#I have a couple custom tags btw

[sparklingpax]

heads up no one will really need I guess, but if you’re ever looking for masterforce stuff on my blog, a majority of the masterforce content can be found not under the “super god masterforce” tag, but instead under my custom tag for it: “masterforce moment òwó 🥺💓✨”

[rintaroll]

❝ INSIDE THE LINES. ❞

— during matsukawa's time babysitting your niece, more than a couple realizations occur to you.

⊱┊pairing. matsukawa issei x gn!reader ⊱┊tags. fluff, established relationship, reader has a 6 year old niece and works at the bakery, food mention, mattsun has a sleeve tattoo :], unedited ⊱┊wc. 1.3k ⊱┊note. cleaning out my drafts hehe this was back when i had my mattsun brain rot (OH btw while writing this he works as a tattoo artist in my mind but i didnt mention it anywhere)

© RINTAROLL

"issei, i'm so sorry-"

"it's fine," matsukawa waves his hand dismissively. his eyes flicker to the clock on the wall. "when are you coming home?"

"soon. i just have to frost the cupcakes and wait for the customer to pick them up." you pan your phone to the chocolate cupcakes, fresh out of the oven and still steaming hot.

"those look really good, babe." matsukawa muses.

you hear a small voice squealing from behind the camera. "i wanna see!"

your boyfriend chuckles, eyes trained on your niece, himeko, whose ears have perked up at the word 'cupcakes'. the six-year-old scrambles onto the sofa, comfortably nestling herself into matsukawa's side. her eyes widen when she finally sees the cupcakes in all their chocolatey goodness. "yummy..." she says, eyes boring into matsukawa's phone screen, unblinking and shiny.

you pan your phone back to your face. "they're not for you!" you remind her.

"i know!" himeko sighs dramatically, strands of hair falling onto her face. mattsun effortlessly brushes it back. "i have to wait for tomorrow so we can make them together."

"yes, that's right." you nod in approval.

"why can't it be tomorrow already?" she pouts. mattsun doesn't realize, but your eyes are trained on him while he stares at your niece while adorning an amused smile.

"hm," you ponder. "maybe if you sleep early tonight, then tomorrow will come earlier?" a sly grin forms on your lips.

himeko narrows her eyes at you. "that's not gonna work on me!"

you shrug. "worth a try."

matsukawa snickers at your failed attempt to trick her. "smart girl," he praises her before raising one of his hands, which is met with a high five from himeko. your niece then proceeds to stick her tongue out at you.

you shake your head, but there's a smile on your lips despite you doing so. she might as well steal your boyfriend at this point, you think to yourself.

you can almost remember the good times—when himeko was four and hiding behind your legs, while matsukawa was crouching in front of you. she was terrified, little hands gripping onto your pants. she told you he looked like a gangster, with all the tattoos covering the entirety of his right arm. "what if he kidnaps me?" she wailed once he leaves, to which you comfort her by saying that he won't. from her skeptic expression and her glassy eyes, it was safe to say that she was far from convinced.

and yet now here you are. with your boyfriend and your niece in cahoots, conspiring together to overthrow you someday.

"anyways, i was calling because she wanted me to tell you she finished her coloring book, isn't that right, hime?"

halfway through his words, himeko lets out an 'oh!' and jumps up from the couch. she picks up her coloring book off the floor, where it was surrounded by an assortment of colored pencils and markers in disarray. flipping to the last page, she proudly shows off her latest piece of work. "look!"

you gasp, genuinely admiring the effort she's put into coloring in the drawing of a fish. considering how she's just turned six, she's done a wonderful job in coloring inside the lines. "that looks so nice! did you do that all by yourself?"

"yep!" she chirps, nodding excitedly before stopping to ponder for a moment. "hm... i guess, uncle mattsun did help me color the amenomies..."

"anemones," matsukawa stage whispers.

"right, amenemones."

you and matsukawa bite back your laughs. "it looks really good, himeko," you comment, still smiling.

himeko nods absentmindedly. it becomes obvious to both you and matsukawa that her attention is not on either of you anymore. she goes out of frame as she continues to flip through her coloring book and zeroes in on her work, leaving matsukawa the only one left in view of the camera.

your eyes flit to the top of your phone screen, clicking your tongue when you read the time. "alright, i better go and start frosting. the customer will be here soon. bye, himeko! bye, baby."

matsukawa's heart flutters helplessly. he will never get tired of you calling him that. "see you," your boyfriend beams. although still engrossed by her coloring book, you hear your niece mumble a soft 'bye' right before the call ends.

pocketing his phone, matsukawa turns his focus back on himeko only to find her tiny lips curled into a frown. "something wrong, sweets?"

she looks up, with her brows all scrunched up. matsukawa feels his heart melt at the sight. "i'm out of pages. what will i color now?"

"i'll buy you another one tomorrow, okay?" he pokes her nose.

with a giggle, she scrunches her nose in effect. "okay."

an idea spontaneously strikes matsukawa. it might be one of the best ideas he's had in a while—the realization that himeko brings out his creative side more often than not quickly becomes an afterthought.

"actually, hime..."

her ears perk up, big eyes staring up at him. those big, doe eyes he has not learned how to say no to.

"i know something else you can color."

matsukawa was sure he saw himeko visibly light up when he offers his tattooed arm. he doesn't need to tell her twice. she expeditiously collects her markers off the ground—she's big enough to know that pencil colors won't be able to color in your skin!—and spreads them out on the sofa next to where both of them sit.

snuggled into his side, matsukawa has his tattooed arm around her as himeko starts to color in the tattoos from the ones on his forearm. "i'll make sure your arm looks extra pretty!" she exclaims excitedly.

"can you make it look as pretty as you are?"

himeko tilts her head to the side as she thinks of an answer. "hm... maybe. i'll try." the earnestness in her answer makes matsukawa chuckle.

as himeko continues, her inquiries about his sleeve don't stop. did it hurt? (just a little bit.) what's the meaning behind this one? (there's no meaning to that one. this one, however...) are you gonna get a tattoo of y/n? (i already did.) can i get one too? (matsukawa laughs awkwardly when he hears the last question, immediately changing the topic by asking her what her favorite color is. he doesn't want to get into trouble.)

the conversations tone down when himeko makes it halfway through matsukawa's forearm. he knows himeko turns quiet once she's focused. it's only when matsukawa feels her marker slip that he realizes that she has nodded off. making as little movement as possible, he closes the cap on the red marker that she was holding and puts it aside.

half an hour later, you tip-toe into your living room with the intention to surprise your boyfriend and your niece at heart. as you get closer, suspicions start to arise when you realize that it's awfully quiet.

wait, are they-

oh.

they are.

your heart blooms at the precious sight of matsukawa and himeko fast asleep on the couch. matsukawa's head is lolled back on the back of the sofa, his arms around himeko as she is curled up into his side. they look so comfortable and peaceful, soft snores coming out of the both of them with hideko's head rising up and down along with matsukawa's chest with every breath that he takes.

you just finished snapping a quick picture when realization sets in.

and no, it's not about how matsukawa has successfully won her over for good—that realization has set in a long time ago.

but it's realizing that you want to spend the rest of your life coming home to this sight. him dozing off on the sofa, waiting for you to come home, and maybe a child, or two, of your own curled up next to him.

vocabulary !

himeko is written like so: 姫子 in kanji. 姫 (hime) means princess, while 子 (ko) means child. mattsun's nickname for her is hime, which essentially means he calls her 'princess'.

[lightfeltmemories]

yandere! perv! shalnark smut in which shalnark is obsessed on watching reader (his normal civilian friend) through hidden cameras he placed on their house? 🤭🤭

i'm the same age as you btw!

