Long story short I got sucked into genshin and now I’m having brainworms. If you’re familiar with Twitter then you’re aware of the typical drama—especially given Itto’s reveal and a certain Tengu general.

Typical divide of ships; Kokosara vs Ittosara

See for myself, both Ittosara and Kokorou fall in categories that I love, but I also enjoy Kokosara.

So I woke up this morning and had a brain blast. What if the four were in a polycule?

Truthfully, it would be a major slow burn because Sara is a character who is solely dedicated to the shogun. During the war she’s nothing more than a general, and then there’s the whole resistance and Itto situation. Each character have their respective issues and are enemies.

But what would happen after the war? Could it be possible? I’m a little weary of making it a complete circle since I don’t know if Itto and Gorou have relations. But…if they do—

Can you tell I’m going insane? Would it be just one big enemies to lovers arc?

How about a J-Hope angsty fluff drabble. That’ll be fun. Because I love death and dying. RIP me

*admin Sinnabun*

The sounds coming from the bathroom were easily recognizable, even beyond the noise of the shower hitting the tub. What was strange was that they were coming from Tom, who wasn’t the most vocal person. Now, his moaning was loud, and gravelly, and sexy and… fuck!!

Very quietly, you entered the bathroom, immediately closing the door. Peeking in the curtain, you watched Tom stroke his soapy cock, back and forth. His forehead was touching the wall, one of his legs was perched on the tub lip, and water was falling on his back.

He was close, the muscles in his back rippling with each move of his hand and his hips. He moaned again, on a higher pitch this time. His hips spasmed and he came, his seed splattered the walls. With a happy satisfied sigh, he finished washing himself and turned the water off.

You stood by the sink, waiting for him.

“Holy shit!” He jolted in surprise when he saw you standing there. His face turned a bright shade of red. “What- what are you-”

“Were you masturbating?” you asked.

“What?!?!” he sputtered.

You cocked your head to the side. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you moan this loud, and honestly I’m kinda bummed, because it was hot as fuck and I wish you did it when you’re fucking me.” As you spoke, you pulled your panties off.

Tom looked at you, still embarrassed, but your panties pooled on the floor made his cock twitch. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d like it. I mean… it’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Why? Your voice is like dark chocolate. And it goes straight to my pussy when you talk.” You knew exactly what you were doing to him, dirty talk was his weakness, as was being told what to do. You faced the mirror and put one leg on the counter. “Look at how wet you’ve made me, Thomas.” You looked at him in the misty mirror, and removed your shirt over your head.

Tom growled softly. His cock was half hard already. “Wow - I didn’t realize you were that… flexible.”

“I can do much more than this, Tom. But right now I want you to fuck me and I want to hear you moan. Loud!”

You turned your head to look at him and he gulped.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said in a little voice and stood behind you, holding your hips.

Looking at your reflection in the mirror, he rubbed his cock on your pussy. The friction made him moan, but he held back.

You grabbed his cheeks. “What did I say, Thomas?”

He gulped and nodded. His cock rubbed your pussy again, and he did not hold back the low moan that came with it. The harder he got, the louder he moaned. When he finally entered her cunt, he was relaxed enough to whimper.

You almost came right there and then, but held it back. “Fuck me, Tom.”

He nodded at you and held you firmly, fucking you with increasing speed. At first he wanted to hold back the noise, but you told him not to. So he started moaning, whining, whimpering, in his usual low voice, then getting higher the closer he was to his orgasm.

He sounded beautiful.

“Fuck, fuck fuuuck!! Tom!!” you moaned.

You were close, and so was he. One last shaky thrust and you came, your cunt milking his orgasm out of him. And he came screaming. Your leg slipped from the counter and he held you up, both still trembling in the afterglow.

You looked at him in the mirror. “I need a shower now, when I get out, I want you naked on the bed.”

Tom nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

He may seem all sweet and innocent, but behind closed doors that boy is dark and dirty.

That warning fell short. Behind closed doors, Fr. Hiddleston was dark, dirty, devious, cunning, evil. Yes, evil. Something the patrons coming to mass every sunday did not see behind his facade of rectitude, wisdom, and goodness.

Perhaps he had to balance that shroud of righteousness that came with putting on his cassock every day. Because it took a very special kind of kinky to restrain your limbs to the bed and use all kinds of contraptions to keep you on the edge of orgasm without letting you fall, only to fuck you for what it seemed to be hours afterwards.

You weren’t the first, you wouldn’t be the last. But you were there now, and by God, you were going to enjoy it.

“Father, please!” you whined, tears already rolling down your face in pure despair.

“Ah, look at you, stretched out and trembling,” he said in that low voice of his.

