had going on, your steve madden platform sandals bringing your more than necessary edge to your outfit. miguel, still hunched down finicking with your phone, matched with you, wearing a red gingham shirt, unbuttoned with a white tee underneath. his light-wash blue jeans sat well on his hips, held up by a black leather belt, the same color as the loafers on his feet.
you had seen an influx of videos of couples on vacations and regular outings matching outfits and chronicling it in form of tiktoks, and some part of you felt like it would make you feel all the more conflicted in your feelings, but the other part of you wanted to hold hands with miguel and show off your matching outfits to the world, and the former part of you won.
bringing you back to now, where miguel finally has managed to set up the timer for your tiktok, but not without muttering, “the user interface is stupid. anyone could have trouble with it.” you can only laugh, admiring his clean shaven face, pouted lips, strong nose and soft eyes as he looks at you and asks if he can press play yet. you fix his hair, looping the little piece in the front around your finger to fix the curl and look at him in the eyes, his face red.
“yes.”
-
“miguel, you cross your legs, and then clap. not the other way around. this is the second time!”
“that’s not what they did in the video i saw..”
“that’s because it’s not the one i sent you. i suggested this, so we’re doing it my way, not yours.”
after three takes of miguel either crossing his legs the wrong way or completely missing his cue, you were sure this take would be it.
so when he presses play and the timer goes off, you watch the minuscule versions him and you in your phones screen, and by some high power, you’re both in sync. and can help but laugh and exclaim your joy, pull him in for a kiss at his success. a kiss in which miguel gladly returns, lipstick marks be damned.
you look away shyly when you pull away. “knew you could do it,” you say, gaze lowered to the gold chain hanging from miguel’s thick neck.
“only cause i listened to you, my love,” he returns, bringing your gaze to his by pushing your head up with his index finger at your chin.
you give him a light pec before slapping his chest softly. “should have been listening to me the whole damn time. i’ve been too nice to you lately.”
“teach me a lesson later,” he says, the look of mischief in his eyes not unnoticed by you. “first, we eat. c’mom.”
with his hand in yours, you stroll through the park. together, and happy.
#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara drabble#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o’hara headcanon#miguel o’hara angst#miguel o’hara fluff#miguel atsv#atsv miguel#gn!reader x miguel o’hara#fem!reader x miguel o’hara#male!reader x miguel o’hara#you’ve got mail💌#<nerd!miguel3
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Pretty, Pretty Panties
Kinkmas Day 3: Lingerie/Stockings
Pairing: Lo’ak x Fem!Human!Reader
Warnings: AgedUp!Lo’ak, Grinding (cause I can’t think of a better word for this?), Size Difference
Word Count: 1.9K
A/N: I was trying to see if there was a specific word for this kind of sex act and Google decided to bring me hurtling back into the world of Urban Dictionary and y’all . . . Urban Dictionary is WILD
A/N 2: I have exactly zero other prompts prepped after this one so this is going to be exactly like Kinktober lmao
Summary: Lo’ak has always been intrigued by human items, but your panties may just be his favorite of them all.
Translations:
Tawtute - Human
Olo’eyktan - Clan Leader
Tewng - Loincloth
Yawne - Beloved
Lo’ak’s always been intrigued by human items.
It’s only natural - his father was a human, long before Eywa granted him a new life permanently in the body of his Avatar. He, himself, is undeniably part human. The hair on his brow bones and extra finger on both of his hands are features that can only ever come from one place, telling the story of his unique family lineage and the source of his low self-esteem during his teenage years.
He’s since grown out of the self-hatred his different traits brought upon him, learning to accept who he is and be proud of his differences despite where they come from. Besides, not all humans are bad. His grandmother had told them once that the humans that stayed behind on Pandora after the first war were all part Na’vi - not in looks, of course, but in soul. They are the ones who fought for peace, who heard the call of Eywa, even with their tiny, round tawtute ears, and earned their place amongst The People despite looking like the enemy.
His father was one of them, a long time ago, and he became Toruk Makto with his hairy eyebrows and extra fingered hands. It used to be suffocating, to be drowning under the shadow of such a successful man, always feeling like a disappointment, a failure, and never knowing if he was ever going to be half the man his father is. But things are different now. Lo’ak is older and wiser, and he can proudly say he feels honored to share in those similarities with such a great man.
Human DNA is in his veins, their technology now a staple in the Omatikaya Clan, introduced at the insistence of his father. Throat comms wrap around the necks of every hunter and warrior, tablets are used to help keep track and categorize supplies of both the clan’s reserves as well as the outpost’s inventory. Every warrior must go through vigorous gun training, learning how to handle the weapon, how to shoot and reload with military precision. The bad humans are gone now, with no sight of ever looking like they’re going to return, but the Olo’eyktan does not take chances, and he will not have his family run out of their home ever again.
Lo’ak knows it all, his long blue fingers fiddling with any piece of technology confidently. But it’s not just technology he’s interested in. He’s tried clothes before, stealing the largest t-shirt he could find from one of the science guys just to try it. It fit, but just barely, the material stretching across his lean shoulders a little too tightly and feeling way too constricting for his own taste, the bottom hem stopping about halfway down his torso. You laughed when you saw it, tears filling your eyes as you pointed at his midriff just barely able to gasp out the words ‘crop top’ through your full bodied laughter.
The shirt didn’t work for him, he was okay with that. He was curious, he tried, he learned - and that was that. He never really thought he would want to go around wearing tawtute clothing even if they would have fit him right.
You, on the other hand . . .
. . . well, those panties fit you perfectly.
It’s not like humans go out in their underwear, and Spider is the only human bold enough to regularly walk around in a tewng, so Lo’ak only finds out exactly what’s underneath those annoying layers of tawtute clothing when the two of you start fucking around. The chest covering, a ‘bra’ you called it, is completely unnecessary. There’s no need to cover up as much as humans do, and to hide such perfect tits in an uncomfortable wired cradle is a torture that he will never understand why someone would put themselves through, and, frankly, it’s a slight against Eywa to cover up such gifts.
The panties though? Yeah, they can stay. They look so much like a tewng, covering your most intimate parts like a privacy cover, only missing the front flap to make them identical in look. You have different ones - different colors, different textures, and different styles that show various levels of undress for your perfect ass.
Lo’ak loves them all, but currently, the one’s he’s fucking are his favorite.
It’s a tiny thing, like you, light pink with a cute little bow in the front, and the soft material feels like heaven on his cock as he glides through your wet folds.
You look so good underneath him, hair splayed out like a halo on your pillow as you gasp and whine every time the head of his cock slides over your clit, tiny hands fisting into the sheets for support as his own hands push your knees back against your chest to keep you spread open.
You’re still wearing your panties, and a part of him wants to growl in frustration and rip the delicate material from your body for not being able to have an unobscured visual of your puffy pussy. But you’re so wet, so so wet that the panties have all but become transparent with your slick, making them sticky and see through enough that he can see both the outline of your labia and his length as he rubs against you underneath it.
He shivers as he thrusts faster, the wetness of your arousal making the slip across your swollen clit all the more easy, and a growled moan escapes him as the wet sounds your pussy makes at the increased pace invade his ears. The tip of his cock is nudging against the wet fabric with each pass, the large bulge pushing the material away from your body with each thrust just from the sheer size of him. The underside of your panties is dragging against the length of his cock, working in unison with your silky pussy against the underside to tease him into insanity.
Your whines get louder, hips twisting in response to the never ending stimulation on the sensitive bundle of nerves, dripping hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. “Lo’ak, please,”
He hums at the sound of his name, his name, moaned in that beautiful voice of yours, eyes flicking up from the obscene view of where your bodies are meeting to your face. “Yes, yawne? What can I do for you?”
“P-please, fuck me,” You beg. Your legs are trembling in his hold, desperate to kick out and wrap around his hips to try and pull him in. “Please,”
“Hm,” He grins, sharp canines on display, glittering in the fluorescent lighting of your bedroom. “Does my pretty girl feel empty? Need some big Na’vi cock to fill you up?”
You nod, frantically, heat pooling in your cheeks as the coil in your belly tightens at the thought of his cock splitting you open. You want it so badly, want to feel his length push into you, want to experience it as it keeps pushing, filling you up more and more and feeling like it might never stop. You want to see that bulge currently working underneath the cover of your sticky panties in your stomach instead - want to watch it disappear as he pulls out only to reappear again when he thrusts back in, deeper and deeper as he fucks your cunt so good in a way you know only he ever could.
He wants that too, wants to feel what your gummy walls feel like wrapped around his cock. He knows the sight would just about kill him, to see your soaking hole stretch to its limits trying to take a cock that’s way too big for you. How suffocatingly tight you would feel, to finally be inside you (or at least as much inside as he can fit).
He can’t help it, he just wants to see what it looks like, and he stops the tortuous drag of his cock along your clit to slide down the length of your pussy. One of his hands let go of your thigh to pull your panties to the side, mouth watering at the sight of your soaked core and puffy clit now completely visible to his hungry gaze. His breathing is shaky when he presses the tip of his cock against your tight entrance, the head rubbing gently at the pulsing hole as you mewl underneath him.
“Lo,” You moan, back arching as you try to push your hips down further against him. “More,”
“More, huh?” Lo’ak groans, pressing just a little bit harder against you and watching as your entrance gives under the pressure, trying to stretch around him and welcome him in. “This slutty little pussy wants more? So greedy,”
Your wide eyes glisten with unshed tears, red rimmed and watery from the way he’s teasing you. He won’t push in, won’t give you anything more than the small presses of pressure against your sopping hole, just enough to get you to start to stretch around the tip only to snap back when the pressure releases. “Lo’ak, please!”
His fangs dig into his bottom lip, a soft growl echoing through the room as he steels himself to be strong. You’re not ready, he’s too big and he doesn’t want to hurt you. You gasp when he pushes against your entrance again, cock slipping against your wetness and running up your slit and across your clit roughly making you jump.
Lo’ak releases his hold on your panties, letting the soaked garment snap back in place over your cunt and his heated length.