HIDDEN

shalnark x female!reader | nsfw

tags: reader is afab, has breasts and vagina, discharge is mentioned a couple times? would that bother anyone? aw well, also, readers shower routine is based off of mine. ;P reader gets horny and masturbates because why not.

tw's: stalking, yandere stuff, mentions of non-con, pretty vague depiction of murder, the summary in of itself is already a trigger warning.

notes: this may be the last hxh request i'll take so far, sorry if this is half assed and pretty short i was kind of running out of ideas for how this would end xc.

w; 1.3k

minors, ageless or blank blogs do not interact

---

isn't she beautiful?

the computer showing the figure of a young woman stripping off her work clothes in her bedroom, in an almost teasing way, or that's what he perceived it as.

once she was completely nude, her breast hanging without the support of that uncomfortable bra, her sweaty, used underwear most likely caked in discharge, she shape of her ass, ordinary on most but beautiful on her.

shalnark eagerly watched as she walks into the bathroom attatched to her room, closing the door behind her, his cock pressed against his pants. pretty much begging to be let free of it's confinement, but he wanted to tease himself a little more, waiting until she actually gets in the shower to jerk off.

she pulls the shower curtains away and turns the nobs to where the warm was lukewarm, leaning on a hotter temperature, some useless information he retained.

he knew she was stressed from work today, first having to deal with entitled, annoying customers, and once she leaves work, a scruffy old man follows her to her car in an attempt to get her number, she shoos him away like the pest he was.

little did she know, she thankfully would never see him again.

she steps in the shower, the water hits her body, making her jump, it must not be the right temperature.

the small camera she has yet to see shows her perfectly close, just sitting above in the upper right corner behind the showerhead, he could see her soaked tits, and the water swimming towards her pussy.

bending over to turn the knobs again, the image of him thrusting behind her appears in his head, he wonders how loud she'll moan as his cock plunges deep inside, hitting that one spot that's sure to make her crazy.

this action isn't new for him, he's watched her shower sessions for a while, and it never gets old, thankfully, chrollo hadn't called the spiders to get together in a number of months, so he had a lot of free time to spend, especially watching his dearest friend shower.

once she got it to the right temperature, she picks out her lavender scented organic castile soap, by this point, shalnark's cock is already out on full display, watching in anticipation as she pours some of the soap onto the small towel to wash off her body, she drags the towel in every crevice, her breasts jiggle and flop as she passes by them, cleaning them.

tiny leaks of pre-cum dripple down to his fingers, slowly pumping his fist as he watches her clean her body, the water washing away the soap.

she spreads her legs to let the water run through her pussy, getting a good view of it, her lips slightly spread open, using her fingers to open them even further, his cock twitches at the sight, he was blessed to have a friend with such a beautiful pussy.

even more precum spills out as he unintentionally jerks faster than anticipated, she was cleaning her pussy with the water, honestly, he's so desperate for her, she didn't even have to wash it, the musty smell of discharge and sweat wouldn't even bother him, he's a grown man who's had his fair share of pussy to eat.

she pulls out another soap, a scented body wash, what reads on the bottle says that is was more of a fruity, floral scent, her signature scent, with the perfume that matches almost exactly.

imagining himself smelling her after she dries herself off, on top of her freshly cleansed body, making love marks and bites, she moans his name and tells him to continue.

she once again washes her body, she soap's lather covering parts of her body, he's close to cumming fixating on the way her breasts move, every now and again she'll swipe underneath and let them fall comfortably back down, he might just cum right on the spot if she goes back to opening her legs.

shalnark removes his hand from his cock so that he won't cum too soon, there's still more he wants to see, and if he's lucky like last time, he gets to watch her play with herself.

his cock twitching at the thought, the way she fucked herself with that dildo, the way she rubbed her clit, the way she moaned.. god, he wished he could go back to the very moment he came from that.

but it's only been a few weeks almost a month since that happened, and she hasn't done it ever since.

however, this will do, her shower routine is boring and familiar yes, but it's her, the woman he wants oh so badly, the woman he's obsessed with, beyond obsessed.

the shower routine came to a close as she turns the knobs, the water stops, she hops out the shower to pick up the towel to wrap around her body, concealing it, he quickly switches cameras, to her room, where she walks into, the towel that was wrapped around her was taken off, she begins to wipe away any water, drying herself away, his cock painfully hard as he watches her dry herself, teasing his moist head, she drops the towel and walks over to her dresser; the same dresser her dildo was placed in.

was it about to happen again?

but to his disappointment, she pulled out a pair of underwear, closing the drawer.

she opens another drawer to pull out an oversized t-shirt, closing that drawer and throwing the clothes over onto the bed, where she goes to sit on afterwards.

he waits for what she's going to do next, the camera sits in the far left corner of her room, getting once again another perfect view of her bedroom.

she goes to lay on the bed, spreading her legs, getting another view of her pussy, she was wet, and not because of the water.

was she going to masturbate again?

her fingers travel down to her moistened pussy, spreading her lips with her index and ring finger, she uses her middle finger to dip into her hole to gather some of her slick, and make soft, teasing circles around her clit.

"fuck.." he curses under his breath as he rubs his cock at the same pace she was, he could see her pussy pulsing and twitching with each touch, more juices spilling out, she didn't moan this time, but still.

she reaches over to the small dresser beside her bed to open it, pulling out that same toy, turns out she placed the dildo in a different spot.

she wasted no time shoving the dildo into her wet hole, letting out a soft moan as it's all the way in, she continues to rub her clit with her middle finger, the pace gradually growing faster.

he was jerking so fast, fuck, he could cum in any minute now, this was too much for him, he so badly wished that dildo was replaced with his cock instead, a mere toy can only do so much.

"oh.. oh fuck im so.. close.." she moans softly as tears started to form in her eyes from the amount of pleasure she was experiencing, shalnark couldn't contain it, his cum splattering all over his stomach, breathing heavily as he draws out more.

she throws her head back, quickly removing the dildo as she squirts all over her bedsheets, laying there, breathing heavily, the both of them were.

he stares at the screen with half lidded eyes, watching her frame, he decided that it would be time to turn off his computer, staring at his now soft cock and the cum that lays on his stomach.

"what has she done to me?" he whispers to himself, does he feel .. shameful? has post nut clarity finally caught up with him?

no, he was just tired, he'll finally see her tomorrow anyways, getting up from his chair to clean himself off in his bathroom, wiping off the cum with a damp towel.

thinking about his plan, to kidnap her, and to finally have her all to himself, but on the bright side, she'll never have to worry about old sleezy men hitting on her again, now, would she?

[idiotmf]

Oooookay. So... quick, little update.

(It's a lie, it's never quick or little, heh.)

I'm working on the first interactive story and I'm about 20% through the writing work and things are about to pick up.

The story itself isn't all that noteworthy and a secret for now, in case I'm going to scrap the idea and go with a different one. (it do be like that sometimes)

I'm going to give a rough estimate of a couple weeks until I'm going to release it. Unless I start obsessing over it, then maybe less but don't bet on it.

It's very barebones in terms of appearance and function... as in... You can currently choose your own name and what genitals you have, the rest is predetermined by the answers you click on.

The idea for now is for the reader to be a sub and have a choice between at least two (male) partners (aka for now it's written that you can have either one or both if you play your cards right). Maybe I'll do dom later if people are interested? Unsure yet.

I'm thinking of implementing a sort of "Affection points" system that determines your ending in a more subtle way, just like some visual novels have. I'm an idiot when it comes to coding though, I only learned a bit of HTML for a game once because it let you add custom descriptions, lol. I figured the very basics of it out but there's still some work to be done, not to mention it would require me to put a value on everything.

Anyways, here's where the poll comes in. I know a lot of you just click on an answer without reading the rest, I see you. I'm like that too, so I'm sneakily going to hide it under the read more section so I get a few more organic answers.

* AP = Affection Points (the system I was talking about above)

I have a feeling I can guess the answer but I am the queen of somewhat unnecessary polls, at least in my own mind, so why not?

I also promise I'll write some more smut soon, just currently busy with my job and the project (and also being a 'functional' adult; rip).

Last bit of text, I promise but I'm going to dedicate a new tag to this, and I'm calling it #idiotupdates for those peeps that care enough. (#idiotrambles for all the other stuff btw)

Have a nice weekend, my lovely monsterfuckers! I shall soon return with an ask request that I did not procrastinate on and you cannot prove anything.

💕

[amazeingartist]

ok art’s not working rn but I still wanna share ghostsoap in my zombie au here too after seeing a bunch of the cod zombies stuff on twitter (I’m very autistic about zombie and since tumblr doesn’t really have a limit y’all will get more info. depression works hard, but autism works harder /j)

anyway tags for any of y’all who don’t vibe with this type of content

CW: zombies, so cannibalism, body horror (mutation based zombies they’re not the rotting kind), gore mentions, a little bit of death (not proper mcd)

(Will update if I’ve missed a tag)

AU CONTEXT:

SO the timeline is set far into the future of the zombie apocalypse where anything zombie related is very normal and apart of everyday life with relics and stories to the old word. Humanity is kinda thriving, there’s technology, medicine, secure food sources, water, functional cities & towns, overall the quality of life is pretty good, it’s a lil sci-fiy but not overly so.

The specific zombie strain to is a mutation based one, so there’s different zombie types and it affects all living things; herbivores are the only type of infected that’s non-aggressive unless provoked, while all carnivorous/predatory animals and certain omnivores are always hostile. Regardless of aggression, the disease can be easily transmitted via blood, bites, scratches, ingestion of contaminated products, and saliva depending on the zombie type. (fun fact—zombie cows are a thing and are used to deter attacks on living/healthy livestock)

GHOAP TIME

Anyway, world building context done (for now), Ghost & Soap are partners in “community security”, meaning they are to deal with threats to the livelihood/safety of people. They mostly work with towns since towns have less means to protect themselves—cities have fences and walls which are patrolled whereas towns outside a city might only have a simple fence and a couple zombie cows—from the hordes, raiders or particularly bothersome zombie types, while occasionally doing specialised work in the cities.

