#growing on streets and style

[musicjegtanc]

[cheezduoz]

bunny children my beloveds <3

[marypsue]

Yes I am out of touch but yes I did just learn that (at least some) people are referring to the Eddie/Chrissy ship as ‘hellcheer’ and like, what. Are you kidding me. I have no particular feelings toward the characters or the ship, but that portmanteau is amazing. That sounds like the title of a Christopher Pike novel from 1989. I can picture it in that slasher-y typeface in hot pink foil lettering, splashed across a cover with a cutout window looking onto a painting of a lit-from-below creepily-smiling pretty blonde cheerleader. I can picture the inner cover when you open up the front cover with the cutout, the reveal that that cheerleader’s standing on a pyramid of dead bodies and holding up severed heads like pom-poms. You sign Tiffany’s yearbook in blood...

[patricoredimezzestate]

Don't grow up it's a trap

[serethereal]

simon cowell is soooo clever to make these boybands at 16-early twenties bc the second those boys hit mid-late twenties they start to look like just some guy

[rosykims]

i love being the retconning canon mutual its like godmode for my brain <3

[samantabrzozowska]

“Follow your dreams my little baby...”

~ Sam

[doomedpuppetyuri]

shaking milo by that fuckass tuft of fur on his head /silly

[elevationstyles]

I just want to say thank you to all you guys for the love and support that’s yous are showing to ElevationStyles. In my life I never thought I would be doing something I’m passionate about and grow as a person. On wards and upwards now let aim for 10,000 subscribers 👏👏🔥. Give away coming soon. #mensfashion #youtube #subscribe #giveaway

[ghelgheli]

In contrast with professional drag queens, who were only playing at being women onstage, [Esther] Newton learned that the very bottom of the gay social hierarchy was the province of street queens. In almost total contrast to professional queens, street queens were "the underclass of the gay world." Although they embraced effeminacy, too, they did so in the wrong place and for the wrong reason: in public and outside of professional work. As a result, Newton explained, the street queens "are never off stage. Their way of life is collective, illegal, and immediate." Because they didn't get paid to be feminine and were locked out of even the most menial of nightlife jobs, Newton observed that their lives were perceived to revolve around "confrontation, prostitution, and drug 'highs'." Even in a gay underworld where everyone was marked as deviant, it was the sincere street queens who tried to live as women who were punished most for what was celebrated-and paid-as an act onstage. When stage queens lost their jobs, they were often socially excluded like trans women. Newton explained that when she returned to Kansas City one night during her fieldwork, she learned that two poor queens she had met had recently lost their jobs as impersonators. Since then, they had become "indistinguishable from street fairies," growing out their hair long and wearing makeup in public-even "passing" as girls in certain situations," in addition to earning a reputation for taking pills. They were now treated harshly by everyone in the local scene. Most people wouldn't even speak to them in public. Professional drag queens who didn't live as women still had to avoid being seen as too "transy" in their style and demeanor. One professional queen that Newton interviewed explained why: it was dangerous to be transy because it reinforced the stigma of effeminacy without the safety of being onstage. "I think what you do in your bed is your business," he told Newton, echoing a middle-class understanding of gay privacy, "[but] what you do on the street is everybody's business."

The first street queen who appears in Mother Camp is named Lola, a young Black trans girl who is "becoming a woman,' as they say'." Newton met Lola at her dingy Kansas City apartment, where she lived with Tiger, a young gay man, and Godiva, a somewhat more respectable queen. What made Godiva more respectable than Lola wasn't just a lack of hormonal transition. It was that Godiva could work as a female impersonator because she wasn't trying to sincerely live as a woman. Lola, on the other hand, was permanently out of work because being Black and trans made her unhireable, including in female impersonation. When Newton entered their apartment, which had virtually no furniture, she found Lola lying on "a rumpled-up mattress on the floor" and entertaining three "very rough-looking young men." These kinds of apartments, wrote Newton, "are not 'homes.' They are places to come in off the street." The extremely poor trans women who lived as street queens, like Lola, "literally live outside the law," Newton explained. Violence and assault were their everyday experiences, drugs were omnipresent, and sex work was about the only work they could do. Even if they didn't have "homes," street queens "do live in the police system."

