#doll blather

[maleficentmrsofallevil]

ADHSquirrel project time

In true disorganized jumping-bean-brain fashion, I've got multiple projects going at once. I prefer this, actually - I like to cycle through things when brain screams "No more focus on this!"

In no apparent order:

Dollhouse nostalgia: this is a cheap, bad kit from the 90s alternately known as the Greenleaf Allison or the Whitney Cambridge dollhouse. It's made of balsa wood, and the wood warps if you look at it sideways.

I put one together when I was (much, much) younger, and then we threw it away when it started to fall apart. Now I want it back - but this time, I want to put it together so it's a lot more stable.

Plans: reinforce exterior load-bearing walls by creating faux clapboard siding and quoins (the corner pieces) like this:

I found craft wood sheets that are 1/8-inch (3 mm) thick, and I'll be cutting them in 1/2 to 1-inch strips and gluing them to the exterior walls. Then paint and seal. I also like the raised decorations on the window sills and shutters. Hopefully, I have enough craft sheets to do that, too. I got the kind of sheets that are thin enough to cut with a craft knife, and I've got rulers for days. Dreading the sanding, though. So much sanding. Also, I've been researching putting together dollhouses, and I learned that it's better to dry fit the whole thing, secure in place with masking tape, and then glue stuff together. This is - very smart.

Sewing: continues apace. Pattern pieces are cut out for this Requiem Art Design Renaissance gown.

I'll be doing the long, fitted sleeves. The pattern is made for knit fabric, but I'm using a woven fabric (silk dupioni I've been told, but I am not entirely certain what that is), so I incorporated the seam/hem allowances into the edges. I'm not linking to this pattern again, because it has... issues. Let's call them issues. (I'll be sending a write-up of my feedback to the designer once I've finished.)

I've cut out the pattern pieces. Now I'm tracing them onto cereal box cardboard to make pattern "blocks" - then I'll trace them onto yet more paper after I add 1/4-inch seam/hem allowances. I'm also planning to use washable markers to trace the actual patterns onto the fabric. I want to see if the marker actually washes out.

Next up: cutting cheap fabric for a toile/muslin, aka a practice run. Sewing machine has been cleaned and is in good operating condition.

Dress fabric:

I'm using the one on the right for the dress, and the one in the middle (a gorgeous copper in person) for the arm bands and sleeve linings. It's going to be for my Feeple60 girls.

Poor Ria.

Face-ups/blushing: every time I'm in the mood to go downstairs and work on face-ups and blushing, my ankle decides to be a little diva and inform me that under no circumstances will I be able to take the stairs today. This is exceptionally frustrating, but such are the joys of aging, I suppose.

Craftorama room: even more stuff has been cleared out of the master bedroom in preparation for upcoming staycation, when we'll move into the MBR and create Craftorama room. My office has been totally taken over by dolls, and I love it. I walk into the office to work, and all my lovely girls are here to keep me company. Cleaning books off bookshelves and filling a box to donate to the local library/thrift store, so I'll have shelf space for my dolls. Cuz priorities.

I am so excited for Craftorama room; I will not shut up about it. No more ankle-diva-no-stairs. I can close the door and work - no worries about cats trying to play with (and possibly get injured by) sewing notions. And I can finally, FINALLY, restring in peace.

[ihaventcomeupwthanameforaheroyet]

Will you ever make a Louis to silently judge his peers and paramours? (Not me wanting to see the cuddle pile get bigger and the consort be sandwiched between everyone noooo)

Dear Anonymous, that's a good question! A challenging one.

In brief: I don't know. Maybe I would. I know I don't want to. Probably will do it anyway. Certainly not in the nearest future. It's complicated and I wish I had a simple answer.

Detailed explanation under the cut, but I am afraid I might bore you to death with my exercise of self-exploration, therefore, please open at your own risk.

OK. First things first. I find Louis very interesting - both aestetically and as a character - but I don't like him and I don't love him. I don't hate him either, just... indifferent. But each of these dolls costs me a lot of time and effort (maybe due to the lack of skills and talent, or maybe it's just the regular amount of effort in doll customization, IDK - I don't have a mentor or a community to ask if something is wrong with me, and what's the use of asking? I know I'll continue anyway, even if my worst assumptions are true and I have zero talent, which seems very likely), and I can't overcome all these hardships without feeling at least some amount love for the character. Unfortunately, I have no love for Louis. Like, I know there must be a reason why everybody loves him, but... maybe all the things that make him likeable fall into my blind spot? Like, all of them? I have no explanation why I feel no love for a character who is loved by many.

And it's ridiculous. I have an outfit ready and a head for Louis doll, and I know which body type I want to use for him, and I know the necessary body modifications are difficult but not overly so (Armand's body modification was overly difficult, yet somehow I managed), and a dark-haired doll is not half as challenging as the blonds in terms of repaint... The secret ingredient I am lacking is love. And maybe without love I shouldn't even start. Marius taught us we should not make them without love, and I truly believe he knows better! (Yes, there is a difference between customizing a doll and making a fledgling, but there is a bit of similarity, too!)

