Female Writers - Blog Posts

⋆˙⟡Sleep over. Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader.⟡⋆˙

I’ve had an Alani nu and a monster today so I’m SPEED typing lmfaoo

Masterlist

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You were excited. Your heart was thumping against your ribs as you bustled about your room, tidying things up. Your mom was out of town for the weekend on a business trip, so you and your boyfriend would be able to have a sleep over.

Did you have to do it in secret? Yeah, was it worth it? Absolutely.

Izuku’s mom wasn’t aware of your arrangements, and neither was your mom, but it’s not like you had any bad intent! Honest!

You had just finished cleaning when the doorbell rang “Yes! He’s here!” You laughed a bit as you dashed out of your room and down the stairs.

“I’m coming!” You called to Izuku.

You whipped the door open and there stood Izuku, looking a bit nervous but with a smile on his face “hey Y/n- I mean babe- I mean baby-“ he was still getting used to using pet names, and he was still a little shy when it came to them.

You laughed a bit “Zuku, don’t worry about forcing them” you gently kissed his cheek and pulled him inside.

“Okay! So I got stuff to make cookies and found a list of good hero documentaries for us to watch- oh oh! And I got stuff to make battery acid!” You excitedly rattled off things you’d done in preparation for the sleep over.

Izuku smiled as you rambled. That was one thing he loved about you- you sometimes went on tangents like he did. “Y/n..? Have you had any caffeine today?”

You laughed a little and nodded “I had a monster.” You said with a light red on your cheeks, rubbing the back of your neck as you bounced on the balls do your feet

Izuku smiled and sighed “those are so bad for you” he said as he gently grabbed your hands, his cheeks flushing red as you gripped his tightly, but not painfully.

“I know I know, but I don’t drink them often.” You smiled brightly “so, what do you wanna do first-?” You gasped dramatically and stood on your tippy toes, something you did when you were excited

“I bought us something- come on!” You said as you released one of his hands, practically dragging him up the stairs.

“W-woah! Baby- b-babe!” Izuku exclaimed as you quickly pulled him upstairs to your room.

He hadn’t even gotten a chance to take his shoes off! But you didn’t seem to mind as to opened the door to your bedroom and pulled him inside. You let go of him and walked briskly to your bed, holding up two hangers. One had Spider-Man PJs hung neatly on them, and the other had hello Kitty Pjs on them.

(These ^)

Izuku smiled fondly as you proudly held up what you’d bought “look! We’ll match!”

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck “I assume the Spider-Man is for you and the hello Kitty is for me?” He asked

You giggled and walked over, nodding and kissing his cheek. “So smart” you praised sweetly.

Izuku stiffened and blushed so red he matched the pj pants in your hand. He felt a goofy grin pull at the corners of his lips, his heart beating a little harder in his chest.

A little later .~•*

In the span of a few minutes, you and Izuku had put on your PJs. He looked adorable. His hair slightly messy from pulling the shirt over his head, and his cheeks red.

You gasped and squealed “oh my god you’re adorable!” You cupped his cheeks and pecked his forehead.

Izuku blushed and laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “You think? I wasn’t sure about them since they..don’t fit the greatest.”

The shirt wasn’t quite long enough to reach the waist band of the pants, a bit of his v-line exposed. The pants were tight on Izuku’s ass and thighs. Thanks to his shoot style and leg work outs, his lower body was chiseled.

You blushed and looked away, before giving him a less than pure glance “I know so” you mumbled.

He noticed your gaze and covered his face “stop looking at me like that” Izuku whined embarrassedly, feeling heat crawl up to his ears.

You took a step closer and gently grabbed his hips, pulling him close to you. He rested his hands on your shoulders and gave you a half lidded, shy gaze. God you loved that face.

You smiled and leaned in “you’re so pretty baby” you praised softly, only making Izuku’s cheeks redden even further.

“Y/n..” he whined, “stoop..” he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and hid his face in the crook of your neck and shoulder.

You laughed lightly and pulled away from him a bit. He reluctantly lifted his head to look up at you with a shy and embarrassed look. You leaned down and softly kissed his forehead “I love you, you know that?”

Izuku felt his heart leap. Any time you said that to him, his heart lurched in his chest. He melted anc cupped your cheeks “I-i love you too”

You blushed a bit before leaning down and gently catching his lips in a kiss.

.~•*

The two of you ended up making out a bit, Izuku ending up in your lap as you ran your hands across his chest and down to his ass, gripping the curves and planes of his body while he whined and whimpered into the kiss, his body burning under your touch.

You softly kissed the sweet spot on his neck, your lips slowly trailing up and down the soft skin. “Y/n- ah-” he angled his head back as a soft, feminine moan slipped past his chewed lips, his cheeks red.

You smiled against his skin “I love you Izuku” you murmured, your voice gentle and affectionate.

He let out a little whine and bit his lip “I love you too Y/n” he said shakily as he trailed his hands up the nape of your neck and to your cheeks.

You pulled from his neck and smiled at him. Your heart swelling with affection as you looked up at him.

Izuku gazed down at you shyly, but sweetly, his round doe eyes so sparkly and holding so much affection.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, one he relaxed into “wanna watch a movie?” You asked.

Izuku fidgeted shyly, picking at his cuticles “can we watch Blues Clues?” Iykyk

You laughed lightly and smiled at him, feeling warmth spread through your chest and cheeks “of course we can.”

He brightened and smiled “yes! I love you Y/n!” Izuku hugged you tightly and nuzzled into the crook of your neck, making you chuckle a little and pat him on the back. “I love you too, nerd. Now cmon, I’ll turn it on.”

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Tehe cutesy little fic I thought of <3

⋆˙⟡Cigarette. Pro Hero!Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Detective!Reader⟡⋆˙

Warnings; mentions of violence, smoking, swearing, death, arguing.

I’m just feeling creative today ig! Anyways, here we go! .~•*

Masterlist

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You’d been driving around in your black car, dressed in your black blazer with your white button up and tie. Your radio had been very quiet recently, and with the new number one hero, it wasn’t surprising.

Your stoic expression remained that way, even with the peace that settled over your area, your features stayed stern.

You were enjoying the quiet, and the sunset. You glanced out your window, your mind racing with several thoughts as you did so.

Your moment was cut short, however, when your radio went off.

“Lieutenant L/n, there’s been a homicide. Can you meet on 32’nd street ‘n Ridge? Pro hero Deku called it in.”

A sigh left you as you grabbed your radio, responding with your firm and tired voice “I’ll be there. I’m in the area” you sighed as you put your radio on its hook on your dash.

Annoyance twitched at your eye and you grabbed your pack of cigarettes laying on the center console “of fuckin course he did” you mutterwd as you put a cigarette between your lips and grabbed a lighter, sparking the flame to light your cigarette.

.~•*

It didn’t take long before you pulled up on the scene. Cop cars and pro heros littering the yard with ‘CRIME SCENE’ tape lining the perimeter.

You stepped out of your car with your cigarette between your lips. You took a long drag, savoring the burn of the nicotine against the back of your throat.

Your shoes meet the grass as you walk up to a group of officers and the damn hero himself. Ignoring the bitterness for the mop of green hair and tall physique, you turn to the officers.

“What’s it looking like?” You mutter, placing your pack of cigarettes in the inside pocket of your blazer.

The officer sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. By her distraught appearance. You can tell she’s a rookie. “U-uh..I-it’s a kid..ma’am” she manages to choke out over the nausea in her throat.

Your expression remains the same, but you feel a sickening anger in your stomach. “Right.” You turned to Deku, your expression stoic as you removed your cigarette from your lips. “And you called it in?”

Deku’s expression was tense, a bit distraught, like the officers. “Yeah. I responded to the call from my agency, but by the time I got here, the perpetrator was actively leaving. His quirk let him get away..” he gave a tentative nod to finish his statement, trying not to seem as down as he felt.

You sighed, cigarette smoke leaving your mouth and nose “right. So you didn’t get here fast enough?”

Your comment caught Izuku off guard. His shoulders stiffened and he opened and shut his mouth for a second, before his shoulders slouched and he looked down “No, I didn’t, lieutenant.”

You hadn’t meant to snap at the pro hero, much less the number one, but when there was the death of a minor you were dealing with, it made you more irritable than you already were.

You sighed and turned “alright, whatever. ‘M goin in.”

“Hold on a minute, Y/n” you heard a gruff, familiar voice speak to you. You almost groaned out loud as that chuckle approached “Now’s not the time, chief.” You turned to view the chief of police, Saiko.

Saiko smiled at you, he’d given you a lot of training before you decided on homicide for your field. He was almost a father figure to you. “You haven’t even heard what I have to say, not very different than how you were as a rookie.”

His electric blue eyes rested on you, and you finally turned to look at him. He was a tall, broad shouldered man with deep brown hair and bright blue eyes, worn slightly by time but with an old man’s humor in them.

You sighed and flicked the ashes off of the tip of your cigarette “yeah well, I’ve definitely got the head on my shoulders to warrant such actions” you commented, not really serious.

Saiko chuckled gruffly “Cmon kid. I need you to hear me out on this. Deku here said he saw the perp, you need him.” He said as he placed a hand on Izuku’s shoulder, who’d been standing there awkwardly, very much sensing your animosity towards him.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly “What? You want him to help me?” You asked incredulously, almost dropping your cigarette.

Saiko only nodded, grinning with his scruffy mustache “that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

The three of you stayed in silence before you opened your mouth to protest, however you were quickly shut down by Saiko’s warning look.

You clammed your mouth shut and gritted your teeth together. Great. Now you had to work with the big crybaby of a number one hero. Lucky you.

“Fine.” You mutterwd as you grabbed Izuku by his arm “Cmon Deku.”

Izuku stumbled as the two of you walked into the house. His stomach churned with the smell of blood in the air.