As a result of being policed and ostracized by their own gay peers, Newton felt that street queens were "dedicated to "staying out of it" as a way of life. "From their perspective, all of respectable society seems square, distant, and hypocritical. From their 'place' at the very bottom of the moral and status structure, they are in a strategic position to experience the numerous discrepancies between the ideals of American culture and the realities." Yet, however withdrawn or strung out they were perceived to be, the street queens were hardly afraid to act. On the contrary, they were regarded by many as the bravest and most combative in the gay world. In the summer of 1966, street queens in San Francisco fought back at Compton's Cafeteria, an all-night venue popular with sex workers and other poor gay people. After management had called the police on a table that was hanging out for hours ordering nothing but coffee, an officer grabbed the arm of one street queen. As the historian Susan Stryker recounts, that queen threw her coffee in the police officer's face, "and a melee erupted." As the queens led the patrons in throwing everything on their tables at the cops-who called for backup-a full-blown riot erupted onto the street. The queens beat the police with their purses "and kicked them with their high-heeled shoes." A similar incident was documented in 1959, when drag queens fought back against the police at Cooper's Donuts in Los Angeles by throwing donuts-and punches. How many more, unrecorded, times street queens fought back is anyone's guess. The most famous event came in 1969, when street queens led the Stonewall rebellion in New York City. Newton shares in Mother Camp that she wasn't surprised to learn it was the street queens who carried Stonewall. "Street fairies," she wrote, "have nothing to lose."

Jules Gill-Peterson, A Short History of Trans Misogyny

[hoshigray]

possessive tojikuna 😈🫦

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna + Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (m! receiving) - face-fucking- double penetration (2 dick kuna, lawl) - doggy style position - clitoral play (licking + pinching) - biting - unprotected sex - pet names (baby, good girl, little bird, princess, wife, woman) - slight degradation - highly possessive behavior - heavy depictions of a blowjob - mention of drool/spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

You knew something was up. You could tell from the sudden chill in the air as you strode back to the palace grounds and walked down the hall to your shared room at dusk.

The palace was shrouded in an eerie silence, the darkness broken only by the flickering light of the candles that guided your path. The servants, usually bustling with activity, now worked silently, their eyes averted. Even Uraume was unusually quiet as they led you to your room, where your husbands awaited you.

They dismiss themselves once you reach the door, leaving you alone in the hall before the shoji panel door. Breathing silently and slowly through your nostrils, a hesitant hand approaching the handle.

Only for the door to open independently and for you to be yanked by the wrist. You could not foretell what happened after this, yet now you know why the palace life had become unusually stifling.

“—Khhh, ahhhck..!! ‘Kunaa, f-for’ive m—Ahhh!”

“Silence, woman; don’t test me.”

You were stripped of your clothing, nude back to the soft futon, and your entire body dwarfed underneath the massive size of Sukuna. The cursed being has you under him as his lower left hand fingers your chasm, and the upper right arm chokes you by the throat. 

The restriction of your airways has you lightheaded, along with the motions of his thick fore and middle finger ravaging your vaginal texture. “Tahhh, ohGodsss…!”

“Hmph, what a whore,” he scoffs with a devilish grin, stuffing his fingers until the hilted knuckle. “So fucking tight on my fingers, you find enjoyment in being punished like this?”

“My King, please,” getting the words out is a battle. “I’m sho—Mmfff!…sho sorry—“

“Sorry for what?” The grip on your throat gets firmer, his thumb big enough to have your blood vessels pulsing for desperation. “For disobeying orders and leaving the fortress or having another man touch you?”

Ah, fuck! You knew this would bite you in the back once you stepped outside. Your husbands were busy with their daily tasks, leaving the fortress walls and instructing you to stay put where it’s safe. However, a specific craving has been growing these past few days, a craving that can only be found in the busy streets of the countryside down south. And since your spouses were out of reach for the day, and Uraume was tending the palace and its subjects as usual, you didn’t want to burden anyone with your selfishness. So, you snuck out at dawn and treaded to the civil human territory on your own.

“Unbelievable,” he curls his digits, which scrape your walls, and your strained cries are taken. “Who told you to leave where you were supposed to be?” His voice is ominous, even in a hushed tone, as he brings his face closer to you. “Who told you that you could let others touch you?” 

“Kunaaa, please, forg’ve me,” the nickname doesn’t lessen the hold on your windpipe. “I was…just getting fruits from the town…And then I’d return—“

“You disobey me for some fruits?” Crimson eyes glint darkly. “And then have that cretin hold your hands—hold what’s mine?”

The pound of your head worsens by the seconds, and the mouth of his stomach chews on the flesh of your tummy. God, this is too much…! “…I–I’m so sorry, my King…I didn’t m–mean to offend you, but my body is only—ghhh—for my hus–bands!”

“Today said otherwise—“

“It was not intentional!” I can’t…breathe…Your cunt tenses from a graze to your upper wall, your eyes watering. “Please, my love, there’s no one else my heart belongs to…I swear on my blood.” 

Finally, he releases your throat from his death grip, yet you’re not given time to gather much air as his hand comes to your cheeks to snatch. Panting heavily as your eyes stay on his, whimpering as he removes his digits from your aching slit. 

The giant huffs with a smirk at the sight of your tears. “Well, I’m not the only one you should swear to, wife.”

Of course, he isn’t; there’s another man in the room witness to your comeuppance. Once Sukuna withdraws himself from your proximity, your trembling figure moves off your back and crawls to the next person who stands on his knees. And you greet him with licks and kisses to his abs. “Toji…” your hands roam to his waist.