Except Marius himself wasn't very good at following his own guidelines? Or maybe he was - it's a matter of interpretation. His first three fledglings - Pandora, Amadeo and Bianca - were his loved ones. The next ones, though? He made Benji and Sybelle for Armand and Viktor for Lestat. (Yes. He is the father of Armand's children and Lestat's son. Nothing can ever undo this fact for me.) I can't say he made them without love, but they weren't his loved ones. He made them for his loved ones. He made them out of love he felt for someone else.

And maybe at some point I'll come to this, too. Maybe at some point I'll go “argh, I don't like Louis, but Lestat loves him and my dear Anonymous friend asked about him, and I want to make my loved ones happy”. Maybe at some point I'll reach this level of wisdom. And maybe I'll just understand that the party isn't the same without this guy silently reading his book in the corner. Maybe I will. It's very likely that at some point I will.

But for now? I have a long, long to-do list of characters I love more than Louis. I am not sure if I'll ever find the energy to start working on this doll until all my fauvorites characters are with me.

Alright! Dear Anonymous, thank you for asking and I hope I answered your question. Sorry I couldn't make my answer short. Next time, I'll try better.

[imadhatt3r]

I know that Catty is inspired by a black cat, but do you think that she could be a black panther werecat? My argument is that she has these panther-like spots near her eyes, and I know that it's probably make-up, but they're also on her heart icon on the box? So maybe they're actually permanent?

Since black panthers (who are actually jaguars, a different but closely related species if you didn't know) actually DO have their spots; They're just very hard to see. They're even kinda iredescent, just like Catty's.

[plusultraetc]

when you have a hammer, everything looks like a nail. and when you have Perpetual Present Mic Brainrot, every Noah Kahan song looks like it’s going on his playlist

[ebbywaffle]

i don't even think Rochelle was as bad as ppl were complaining abt but i just... man

[devilinthedetaildesigns]

Do I want her, do I want to be her, or do I just want to dress her in pretty pretty corsets?

[white-elordas-nerdy-lifestyle]

25th July 2023

Found Blathers! Now I just need to find Celeste!

[kudzucataclysm]

yes i have the disaster agents on the mind and they’re making me SICK!!!!! 🤢🤢

[g4yr4t]

just saw an ad aimed at tween girls for purse pets which are like. purses with animal faces and big eyes that blink. I can't tell if they're cute or terrifying or kinda cool.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: double chapters when I know I shouldn't.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“We got a suite available, Amalia?” The man, the owner of this casino, Bucky, asks as he approaches the glass counter of the hotel lobby. You barely keep up as your surroundings smear and your head spins. Everything’s happening so fast. 

“Mr. Barnes,” the woman on the other side greets as she nears the slim monitor, “I think we should.” She glances at him, then your sister as she blathers drunkenly in his arms, “having a good night?” 

“Oh, just some friends in the city for a night,” he lies easily, “she got a bit carried away so we’ll let her sleep it off.” 

You chew your lip as you stand just behind him. Your stomach lurches as your eyes wander around the fine decor. It’s all out of your price range. Again, your brain is a beat behind.  

“Doll, would you get that?” He asks as the desk agent holds out a small folder. 

“Oh, yeah, er,” you rush up to take the room keys, “sorry.” 

“No problem, just got my hands full,” he scoffs, “Amalia, have a good night. Hopefully you don’t get anyone too rowdy.” 

“Thank you, sir, you too,” she preens after him as he heads off across the lobby. 

Once more you’re on his heels as he struts toward the elevators. You catch up to him and force the frog from your throat, “uh, sir, Bucky?” You stammer, “I don’t think... I can afford--” 

“Doll, don’t worry about all that. It's on the house,” he stops before the elevator and stares at the golden doors, “I’m not some sort of grifter. I offered, I’m not gonna squeeze ya. What’s the room number?” 

“Er, oh,” you open the little folder, “720.” 

“Right, hit the button,” he nods before him. 

“Sorry,” you cringe again. You’re so behind. It must be so obvious to him how lost you are. Maybe that’s why he noticed you. He feels bad that someone so pathetic could exist. 

You press the up button and the doors open. He nods you ahead of him and you step into the box. The walls are transparent and you can see outside along the river. He gets in and comes to stand parallel with you as you avoid looking through the glass. 

“Seven,” he says. 

You make another mousy noise and tap the button. You recoil, clutching your hands over your chest, and stare at the doors. As the elevator rises, you feel a wave of head rush, and you sway just a little. You gulp and widen your eyes. 

“Not a fan of heights?” He asks as the box stops sharply and the doors ding and open. 

“Not really,” you mutter. 

He waits for you to exit first and you eagerly do. He follows as you look back and forth between the doors, searching out the number to match the folder. 720, right at the end. You fumble and it takes three tries to swipe the card correctly.  

Finally, the door opens and you push it inward, holding it as you flatten yourself to the wall to let him through. He enters without hesitation. For a moment, you wonder what it must be like to be so sure and so comfortable in a place like this. To have this be your normal.