“Please, no more, Father! I need-”

“You need what?” he teased, hovering over you, wearing a smile that came from hell itself.

“I need you inside of me, I need your cock, I need to cum on your cock! Please, Father!” You squirmed on the bed, trying to close your legs, give yourself a bit of relief. But the ropes kept you in place.

“Ask and you shall receive,” he mused, teasing your pussy with his cock, sliding it over your folds.

You screamed, bucking your hips up to increase the friction, or get him inside of you, or anything at this point.

“So desperate,” he purred against your neck. “I shall be merciful and end your suffering then.”

He finally - finally! - pushed his cock into your waiting cunt, and you nearly came right then and there. It only took him a couple of thrusts to send you over the edge. And that was only the start. He kept going, thrusting in and out, dragging his cock against your fluttering walls, not giving you a second to recover. He kept going, until the bed was creaking beneath you.

“I’d like to breed you, little dove. And by the way your cunt just spasmed around my cock, you’d like that!” He increased his pace, fucking you into the mattress. “So desperate for release, which I have given you. Now, so desperate for my cum. I shall give you that too.”

You nodded vigorously, unable to speak anymore.

Another orgasm crept upon you, leaving you tethering on the edge. Fr. Hiddleston coming inside your cunt was what sent you over. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and your whole body shook as if lightning had struck. You heard him speak, but his words made no sense to your fuzzy brain. All you could feel was the intense pleasure of being filled, and your cunt seemed to happily milk his cock for everything he got.

You stayed sprawled out and limp on the bed for long minutes, even after he released your ankles and wrists. Even after he cleaned you and himself, after he put his clothes back on and buttoned his cassock.

You laid there limp on the bed even when your door clicked shut, the promise of coming back tomorrow buzzing in your ears.

“The food looks delicious, but there’s something much more delicious I’d rather be having right now.”

Those words were your doom, they caused a rush of wetness to seep out of your bare pussy, and almost dripped down your legs. But you pushed your thighs firmly together.

Tom knew exactly the effect his voice had and smiled down at you. “Bathroom, 2 minutes.”

You nodded with a whimper, and speed walked out of the reception room. Once inside the bathroom, you sat on the counter and pulled your dress up. The thought of anyone else coming in and finding you wide open and dripping wet didn’t cross your muddled brain.

Tom might not have said it out loud, but his intent was crystal clear for you anyway.

A shiver ran down your spine when the door finally opened, and Tom walked in, locking the door behind him. His hungry eyes immediately scanned your pussy, and you opened your legs for him wider still.

“You look good all soaking wet.”

“Only for you, Sir!” you said.

Tom stood between your legs and kissed you. “Good girl.”

He crouched on the floor and grabbed your thighs. Normally, he would take his time, tease you, mark your skin and have your writhing before he even touched your pussy. But not tonight. Tonight he was mildly inebriated, and had been made to talk to too many inconsequential people. Knowing he couldn’t leave for at least another couple of hours, he needed to sate his hunger.

This was not the time for teasing. This was the time to bury his face in your pussy and devour you. And that’s exactly what he did.

His mouth covered your whole pussy while his tongue licked around your folds, from your entrance to your clit. His strong hands kept you in place as you squirmed. He puckered his lips and sucked your clit, drawing your first orgasm out of you.

“Do you want people checking what’s going on in here?” he purred, licking your pussy from end to end. You shook your head. “Don’t get too loud then.”

You whimpered and resorted to biting the back of your hand as he resumed his actions. His tongue was joined by his fingers, and he sent you into overstimulation. His mouth attached to your clit, his fingers fucked your cunt, playing with your g-spot. His pinky was teasing your asshole.

Keeping it down was near impossible, but if anyone came through that door, he’d stop. That was the last thing you wanted right now. Not when your orgasms were actually melting into each other, not able to ride back down from one when he was sending you into another.

By the time he was done, you were exhausted. You leaned against the mirror, your legs and arms dropping limp.

Tom looked at you, licking his lips and fingers.

“Delicious and gorgeous!!” he said. He stood up, leaning on the counter with his hands on each side of your hips. “We have to get back to the party, darling.”

“But… wait… you didn’t…” you panted, still out of breath.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” he purred, and kissed your head. “I plan to fuck every single hole of yours as soon as we get home.”

“I wouldn’t disturb him during his breeding season if I were you,” Thor said, running behind you, trying to stop you. But you ignored him. “He asked to be left alone!”

“I DON’T CARE!” you bellowed, and forced yourself inside Loki’s room.

It was dark and cold, and the room smelled heavily of musk. Taking a shaky breath you walked towards the balcony, but before you could even touch the curtains, Loki barked.