“Hey, baby,” emerald eyes observe you. “Got y’rself into trouble today. Didn’t think I wouldn’t see you outside after bein’ told not to?”

“I’m sorry—Mmmm…” you sense Sukuna’s hands keep your ass in place, and the lower other fingers your asshole. Your breath hikes at the contact of the tip of both his cocks, teasing your holes. Something slaps on your cheek, and Toji snickers.

“If y’re really sorry,” the dark-haired man pushes the cockhead to your lips. “Suck this dick like I like it.”

The simultaneous push of Sukuna’s cocks takes your breath, and your mouth is stuck on an indefinite ‘o’ shape. Toji takes advantage and shoves the tip into your mouth. Moans are mumbled, holes puckering to the slow push and pull of the colossus’ hips. After a few seconds, you begin to bob your head and suck.

“Hmmm, bad girl,” Toji grabs for the back of your head. “So busy with y’r lil’ outing that you didn’t notice me see you, walkin’ in the crowd and talkin’ with the townspeople,” he holds his breath from the sight of you lapping your tongue around the glans, precum oozing to your tastebuds. “And then be too friendly with those farmers, laughin’ and talkin’ too close to ‘em.”

You suck on his glans and with a hum. “Mmahh, I wasn’t planning on staying for too long,” you kiss and suck on the skin of the underside of his shaft until you meet his balls. Your tongue swirls on his testes, “I was just being polite—Ahhh!”

“Way too polite,” Sukuna smacks your butt, spawning a mouth to his palm to chew on the flesh to erupt a cry. Another bite comes from his lower right on your waist. “Might as well have asked them to come over.”

“Right…Hnngh!” Toji loves how you guzzle on his testicle. “Is that what ya want, princess? Have some strangers come here and see how much of a slut you are for our dicks, huh?” He yanks you by the chin, your expression already enhancing to a daze. “Wanna let ‘em have a go with you?”

It’s hard to answer as Sukuna ruts increase in pace, toes curling at the rub of your inner walls. “Ghhahh, n-no…! I don’t want anyone else to—shiiit—t-touch me like you do!” Sounds of skin slapping against each other from behind have you twitching even harder. Sukuna places his upper right arm to place on your shoulder to bite on your shoulder, while the lower left slither to your clit for the tongue of his palm to lap and tease. 

“Fuuuck, pussy so tight,” the behemoth sighs deeply. “Feel so good, shit isn’t meant for anyone outside this room.” His hips dial to a sporadic rhythm, shivers crawling up his spine as you scream all cutely from his movement. “All mine,” He bends to speak behind your nape. “All fucking mine.”

“Yesss, ahaaaa,” you howl out with your face smooshed to Toji’s pelvis, your hands stimulating his erection. “I only belong to you, my loves, only you…” you take in Toji’s tip once more, whimpering as his length busy your mouth inch by inch.

“Good girl, good girl,” Toji praises you from above, the hand on your head keeping you glued to him while the other husband has his way with you. Soon enough, both his strong palms come to your face, and he essentially fucks your face like a toy, your jaw loosening to make the process easier. 

Sukuna grabs for your arms and pulls you back but doesn’t stop Toji from fucking your face till the hilt meets your lips, and his balls knock your chin. You’re nerves are heightened, stimulated by the onslaught of pleasure on both ends. Your cunt and anus spasming around the limbs pushing to and fro, and your mouth mumbling on the dick, hitting the back of your throat.

And it doesn’t take long for your climax to steer you off, your frame trembling uncontrollably as you jerk and quaver under the bow of these men. Toji and Sukuna find it amusing, the hand on your clit pinching the bud.

“Hmph, cumming on my cocks like crazy.” The salmon-headed one playfully smacks your ass as your entrances flutter from the aftershocks. “Apology accepted, little bird; consider this a warning until the next time you transgress.”

Toji removes his cock from your mouth, strings of blended saliva and come leave the messy opening. “Now, ya know, princess. C’mon, lemme have my turn.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ☆ dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[fabled-fiction]

Hiiii!! Can I request a hobie brown x fem reader where the hobie swings by the readers room and just cuddles with her because he’s tired from patrol and the reader loves it because he only has a soft spot for her! And it’s just very fluffy!

Open Window (Hobie Brown x Reader)

Summary: Hobie didn't realize how strung out he was until a certain someone crosses his mind.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: MINOR SPIDERMAN ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS

A/N: I tried writing in a fem reader and then realized as I was writing I neglected that. I tried going back it but it felt forced, I hope this still suffices!

It felt like he never slept.

When could he afford too? It seemed like every step forward he took in taking down Osborn and his regime, they took three. Every running start he had they moved the finish line.

It was exhausting to be honest.

And now on top of his own problems on his earth, this stupid watch wouldn’t stop beeping with anomalies that needed taking down and tethering back to their Earths.