“Can’t,” He grunts, once again beginning the agonizing stimulation of him sliding against your pussy. The soaked squelching sounds as his cock glides against your clit are obscene and wonderful, and your responding moans and whines sound even better as his ears flick to catch the sound. “Wanna fuck your pretty, pretty panties.”
Your hands latch onto Lo’ak’s wrists, nails digging into his skin as the coil in your belly tightens up more. The bite from your nails only intensifies the feeling, and Lo’ak can feel his own orgasm barreling towards him, and fuck, only you can make him feel like this without any penetration at all.
It’s all wet in your pretty panties, all wet and gooey, and your arousal soaks his cock so good as he rocks against your soft folds. The fabric of the panties are rubbing against the head of his cock with each thrust, the added sensation only adding to the intensity. And when you cum, back arched and whimpering his name as he slides against your clit over and over and over again, dripping hole clenching around nothing as your body shakes with pleasure, the sight sends him over the edge, too.
His orgasm hits him hard, ropes of pearly release painting your sensitive pussy and the inside of your pretty pink panties as he moans. Slowly, he pulls his cock out from underneath the fabric, letting the panties press back in place over your cunt with the sticky mess he left behind between you and the ruined material.
And you look so beautiful like that, so sexy as you lie there, panting and looking like you just got fucked within an inch of your life despite the fact that you didn’t even take his tip, let alone his entire cock. The pink panties are pretty, and you wear them so well.
But now he can’t help but wonder if you maybe have a pair in blue too.
**Special thanks to @neteyamsyawntu for the prompt!
Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @anastasia1777-blog @localjasmine @tsewtx @skywonder @neteyamswillow
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A redraw of the group photo from the Nether hopping arc! I wanted to get in more practice drawing the characters in this specific style, and also see if I can fix some issues with their designs that were bugging me. I... mostly succeeded on that 2nd part?
Some notes regarding these CG designs (plus some headcannons):
-Red's outfit frustrates me, because I like it a lot without colour, but once I start trying to add colour it always ends up looking off. The current colour scheme is fine, I guess, but I'm a little torn on whether or not the colours suit Red, and not making him too close to the other colour schemes present (which I like a lot more).
-Red's outfits will often have animal motifs designed into them. Usually cat, rabbit, or pig, but they have all sorts of animal clothes.
-Though it can't usually be seen due to not drawing them with their hood up often, Red's hoodie has cat ears. The reason I don't usually draw the hood up is because I like drawing his hair too much.
-Red will alternate between gloves, bracelets, and, post AVM season 3, a yellow headband and armbands.
-Under the hoodie Red will usually wear a tank top or crop top. Though it can't be seen in this photo, the arm holes for the hoodie are incredibly large, so Red's top can sometimes be seen when lifting her arms or looking at them from the side.
-In general, I do like Yellow's outfit. It suits her personality well and has some good colours. My primary concern is that it may be too... plain? Stereotypical? Basically, that it's too stereotypically 'nerd' to be interesting. But I can't come up with anything better, so this'll be her default outfit for now.
-What I do like on Yellow, however, is the hair. I think the short hair with a singular braid is really cool. A nice mix of neat and practical and stylish, especially mixed with the glasses.
-One issue I do have is with the boots. All the shoes in general, actually. They all look so samey, especially Blue and Yellow's boots. This is a pretty simplistic style I'm drawing in though, and I don't want to make anything too complicated. Why do shoes have to be so stupid?
-I used to have the same problem with Second's outfit as with Red's - particularly, with their shirt. However, that's when I realized that Second is an artist, and can change their shirt design at the drop of a hat. So, now the shirt has a different drawing on it regularly. Second will try to use all their friends colours in their designs. If they leave a person off, it usually means their either consciously or subconsciously upset with that stick. If they don't draw on their shirt at all and leave it blank, it usually means something's up with them.
-I also added leggings from the previous design. It felt right.
-Both Second and Chosen dislike shoes. I will not elaborate, but Second's tolerance is better than Chosen. He can handle it for short periods of time, but is usually grumpy and will kick them off first chance he gets.
-I like to imagine Second using her large, poofy hair to put things in, the same way she'd put things in their inventory. I also like to imagine Green is low-key horrified by this, while Red, Blue, and Yellow will also use her fluff to store things. Sometimes without Second even noticing.
-Second carries the belt with them in their hair in their inventory and will put it on before fighting/platforming so their oversized shirt doesn't get in their way. Otherwise they prefer to have their clothing loose and flowing.
-Everyone has a multicoloured accessory. Second was the one who started it with his bracelet, then the others wanted some too so Second drew up more for the gang. An anklet for Red, an armband for Yellow, a belt for Green, and a neckerchief for Blue.
-Green may just have the best outfit of everyone here. It's sleek, it's cool, it suits them, and it's easy to fight in (with an easily striped jacket if need be). I also added a lil choker.
-I don't think I expressed this before, but I didn't like Green's previous hairstyle. Something about it irked me, but I couldn't place what at the time. Now I know it'd needed more on top, haha.
-Blue's outfits tend to be more on the practical side, since they do a lot of manual labour, but with bits of fun and whimsy added in. After AvM Season 3, she trades her funny socks for long funny socks and fun stockings.
-The original intent was for everyone to have a different type of hair, but Blue's and Yellow's ended up a lot more similar than I'd hope. The idea was for Blue to have really thick hair, but it's hard to tell. Might think of something else later.
-Anyone who wants something different can go to Second and ask. They all have their own things they like, but they're all willing to try almost anything, with very little exception.
Feel free to let me know your thoughts. I think I really like these character designs I came up with. :)
Original pic used for reference:
#Animator vs Animator#AvA#AvM#Animaton vs Minecraft#Knightmare Art#Orange AVA#The Second Coming#Red AvA#Yellow AvA#Green AvA#Blue AvA#Character Design#Character Art#Redraw#Group photo!#I don't know if I've told anyone this but I love when characters carry reminders of their loved ones around#Pictures or gifts or matching accessories - It's my jam#Tokens of sentimentality my beloved
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Rookie!Vanessa X Guitarist!Reader. Noise complaint
Note: this is kinda experimental, also I don’t play the guitar so I did my best please don’t kill Me 😭😭
The strings of the guitar hummed as you tried to tune it. It was new, just bought yesterday, and it was getting to be a pain in your ass already.
“ Y/N come on, we can’t play our shit without you “
“ I’m trying Mathew, it’s not getting in the right key. Just start without me, I’ll get this fixed soon “
Mathew, the ‘ leader ‘ of your little ragtag band, groaned, clearing his throat as he signaled to start one of the songs. And as soon as he did, the drums started, followed by the acoustic, and the keyboard. You were stuck with your stupid new yellow bass guitar.
They had finished by the time you finally got I in the right tune, and it practically roar with sound.
“ hell yeah, alright guys, let’s run- “
Mathew started, before the whine of a police siren stopped him. You all let out a groan, looking down the driveway. It was the same older officer that would always show up at your practices, but this time he was followed by another, A taller blonde, a girl at that.
“ Mathew, You know why I’m here. “
“ Derek come on man. Tell Janett to get over it, we’ve gotta practice and Y/Ns the only one of us who has a garage. “
Derek, the officer, let out a heavy sigh, his hand on his waist as he went onto explain why he just can’t do that, and why we couldn’t be doing it after dark. Your eyes only focused on the new girl, whom was focusing intently on Derek and how he was handling the situation. You played a small note to catch her attention, it worked, and her blue eyes looked up at you. You chuckled, setting your guitar in the stand and trotting up to her.
“ hey,I’m Y/N. I’ve never seen you around here officer. “
“ I-it’s my first day patrolling with Officer Derek, I’m Vanessa. “
You smirked, cocking your hip out and adjusting your bracelets.
“ well officer, if you ever need to practice putting someone in cuffs, you just give me a call~ “
You teased, putting your wrists out in front of her. She blushed, glancing away and letting out an awkward laugh. Derek gave you a glance from the side of his thick glasses.
“ don’t flirt with my Rookie Y/N. Yall have till 7:30 to be packed and gone. Have a good night yall. “
Derek muttered, and headed back to the patrol car. You quickly dug in your pocket, pulling out one of your crumpled flyers.
“ Hey, Officer Vanessa. Here. “
You caught up to her, handing her the flyer. It was just a black paper with your bands logo and some information.
“ me and the guys are gonna be playing at a club later this week, if your off you should stop by.. sure you’d like it. “
“ thank you. I’ll keep it in mind “
Vanessa nodded, and got into the squad car, you watched her drive off and chuckled, walking back up to the band.
“ you tryna sleep with a cop now Y/N? “
“ shut it Mathew. I’m just being nice. Now, one more song for Janett? “
*~*
You combed through your hair, throwing it up into a tight ponytail. You had your guitar on standby, this was the biggest show you all had yet, you wore a cropped band shirt, your band specifically, a short black studded jacket, and a pair of tight ripped jeans.
“ we ready? “
Mathew asked, he was dressed much more punkly than any of you, but he was much more into than you all. You all gave a curt nod, and stood in your positions.
The curtain opened, and you were greeted by a roaring crowd. You nervously gripped your guitar, glancing through the crowd to see if Vanessa had shown up. Mathew started announcing the first song, and you quickly got yourself ready, before the bright blue eyes of Vanessa caught yours. She smiled softly, and you did aswell. You felt your whole body calm down, and the music practically played itself.
*~*
“ that was amazing, very proud of you all. Y/N, that bass is a beast, definitely worth it. Alright, meet up at the garage Sunday. Till then, my fallen angels “
“ call us that again and we’ll make sure your a risen angel idiot. “
You call at Mathew as he leaves, and you finish packing up your guitar, heading off the stage.
“ hey, Y/N. That was a wonderful show, I’m happy I came “
Vanessa stopped you, smiling again. You couldn’t help but chuckle, smiling back at her.
“ thank you, I’m surprised you made it. “
“ i was free, wanted something to do. “
You both walked towards the door, chatting about the atmosphere and how much of a dive this bar was.