“NO!”

“Loki-”

“I warned you,” he said in an uncharacteristically gravelly and cold voice. “You really shouldn’t come close to me while I’m in this state.”

Loki leaned forward, a tiny sliver of light fell on his face showing its blue color and rugged markings. Icy fear slid down your throat and you gulped hard, determined not to back out. You knew Loki was part Jotnar, and that specific part of his physiology manifested tenfold when going in his heat cycle. But he had never let you see him, locking himself in what usually was your bedroom.

“Not anymore, Loki,” you started. “I am your partner, your wife, and your claimed Omega!” You fought to keep your voice from shaking. “I am done taking heat suppressants and leaving you alone during your most vulnerable time! Would you do that to me?”

“Of course not-”

“Yet you have!” you interrupted. “I am at my most vulnerable right now, in the middle of my own heat! And you’re here…” your voice cracked. “Will you leave me alone again?”

Loki’s voice softened. “It’s for your own protection.”

You advanced to the bed, the robe you were wearing pooled at your feet as you revealed your naked body. “You would never hurt me, Loki.”

He took a deep breath and growled. He was able to smell your heat, your arousal. Your need. He could barely contain himself, and you tipped him over the edge as soon as you crawled on the bed and your scent took over his senses.

This wasn’t the playful love making, or the lustful fucking you were used to. This Loki was feral, unhinged, hungry, violent even. But, without the effect of the heat suppressants, your body was prepared for him, for his rough rutting, for his possessive hands. His lips devoured yours as he fucked you, and you wrapped your legs around him, giving him all the space he needed.

You cupped his face, forcing him to face you, looking into his red eyes and blue skin. Loki slowed down, maybe waiting for you to push him away and run. But that didn’t happen, you hugged him close to your chest.

“Breed me, my prince! I’m so ready for you!”

The pleading in your voice spurred him on. He groaned and moaned, his sharp teeth left marks on your shoulders and neck. He had claimed you already, but this felt like he was doing it all over again. Your cunt fluttered around his unusually cold girth, which grew colder and thicker. Lost in pleasure, Loki came within you, filling you with his seed, its coldness made you shiver. His swollen knot pulsed against your g-spot and sent you over the edge. You clung to his back, and shouted for him, with your legs flailing in the air.

Long seconds passed, Loki was still wedged inside of you, his knot keeping all his seed in your womb. It restricted movement, but you were never happier than when Loki was buried between your legs.

“You’re not scared.” He sounded surprised.

“I never was, my love,” you said, caressing his face with adoration. “I love you for everything you are. I am yours and you are mine.”

Loki smiled, flashing his pointy teeth. “I am yours and you are mine, my princess.”

He leaned down to kiss you, slowly at first, but didn’t take long until his kiss was passionate, deep and possessive. His knot was starting to subside, allowing him to move his hips, slowly fucking you once again.

You whimpered, in happiness, desire, love, need for him to start all over again. He took a deep breath, almost drinking in your smell. His toothy smile was not kind now, but feral.

“Oh, my princess, this has only started.”

The boy was stupid. Without a doubt. You could see it in his eyes every morning when you gave out instructions. But if there was someone with a severe case of morosexual, that was you. Everything he lacked in brain cells, he had it in deliciousness. He plagued your waking hours, and infiltrated your dreams. Everytime he spoke a word you just wanted to sit on his mouth, give him something better to do with his tongue. Whenever you watched him do a few laps around camp, you wondered if his fairly big cock, bouncing inside his shorts, was leaving his brain deprived of oxygen. And boy, did you want to sit on that too!

You had to do something about it, before he left.

His last day, you called him in your office, he was shaking like a leaf, dreading what you were going to say. He had screwed up so many times by now… It made you want to pull down his pants and spank him.

“Hazeldine…” you started. “You are leaving tomorrow and there’s something I need you to take care of before that. And I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional. ”

His eyes were blank, as if he didn’t understand one word of what you just said. He probably didn’t. Why is that so fucking hot?? The hell is wrong with you??

You stood up and locked the door, leaning on the desk right in front of him. “Are you a virgin, Hazeldine?” His eyes went wide and he stammered. “That is a yes. Are you into girls?”

He stuttered again, but managed to get out a clear, “yes.”

You smiled. “Have you ever even touched a woman?” He stammered again, turning as red as a ripe tomato. “I take that as a no.”

You watched him for a few more seconds, trying to come up with an approach. It had to be a direct one, the guy clearly wasn’t going to get subtleties.

“Hazeldine, I think it’s time you get rid of that V-card.”

“What?!!?” he sputtered, and turned even more red, if that was possible.