Hobie could feel the bags forming under his already painted ones.

His head had been reeling recently. Jumping back to his Earth after coming from the Spider Society was never easy no matter how much radioactivity was coursing through his hardened veins. He had a theory that despite having the wristband that helped him jump back and forth, he needed one for his head. The shift in perspective, and what could be perceived as art styles of the different Earths were making his vision hazy. 

Perching himself onto the top of a billboard, Hobie hit the side of his head with the edge of palm. Maybe if he hit his head hard enough or in the right spot he could knock the buzzing in his brain out long enough for him to make sense of where he was. 

On occasion it almost felt like he was back in that stupid spider tower, or another unfamiliar Earth.

Shaking his head, he took a glance about the neon lit streets of his Earth.

Wait, he recognized this street…no wait. No yea he recognized where this street lead to. 

Pulling the edge of his suit wristband back, he pulled up the time on his watch.

4:32:02am

Hobie knew exactly what he needed to rejuvenate, to put the rock back in his roll. 

Standing from his perch, he felt his bones begin to ache as they realized where they were about to be. Pulling his mask back over his head, he was about to flip when his watch started to buzz.

The holographic face of Gwen popped up.

“Hey! Hobie, Im glad I caught you. You got a seco-”

“Sorry Gwendy, can’t talk right now.”

“Wait! I n-”

He couldn't swing fast enough.

There was a warm purple light coming from your window, leaking through your curtains like a holy light.

He’d have to lecture you about leaving your window unlocked for anyone to crawl into later, it didn't matter that you were on the 14th story of your building. But as of right now, as he peeled your window open he saw it as a blessing as he tumbled head first into your room.

Hobie hadn’t realized how long it had been since he had seen you.His spider work had always been number one, taking down the rising regime of fascism in his city. Even the Spider society jobs have seen more of him than his own bed. It almost felt like he was more Spiderman than Hobie Brown, his heroism taking priority over everything else.

Well, almost everything else.

But now as he stumbled about, throwing his sneakers and guitar in the corner of your room the only thing on his mind was you. More specifically crawling into your bed that seemed to always be WAY more comfortable than his.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed you.

Hobie was so preoccupied with getting out of his Spidersuit that was growing increasingly more annoying by the second, he hadn’t even realized you were now leaning against your doorframe.

Sometimes you thought he played up these so called spider senses. There was no way he let you sneak up on him as many times as you have.

“Where..I know you ‘ave it somewhere in ‘ere.” He mumbled to himself, digging through your drawers with little regard to your neatly folded clothes there were already in there. 

Placing your cup of water on your nightstand, you perched on the edge of your bed and watched as your once clean-ish room transformed to match the thought process of the sleep deprived Spider in front of you.

You knew what he was looking for, Hobie had a tendency to leave shirts in your room whenever he stayed over. He said it was for convenience, it made it easier to switch from Spiderman to Hobie Brown. You couldn’t count the amount of times on your fingers when you had done laundry and realized nothing in the basket was yours. He almost had a full drawer in your dresser.

“Try the very bottom drawer.” You yawn, a few joints popping as you stretched out whatever you could stretch out.

Hobie turned his head to look at you for only a moment, and you hadnt even realized that he had discarded his mask somewhere into the clothed chaos that was hurricane Hobie.

Falling back onto your bed, you let out another big yawn as you made yourself situated. You could hear Hobie shuffling about your room, making himself more than at home as he slammed the window shut. A very loud click of your window lock followed by a thunk of a thwip made you chuckle.

“You seriously need to considah lockin’ your window. Could’a been an unsightly fella.” He muttered as he reached to fully close your curtains.

“Well I know who to call if I see one of these so called unsightly fellas.”

There was a grumble that came closer to your bed, and what you swore you was the gulping down of YOUR glass of water followed by the creak of your mattress.

It was like a second nature to the both of you even though you hadn’t physically seen eachother in what felt like months (in reality it was only a week but you too were too clingy to admit to each other it had felt longer). Molding into one another was easy for you too.

Hobie’s arm easily found its way over your waist, pulling you as close to him as he physically could. The minute he had his head resting on your chest he swore he could feel the color coming back to him. Feeling your hand run over his wicks, and eventually come to rest on the nape of his neck made him break into a hazy smile.

But then his stupid watch started buzzing. Didn’t he take it off?

He tried ignoring it for a moment, hoping whoever was calling him would get the message.

When you had started to pull away was when he had enough. 

Ripping the watch off his wrist, he threw it across the room and webbed it to a random wall. Before you could even protest that he had yet again left webbing that would take months to come off, he wrapped his arms around you and flipped around so that you were laying ontop of him. His arms basically locked around you, and solidified that you two would not be moving for the rest of the night.

He needed this, and he could tell based off the way that you melted into him that you needed this as well.

