#i know this is more a big deal because it usually just means package will arrive next day

[battywitch]

If I became ruler of the universe, the first unimportant thing I'd do is eliminate surepost. Or at least make it so things aren't marked as delivered but get a new designation. One that's actually true. Like "package turned over to usps for final delivery." Because that's what happens.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt: Dead on main. No trick only treat.

~~Сhildhood friends and deals~~

The Justice League has to summon a ghost from another dimension to address the threat. They don’t know what price the Ghost King will take but there’s little time to bargain. Another spirit threatening them has already seized all the computers on their base. John doesn’t know what else to offer. A summoned ghost starts to look bored. Gold, jewelry? A favor from a member of the League? Like the Ruler of All Dead needs it. No one dares to make another offer, and the King is in no hurry to set out his demands. Maybe try to pull off a soul sale scam?

Suddenly, Red Hood breaks into the hall, walks up to Phantom and shakes his shoulder vigorously. Red Hood: You, get Technus out of here right now. I need access to the files and fast. Phantom: That’s rude, dude. Where did you grow up? in the cave? No "hello, no how are you, Danny", really? Red Hood: I’ll pay the usual price. Phantom: Deal.

What is the price? John sees Batman and gets in his way. The usual price, his guy said. Means Jay was already out of the deal alive and well. This hyperprotective bat would only piss off the ruler if he interfered.

The King quickly deals with his subordinate using a thermos and remains to watch working Hood. Red Hood: What do you want? I’m busy. Danny: You and I have a contract~ Red Hood: All right, all right. Jay throws M&Ms right in the face of the ghost. But king doesn’t look angry. He opens the package and starts sorting the candies by color. Phantom quickly eats up all the green ones and passes the red ones to Hood. Jason takes them without any questions.

Strange. John has never seen a summoned creature share its reward with a human. And the son of a bat looks too comfortable with it. Wait, since when do super-powered beings think that candy is a decent wage?John makes one of the most likely deductions using his experience. Constantine: Batsy, how long has your son been sleeping with the King of Ghosts? Batman: He…what?!

~~~~~~~

Dick *knocking at the door*: Little Wing, you hate ectoplasm and everything what is neon green, so why? He’s dangerous! Jason who turned on the music to not listen to his crazy family: ~He’s poison but tasty~

Dick: NoOOoo

~~~~~~

Jason: And now everyone thinks that I sold my virginity to you for a bargain or something, because interdimensional creatures like you aren’t supposed to help for nothing. Like you’re playing favorites. I’m gonna fucking kill John. Danny: Well, I wouldn’t say no to that. Jason: What? Danny: I mean, to k-kill John, yeah. How dare he.. Jason: Omg, you’re still so terrible liar, Fenton.

Danny: Sorry :(

Jason: No. Say it again.

~~~~Twelve years ago~~~~ Maddie wasn’t thrilled to learn that Danny was trying to make friends with Todd’s son. Their neighbor was terrible. And his son was definitely a street rat and probably a juvenile delinquent. Maddie: Danny, honey, there’s got to be a reason this boy is talking to you. Even kids from the crime alley are always looking for a bargain they can make or a fool they can fool. Danny: But Jason is so cool! He knows so much about books and alleys and.. Maddie: But you don’t want to be a fool, do you? Danny: Okay, Mom, I get it.

So, if Danny wants a cool friend, he’s got to offer a bargain.

He didn’t have a lot of pocket money for every month but Jason needed it more anyway. And his lunch that Jack was picking for him was big enough for two and only bitten on Tuesdays. Nice. Jason: Do I understand correctly? You will pay me and give me food, and I, what? Protect you from bullies? Danny: No! I’m not weak, I don’t need to be protected. Just..maybe we could sit together at lunch and walk each other home sometimes? Jason: Nay Danny: But why? You want something else? Jason: Money’s fine but your homemade food is…strange. Danny: I can bring sweets if you want. Jason: Deal. 3 pop tarts for a joint lunch, a party size bag of M&Ms if you waste my time out of school.

~~~~

Sometimes they share sweets when they hang out but more often Jayson takes them home to save in case his parents have money problems. Sweets have a long shelf life stored and he may not be afraid to poison himself. Over time, candy becomes their currency and a secret language for all occasions. Need help without unnecessary questions? M&Ms. Problems with learning? Skittles. The question is about family? Snickers. There will be a serious conversation? Pop Tarts.