You let go of the door and trail him further inside. The room is huge. Not just one room, but two. The front room is closed off by a pair of doors, painted white with fine spirals etched into the wood. You flit ahead of Bucky to slide them open and reveal the bedroom. He takes your sister to the bed and lays her down as she lets out a bubbly belch. 

“Sorry,” you apologise on her behalf as you hover in the door. 

“She’s her own person,” he stands back, “you need anything, call down to the desk. They’ll be happy to get you whatever. Oh, and, should probably have some water ready for the morning. She’s gonna be feeling this.” 

“Right,” you push your lip out then quickly fix your face, “thank you. I...” 

“Checkouts at eleven but I’ll tell Amalia to mark you down for a late departure,” he comes towards you slowly. 

“Oh, we won’t stay that long,” you assure him and scrape your palms together. 

“Ah, you got somewhere to be? Work? Gonna be a long day after tonight.” 

“No, I... I don’t...” your eyes drift to the wall. Again, you can’t help but admire the ivory paint and the crystal lamp and tall posts of the bed. “I don’t... have a job.” 

“Mm, tough out there,” he says, “just gotta find the right thing, huh?” 

You want to fold into nothing. This man, a millionaire at least, who owns this whole place, is telling you you’ll find something one day. Just like your mom does when you melt down over another rejection. Ugh. 

“Thanks, yeah,” you take a heavy breath. 

“You’re tired,” he surprises you as he caresses your sleeve, “I’m not gonna keep you up. You get some sleep, alright?” 

You nod and reach to scratch your neck, shifting away from his reach. He’s so much bigger than you that for a moment your stomach is crawling, as the thought occurs of how much control he really has. Not just because of who he is. 

“Good night, doll,” he purrs and brushes by you. 

You stay as you are, staring at your sister, muttering to herself. Why does she have to do this? You could be sleeping in your own bed but instead you’re here, burning in shame and pity. You turn as you hear him near the door. 

“Night,” you offer up. 

He stops and turns back, sending you a wink, “there’s a hot tub in here so... might enjoy the room at least.” 

You force a smile though your stress likely makes it more a grimace. He spins and leaves you, the door shutting with a click and releasing you to your self-reproach. You drop your head in your hands and huff. You are leaving the minute your sister wakes up. You never want to see that man again. You just pray he forgets you just as quickly as you want to forget this whole night. 

🃏

You hardly sleep. Your sister’s drunken snoring keeps you from relaxing for more than twenty minutes at a time, not to mention how unsettled you are. You hate sleeping in new places but moreso you hate that even on a night out, after all the assurance that you could just enjoy yourself, that you are once more a burden for someone else. 

You get up just after six. You rub your forehead as you go out into the front room and look over the amenities. There’s a fancy coffee maker with pods and a mini fridge with a glass door. You take out a bottle of water to leave by the bed for Roxie then return to figure out the coffee. You don’t often have any but your head is pounding. 

You sit down and sneer at the bitterness. Did you make it right? You never liked the taste so you can’t tell. You finish the cup if only for the soothing warmth. 

At seven, you get up to check on Roxie again. She’s still out like a light. Come on! You want to go. 

You rinse the mug in the sink as best you can and return it to the shelf. There’s a knock on the door. You flinch and reluctantly tread down to the hall. You peep through the hole as you fix your clothing. You push down the handle slowly to greet the woman with the cart. 

The golden embroidery on her white blouse marks her as an employee and she beams a smile in your direction. It’s too early for that amount of cheer. She has her hands on the cart, angling it towards the door. 

“Morning, miss, breakfast, complements of Mr. Barnes,” she declares, “where can I put it?” 

“Um,” you back up slowly, “inside... uh, by the table, I guess.” 

She rolls the cart in and asks if you need anything else before she leaves. You shake your head. There’s more than enough there for you and Roxie. If she can even stomach any of it. You’ve seen the way she is after her nights out. 

You sit and stare at the buffet of food before you. Fresh fruit, waffles, pancakes, french toast, bacon, eggs... everything and more. Just another favour to feel bad for. 

As you look over it all, you notice a note, nestled between the glasses beside the pitcher of orange juice. You take it. That must be the bill. You unfold it and read the slanted capitals hand-written across the casino-branded page. 

‘Good Morning, Doll,  

Enjoy breakfast on me. 

B. Barnes’ 

Under his name, is a sharp zigzag of the same black ink, a post script below. 

‘PS. If you’re still looking for a job, call me.’ 

You nearly drop the paper. What? You stare at the digits of his phone number and slowly lower your hand to your lap. This can’t be real. Could you really work at a casino? Would you be a dealer? Or maybe you’d be more suited to a cleaner, somewhere you can be out of the way. 

A long groan interrupts your inner turmoil. You fold the paper and tuck it away. It’s something. You’ll have to just figure out later what. 

“Coffee,” Roxie grumbles as she appears in the doorframe, gripping her skull. 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you get up and go to the machine. You grab a random pod and shove it into the top. 