“ I best get walking. Thank you again, I’m sure I’ll see more of you. “
“ your walking home? That’s a while away, let me drive you home, please, I insist.
“ I can’t make you do that. “
Vanessa took your hand, smiling even more softly and even more gentle than before.
“ please. You’re not making me, I want to. “
You flush, and nodded, letting her walk you out to her car. You sat passenger side, with your guitar case between your legs. She drove off, you admired the way she steered the wheel, you thought it was odd, but just the way her hands controlled the care made you feel something. The way she’d hook her fingers around it, or drive with one had ontop of the wheel, it made you feel fuzzy.
“ You got a girl at home waiting for ya? “
“ n-no. Just myself in that little old house. But it’s nice, I’m thinking of getting a cat. “
“ well..if you ever need someone to keep ya company. “
Vanessa handed you over one of her business cards. You chuckled again, putting it in your pocket.
You two eventually arrived at your house, you stepped out and nodded, walking up to your front door. You looked back at her for a moment, before walking back down.
“ you wanna..j-join me for dinner? I’ve got chicken in the crock pot…”
“ aww..I’d love to but I’ve got work to be done at my place. Give me a text later on though..I’ll make it up to ya~ “
You nodded, feeling a bit disappointed but understood. You said your thank you’s once again, and heading inside, gently closing the door.
After a few hours, you did decide to text her. She was a very open texter, not dry like your band mates were. Your stomached fluttered, finally working up the courage to ask what she meant earlier.
“ Hey, I don’t wanna be a pain. But, what did you mean earlier? When you said you’d made up for not joining me for dinner? “
“ Oh, I almost forgot! Give me one minute darling~ “
It was the first time she called you any sorta name beside your real name. Your heart raced as you waited for her response, your heart was so fast, in fact, that it practically stopped when she had sent you a few nudes. The way her skin looked so smooth, the way her tits were a perfect size. The last thing she texted you for the night was “ Enjoy <3 “.
And you couldn’t help but remember her driving the car, how she controlled that wheel as you slowly made your hand down your pants.
#vanessa shelly#five nights at freddy's#vanessa shelly x reader#suggestive#Rookie!Vanessa#Guitarist!Reader
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LISTEN. I KNOWWW that the polls haven't even started, but I'm impatient, ok, I'm just putting this out there now cause I can't take it..... anyways - I've seen people do powerpoints as a way to campaign for their blorbos in the various polls that have been going on, so!! I thought I'd do one of my own for the @autismswagsummit ^^ as I simply can't pass on any chance to be brainrotted over this series, it seems...
ID under cut, as it's very long!
[ID: a powerpoint presentation campaigning for Mob from Mob Psycho 100. It's formatted in dark purples and pinks.
The first slide is the titlecard, differing from the main slides by having a pink holographic aura, like the ones from the show, as the background. The text says:
"#MOBSWEEP 2023
Aka why you should vote for Mob in the upcoming autistic swag summit. Please
(JK follow your own heart ^^ but for your consideration:)"
The second slide is titled: "Who is Mob, aka Kageyama Shigeo?" and below the text lists:
"Source: Mob Psycho 100, which is also where Reigen comes from;
The protagonist! Only with background character syndrome (which is why he’s named ‘Mob’ – it’s kinda like naming your protag ‘John Doe’ lol);
A 14 year old with the psychic strength to destroy the world. Which he’s not very happy about actually;
Cause really, he’s just a nice, gentle boy who simply wants to improve and impress his crush by getting swole :) Oh, and he also experiences the horrors. Btw."
On the right of this text, there are two images: One is a zoomed in screenshot of Mob, his face blank and confused, and the other is an official art of the show, depicting Mob in the center, aura glowing, with many of the show's other characters around him, with the show's title at the bottom of the image.
The third slide's title is "Ok but tell me more about the autism", and below, the text says:
"Gladly ^^
Ok, first off – symptoms:
Bad at reading social cues, detecting sarcasm, lies, etc.;
Struggles with recognizing/expressing emotions. Has what could be called psychic meltdowns;
Very honest and blunt, sometimes appearing ‘ruthless’ as a result;
Explicitly low empathy, in that he can’t feel what others are feeling;
Actually very compassionate, and follows a really strict moral code;"
There are no images in this or the next slide.
The fourth slide is a continuation of the previous, with the text being:
"Abnormal reaction to sensations, but instead of overreacting, he underreacts, rarely responding to physical touch and disturbing imagery. Has shown to be at times sensitive to loud sounds, however;
Prefers following a routine. One of his biggest conflicts with Reigen literally arise from the man often calling him out of the blue and making him suddenly adapt, which Mob finds really annoying/upsetting;
Struggles in school. Explicitly bad at math, japanese and PE (really passionate about the latter tho), which could be for a variety of reasons, autism related conditions (like dyscalculia/dyslexia/dyspraxia) being one of them;
Has felt like an outcast for most of his life. Even if he grew up in a pretty loving environment, he recognizes that he is different to others, and people sometimes treat him as such (in a /neg way);
His main arc is about overcoming trauma and… just masking (and how to stop doing it), pretty much, lol."
The fifth slide, in contrast, is mostly just images, placed upon a white background. The title for this one is "Alternatively, just look at him:"
The images, from top to down, and then left to right, are:
Three cropped subtitles out of screenshots of the show, which say:
"I'm sure I just got the wrong idea again. How embarrassing."
"He's detached from urban legends, fads, and other hot topics among people."
"You just can't lie, can you?"
The fourth is a cropped screenshot of Mob's explosion meter. Both in Japanese and English. Specifically, it says: "Progress towards Mob's explosion: 92%". Additionally, there is an annotation above this image, saying: "Literally has a meltdown meter ksfdks"
In-between these and the next column of images, there is also a transparent image of Mob, him standing stiffly, faced towards the camera, his standard, blank expression with a small smile on his face.
The next column of images goes like this:
A screenshot from the show, done in paint on glass, of various kids towering over Mob, who's standing in the middle of the image, small. Their expressions wary, from sneering, to frowning, to looking disgusted. The subtitles at the bottom say, with one part blocked out due to spoilers: "[spoilers] didn't treat me any differently even though I could use psychic powers."
Next two are cropped dialogues as well. They say:
"This version of him was created from being suppressed and locked away."
"Social skills like that are beyond you."
And on the right of the slide is one vertical image, showing one of Mob's books, with the subtitles translating the Japanese title of the book as "The Proper Way of Reading the Room". Next to this one, there is also an annotation, saying: "He has a book on learning social cues :’)" That's all for this slide.
The sixth slide is titled "Is he good rep though?" Text below is:
"Well, to answer the first thing relevant to this question… no, he’s not actually confirmed canon autistic. But c’mon.. it’s so obvious. This kid is not fucking allistic like c’monnnn
Of course, what people consider good and bad rep is gonna vary from person to person. But to explain why a lot of people see him as very positive rep:
"1) He’s the main character, so he gets the most spotlight, and the narrative is formed around his pov, in that we only see things that are relevant to Mob, and visually things are often represented in the way Mob sees them as well (take the body improvement club or Tsubomi, for example), which puts all viewers soundly in his shoes and makes him easy to relate to and sympathize with, and makes it clear how important his emotions and view of things really are;"
On the right of this are 3 images against a white background. The first one is a screenshot of the Body Improvement Club - 5 very buff and large dudes - standing against an explosively red and yellow background, with all of them enthusiastically flexing. The caption below that is "The body improvement club! ...they're supposed to be middle schoolers lol".
The next two, below the first one, are two screenshots of Tsubomi. The one on the left has her smiling, her eyes wide and bright, the background being pastel pinks and yellows. The one on the right, however, has her frowning, the background turned black, her eyes dark and disinterested. The caption below says: "Tsubomi :) And how her design subtly changes alongside Mob’s view of her".
The seventh slide is a continuation of the previous, with the text being:
"2) He’s a very well rounded character, with well thought out strengths, flaws, motives, and his overall story is very cohesive and satisfying;
3) His autistic traits are portrayed neutrally – in both where they help, and where they can cause conflict. It balances between him learning what things he would benefit to address and deal with, and what things he shouldn’t be trying to change at all, and as the whole message of the show emphasizes – he is no more or less special than anyone, no more or less of a person – he is simply human, and his autistic traits are just part of what makes him himself."
This one has images next to it as well. The first one is a screenshot of Reigen looking towards the camera (at an off-screen Mob), hand to his chin, eyebrow raised and smiling, some food crumbs still stuck to his face, as he says: "Today you happened to save some people that only you could have saved." Next to it is the annotation: "Reigen reassuring Mob about how his inability to read the room and feel empathy actually can be a huge benefit sometimes :)"
The next image below is a zoom in of Mob's face, his eyes shadowed by his hair, the scene's lighting dark, as he says: "I'm not being mocked, nor am I easily taken advantage of." The annotation next to this one says "Mob learning to recognize his emotions and assert himself better as the story goes on!"
And the last two images is a screenshotted dialogue, saying "You don't think changing yourself for someone you love is natural?" "I don't. At least, not when we're talking about [spoilers]" (The last bit is blocked out again).
The eight slide is also a continuation. The text says:
"4) He is loved. Loved by his friends, his family, his allies… even most villains come to take a liking to him. In fact, he’s something I haven’t seen many autistic characters be – he’s admired! So many characters, and even viewers of the show I’ve found, really admire him and want to be more like him. And not because he’s a perfect person, or super smart or anything, but because he sincerely tries his best. And I just really appreciate that, personally,,
5) And more than just loved, he is accepted – the whole main arc and the resolution of his story centers around that, around how important it is to feel accepted by the people around you, in all your entirety, no matter how strange or destructive you may feel yourself to be. And how you need to come to accept yourself in the same way as well. I just think that’s a really sweet in a story centering around a neurodivergent person :’)"
And the images next to it are as follows:
A screenshot of dialogue from the show, saying: "At first glance, Mob may seem unreliable, but his strength is undeniable." The annotation clarifies with: "The ‘strength’ in question, in this case, being Mob’s ability to reach out to people ^^";
A screenshot of Teru placed against a blindingly white background, him grinning widely, looking down, eyes shining, as he says: "I knew it, you really are amazing!". Next to him, there is a small caption of "Lol gayass /pos";
And a screenshot of Mob, in the bottom center of the image, small, as he is surrounded by various characters. Most of them are smiling encouragingly, with the ones closest to him, like Reigen, Ritsu, Dimple, Teru and Tsubomi, being bigger and placed in the front. A small caption at the top says: "He has so many friends and allies ueueeueueue.."