“Hobie shouldn’t you have answered that?”

He could deal with the consequences later, right now he was exactly where he needed to be.

“Nah.”

[jaythes1mp]

This is my first official post, and idk how to feel about it. So any and all comments & reblogs are really appreciated. If it’s bad please comment so I know I have to delete it🙏

Your secrets are ours, Kid

Yandere BatFam x Reader — CH1 -> CH2 -> CH3 -> CH4 -> CH5 -> CH6 -> CH7 -> CH8 -> CH9 -> CH10

Nightwing, who’s known for his impressive acrobatic skills and crime-fighting abilities, has become a prominent figure in the city of Blüdhaven. Renowned for his fearless approach to taking down criminals and has gained a notable reputation among the superhero community.

The guy's identity is a complete mystery, though. Nightwing works alone, leaving many of us to wonder who the man behind the mask really is. — Some say he has connections to Gotham City’s own famous vigilante, Batman.

When the young hero is seen in action, he can be often spotted leaping from rooftops and engaging in daring acts of superheroism, leaving criminals and citizens alike in awe of his skill and courage. Some question if he's a human or something more, while others simply look on in admiration. Despite the secrecy surrounding his identity, Nightwing's reputation seems to grow endlessly.

Then there’s Red Hood, the dark and brooding vigilante of Gotham City, a fearsome sight to behold. His red mask and signature pistols make him easily recognizable, and his actions leave criminals trembling in terror.

Some have speculated him being a former criminal reforming his ways while I believe that he too has ties to our one and only Batman. Despite his dark demeanor and ruthless tactics, it seems clear to me that there is a connection between the two. There has been a lot of evidence submitted for their collaboration, even if they choose to deny it publicly. Though, Batman, known for his strict code of ethics, would not typically associate himself with someone as morally ambiguous as Red Hood. But the circumstantial evidence is too compelling to ignore.

Regardless, Red Hood's impact on the criminal underworld is undeniable. He uses violence and intimidation to enforce his own brand of justice, which is rather admirable, yet causing many to question his brutal methods.

Next up is our one and only Batman himself, the dark knight of Gotham City. He’s a mystery in itself. His tall, imposing stature is enough to strike fear into the hearts of criminals, and his reputation as a master detective and fighter only enhances his mystique.

I have been trying to piece together the puzzle that is Batman's identity. Who is the man under the mask? What drives him to take on Gotham's criminals with such determination?

Though the billionaire Bruce Wayne has long been suspected as the man behind the mask, no concrete evidence has ever been presented. His true identity remains a puzzle, something that adds to his allure and intrigue. Every lead I follow seems to hit a dead end. The playboy is too obvious, too niche. What would motivate a Wayne, someone brought up into filthy wealth, who wastes his money on grand galas and prostitutes, into defending this city? The theory is too far reached.

Next are Red Robin and Robin. Batman’s sidekick-associates. Their partnership with Batman has been evident in their actions and fighting style. However, a rumour has been running around, theorising that the newer Robin was a young child when he had first joined Batman at his side.

Would our beloved hero really force a minor into sighting the dark dangerous streets of Gotham? Would he_

As you sat uncomfortably at the countertop of your kitchen, typing away on your laptop, you were suddenly interrupted by the unexpected sound of someone clearing their throat. You look up from the bright screen to see your roommate standing in the doorway, arms crossed. You raise an amused brow, a grin tugging at your lips at the sight of the other male in pyjamas rather than the usual broody black clothes and leather jacket. You click save and shut off the computer, turning fully to face him. “Yes, Jayson dear?”

Jason’s nose scrunches at the name, even as he stands in the doorway wearing nothing but a thin, well-worn shirt and pants. He looks like a child, which is somehow more than a little endearing. His eyes flickering up and down your frame as he appraises you. Despite the relaxed state his attire provides, his expression is as serious as ever. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of the worn flannel pants he’s sporting, but it does little to make him look anything other than intimidating.

He raises a brow, tilting his head as he looks at you, watching you save your work and then turn to face him. “Don’t ‘yes, Jayson dear’ me, smartass.”

You snort, moving off of the chair and stretching out, the cracks in your back loud enough for him to purse his lips at. “Well aren’t you sour this fine morning.”

Jason scoffs, narrowing his eyes. “It’s four am.” He mutters, crossing the kitchen to get to the coffee pot. He doesn’t really need the caffeine, but he likes the routine. He grabs a mug from one of the cabinets, filling it up with black coffee. He’d just snuck back in after his patrol, not expecting to see you up.

“And I’m not sour,” he says a bit petulantly, taking a sip of the coffee before setting it aside. “I’m concerned.”

Your brow raises higher, turning to the worn down clock practically glued to the wall from all the times you’ve both hit it to get the ticking sound to shut off. It’s a digital, why does it need to make such an annoying sound? “Huh. I guess it is.”