“Where... how’d we get here?” She sits heavily and reaches for a piece of bacon. 

“Um, you... you were really drunk so...” 

“How the hell did you get us a room? Wait. Did we win? Blackjack?” She bites into the greasy strip and moans. “Or... I didn’t sleep with that guy, did I?” 

“Erm,” you frown, thinking for a moment before you realise she must mean that Sam guy. “No...” 

You don’t explain. You don’t know how. Oh yeah, you were such a disaster that the owner noticed and didn’t kick us out. Actually, he let us stay in an overpriced suite because... you don’t know. 

“He must be loaded if he’s handing out hotel rooms,” she scoffs as she continues on in her assumption. You don’t correct her. It doesn’t matter. “Coffee,” she snaps her fingers as the grind quiets. 

You bring her the mug and she adds too many packets of sugar before she tastes it. You hide the paper in your cardigan pocket and search for your purse. You fish your watch out of it and put it around your wrist checking the time. 

“We should head out before nine,” you say. 

“Why?” She scoffs. “Ugh, what’s the bath like in this place? I could use a soak.” 

“Mom’s going to be worried.” 

“Nah, she knows I’ll get you back,” she waves you off and stands.  

She walks slowly, rubbing her temples as she sips from the cup, and examines the hotel room. She dips into the bathroom and the light flicks on. You hear her turning the faucet and shifting things around.  

You play with the zipper of your purse. You reach inside and pull out your phone. You get up to grab the key folder and enter the wifi code into your outdated model. It takes far too long to connect. You type into the search of your browser, ‘Bucky Barnes’. 

Almost at once, an image of the very man who carried Roxie into this room appears. It’s familiar. You tap it and it opens up a local news story. That makes sense. He’s younger, his hair is shorter. You remember when the casino changed hands and was renovated all those years ago. It was big news. 

Hm. Not just rich, famous, at least to a degree. It means he has a lot more going on than two disorderly girls at his casino. He’ll forget. You just hope you can too. 

Roxie comes back in a robe and put her mug on the table, “make me another. I’m gonna try those jets.” 

She spins away and you stare at her empty cup. How can she not care about anything? Does she not realise that she ruined the night? That she made a fool of both of you? No, she just sees shiny things and forgets all about her own behaviour. 

Well, you’re not like her. You don’t like being a burden or asking for things or living on someone else’s affection. You look down and feel along your pocket, the slip of paper firm through the fabric. You could clean a few hotel toilets for a buck. It’s not like you have much else going on. 

[imadhatt3r]

What if the next valentine's day skullector 2-pack will be Clawdeen and Toralei...

[lisenberry]

The sweat on your skin is better than regret on your heart

Part Four! Complete! (Part One, Two, Three)

Tattoo Artist!Price x F!Reader

E/MDNI/18+

(This one gets a picture because he's too cute when he's concentrating.)

AO3

The breath left your chest as he growled against your lips, spreading your mouth open and your legs apart in one quick, feral motion.  Leaving you no choice but to lean into him or risk pitching backward.  To take what he had to give or stumble off alone. 

He tasted sweet, like vanilla and cinnamon.  The tobacco smoke caught in his mustache smelled like burnt honey.  Alone, it’d be cloying, but combined with his skin and his tongue, it was intoxicating.  Soft lips and bristling beard, you felt surrounded, nearly claustrophobic with stimulation as you fought to keep him from overwhelming you completely. 

When he broke away to give you some relief, you would have protested if you could catch your breath.  Who needed air?  Not you.  Not if you could steal it from him instead.

“Let’s take a look at some possibilities, yeah?”  He lifted you up with one arm around your backside like you were a doll and reached up under your skirt to strip your panties off with the other.

It took you a minute to glean his meaning.  Oh, yes.  The tattoo.  The reason you were here.  Still playing the game, it seemed.

“Maybe here,” you replied, breathlessly, moving a hand between you and pointing to the skin just below your bikini line.  Your skirt was rucked up around your waist and smooth surface of the seat greeted your ass, warmed by your body heat. 

Another lift and a reposition and you were on your back with the seat raised to his level.  His hair tickled your stomach as he descended upon the spot you’d chosen with his mouth. 

You liked this game, you thought as he sucked and nipped at the sensitive skin, drawing it between his teeth just to the threshold of pain before lapping at it and starting again.  You squirmed and writhed against the hand that held you anchored by the hip. 

If he could bring his mouth lower, move his hands further between your legs, he’d find you wet and wanting.  It pulsed and wept, throbbed at the thought of being suckled and teased in the same way.

“Where else, hmm?” he grunted, a question you felt rather than heard, as it vibrated against your core.

You reached down to touch yourself, to show him exactly where you needed him, but he swatted your hand away before you even got close.

“Uh-ah—not yet,” he admonished.  “I’ll not be rushed.”  Instead of moving down where you wanted him, he roamed upwards, slipping your tits free from the straps of your sundress with ease.  “Fucking hell.  You’re just glorious, aren’t you?” 