Jason: One snickers and a pack of gum. Danny: Yeah, Jason? What do you want? Jason: My mom wants to meet my friend. Come to lunch on Sunday. Danny: Okay, you managed to pay for my expensive services. Jason:…and you just lost the gum from the deal.

~~~~~~

Jason threw a package at Danny: Three pop tarts. We need to talk. Danny: All right? Jason: Why are you avoiding me all week?! Danny: Well, it’s just..you’re Wayne now. Jason. Still Todd. And what about that? Danny: You can hang out with the cooler guys now, I didn’t want to embarrass you. Jason: Bullshit! I’m still the street rat, and you’re trying to avoid our contract. me. And I don’t even need money from you anymore. What the hell? I thought you are my friend. Danny: And I am!

~~~~~~

Robin: What’s a schoolboy doing in an alley at night? Danny: Um, I…nothing? Don’t tell my parents, Mr. Robin sir. Robin: It will cost you so many Chunky Bars, you have no idea. Danny:...Jason? Jason: N-no. Danny: Damn yes. What are you doing in green shorts on the street at night?! Jason: Cosplay. Danny: Oh yeah? Then I’m just your hallucination. Don’t hesitate to ghost me. I’m going home, Disgrace In Pixie Boots, bye. Jason: fu%&c$#u

[ayaboba]

rise and shine

summary: what do they do when you refuse to wake up.

chars: alhaitham, cyno, tighnari, xiao, wanderer, kazuha, zhongli, albedo, ayato, kaeya, diluc, kaveh, heizou, itto, childe.

warnings: sfw, reader is called ‘sleeping beauty’ once, not proofread.

yanks the covers off you - alhaitham, cyno, tighnari, xiao, wanderer

let’s you off the hook a few times, giving you a generous amount of time to get up and get ready, but when they see you‘re still very much fast asleep after a good forty minutes, it seems the only way to wake you up is to resort to more.. straightforward methods.

for example, pulling the covers off you with a supposedly good-natured ‘rise and shine, sleeping beauty.’

—

‘please..just five more minutes…’

‘i’ve given you five more minutes eight times.’

‘so?’

‘i’ve made/got your favourite breakfast.’

how could you resist that?

i mean you could, but they’d probably drag you off the bed then

tries to woo you out - kazuha, zhongli, albedo

you don’t miss several indiscreet promises and the more-than-usual showers of affection offered by them. their method is be as gentle with you until you break. how sneaky.

don’t underestimate their patience, they’ll be kneeling on your bedside for however long. it. takes. oh, the sun’s setting? it’s almost as beautiful as you. it’s a full moon tonight? it probably looks better outside, don’t you think?

you’ll have to eventually fall into their little scheme, though.

—

‘i heard that there’s a new cafe opening today.’

‘really!?’

‘yeah, but it’s just too bad they don’t do deliveries.’

lifts and carries you bridal style - ayato, kaeya, diluc,

maybe because they know arguing won’t be enough against your stubborn head, they do something completely impulsive and unexpected. such lifting you up and carrying you bridal style.

a big, big tease about the whole ideal. will never live it down. probably turns into a regular morning greeting. if they wake up first, just expect to be somehow launched into their arms.

—

‘good morning to you, too’

‘do you think my legs don’t work?’

‘what legs? you seem prrreeettyy short to me.’

that earned them a slap.

goes back to sleep with you - kaveh, heizou, itto, childe

they love their sleep. and sleeping with you? that’s like a whole luxurious package deal. sure, they have some urgent matters to deal with, the akademiya, the tenryou commission, beetle fighting, fatui meetings…yeah, but really, is it as important as a good night’s rest? no, of course not. you know what they say, a good night’s rest means a promised good day ahead. (they made half of that up). in all honesty, you’re the one who ends up having to wake them up.

—

‘we should get out of bed, it’s nearly 11.’

‘but i’m so sleepy. i’m so tired. you need to be nicer to your poor lover.’

‘this is why i said you need to go to bed earlier.’

‘no, just ten more minutes, i promise.’