He rolls his eyes, not at all surprise that you would lose track of time so easily when you got lost in your writing. “Yeah, you do that sometimes,” he grumbles, taking another sip of coffee.

He looks you over, studying you intently as he crosses his arms. “How long have you been working?”

You hum, looking out the window into the polluted skies of Gotham. The sun had risen. “What answer will make you the least angry?”

“None of them,” Jason says, a scoff escaping his lips. His jaw twitches slightly as he watches you stare out the window, and he can’t help noticing how tired you look. He’s seen you like this before, pushing yourself to the brink just to finish a project, just to get everything perfect.

“How long?” he asks again, his voice a little softer this time.

“...” you sigh, looking away from the window to face him once more. “All night.” Before he can open his mouth to reprimand you, you cut in. “But! My project is due today. And Tim will decapitate me if I’m late on another assignment...” You rub the side of your face tiredly, displaying an uneven smile.

Jason’s annoyance melts away into concern as you speak. He can tell you’re exhausted, and the thought of you pushing yourself so hard for so long makes him want to wrap you up in a blanket and force you to take a nap.

But he can’t do that. Not when you’re an adult, not when you’re not actually his little sibling. Yet. He settles for crossing the kitchen and putting a hand on your shoulder. “You need to take care of yourself,” he says firmly. “You won’t be any good to your professor if you pass out from exhaustion.”

You grin softly and give a tired nod, fishing out your phone to check the university’s time table. “I only have to go in at nine forty.”

“And then you only have to endure a full day of classes,” Jason says dryly, narrowing his eyes. He gently takes your phone out of your hand and tucks it into his pocket. “No more work until then.”

Your eyes widen at the action, quickly scrambling to get the device back. “You– Jay!” You huff, leaning back against the hard counter. His gaze set sternly on you. You feel small under his gaze, as if he’s your father disappointed in you for stealing a tenner.

Jason crosses his arms once more, his eyes never leaving your face. Looking like the definition of a disapproving older brother. “No,” he says firmly, his voice stern. “You need to rest. I can’t have you passing out in the middle of class.”

He takes a step closer, looming over you as he stares you down. “You’re gonna take a nap, and then you’re gonna eat a proper breakfast. Got it?”

You can do nothing but glare. Cursing under your breath and walking past him. You’ll have to complain to Tim about this later.

He watches you stalk past him, a smirk on his face. He can practically hear you swearing at him in your head. He takes a moment to finish off his coffee before following you into the living room.

“What, no clever comeback? No witty remark?” he teases, leaning against the wall and watching you storm into the living room. “Are you actually listening to me for once?”

You make a show of laying down on his red beanbag, tugging the blanket off of the couch to drape over your form and throwing up the middle finger at him.

Jason can’t help but chuckle at your childish display. He moves towards you slowly, stopping when he’s close enough to look down at your face. He crouches down beside you, a smirk on his lips. He places your laptop on the table opposite you and your phone next to it.

“Real mature, kid.” He says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He ruffles your hair then stands, descending back into the kitchen. “I’ll wake you up an hour before you gotta leave, don’t worry.”

You sigh, mimicking him in an exaggeratedly high pitched voice. “I’ll wake you up an hour before you have to leave, mehmeheh.”

No use of y/n, currently gn leaning towards male.

Things to note: reader is unaware that the Batfamily members are related yet, age is young adult (19-20), everyone is aged up.

Any questions or feedback is appreciated.

[icypopz]

holding their hand ♡

↬ notes ; sakura haruka, suo hayato, togame jo, umemiya hajime x gn!reader

↬ from ice ; no one asked for this HAHAHA but i really wanted to write for my silly boys <3 they're literally so fun and cute, this is my first time writing for windbreaker though so i hope the characterisation is okay! a little short & it's drabble style but hope you enjoy :)

↬ warning(s) ; none

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

[ sakura haruka ! ]

with haruka, you're usually the one that has to initiate physical affection. he definitely wants to hold your hand, it's just that whenever you slip your palm into his and he feels how warm you are, his face turns so red he looks like one of the tomatoes umemiya's growing on the roof. at least that's what suo always loves to tease him and say, which only serves to make haruka threaten to beat him up in the middle of the street. but then he'll remember that you're beside him and he'll settle for giving suo the most intense death glare ever, only to give you a small smile as he turns to you and squeezes your hand ever so gently. haruka always treats you like you're a fragile flower, so he holds your hand with the utmost care and pride, because he's really proud to be able to call himself your boyfriend.

more content utc !

[ suo hayato ! ]

hayato thinks he's so cool. he's so suave, always slipping his fingers between yours when you're walking together until your hands are intertwined without you even realising it. and if you get embarrassed, he'll only smirk and tease you about how you look so cute when you're flustered. he's the type to confidently walk about town swinging your hand with his, telling everyone who asks that you're his partner. i feel like hayato would also wear matching rings with you, and whenever he caresses his ring before a fight it's like he can feel the sensation of your hand in his, and that reminds him that he can't injure his hands or he won't be able to hold you, so he's always extra careful ever since he started dating you.