Ghost is blight, a humanoid zombie that has retained their human consciousness despite turning, while Soap is a delayed, a immune human who’s blood can used to suppress the affects of infection for via regular prescribed shots. Both are incredibly rare btw, (for both human and zombie) and are literally an ideal working pair because blight’s are highly infectious to the point where their drool is a safety hazard (one of the reasons they’re muzzled), but since Soap’s immune there’s no risk. Blight’s are also susceptible to unexpectedly going feral which Soap prevents by keeping Ghost in touch with his humanity; literally Soap’s lack of fear of Ghost is what helps them be a perfect working pair (that and Ghost genuinely enjoying Soap’s company).

So yeah, they patrol for raiders and redirect any wandering corpses frequently, with the occasionally job from some regular folk that’s too dangerous to do themselves—just all things that genuinely help people keep and feel safe.

Unfortunately for Soap, when dealing with zombies he can’t hide or mask himself as easy a regular person, a problem Ghost, unless displaying aggression, doesn’t have on account of being an actual zombie. Soap does abuse his immunity though, throwing himself in front of others to act as a meat shield and protect them from infection. Cause of that though his body is littered in scars of bite and scratch marks (zombies that harm Soap usually don’t exist for much longer if Ghost’s around)

As a blight, Ghost’s mutated state is centred around his human base but has elements of other zombie types; from pale and dark veiny skin, his jaw and throat are split into mandibles which Ghost needs a custom compression mask to be able talk, his arms have exposed boney spines/blades that are both retractable and can be used as projectiles (throwing knife equivalent), his nails are basically claws + are also somewhat retractable, and over certain parts of Ghost’s body are have bone plating as armour. It’s unclear the exact limit of Ghost’s capabilities as it’s near impossible to test him as he hates doctors/labs, (the reason he’ll consistently stepping into a lab for is for a blood transfusion/feed).

[^^^may be updated as I think more about this au]

Little Ghoap moment, but Soap will help Ghost in his upkeep of himself by either filing down Ghost’s claws or brushing the rows and rows of sharp teeth for any bits of stuck flesh and to keep an excess buildup of bacteria from forming. It’s literally something only Soap can do, both cause he’s immune and because Ghost only feels comfortable letting Soap help. It’s not an process that should take very long, but Soap is meticulously and after holding Ghost’s mandibles awkwardly extended for some time, he’ll gently massage the muscles; despite the horror it’s actually a pretty sweet gesture. When they’re off duty Soap’ll unlock Ghost’s muzzle and massage his face after being compressed for a couple days too (Soap’s one of the few people with the authority to unlock Ghost’s muzzle)

and uh yeah. I think that the end of that for now, hope it’s enjoyable. I’m combing my current hyperfixation with an idea/project I’ve been working on for years and is quite dear to me so there’s a lot of information to share lmao. feel free to ask any questions if there are any, preferably via the asks but comments are fine too (just I can tag asks together)

[elllteo]

HEY YOU psspspsps!!!

If you had a sheezy.art account a couple years back and are now coming back to the site, guess what: I'M ON THERE!

You can follow me here: https://sheezy.art/ellteo

I'm an admin for the site! I was staff before, fwiw :]

The site is in beta, so you can't make a new account yet....but you will be able to soon !! we're seeing how well the site manages more traffic and so will be rolling out new sign ups in waves >:]c if you had an account feel free to reply and I will try to take a look-see!

If you miss the art community vibes of old DA and the kind of profile customization as seen above (and then some, for subscribers) then I definitely recommend checking us out when you can! We are actively Anti-AI and have a relatively robust tagging/blocking/muting system that only grows more robust as time goes on :>

You can still view the site without an account to give you an idea of what people are doing with their profiles, btw! We support a lot of different medias (writing, audio, visual, etc) and there's a lot of plans in the works, providing we can keep up with development costs 💖

anywho go follow me I'm trying to remind myself to use the site as an artist and not just moderate it KJFGHSLDJF

[devilsrecreation]

Alright, you know what? F it. Ever since I saw the tag in that Zootopia x TLG AU, it’s been living rent free in my head. So I now propose to you all….

Bar Owner Kenge headcanons

In addition to being a bar owner, he also bartends

I don’t know where exactly his bar would be located, but it’s called “Venomous”. Like the original tag said, he sells really strong drinks (which is venom)

His staff consists of smaller lizards who are unsurprisingly terrified of him due to his short temper

In Kenge’s defense, he’s really concerned about health and safety. That’s why his staff are EXTRA careful with how they do their jobs. He’s kinda like Jon Taffer in a way

He used to be the guy to start a fight in a bar, but now that he owns one, he can EASILY finish it. Nobody fucks around in his bar

He may not be the most likeable person (lizard), but he’s REALLY good at his job and he takes it maybe a little too seriously. And he looks out for his staff and customers. You harass them, your ass will be on the sidewalk in five seconds

He’s managed to befriend a few of his regulars, so much so that he knows their drinks by heart

His regulars/friends are Shupavu, Njano, and Sumu. Shupavu and Njano are secretaries and Sumu is a hitman (though he says he’s in “waste management”)

His number one rule (which is written btw) is to never use the word “little” or anything related to it. Don’t use it for ANYTHING, especially not referring to him. You do and he will personally take you outside to fight you. And he will win.

Because of all the fights he’s been in, he’s been arrested a couple of times for assault. But to be fair, the victim DID call him “little”. He now takes anger management classes

Definitely has a couple tattoos on him

He goes to the gym often and it shows

If I may add my oc, to this: Maji owns a rival bar nearby/right across from Kenge’s. They’re rivals who have a secret relationship. They act like they hate each other in public but as soon as both of their bars close, they have a makeout session

They did genuinely hate each other before until one night when they went from insulting/name-calling each other to passionate kissing. Yeah, they don’t know how either

[eggtempest]

Hi, I've got a couple questions about your magic AU for witch from mercury! How would the difference between pilots (mages) and non-pilot characters (like Nika being a mechanic) work? And how do witches duels function at Asticasia and outside of it? I absolutely love the world building you put into this AU, and I want to know more about how it works in conjunction with some of the other Gundam elements~

similarly to how it works with mobile suits, i thought that mechanics like nika would mainly work on maintaining/customizing brooms. despite being primarily driven by magic, there's still a lot of engineering that goes into them-- ensuring that they work properly in conjunction with spells, are light enough to be easily maneuverable, et cetera. in general in this au, there's a lot of intersection between magic and technology, so mechanics tend to need to have detailed knowledge of both and how they interact with one another.

i think that when brooms are used in like. actual warfare, the aim is to hit the pilot with intent to kill. but at asticassia, similarly to how mobile suits in canon have their weapons' output limited in duels, the power of spells is VERY heavily capped, probably enforced by an enchantment so that it's impossible to cheat. it's something like. trying to land a hit on the pilot with a non-damaging spell, one that probably doesn't even issue any knockback. sort of like witchy laser tag

thank you btw im rlly glad you like it!!

[matan4il]

Speaking of names: Has it ever been discussed how weird it is that Chimney and Albert's dad gave them English names? They were both born in South Korea to Korean parents. Chimney's mom didn't speak English at all, and I'm fairly certain they didn't change their names for assimilation purposes, since Albert was Albert before he migrated. It's just always seemed like a weird choice to me. Is Han Sr. an anglophile? Was this the equivalent of people naming their kids after anime characters?

Hi Nonnie! I take it this is another follow up to my 911 names post...

Oh, I think there could be several explanations. It could be that Chim and Albert's dad was an anglophile. But it could also be that he always had an eye out for the possibility of immigration.

To explain what I mean, I can give myself as an example. I was born in Communist Romania, where the situation financially was so bad at the time, my dad told me they only had a couple of hours of electricity a day in Bucharest, which is the capital and the city with the biggest population. That's where I was born, and my dad told me there were babies who froze to death in Bucharest hospitals that winter due to the lack of electricity translated into issues of heating.

And we as Jews suffered more. The Communist regime, in the name of "equality for all means no religions!" dismantled a lot of the Jewish community's institutes, leaving Jews without a lot of the mutual support they used to give each other. On top of that, antisemitism was still alive and kicking, and now it had Communist tools to use against Jews, like informants. If an antisemite didn't like a Jew, all they had to do was "inform" the party that this Jew was heard being disloyal to the Communist regime, and that was that. This happened to my great uncle. He was arrested and taken to a "re-education" camp. He was a Holocaust survivor, BTW.

By the time I was born, my parents had had enough and they decided they WILL leave Romania. The only question was where to, and how and when it would be possible. With this goal in mind, they named me Alice. They felt it was an "international" enough name that I could get by with it wherever they end up going.

Now, South Korea is NOT Romania under Communism, but if for whatever reason Albert and Chim's father was dissatisfied with life there, he might have always had this goal in mind.