The appreciation dripped from his voice like the slick that melted from your cunt as he dove between them, continuing his exploration across the peaks of your nipples and valleys along the undersides.  Marking you like a map, with your arms pinned helplessly to your sides and your legs spread wide enough to accept his hulking mass.

His hardened cock frustratingly out of reach and tucked on the other side of his pants.

Love bites deep enough to nearly break the skin to the sides of your breasts, down your stomach and between your thighs.  Only when he was finished, and you were hoarse from whimpering with arousal so strong you were sure you’d levitate to the ceiling if he wasn’t holding you down, did he finally slip a long, rough finger between your folds.

When the pad of his thumb grazed the swollen hub of your clit, it was like a lightening strike.  Crackling and arching currents of white heat, clouding your vision and emptying your mind.

“That’s what you’ve been whining for, is it?”  Roughly spoken, but he rewarded you all the same.  Fondling that sweet spot mercilessly as he grinned down at you, while all you could offer was a shaky nod in response.

“I bet he never fucked you like this, did he?  Brainless and blathering.  Too worked up to speak.”  He continued his interrogation as he wrung a blinding orgasm from your pussy and undid the buckle of his pants amidst your passionate cries and relieved tears.

Bucking and humming as the shocks coursed through you, he tested the gummy, quivering pliancy of your opening with his free hand, fisting his own leaking length with the other.

If you could put a thought together, you’d be pleased to see he wasn’t as unaffected as he let on.  He hid his restraint behind a well-trained mask.

“What’s his name again, love?”

“Who?” you stammered, as he sunk in deep, forcing the stretch and filling you beyond what you thought physically possible.

A triumphant smirk, of pure male satisfaction, lit up his face.  Sweat-soaked hair curled across his forehead, and a laugh huffed from his lips as he dipped down to adjust your hips. 

“Good girl.”

*****

It was already dark when he waited for you on the other side of the curtain.  He hadn’t even bothered fastening his pants.  The black leather belt hung open at his waist as he leaned over his desk, lost in concentration.

“I’d better get back.  We have dinner reservations for nine and I have to...freshen up.”  You touched a hand to your hair, knowing it was a mess. 

The walk back to the resort would be shakier than the one that led you here.  Instead of pretending you were sober, you’d have to move your legs as if you didn’t have a load of cum soaking your panties, and a body thoroughly ruined beyond recognition.

He straightened quickly, belt buckle jingling as he turned to you, and held out his business card in his hand.

“Come back anytime.”

Examining the card bearing his name and contact information, you turned it over to reveal a drawing on the back.  A graceful bird in flight, holding a rose in full bloom. 

“It’s perfect,” you answered, and the shy smile he gave in return told you he was hoping for your approval.  “I’ll let you know when I decide where to put it.”

He’d given you so many good ideas, you just needed to pick the right one.  And wait for the inky purple marks he left behind to fade. 

[nocturnalazura]

Bonnie to his Clyde

Dabi x FemReader

WC:1.2 k Warnings: Cursing, creampie. I think that's it.

Summary: Dabi took the fall for a crime you both commited, and you take every chance you can to come visit him. (And no this is not fully accurate to what a conjugal visit in a prison would be)

Shout out to @boosyboo9206 for being my forever beta reader and the reason my coma usage is correct.

Your foot taps anxiously as you listen to the corrections officer blather on about rules that you’ve heard a million times. You hated this. The cold walls, the half empty rooms, all of it. It’s your own fault you’re here. You fucked up the plan and he took the fall while you ran, and finally you’ll be able to set him free.

“Sign.” The officer grunts, holding a pen out.

Taking it, you sign just as told and step back. Handing the paper off, he stands and nods in the direction of the doors. Excitement bubbles within you as the bell sounds and the officer leads you through what can only be described as a small maze until you make it to the small trailer. He shoves open a door and nods for you to go in. Your face scrunches as you look around the little building. A knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts. A different guard from earlier pushes the door open and leads Dabi in. He takes a moment to undo the cuffs and takes a step back to study the two of you.

Dabi gives him a bored look. “You gonna leave or stick around and watch?” You hold in your snicker as the guard's face twists in minor disgust.

“Watch it, inmate.” He snarls before slamming the door closed as he leaves.

As the door closes, you happily launch yourself into Dabi who easily catches you. “I missed you.”

“Missed you, too, doll.” He leans down to kiss you deeply. His hands move along your lower back, pulling you tighter to his chest. “God, I really fucking missed you.”

He quickly lifts you and moves you two back towards the bed. Laying you down, he quickly settles himself over you. Bright blue eyes scan over the features of your face. His lust filled gaze has a softer hint to it as he leans down to kiss you again. You relish in the slight texture difference of his lips. The familiar slight smokey scent that follows him fills your senses and relaxes you.

Dabi’s hands make their way down your body, caressing your curves before they slip under your shirt to press against your soft skin. The warmth of his hands seeps into your skin turning you on faster than you’d like to admit. A breathy moan escapes you as he bites into your bottom lip.