The two of you walked through the house, your cigarette sligjtly masking the smell of blood and stale dust. The house was messy as all hell, clothes, food, furniture, news paper- it was all strewn about like a hurricane had gone through the whole damn house.

Your eyes flitted about the room, and Izuku cleared his throat “s-so uhm..Mrs. L/n, ri-?”

“Ms.” You corrected sharply “and its Lieutenant to you. Or detective.”

Izuku stiffened, correcting his posture as you napped at him. He felt a bead of nervous sweat prick his forehead. He cleared his throat and nodded “Lieutenant L/n” he mumbled.

You sighed and shook you head before turning to walk down a hallway.

This was gonna be hell.

Some weeks later .~•*

It had been roughly a few weeks since you and Deku began working the homicide case Saiko put you two on.

It hadn’t been as bad as you thought. It wasn’t great by any means, but it definitely could have been worse.

You and Izuku often met in quiet diners or ended up in your car, looking over evidence and going over suspects and family of the victim. He was even there for some interrogations, acting as an intimidating figure.

The case was moving along as it should, collecting tips and information and going over everything throughly.

However, what you didn’t know, was how amazing Izuku was with you. You were beautiful. So strong and intelligent with a stoic demeanor that made his heart flip in his chest.

He knew it was stupidly since you had some weird thing against him, but he couldn’t help it! I mean, had you even seen yourself!?

He saw how hard you were working to solve this case. The bags under your eyes giving you away, and it did worry him. How could your mind stay so sharp if you were always so tired?

Today, the two of you were going to spend an entire day together. Izuku’s heart raced at the prospect. He shook his head as he stood in line at the coffee place, his cap on along with his glasses, with his head tucked down so no one recognized him.

Izuku grabbed two coffees, leaving and getting in his car. He places the cups in the cup holders and drove out of the parking lot.

As he drove, he thought. It wasn’t just you that was propelling him every day. He wanted justice for the victim. Izuku had always had a very strong sense of justice for what he thought- no- knew was right.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he thought about the girl whose blood had been shed and he frowned.

The two of you were going to solve this case.

.~•*

Izuku walked into the police station, a small smile on his face as he warmly greeted the officers. “Y/n is in her office” one of the officers called, making Izukus cheeks flush as he smiled “great! Thank you!”

He walked down the hall, before spotting your open door. Izuku lightly knocked and peeped his head in the door. “Hey” he greeted softly.

You looked up, cigarette in one hand and files in the other “Deku.” You greeted with a nod. Your eyes eventually landed on the coffee cups in his hands and you raised a brow.

Izuku looked down at his hands before brightening “oh! I brought you coffee! I hope you like it!” He walked over and placed one of the cups on your desk.

You looked at the coffee with slightly raised brows. He thought of you? You looked up at him before taking the coffee “thank you” you mutterwd before sipping on it.

Izuku waved off your thanks, muttering something under his breath shyly. Internally, his heart was racing. You hadn’t given him any sass or a bad attitude like you usually did! Was this progress?

You glanced up at his face and sighed “Sit”

Maybe a little progress?

Izuku nodded and quickly sat in front of your desk, to which you sighed “not there, how are you gonna read files like that?” You muttered. You gestured to the spot next to you “over here”

Izuku’s eyes widened and he felt an embarrassment crawl up his cheeks in the form of a blush. “Oh- right- sorry” he quickly scooted over to you, moving his chair to sit next to yours.

His heart fluttered a bit as your cologne hit his nose. It wasn’t perfume, it was cologne. Musky with a hint of citrus.

You began to talk about some potential suspects, gesturing to different pictures. He nodded along, trying his best to focus, but his eyes did flick over to your lips every once in a while.

You glanced over, your lips parted as you locked eyes with him. Izuku hadn’t realized how much he’d been leaning in until he saw how close your lips were to touching his.

The both of you lingered, before you looked away and he leaned out of your space “sorry! Sorry-“ he quickly stuttered, fully expecting you to snap at him.

You however, sipped your coffee and blushed a little, hiding it from his gaze as you looked away “it’s fine.” You mumbled, feeling a bit docile today.

Huh..

Weird.

.~•*

Later that day, the two of you were driving in your car. You had Izukus window down a bit, and your elbow on the lip of your car door. Your slender fingers on the wheel as you drove.

“I think we’re on the right track. Just like with-“ your speech was cut off by a stomach growling. You looked over to Izuku, who was red in the face.

“Oh- crap-“ he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, and you didn’t know if it was his sheepish rambling he did after his realization, or if you were just in a good mood, but you glanced over at him, not only did you smile a little, but you laughed.

His eyes widened at your chuckle, and his heart pounded in his chest.

He’d never seen you smile before.

Never heard you laugh before.

But he could really get used to that sound.

.~•*

Time seemed to fly by, and day by day, you warmed up to Izuku, even regarding him as ‘Midoriya’ every once in a while. The two of you had grown further in the case as well, and you were so close to solving it. You’d narrowed down the list of suspects to 2 men, and the evidence was wracking up.

You and Izuku had been busting your asses to solve this case, and things were going smoothly despite the setbacks- and there were a few.

Both of you started to spend more time together, grabbing dinner, lunch or coffee more often. You really lightened up to Izuku, and he you. Except, you kept getting this weird pulling feeling when you were around him.

You didn’t understand it, he just looked so different to you know. His sense of justice and determination to solve the homicide on your hands, his curls, his laugh, smile, his boyish cheeks with freckles and dimples..

What was this feeling..?

.~•*

As of now, it was dark, the two of you in your car parked in the parking lot of a closed down gas station. You each had take out in your laps. You were telling some random story from high school, the window open as you smoked lazily with your cigarette.

“Christ- yeah. His name was Danny, and he was a total ass.” You chuckled, a sound Izuku could never get enough of.

He smiled and laughed a bit, some rice stuffed in one of his cheeks “yeah! With what you told me, he sounds like it!” Izuku agreed with a bit of a mouthful.

You gave him a look and snorted before rolling your eyes “Christ, swallow your food.” You glanced at the sauce on his lip and sighed “you’re so messy”

He blushed and quickly wiped his jaw, chuckling after he swallowed his bite of rice. “Ah! Sorry!” He smiled sheepishly. Damn that boyish smile and his stupid cute curls and-

You shook away those thoughts before sighing.

Izuku hummed before smiling softly down at his take out that you bought his mind pacing in his head as he tried to think of what to say. “Thanks for buying dinner, lieutenant-”

“Y/n”

Izuku blinked as he stared at you for a second “e-excuse me?” He mumbled, his brain a bit lost. Were you correcting him?

“Just call me Y/n.” You said calmly, though your hands were clammy. Your eyes glanced over to Izuku. He was red in the face and smiling softly.

“Got it..Y/n” he murmured to you with a gentle tone.

You looked over at him, and he looked over at you.

The streets were silent..

The world seemed to stop as the two of you gazed into each other’s eyes.

Izuku placed his elbow on the center console and leaned in closer. You followed suit, not in control of your actions as you cupped his cheeks and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

You and Izuku stayed in that kiss for a moment, his hands coming up to gently cup your cheeks.

As your lips parted, your eyes slowly fluttered open and your hands gently moved down to his neck.

The two of you just sat there, before you looked away from him. “Sorry..I don’t know what came over me” you muttered, to which Izuku shook his head and smiled softly down at you “d-don’t apologize.”

You glanced at him, before the two of you pulled away.

Oh boy..

More months later.~•*

Since the kiss in the car, the two of you had been less professional outside of work. Using first names and being a bit affectionate with your words and actions.

That wasn’t all of the good that had began to come from him..

.~•*

You had been in the courtroom with Izuku and the rest of the prosecution team. It’d been months since the two of you had been paired together for this case, and now you were sitting in the courtroom about to convict the two men who took a life of a teen girl.

You were tense, Izuku noticed. You’d been so worried about gathering the evidence, organizing everything perfectly to lock them up for life with no possibility of parole. You’d been smoking so much more recently.

He gently placed his hand on your bouncing knee, making you look at him and his soft smile.

You sighed softly and looked up as the judge and jury came back to the room.

The judge sat down and let out a sigh. After a bit of talk, he cut to the chase.

“For the murder of Sakiea Kento, the two of you will be serving each a life sentence, along with 37 years for destruction with evidence, with no possibility of parole.”

A weight lifted off of your chest and you smiled softly, clapping with everyone else in the courtroom.

Izuku smiled and gently gripped your knee “you did it.” He whispered over to you.

You simply chucjled and shook your head, standing with the rest of the crowd and Izuku. “We did it” you corrected.

He smiled softly, his chest swelling with affection and relief.

They brought justice to the victim.

.~•*

The police station was holding a party to celebrate the long case coming to an end. Izuku however, couldn’t find you anywhere.

He stepped out onto the roof and hummed softly as he saw you standing there. “Y/n..?”He called out.

You looked over and sighed, fatigue and something else in your eyes “Midoriya. You should be down with the others.” You mumbled.

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly “ditto. So what are you doing up here?” He walked over to you and leaned against the railing next to you.

“Thinking” you replied softly, your hair fluttering gently in the breeze as you spoke. “About the girl…I wish there was more I could do.” You admitted.

Izuku nodded and rubbed his arm “you did everything you could. You couldn’t prevent her from being killed..but you brought her justice..that’s all that matters in the end.”

You glanced over at him with a tired look “she was a child” you muttered, a tear slowly welling in your eye.

Izuku stiffened before cupping your cheek “hey- hey hey hey- don’t cry..” he thumbed away your tears with his calloused fingers, sighing softly.

You let out a shaky breath and looked up at him.

Your eyes told hin everything. He leaned down and softly kissed your lips.

You gently cupped Izukus cheeks and let out a soft sigh into your kiss, a soft hum of pleasure leaving her throat.

Once the two of you broke from you kiss, you smiled. You turned and looked away from his face, before pulling back. “Damn you and your lips.” You muttered.