Another option is that 'Albert' and 'Howard' are their English names, but that they also have Korean names that we're simply not introduced to. It has become more and more common for East Asians to choose an English name in order to make communication with westerners easier. This English name is not taken on for the purpose of assimilation and doesn't replace people's names in their own language, the two names coexist. (Since I'm Jewish, I will once again point out the similarity to the Jewish custom in many countries of giving a child a 'local' name, but also a Hebrew name. My Hebrew name is פרח and means 'flower'! Both names are valid, both represent parts of the person's identity, I'm just as much Alice with that choice my parents had in mind when they named me that, as I am פרח, with the knowledge that it connects me to my people and culture)

So we have at least three possible explanations! I'm sure there are more options. I hope this helps? Have a good day! As always, here's my ask tag. xoxox

[ruinsoftime]

Escaflowne Voice Meme

Okay, I guess it's my turn. This is a Written Meme instead of voice btw. The original questionnaire is here: Escaflowne Voice Meme.

01. Introduce yourself! When did you first watch Escaflowne? What brought you into the fold?

I already shared part of my experience in this post, so I'm gonna expand on that.

I was young and naive and in Junior High. There was an open tv channel that broadcasted anime shows all evening. One of them was Escaflowne, and I liked it, I mean, it's medieval! With robots! And swords! And the robots wear capes! But I wasn't a fan.

I saw the movie until I was in college and I loved it.

Years later, I always attempted to watch the series, because I thought I never watched it complete (and I never passed from the first episode in those tries). In 2021 I finally watched the entire series again… I didn't remember a thing hahaha and I discovered that I had actually seen it completely before because the only things I recalled were the "Aoi Hitomi" song and that Dilandau was a woman (and I spent the entire time looking for the womanly clues on Dilandau, with no success).

But you know, I really really loved the movie but I forgot how much I did it, it took some effort on my part to remember… hell, I even had magazine clippings in my room (still there) and used to draw Van and Hitomi, but all that is still lost in my mind and from the world (I rescued a drawing, not the great thing).

So here I am.

I already had a tumblr account but I guess due to inactivity I couldn't use the tags, so I better started anew.

02. Who is your favorite character and why? Was it love at first sight? Has any of their qualities or quirks swayed you on characters in other series?

Van. The guy grew on me after my second watch, it's easy to sympathise with him.

03. Which side are you on? What do you think happens Post-Hitomi when she leaves? Who do you think will be the next opposing power?

This is fanfic area, but I think Basram would get everyone in trouble if not kept in check. Zaibach could resurface years later, too. Or, you know, Hitomi returns and starts a fight :P

04. Least favorite plot point? Was there something you think should have changed? What do you think would have made it better.

I found Millerna and Dryden's love story boring (because there's none?). Van's wings are too corny (lol) What's up with Varie? I'd have liked to see more about the war. Escaflowne's customer service was ridiculous hahaha I had to pause when Folken performed the "let's make Hitomi and Allen a couple" mission.

Movie: I wanted to know more about... everything.

05. OTP? What kind of art and fiction would you like to see? What are some head canons you have for them? What is you NoTP?

Every question is like 10 questions lol This one is pretty obvious: Hitomi x Van of course. If you drop Folken in there I won't mind (not sure if Van or Hitomi would agree though). I like to read so I find fanfics very entertaining and comfy. I like art too so fanarts are welcome. Alright my headcanon is… Hitomi comes back to Gaea, finds her place in there, marries Van of course, and the whole planet is in peace.

NoTP: Van and Dilandau. Van/Hitomi x OC (unless you convince me).

06. What would you like to see in a figurative remake/sequel? Would you include more minor characters? Would you want a whole new story that could be a stand alone?

I've lived long enough to see failed sequels shit on a perfect story so I'd go for standalone story or a backstory, like Goau's life, Varie's story, Moleman's, Leon's adventures, and so on.

07. Movie, Series, Game, or Manga preference? What are things you did/didnt like of each?

I love the movie, I love everything about it except for it to be so short, unable to expand on the new universe they built.

The series is great, we'll always wonder what would Escaflowne be if only they got all the episodes they needed and didn't have to pack everything in 26 episodes. A monumental work.

Everything else is meh to me. I've read both mangas and watched the extra scenes of the videogame. I haven't read the LNs for obvious reasons.

08. Do your favorite impression! Bonus points if you can do a conversation with a scene cut in!

floats in the middle of the room inside a levistone, taking a nap

09. What do you think about the idea of a re-dub? What are your feelings about the current cast selection for Van (and others if more are introduced)?

I haven't seen the english dub but I've seen the latino one. I wouldn't mind a re-dub, even if I feel that nowadays actors lack heart. Van's VA, Jesús Becerro, died some years ago so I'd prefer to watch it like it is for nostalgia's sake.

As for the japanese cast… it's perfect, period.

I love Maaya Sakamoto's voice (Hitomi), a shame I don't like her music. Tomokazu Seki (Van) surprised me, he's also Kougami's VA in Psycho-Pass (I love his voice in PP) and I didn't notice until certain line he said reminded me of some other character (Gilgamesh).

10. Recite your top five characters by name.

Van. Hitomi. Folken. 5 is a lot.

Secondary: Gadess, Ruhm, Moleman, Balgus, Yukari.

Fin

[sleepynegress]

Guess Who Already Got a Season 3 Filmed?

UPLOAD is back. I am down for the strike, but selfishly happy this show got another season filmed. It'll drop in October. That second season was mid so I'm hoping they recapture the magic they had in season 1.

So, I said some ish in the tags, but I'm gonna make my case for why #ThisIsARec (at least season one is) here, since I never see or hear much talk about it! The show centers on a young woman named Nora (played by Prince protegee and Cameroonian actress and musician Andy Allo) who is in a capitalist future dystopia working as a low-paid customer service agent for a digital "after-life" conglomerate. So, it is one of the only shows lead by a black woman (mixed race). One of her clients is a newly dead digital "upload" of a man who may have been murdered for his freeware version of a digital afterlife (played the non-problematic member of the Amell family, Robbie). The show is a sitcom, without multi-cams or laugh tracks, created by the people who brought us Parks and Rec. It dropped in the mid-2010's but is weirdly prophetic with all the near-future markers, from masks to casual treatment of insane classicism and an inflation economy, far-beyond living wages...

There are even hints at the solar-punk solution that was well covered in Pop Culture Detective's recent video about it, centered on the Disney bomb (another one that they didn't promote but should have, Strange World another rec, btw). It's dark comedy, but somehow comforting to watch too? IDK how they did it. The leads have good chemistry ( a scene where she touches his arm has more heat than full-blown sex scenes in other media) and she actually has black family and a black BFF(!), which is like a 'there can be only one' Highlander rarity in media...They never let WOC/black women socialize in these things! Mind you, I did think her friend, Aleesha, played by Zainab Johnson leaned a little bit too much on the sassy trope, but after rewatching, I like that she round-the-way, but *still* the smartest in the room. It's just QT and charming and a lovely uplifting watch, with an underpinning of that dark laughter of recognition of how well it skewers capitalism.

And the lead couple is *chinhands* shippable. It's a very quick binge with 9 half-hour eps and one slightly longer pilot ep. You know I am super-picky with my recs. I can distinguish from my terrible but beloved media which you won't see me tag with #thisisarec.

So, even tho that second season is a rushed, mid, disappointment... #ThisIsARec

UPLOAD is on AmazonPrime

[icemankazansky]

Tag Game: Get to Know Me

Thanks for the tag, @brendaonao3! (Note for people who tag me in tag games: I love to be tagged in tag games, even though my typical response time suggests otherwise.)

Name: Carly

Pronouns: she/her

Star sign: Maverick sun, Iceman rising Sagittarius sun, Leo rising, Pisces moon

Number of siblings (+ any fun facts): One of each, both younger. They look like each other, but I don't look like them at all. (Oddly, my sister and I both look like our mother, but in different ways.) When my sister and I were little, my mom used to have to tell people that yes, we had the same father. (Bc people think it's fine to ask stuff like that? Also I have very curly hair, and it's a recessive trait that one person in every generation on my mom's side gets, but people are so weird about natural curls, and every new hair dresser I see asks, "Who did you get them from?" and a disturbing number of them have made jokes about my mother's infidelity and my questionable parentage when I inform them no, neither of my parents have curls. Who raised y'all?)

Number of pets & their names: Currently, I myself only have one animal, my dog, Elio. But 1. I am actively looking for another dog, 2. My family has a ton of dogs, and 3. We all volunteer for dog rescues (Yes, plural. My sister actually started her own 503c NPO rescue a couple years ago bc her own, like, extra credit financing of homeless dog medical bills was going to bankrupt her, so she had to start a charity so people could donate. She specializes in senior and special needs dogs, but works with local city and county animal control agencies so she gets a lot of breeder and hoarder surrenders, and subsequently ends up with, for example, 18 purebred Bernese Mountain Dog puppies several times a year.) The point is, there's, like, a whole lot of dogs in here.