The ninth slide is titled "Additionally:" and the text lists:
"Psychic powers as a metaphor for being nd/othered, if that suits your fancy;
His design is iconic and versatile;
The boy has. Issues;;
There are many other characters in mp100 who can be read as autistic. Not a single neurotypical in this show /hj
Mob has more than just autism swag. I’ve seen people with bipolar disorder, ADHD, anxiety and those who are plural (etc.) also relate to him :)
He is simply the Boy ever"
Next to the last line is a small, low quality image of Mob smiling from the manga. The rest of the images, on the right, are:
The meme "I can be your angle....or yuour devil", with images of Mob instead - on the left, him smiling brightly and blushing, placed upon a colorful magenta background, and on the right, a panel from the manga: Mob in one of his explosion states, surrounded by fire, face shadowed, hair pushed back by his powers and waving in the air, and his eyes, wide and eerie, being the only features on his face that are visible.
On the right of these images, there is a smaller one, of Mob in another one of his explosion states (the one from episode 3, season 1 of the anime). He is facing to the side, aura surrounding him, hair pushed back by his powers and his eyes a glower. His pupils are red.
Below these, there are three images of, in order, Serizawa, Tome and Ritsu. Serizawa is sweating, nervous, Tome is sweating even more and yelling into a phone, and Ritsu is simply glaring towards the camera. The annotation pointing to them says: "A few of the other autistic blorbos in question :] (as I personally see them at least)".
And the last is a panel from the manga, of Mob sobbing, tears and drool dripping messily down his face, his hair waving in the air. His expression is somewhat blank despite the clear distress, and the text boxes next to him read: "His tears won't stop. It's an emotion he has never experienced before."
And the tenth, final slide, is formatted the same as the titlecard with the pink aura background, and says:
"Thank you if you got this far <3
Have good days everyones, and remember, the true win for autism is the fun we had along the way :]
Buh bye!! ^_^"
Around this text, there are various images of Mob. Counter clockwise, starting at the left corner:
A low quality screenshot of Mob flying in the air;
Mob, in his puppy hoodie, sweating in distress as he points at a vase;
Mob caught mid smear frame, his leg kicked high in the air as he jumps, his school bag swinging to the side, his expression comically flustered.
A panel from the manga. Mob's eyes are shadowed, chopsticks held to his face, as he stares to the side and says "Tch... Shut up and eat.";
A Mob in an alleyway from the anime, smiling, pointing and looking up and to the left (the center of the slide);
A photo of a Mob plushie tucked into bed;
A low quality screenshot of Mob, standing against a wire fence, facing forwards, his eyes appearing a bit angry due to his hair cowering them.
End ID.]
#autismsummit2023#mob psycho 100#mp100#kageyama shigeo#autism swag summit#tumblr polls#autism#powerpoint presentation#I tried to keep this relatively spoiler free ^^ also feel free to ask me to elaborate on anything in this#trust me im ready to ramble whenever sjdfgsj (bearing in mind that im not busy at least)#though. tbh thats not That much of an excuse bearing in mind that i definitely did this in place of my real responsibilities 😳 oops#can you blame me though. its literally The Autism poll cmon#my own post#described#the id took like 3 hours to write.. ough. desperately hope theres not any mistakes in there
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Ok I wanna talk about Ethari's clothing/design over all. His clothes and tattoos are different from every other Moonshadow elf we've seen, and he's one of the few that doesn't wear braids. Like:
The recurring elements are intricate patterning; over layers and under layers; multiple colors in the same garment (or at least same outfit); wraparound construction, color contrast between mediums, lights, and darks; and the dominant color is always the medium, never the lightest or darkest color (usually navy, true black is very rare outside of the assassins). Even arc 2 Rayla follows most of these rules and she's been away from her culture for two years!
But then we have Ethari:
He doesn't have an outer layer, he wears almost solid navy, none of those clothes are wraparound, he has no light color, there's not a lot of contrast, and his dark color is true black despite not being an assassin. He bends all the rules, though he only breaks one completely. He still has that patterning, but it's minimal compared to the others. He has plenty of accent colors, more than anyone else actually, but they show up on him far less. He does have light, medium, and dark colors, but his whole pallet is darker than everyone else's. The only rule he 100% breaks is the wraparound construction
A lot of this probably derives from the fact that he's a metalsmith:
For the most part his clothes quite are practical;
Black/navy hides coal dust/soot very well. It gets everywhere, on your pants and face especially, and is highly visible on just about every other color.
Forging is hot work & you do it next to a fire that needs to be at least 1000° celsius, I never wear more than one layer either.
those sleeves, while a bit looser than I'd be comfortable with, probably aren't going to get in the way. Plus I heard somewhere that they're spelled to repel heat (couldn't find if that's actually canon tho), so if that's true they're much better than my gloves.
The crop top isn't great but he's got that belt to stop most embers. Besides he's probably not the type to yelp every time one lands on him like I am.
if he pulls the scarf over his mouth & nose it'll help delay him getting lung cancer in the death trap of a smithy Wonderstorm designed for him (my problems with it are a post all on their own. I have nothing against the artists, its pretty, but by all rights he should be dead)
There might also be a cultural aspect to his clothing:
I think the navy blue, the arm bands, the boot decorations, and his belt & tabard could all be symbols that mean "I am a metalsmith" in Moonshadow culture. (Quick side note, he's not technically a blacksmith. historically blacksmith means specifically iron workers. If anything he's a whitesmith since he usually works with silver.) We see it with the assassins, why not metalsmiths too?
Plus if you take a look at his forge in the art book, there's a design carved on it that looks almost exactly like the one on his tabard. Elements of it also appear on other parts of his clothing:
I suspect that this is some sort of symbol for metal working or fire protection. If he's in a guild it could be their symbol, or it could just be a wider cultural symbol. Either way it has a meaning that relates to the forge specifically. I couldn't find it anywhere else in the room.
I just realized that I never even brought up the metal hems on his sleeves. Then again what is there to say? It's metal, he's a metalsmith. It's pretty, he likes pretty things.
But what about the rule he completely breaks?
As I said, every moonshadow garment has some sort of wrap-and-secure construction to it-- except Ethari's clothes. I seriously doubt this is a metalsmith thing. Basic garment construction isn't a sensible way to differentiate your group within one culture. I fully believe Ethari is doing this on purpose. But why? That why gets even bigger when you realize that no other moonshadow elves we've met have brown eyes or periwinkle blue tattoos.
Put a pin in all that, I need to explain my interpretation of Moonshadow culture for this to make sense.
"Moon Primal creatures can be private and secretive, and are keenly aware of the power of appearances." - from the official website
"Moonshadow Elves obey a rather rigid, honor-driven culture." - from the wiki
To me this paints a picture of a fairly collectivist culture. They place a heavy emphasis on community and duty, two things that are usually more peaceful/simpler when you have cohesion within the group. Cohesion creates less conflict, less conflict makes your community more peaceful and your duty to it easier to complete.
But they know that this cohesion is- to an extent- only an act, so each person has a sub community where they don't have to act. Your inner self is for family and friends close enough to be family. (I honestly think they might have some sort of ritual to formally adopt friends as family) To everyone else you're supposed to put up a front that makes you seem more like everyone else.
OK back to the pin
Even without his clothes, Ethari is already visually different from everyone else. No other Moonshadow elves we've seen have tattoos or eyes the same color as his. It's a subtle difference but it is noticeable, and in a culture so focused on appearances people would notice. Most people's instinct would be to try to hide or downplay it, to prop up that front as much as they can. Yet Ethari doesn't put up a front, not to the extent that most people seem to. He's even accentuating his differences by dressing in a different style than them- and he's respected.
In my comm class the other day we were talking about groups, and one of the things that came up was that cohesion fosters sameness and diversity fosters innovation. Ethari is an innovator, it's literally his job. He invents the wingalings in bloodmoon huntress, Runaan and Rayla's weapons, and probably a bunch more stuff we haven't seen. Maybe for all they value appearances and fitting in, moonshadow culture still recognizes that people like him are important and they aren't as effective when they have to fit in. They can't be too out there (remember, Ethari only bends the rules rather than breaking them) but as long as they stay within a certain radius of the norm they can gain a lot of respect. I think this is what Ethari has done. The fact that his family (Runaan, Tiadrin, Lain) are all pretty traditional probably helped a lot. They keep him from pushing too hard on the edge of the box and he keeps them flexible.
That they aren't there anymore has probably exacerbated the rift between him and the rest of the silvegrove caused by Rayla's ghosting and whatever news has reached them from the storm spire.
I am so excited to see him in S6. I thought about adding some speculation about what his new design might look like, but I honestly don't think he'll have changed that drastically aside from his hair. My biggest question is honestly whether or not he's still in The Silvergrove.
Bonus:
I bet that some of Ethari's relative weirdness rubbed off on Rayla. She didn't have many friends as a kid so, when she wasn't in school or with the assassins, it makes sense that hung out with Ethari a lot. Since he's less strict than Runaan she was probably only comfortable completely unmasking with him. He heard about all her crushes, fears, and insecurities that Runaan didn't. Which goes a long way to explaining why Ethari was the only one who could see she wouldn't be a good assassin; she was hiding those traits from everyone but him.