[illusivelle]

chicken scratch

pairing: carmen 'carmy' berzatto x reader rating: t (for now) length: 1,028 words content: mild cursing summary: you've never met your neighbour, but you've received plenty of their mail and now, a large package. of all the stories you made up in your head about who this 'carmen berzatto' could be, the real thing might just be your new favourite. a/n: brain rot means a middle of the night word dump. will likely be the first of many little stories about your next door neighbour, carmen, because that dynamic lives in my mind rent free. fluff for now, but we all know what that means (it means it'll definitely become nsfw later, sooner probably). read part two link to ao3 here!

The first letter was a mistake, the second one was a coincidence. The third one was not a big deal and the fourth was only a little more than a nuisance. But when a much larger package thudded against your front door at the ass crack of dawn, the recipient clearly written across the top of the cardboard box as your neighbour… well, that was just flat out annoying at this point. You hadn't even known deliveries made their rounds so early in the day and as big as the box was, when you lifted it to carry next door, it weighed lighter than a feather.

The pile of letters that accidentally found their way to your apartment were usually slipped through the small mailbox of your neighbour's, sometimes under the door. You'd thought about dropping the package and simply going about your day, but curiosity got the better of you as your knuckles rapped against the door and waited instead.

What could a Carmen Berzatto have possibly required to be delivered at this time?

In the time you've lived in the building, there'd been very few run-ins with other tenants. Not that you'd ever complain, perfectly content with your own company. You made friends with one elderly lady who always offered you some of her freshly baked bread, and in return you picked her up flowers and some extra produce on your farmer's market runs. The landlord wasn't your friend, but he wasn't your enemy either, and somehow you'd convinced him to let you paint your bathroom your favourite colour with little to no resistance. But your next door neighbour remained a mystery, one you've conjured up about a dozen different backstories and personalities for.

Carmen Berzatto, notorious criminal, hiding out in a tiny Chicago apartment. Carmen Berzatto, hundred-year-old vampire, who might either burn in the sun or look like they'd walked through a glitter bomb. Carmen Berzatto, part time Chicagoan, who actually doesn't live here anymore and maybe there's a squatter inside instead. Carmen Berzatto, the tax evader, because why else would they have so much goddamn mail being sent to them?

You'd been lost in the web of made-up histories for your neighbour when the door swung open to reveal said neighbour, and it slowly dawned on you that there wasn't a single story where you imagined Carmen Berzatto to look like that.

Piercing, wide blue eyes and a head of shaggy brown tufts that made you want to tangle your fingers through them, especially that small curl dangling just above his forehead.

"Hi." His greeting was laced with mild confusion that seemed immediately alleviated when his attention dropped to the box in your hands. "Oh."

"Hi," you blurted out, lifting the package, "got another one for you."

"I—I'm sorry about— about, uh, about all of that. It won't happen again."

"Won't it?" You were mostly teasing now. Although you were jolted awake by the sound of it thrashing against your door, and although you were rather peeved about getting up before you wanted to, you couldn't find it in yourself to be irritated anymore.

Carmen reached out to take the box from you, giving it a small shake with what you thought was a ghost of a smile before he set it down to the side somewhere you couldn't see. "It won't. I'm sorry." The flirt of his tongue along his lips brought your gaze toward it before you met his eyes again.

Those stunning icy blues.

"It's okay, nothing to be sorry for."

"I must've really fucked up on the— the uh, apartment number."

"What?"

"The apartment number."

"Yeah," you looked at him a bit dumbfounded, gaze darting to the door where the number and letter were, "what about it?"

"I—"

"You don't know your apartment number?"

"My writing's shit."

Both of you seemed to blink in unison, another lick of Carmen's lips which you mirrored before a stupid smile curled your lips. "Oh."

"Not a good excuse, I know." He nodded, jaw working as he turned his head to the metal on the door, a short and deep chuckle sounding from him. "Again, I—"

"Not sorry," you shook your head, "just chicken scratch."

For a moment, Carmen stared at you, and if it wasn't bad enough to have those too-blue eyes simply looking at you, to find them nearly boring holes as they danced between your eyes and across your face made you want to evaporate. Made you wish the ground would open up and swallow you hole. Made you want to drown in the depths of the ocean blues that were his irises.

"Just chicken scratch," he murmured after a beat of silence and what was once a ghost of a smile was definitely something now, the corner of his mouth lifting enough to wrinkle the corner of his eye. Enough to show you the dimple in his cheek. "Thanks for— for bringing the package."

"Yeah." And the smile unfurling on your lips was nothing short of genuine. "You're welcome, Carmen."

"Just, uh, just Carm is good. Carmy."