Fandoms: They are legion. Mostly active in Top Gun rn. Again. Still. Still again.

Favorite song: They too are legion, but include Fiona Apple - I Know, Fleetwood Mac - Silver Springs, Hozier - From Eden, Lake Street Dive - Good Kisser, Bad Company - Bad Company, Natalie Merchant - My Skin. Lately, I'm listening to the following a very normal amount: Tracy Chapman - You're the One (it is Icemav af BTW check it out)

Favorite author: Fiction: Neil Gaiman. Nonfiction: Mary Roach.

Favorite fic type: I like established relationships, true love and people just enjoying each other, and happy endings.

Favorite holiday: Ugh I hate this. Um, New Years Eve.

Do you have a partner (romantic, qpr, etc)?: I already told you I have a dog. Nope.

Hobbies: Dogs, writing, art of various kinds (mostly drawing, some painting, and I am always trying new things like building a tufted headboard, teaching myself to sew, or making custom funko pops), gif making, Val Kilmer.

Fun facts about you: I've never had a cavity. I ran over myself with my own car. I can't figure out if I have 12 tattoos or 13. I can French and Dutch braid my own hair. My favorite perfume is Chance by Chanel, but I also wear Daisy by Marc Jacobs if I want something lighter.

[behindtheireyes]

First off since this is my first time back on the desktop site in ages I feel the need to say how much I hate the changes that were made. If I wanted to see a website that's like Twitter, it will always be Twitter for me not this fucking X bullshit, I'd log onto my Twitter! Which I never do because I hate the fucking layout!

Also since I'm going to be on here a bit more often, in theory at least, I will not take sides in anything or be involved with drama. I will interact with anyone I connect with or can deal with my slow as fuck ass :P

I also want to thank the two people who have been there for me to talk to about this but I will not tag them because, again, not taking sides. You both know who you are and I appreciate you both more than you'll ever realize <3

Now it's time for an explanation as to why I've been in a shit head space since the end of July which I will put under a read more for those that aren't interested.

On July 30th I was at work and got pulled into the office to talk with my Store Manager, she had a few papers in hand and asked me to sit down. The day before she'd received an email about corporate restructuring and I was being told my full time position with the company was eliminated. I was completely thrown for a loop since I had been working at another store for a few days a week as of the week of July 9th and had only spoken to my district manager a few days prior about what needed to be fixed at the store I was helping. Everything had seemed good when we spoke so I was pretty shaken up by this news.

I was told I could continue on doing my job as part time making $9.75 an hour or take a severance deal and collect unemployment. I of course said I needed to think about it since it was a big decision going from 36-40 hours a week at $16.85/hr down to god knows how many hours at a shit wage. My SM, who was bawling like a baby along with me at this news btw, said she understood but FUCKING CORPORATE wanted an answer by Friday July 28th. The date this conversation was happening? Wednesday July 26th.

Yes, you read that right, Two whole days to make a huge decision and if I didn't give them one in time I was forfeiting my severance and it would be considered voluntary job abandonment so no unemployment for me! Also if I chose the deal I couldn't take any time off, use any of my PTO or sick time, or even call off because it would be considered voluntary job abandonment and I wouldn't get unemployment or my severance.

This happened company wide with even some assistant managers losing their jobs and being offered a similar deal. I will gladly send links to the Reddit subs talking about this if anyone wants to see exactly the fuckery this company is putting its loyal people through. I had almost three weeks of paid vacation and about two days of sick time built up that I lost.

I would have also been with the company for ten years in November and I worked through the worst of Covid being treated like shit by the customers for trying to enforce the company's and CDC's rules. I was also a manager for 7 or so of those almost ten years.

Then on August 1st I had a surgery consultation for a health issue only to be told it's worse that they thought and I would need a procedure that would land me in the hospital for a week with a TWO month recovery time. Thankfully my health insurance, as crappy as it is, is independent from my job so I'm not losing it but whose going to hire someone whose going to have to go out on medical leave in a couple of months? This wouldn't have been a problem before, you know sick time and PTO for the win, but now it is. I know my boss would gladly hire me back after I recovered but it's going to be at a shitty wage with shitty hours.

So do I put my health aside and risk my issue getting worse and try to find another job right away or hope my former company doesn't screw me over anymore and lets me collect until I'm fully recovered?

Thankfully, I won't be homeless but that's another issue for another day.

I'm not looking for sympathy, monetary help, or anything like that. I just felt like I owed the wonderful people I interact with here a proper explanation of to why I've been more out of it than normal.

Thanks for taking the time to read this.

Love,

Barb

[scalefeathers]

well huh.

So I never claimed to be good at these here socials media, and, case in point, I didn’t realize until yesterday (because I hadn’t thought to check) that my blog wasn’t showing up in search suggestions, nor were my posts findable through tag searches. (Many thanks to @bluedaddysgirl for noticing this, and bringing it to my attention!)

Turns out I had a couple reblogs (one from 2015, one from 2016) that had been flagged for ‘offensive content’ (one of which absolutely was, being a reblog of an Oglaf comic from before the Great Tumblr Porn Purge; the other one was imo debatable but certainly not worth fighting over). Anyway, I have since deleted the offending reblogs, and lo and behold, I and my posts are now searchable!

I’m mostly feeling baffled and bemused by this, and by how difficult and not-obvious it was for me to (A) figure out my stuff was being squashed, (B) figure out I had flagged reblogs, and (C) figure out that these two things might be related. (Technically this is still just supposition; I still haven’t found any confirmation that reblogging offensive content could have this kind of impact. Tumblr’s FAQ mentions that *posting* offensive content may get your account marked as ‘explicit’, but that doesn’t seem applicable because (1) these were reblogs, not posts, and (2) I was still able to use custom headers and avatars, which explicit accounts are not supposed to be able to use. So idk, but I’m tagging @support just in case; y’all lmk if you want me to provide screenshots or anything. I know I’m kind of oblivious a lot of the time, but I still feel like there’s room for improvement with the UX here. God, can you tell I work in tech?

Anyway, I’ve got no idea how long this was going on, but it does make me feel a little better about not getting more notes on my work these past few months. (Yes I know notes are not an objective measure of quality or worth, but try telling that to the dopamine-producing parts of my brain). I’m not sure what to do now. Should I re-post the artwork so it will re-surface in the tags? Should I make a post tagged with my main fandoms being like ‘hey, btw I’m here, come look at my stuff’? Should I just carry on as before? That’s probably what’s going to happen, but I’m open to suggestions.

TL;DR: if you’re following me for my art, it might be worth going through the ‘my art’ tag, there may well be stuff in there that you missed! and if you want to reblog said stuff to help it get some extra exposure, I certainly wouldn’t mind!

[militaryonline]

Lc smith shotgun disassembly

The tag for the gun from the factory calls it an AN AUTOMATIC SAFETY and says it has 3 positions. If you don't mind, Since I can't get a copy of the book now, I need some information on assembly of the safety. I tried some other websites and local gun stores and no one had the book available now. Midwayusa was the only one that told me they were out of stock and the book is on back order. Of the ones I was able to contact none had a copy of Chicoine's book. I tried contacting the references you gave me above. That said.there are different vintages of "Elsies" as an example.i had a customer bring one in that he wanted the barrel shortened and the chokes at cylinder bore.his Snowshoe Hare gun.I told him about the value thing and suggested he run his gun by Hershal Chadick(first Mr Chadick listened to the data and responded."It'll make a great rabbit gun!" I suggest that you check out yours FIRST. Being unmodified and original is at the top of the list that make them collectible and valuble. Why? because Elsies are highly collectible SxS shotguns. The only think that makes me leery is the idea of drilling a hole in the stock. Moyock,NC 27958 (252)435-2340 Tom's e-mail address: sounds like "Necessity is the Mother of Invention" In fact the gunsmith supply house BROWNELLS has compiled a 4 volume set of just such Gunsmith Kinks which is how I do it books.if this works for you Go for it.BTW the tapered punch is suggested by Dave Chicoine in his book, the one I cited Antique Firearms Assembly/Disassembly. BTW here is a couple of "Elsie" smiths that have parts and advice: A-1 Gun Parts 1505 West Hillsborough Ave Tampa,FL 33603 (813)237-6320 and Tom Cole 446 Caratoke Hwy. The first ones I made were surface hardened with found that the hard steel often damaged the gun have some that I drilled relief holes in the shaft nose/center for those jobs where "over" is needed. I have several round shaft screw drivers that I have modified into "line up punches".from very thin to 5/16ths" in dia. Since there is quite a bit of spring tension, the punch should be STRONG and long enough to give you the mechanical advantage. This is used to lever the assy into postion as you finish putting the TP into its home. ALWAYS START DISASSEMBLY WITH RECOCKING THE HAMMERS.With everything assembled to the point that the trigger plate can be installed.You start the TP partially into position, then insert a tapered pin punch thru the hole in the trigger plate and into the bottom of the top lever. When fully reassembled with snap caps in place, place 'off safe' and pull the triggers to drop the hammers. Roll the 'roller' forward as you push down on the forend. IF THE HAMMERS WERE DROPPED WHILE DISASSEMBLED, YOU MUST RE-COCK THE HAMMERS BEFORE REPLACING THE FOREND. Replacing the forend with the J- spring in the proper position against the forend lug. Reassembling by closing the action with snap caps in place. FOR REASSEMBLY- carefully place the barrels back ON the receiver. Turn the top lever to the right, partially open the gun.įully open the gun and carefully life the barrels off the receiver. With a 'snap on' forend, simply pull up on the forend. Roll the 'roller' FORWARD while pulling up on the forend. Place gun rib down on a cushioned surface Turn top lever to the right (snap caps are visible) BE SURE THE GUN IS UNLOADED!įully open the gun to cock the hammers, then close the gun. Place gun 'on safe' middle position with a 3 position safety, rear with a 2 position safety. How do I disassemble and assemble my L.C.