He smiled as he watched you grab your pack of cigarettes. He put his hand over yours “you should try and quit smoking, you know.”

You glanced down at his hand, then at the cigarettes. A warm feeling rose in your chest as you sighed and smiled.

“Yeah..you’re right.”

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IM SO DAMN TIRED ITS 12:37 AND IVE BEEN GONE SINCE 7:00 AM AAAA

⋆˙⟡Drunken confessions. Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader.⟡⋆˙

Warnings; swearing, alcohol, suggestive themes

Thought of this randomly. Enjoy lovelies.~*

Masterlist

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You stood off to the side in the 3A dorm commons, a cup of punch in your hand that you’ve had since the beginning of the party.

You weren’t a huge fan of parties. Not that you weren’t social- that wasn’t the problem. You’d known these people since your first year of UA, you all were tight knit.

It wasn’t the people there, it was the music, the heat- the way your head pounded thanks to the dim lighting, contrasting with the bright LED’s strewn about.

You sighed softly and rubbed your eyes, trying to ebb away the throbbing behind them, only for the loud ass music to destroy your progress.

You only glanced up at the sight of Bakugou yelling obscenities to the choice of music, his speech slurred and his party wear disheveled.

A sigh slipped your lips as you have a deadpan to the drunken blonde. It wasn’t rocket science to figure out who’d spiked the punch, hence why you cling to the one cup you’d had at the very beginning of the party.

You didn’t like to drink- you didn’t like being drunk, in your opinion, it was a not so great feeling.

Deciding you’d had enough of the constant singing and loud bass from the music, you wandered off, placing your cup on a random table.

The halls were still faintly filled with the sound of the party, as you slipped out. The air was warm and soothing against your skin. Early June was so forgiving in it weather.

You closed your eyes and sucked in a slow breath, smiling softly at the way the fresh air brought some clarity to your foggy brain.

The peace was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and closing behind you. Your nose caught the scent of alcohol, and you turned, your eyes widening when you saw who stumbled out of the door.

“Izuku?” You asked, in disbelief at his state.

His hair was messier than usual, and his cheeks were bright red. His eyes were a bit lidded and his clothes were a bit wrinkled “oh! H-hey Y-Y/n!”

He smiled and walked staggered over to the railing of the patio. He stood next to you and looked up at the sky, trying not to appear as drunk as he was “p-pretty night..hic..”

You looked over at him with concern, but pushed it away to look up “isn’t it?” You murmured.

Izuku peeled his eyes away from the sky to stare at you “yeah..very beautiful” he murmured, a goofy grin spreading on his boyish face.

You glanced over and chuckled, raising a brow “why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, placing your arms on the railing and resting your chin in your palm.

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck and looked to the side, blushing brightly. He was drunk, and his tongue was more loose than usual, he felt a bit more shy, but also had a bit more confidence? Maybe it was just foolish assurance of himself.

“B-because- hic -you’re…you look..you’re very pretty..”

Your eyes widened a bit as you heard his drunken words. You looked away and bit your cheek, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. “You’re just saying that because you’re drunk” you insisted, hoping your words were wrong.

Izuku let out a huff, smiling a bit. He looked a bit shy still as he fiddled with his shoulder length curls “am not..” he replied softly.

You looked over at him and placed a hand on your blushing cheek. “So you really think I’m beautiful?” You murmured, eyeing him from the side. Your heart gently fluttered in your chest at the timid look Izuku carried on his expression.

He continued to fiddle, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as his drunken mind tried to come up with something “y-yes..Y/n..you’re so pretty..”

You felt another wave of heat rush to your face and up to your ears. Here he was; Deku, the ridiculously strong and stupidly beautiful hero-in-training, with his shoulder length curls and freckled cheeks, his skin almost sparkling in the moonlight- and his eyes.

You looked off to the side and chuckled softly “well..you’re pretty cute yourself..” was your drink spiked? Hell you didn’t know, but you found words leaving you before you thought about them.

His eyes widened, and he looked off to the side “y-you can’t just say that..Y/n” Izuku mumbled shyly. He glanced over at you, feeling as if his body was moving on its own as he shuffled a bit closer.

You quickly looked over at him, blushing a bit more as he got closer. “Why not? It’s true..” you mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck as you turned to face him, stepping a bit closer yourself. “You’re really attractive..Izuku..”

Izuku’s cheeks, those freckled cheeks with his stupid dimples that made you swoon, reddened. He loved the way you said his name. After he’d saved your life from a villain in your second year, you two agreed to use first names, and Christ did he love it.

His stomach fluttered with butterflies as he stepped closer as well “th-thank you..you have no idea how much that means to me” he slurred out. His brain was foggy, and when he grabbed you by your hips, he barely registered it.

You gasped as he pulled you closer, sligjtly stumbling at the sudden movement. “Shit! Izu-“ you were cut off as you tripped over his foot, stumbling forward and grabbing his hip.

Your hand found the wall behind him, and his back landed with a soft thud.

Izuku looked up at you with half lidded eyes. The two of you stared at each other, before a string pulled at your chest.

You leaned down and captured his lips in a kiss, one he hastily returned, his fingers combing through your hair as soft whimpers and feminine sounds left him.

You softly groaned into the kiss, gently nipping and teasing his bottom lip. Izuku gasped and moaned softly into the kiss, gripping your shoulders.

The two of you sloppily made out, you trailing your hands over Izukus abdomen and chest, while he gripped your arms in his hands, trembling.

It was a hot minute before you pulled away, dazed and flushed. Your cheeks bright red and eyes half lidded. Izuku’s eyes fluttered open as he looked up at you.

“Izuku..” you murmured softly, your heart racing in your chest. “I like you” he mumbled “a-a lot- I’ve liked for you so long- I-“ he ran his fingers through his hair shakily as his words slurred a bit. His mind was foggy and his speech was a bit incoherent. He mumbled, looking up at you shyly.

You smiled at his drunk babbling, your heart squealing at how red he was. “Izuku, you’re alright” you gently stroked his cheek and spoke softly “I like you too”

Izuku’s eyes widened and his heart sped up “you..do..?” His tipsy brain couldn’t fully grasp the concept of you actually returning his feelings.

Tears welled up in his eyes and his bottom lip quivered “y-you like me?”

You stiffened, then smiled and gently cupped his cheeks, wiping away his tears with your thumbs “Izu, yes, I like you, okay? I’ve liked you since we were stupid first years.”

He hiccuped and hugged you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder. You let out a sigh. This bulky teen boy was clinging onto you and crying his eyes out like a baby.

God you were head over heels. His tears didn’t even bother you. You loved him for who he is, tears and all.

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

YIPEEE finally finished this one. Enjoy cuties 🫶🏻💚

MY INTRO POST <3

Welcome to my blog! My name is Aaron, and I write for fun. I mostly do my hero academia fanfiction, one-shots, and occasionally TWD videogame. so, you can expect all that.

I will write certain kinks such as Praise Degradation Breeding Choking Hair pulling Light impact play Roleplay Threesome And much more!

I will not write Feet Scat Vomit CNC DDLG Incest piss play etc.

If any of this makes you uncomfortable then please don't click on the stories with these tags! If you don't mind, then go right ahead and enjoy~

Thank you so much for checking out my blog and enjoy your stay, little dove~

🌺💜SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING 💜🌺

I am, of course, very grateful for any attention anyone gives me! 😬 so THANK YOU SO MUCH to these mutuals who continue to support me in all of my very random endeavors!!!

@cai-yue ! @blackmonitor ! @guestiguess ! @anastasiiaosypova ! @ele-millennial-weirdo ! @i-want-to-marry-cedf-officer ! @owlpartytime ! @hobbit0fhobbiton ! @mysticalgalaxysalad ! @myevilmouse ! @empress-violetlight !

I see you and you all are wonderful !

So like, I’ve been meaning to hop onto my computer, where I’m logged on to AO3, so I can comment on a bunch of your fics. Particularly your original one. But I keep forgetting to, so I’ll just do it here 😊

I adored your original fic. Power imbalances (especial evil or drastic ones) are my absolute guilty pleasure. Plus your smut was top quality!!

thank you so much 🥹 !! I’m so glad people like my stories… I think my very, very favorite trope is the dark villain who isn’t actually… and I’m still wringing the shit out of that one hard, in every story I’ve written since, I think, lol. The big scary guy, the anti-villain who does bad things for a good cause, and then he cuddles the shit out of you (and fucks you) that gets me going non-stop. And I’m so glad you enjoy my smut too because I don’t know wtf I’m doing there, just writing what I like, or what I’m feeling at the time I guess 😬 (and trying to make it not suck). thanks a lot for the comment!

Thank you for the tag 😬 @i-want-to-marry-cedf-officer !

However, y’all are getting the female anime version of my demon OC because that’s the only thing in my brain right now ! ❤️‍🔥 😄 ❤️‍🔥

Next up: @handbaskethell @cyber-glitch85 @pigonart @jadesabre83

just found this on picrew! anime star wars. what would you look like in the star wars universe?

tagging: @mysticalgalaxysalad :D

The demon and the mouse 😅 love it 💖💙

17, 19, and 25 for the artist asks!

Oh, hi there! 17 Let me see... Ur inspiration...

There is a super-talented author who ALWAYS made my mind blow up. Her stories are engaging and entertaining and can turn my worst day into my best in a few hours. I can read from her fluff and smut, whichever I need atm. And the feels what I get when I read those fanfics... Sometimes I didn't even finish a chapter, I needed to stop and search for my iPad to start drawing right away! In mid-sentence! And I can't concentrate on anything till it's finished... 