“I can’t help it, I want you. You’re dumb and infuriating, but you make me so horny!” you said, and took his hand, leading it under your skirt and on to your bare pussy. “Can you feel what you’re doing to me?” you asked, getting his fingers between your wet folds. “That’s my arousal, Hazeldine. That’s how horny you make me.”

He looked at you with his eyes wide as plates. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, his usually empty head was now full of the images he had seen in porn movies, of wet pussies and eager women. You kept moving his hand, teasing yourself with his long fingers. The bulge in his pants was not to be ignored. You cupped it over his clothes and stroked his shaft.

“Fuck!!” he whimpered.

“I want to fuck you, Hazeldine. Are you okay with that?”

He nodded vigorously.

“Good boy, sit down.”

You pulled his shorts to his knees and pushed him on the chair. His cock stood tall and proud, and looked about to burst. You knew he wasn’t going to last, so you took him in your mouth, just to get his first orgasm out of the way. Which happened really fast. Then, you kept sucking until he was hard enough again. Oh, youth! Didn’t take long either.

Legs on either side of the chair, you impaled yourself with his cock. Bouncing up and down, you teased your clit, trying to reach your orgasm as fast as you knew he was going to cum.

“I can’t-! I can’t!!” His head was thrown back and he was panting, moaning like a whore in heat. He had watched his fair amount of porn, but he seemed to forget the women were the ones screaming in those videos.

You were close too. As soon as his cum coated your walls, you came, mumbling and moaning curses that were muffled by his high pitched scream.

Not exactly satisfied, but at least with that out of the way, you stood up. “Okay, that was fun!” you said, getting wet wipes to clean yourself.

Hazeldine just groaned, still laying back on the chair, half soft cock still out. He looked even more brainless than usual. Maybe that night, his last night, it wouldn’t be bad to have a round 2.

410 Smut Prompts

I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional around you.

That phrase resonated in your ears. Oh yeah, he wasn’t being professional at all right now, not with you bent over his desk and his cock pounding your cunt.

At first, you thought he was messing with you, a joke at your expense. Very unprofessional, and you fought back, dismissing his words.

Everyone knows I have a crush on you! And all of the sudden you have “feelings” for me? Fuck you, Hiddleston!

If you interrupt me one more time - so help me god!!

God can’t help you!!

That did it. In a second he was all over you, tearing at your clothes, pulling your pants and panties down. Touching your breasts with his tongue and your pussy with his fingers. In the shock you barely managed to open his pants and as soon as his hard heavy cock fell on your hand, Tom turned you over and shoved it in your cunt.

Professionalism was out the window, lost between the mess of papers that flew off the desk to the floor. His pace was bruising from the start, and you could do little more than brace yourself against the desk and take it.

“Don’t cum yet… I want us to- fuck!”

Isn’t it what we’re doing? You thought, but could not speak if you wanted to focus on staving off your release. He was close, if the moaning and grunting on her neck was any indication.

Please! Please! Please! You repeated in your head, though that wasn’t what was coming out of your mouth.

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck!!” he cursed loudly.

One… two… three more thrusts and he was coming, filling your womb with his seed. And you collapsed on the desk, shaking as if it was made of ice. Tom leaned down and covered your body with his.

“Still think I’m joking?” he breathed out on your neck.

You smiled and took a deep breath. “Jury is still out.”

410 Smut Prompts

requested by @leniram1890
Short and sweet, you can come up with whatever comes next

Pairing: Tom/Reader
Rating: PG

Tag list is open!

Feedback is always appreciated and reblogs are encouraged!!
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As Tom’s personal assistant, you spent much of your time around the guy. No one would notice though, as it was part of your job to be invisible. You didn’t mind. Tom was the one meant to be in the spotlight, you just had to make sure he looked good. Which wasn’t hard at all.

The job had his perks. Traveling around the world, reading amazing stories, watching Tom perform.

The down side? The tremendous crush you had on who was basically your boss.

Tom was sweet and attentive and ever the gentleman. Once or twice you could have sworn he was borderline flirting with you. But, one, he was nice to everyone. And, two, you were you. Nothing special or out of the ordinary.

You hoped one day you’d get over it, but he was too charming, too enchanting. And nothing made you come crashing down as much as helping Tom with his lines.

Tom truly loved performing. Even when it was you and him in a small office, he got into the skin every single character. This time it was no different, with the added bonus of this being one of the rare occasions Tom was offered a romcom.

“They sent me the scene for the audition tape and I need a reading,” he said excitedly while you finished your coffee. “The setting is in a coffee shop-”

“How original,” you snorted.