This also explains some of why he was so willing to believe that she ran away. Ethari saw all of her vulnerability, but he didn't see all of her strength. While she was out training and facing her fears with Runaan, Ethari was in the smithy and only heard about their exploits after the fact. Neither of them saw all of who Rayla is, but both of them thought they did and had to find out that they were wrong in just about the most heartbreaking way imaginable.
#this started as me going “how actually practical are Ethari's clothes?” while I was forging that touchmark stamp#and spiraled out of control from there#also we're ignoring Redfeather because a) she was ghosted b) I didn't remember she existed when I started this#ethari#tdp#the dragon prince#tdp ethari#tdp meta#character analysis#rayla#tdp rayla
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Koutarou attends The Nutcracker for his sister, Kai, who's dancing as the Snow Queen.
This is her second year in the role, but he missed last time, so he’s so excited! He can’t wait to see his big sister dance!
And then he sees him.
In the role of the Snow King is a young prodigy named Akaashi Keiji. He’s a year younger than Koutarou, and his sister says Akaashi is “the best dance partner she’s ever had.”
Koutarou is immediately enamored. His eyes follow Akaashi wherever he goes on stage, despite Kai being the focal point of the routine. He’s lean, but obviously so strong, capable of lifting, throwing and catching his sister flawlessly. Effortlessly.
(Also, those tights look so good on him.)
Koutarou pretty much begs his sister to introduce them. “Please! I’ll do anything!” He cries as he unleashes the full force of his pout. “I don’t even care if he’s not available or interested in me! I just want to meet him!”
She finally relents after a week of his hassling. Koutarou attends the show again on closing night. He’s a bit nervous. The Nutcracker has been a huge hit, with critics and audiences alike praising the Snow Queen and King specifically. Akaashi’s name is on everyone’s lips; he's “the next big thing” in the Tokyo dance scene.
“Calm down, Kou,” Kai hisses as she leads him down the hall and towards the theater’s green room. “He’s just a person just like you. Trust me, it’ll be fine.”
Koutarou nods. Swallows. He holds his breath as they finally step into the room.
They find Akaashi casually leaning against the back wall, munching on an apple and swiping through his phone. Koutarou’s eyes roam his form. He’s wearing a cropped, midnight blue hoodie that cuts off at the hem of his black joggers, displaying his slim build. His feet are covered in a pair of beat-up sneakers.
“Keiji dear, do you have a moment?”
Akaashi looks up, and Koutarou sucks in a breath. The man has perhaps the prettiest eyes Koutarou has ever seen. A devastating mix of blue-green-grey, piercing, with heavy lids and long lashes.
Surprisingly, those eyes widen when as they land on Koutarou, and his mouth drops open. “Of course,” he nods, “um, hello.” His voice is like velvet, soft yet with a gravely texture that send a shiver through Koutarou. He also can’t help but notice that Akaashi is a few inches shorter, which forces the man to look up at him as they approach.
Oh my god, he's an actual angel.
Kai pulls her brother forward until the two men are a few paces apart. She squeezes his arm, a gesture she’s been using since they were kids to lend him comfort, encouragement. He leans appreciatively into the warm touch.
“It’s, um, it’s wonderful to finally meet you, Bokuto-san.”
Koutarou blinks, confused. Akaashi is addressing him as if he knows who he is. “Oh! Uh, it’s nice to meet you, too!” He grins sheepishly. “Did Kai tell you I was coming, or..?”
The man shakes his head. Now that they’re so close, Koutarou notices leftover sparkles and flecks of fake snow still clinging to Akaashi’s wavy black hair.
Enchanting.
“Well, I did know you were her brother… but I didn’t know you would be here tonight.” His eyes narrow at Kai, who chuckles.
“Keiji here is a big fan of volleyball,” she smirks at her brother, who nearly chokes at the new information. "He watched every single one your matches at the last Olympics. Apparently.”
“Really?!” Koutarou can’t believe his ears. Akaashi Keiji, the beautiful man who he’s been obsessing over the last few weeks, is a fan of him, too? It’s a bonafide Christmas miracle!
“Yes,” Akaashi’s lips twitch upward. It’s not quite a smile, but close. “I’ve, ah, been hoping Kai would introduce us someday.”
Koutarou beams. He can’t even be angry at his sister for keeping the secret. He’s just too happy right now. "I'm so glad she did!"
They end up at the closing night after party, sitting side by side in a booth, surrounded by family and friends. Conversation flows easily. Akaashi is rather quiet, but he seems content to just listen to Koutarou talk. He occasionally barks out a dry, sarcastic comment that only enamors Koutarou further.
He also smells nice. Like sandalwood and rose. Koutarou has to restrain himself from taking a big, long whiff.
“Y-you know, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, words slurring a bit from the whiskey shots he’d just downed. “I actually played a bit volleyball when I was younger.”
Koutarou gasps. “You did?!”
Akaashi giggles, then hiccups, and it’s the cutest thing Koutarou has ever heard. “I did,” Akaashi nods, “but only into middle school. Dance sort of took over my life after that. I’ve continued to follow the sport, though.”
Koutarou is having trouble containing his excitement. He grips his beer with one hand and reaches to grip Akaashi’s forearm lightly with the other. “You have to play with me someday!”
Akaashi snorts (wait, no, that is the cutest thing Koutarou has ever heard) and shakes his head. “I couldn’t possibly keep up with a pro player like you…”
“And I can’t keep up with your dancing,” Koutarou winks. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do that with you sometime. If you want, that is...”
For a brief moment, Akaashi just stares, and Koutarou wonders if he’s being too forward. But then Akaashi’s lips settle into a sweet smile, and he glances down into his drink. His sharp cheekbones bloom with color. “Are you asking me on a date, Bokuto-san?”
Well then. Koutarou hadn’t expected things to progress this quickly, but sometimes, fate has other plans. “I mean,” he clears his throat, “maybe..?”
Akaashi looks up, and Koutarou is suddenly drowning. He swears his sees an entire future in those stormy eyes, just waiting to pull him under.
(And Koutarou would go, gladly.)
“I would love to,” Akaashi says, leaning forward to clank their glasses together. “Merry Christmas, Bokuto-san.”
//
A short advert ft. The Nutcracker's snow scene 💙❄️
Thank you for reading this sappy little thing I wrote after working a week straight of Nutcracker performances (eight shows in one week; it was insane). If you enjoyed this, PLEASE reblog! It really helps me out, way more than just a like (though I appreciate those, too). You can also share my post on Twitter! Thanks everyone for your support this year. It’s been rough, for many reasons. I hope you all have a happy holiday season. Here’s to 2024! 🥰
#bokuaka#akaboku#akaashi keiji#bokuto koutarou#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu!!#fanfic#my writing#ficlet#drabble#HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE#the nutcracker#ballet
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Stripped
Yandere Shoto Todoroki x Reader
Warnings: Kidnapping, bondage, self harm, drugging, isolation, Stockholm Syndrome, blood, suicidal threats
Checkout my Master List here.
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Shoto takes everything from you, strips you of your life completely. He takes you away from your family, friends, hobbies, odd jobs just to afford rent and groceries, and mosh pits.
When the two tone haired man brings you to your “new home”, you aren’t the least bit grateful like he expects you to be. He wants you to live lavishly instead of in the run down area right next to the projects. It just isn’t safe for you. He can’t let you live like that anymore.
You want to throw up at the sight of your new room. It’s frilly and pink. There was no paint chipping off crusty walls. There was no stain right next to the door. There was no mattress that you bought for fifteen dollars with a funky cigarette smell. You missed all of these things about your old room because it was yours. You had gotten every last thing down to the barely working lamp beside your bed with a giant crack down the middle.
This is an actual nightmare, you think as your stomach churns.
You turn around to look at him with disgust plainly written on your face. Shoto takes you by your wrist and leads you to a tall and white wardrobe. Opening it, you see dresses, skirts, crop tops, sweaters, and babydoll nighties all in specific colors of blue, pink, purple, and white.
Your last bit of freedom in the form of the clothes on your body is completely taken away as he takes out a blue crop top and pink skirt for you to wear.
Black is your favorite color. Always has been, always will be. You tend to dress more punk. Misfits or Blood for Blood shirts and black jeans or baggy cargo pants with combat boots.
What he’s doing is seriously pissing you off. You can barely contain your rage as your nails dig into the palms of your clenched hands.
You know he’s stronger than you. He’s already proved it because you’re here.
He doesn’t leave as you change. He stands there, watching you with his arms crossed as he leans against the doorjamb, blocking your only exit.
You take off your shirt before removing your dirty sports bra that you haven’t been able to wash for a while due to not being able to afford laundry detergent. You clutch your bare chest, feeling utterly exposed.
You catch the corner of his lip pulling upwards, and you want to slap the smirk off of his face.
“Can’t you at least turn around?” You query. You want to tack on an insult, but you know he probably won’t oblige your request if you do. Politeness it is then.
He huffs a sigh. “No, you’re my girl. If I want to look at you, I will. Now, get out of those boy clothes and finish getting dressed.”
You scoff at his audacity. How dare he?
You try to turn around so that your bare tits aren’t facing him as you undo your black jeans, but he tsks at you.
“Face me. I want to see you. Every inch of you.”
With no choice, your pants fall to the floor, black boxer briefs following shortly after. You stand there with one hand clutching your sex and your forearm across your breasts. You lower your gaze to the floor, unwilling to look at him as he nears you.
Hands grasp both of your wrists and bring them down to your sides. Shoto inspects you before softly kissing your neck. Your eyes widen at his gentleness, but you don’t return the affection.
Shoto takes you by the hand to the bathroom so that he can bathe you in expensive shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. You come out smelling like flowers and peaches, and it makes you want to vomit. You don’t know where he obtained the skill, but he braids your H/C hair and removes the rest of your smudged makeup with a cleansing balm he got for you.
The mother fucker dresses you up like a little doll. That’s how you feel. Your black eyeshadow and mascara are gone. Your black clothes are gone. The clothes he picked out for you earlier adorn your body, and the urge to strike him becomes even more fierce.