There is another super-talented author who I adore, and I love every fanfic from her. She usually makes me drop everything else too, and I just need to do a fanart of her fics because they are so fun, moving, and hot 🥰 Looking at you @foreverforty2 👀💙😇 

Other sources of inspirations are the same old boring places, the comics, the books, and of course endless hours of DAYDREAMING 😇🫠

19. Rec. Art Supply I hope I understand the question 😂 Uhm... Currently, I use a 2016 iPad pro with a 1. gen apple pencil for sketches and line art, and sometimes for coloring. But the number of layers are limited there. So, I don't recommend doing anything serious. But my lovely and sweet husband lend me over his 2021 iPad pro with the 2. gen apple pencil. That's the stuff! It's fast and has plenty of power to maintain as many layers as I wish. For anything serious, I would recommend that. 

25 Piece U can't finish... uh no!

I shamefully present you this:

I would be so happy If I would finish this! But sadly, I'm unable to continue it. I tried countless times, but every time I tried to touch it, it became worse...

It's frustrating and sad at the same time, but I hope one day I'll be able to finish it!

Ty for asking! 🥰💙😈🐁

MUSIC MEME TAG GAME

Directions:  you can usually tell a lot about a person by the type of music they listen to. put your favorite playlist on shuffle and list the first ten songs then tag ten people! no skipping!

I was tagged by @cryinginmycybernetics thanks!

Here are 9 randomly from my only playlist that I think represent pretty well.

10. And my favorite song for the last long while:

Tagging 3 ppl no pressure: @handbaskethell @mysticalgalaxysalad @myevilmouse 💝💕💖

💙

Thank you

In honor of Thrawnezra week (March 7th-13th, mark your calendars lol) I made a playlist, dedicating a song to each person who has reached out or touched my artistic life in some way, especially through the tough times when anti’s seemed to get me down. When I think of all the people who reached out with love and support versus anti’s hate, the lists don’t even compare! I hope you enjoy the song I picked for you (if you don’t it just means we need to get to know each other more).  

Anti, Anti

Seize the Power by YONAKA - For anyone out there who is afraid to write what they want, out of fear of being harassed. 

None of Your Business by Salt-n-Pepper - For @labextia​

BOO HOO by Neoni, RIELL - For @diamonddove​

Therefore I Am by Billie Eillish - For @forever42​

Mean by Alyssa Reid - For that one anon with a fire tongue (I don’t know who you are but I love you). 

Obsessed by Mariah Carey - For @draculard​ (LOL, XD love you Drac)

I Spit on Your Grave by ZAND - For me (gotta have one for myself, after all)

Fighter by Christina Aguilera - For @twodragonsflying​

F** You by Lily Allen - For @cheeriosandwine​

Crazy, Mad, Insane by Beast in Black - For @hjbender​

Don’t Kill My Vibe by Sigrid - For Everyone!

Happy Thrawnezra week!

AO3 Thrawnezra Collection

-Alejandra Pizarnik, "En esta noche, en este mundo"

Hi koli i saw your request were open and was wondering if you could do a Tokyo revengers x reader (final timeline) where they have a baby and they say their first word with preferably: chifyuy, kazutora, baji, mikey, izana, rindou, shinichiro and any others you would like to include

۶ৎ. Babies First.

Tokyo Revenger Boys.

۶ৎ auth: ahhhh omg my first request in like so long, I’m actually so excited to work on this!!! Feel free to request any anime, show or movie, and any character!! :) I might make a taglist.

۶ৎ Summary: After so much back and forth to fix the feature, you’ve finally settled down—and finally had a baby. The joys of parenthood only continue and your baby says their first words.

۶ৎ: sfw | scenario | fem reader | babies/parenthood | fluff | time skipped | implied poc reader, though you could ignore the information that doesn't fit you.

۶ৎ Characters Included: Chifuyu Matsuno, Kazutora Hanemiya, Baji Keisuke, Manjiro (Mikey) Sano, Izana Kurokawa, Rindou Haitani, Shinichiro Sano, Kokonoi Hajime, Ken Ryuguji.

۶ৎChifuyu Matsuno

It’s an ordinary evening, and Chifuyu sits with the baby on his lap, his calm, logical demeanor softened by the tiny bundle in his arms. His black undercut, neatly styled, contrasts with the gentle warmth that radiates from him as he softly coos at the little one, a sense of peace enveloping the moment. The baby’s big, curious eyes stare up at him, the faintest glimmer of recognition in their gaze.

You’re nearby, watching quietly from the kitchen, as usual, keeping a close eye on the small family gathering. The baby shifts slightly in Chifuyu’s arms, their little hands reaching out, exploring, unsure of the world but finding comfort in the familiar presence of their father.

Chifuyu looks at the baby, a tender smile creeping across his face. He’s normally so composed, always the steady one, but this… this softens him, makes him feel an unfamiliar kind of warmth. “Come on,” he murmurs softly, “say something for me.”

The baby babbles incoherently for a moment, small giggles escaping their lips as they grab hold of his finger, wrapping their tiny hand around it like it’s the most important thing in the world. Chifuyu chuckles, shaking his head softly. “You’re as stubborn as your mom,” he says under his breath, smiling at the thought of you.

Then, suddenly, the baby’s little voice breaks the silence. It’s not a full word, but there’s a clear attempt to speak. “Da-da!” the baby declares proudly, their voice high-pitched but full of delight. Chifuyu freezes for a moment, his face lighting up with surprise, a hint of pride showing in his usually calm features.

You, hearing the unexpected word, laugh softly from your spot, watching the exchange. Chifuyu’s usual composed self cracks for a brief moment as he stares down at the baby in awe. “Did… did you just say ‘Dada’?” he asks, though it’s clear he’s delighted.

The baby repeats it again, this time with even more enthusiasm, “Da-da!” Chifuyu shakes his head, a small laugh escaping his lips. “Guess I’ll take that as a victory.”

You walk over quietly, your heart swelling at the sight of Chifuyu, who’s always so composed, now with the smallest of smiles, cradling their child with complete adoration. The baby, seeing you, reaches out with their tiny arms, making a soft noise of recognition.

“Looks like you’ve got competition,” you tease, leaning against the doorframe, your voice light and playful.

Chifuyu’s face turns slightly red, his calm demeanor returning, though the smile still lingers. “It’s just a fluke,” he mutters, though it’s clear he’s overjoyed. The baby giggles again, the sound filling the room, and Chifuyu leans in, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead. “I can’t believe you said ‘Dada’ first,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of affection.

The baby, oblivious to the momentous occasion, just giggles again, content in the safety of their father’s arms. It’s a simple, tender moment, but to Chifuyu, it’s everything.

۶ৎKazutora Hanemiya

The air is still, heavy with the calm that comes with the evening as Kazutora sits on the couch, a small, fragile smile on his face as he looks down at the baby resting in his arms. His long, black hair, streaked with yellow, falls lazily over his shoulders, the strands a contrast to the tenderness with which he holds the child. There’s an unfamiliar peace in his expression, a quiet moment of solace after all the chaos that’s filled his life. His usually volatile demeanor seems distant as he looks at the little one, their soft breaths the only sound between them.

You’re just a few steps away, your presence like a gentle echo in the background, keeping watch as Kazutora carefully adjusts the baby in his arms, the kind of delicate handling that surprises even him. He’s never been one for softness, always pushing against the world with a hardness that left little room for gentleness—until now. He looks down, eyes tracing the baby’s tiny hands, the little fingers wrapped around his own with surprising strength.

The baby stirs, their wide eyes blinking up at him, and Kazutora’s breath catches slightly in his chest. For a moment, it’s as if everything else—the turmoil, the chaos, the memories—fades into the background, leaving only this quiet exchange between father and child.

Kazutora’s voice is soft, almost hesitant as he speaks to the baby, a far cry from the manic energy he once carried. “Hey, little one… can you say something for me?” he murmurs, his voice filled with a quiet kind of longing, though it’s not for the world outside—it’s for this fragile connection he never thought he would have.

The baby, in their own way, tries to respond, making gurgling noises that grow into more distinct sounds. Kazutora watches in silent anticipation, a rare, genuine smile creeping onto his face as the baby’s mouth moves again. It’s almost as if they’ve been waiting for the right moment to speak.

Then, with a bright, innocent giggle, the baby suddenly blurts out a word, though it’s not what Kazutora expected. “Dada!” they say, the sound coming out in a clear, high-pitched tone.

Kazutora freezes, his eyes wide in disbelief for a second. His heart lurches unexpectedly in his chest, and he looks down at the baby as though they’ve just given him the most precious gift. His expression softens, a deep and almost bittersweet tenderness settling in his gaze. “Dada…” he repeats under his breath, as though trying to wrap his mind around it. There’s a tremor in his voice, something raw and vulnerable that he doesn’t often let surface.

You can’t help but smile as you watch the moment unfold, the baby’s innocent giggle filling the room, unaware of the weight they’ve just placed on Kazutora’s heart. Kazutora’s fingers twitch slightly as he holds them closer, his past, his pain, his regret all swirling beneath the surface of this simple, unexpected moment.

The baby, sensing the comfort of Kazutora’s embrace, reaches up with their tiny hands, trying to grab at his face. Kazutora laughs softly, the sound foreign yet warm as he leans into the baby’s touch. “You’re gonna make me soft, huh?” he mutters, though there’s no bitterness in his words—only a quiet affection.

You step forward then, offering him a soft, knowing glance. Kazutora looks up, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, everything between the two of you seems to settle. There’s a flicker of something deeper in his gaze, something that says more than words ever could.

Kazutora’s voice breaks the silence, still low and almost tender. “I never thought I’d be here, y’know? This… this feels different.”

You smile gently, watching him with the baby in his arms, a sense of peace settling over you both. The moment is fleeting, but it’s a reminder—Kazutora, despite his past, is finding something he never thought he deserved.