Tom rolled his eyes at you and sat by your side. The scene was short, and clearly was meant to be the climax of the script. It didn’t take you long to figure out the scene ended up with a kiss, and lots of cheering of the fictional people in the coffee shop.

Of course, Tom was playing the part, delivering his heartfelt speech as if he was the god of love himself.

And with the effect he was having on you, maybe he was.

Both your cheeks and the pit of your stomach started to burn as the kiss neared. It was becoming increasingly hard to keep your voice steady. You kept your eyes fixed on the paper under your nose, reading and re reading the lines you were supposed to say.

“Look at me?” he said with a small sigh.

You frowned. “That’s not the next line-”

Tom was too close when you turned your head to look at him. And then your eyes were forced closed as he made the space between your lips disappear.

The kiss was everything you had previously imagined. It took all the oxygen out of your brain, positively making you feel faint. Why must air be a necessity? You wanted to keep kissing him forever!

“You take your characters very seriously,” you said when he pulled back.

“That wasn’t in character,” he said in a very low voice. His blue eyes were piercing your very soul.

“Then- what-” Your mouth felt very dry all of the sudden.

“Should I make it more obvious?” He smirked.

“Ye- okay-”

Tom kissed you again, and you effectively turned to a very warm puddle of goo.

“Oooh, fuck me…” you breathed out, registering what you had said only two seconds after the words left your mouth. “I’m-”

Tom’s smile grew wide and mischievous. “If you ask nicely…”

Hero’s shift was almost over.

Thank god for that, she thought, if I have to walk one more time around this damn building I swear I’m going to-

Oh.

There was blood in the alley. Blood. Someone was bleeding, a civilian no doubt. Hero’s eyes snapped up and she caught the tell-tale glint of metal. Try as they might, it was impossible to completely rid the city of criminals. Could this have happened for something as trivial as money?The thought almost made her blood boil. But first-

Oh god, there was so much blood.

It wasn’t even a conscious thing - her legs acted faster than her brain, and suddenly, she was next to the man’s side in no time.

Sweat plastered hair to their forehead, eyebrows scrunched together in obvious pain. The man wasn’t even conscious. Hero was relieved when she saw the rise and fall of their chest, having feared for the worst. Not that the knife in their side was any good.

Hero pulled out her communicator, calling for an ambulance. Even in the haze of panic and rambling, she couldn’t help but feel a pull of familiarity, somehow.

“Hello, hello sir? Can your hear me?” Hero lightly tapped their cheek, when she’d been reassured help was on the way. Subconsciously, her eyes flitted over each of the man’s features. “I’ve called the ambulance. They’re coming as fast as they can. You’re going to get help as soon as possi-”

She stopped. Rubbed her eyes. Did it again.

Oh.

She recognized those ocean blue eyes, though they were always filled with cruel delight. Recognized those thin lips, though they were always fitted into a snarl. Recognized the straight black hair, now greased with sweat and pain.

Villain.

Villain was sitting in an alley, clothes torn and bloody. Villain was there, mask off, and vulnerable. Villain was bleeding out right in front of her.

Hero snapped herself out of her shocked stupor. Now was not the time. It didn’t matter if they were the one who scarred her and hurt her, who tormented a city full of innocents. At the end of the day, they were still a citizen of the city - her city - and now they needed her help. She can entertain thoughts of arrest later. When they’re alive enough to even bearrested.

She tore his shirt where the knife stuck out, making sure not to jostle the wound any more than needed. Nevertheless, Villain let out another moan, and she couldn’t help but apologise. Bundling her hands in cloth so as to not risk infection, she pressed down on the wound. She’d never been good at being the medic and this time was no exception. More blood seemed to spill out at her attempts of getting it under control.

Hopeless, hopeless, hopeless.

“Don’t die- urgh, don’t die on me yet, Villain. Who… who am I supposed to stop if you’re gone? Huh?”

Stop being so damn hopeless.

Her eyes suddenly stung, and she had to blink back tears. Mentally, she chided herself for the onset of emotion. This wasn’t the time, she reminded herself.

Villain’s eyes fluttered open, and the sigh of relief that escaped couldn’t be helped.

“Hey, hey Villain? I’m here… I’m here for you, and help is on the way. It shouldn’t be long now, so just stay awake for me. Okay? Villain?”

Villain’s eyes widened, just for a moment, before returning to its usual sarcastic gaze. “Oh, the stories they’ll tell if I fall asleep here, in your arms,” they smirked, then groaned at the movement.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that. “Of course, we can’t risk tarring your oh-so-perfect reputation, now can we?” Still, she clasped their hand, and flushed at the affirmation she felt when they gripped back. Her eyes felt wet again and she just needed one last thing from them.