[bubblyhoney]

win for me

warnings: lAnGuAgE, alcohol consumption (both reader and all other characters are of age to drink), marijuana use, Making Out™️, a miniscule Flowers from 1970 reference. PSA: WHEN UR INTOXICATED AND/OR AT A PARTY, TELL UR FRIENDS WHO YOU WILL BE WITH AND WHERE YOU WILL BE AT ALL TIMES. DRINK AND PARTY SAFELY!

tags: sapnap x fem!reader

summary: a collection of moments throughout the beginning of your relationship

words: 5000

A/N: even though this isn’t my most organized or perfect fic this was so incredibly fun to write. and it’s a college!au!! one of my favs. hope you guys like!! let's pretend the pandemic doesn't exist for this one too (please wear ur masks btw)

-

Sophomore Year:

Smells like shit in here is your first thought upon entering the laundromat.

It does, in all honesty. What would you expect a place where college students wash three months of dirty clothes and comforters with vomit to smell like? Urine and just a hint of marijuana, incidentally. The door closes noisily behind you and a guy in a black baseball hat turns his head at the noise. Half of his face is hidden underneath the shadow of his scruff and he says nothing, but you still offer an obligatory polite-stranger smile. The place is pretty deserted, what for it being nearly 4 in the morning. And you’re a rare kind of customer; only a few things to wash and you brought your own detergent.

There’s an empty washer next to an old woman in an acid-trip of a parka, and you sweep past the few other patrons with your mesh bag close. The man in the hat nods at you as you pass, looking up from his phone.

Okay. Dark load in one and delicates in the other, you remind yourself. The quarters get pushed through the slot (not without dropping three and having to scramble to pick them up before they disappear between the machines) and you fill the dispensers with a flowery laundry detergent your roommates hates. Oh, and the clothes go in. Done. You relax into a cracked plastic booth around the corner of the machine, pulling a book of crosswords from your bag.

Somebody yelps halfway through filling out a five letter word (“a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep”) and you jump. Baseball Cap rips open the dryer, fumbling around and supplying a pair of gray sweatpants. You can’t help but watch. He digs through both front pockets, pulling out a wad of dollar bills. He sighs, shoves the pants back into the dryer, and starts it with a hard push.

“Gut feeling?” You ask. He looks around for a second and settles his gaze upon you. Nice eyebrows, you think.

“Yeah,” he laughs, slightly nervous. “Yeah. I wore them yesterday and just remembered I put some tip money in my pocket.” Leaning back onto the shelf behind him, he shoves his phone into his pocket and folds his arms tight to his chest.

“I feel you,” you empathize, and set down your pencil. “I washed a parking ticket with my underwear last week.”

He stutters out a laugh, nodding.

“That must’ve sucked,” he adds.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “I wasn’t going to pay it anyways, but would’ve been nice to keep it for memory’s sake.” Rubbing at your knee offhandedly, you just watch him. He’s cute. And easy to make conversation with.

“Hey, um,” he mutters and clears his throat. “Do you by chance know some guy named Karl? Tall, messy brown hair and a horrible laugh?”

You open your mouth, then close it.

“Actually—,” you start but huff out a laugh. “Yeah, he’s uh, he’s dating my roommate. Why’d you ask?”

Reaching a hand to rub at his neck, his face twists into something sheepish.

“I’ve seen you at some parties this semester. I didn’t mean to sound creepy like that— I just—yeah.” His cheeks flush pink and he looks down to the ground.

“No worries,” you say, barely even thinking. “I think I’ve seen you too. You’re in Delta Tau Delta, right?”

“Nah, nah,” he laughs. “Just got some friends in there.”

“Ah.” You nod.

The conversation falls into silence, but not uncomfortable silence. He pulls out his phone again, and you look back to the crossword in front of you. The old woman between you leaves with a humongous load of blankets and a small family leaves with a cart full of bags; now it’s just you two.

When the washer with your delicates ding you nearly jump two feet in the air. Exhaling, you set your work down and open the door.

“Shit,” you curse as two bras fall onto the tile. You reach down to get a hand on a black lace bra and hide it quickly under your elbow. A sneaker squeaks loud in the almost-empty room and you see Baseball Cap’s shoulders.

“Here.” He’s kneeling as he hands you your pink bra and you accept it, biting your lower lip.

“Thanks,” you mumbles, slightly embarrassed, and step back to shove those bras and a couple pairs of your underwear into your bag. He offers you a small smile and backs off to his own machines, humming an off-key version of Unchained Melody to himself. Your other load of laundry gets shoved right on top of your delicates.

It’s when you’re nearly out the door, bell jingling, that you think to look back.

“Hey,” you start, almost stuttering for no reason. “What’s your name?”

He turns, dark eyebrows raised.

“My—uh… My friends call me Sapnap. You can call me that too.” Rosy cheeks once again; you seem to be making him awfully nervous.

“Sapnap.” You try it in your mouth, pursing your lips. “Okay. I’ll see you around Sapnap.”

He nods, affirming your statement.

“See you around Y/N.”

It doesn’t hit you until you’re buckling your seatbelt and starting your car that you realize you didn’t tell him your name.

Perhaps he knew more about you than you thought.

Yeah, you laugh to yourself. Karl’s got a big mouth.

Junior Year:

It takes you a collective twelve minutes to go talk to him.

It’s quiet in the library, students that happen to come here to study or procrastinate few and far between the scattered tables. Your poison today is a 4 page history paper on Normandy that you’d been staring at the instructions for for days. You’d already written a bunch of, frankly, horseshit for the body, but the introduction and conclusion were throwing you for a loop.

The vibes in Ridgeback Hall were also certainly off, today more than any other day; the main help-desk was empty and everybody had to do the tedious task of locating niche textbooks themselves.

Lifting your head from the wood of the table, you squint and focus your vision on the guy in the white tee and denim jacket that had been the focus of your thoughts for minutes. He chews at the end of his pencil, mouth screwed up into a ball, and shoots daggers at the empty notebook in front of him. You’re surprised it hasn’t caught on fire yet just from his gaze.

“Sapnap!” You whisper-shout, stretching your arms across the table as if it would make him any closer. A person with purple hair jumps at your voice but turns back to their laptop. “Sapnap!” you try again, tapping two fingers on the table. His head jerks up, eyebrows furrowed and an angry expression on his face, but softens at the sight of you.

“Y/N,” he counters, equally as loud but with a smile on his face.

“What’re you doing?”

“Calculus.” He sticks his tongue out, making an awfully tortured face. You laugh and wave your fingers at him, gesturing for him to come closer. He just huffs out a sigh, stacks all his papers in one pile, and gets up. The trek over to your table is short but he takes it so slowly you wonder if he always walks like that. Like a varsity basketball player who just got off a horse.

“You’re so slow.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles and settles into a chair across from you. “It’s 2 pm, give me a break. I need a Redbull.”

“Those are bad for you, you know,” you say matter-of-factly and drop your chin onto your hand. He’s even cuter from this angle, you think briefly. He just rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, Miss I’d-like-some-coffee-with-my-sugar-and-cream,” he teases, pointing to your venti iced coffee. It’s about as pale as the color of a band-aid. You just sigh and close your eyes. “You tired?” He flips his pencil in his hand and leans back into the seat, sighing.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I haven’t slept yet today.”

“Wow, you’re dumb.” He looks scandalized. You just shrug.

“Perhaps. I don’t really know why I did it actually— just for funzies!” You raise an arm but let it drop back down. “I stayed up playing Sims.”