[ togame jo ! ]

togame likes taking things slow instead of rushing through life, so whenever he holds your hand, you somehow end up feeling like a precious gem that he treasures with all his heart. that isn't actually too far from how he views you, because the way this man holds your hand is so incredibly gentle. even though his hands are rough and calloused, he'll slip his hand into yours and it feels like he's really savouring the moment, enjoying the way your hand fits in his like two puzzle pieces slotting together perfectly. he's sometimes worried that you won't want to hold his hand when his knuckles are bloodied or scraped from fights, but just a press a kiss to his battered knuckles and togame will be putty in your hands.

[ umemiya hajime ! ]

umemiya adores you. it's evident to everyone, from the students at bofurin to the townsfolk, and it's especially obvious in the way that he looks at you. when you hold his hand, his eyes light up like a million stars, and he narrowly refrains from actually jumping up and down like a little kid (hiragi convinces him that's a little too undignified for bofurin's leader). he always ends up unconsciously squeezing your hand when he's excited, or when he's deep in thought, or anytime, really. he just needs that reminder of your presence and it feels like he'll be able to solve any problem that comes his way. whenever he walks you home, umemiya will also always kiss the back of your hand like he's a prince courting a suitor and give you a dramatic goodbye, it's just one of the things you love about him too.

✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠

© icypopz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way.

[auckie]

Remembering dream I had where I met two trans guy artists living in a cool city and they invited me over for like a month, and they were very like established and had my dream jobs (one was a mechanic the other was a park ranger working at a center for like environmental shit so they could advanced in their career beyond just patrolling a park like two hours outside the city). they invited me into their polycule and I was really hesitant bc I’ve never really wanted to be poly but I was so enamored by the opportunities that I accepted without much hesitation despite not knowing them like, at all. And both were workaholics so I never saw them and just lived at their apartment and for while it was great bc I could focus on writing and had a part time job at a diner, but then they kept bringing home the most random fucking people to join the polycule. Like a 69 year old, very beautiful but jaded opera singer, a disgraced CFO for an Enron like company, some beatnik wannabe who worked at a gas station, a mother of three who clearly had no interest in any of us, literally like just people on the street, and every time they did a new room generated within the ever growing apartment that was themed around that person. So some of them were really cool and beautiful like Memphis 80s minimalist styled, some were straight out of an arts and crafts Californian home, there were some that were kinda gross and packed with shit and smelled weird, and I kept exploring all of them getting progressively more and more lost and panicking bc I was gonna be late for work, until I finally found what I instinctively knew was called ‘the pound room’ where they kept an incomprehensible amount of Oscar Meyer baloney packages and like PAGES upon pages of the exact same two ocs in *barely* different positions, going at it like animals, almost as if each drawing were meant to be a painstakingly hand drawn frame of an animation. And when I found this room and was going through the drawings, the dream suddenly felt like that scene where Wendy finds Jack’s ‘all work and no play’ pages on the typewriter. And I got goosebumps and suddenly smelled all the baloney, bc it wasn’t refrigerated, and turned around to see that someone was in the doorway. It was the two original trans dudes who had fused into one larger trans guy who looked like a combo of both of them, and the second I recognized that he slammed the door shut and locked it, and I knew I was trapped and gonna die there.

[lyrefromthesea]

HEYYY IIDK IFHOU TAKE REQUEST BUTTTT HOW WOULD THE HASHIRA REACT TO A HYPER ENERGETIC READER WHO IS ONE SECOND DOING 1 THINK THEN THE NEXT A NEW THING LIKE THEY COULD BE PAINTING AND THE NEXT SKY DIVING

I love your writing style hehe

Male pillars x Reader - the art of being too energetic

author's note: i hope this request is to your liking. truthfully, i had trouble writing it at some points.

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: none

Tengen:

where were you now? he swore you had been standing next to him a few moments ago. he looked around the streets, trying to spot you.

did you see a demon and moved forward without him? no, he would've heard it. he looked around the dark streets, not taking long to figure out where you went.

his feet dragged him towards the festival down the street. the area was filled with lamps and people wearing the prettiest kimonos or yukatas.

yet none of them stole his attention away from what mattered. you. you were in the middle of the crowd of dancing people. you spun around in fluid motions, a smile plastered on your face.

if it hadn't been for your uniform, you would've fitted right in. he moved forward without thinking, his hand soon grasping yours.

"now what were you thinking? we've been walking through the empty streets just a few seconds ago!" he said, his lips tugging up into a smile.

"couldn't resist, the music drew me in!" you laughed, twirling around him. he followed, both of you now dancing in sync. you didn't care for the eyes staring at the two of you. "are you mad?"

"you're too flamboyant to be mad at."