“Dabi, please.” You manage to gasp out between kisses.

“Please what? Tell me what you want?”

“You, fuck, I want you.”

A shit eating grin creeps its way up his face as his eyes darken. “Yeah? You miss my cock, doll?”

“Yes, god, yes. Please, I’ve missed it so much.”

His grin shifts into something a little more pleased as he shifts up on his knees to pull his shirt off. Your eyes scan over his lithe figure, fingers reaching out to trace the outlines of his muscles as they move under scarred skin. Before you can move to appreciate the rest of him, Dabi makes quick work of pulling you up to work your shirt and bra off, tossing them off to the side somewhere. His tongue flicks across his bottom lip as he scoots back to rid you of your bottoms as well.

“Fuck, doll. Look so damn good.” He growls out while standing to rid himself of his own bottoms. Crawling back over you , he leans down to capture your lips in a deep kiss as a hand slips between your legs. A low groan passes his lips as he feels how ready you are for him. “Such a good girl. You’re already ready for me.”

“Been ready since before I got here.”

Dabi grins down at you again before kissing you deeply and lining himself up with your soaked folds. He nips at your bottom lip as pushes in. You moan into the kiss as the feeling of being stretched washes over you.

Your nails bite into his shoulders as you struggle to breathe. “Move. Please move, Dabi.” He lets out a ragged breath as he pulls his hips back and slams back into you.

You choke on a moan as all the air is punched from your lungs with one thrust. Your hands scramble to grip onto him again as his hips move at feverish pace. Pleasure floods your body as his cock rubs against your walls, hitting all the right places with every move he makes. The heat radiating off his body wraps around you, giving you the perfect feeling of home. Your head falls back with a moan, giving him the perfect chance to leave hot open mouthed kisses along your neck.

“Fucking amazing, doll. Missed having you wrapped around me.” He grunts into the soft skin of your neck.

“Missed having you in me.” You whisper breathlessly as you tighten around him.

Dabi moans as you tighten and quickly shoves a hand between the two of you to circle your clit quickly. “Cum for me.” He growls out before kissing you deeply to swallow your moans.

Your back bows, nails sinking deeply into his shoulder as every nerve in your body fires off at once as gush around his cock. His kiss does little to swallow the desperate moan that escapes you. His pace never falters as he works you through your high with rapid deep thrusts. His body feels overwhelmingly hot against you as he nears his own end. Finally, he breaks the kiss as his head moves to your shoulder, his teeth immediately sinking into your collar as he slams into you and floods you with hot ropes of cum.

His body slumps against you as he catches his breath. You loosen your grip on him and slowly rub his back. “You still with me?”

“Yeah, yeah just resting.” He mumbles against your neck. “Missed you.”

“You don’t have to miss me for much longer.” You whisper into his hair as you move your hands to take off the small stud earring you wore. You glance around the room and lift his head to speak quietly enough for only him to hear. “Take this. It’ll disable the quirk nullifiers and give you an opening. I’ll be waiting at the ridge after dark.” You turn his head and kiss him deeply.

“How’d you get this in?”

“Don’t ask questions. It was a lot of work but I managed. Think you can handle the rest?”

He grins widely at you. “Yeah, I’ve got it from here. I’ll see you tonight then.”

“Good.” You whisper before kissing him deeply again, trying your best to soak up every minute you can get with him in case anything goes wrong.

The hours slowly creep by after you leave the prison. Darkness takes over the sky as you park your car and settle in to wait for him. Your fingers tap against the steering wheel as you glance over at the dashboard clock, anxiety eating at you slowly. Finally, there's a tap on your window. Without thinking you throw your door open, tears of relief running down your face as you see him in the soft moonlight that peeks out through the clouds. You quickly throw yourself into him, arms wrapping around his neck tightly.

He catches you easily and holds you close. “Let’s get out of here, doll.” He whispers in your ear, a hint of smile in his voice.

[ebbywaffle]

man, screw you haters i love my boosic Clawdeen

one of the very few interesting purple dolls out there rn! to me!!!

ok ok yall ARE right about the vest (which i turned inside out lol) and glasses (i'm thinking about switching them with Clawdia's Lights Out ones)

my only prob with the overalls is that the inside is white so it's harder to do the suspenders down look and while polypropylene ain't the best doll hair it was fun to braid <3

[aeshiiteiru]

I’m so sorry if this make you uncomfortable or this is stupid😔 but i would like to request when s/o slaps tecchou, chuuya and Dazai’s ass

My Peach!