“Feel that. I play Minecraft with my buddies until like 2 am every night too. It’s nice,” he decides and folds his arms across his chest. Your eyes flit over to his strong arms, admiring the way his denim shirt looks around them. Thick.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” He says too loudly and it warrants a ‘shush’ from another student. He reddens, but looks back down to you. “I—why do you ask?” You shrug, eyebrows raised.

“Just wondering. You’re too cute to not have one.”

“Right,” he huffs, but his cheeks stay pink. You two fall into easy silence, his eyes trained on the notebook in front of him and yours closed peacefully. “Are you dating anyone?”

They snap open not-so-peacefully.

“Nope. You wanna submit a boyfriend application?” A smile cracks your lips and he grins back.

“Maybe,” he replies and stares at your mouth. “I have to say—,” He stretches into a yawn. “I think I’m qualified.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your eyebrow quirks. “And why are you so qualified?”

“Well, first of all, I work at Ace Hardware. That’s where cool people work.” He presses one finger into his palm. Then two. “And I have a bunch of free time because said job at Ace Hardware only likes scheduling me in the mornings. Plus, I’m hot.” He shrugs.

You nod faux-seriously, considering his list.

“Those are very good qualities, sir. I’ll have to get back to you on that.” You pause. “Okay, I’ll schedule an interview. How’s 7 pm at the Chili’s on Main? Chili’s is the designated interview place.” You wiggle your eyebrows. He just smiles at you, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was smooth.”

“Yeah, I know.” You carefully study your nails. “I’m pretty impressive.”

“Clearly,” he mutters and chuckles. “But I do like their salsa. And margaritas. We got a deal?” He holds out a large hand. You take it, squeezing tightly.

“Hell yes.”

When you see the man called Sapnap a week later, you are very obviously in a different state of mind.

Same state, same college town, but very different blood alcohol contents.

“Sappy!” You shout, raising your arms above your head with a stupid grin on your face. He turns, that familiar look of surprise evident in his expression.

“Y/N,” he laughs and approaches your group of friends in the kitchen. It’s Greek Wedding night at Delta Tau Delta, and you assume Sapnap came to support Delta’s “groom” Alex. You’d gotten uncharacteristically drunk, trading air for sangria, and you were now in the incredible stage where everyone was both your friend and your favorite person.

Throwing an arm around his shoulders, you mash your face into his bicep and giggle.

“Missed you so much,” you try to manage out of your mouth, but it comes out slurred and stuttered. “So much.” You’d gone to Chili’s two days before and promised another ‘interview’ in the next few days, but it felt like two months away from your beloved. Beloved friend, that is. Only one date.

“Yeah?” He places a hesitant hand on your back and nudges you into a standing position. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Oh, shhhh,” you mumble and close your eyes. “Only— a lot.” Blinking them back open, you zero your gaze in on a bottle of Ciroc half-empty and looking very tempting on the kitchen island across from where you’re leaned up against the kitchen sink. He catches your gaze and steps in front of you, pleasant face filling your vision. You gasp.

“You are so cute.” Sliding your palms up onto his face, you hold his scruffy cheeks in your hands and smile all dopey at him.

“Is that your brain or the alcohol telling you that?”

“Uh,” you swallow. “Both. And my heart.”

He just shakes his head and his chest moves with a heavy laugh.

“Glad to hear it.”

“Are you having fun?” You ask, all concerned and furrowed eyebrows. You look like you’re genuinely interested and worried about if he’s having a good time or not, and it makes his expression melt.

“I’m having lots of fun,” he passes over his shoulder as he flips on the tap and fills a red solo cup with water. “In fact, I’m gonna have a nice, cold glass of water right now.” He shakes it like an owner offering their dog a treat.

You eye the cup in his hand, having half a thought that this might be some sort of backwards psychology move. The other half wins.

“That sounds so good right now— can I drink some?” Your eyebrows pull together and your bottom lip drops into a pout. It makes him blink for a second. He remembers the little game you’re playing and just hands it over, smug. You gulp it down quickly and crush the empty plastic into your palm with an exaggerated exhale. “Hit the spot,” you sigh, and pat your stomach fondly.

“You hungry?” Sapnap asks you as he steadies you with two hands on your shoulders. Something pops into your head at his words: a set of two McChickens and an Oreo milkshake.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, and mirror him by placing your hands on his shoulders. “Can we go to McDonald’s?”

He just shakes his head, grin wide on his lips, and shrugs. Perfect teeth, you think.

“I haven’t drank anything, so I’m good to drive.” He pulls his keys from his pocket. “I know you’re smashed right now so—do you feel safe with me?” The question falls from his mouth and you truly consider it, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Yeah. I’ll take this just in case,” you say, and take a large dinner fork from the counter next to you. It has some red liquid on it that you brush off onto the fabric of your jeans.

“That’s actually gross.”

“Yeah.” You grip it tighter in your head. “But it’ll do the job if you try any shit. I’ll put this in your eyeball.” Brandishing it, a smile stretches onto your mouth. He just shakes his head and heads for the back door, jerking a hand in your direction to get you to follow him.

The cool night air explodes on your face when you step onto the porch and it makes you blink rapidly. Sapnap is right at your side, offering a forearm as you slowly make your way down the two back porch steps. A tall blonde smoking half of a blunt makes a grunt noise as you two pass and your knight-in-shining armor looks up.

“Gonna go get some food. Want anything?” Sapnap stops on the rocky path to the sidewalk, tilted up to hear the blonde’s response. The other guy shakes his head but nods to you in passing.

“I’ll tell her friends where she went,” says the blonde, and disappears through the sliding glass doors.

Your hand falls from his forearm to his hand and grasps it tightly, swinging back and forth as you stumble to his car. You flash him a grin that he just chuckles at.

“Watch your step,” he warns as you yank on the handle of the passenger door and nearly fall off of the curb.

“I’m fine,” you huff, and scramble to get yourself upright into the seat and buckled. He closes your door and jogs to the driver’s seat, climbing in and starting the engine quicker than your head comprehends.

The small space fills with the sound of Letters to Cleo as he’s maneuvering out of his parking spot and he slaps a hand at the stereo button almost immediately. His cheeks redden as he glances at you once.

“I love Letters to Cleo,” you admit, and switch it back on. Ah, Co-Pilot. A classic. “Be my co-pilot!” You sing, loud and sharp. He shakes his head but huffs out a reluctant laugh.

“My older sister loved them. Bit old for my taste, but—you know. Can’t deny that I love a little bit of 90’s angst.”

“Absolutely,” you nod vigorously and pick at your nail. “Oh!” The fork magically reappears at your side and you grab at it. “For my McChickens.”

“And for me,” he adds.

“Yup. You too.” But you drop it onto the seat and lean forward, fumbling with the volume dial until you feel the lead singer’s voice thumping into your heart. “I love this lady!” You shout and rock your head to the beat.

Shaking his head, his shoulders move in an easy laugh. The drive-thru line is kind of busy for 2 am, he notes, pulling in right behind a navy BMW sedan. But it moves quickly, especially when you’re moving in your seat, scream-singing the lyrics to I Want You To Want Me.

“Yeah,” he says, loud into the mic. “Two.”

“Alright.” The voice reports from the speaker, a background clicking joining their bored tone. “Two McChickens, a double cheeseburger—ketchup and pickle only— , a medium fry, and an Oreo McFlurry. Anything else, sir?”

Sapnap chews on his lip, and glances at you. You just give an encouraging thumbs up.

“That’ll be all,” he reports.

“Second window, and your total is $9.67.”

He barely has time to call a “thank you so much!” before the line ends with a click. Rude.

“Jesus Christ,” you moan the second you sink your teeth into your first sandwich.

“Agreed,” he mumbles and pushes as much cheeseburger he can fit into his mouth.

“This,” you start, swallowing. “is the sexiest thing I’ve encountered in all of my years. I thank all higher powers when I consume McChickens…” Trailing off for dramatic effect, you stare down the sandwich before mimicking a dinosaur war cry and practically shoving it down your throat. He just nods in agreement.

“It’s so nice out tonight,” Sapnap comments, swinging a look out his rolled-down window. He parked right in front of the Campus Quad, large bubbling fountain the show to your dinner. And some geese fighting each other for half a rotting hot dog.

“Mhm.” You crumple up your wrapper trash and toss it into the empty paper bag. “Could totally go for a swim.”

He turns and gives you a look. You look right back.

“Should we?” It’s barely a question.

“Um, hell yes,” is all it takes for you to say before you’re clambering out of the car and starting for the fountain. He follows closely after, jogging to catch up with your borderline track-star sprints.

“Wait up!” He calls as you reach the border of the fountain.

“Ugh,” you sigh, impatient. “Hurry up.”

“Mouthy,” he grumbles before kicking off his shoes and bending to fold his pants up over his knees. You just climb straight in and brave the cold.

Squealing, you hop from one foot to the other, shoulders tight as you get used to the freezing water. He laughs and climbs in right beside you.