“Just, just promise me that. Promise me you won’t leave me, not now. All great villains have to go out with a bang, don’t they?”

“Who said…who said I was dying today,” Villain croaked out, before their hand finally let go.

[3:48 PM] - VYN RICHTER

Vulnerability is something completely foreign to Vyn Richter. Vyn is a man whose entire persona is built off of perfection, and vulnerability is a weakness. Vulnerability makes him think of a naïve child, whose foolish desires gave way to equal punishment. It makes him think of an empty house and an even more empty father. Then he doesn’t think about it anymore.

But when he hears you murmur his name amidst the ringing in his ears as you raise your hand to feel his forehead, it’s all he can think about. For two days Vyn has been sick with a cold, and was unwilling to admit how truly bad it had gotten until he had collapsed while you had been at his home to review a NXX case. The most you have managed to do so far has been getting Vyn into bed, but the next step is figuring out how to actually help.

And if your small gasp was anything to go by, he was guessing his forehead felt as hot as the rest of his body. “Vyn, how long were you planning on working in this condition?” His heart tugs at the concern in your voice, guilty for forcing you to worry, but a louder part of him is relieved to hear the emotion in your voice.

No pounding silence. No closing door raising bile in his throat. Just your hand against his cheek guiding his mind away from his train of thought, so soft and cool he cannot help but lean into the affection so easily given. “Please take a break, I’m going to get some medicine for you to take, but you’re not leaving this bed, understand?”

He nods, despite only focusing on the way your brow furrowed in concern, how you looked upon him not with indifference, but true care. He is no longer a suave psychologist, always in control. His daedalian surface has broken, and yet all you care about is whether he has cold medicine in one of his cabinets.

To care and be cared for is a feeling so alien to Vyn it almost sounds like a myth. Fascinating and beautiful, but fictitious all the same. To experience it himself is a miracle that carefully brushes red across his cheeks with a artist’s gentle hand.

And when he calls out your name to come back into the room, body exhausted, hair messily strewn across his face, dusted with the color of the roses he loves so much, and asks you to stay, he realizes that maybe that barrier wasn’t just holding you back, but trapping him inside as well. Maybe some things were meant to be broken.

[5:35 AM] - ARTEM WING

18 hours. You have been in the office for 18 fucking hours, and at this point if you look at your keyboard for any longer you’re pretty sure you’ll become permanently cross-eyed. So, slowly standing up, hearing the cracks in your back as you stretch, you amble your way over to the coffee machine.

Just as you reach it, you can hear a door softly open, and watch as Artem strolls out of his office. You quickly brighten up, waving tiredly over to him as you lean against the counter. “Hey Artem, what brings you out of the office?” He smiles at you, turning to open a cupboard to reach for two mugs, and your heart swims with silent fondness as he sets a mug down for you to pick up.

Many wouldn’t believe the youngest senior attorney was exhausted, or even that he was capable of exhaustion, but you noticed the miniscule eye bags and undone tie like huge red signs pointing to how tired he truly was.

“I just wanted to get a cup of coffee is all.” Your brow furrows as you remember the pristine coffee machine in the corner of his office. “Did your coffee machine break, Artem? You know you could always tell Christine and I’m sure she would get a replacement for you.” His eyes seem to widen as he glances at you again, coughing into his hand as the tips of his ears turn crimson. “My machine is perfectly fine, I simply like the coffee this machine makes better.”

You cast a side glance to the coffee machine in the break room. A hunk of metal that you sometimes hesitate to call a coffee machine given the…. “Coffee” that sometimes pours out on rougher days. You raise an eyebrow. “There’s nothing like sludge to get you through overtime, isn’t that right Mr. Wing?” Your eyes crinkle with mirth at the way his throat stutters when he quickly grabs his cup and turns back around to face the coffee maker.

As you lightly chuckle and turn to begin to make your own coffee you hear your name called, echoing in the empty law firm. “I… I don’t like the coffee.” You laugh openly now, smiling at the guilty look on his face. “I could’ve guessed that from the look on your face every time you taste it.” Artem seems to suddenly find the machine fascinating, refusing to look at you in favor of fiddling with the settings splayed across the top.

You assume the conversation is over as you chuckle softly and turn away, but Artem’s voice, wrought with all the softness you can imagine, causes you to pause. “It allows me to see you more.” He says it with such a hesitation, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard Artem this unsure.

The blood rushing through your ears doesn’t allow you to answer him, and the silence that follows is deafeningly loud. He turns to face you awkwardly, clutching the mug in his hands. “I’m sorry. That was inapprop-” the feeling of horror at the realization he was going to take it back loosens your own lips.