Red and white hair shifts upon noticing you harming your palms. He opens your hand and sees that you’ve drawn blood. He tuts in disappointment and places his knuckle under your chin so you look up at him.
“Good girls don’t hurt themselves. You need to be a good girl for me and not do this anymore.”
Tears well up in your eyes as you glare at him. He’s so patronizing that it hurts your chest.
Shoto clips your nails in silence before washing your palms and cleaning them. He wraps white gauze around them and kisses your knuckles when he’s done.
There’s this nasty feeling inside of you that’s festering with every passing moment. It creates uneasiness and chaos to swirl within, like a raging beast looking for camouflaged prey.
——
You cling to the hope that someone will one day save you. A hero, a sidekick, a random salesman knocking on the door. Anyone. Hell, you’d listen to the ramblings of a Jehovah’s Witness if it meant saving you from this shit hole.
You try to ask Shoto for some privileges, like spending an hour by yourself once a day or going outside for fifteen minutes. He doesn’t oblige the first one, and he only lets you go outside if he’s there with you. What you want is time away from him, but you only get that when he’s working, and you have to spend that time chained to a fucking pink bed.
After countless arguments with him about needing some kind of freedom, you get so sick of it all that you end up punching a mirror and threatening to slit your wrists with the shards.
Blood covers your knuckles, but you can’t feel them with the amount of adrenaline coursing through you. Just then, a freezing pain bites at the skin of your hands before sinking deeply into your muscles. The ice stops at your finger tips. He plucks the shards from your hands and melts the ice with his other quirk.
You cry out in fury as he forces you into a fairly large closet. There’s only a blanket on the floor and a lightbulb.
“I didn’t think I’d have to use this room so soon, but since you want to act ungrateful, you’ll be punished for it.” He closes the door harshly, causing you to flinch. You hear him lock the door and walk away.
——
You have no idea how much time has passed being locked in here. There are no windows, no clocks. Just you and your endless imagination. After some time, being alone with your thoughts start to bore you, and that boredom starts to cascade into the beginnings of insanity.
Shoto visits you once a day to give you a vitamin, eggs and toast, and a glass of water. That’s your only meal for the entire day.
You think you start feeling dizzy from being underfed, but you don’t realize that it’s because he’s drugging you. He doesn’t want you pounding on the door, begging to be released. He wants you to stew in the uncomfortably warm closet. He wants you to sweat in the stuffiness and become grateful for everything he’s given you.
After thirty-eight days of keeping you like this, he notices a drastic change. When Shoto opens the door, he sees you completely zoned out, muttering to yourself about how you don’t want him to throw you away in the trash.
“Don’t wanna be bad…don’t wanna be thrown away…no trash puppy.”
He could laugh at your silliness. Trash puppy? You’re no trash puppy to him! You’re his love, forever and ever.
Shoto kneels down in front of you and makes you look at him. “Y/N, baby, I want you to understand that this is for your own good.”
You nod. “Own good.” You reach up to grab his face. “Miss you. Need you.” Your weak arms can’t stay up for too long. They fall limply to your sides, and you whine a bit for his touch. “Sho…please.”
——
Knowing you’ve had enough, he bathes you, dresses you, and feeds you a proper meal that isn’t drugged.
Now, whenever he tries to leave for work, you run to him. You throw your arms around him and beg him not to leave.
“I promise, I’ll be back. Sweetie, don’t cry. You’re going to get sick. You’re such a good girl. I love you.” He whispers these sweet words into your ear as he hugs you tightly.
“I love you too, Sho.”
When he’s not around, you pace the house, waiting for him to come back, filled to the brim with anxiety. You miss his small smile, the way he holds you, the way he picks out your clothes. You think of all the things you’re going to talk to him about, all the things you’re going to do with him when he gets home.
And he’s stripped you of the very last thing you have, your own mind.
#my hero acedamia#yandere#yandere shoto todoroki#shoto todoroki#mha shoto todoroki#shoto todoroki x reader#shoto todoroki x you#yandere shoto x reader#triggering content
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✧⋆⋄✧⋄⋆✧Busted and Blue✧⋆⋄✧⋄⋆✧
⋄Rating: Mature(+18), MDNI, NSFT
⋄Pairing: Leon Kennedy/GN!Reader
⋄Wordcount: 2.1k
⋄Synopsis: Under the cover of night, Leon's in your bed. He's tied up and a mess, eager for you to make him busted and blue...
⋄Tags: GN! Sex, BDSM, Cock and Ball Torture (cock hitting and btiting), light Praise Kink, Shibari, Gags, Riding Crops, Dominant and Submissive dynamics, light Sadism and Masochism, Unprotected Sex, general fuckery tbh.
⋄A/N: This is my first post, and not beta read lol. I rarely ever post my fanfic, but there might be more in the future occasionally. This wasn't written with any particular Leon in mind, so feel free to fantasize as you please. Also, please make sure to read the tags/read at your own discretion, because if I receive any hate mail, I might evaporate. I hope you all enjoy!
Nighttime.
It’s so beautiful, and you’ve always thought that.
The vast expanse of deep blue, littered with the tiniest pockmarks of silver stars. The glittering, heavenly fabric hanging in the sky, beckoning for you to reach out your fingers, learn its deepest secrets.
And the people. The kinds of people the night attracts. They’re certainly something else.
You would easily consider yourself one of those people. As you gaze out the windows of your luxurious apartment, the floor to ceiling panes of glass reveal every beautiful detail. The winking lights of city skyscrapers, glimmer of people dolled up for a night out, all reminds you of the stars against the night sky. It’s beautiful, and a small part of you longs to abandon your current company, leave your apartment, and join the late night excitement of the city.
Though, the high rise view and promises of nighttime adventures aren’t nearly as beautiful as him.
Leon
He’s on your bed right now, silky black sheets a stark contrast to his skin, and the deep red restraints he wears. The tantalizing crossing of red rope over every curve and inch of his musculature makes you quickly dismiss any idea of leaving him. Not when he’s like this.
This certainly isn’t an unusual predicament for you or Leon to find yourselves in, given your proclivity for your specific tastes, as well as Leon’s need for his. Though, you’re no stranger to dishing out this kind of attention, it certainly did surprise you when Leon asked you to do this. In fact, when the words had left his lips, you nearly had to double take, not entirely sure that it was Leon sitting before you. In the majority of the time you two had spent together, he had a habit of being a little shit. An attractive little shit, but a little shit nonetheless. He was always eager to tease you, smug and sultry at the same time, rattling off little quips and taunts, regardless of whether or not he was fucking you or eating you out. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t downright excited for the opportunity to both simultaneously dote on and punish Leon.
Now, here you are, standing stark naked as his eyes trail hotly over your body, the need to reach out and touch you reflected in his gaze.
Soft hums of irritation leave him as your eyes rake over his body slowly, though the ball gag in his mouth muffles them substantially. However, his hard cock twitches and kicks, telling you everything you need to know. As exasperated as he is at your lack of attention to his cock, he likes it as well. You let out a soft, sultry laugh at his reactions to the little waiting game you’ve been playing, earning another little indignant huff from him.
Maybe you’ll play with your food a little longer.
Slinking, you move closer to the bed, and rummage around in the nightstand. Having held off on giving him attention for a while, you can practically feel the intensity of Leon’s eyes burning into you, anticipations running high as you find what you’re looking for.
Out from the expanse of your nightstand drawer comes a long, thin, black stick. One end has a cushioned handle and wrist strap, while the other has a thick, folded piece of leather sewn to it. Perfect for what you want, given Leon lets out another noise, a grunt of anticipation of what’s to come. Your eyes are on him, gaze all heavy and saccharine as you get onto the bed, crawling languidly up his body to reach behind his head and undo the ball gag in his mouth, a string of spit following along.
“Took you long enough..” Leon grumbles, panting a little and stretching his jaw to soothe the ache from the ball gag, as you scoot back on the bed to get a better view of him.
In a flash, you bring the riding crop down on his balls, causing the skin to tighten. Precum beads at the tip of his cock, which kicks and jerks at the spark of pain. Leon groans, a choked sound that bleeds into a whimper, and he arches off the bed for a moment.
“God, fuck sweetheart. You’re killin’ me here…” He whines softly, hips twitching from the aftershocks.
“Well, you know better than to complain.” You murmur, a smirk settling on your lips, your hands reaching up to smooth some hair out of his eyes.
Leon notices you admiring the pretty shade of blue his eyes are, taking advantage of your distraction to turn his head to the side and playfully nip at your fingers. A soft grunt follows as he pines for your attention, feeling needy beyond all belief-
THWIP
“Hng! G-God you-!” Leon chokes out, not getting to finish his sentence as another sinful whimper of pain leaves him as you bring the riding crop down yet again on his balls, giving them a couple of hits in quick succession. His head is tossed back, lip worried between his teeth, the flush on his cheeks spreading to the tips of his ears and down his neck. Complaint after complaint can leave his lips, but you know it’s all just an act, that he’s just being bratty for the fun of it.
Deciding to tease him some more, you feather the riding crop all over his cock, finding it hard not to when he reacts so deliciously to it. Leon’s cock twitches and thighs quiver when you tease the crop over his tender balls, tracing veins on the underside of his shaft, and bring it up to just tease the edge of the head.
Ever the glutton for punishment, he bucks his hips, trying to grind his cock against the riding crop for some relief while he chokes out ‘let me just-’
THWIP
Once more, you bring the riding crop down - hard - this time on the tip of his cock. Leon moans and grunts, body tensing at the mix of pain and pleasure, especially when you start to grind the riding crop against the head and slit. Precum smears obscenely, and a string forms when you finally pull the riding crop away, making him shudder and whine.
“How cute…” You tease, only a hint of meanness in your words.
You give him one more hard smack to the tip of his cock, making Leon suck in a sharp breath of air through his clenched teeth, before teasing it up and away from his cock. You drag the leather of the riding crop sensually through the hairs of his happy trail, across his abs as well, taking delight in the way his muscles ripple and skin contracts at the sensation.