— s/o slaps their butt ft. O. Dazai, N. Chuuya, S. Tetchou

— Warnings & Notes

sfw? | Crack

|| It was quite fun to write! I didn’t feel uncomfortable with it at all! It was a very funny and interesting request so thank you! I hope you like it and sorry for the long wait. I didn’t know how to approach it at first because none of my previous ideas was good enough, but here we are! As you can see, with each character the story got longer lmao

|| Gn! Reader, Pre-established relationship in Dazais’ part, lots of mentions regarding their butts, Thicc Tetchou, Door flat Dazai, Nice average Chuuya!

m.list | writing rules

— Dazai

It wasn't often that the ADA office experienced a calm day. So it's understandable that you felt annoyed when your disruptive and bothersome coworker entered and started creating havoc in the workplace. As you turned to face Kunikida, you could already see the outraged-induced exceptionally visible vein on his forehead. Dazai started toward his workspace but stopped mid-step as he moved toward Kunikida. You were already annoyed when he bragged, "Kunikida-kun, you'll never believe what happened today! I nearly convinced that lovely, elegant waitress from the café below to commit double suicide with me! Can you believe it? It's the best day of my life!" He clapped, making you even angrier. Hearing these things repeatedly made you envious because you really liked him. Particularly given that he never paid attention to you or expressed the same level of interest in you as he did with all these other women, leaving you with the impression that you are either not his type or that you are too uninteresting for him. You and Kunikida both had to give up after listening to his blathering for another five minutes, so you got up and walked over to him. Simply following him while listening to him speak until he notices you. Kunikida, who was about to strike his annoying coworker, yelled, "Dazai, this is highly inappropriate; stop it right away!", but Dazai wasn’t having any of it, he only continued. “But how can I?! She is like an angel! Who knows, maybe I'll be able to have some fun before we pass away together! I mean, she has such a decent as-" Suddenly the room became quiet. There was only a loud slapping noise that rang in everyone's ears and caught everyone's attention. Dazai turned to face you in shock. With a hurt look on your face, you were clinging to your hand. Still unable to believe it actually happened, searching for clarification, he asked, "Did- did you just slap my ass?". "Uh, no doubt, and I unquestionably regret it; it's so flat I think I broke my hand, and with such a flat ass, I'm sure that waitress won't do anything with you.", you mumbled as you walked back to your desk.

Your words clearly gave him a little ego-bruise.

Everyone was laughing, and even Kunikida had a small grin on his face. Dazai unquestionably recognized you, even if you slightly damaged your hand in the process, Dazais' interest was piqued after the impromptu mission was completed.

— Chuuya

You were walking down a hallway inside the administrative building of the port mafia.' It was an ordinary day for everyone. No major obligations, no appointments, and surprisingly little communication from your significant other. The plan was for Chuuya to meet you in the hallway. He forgot his lunch and asked you to buy him something, and as the amazing partner you were, how could you possibly let him starve? So, with some goodies in one hand and your phone in the other, you roamed around, waiting for him to show up. Periodically, you checked your phone to see if he had texted you with an update on his location or expected arrival time. You soon noticed a very slight vibration in your hand. The onset of a massage. Chuuya.

—Come on, doll, I'm in my office. —

You smiled softly at the pet name, though you were a little irritated that he hadn't told you about it earlier. A few subordinates greeted you as you passed them on the way to his office out of respect as you moved forward. The closer you got to his office as you made your way down the hallway, the louder it grew. Chuuya regularly yelled insults at everything. Occasionally, you would want to clean his mouth with soap after he fell asleep. In any case, you quickly knocked on the wooden door while you waited for him to cool off and quietly say, "Come in."

You welcomed him as you opened the door with a tepid smile on your face. "I got you lunch, my love. You seem to be quite stressed, so I thought maybe we could eat together.", you noted as you walked inside, closing the door behind you. In order to meet you halfway, he only scoffed before rising from his chair. “My subordinates give me reports that sound like they're written by five-year-olds. Let's not even begin to dwell on the stress that goes with it.", he sighed, and all you did was smile softly and extend your arms to embrace him. With a warm embrace, he hugged you tightly and accepted the closure with clemency. He was completely exhausted."I swear, I'll blow up this place if another person comes here and sends back such a horrifying report.", he murmured into your shoulder before releasing your hold and turning to return to his desk. Your hand had already landed on his butt before you even considered it. You enthusiastically exclaimed, "I'm sure you'll be fine!". However, soon after, your boyfriend let out a yelp and turned to look at you with a bewildered expression, which made you realize something isn't right. Only after trying to make connections did you look down and notice that your hand was on his butt. You just smacked your boyfriend in the behind. You quickly retrieved your hand with a gasp, now looking back at him in shock. You tried to apologize and say, "I'm so sorry; I don't know why I did that!," but what was done was done. He feigned coughing as he attempted to gather himself and cover up the faint blush that had crept up his cheeks. “It’s…fine.” He replied, turning around so you wouldn't see how embarrassing it was for him, "Let's just act like this never happened, and don't you dare tell anyone about it!". He actually liked it. Even though he would never tell you, he enjoyed it.