“Shit,” he curses, and shivers. “This sucks.”

“You suck,” you quip right back and splash around. He stares, disgusted, at the water soaking up your jeans all the way up to your knees.

“You’re gross for wearing jeans in a fountain. That’s worse than wet socks.” He starts to move around as feeling comes back into his toes.

“What, would you prefer me taking my pants off?” A sassy look paints your face and he rolls his eyes.

“No, but you could’ve folded them up like a normal person.”

“I think you forget,” you start, and splash a palmful of water his way. “I’m quirky.”

He gasps, face twisting as the water hits his thighs.

“You’re dead.”

If campus police were patrolling the Quad right now, they’d see two college juniors wading around in a fountain, water up to their knees, having a competition to see who can inflict the most damage. He won, it seems, because your shirt is drenched all the way up to your ribs.

“Okay!” You shout, hands spread to brace yourself. The water in his palm falls. “I’m cold and I want my other McChicken.”

“Fine,” he sighs, and with some difficulty manages to get out of the fountain and back into his shoes. You just make your way back over to his car barefoot, braving the mulch and poorly-sanded concrete.

You both finish your food quickly, discussing menial things like how fast food restaurants always skimp on the pickles and how it’s truly a disservice to the world that so many people don’t know it’s Biggie singing the song Kat dances on the table to in the 1999 classic 10 Things I Hate About You.

When Sapnap pulls up to your house, he shifts the car into park and lets loose a heavy sigh. You whip around, hand on your buckle, and sport a very confused look on your face.

“I’m tired,” is all he says. Head falling onto the seat, he rolls over to give you a half-lidded look. You nod empathetically and climb very carefully out of his passenger seat. Your drunk muscles haven't caught up to your mainly sober brain, which is impairing your ability to look like a functioning human being.

“Thank you for tonight,” you chirp, smiling in at him with your arms folded on the open window sill. The half-drank Oreo McFlurry is lukewarm in your hand. He stares at your flushed lips.

“Anytime you want a drunk McChicken let me know.” He winks. “I have a gift card.”

“You spoil me,” you coo, and step up onto the sidewalk. “I’ll see you sometime soon, yeah?”

He nods, pursed lips fighting a grin.

Cute, you both think at the same time.

Sometime soon, somehow, means the very next day.

It’s breezy yet uncharacteristically hot out, and certainly way too bright for a hungover Y/N.

You’re sat on the porch swing, nursing a hot decaf coffee with lots of sugar and cream. Sunglasses sit comfortably on your nose, but you still have to squint. The pills you took have yet to kick in, so all you have to do is wait and try not to vomit into your mug. Suddenly, your phone lights up and buzzes to life. You press the green button and lift to your ear.

“What do you want?” Your voice is awfully froggy, you realize, and clear your throat.

“Good morning to you too.” Sapnap’s voice rings clear yet husky into your ear. The corners of your lips twitch up into a smile. God, you’re whipped just for the sound of his voice.

“It is definitely not a good morning,” you grumble and switch him into speaker phone. You drop the phone into your lap and stretch out further on the swing.

“Good morning for me,” he chirps cheerfully. “Take anything for the headache?”

“Yes,” you report, sounding like a pouting child and rubbing two fingers into your temple. “Some idiot fed me ice cream last night so this morning I woke up having to both shit and throw up.”

“Aww,” he sympathizes, sounding way too entertained. “That sounds like a you problem.” You stuck out your tongue, but upon realizing he can’t see it, make a ‘hmph’ noise into the mic. “Anyways. I called to see if you wanted to go get breakfast with me. Waffle House, specifically.” You make a face but lift yourself up off the swing, wincing.

“I saw a rat eat an entire piece of french toast there once. But—sure. I’ll pay.” He starts to whine, but you scoff. “Let me love you, bitch. You pay for my McDonald’s and I pay for your pancakes. Easy trade.”

“Whatever. See you in five.” He hangs up right as you twist the front door open and drop your phone onto the couch.

“Who’re you talking to?” comes from the kitchen and you jump, pressing a hand to your chest. A shirtless Karl enters the living room with a bowl of fruit loops in his hand.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, and duck into the hall closet for your pair of dirty tennis shoes. “I was talking to Sapnap.”

“Oh,” he says around his mouthful of cereal with a grin. “You guys dating yet?”

You pass him a weird look, bending to tie your shoes.

“Gimme like two weeks. I’ll have him at my beck and call,” you laugh and collapse back into the couch.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He quirks an eyebrow and exits stage left into your roommate’s room.

The few minutes it takes for Sapnap to come to your house are short but filled with contemplation. Do you really want to date him? He’s certainly cute enough. Nice enough. And smart enough. He seems to like you too—

A honk interrupts your thoughts. Always having to be obnoxious, huh?

“You’re annoying,” you mumble as you buckle your seatbelt. He just shrugs, tiny smile tugging his lips, and shifts into drive. The short trip to Waffle House proves more quiet than lively. He seems awake, actually, so you attribute the silence to your tumultuous thoughts. The music is nice, though. Bikini Kill is perfect for 10 am.

After you two order (three chocolate chip pancakes for him and two regular waffles with a side of hashbrowns for you), he finally breaks the silence.

“Hey, are we dating?”

You pause with your lip on the rim of your orange juice. Your gaze falls from his lips to his fingers wrapped around the coffee mug. Two silver rings adorn both his middle fingers and they glint underneath the fluorescent lights.

“Do you wanna?” You squint back up at him. The tips of his ears flush pink.

“I-uh… Yeah. Yes,” he says simply. You try to hide a smile, but realize there’s no point.

“Okay.” You take a long drink of your orange juice. “I really like you. A lot. A surprising amount, actually; I haven’t really dated seriously since highschool.”

He nods, shuffling his feet on the tile. What else does he have to be nervous about? you wonder.

“I’ve… kindasortamaybelikedyousincesophmoreyear,” he mumbles and you swallow.

“Huh?” Leaning forward, you set your glass down.

“Um,” he starts but doesn’t finish.

“Did you say you’ve liked me since sophomore year?”

“...Maybe.” His coffee becomes the most interesting thing in the world, apparently. “Do you remember that one time during the Summer Carnival where Karl lost his phone?”

“Uh—yes! Yeah, actually. I do remember that. He found it in the porta-potty. What about it?” The waitress sets down both your plates in front of you and you offer her a smile in thanks before she trundles off to the drink station. You pick up your fork and wait for him to continue.

“I left two hours early because you invited Michael from your computer science class.” You pause around your mouthful of potato and he just stares back, trying not to grin. “Yeah. I thought you were hot and left early because you brought another guy.”

“Michael is gay,” you say slowly.

“Yup.” He nods and shoves a forkful of pancake into his mouth. “Isn’t that so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you tease but your cheeks blush pink.

“Anyways. Now I’m dating you, so. Win for me.”

“Ditto,” you murmur, and manage to fit half of your first waffle into your mouth. “This is the easiest it’s ever been to start dating someone.”

“It’s ‘cause we’re cool, I’m pretty sure,” comes from a mouthful of pancake.

“That’s facts.”

The rest of Pancake House is bustling, a few families with young kids and some other hungover college students scarfing down similar breakfast foods and confections. You two barely give any other customers the time of day, too wrapped up in conversation and each other. The waitress gets a heavy tip after an hour and a half of struggling to swallow dough soaked in syrup and chocolate.

Sapnap walks you to your door after breakfast, hand on your waist and pressed to your side. It feels good. Right.

“I’ll see you Wednesday right?” You ask, turning to him with hopeful eyes. How could he resist?

“Definitely. Wouldn’t miss Game Night for the world— I can’t wait to beat your ass at Uno.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You murmur but you’re already slinging an arm around his shoulder and bringing his mouth down to yours.

You taste like sugar, he thinks. His hands find the small of your back easily, pressing you further forward into him. You hum at that, tracking a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair to grip it between your fingers.

He smells both musky and sweet and cool at the same time: heaven. One of his hands slides up to grip at your neck, thumb rubbing at your jaw, and you make a pleased noise into his mouth. There it is.

“Y/N!” Shrieks from inside your house and you jump, pulling away from Sapnap with a smack.

“What?” You yell back, irritated, and he just laughs as he dips to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Stop tonguing your boyfriend and come help me with my photography project.”

“God damn it,” you sigh and drop your hands. His slide down to just rest on your hips, comfortable. “I have to go.” You're annoyed, that’s for sure, and he prays you aren’t too mean to your roommate.

“Alright.” He dips for a quick kiss one last time. Okay, two more times. Maybe three. But he pulls away, grinning. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

And then he’s stepping off your porch, walking to his car with his hands in his pockets. You watch his back fondly.

God, boyfriend. He’s your boyfriend. Boynap. Sapfriend. You can’t decide on a name, but all sounds perfect.

Perfectly him.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D comments = welcome!