Feeling yourself growing more and more aroused, you’ve decided you’ve had enough, ready to satiate the ache between your legs. Tossing the riding crop somewhere to the ground off the side of the bed, you crawl back up his body, far enough that your mouth is close to his cock. He twitches once more, eyes alight with a needy anticipation now.
Mischief gleaming in your eyes, you lower your mouth, giving his tip small kitten licks. Leon groans softly at your ministrations, especially when you take your time to press the tip of your tongue into his slit.
“F-Fuck. That’s so–” He murmurs, biting his lip, muscles straining against the rope as he fights off the urge to buck up into your mouth. Leon knows he’s close to getting the touch he so desperately needs, so he’s certainly more eager to play nice now.
Knowing you have him right where you want him, you scrape your teeth across his tip, biting down softly. You’re exerting enough pressure that Leon makes a funny little noise, bordering on a squeal almost as a mix of light fear and heavy arousal floods through him.
Growing a little impatient yourself, you give a couple of teasing nips to his shaft and balls, Leon letting out the prettiest little gasps all the wild. He’s always been pretty vocal, but the noises he’s making tonight are downright sinful and have you feeling hot and bothered.
Finally, you move up, settling yourself on top of him. Sat just below his cock, you start eyeing him a little, making him let out a low rumble.
“Finally ready, now?” Leon teases, the beginning of a smug smile forming on his face. Grabbing the ball gag, you dangle it teasingly above his face.
“Don’t make me put this back on you…” You threaten, not entirely planning on following through, given you love hearing all the little noises Leon makes. He looks a little irritated, but ultimately doesn’t respond.
“Good boy…” You tease, a wicked grin on your face as you rise up, starting to stroke Leon’s cock, slow and teasing like everything else you’ve done this evening.
He’s not quite ready to give in and beg yet, lips clamped shut as he breathes sharply through his nose, brow knitting as you languidly jerk him off. Humming softly as more precum beads from the tip, slicking your hand up as you pump him, you pick up the pace a little and squeeze ever so lightly. A little pant and a low groan leave Leon as you pick up the pace even more, before you slow down again, making him toss his head back in frustration especially when you squeeze his shaft again.
“Please! Fuck I– I’ve been so good, haven’t I-” Leon whimpers, and grits his teeth as you shift to hover right above his cock, cutting him off by teasingly rubbing him against your entrance.
“Oh fuck…guess I kept you and me waiting long enough, hm?” You murmur sultrily, moaning out when you start to sink down on Leon's cock, getting stretched out as you take him, inch by inch.
“H-Hah! Just like that– shit–” Leon chokes out, already entirely too sensitive from the teasing he’s been through. He’s kicking and twitching inside you, filling you up and just grazing the most sensitive parts as you bottom out.
You stay seated for a moment, taking a moment to get used to the feel of him inside you. It didn’t register just how needy you had been as well, too swept up in toying with the man beneath you. Silence stretches between you for a beat, as you both pant softly, before it’s broken by the minute sound of skin on skin as you begin to ride him. Setting a tantalizingly slow pace, you raise up, only to drop down, both of you moaning out now in sync as you begin to lose yourself in the pleasure.
“Mhm, s-so good for me, taking what I give you…” You rasp out, starting to pick up the pace a little, pleasure coiling low in your gut. Leon’s feeling it as well, telltale in the way he’s trembling slightly, fighting off the urge to fuck up into your wet heat with reckless abandon.
“Shit, g’nna make me come early if you keep talking like that…” He whines, looking already like a fucked out mess, a flush settled on his cheeks and his pretty blue eyes clouded over with need.
Unable to muster up a response, you’re too lost in the drag of his cock against your insides, especially when you grind down particularly hard. The tip of his cock hits just right, pressing up against that sensitive spot, where you find yourself rapidly losing restraint.
The clapping of skin fills the room, the smell of sweat as well as you pick up the pace. Leon’s all too happy when you lean down, sloppily kissing him, soft lips messy and needy against your own. His cock throbs when you start to kiss along his jawline, nipping and biting your way to his neck to leave a smattering of love bites.
“God, m’so close, please.” Leon gasps, panting loudly now, strained noises leaving him as his stomach tenses, not far behind you for release.
“Yes, God, did so well. Go ahead and come in me.” You whine, walls fluttering around him as your own orgasm starts to creep up on you.
“Please!” Leon grunts, the sound so unabashed and needy, it sends a bolt of arousal down your spine.
With a cry of your own, you clench down hard around Leon, walls fluttering as they practically milk Leon. Leon comes with a rumble, grunting and gasping as he spills inside you, hot and sticky. You bounce a few more times, drawing out both of your orgasms, before you settle on his lap, basking in the afterglow.
It doesn’t take you long to relax, fully slipping off of Leon with a hiss, undoing the rope tying him up. Once freed, he stretches out on the bed, rolling over to face you. There’s a mixture of mischief and heat in his eyes, a coy smile playing on his lips as he scoots closer to you. His hot breath washes over your face, and a lone hand ghosts up and down your side teasingly, featherlight and sensual.
“So, your turn next?”
⋄✧⋄
#fanfic#smut#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon s kennedy#resident evil#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy fanfiction#nsft#keep reading#read more#x-alted fics
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I just love your Mob turtles and their headcanons! I was wondering how each turtle would act with a medic crush. Maybe someone that works for the Mob as a lower leveled nurse that catches their eye after they need to be treated by them. How would they meet again? Who would move their crushes position up in the Mob to get closer? And who would just bash their head in again to see their crush to get treated? Love the headcanons your write and keep up the amazing work! ✨
This is really interesting, thank you for this!
DISCLAIMER!!! Because they're all evil pieces of shit, this will not be cute. it's gonna be scary and abusive (esp Donnie's one) so viewer discretion is advised
Mob! Leo
you first treat him for a stab wound, it was a bad night at one of his clubs. Some guy got too handsy with one of the dancers, Leo intervened, the guy smashed a bottle....
he got stabbed just beneath the ribs, although the other guy was put in a medically induced coma when Leo was done with him sooo... A small stab was nothing by comparison
He's sat, slumped down, in the doorway of the living room, enter: you
his body guards (as useless as they normally are) called you straight away. the pay is pretty damn good if you say so yourself, being on the mob boys retainer has its perks.
you're got your kit with you, all your medical supplies.
"sir" you start "We need to head to the kitchen, I need a flat surface to examine you" you were polite, but clear.
Leo stands without so much as a grunt even though it's got to hurt
lies down on the kitchen table
you talk him through every step you need to take, starting with "I'm going to need to cut the shirt off, I'm sorry"
he doesn't care, it's ruined anyway
when you're done, he's surprised "I didn't even feel the stitches"
"I have a gentle touch" you wink and then instantly regret winking at your boss, it shows because you're blushing
he smiles too. 'He's got such a handsome face' you think and then you can't make eye contact
you almost shove the painkillers at him in your efforts to leave
the next time there's an incident, it's your day off, but he asked for you specifically and you can't exactly say no...
after that, it's you every time and the "incidents" are getting more frequent and less severe
you're at the house almost every 2 days
it gets to the point where a band-aid would suffice for the injury
but he's started sending you home with gifts, now
fancy chocolates, a bottle of wine, gift cards to high end shops ect
it's getting obvious why it's always you he calls
until, one night, it all comes to a head
he accidentally sliced his finger cooking and it will need stitches, but there are 2 place settings at the table and he asks you to stay for dinner after you patch him up
a hour in, and a little wine drunk, you blurt out "You know you could've just asked me out, there was no need to maim yourself to get my attention" you instantly regret this
he just chuckles
"Wish you'd told me sooner, I was deciding which one of my fingers I needed the least"
Mob! Raph
Oh he's so accident prone
will never admit it, but he really is
you're one of his newest hires and were excited at the chance to get some hands on experience since leaving med school
boy does he give you some
his first call is because he was shot right in the thigh
it almost hit a major artery
even you were panicked
you kept asking "is this ok? It doesn't hurt too much right?"
but he had to to keep face and even when he'd wince he'd command "Keep going!"
you weren't exactly dressed for the occasion, you were wearing what was once a baby blue crop top (now red) and and shorts and your mid-drift was showing
Raph seemed to notice this a lot
and when the bleeding had stopped you'd got him stitched up, he put an arm around your waist and told you how great of a job you did
it got you a little flustered
eventually, at some team meeting (you did not know there would be team meetings and neither did the other medics but Raph treated this like it's always happened) he announces you as head medic
this comes with more pay, but more responsibility
you're on call 24/7 basically
you get his personal phone number and a "don't be araif to call if you need anything, the phone works both ways"
this kind of earns you the cold shoulder from Donatello who was usually the one who fixed up Raph
everything was going great as was pretty professional until-
one night the phone rings, it's Raph, and he's clearly drunk
words slurring, talking real slow and basically humming down the line
he asks you to come over and if you "have a nurses outfit"
you ask who's hurt
"It's me, I'm so *fake cough* ill... I could use a little TLC..."
you're a medic, not a call girl so you hang up
the next time you see him he's a weird mix or embarrassed and pissed off
like he knows he shouldn't have done it but he's angry you wouldn't fuck him
it's one of his guys who's been beat up, needs a few eyebrow stitches
Raph is too close, really in your personal space as you're trying to work
when you're done he walks you to the door and, through gritted teeth, says "I'm glad my little.... Indiscretion the other night hasn't made you unprofessional"
"That's a weird way of saying sorry" you reply in the sweetest tone you can muster
he glares
"...I'm....I'm sorry"
you smile until he pulls you in by the wrist
"Don't get cocky now!" he hisses "Remember who pays your bills"
you lean in and whisper "It's funny that you asked, because I do have a nurse outfit. Only men who respect me and my boundaries get to see it" you say that last part more forcefully as you pull away from his grip
after that it's a pretty clear game of cat and mouse between you two
Mob! Mikey
It's been crystal clear since day 1 that he wants you
stroking your hair while you're trying to assess him, rubbing up close to you, giving you pay rise after pay rise...