“I like seeing you too!” Shock spreads across both of your faces as the words are blurted out of your traitorous mouth, and he quickly raises one hand to cover his own face, coughing into it as you spot the red peeking out from underneath his fingers, matching the red spread across your own face.

“Ah. I see. Well then I am glad.” As he begins to walk back into his own office you manage to compose yourself enough to finally speak again. “You don’t have to drink that anymore. You can come visit me anytime.”

The thought of Artem leaving his office just to see you still sends your heart careening through your ribcage, but you can at least get the words to leave your throat and rest in the air. He smiles as he opens the door to return to maddening case files and paperwork, and when you leave the office two hours later, you still cannot get the words out of your mind.

“You are worth it.”

[1:23 PM] - LUKE PEARCE

Luke really didn’t think through letting you fix his board with him. Of course Luke can never really think anything through when you’re involved, but he still manages to be surprised by just how much trouble he can get himself into.

The sunlight casting over your face as you concentrate on lifting the board so he can check the truck axle for any damage has his breath hitching in his throat, and there’s only so much self control he really has before his hand impulsively twitches towards his pocket. This really isn’t the time or the place, but just the knowledge of the ring nestled inside has him feeling settled enough to look up at you again.

“You know for someone who has never skateboarded before, you sure are good at helping me fix my own board.” You scoff and he can barely smother the grin edging onto his face.

“Yeah sure, because holding a piece of wood in place is something only skateboarding experts can do.” He thinks he missed this most of all. Just talking to you, getting to ask about your day or seeing the crinkles on the corners of your eyes when you smile as you talk. The way your voice lilts as you speak, all of these things are what makes you, you. And there was only so much imagining he could do, all alone, before he started to miss seeing you in action.

“Tony Hawk only wishes he could be you~” he practically coos at you, leaning over the board to get closer as you throw your head back and laugh. He basks in the sound, something so quintessentially you, and after so long of being starved for the comfort of your voice it makes moments like these all the more special for him.

“Well alright then Sherlock,” you quickly stand up, gently pushing the board forward so he could catch it. “If I’m gonna beat Tony Hawk I better figure out how to stand on the board first.” You reach out your hand to him, and he realizes he hasn’t been this happy in eight years.

He smiles. He takes your hand.

Reblogs are appreciated!!

[3:45 AM] - MARIUS VON HAGEN

Marius likes the way you roll your eyes at him. He likes the small dance he can waltz with you in each of your conversations. He jabs, you retort. He pesters, you bristle.

It’s familiar and fun, and his favorite part is when there are moments in those small fights or petty squabbles that you laugh at his pout or petulant comment and smile.

And every brush stroke he puts onto his canvas too late at night, is to capture the pure adrenaline that smile gives him into his paintings. It’s like it’s meant to be momentary, a shooting star. Something precious and bright and special only to those that are blessed enough to see it.

But he imagines one day painting you in a wedding gown, and gets back to work. He needs to be able to paint the smile on your face in it after all.

i saw this post and now i’m obsessed with the “humans are space orcs” and it got me thinking about Thor and Peter

he first met the omega after Loki’s armies officially took New York – the boy was a gift and he grew up in a human encampment not far from where the initial point of entry was. He’d been gifted the little thing after his sixteenth summer. His name was Peter, and he was a skittish little thing and it was always something random that took his interest.

Once, Thor had come back with a treat for his pet, a small animal that tasted delicious after being slowly roasted– and the thing had dared to cry, insisting that Thor was a monster, and the small creature was too cute to eat. Even punishing him hadn’t changed his stance, so eventually, Thor stopped showing him where the meat at their table came from. That wasn’t all though, when nesting his pet was never satisfied with plush, extravagant furs, rather he combined them with Thor’s used clothing and came up with a nest that had a scent strong enough to send others running.

At first he’d thought it was due to the new environment since human omegas were so fragile, but the strongly scented nests were a common thing. Even while not in heat, the omega would often request that they fuck in the nest, “to make sure your scent is strong alpha.”

And the boy insisted on touching everything, from random creatures to centuries-old artifacts. If Peter wanted to touch it, he would. Usually, a sharp smack to his ass or hand was enough to deter him, but nothing Thor could do or say was permanent. Once, while visiting a diplomat’s house, the boy had even tried to pet one of his guard dogs. Dinner was an awkward affair after that, and the only good thing was Thor had been able to wait to buy him a dog until after the redness in Peter’s ass faded.

nooks and crannies ; kōshi sugawara

warningsnot sure

genrefluff

word count 0.2k

inspirationn/a

synopsisin which hours in a school library become the highlight of your hectic life

author’s note alright, bare with me guys. one ) i haven’t written in like forever so yes, ik this is hot garbage. two ) this is my first anime related drabble so yay to that. hope it didn’t too bad, i really like the concept so there’s that lol ,, also did not proofread ‍♀️

School, like any other student, was something you dreaded. The stress, the people, the work, and did you mention the stress? It was hard to find time for yourself. Life was constantly taking you on a ride that had no stops, no breaks. Especially with it being your third year, there was no time for slacking. To say you had no hope for anything to make you feel clear in such a crowded time in your life was an understatement. The outcome of you finding something like that seemed impossible.