۶ৎBaji Keisuke

The night is quiet, the soft hum of the streetlights casting a dim glow in the room where Baji sits, his wild, untamed jet-black hair falling to his shoulders in loose waves. His usual grin is absent for the moment, replaced by a look of calm as he watches the baby in his arms, who is squirming lightly, their little hands reaching up as if trying to make sense of the world around them. There’s an intensity in Baji’s eyes, but it’s not the usual fire of a fight—it’s something softer, something that only surfaces when he’s with his family.

You stand by the doorway, leaning against the frame, quietly watching the scene unfold. Baji, who is always full of energy, the type to jump into action at any given moment, seems almost frozen in this moment, the wild spark in his eyes replaced by a rare tenderness as he holds the baby close to his chest.

The baby gurgles softly, their small face scrunching in curiosity as they look up at him. Baji’s lips twitch into a small smile, but it’s different than his usual mischievous grin—it’s something warmer, more protective. “What’s going on in that head of yours, huh?” he murmurs, his voice low and warm, though a hint of his usual playful nature is still there.

The baby babbles in response, their little voice almost a melody as they stare at Baji with wide, innocent eyes. And then, as if on a whim, the baby utters a word. It’s clear and unambiguous, the word they’ve been practicing, but it’s not what Baji expected.

“Dada!” The word rings out, not perfectly clear, but undeniably present.

Baji’s eyes widen, and for a moment, his usual grin falters, replaced by something almost vulnerable. He looks down at the baby, his hand resting gently against their tiny back, and the slightest breath escapes him. His fingers twitch as if unsure how to react to the sudden surge of emotion he didn’t anticipate. His heart pounds, a rush of warmth flooding through him, and despite all his bravado, there’s a crack in the tough exterior.

You smile, stepping a little closer to them, your heart swelling at the sight. “Looks like you’ve got a little fan there,” you tease softly.

Baji’s grin slowly returns, though it’s softer now, not the usual wild energy that so often defines him, but something more intimate. He leans down, his sharp canine teeth flashing briefly as he chuckles under his breath, the sound light and full of affection. “Yeah, I guess so.” He says it with his usual swagger, but it’s evident that something about the moment has shifted. This isn’t a victory he expected, but it’s a victory that matters more than any battle.

The baby reaches up toward his face, their tiny fingers brushing against his cheek, and Baji’s heart skips a beat. He looks at you for a moment, a wordless exchange between the two of you, before he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead. “Good job,” he mutters, his voice soft but steady.

You can’t help but watch the moment unfold with a quiet admiration. Baji, the wild, adrenaline-fueled force of nature, has just experienced something that slows him down, something that pulls him out of the chaos of the world and into a simple, pure connection. The baby giggles, their tiny hands grasping for his hair, and Baji laughs too, the sound genuine and full of joy.

For a brief moment, the world outside seems distant, and all that matters is the little family in that room—the wild heart of Baji, softened and made whole in the presence of his child.

۶ৎManjiro (Mikey) Sano

Mikey sits in the quiet of the living room, the soft hum of the clock the only sound besides the gentle breath of the baby in his arms. His short, dark hair is parted neatly at the middle, the weight of the world outside this moment temporarily forgotten. The familiar carefree energy that Mikey is known for seems absent now, replaced by a tenderness he rarely shows. He’s holding the little one close, his hands steady and secure around them, the once-unshakable pillar of Toman now softened by something unexpected.

The baby stirs in his arms, their small face scrunching in confusion as they try to adjust to the world around them. Mikey watches them with a faint smile, though there’s something more complex behind his eyes. The carefree grin that usually defines him is replaced by a quiet focus, a vulnerability that he seldom allows others to see. His heart is heavy with thoughts of the past, of everything he’s lost, but in this moment, the baby offers him something pure, something he hasn’t had in a long time—peace.

The baby’s tiny hand reaches up, grasping for the fabric of his suit, their tiny fingers curling in and out as if trying to touch something they don’t fully understand yet. Mikey’s breath catches in his chest, his gaze softening. He can feel the warmth of their small body, the innocent trust they place in him without question, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of his own burdens lifts just slightly.

“Mama?” The baby says, the word coming out softly but unmistakably.

Mikey freezes. The sound is far from perfect, the baby’s voice still nasally and unsure, but it’s clear enough, and Mikey’s heart skips a beat. He blinks down at the child, his expression flickering between surprise and a strange tenderness, something unfamiliar and soft that he never expected to experience. His hand twitches, fingers tightening around the baby instinctively as if protecting them from the world outside.

You, standing nearby, catch his gaze, the understanding between the two of you unspoken. Mikey clears his throat, the faintest hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he glances at you, trying to regain some of his usual bravado. “Guess that’s not the word I was hoping for,” he says, his tone playful, though there’s a depth to it, a warmth he’s not used to showing.

The baby reaches up again, this time grasping Mikey’s finger, their touch delicate yet insistent. Mikey smiles softly, the usual coldness in his eyes replaced with something warmer, something that speaks to the weight of the love he’s learning to give. “It’s okay, little one,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Maybe next time, huh?”

He presses a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead, his lips lingering just a little longer than necessary. The moment feels suspended in time, as if the world around him has faded and all that matters is this—the small, fragile life in his arms and the quiet peace they’ve brought him, in spite of everything he’s carried.

You step closer, watching the scene with a soft smile of your own. Mikey looks up at you then, his expression still soft, but now there’s a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. He may have once carried a darkness that threatened to consume him, but here, now, with his child in his arms, that darkness feels far away, as if for a brief moment, he can just be… Mikey. The Mikey who is a child at heart, who’s capable of tenderness and love even amidst the weight of his past.

With a soft chuckle, Mikey leans back slightly, his hand still holding the baby close as he looks at you with a playful glint in his eyes. “You heard that, right?” he asks, his voice teasing but there’s something vulnerable in it too. “They said ‘mama.’ Guess I’m off the hook for now.”

You laugh, the sound light and full of warmth. Mikey’s grin widens just a little, and though it’s not the wild grin of a fighter or leader, it’s something just as genuine—something that feels like a promise, a reassurance that even with all the darkness he’s faced, he’s finding light again. And maybe, just maybe, this little one is part of that light.

۶ৎIzana Kurokawa

Izana sits in the dimly lit room, the soft hum of a guitar string resonating in the air. His large purple eyes, usually cold and calculating, are softened by the warmth of the baby in his arms. His wavy hair falls gently around his face, the strands catching the light as he adjusts the baby’s tiny body against his chest, the faint scent of plants and the soft ripple of water from the fish tank nearby offering a peaceful backdrop to an otherwise chaotic life. He had never imagined this—holding a child, one so small, so fragile in his arms. His usual detachment feels muted, replaced by a strange sense of responsibility, a sensation he’s never quite allowed himself to experience before.

The baby stirs in his arms, eyes blinking open and gaze unfocused, their small hands reaching out in curiosity. Izana’s usual composure doesn’t waver, but the faintest trace of tenderness lingers in his gaze as he watches the child, something unfamiliar surfacing beneath the layers of bitterness and coldness he’s built over the years.

The baby makes a small noise, a soft whine, their lips twitching as they try to vocalize something. Izana tilts his head slightly, his eyes narrowing, waiting. His fingers gently caress the baby’s back, an instinctive gesture of care that surprises even him. In the silence of the room, a soft and tentative word escapes the baby’s lips. It’s not quite clear, but the intention is unmistakable.

“Dada.”

Izana freezes. His grip on the guitar tightens for a brief moment, his eyes blinking as he processes the sound, the word hanging in the air like a sudden, unexpected shift in his world. It’s simple—just one word—but for someone like Izana, who has spent most of his life surrounded by cold, violence, and manipulation, hearing such a soft and innocent utterance stirs something deep within him.

A flash of his past flashes through his mind—the loneliness, the bitterness that once consumed him. He had never felt a connection to anyone, certainly not like this. He had always been the one to push people away, to make himself unapproachable, but here, in this moment, the baby’s small hand wraps around his finger, their soft grip a reminder of something pure, something he had lost long ago—the ability to care without expecting anything in return.

He exhales slowly, his face betraying nothing but the faintest softness that only the baby could elicit from him. His hand gently lifts the child, their eyes still wide with curiosity, before he leans in close, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead.

“Dada, huh?” Izana murmurs, his voice quiet but not without a hint of amusement, the corners of his lips turning upward in a small, unexpected smile. It’s a rare sight, one that doesn’t appear often, but in the quiet presence of the baby, it feels more natural than anything he’s ever known. “Guess I’m not as bad as I thought,” he adds softly, almost to himself.

You, standing nearby, watch the scene unfold with a knowing smile. Izana doesn’t often allow anyone to witness such moments, but here, now, with the child in his arms, the pieces of his past—the anger, the bitterness—seem to fade into the background, if only for a moment. Izana looks up at you then, his eyes softer than usual, as if silently asking for your approval, for reassurance that he’s doing this right. That he’s not as lost as he often feels.

He doesn’t say anything more, but the warmth in his eyes speaks volumes. The man who once sought power, control, and dominance has now found something far more valuable—a sense of purpose, a bond he never thought he would have. As he looks down at the baby, his grip tightening slightly around them.

۶ৎRindou Haitani

Rindou sat on the floor of the living room, legs stretched out, his back against the couch, the afternoon sun casting long shadows through the windows. His pinkish-purple mullet, with its dark blue roots and tips, was damp from a shower, strands falling messily around his face. He had a lazy, almost indifferent expression as he stared at his phone, absently scrolling, but his free hand rested on the baby seated between his legs, offering a steady support as they clumsily played with a soft, squeaky toy.

The baby babbled, gnawing on the corner of the plush thing, drool soaking it thoroughly. Rindou, ever stoic, just watched, raising an eyebrow whenever the squeak got too loud. His black stud earrings caught the light, a stark contrast to the rough Bonten insignia tattoo inked boldly across his neck.