"Okay."

Another beat passed where you thought you might have been rendered frozen by one of your favourite shades of blue, glued to the floor through hypnosis, until a sound down the hall caught your ear and you nodded at Carmen. Turning on your heel, you took the first step back to your apartment, then another, and another.

And it wasn't until you had your hand stretched out to grab for your doorknob when you heard his voice echo from where you'd came. "See you around?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

The moment hung in the air on a thin thread, the both of you sharing furtive and hidden smiles before his door closed and yours opened.

Carmen Berzatto, not a notorious criminal (to your knowledge) or a hundred-year-old vampire (yet). Nor was he a part-time Chicagoan (not with that accent) or a tax evader (maybe). None of the ideas you had floating in your mind about your neighbour even came close to the real thing.

Carmen Berzatto, curly-haired blue-eyed boy-next-door with chicken scratch for writing and a fleeting dimple you wanted to see again.

[amuromi]

★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 11.0k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! actor!au, unprotected sex, pet names (baby), oral (f!receiving), ooc Toji (no, really!!)

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ This is very self-indulgent because I was once again infected with brain worms because of this post.

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

Toji is a typecast kind of actor. He started out as just a guy they call in when they need some muscle. He’s got the training for all sorts of things. Martial arts, swordplay. If a background character needs to look believably menacing, he’s the one to get on contract. And over time his bit parts as henchman number three and thug with one line slowly evolved into something more involved, because there is no denying that Toji has a face for film. Eyes that come with a vulpine sharpness, like he knows something you don’t, and a scar at the corner of his mouth that’s as marketable as any beauty mark. Really, he looks mean, but that’s exactly what a villain is supposed to look like. He’s all harsh angles that any photographer would kill to work with. So he slowly builds up a filmography from the most insignificant masked goon to a formidable kingpin, front and center. Goes from an uncredited extra to damn near top billing as a main antagonist and that’s just fine with him when the bigger roles come with a paycheck to match. It’s not anything new for him. Toji spent his whole life fighting and training. How else could he make all those stunts look so easy? It’s only right that he makes a career out of all those grueling days of harsh conditioning. And it sweetens the deal when he finally finds his girl. 

Every villain needs arm candy. It’s a constant revolving door of pretty faces standing next to him whenever the director yells “action!” So many that they begin to blend together in his mind and he spends interviews bullshitting his way through any thoughts regarding his female co-stars. “She was fine, I guess.” And of course, he thinks she did a great job in that movie he’s never seen. Empty platitudes to satisfy the interviewer and keep his manager happy that he’s playing nice about the tedious media circuit. Usually his roles don’t require that much attention to detail. He’s coasted this far on his graveled voice and dour expressions, so he never bothers to pay more than the bare minimum of attention. He learns his line and character names. He knows who the blonde character named Amy is but without the blindingly bright platinum hair he couldn’t pick the actress that played her out of a lineup. So it makes his life a lot easier when they find him a girl that works. 

Something about charisma and chemistry. All the buzzwords he’s fed over conference calls boil down to you being his girl. The perfect match for his onscreen persona. Real pretty with just enough training that you can fill in on most of your own stunts. So it makes sense when the two of you start cropping up as a package deal. If there’s an action movie in need of a big bad, Toji’s name is put forward, and if he needs a girl–and, sometimes, even when he doesn’t–his people are quick to toss your name into the ring. He’s not sure on the details, if your agents have worked out some kind of joint agreement or if it’s just coincidence that all the casting directors settle on you as his opposite but he’s not complaining. 

You’re real easy on the eyes in a way that goes beyond basic celebrity standards. You don’t look standard. The other girls he’s worked with were standardized. All coming in the same kind of package, but with you he can pick out true individual features. He can tell when the makeup artists fuck around with your eyebrows and overdoes your lipstick. Maybe it’s ’cause he’s always looking at you nowadays, but it might also just be how gorgeous you are. Of course he wants to know what such a pretty girl looks like. It’s one of the perks of the profession and Toji is nothing if not selfish about almost everything. He’s not acting for the art, it just gives him the biggest payout at the end of the day. He likes his bank account with a ridiculous amount of zeros and it just so happens that you come along with that. 