you try not to be alone with him
but one day, and you're surprised because it's only like 1pm, you get a call
Mikey had a chunk bitten out of his neck and needs urgent attention
you're pretty used to all the weird and wonderful injuries he acquires and when you're done seeing to him, you realise it's now only you two in the room
he gets up and clicks his neck
"That's one thing I love about you, you know" he had a habit of starting sentences like you'd been talking this entire time even when you hadn't "You don't ask questions. It's a lovely quality in a girl" the space between you is getting smaller
"it's not my job to ask questions" you say timidly
he's closing in still "I like that attitude"
your back is to a set of drawers now
he's right in front of you
I think the lidocaine is wearing off, this is starting to hurt" he gestures at his neck "Can you kiss it better?"
your heart is racing and you're not sure if it's because this is threatening or because he's shirtless and you haven't taken you eyes off his abs for too long now
He laughs and puts his hands up
"Hey, just joking!" he begins to back away
you turn to leave and right as you grab the door handle he calls
"But, sweetheart, you ever feel like having a crazy night. You know who to call, no strings attached" and winks
after that, and extra 2k is put in your account under the reference "for your discretion"
lingerie is sent to your apartment as well as flowers
the next time you need to go see him, he asks if you're wearing it
you blush and look away, he just grins at you
eventually he throws a huge party that you're invited to, he never leaves your side
you drink a little too much to cope with the circumstance and before you know it you wake up from a black out in the back of his car just as it pulls up to your apartment
he walks you in, you're still unsteady on your feet, and kisses you at the door
"angel, you should be more careful" he does not elaborate before leaving
you hand in your notice which is only mailed back to you with "nice try" written on it
Mikey always gets his way, one way or another
Mob! Donnie
He's a very hot and cold man
he'll smile and talk to you one day, then you don't exist the next
you can't get a feel for him at all
he's never been inappropriate or rude just... cold and distant
it's normally you he calls, you know this because the other medics are pissed off that they don't have an "in" with him
you did ask why, once
he just said you give the neatest stitches
it had been a while since you'd seen him
his brothers and he just had a big court case so they were laying pretty low
it had been nice, something about him made you feel things
a mix of unsettled and like you had to prove yourself as worthy
you needed a drink
hat night you come home, your phone died at the bar and you're a little tipsy
only to find your door broken in
you walk in
was that a wise move? no.
waiting inside, leaning against a doorway, is Donnie
you can smell blood but can;t see it in the half light
the he grabs you
you freeze, his arms are around you and his face is in your hair, gently smelling it
something trickles onto your face and you wipe it away to find it's blood
"If- if you're hurt... J-just let me grab my supplies"
he lets go
you turn on every light you pass, something about being in the dark with him just isn't right
when you come back he's gone
the next time he needs you, you do get a call
he got into a fight with Mikey, bottled straight over the head
you found out because Raph is still laughing about it when you get there
Donnie is seething
when his brothers leave, all of them including Donnie a little drunk, he pushes you against a wall and gets in close
you can feel his breath on your neck
"You know, Mikey hired on of those topless maids last week. Cleaned his car, tits fully out. How much would it cost me for you to take this off" he pings your bra strap
you're so insulted
he was a man of medicine too and he was treating you like you're something who can be bought
as if he reads your mind he says "Everyone has a price"
"I don't know" you try to sound less scared than you are, let the anger shine through "how much does a new set of balls cost? Because if you don't back off you're gonna need them"
he laughs harshly
then his hand is around your throat
"Was that a threat?"
his thumb strokes your cheek
he leans in, his nose pressed against yours "I like a woman with guts but, if you're not very careful, I'll take them out and keep them in a jar"
"Was that a threat?" you retort
"No, I'm flirting with you"
sooner or later, you know he'll have you
Him and his brothers aren't the type to back down from anything
so the next time you treat him, when he pulls you onto his lap, you kiss him, make it your choice to go through with it
#the mob! boys#the mob boys#mob! boys#mob boys#mob! au#mob au#mob! donnie#mob donnie#mob! mikey#mob mikey#mob! leo#mob leo#mob! raph#mob raph#medic#medic crush#mob! x reader#mob x reader
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A New Look?
Alternative title: What I would give genshin guys to wear
Basically Reverse isekai but now you gotta make normal outfits for the characters so they don't stick out like a sore thumb. It can also be read as modern AU outfits if you prefer
Characters in order:
Heizou, Xiao, Albedo, Zhongli, Wanderer, Kaeya, Venti, Ayato, Diluc, Kazuha
Honestly heizou would be an easy pick. Old fashioned British detective style. Sherlock Holmes, trench coats, shades of brown, all that jazz. Also, give him access to true crime podcasts, he'll never be bored again.
I'd give xiao the ol' hot topic skater fit. Black, band tees, lots of rings and jewelry, fake pieces, ripped jeans, yeaa. It matches his personality too. Not with fashion but if you do get band t shirts tell him alot about said band just incase one of those "name five members or your not a true fan" people talk to him.
Albedo gets the light academia scholar outfits. Kinda chill, collared shirts, lighter colors, shades of brown and blue. Some gold every once in a while. Loose fitting stuff. Flowy sleeves. Lots of rings. Maybe one or two gold necklaces that he wears every once in a while. The type of outfits you see those aesthetic college student wearing. Maybe a bit of cottagecore. Lots of white shirts.
Zhongli would look like that one professor that everybody has a crush on tbh. Not as formal as what he wears in game but still, collared shirts, suits once in a while, always wears a tie, owns one dark brown trench coat that he wears everywhere at all costs. Lots of darker browns with gold accents here and there. Not a necklace kinda guy but wears a good amount of rings. Totally has reading glasses. Has alot of custom hair pins for some reason? Idk I just feel like he does. Has 100 pairs of dress shoes, and like one pair of black boots. Nothing else. Also If you give him his own closet it's so organized. Spotless, everything fits in the closet right, its honestly impressive.
Wanderer would be alot like Xiao. Hot topic's no. 1 customer. He'd have more of a blue and purple color scheme than black though. Actually listens to all the bands he has shirts of. Big punk fan. Wears this one black beanie with a skull on it basically every day. His shoe game is good, like really good. Had alot of platform shoes so he can look taller. Lots of cropped shirts that looked ripped. No long sleeves, short sleeves and sleeveless tees. An absolute MASTER at makeup, specifically eyeliner. Lotsssss of turtlenecks.
Ooohoho now Kaeya would be f u n to style. Has a more simple style. Those pinterest dudes?? Yeah, think of that. Plain colored shirts, turtlenecks alot, almost never sleeveless. Lots of long sleeves stuff.
Give him one of those black corsets that I always see, since he wears one on his original outfit. Wears necklaces, but doesnt layer them or anything. One simple necklace at a time. A TON of silver rings. Hes got those pinterest guy hands. Wears sheer black gloves. Has this one cropped blue jacket but it's more of a sweater and he always wears it when layering clothing.
Hanging earrings are necessary for him. Has a belt with a snowflake design on it that he uses alot. Almost never wears sweaters. Wears blue, grey, and black almost religiously.
Ahhh venti :) Think similar to albedos but more Victorian than college student vibes. Again, long sleeves, flowy, lotssss of ruffles, has a generous amount of green accents. Has this one emerald necklace that resembles a vision somewhat and he adores it. Never takes it off. Not a giant ring person, but has around a thousand hats. Paper boy hats in green, might own a bucket hat or two? Hes got the whole hat-universe. Always wear white socks that go just below his knees with EVERYTHING. Has multiple pairs and some are a bit more sheer than the others. Has a pair or two of white fingerless gloves to wear with long sleeves, and full, white and sheer gloves he wears when he isnt wearing long sleeves. White button ups are his life. Usually doesnt tuck said button ups in. (Totally not a walking mitski reference)
Ayato isnt THAT complex. And he's got similar style to Zhongli, but complety different color schemes. Wears suits often, and they follow a pattern. White shirt, black tie, light blue suit jacket. The icon of white pants, he basically never wears anything else. For smaller accessories they're usually dark blue or black in color. Not a ring person either, but wears one or two black rings occasionally. Has earrings but not dangly ones. Just black studs. Has alot of dark blue hair pins to keep his hair back. Theres no way his hair naturally just stays that way ok?? Every single boba place within 40 miles knows his name and face by memory. Wears the same looking black shoes all the time.
Diluc is probably another trench coat kinda guy. Less suits, more trench coats for him. In the fancy looking suit and tie gang with Ayato and Zhongli. Usually wears black button ups instead of white ones, with a crimson red tie and a brown trench coat, or a white tie and a darker red coat. Totally not an accessories guy. No necklaces, earrings, and maybe just one single gold rings he wears once every century. Another black shoes only person. I feel like the coats he wear have some fur on them in places. Just a thought. Always carries around like 3 extra hair ties in his pocket just in case he need one.
Kazuha is a comfy clothing icon. Not one for a thousand things on his outfits for aesthetic purposes, just wears what he likes and adds accessories if he feels like it. And absolute king of the fall outfit aesthetic. Outfits usually consists of slightly baggy autumn colored shirts, always short sleeves. Sweatpants or just light colored/bleached cuffed jeans. (Yes I said CUFFED) And occasionally has a darker colored orange and red knit sweater over him. Probably has one or two necklaces on at a time. Always wears this one necklace with a gold chain and a maple leaf charm on it. A gold colored accessories person. Most of the rings he has are gold. Has his ears pierced and usually wears black or gold studs. Sonetimes he wears dangly earrings but nothing to crazy. Ties his hair back a lot less.
(I wrote this on the train lmao)
#genhsin impact#genshin#genshin rambles#isekai#reverse isekai#sagau#sagau x reader#self aware genshin#heizou#xiao#zhongli#ayato#diluc#venti#kazuha#albedo#heizou x reader#xiao x reader#zhongli x reader#ayato x reader#diluc x reader#venti x reader#kazuha x reader#albedo x reader#Sagau x reader#genshin modern au
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