“You’re gonna drown in your own spit,” Rindou muttered, lifting the baby gently by their underarms, pulling them up into a wobbly stand on his thighs. The child stared back at him, wide-eyed, chubby cheeks flushed. Their little fists grabbed at his shirt, seeking balance, and for a moment, there was a quiet exchange—a softness that rarely found its way into Rindou’s life.

The baby blinked, their gaze fixed on Rindou’s face with intense concentration, like they were processing something far too big for their small brain. And then, out of nowhere, they let out a small, clear sound.

“Dada.”

Rindou froze.

The word was soft, tentative, but unmistakable. His blue-gray eyes snapped to the baby’s face, as though he wasn’t sure if he’d actually heard it. His normally stoic expression cracked, a rare flicker of surprise flashing across his sharp features.

“What…?”

The baby blinked again, almost as if testing the sound, and with a little more confidence, repeated it.

“Dada.”

This time, it wasn’t a fluke.

For a solid five seconds, Rindou just stared. The usual snarky, blasé attitude was nowhere to be found—his mouth slightly open, the baby still gripping his shirt tightly, unaware they’d just done something monumental.

A scoff broke the silence, but it was soft, almost disbelieving. “… No way.”

He tried to play it cool—but there was no hiding the way his lips twitched, threatening to pull into a smile.

“You’ve got shitty taste in first words,” he murmured, lifting the baby higher until their noses nearly touched. The baby, delighted with their new word, kicked their legs happily and repeated, “Dada,” with even more enthusiasm, like they knew they’d hit gold.

Rindou exhaled sharply through his nose, something warm and unfamiliar blooming in his chest. He glanced toward the hallway, as if making sure no one else was around to witness this moment of weakness.

“Yeah, yeah,” he whispered, giving in as he brushed his nose against the baby’s cheek, the smallest, almost imperceptible grin forming on his lips. “I hear you. I’m your ‘Dada,’ huh?”

The baby squealed, a high-pitched giggle, and Rindou couldn’t help the quiet chuckle that escaped him. He was used to fights, to blood and bruises, to commanding fear—but this? This was different. And for once, he didn’t mind losing. Not to them. Not to this.

۶ৎShinichiro Sano

It was a quiet afternoon at the Sano bike shop, the scent of oil and metal lingering in the warm air. The faint sound of a wrench clinking against the concrete floor echoed through the open garage, where Shinichiro Sano sat cross-legged, lazily working on a motorcycle engine. His unkempt black hair stuck out in random directions, and a cigarette hung loosely from his lips, the thin tendrils of smoke curling upward.

He wasn’t in any rush—never was, really. Dressed in his usual pearl-white shirt and light-washed jeans, a jacket lazily tied around his waist, he looked as effortlessly relaxed as ever. A silver chain peeked out from beneath his collar, catching the sunlight every now and then.

Nearby, his daughter sat on a thick blanket, surrounded by a mess of soft toys and teething rings. She was barely old enough to crawl properly, but that didn’t stop her from making every effort to squirm toward her father, her tiny hands grabbing at the air.

Shinichiro glanced over at her, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his thin lips. “You getting bored over there, sweetheart?” His voice was raspy, warm, and effortlessly gentle as he set the wrench down and wiped his hands on a nearby rag.

She responded with a string of baby babble, half-formed sounds that made no sense but filled the space with life. He watched her, enchanted by the simplest things—how her little fingers curled and uncurled, how her eyes, a perfect mirror of his own dull black ones, lit up every time he spoke.

“Hold on, hold on. I’m comin’.” Shinichiro stubbed out his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray, rising to his feet with a lazy stretch. He scooped her up effortlessly, holding her against his chest, her small hand immediately tangling itself in the fabric of his shirt.

“You smell like motor oil,” he murmured with a chuckle, kissing the top of her head despite the mess on his hands. “Not exactly the ideal dad scent, huh?”

As he swayed gently, rocking her out of instinct more than anything, the baby stared up at him, wide-eyed and thoughtful, her chubby cheeks flushed pink from the warmth of the afternoon. She blinked slowly, as though studying him, her tiny mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something.

And then, soft as a whisper, it happened.

“…Da…da…”

Shinichiro froze.

The word was faint, breathy—so delicate he almost thought he’d imagined it. His heart skipped a beat, a strange, unfamiliar warmth surging through his chest.

“…What?” His voice came out quiet, almost disbelieving, as he pulled her back slightly to look at her properly. “What’d you just say?”

The baby blinked again, her expression pure and innocent, and as if sensing his awe, she tried again, this time stronger, more confident.

“Dada.”

Shinichiro felt something inside him break wide open.

He laughed—not his usual lazy, carefree laugh, but something softer, shakier. “You serious right now?”

Her tiny hand reached up, grabbing at the silver chain around his neck, and for once, Shinichiro felt completely helpless—in the best way possible.

“You’re not supposed to say that yet…” he whispered, though the grin on his face betrayed him completely. His thumb brushed gently over her round cheek, his eyes shining with a tenderness so deep it made his chest ache.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m your ‘Dada,’” he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as he breathed her in. “Lucky me.”

The bike shop, the tools, the cigarette smoke—none of it mattered in that moment. All he knew was the weight of his daughter in his arms, her tiny voice calling out to him, grounding him in a way nothing else ever had.

And for the first time in a long while, Shinichiro felt like he truly had everything he could ever want.

۶ৎKokonoi Hajime

The city skyline glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Kokonoi’s penthouse, casting long shadows over the sleek, minimalist living room. The distant hum of traffic blended with the soft jazz playing from the speaker, creating a calm, almost surreal atmosphere.

Koko sat cross-legged on the floor, dressed down in black sweatpants and a plain white shirt, his silver-white hair loose around his shoulders. He had a glass of whiskey beside him — untouched — as he watched their daughter with that same quiet intensity he reserved for high-stakes meetings… except this was different.

She was sitting in the middle of a plush play mat, surrounded by a chaotic scatter of toys, a stuffed bunny half-chewed, and a colorful book she had zero interest in. Her soft hair fell over her round cheeks, and she looked up at him with wide, thoughtful eyes — eyes that mirrored her mother’s so distinctly that Koko sometimes forgot how to breathe when she stared at him like that.

“Pretty, aren’t you?” he murmured, a faint smile touching the corner of his lips as he leaned back on his hands. “Got that from your mom… lucky kid.”

She babbled in response, smacking the bunny against the floor with impressive determination, her little brows furrowed as though she were solving some great mystery.

Koko’s gaze softened, a rare warmth breaking through his usual cool composure.

“You’re really giving that thing a hard time,” he remarked, watching her with a mix of amusement and fascination. “What did it ever do to you?”

She paused, blinking up at him, lips slightly parted, as though she was about to say something… but instead, she dropped the toy with a dramatic flair and crawled toward him, tiny hands smacking against the polished hardwood floor.

He sat up straighter, heart giving an odd little skip — not that he’d ever admit that.

“You comin’ over here?” he asked quietly, more to himself than her.

She reached him, pulling herself up with clumsy determination, her chubby fingers grabbing a fistful of his shirt as she balanced on unsteady legs. Koko’s hands hovered near her waist, ready to catch her if she wobbled too much.

And then, she looked up at him… and with a small, clear voice, said:

“Da…da.”

Koko blinked.

For a moment, he thought he’d imagined it. The word was soft, delicate, but unmistakable. His throat tightened, the glass of whiskey forgotten entirely.

“What… what did you say?” he asked, his voice lower now, almost a whisper.

She stared up at him with the same serious expression, as though this wasn’t a monumental moment — just another part of her day.

“Dada.”

The second time, it hit him harder.

A sharp inhale, and then — to his surprise — a soft laugh escaped him, the sound rough and disbelieving.

“You—” He ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to ground himself. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

She, of course, said nothing. Just continued to stare at him, her tiny hands gripping his shirt like she had no intention of letting go.

“First word, huh?” Koko said, his voice softer now, almost fragile. “And it’s me…”

Something in his chest ached — something he hadn’t felt in years. He thought of how, for so long, he’d believed everything important in his life slipped through his fingers, no matter how tightly he held on. But here she was… holding onto him.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he whispered, brushing a gentle hand over her soft hair.

She leaned forward, her head resting against his chest in a way that made his heart squeeze painfully.

“I should tell your mom,” he murmured, though he made no move to get up. “She’s gonna want to hear this…”

But he didn’t. He just stayed there, holding her, listening to the quiet rhythm of her breathing, as though he was afraid to break the spell.

“Dada,” she mumbled again, sleepily this time, as if testing the word.

Koko closed his eyes for a long moment, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head, the faintest smile on his lips.

“Yeah…” he whispered. “I’m your Dada.”

And for once, there was nothing else he needed.

۶ৎKen Ryuguji

The rain tapped lightly against the windows, casting soft shadows across the small but cozy apartment. The scent of warm tea and baby powder lingered in the air, a comforting mix that made the place feel lived-in — loved.

Draken sat on the floor, back against the couch, his long legs stretched out, and their daughter nestled comfortably between them. His strong, calloused hands were gentle as he helped her balance, her tiny fingers grabbing at the hem of his patterned jacket with the determination of someone on a mission.

“Steady now, princess,” he murmured, his deep voice softer than usual, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched her.

She had her mother’s eyes — there was no denying it. That same soft, soulful gaze that could stop Draken in his tracks, no matter how tough he tried to act. The resemblance was almost eerie, especially when she stared up at him with that thoughtful, almost knowing expression, as if she could see right through him.

“You’re gonna be a heartbreaker, you know that?” he teased, running a hand over his buzzed undercut, the dragon tattoo on his temple stark against his skin. “Just like your mom…”

His daughter, of course, was unimpressed. She was too busy trying to pull herself up, grabbing at his jacket with clumsy determination, her chubby legs wobbling as she straightened herself.

Draken arched a brow, watching her with a mix of amusement and quiet pride. “Look at you… tough little thing,” he muttered. “Didn’t get that from her.”