He can’t see why his manager is suddenly complaining when your names start getting tossed around in tandem more often than not. Why shouldn’t Toji date you if he wants to? And he wants to. But apparently he’s supposed to maintain a certain aura in the media. Mean and unapproachable. Which he is. There’s plenty of videos of him manhandling the paparazzi to attest to that. But that means he’s gotta be something unobtainable, and making heart eyes–he’s definitely not doing anything like that–at his favorite little co-star is certainly the opposite of unobtainable. 

He tries to be pragmatic about it, saying he’s just keeping in character. Mean to everyone but his girl. But his manager isn’t going for that. Something about your people using him for clout since he’s got a few years of experience on you as the new kid on the block. Still Toji can’t see the problem. This whole damn industry is built on connections and favoritism so why can’t he help you a little if he wants to. The mere mention of his lack of concern has Shiu groaning, the sound chopped up and drawn out by a poor connection. 

“You’re my most difficult client, do you know that?” The man sighs like he’s trying to wrangle a toddler into behaving. 

“I’m your only client.” Toji reminds him, earning a scowl through the laptop screen. 

“And whose fault is that?” Shiu sounds so put out that Toji doesn’t bother entertaining the idea that it’s anything other than his fault. Somehow. Even though it was Shiu that approached him after he spent a couple years as a free agent that productions had to play phone tag with to book. Now he’s at least a little serious about this whole acting thing, but Shiu wasn’t there from the start so he gets what he gets. An insanely marketable asset if the only thing you want to be known for is managing the big, scary guy in every action movie out in the past few years. In pigeonholing himself into what he’s good at, Toji has tied Shiu’s hands but that’s not really his issue. Especially not when he’s pissing him off, telling him to stop talking nice to you. 

“All I’m saying is a little discretion would be highly appreciated.” Toji nods like he’s taking his manager’s words to heart but he knows there’s not much the man can do without shooting himself in the foot by pissing off the only person he’s got on contract. 

The people wanna see the two of you together. Toji wants to see the two of you together. And you’re not putting up a fuss about seeing him on every set you show up to. The only person upset with the arrangement is Shiu, and Toji barely listens to anything the man says in the first place. So when you let slip during a break to reset a scene that you’re going through the audition process for some indie thriller starting up production he’s quick to piece together enough information to get himself in the door of an audition without Shiu knowing. You’re new enough that you’ve never had anyone else as your love interest and something cocky and maybe a tad bit possessive in him wants to keep it that way. He likes how the two of you look together, so why ruin a good thing by letting someone else work with you when you already work so well together? And you just have to look so happy to see him when the final cast is announced. 

Here you come, all smiles and newly dyed hair, asking why he didn’t tell you he was trying for a part, too, and he just shrugs to keep from telling a lie. Because the truth is he wasn’t supposed to be trying for a role but like clockwork a villain was needed and he showed up to fill the spot. And it works out in his favor because he’s not here to play some one note guy with a gun. Instead he’s playing a psychopath or sociopath–he’s still not a hundred percent on the difference but you explained that there definitely is a difference–and it just so happens that his character is obsessed with you. Shiu made a snide comment about “a little on the nose, isn’t it,” when the first script came through but Toji elected to ignore him. It’s not some well-guarded secret that he likes working with you so who cares if it seems a bit much that he’s somehow always one step behind you. 

Apparently, the fans care. They care a lot. He’s still trying to wrap his head around people caring so much about what he’s doing. When Shiu gets to throwing around media jargon he usually tunes him out but he hears enough about it from you that he’s starting to recognize certain terms. Fans, stans–two different things, maybe–fansites, and saesaengs–at least that’s what Shiu calls them, and they’re bad fans. Toji would rather call them what they are, which is crazed stalkers, but in the industry there needs to be a code word for everything. He’s caught you scrolling through your own tags on social media more than once, “just to see what they’re saying,” you insist, and then sulk when Toji takes your phone because you don’t need to have an unfiltered experience about how people view you online. It’s a dangerous place for someone so sensitive. You don’t have the same aloofness that he has to how people perceive him and he doesn’t need you getting your feelings hurt. 

Supposed fans like to pick at every little thing people in the spotlight do. An hour on whatever app you’re scrolling that day would pick you apart like buzzards over roadkill and leave you nursing your hurt feelings for days to come. New insecurities you haven’t even considered having would crop up because one person made a comment on your nose. Never mind the fact that it looks perfect just the way it is. At least to Toji. But you’re always quick to remind him that he has something nice to say no matter how you look, which isn’t wrong but he’s never lied or over embellished his thoughts. You are beautiful. It’s not his fault for pointing out the obvious. And his blatant, albeit silent, admiration works towards your newest project together. He hears the crew whispering between takes about how unnerving he is on camera, and how it doesn’t entirely seem like an act when he’s looking at you. 