Obanai:

Obanai had been sitting on a tree, lazily watching you train. he didn't have anything better to do and you enjoyed his presence. however, when he looked down, you weren't training next to his tree anymore.

he looked to the side, flinching when you sat right next to him. "[name]!" he called out, looking at you surpised. he gave you a questioning look, waiting for your explanation.

"i found this." you answered, showing him a small acorn - or rather the rest of it. he looked at the cupule, you held it up by it's stem.

"and..?" he asked, still confused. it wasn't surprising to see you change your mood so quickly, but he found himself confused every time. especially now when you looked at Kaburamaru.

"and this!" you said, offering the snake to slither onto your arm. Kaburamu listened and Obanai watched in anticipation. the snake trusted you, just like Obanai did.

the cupule you held in hand was carefully placed on Kaburamaru's head, slowly pulling away to not knock it down. you blinked a few times and then looked at Obanai.

"it's a little hat! what do ya think?" you asked enthusiastically.

Obanai's eyes wandered between you and Kaburamaru, then back at you. "it's great. you should find him a scarf too."

"you're right!"

Rengoku:

"little flame? darling?!" he called out your name, desperately trying to find you. he had been sitting in the living room when he noticed the odd smell of smoke.

he had been worried sick, trying to find the source. his eyes widened upon seeing the clouds of smoke leaving your shared kitchen. however, when he ran inside, he was even more confused.

"darling..?" he asked, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at you. he could barely see it through all the fug, but he figured you were standing next to the stove.

when he came closer, he saw you more clearly - you were holding a bucket in your hand. his eyes fixed on the stove, hearing it sizzle quietly. it was wet and still slightly hot. he couldn't make out what had been in the pan, but it was burnt now.

"oh, Kyojuro!" you gasped, looking at the man. you hadn't heard him before. your eyes followed his gaze, your face growing red when you looked at the stove.

"i wanted to cook something, but then i remembered this book from a few years ago. i'm sure i had it somewhere around-" you babbled, stopping when you looked at him again.

you had expected him to be mad for nearly burning the whole house down, but he didn't look angry in the slightest. he took the bucket out of your hands instead, placing it to the side.

"let's clean this up first, we can search for the book later." he simply said, his motivated stance not leaving. you agreed, cleaning the kitchen together.

you only stopped when he suddenly spoke again, leaving you baffled.

"you know, i once burned my family's house down when i was smaller."

Sanemi:

Sanemi looked at you, your eyes staring back into his. his gaze hardened, daring you to move further.

"don't do it." he grumbled, his hands ready to grab you in an instant. if someone would've walked into the room, they would've surely questioned your sanity.

"i'm going to do it." you answered, giving him a mischevious smirk. his eyes narrowed, his body tensing up.

you had found a new hobby a few days ago, which happened to involve him. now he gave you his undivided attention when you were acting strange or gave him a knowing look.

in the blink of an eye you turned around and jumped backwards, Sanemi reacting immediately. he made sure to catch you in his arms, stopping you from falling and hitting the ground.

he let out an annoyed sigh, having caught you. again. he didn't even remember how many times it had been this week. "stop doing that!"

"you know you love it" you chirped, giving him a triumphing smile. he rolled his eyes, letting go of you.

but you were right, he did love it.

Giyuu:

"i want wagashi." you said, tugging at Giyuu's sleeve. normally, your request would've been completely fine, but now he was looking at you in disbelief.

"what?" he asked, stopping in his tracks. you came to a halt next to him, repeating what you've just said. "i want to eat wagashi."

he was at a loss of words. you had asked for daifuku nearly ten minutes ago. he had been walking to your favourite shop with you since then, knowing it would make you the happiest.

"we would have to walk in the opposite direction." he remarked, giving you a questioning stare. you blinked at him a few times, as if you were waiting for his answer.

he would've said no to anyone else, but he was used to your impulsive behavior. he couldn't explain why you made decision the way you did, but he thought of it as refreshing. he sighed, turning around on his feet.

"let's buy you some wagashi."

Gyomei:

"can i move now?" he asked. he had been sitting under the waterfall for about thirty minutes now. you had asked him to paint a picture of the moment, which he found himself agreeing to.

however, he hadn't heard anything from you since over fifteen minutes, making him question what was going on. the cold water of the waterfall hitting his back overshadowed most of the other sounds around him, but he managed to hear you stand up.

"Gyomei, i'm so sorry!" you apologized profusely, running towards the waterfall. he heard the splashs over your body pushing the water around you away, eventually feeling your hand pull on his.

"i completely forget about the painting. there was a cat and-" you stopped when you felt his head turn towards yours. you looked at him, wondering what could've made him forget about your mistake.

"a cat?" he asked, feeling you change the direction you were pulling him. it wasn't your strength to keep attention on one thing, but he couldn't care less.

besides, he shared your fascination over cats.