— Tetchou

You were in the office with other hunting dogs. There was no need to leave, but there was a lot of paperwork on that day. Everything was going as usual, Teruko was annoying Tachihara, who was just trying to get his shit done, while Jouno was very close to throwing your boyfriend out the window for another stupid thing he said. Everything would’ve been fine, if not for the fact you couldn’t concentrate on work at all. It all started when you and your boyfriend Tetchou were at home getting ready for work. You really needed to grab something from the bathroom, but what you didn’t know was that your boyfriend was just finishing his shower. So, it was clear that once you entered the bathroom you were met with a little confused Tetchou who was drying his hair with a towel. Obviously, since he was using his towel to dry his hair, his whole body was exposed. That’s when you noticed how juicy and nice his butt was. Honestly, you felt quite jealous after seeing it. But that brings you to the present moment, sitting at your desk, shamelessly staring at your boyfriends' ass at work. It was very obvious, so Teruko and Tachihara very quickly noticed it and as the troublemakers they were, they shouted in Tetchous' direction, snitching on you. He only turned around, taking a look at you with confusion. “Y/n, why are you staring at my butt? Do I have something on there?”, he asked, taking a look at his own butt to answer his own question. You on the other hand got embarrassed after being called out like this. You sent a threatening stare in Teruko and Tachiharas' direction, but they didn’t even notice it, too busy laughing at this situation. Jouno was making gagging noises, showing pure disgust on his face at what he heard. “Keep that behind closed doors, pervert.”, he commented, making you even more embarrassed. Tetchou took a look at you again and made his way to your desk. You didn’t even have time to react before he stood next to you, leaning down to face you. “You’re all red, are you alright? Do you have a fever?”, he asked, seeming concerned. This only made you facepalm. How can someone be this oblivious to everything. “You know, I don’t mind you looking. I mean, you are my s/o, if you’re into that I’m fine with it.”, he tried to reassure you, but each word made it even worse. Everyone thought you were a pervert now. The worst thing was that you still couldn’t help yourself but take a peak at his butt when he turned around to look at Jouno who judged everyone severely. Before you could rethink it, you gave in to your desires and gave his butt a nice, hard slap. That shocked everyone, including you. Teruko and Tachihara immediately stopped laughing, looking at you in disbelief. Jouno was even more disgusted, if that was even possible. The slap was so powerful that he could hear it and connect the dots. Tetchou only turned around to look at your surprised expression, looking absolutely clueless. “…dear, did you just…spank me? What was the reason?”, he asked, awaiting your explanation. You just stared at him, it was as if time stopped, only the feeling of his soft, juicy ass lingering on your hand from the slap. You just wanted to squeeze his butt cheeks on the spot, but immediately rejected that idea. “It’s so nice, I couldn’t help myself. ”, you admitted, catching him off guard and making the troublemakers laugh at you harder than ever before. You knew that this event would be a lasting memory for you throughout your career, but you didn't care. You didn’t regret what you did and immediately planned doing it again once the two of you are in the comfort of your shared home.

Copyright © 2023 Aeshiiteiru.

[justagalwhowrites]

Some insight

Hi Besties!

I hope everyone is having a wonderful week and that life is treating you well! I'm going to stash the rest below the cut because it's just some of me kind of blathering about my life for a bit and how that might impact posting and I feel like it's just awkward and long and I don't want to make anyone feel like they need to read it? I dunno. I love you though!

Hi again! I wanted to let folks know that, because of some big changes in my work life, I might be posting less for a bit.

I'm trying to get my life into balance but it's hard. They've started a new cadence of in person work at my office and I have a long commute (which I didn't really factor in when I got this job 3+ years ago because they said we'd likely only ever be in one day a week at most in the future and now I need to be in the city an hour away at 8:30 a.m. three days a week.) I really should not complain, I know there are plenty of people who work harder jobs for less money that are always in person BUT it's already been a huge hit to my quality of life. Just trying to get through laundry this week is stressing me out. Normally, I do it in the middle of my work day because I can move the wash around between meetings and then put it all away at the end of the day or the next day during lunch. I've now been doing laundry since Monday. I hate it. I'm tired all the time, I'm emotionally exhausted because - while I am a corporate girlie - I work in comms and PR, so there's definitely a certain expectation for attitude and how I present myself. I get home from work and I'm just burnt out and I feel like I have no time. On top of that, I'm getting less quality time with my husband (we used to have lunch together most days during the week since he's fully remote) and my office is very "modern" AKA no privacy, so I don't really feel comfortable writing there, taking away the break time I used to use to put some words down.

I'm hoping that I'll find a groove (or another job that lets me be fully remote) sooner rather than later and I can settle into what life looks like for me now and I'll stop being so drained and just frustrated at the end of the day.

Ultimately, I'm HOPING I can find a posting schedule that works for my two ongoing fics where I publish a chapter of each every week and maybe a drabble or one shot here and there, too? But it may need to be only one chapter a week going up or who knows.

I'm not sure yet. I'm just tired. And I have to get up and do this again in the morning and I'm genuinely dreading it.

But I am working on a few things. I'm hoping I can get something up on Friday and something else this weekend.

I'm sorry for not being more consistent, especially lately but also just in general not keeping pace with where I was at like a year ago when I was writing Lavender and Beskar Doll. I appreciate you still being here.

Love you ❤️ very very much!