She babbled something incoherent, rocking back and forth on her feet, her lips forming shapes that almost sounded like words.

“Yeah?” Draken chuckled, leaning in closer, his braid falling over his shoulder. “What are you tryin’ to tell me, huh?”

She paused then, swaying slightly before gripping his jacket tighter. For a split second, Draken thought she was about to fall — his hands twitched, ready to catch her — but she steadied herself, blinking up at him with wide, serious eyes.

And then…

“Da…da.”

Draken froze.

The word was soft, barely more than a whisper, but it hit him like a punch to the gut.

“What…?”

She said it again, clearer this time, her small voice filling the room in a way that made the air feel heavier.

“Dada.”

Draken stared at her, his heart pounding in a way he hadn’t felt since his gang days. His throat tightened, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure what to say — wasn’t sure if he could say anything at all.

“You…” He swallowed hard, his voice rougher now, a little hoarse. “You just—”

Before he could finish, she took an unsteady step forward and fell right into his chest, her tiny arms wrapping around him as best as they could.

“Dada,” she mumbled again, her voice muffled against his shirt.

And that… that broke him.

Draken closed his eyes, his large hand cradling the back of her head as he held her close, his thumb brushing over her soft hair. The warmth of her small body against his made his chest ache in a way he wasn’t prepared for — a deep, protective kind of love that scared him more than any fight ever had.

“Yeah…” he whispered after a long moment, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, his voice softer than it had ever been. “I’m your dad…”

He stayed like that for a while, holding her, feeling her small breaths against him. He didn’t call for her mom — not yet.

This moment was his. Just for now.

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

just gota make it to friday

i have so much work todo but i’ll just procrastinate and watch movies then eventually go to bed around 2 when everything is done🩷

went shopping over the weekend!

I’m in debt!!⭐️ ⭐️

but atleast i have cute clothes😁😁

Recently my spotify has been playing my top songs from 2020-2022 and it PAINS ME TO MY CORE. It’s so crazy that i still know all the lyrics from almost 5- 3 years ago

“Sage you’re so basic”

YK WHAT? I AM BASIC.

I am a little white girl who listens to Taylor Swift, Olivia Rodrigo, Sabrina Carpenter, and Harry Styles on a daily basis.

I read classic literature books and have lululemon and brandy melville clothes and nike shoes who loves starbucks and has uggs and wears them everyday

BUT I LOVE IT SO IT DOESNT MATTER IF IM “BASIC”

shout out to my 5 followers💪

everytime i tell my mom i listen to a band from the 80s-90s somehow SHE LOVED THE BAND IN HS like wdym you loved The Smiths and The Cure while you were a teenager???

guys the “just got to make it to Friday” mindset ain’t working i think i need to like disappear to a tropical island for a few months and then ill be back🏝️

i love this song for some reason

Is there a song that has the same vibe like Old money??????

Ultraviolence>>>>>>

Whats the female version of a man cave because i want a woman cave

One of my fave story ideas. I hope I get around to expanding on it!

Short Story- Not Another Paranormal Romance: By Adinelle Ggreeo

'The new boy was a demon straight from hell, who came to corrupt their school and she was the only one who was trying to do something about it.'

Fourteen-year-old Gabriella Pierre seems to be the only person at her school not completely enamoured by the supernaturally beautiful Cyrus Hinds, the new boy in their year. A simple touch of hands reveals to her an insidious visage and dark designs now intent on destroying her life.

'What better way for a demon to mess with a teenage girl than to 'fall in love' with her?'

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You can also read my stories here:

Archive Of Our Own

Fictionpress

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The new boy was a demon. She knew that it was hard to believe. Her friends didn't even believe her when she tried to tell them! They laughed, thinking she had a crush on the thing and was trying to deny it! The new boy–thing–creature, calling itself Cyrus was a demon straight from hell, who came to corrupt their school and she was the only one who was trying to do something about it.

He came to their school in the middle of the second term, an awkward time to transfer schools, especially secondary schools. He was placed in class 3-B as they had space from a couple of students who transferred out the years before. Gabriella was in class 3-D, so she didn't see or hear much about the new boy until lunchtime. She sat with her friends, Amaya, Kadiah and Marissa at their usual corner table in the cafeteria. Huffing softly, she listened as they gushed about him.

Amaya, being from 3-B, had all the gossip. Their usually quieter friend had a lot to say. With stars in her eyes and awe in her voice, she told them about the tall, handsome boy with deep brown skin and eyes like Brown Obsidian gems. His voice was warm and sweet like hot chocolate, his smile was as bright as diamonds and–

“He's the most beautiful boy I've ever seen!" she signed dreamily. Her wild curly hair flew around her, seeming to be taking part in her excitement and her glasses nearly fell off her face as she gestured wildly.

Gabriella huffed again.

"That's not saying much, Maya. Boys aren't that cute in the first place."

Marissa sighed in exasperation.

"Oh come on, girl. I know you have high standards when it comes to boys, but this one sounds like he would definitely surpass them!" She flicked her long plait over her shoulder, grinning mischievously.

Not this again. Gabriella rolled her eyes.

"I have zero standards for them because I expect them to always be up to no good!"

Her friends laughed good-naturedly.

"Whatever you say, Gabs," Kadiah chuckled. Her fingers were twirling one of her twists as she turned back to Amaya, who took that as her cue to continue singing praises about the new boy.

Suddenly, there was a commotion at the entrance. A small crowd was starting to form and voices were rising.

'Ahh,' she thought. 'The man of the hour is here.'

Sure enough, as the crowd parted like the red sea, the new boy came into view.

Oh wow. Gabriella felt her heart flutter a little in her chest. She frowned. It seemed Amaya wasn't exaggerating. He actually was that beautiful.

She thought he looked like one of those royal elves from the Young Adult novels the girls liked to swoon over. He was tall and trim with wide shoulders and a slim waist. The boring white shirt and purple trousers that was the boys’ uniform looked like designer wear on him. He had smooth skin with a few moles here and there and warm dark eyes. He smiled at the people around him, dazzling them with his pearly white teeth. His afro hair was cut into a fade with pentagram star designs on each side of his head. She was surprised he got away with that.

Everyone seemed to be eager to meet the new boy, practically throwing themselves in his face for him to notice them. Gabriella looked on in confusion, her face screwing up at the behaviour. What kind of circus show was this? Are they not embarrassed? These kinds of things only happened in the movies! She couldn't believe people were behaving this way. And over a boy! Sure, a very handsome boy, but still!

"Ahhhhh!" Amaya whisper-squealed. "He's coming this way!" She had latched on to Gabriella's arm squeezing and shaking her. Slapping her friend's hands away, she watched as the new boy made his way over to their table. Already a bit annoyed and not really in the mood to be nice, she spoke before the boy could open his mouth.

"What are you doing here?"

Her friends were aghast, trying to apologize to him and scold her at the same time. He waved them off, laughing softly. Her friends melted. Ugh.

"Amaya right?" he asked. Not waiting for an answer from the girl, he pulled out a sparkly pink pen from his trousers pocket, holding it out to her.

"Thanks for letting me borrow it."

Amaya took the pen reverently. Marissa and Kadiah gaze upon it as if it held the secrets to the universe. Amaya, still too shocked to say anything just nodded, still giggling.

Not missing a beat, the new boy carried on the one-sided conversation. "Are these your friends?"

That shook her back into existence. Amaya jerked, almost falling out of her chair.

"Yeah-Yes!" she almost yelled. "Th-these are my friends Marissa, Kadiah and Gabriella, who's normally really nice." She gave Gabriella an annoyed yet pleading look.

'Play nice and please don't embarrass us to death,' she seemed to say. "Everyone, this is Cyrus!"

Gabriella rolled her eyes but kept quiet. Cyrus smiled at the group and her friends visibly swooned. Honestly! She was starting to feel like she was in a teen drama!

"Nice to meet you all," he said. He held out his hand to shake. Kadiah, who was closest took it immediately, with both of hers.

"Yes, sooo nice to meet you!" she gushed.

Amaya and Marissa were more dignified, softly shaking his hand and giggling all the while. Gabriella stared at his hand for a few seconds. She looked up at him and scowled slightly when she saw that he was grinning down at her. He cocked an eyebrow in challenge. Fine then. She took his hand.

And that’s when things grew weird and terrifying.

Where their hands touched, smoke began to form and deep, nasty burns bloomed across his skin. The air filled with the stench of rotting flesh. Before she could pull back in horror, he did. He yanked his ruined hand back, cradling it to his chest. He hissed at her, his beautiful face contorting grotesquely. And not in the normal way your face goes ugly when you're angry. No, his face grew long and his mouth wide. His teeth went from perfect pearls to long, crooked, yellow daggers. His ears grew tall, long and pointed, like some kind of animal's and his eyes flashed bright and red, burning with a fire that could only be from hell.

Before she could scream, everything went back to normal.

Gabriella blinked, still frozen from the terror at what she saw. But Cyrus looked normal. Normal, pretty face and perfect smile. No pointy ears or red hellfire eyes. His hands were tucked into his pockets, but he wasn't behaving as if he had horrible third-degree burns. She slowly looked around at her friends, and at the other students in the cafeteria. No one was acting out of the ordinary. No one was acting as if Cyrus had just transformed into a monster. He wasn't acting as of he had just transformed into a monster.

Gabriella looked on as he made an excuse to leave, something about needing to head to the principal's office. Her friends cheerfully said their goodbyes. Amaya elbowed her not too gently.

"Fix your face," she hissed.

Gabriella felt the deep frown on her face. She smoothed out her expression but didn't bother to smile as her eyes met his. They were warm and brown and shining with interest. He didn't look upset but intrigued. He smiled at her, a slow, small smile that was meant to look shy.

"See you later, Gabriella?"