Thatisuntil your beloved librarian gave you the opportunity every other weekday to give a hand around the school library. Although it might’ve been turned down by your peers, you did anything but. It was like a dream getaway. A dusty, spider infested getaway with a strange leather smell. But you couldn’t care less. How could you when the other slot was filled by someone like Sugawara?

Not only was the job of helping around the library one of the most easiest jobs you’ve ever had, you had someone to enjoy it with. When it felt like there was nothing else to be done, Sugawara would take your wrist and drag you around those tall bookcases.

Keeping your conversations and laughter to a minimum near the comics, sneaking kisses in the section of dictionaries, simply sitting and doing nothing with your backs against the science fiction shelves. It was like anything was possible with him when you two were in that maze of books.

Like for once the outside world meant nothing.

It was still a mystery to you how you and Sugawara got this close. Months before this the only time you two would exchange words were as acquaintances, simple hello’s and the occasional goodbye. Apparently something in the universe had clicked, now it was like you knew everything about him. From his favorite color to his fears. And vice versa.

Of course, the fear of someone walking along those tall bookcases to find you and Sugawara being borderline disobedient lingered in the back of your head. But the adrenaline you got every time he’d grab your wrist and whisk you away would always overshadow that feeling. 

Nothing, not one thing in the world, compares to when you were on library duty with Sugawara.

Fruitful Encounter (Character Intro)

We find ourselves following a motorized scooter! Attached to this bike is a cart that has multiple crates full of small jars, padded with soft package wrap to keep them from breaking. The rider’s face is indistinguishable because of the helmet she wears, but that doesn’t seem to stop multiple trolls from smiling and waving as she goes by…

We stop infront of a familiar store: Morning’s Glory Café and Bar! It’s closed currently, as they’re preparing to open for the evening. And this is where we see our special troll stop infront! Outside, a jade blood seems to be waiting patiently by the door. He has a sense of importance about him, and when he speaks, you realize that this is the same voice from the commercial!

“Graile! I was worried you weren’t going to make it!”

The troll with the motorized scooter gets up, taking off her helmet. A large smile is on her freckled face as she fishes out her two toned glasses from her bag, as well as papers.

“<( Sorry, traffic is always crazy at this time! Sign these and I’ll bring the jams inside.+)”

She hands him the sheets, then puts her helmet down. She picks up the crates one by one, the man taking a pen from his jacket pocket to write on the papers.

“You know you don’t need to do that. I can just get the cooks to grab everything, won’t be so straining on you.”

The gold blood stops for a second, already opening the door before she turns to face him,

“<( Don’t worry, I’m sure they’re busy preparing their own foods. Besides, I don’t mind!”

“…”

The jade shakes his head lightly, chuckling to himself,

“I’m sure you don’t, Graile. I’m sure you don’t…”

—

About an hour later, we see Graile again on her scooter. The cart behind her is empty and she’s traveling on a dirt trail where the only lights is the one that shines through her bike. Eventually though, in the distance, we see a decent sized hive. The yellow glow from inside the place is comforting in a way. The troll pulls into the front, parking her motorized scooter on the side, away from the vision of the road. She eventually enters her home, stretching as she walks from the door to the kitchen…

[GRAILE IS AVAILABLE FOR ASKS!]

Ohgod, she’d nearly forgotten the feeling of rage howling in her chest, the cramping of fingers turned claws, the pressure of gnashing teeth.

To be reminded was to receive a call to arms. Here are her weapons, her body, her spirit. An ancient voice whispers, yes, here they are. Take them up. Wrap your hands in bloodied cloth and anoint yourself with oil seeped in intent. Fight.

There must be cost when decisions are made outside the reach of those it affects. A cost and a consequence, like a blow and the painful bruise that follows.

Unholy? Ha. Unholy in a world that bellows for control and leeches the spirit from her as if it is its due. To this world, her blood-thirst is abhorrent. Unnerving.

In truth, she is Divine.

My laptops currently out of commission but if you guys have any requests art wise or writing wise chuck them my way

(please do I’m beyond stuck for content I don’t wanna keep drawing only nanami cos I’m scared I might get bored or run out of ideas-)