It isn’t. Although Toji isn’t quite unhinged enough to stalk you or slaughter anyone that gets too close. He doesn’t need to anyway. You offer yourself up so sweetly like you can’t tell how frustratingly tempting you are. He tries to behave. For your benefit. He doesn’t care about Shiu’s constant reminders for “discretion.” And if your agent has anything to say to you about it, you’ve yet to mention it. And you never turn down his offers to go out after work. 

Someone asks for your autograph when you enter the restaurant together, begging for a picture with the two of you before a starry-eyed hostess ushers you to a private table. That picture will cost him another afternoon of Shiu yapping in his ear about tarnishing his reputation but that’s a problem for later because Toji is still thinking about how you rested your hand on his chest and leaned against his shoulder for the photo. There’s probably nothing to it. Intimacy like that comes like muscle memory after so many photoshoots for movie stills and promotional images. There’s a poster somewhere of the two of you posed in just the same position but that had been directed by a photographer. This you did on your own. Toji tries not to dwell on it as you flip through the menu. He knows from experience that you’ll stare blankly at the words printed on the paper, flipping through each page like you’re reading it, just to look up with that deer in headlights face that you get anytime a waiter asks for your order. You can deal with a swarm of paparazzi with a breezy smile but the moment someone asks you what you want to eat you freeze up. 

“I don’t know what to get,” you hum, still looking over all the options. Toji knows what you want. It’s an Italian restaurant and he knows you like pasta. He picks your order before his own, setting the menu aside to watch you pretend to make a choice. It’s cute, because he knows you’re genuinely trying to pick but without fail you start to blank as soon as the waitress saunters over to the table looking far more primped than the others he’s seen milling around. There’s gloss on her lips and her hair is pulled back so neatly it looks freshly done. It almost looks like she’s just clocked in except her cheeks are flushed bright and there’s a slight tremble to her hands. The hostess must’ve spread the word that celebrities were dining at table 17. She smiles real big, eyes fixed on Toji as you frantically flip through your menu, trying to decide on something. He reaches over to take it from you, giving the overeager waitress both your orders before sending her on her way. 

“Thanks,” you smile. Of course, he wants to say, I got you, baby. Instead he keeps his mouth shut, nodding in acknowledgment as he waits for you to start up a new conversation. You’re on about something to do with production, how you’re still not used to being important enough to have your own assistant on set, when the waitress returns with your drinks. Her hand linger on Toji’s glass, condensation dripping over her fingers as if she’s waiting for him to reach for the cup and brush his fingers over hers. It’s like something straight out of a romance movie and he might’ve found the humor in the attempt if it weren’t so annoying. Instead of reaching for his drink he sits back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest as he glowers at the girl. 

She interrupted your story about you assistant messing up your breakfast order yesterday, but you don’t seem bothered as you stick your straw in your drink, humming happily after the first sip. He ordered you one of those Shirley Temples that you always get, candied cherries floating in the soda and grenadine. After a beat longer of Toji’s unflinching glare, the waitress finally retreats with a quiet chirp about your food being out soon. You thank her and Toji wants to tell you not to waste your breath, but that would probably only confuse you. For as intuitive as you can be, you still haven’t grasped the fact that Toji would kill to be your man. It would almost be endearing how oblivious you are if it wasn’t grating on his last nerve. Here you are thanking a girl for flirting with him like it didn’t take every shred of his patience to not tell her to fuck off and leave him alone. 

“So, anyway,” you continue, twirling the straw wrapper between your fingers, “he’s so used to assisting Kyoko”–some other actress Toji’s heard of in passing–“that he never actually asked for my order and just came back with her usual. Apparently she likes tomatoes in her eggs but I had to pick them out. And my omelet still ended up tasting like tomatoes. It was so bad I couldn’t finish it.” You screw your face up like just recalling the story has brought the taste back to your tongue. Toji already knows about your aversion to tomatoes. He always reminds the wait staff to remove it from your order whenever you’re out together. All it took was one time watching you peel a tomato off your burger for him to commit the little quirk to memory. 