His eyes flashed red for just a millisecond. Her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to get up and scream at him, curse him out, maybe grab his face to see if it would burn just like his hand. But no. She would look crazy and get in trouble for attacking the new boy. So she smiled her fakest smile and said,

"See you later, Cyrus”.

Gabriella had some investigating to do.

Short Story- Shades of Violet: By Adinelle Ggreeo

I can see the good and the bad in people.

Red and blue are what I see. Throughout my life, people have come in many different shades of purple.

We all have the capacity for good and bad within us. Our shades of purple depend on whether we choose to listen more to the angel or to the demon on our shoulders.

But there are those that have no angel at all.

--------------

You can also read my stories here:

Archive Of Our Own

Fictionpress

I can see the good and the bad in people. I've had this ability since I was a young girl. It appears to me as an aura around the person, emanating from their heart space. Red and blue are what I see. Red for bad, blue for good. Simple stuff. Though human beings are not that simple. Red and blue mixed make purple. Throughout my life, people have come in many different shades of purple. We all have the capacity to do good or bad. Our shades of purple depend on whether we listen to the angel on our shoulders or the demon. But there are those that have no angel at all.

One instance was in a church, of all places. An acquaintance of mine invited me to a Sunday mass at her community's church. She was very braggadocios with her invitation, telling me all about the beauty of the building and the status of her community. She was the kind of woman who cared too much about how she looked and what people thought about her. All the while, she judged others for those same insecurities. She was a little on the red side of purple. Just a little. I didn't think too much of it. She wasn't bad, just superficial. So I said yes.

When I walked into the church that Sunday, I was immediately on guard. There was a worrying amount of red-violet people walking around. They smiled their false smiles and spoke their false well wishes to each other. One of them came up to me, a woman. She was decked all in red. Red dress, red lips, red fingernails and toenails, and an almost red aura. She looked me up and down as she walked over. It was slight and quick, but I saw her nose wrinkle and the corners of her lips turned down. I suppose she wasn't a fan of my hand-me-down cotton dress on my plain brown flats. Her wide smile snapped back into place, and she greeted me with a high voice, speaking loudly enough for others to hear. She was apparently one of the ushers. I told her I was invited by an acquaintance and asked if I could be seated with her. Apparently not.

“Oh, newcomers sit at the back, sweetie,” she said, showing me to one of the pews in a dark corner of the church. I was the only one sitting there, which was strange for such a large church.

The building itself was quite grand. It really was as beautiful as I was told. It had tall ceilings with Victorian-esque chandeliers and large, colourful stained glass windows that lined the walls. They depicted in grand detail The Passion of Christ. Statues of St. Mary, Jesus Christ, and various Angels and saints painted in gold and jewel tones stood tall near the altar. The altar itself looked more like a performance stage. I could see stage lights all around. the priest's chair looked more like a throne, tall, wide and covered in rich purple velvet and what looked like precious gems. Very pretty, but unnecessary. I sat there uncomfortably, taking in the church and watching the people, seeing very few of a blue hue.

My final straw was when the priest came in with all the altar servers and lectures. As we all stood for their entrance, I noticed how everyone was placed. All the people grew redder the closer to the altar they were. Then I saw the priest at the end of the procession. Decked out in his white robes, he glowed a deep, blood red, brighter than I'd ever seen and I was immediately filled with dread and horror. I didn't care how it looked, I got up and power-walked down the aisle. I ran when I heard someone call out. I refused to stay in the same space as someone so vile as to have the aura of blood.

The acquaintance and I are no longer familiar.

Another instance happened when I was a teenager and thankfully, it was just in passing. My friends and I were at the mall, just hanging out. Those were our ‘window shopping’ days, when we had nothing but lint in our pockets, having spent all our allowances as soon as we got them. I'm a lot better at managing my money these days. We sat in the food court, nibbling on the sandwiches that we brought from home. we were people watching, well boy watching to be more accurate. Ooo-ing and Aah-ing over boys and men that were too old for us.

My friend, Sharon had pointed him out to us, her eyes wide with awe. The other girls were no better, openly staring at him with gaping mouths. It was obvious why. He was beautiful in an etheric way. He was tall and slim with dark brown skin that contrasted with his pure white afro hair. He wore it in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck. He wore all white. White short-sleeved button-up shirt, white trousers, and white sneakers with not a speck of dirt on them. He was looking down at a little black book he held in one hand as he walked by. His other hand gently grazed his sharp jawline. That drew our attention to his strong nose, plump lips and the long, dark lashes that framed his eyes.

“Oh my gosh, he looks like an anime boy!” my friend, Ali whisper-squealed.

The others chimed in with their agreement. I was watching his back as he left our sight with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Because that was the first time I'd ever seen a person glowing so red. his aura was the colour of rubies and it beamed out of him in tentacle-like rays, like a red sun.

“That one's your pick huh, Cici?” Sharon teased, elbowing me out of my trance. I force the giggle I'm trying to ignore the roiling in my stomach. I prayed to never see that boy again.

I have seen and met people that were fully blue. All of them were babies and small children, pure souls untouched by the darkness of the world. They start to become tinged with red by the time they're about ten years old. Children can be cruel, after all. I have yet to meet a blue adult. They don't exist. By the time we’ve reached that age, we’ve seen, experienced and done too much to not be tinged with red. This doesn't mean that I haven't met any good people. There are many good people walking this earth, contrary to popular belief. They come in different shades of violet and blue-violet. I'm glad to say that I see them daily among the reds.

Today, though, I ran into someone. Well, it’s more like they ran into me. They came barreling into me out of nowhere from among the crowd. I'm a small woman, so I went flying, hitting the ground hard. Thankfully, I had nothing to spill. My tailbone wasn't too happy though.

“I am so sorry, miss!” said a male voice.

I looked up at the man. he was holding out a hand to me with an apologetic look on his face. And he was still talking, probably still apologizing, but I couldn't help but stare. He was an average-looking man, his appearance a bit dishevelled. He had a mess of brown curls atop his head and a face dotted with small red pimples. He was in need of a shave, with a five o’clock shadow going across his face and down the underside of his chin. He had nice teeth though. They were straight and clean and so were his short nails. He wore a slightly oversized t-shirt and jeans and smelled faintly of fabric softener. A battered grey messenger bag hung off his shoulder.

His appearance was not what stalled me. It was his aura. his bright blue-like-the-sky aura.

In the midst of my shock, I didn't remember taking his hand and him pulling me up to stand. I came back to the present as he awkwardly patted me on the shoulder, still apologizing and then off he went, once again almost running through the crowd of people. I watched him go, his blue aura shining bright amongst the sea of purple. I looked on until I could no longer see him.

I gripped the strap of my shoulder bag tightly. I looked around at the violets and blue violets at the red violets and darker. I was worried. For the first time in my life, my sight failed me. A blue adult does not exist. I stand by that. I glanced back in the direction the man went.

So how do I explain him?

Hawaii.

While listening to “wayamaya” by lana del rey (lizzy grant) made me feel all good about summer. Here in my hometown is hot as fuck. And I’m dying from the heat; summer is hot and floral. Not floral as in “full of flowers” but the atmosphere of it. Like, singing country songs while running through the fields full of green and flowers, with the sun shining and hitting on my head; but I put a hat over my head and a pair of sunglasses, happy with what I have. My mother has brought me up this way: free and young. She says that we can be 80years old and still feel young and free. In fact, she had taught me to keep living through everything, either hard or easy. She has taught me to be easygoing, thoughtless and free; the most important part is to live the carpe diem or nocte diem. So, to live the present day; the “me” of today. Is it possible to be you when you want to be you? Yes.

So can I be free and easygoing, today? Of course.

The point is: be happy with what you have. You have little money, no worries. Live the little things you have around you. It’s not hard you know? I am writing this while being me. It’s summer and it’s hot as hell, but I keep on running through these fields of words; unknown words. Like me.

I might know who I am and how I am, but you don’t. Am I running now through your mind?

Oh yes I am.

I might be crazy but what I say is true.

Us, poets, have the right to control readers’ thoughts. We have a unique talent; dancing to elvis presley’s harmonies and putting words in a sheet paper. We are all set to follow the command of our creativity, which allows us to put words together and to bring the imagination of something impossible into your eyes.

And that’s why we are poets. We are big wave surfers living in the Wayamaya bay.

Who I am?

"I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don't ask me who i am."

This reminds me of a particular scene in my life; my Spanish teacher had always been really strict and weirdly relentless into educating us (my class and I), believing that behaving so, she was doing a great job. Instead, she was doing quite the opposite of what she intended to; inflicting her personal beliefs and faiths into our culture, she destroyed our own authenticity or better said, identity.

Now personally talking, I remember that in first year of high school, she said something really interesting to a girl in my class meanwhile scolding her in a, dare I say, cruel way; "How can you expect me to understand what kind of teaching you deserve when you don't even know yourself?".

It's weird because at that time those words weren't surely directed at me, but I flinched so hard that had me speechless.

Didn't that girl really know herself?

Didn't that girl really know who she was?

Does she know who she is right now?

Since those words were pronounced by that ascetic woman, have already been three long years. And I still think of those religiously.

Did I know who I was at that time?

Do I know who I am now?

I certainly can't answer this question. As Sylvia Plath said, I know what I like and what I dislike. I'm 24/7 thinking about how I want to be meanwhile not knowing who I am.

Now my faith is probably this; finding out who I am. And how do I find this out? I don't know.

some excerpts from the zombie story I’ve been way too obsessed with writing

basically the local highschool‘s football-team accidentally turn themselves into a bunch of zombies and it’s up to B, the protagonist, and his friends (plus a depressed gas-station-attendant they run into on the way) to save their curious little town from descending into chaos :P

My Book's on Amazon

Janice Lance: Monday Blues By Monet Mouling: Amazon.com: Janice Lance: Monday Blues: 9798335277259: Mouling, Monét: Books