“You should get a new one,” he tells you. He’s had his fair share of assistants but they’re a rotating roster of equally intimidated people flinching every time he calls their name like he’s going to tell them to go play in traffic. Usually he just wants a drink or something from the restaurant up the street but something about Toji is just so suffocating that most assistants barely last through filming. There are very few people that can tolerate his terse personality but he’s glad you’re one of them. So pretty and so sweet like you don’t realize that everyone on the production staff avoids him unless it’s absolutely necessary to speak with him. It’s half reputation and half unmitigated judgment. Toji would like to think he’s not all bad. He can be cordial in a distant way when not provoked but so many people seem to have an expert ability to pluck at his nerves. 

“Nah, it’s fine.” You’re laughing like it isn’t a big deal that you weren’t able to eat because some inattentive staff member didn’t do their job correctly. “I told him what happened and he apologized, even asked if he should go and get me my actual order, but by then it was about time for filming to start.” You wave your hand dismissively. “It wasn’t anything serious.” Except it was because you’d had to go hungry because of someone’s incompetence. There’s a reason Toji is always taking you out. Most actresses have a habit of skimping on meals to look as trim as possible and he’s not about to let you starve because that’s what the media thinks looks best. He likes you just the way you are and, as far as Toji is concerned, his opinion is the only one that should matter. Not even your own as your food arrives and you whine about not being able to finish it all. 

“I’ve seen you eat more than that.” It comes out just a hair too harsh and he can see it settle over you as if he meant it as an insult. “It’s just pasta,” he says before you can get too in your head about it. “It looks like more than it is.” You grumble something under your breath, likely something snarky about how he doesn’t have to worry about portion control because you’re always saying how his stomach is a black hole. His physique is a testament to how far the human body can be pushed thanks to his tumultuous upbringing. A chasm of memories that don’t quite fit together, punched with holes like a moth-eaten shirt. Something about trauma and dissociation Shiu had said after a night of drunken oversharing. 

It sounded like he was reading off the first link he found in the search results while he was looking up why Toji was such an abrasive asshole all the time. Realistically, Toji knows he has things to work on just like he knows he doesn’t care enough to put in the effort. It is what it is and as far as he’s concerned the future is far more interesting than the brick wall his brain has built between the present and the past. The future has you and there’s not much he can think of that’s better than that. Not when you’re sitting across from him yapping about whatever pops into your head and happily eating the food he knew you’d like. 

“I mentioned in an interview once that I really liked this one author, and they’re releasing a new book soon. Apparently they sent me a signed advanced copy! There was a little handwritten note and everything!” It’s cute how you’re famous and still getting excited about another public figure acknowledging your existence. There’s something so genuine and humble in your happiness that seems to be missing from most of the big names he’s worked alongside. Toji isn’t always the easiest to work with considering how short his fuse is but he’s not one to take it out on people. He’s more hard stares and gruff one-liners while he’s seen other actors shout at the staff like they’re children needing to be scolded. So far, the egotistical people he’s worked with have enough sense not to snap at Toji directly. The only person that’s ever mouthed off to him is you, and it’s always within reason. He is a dick sometimes and you’re just so preoccupied with pleasing everyone that you’ll bite at him for being a bit too short with a co-star or snapping at a member of the wardrobe staff for taking too long for his liking. You make everything more pleasant for everyone involved. A little ray of sunshine in Toji’s otherwise dreary life. 

He was right about the food. You finish your pasta and two of your cherry drinks before Toji pays the tab, ignoring the waitress’ number written at the bottom of the receipt. He hardly notices the blue scribbles, but you do. It seems to flip a switch in your brain as you stare at it before Toji crumples it and shoves it into his pocket. You’re quiet as you leave the restaurant, going a few paces before you finally find your voice. 

“Are you gonna call her?” Your tone isn’t as playful as it usually is when you tease him about all the attention he draws. He’s gotten free drinks at bars and comped meals at restaurants because some waitress or bartender thought he was handsome. Toji has grown used to women giggling behind their hands as he passes and men peeking at him from the corner of their eye like he won’t notice. There’s a certain allure to his surliness that no one but you seems to be immune to. You and maybe Shiu. Usually the most you’ll give him is a laugh and a sarcastic quip about how he’s a public liability for all the attention he commands. Usually a joke about him stopping traffic. But you seem a bit more serious today, a bit more bothered than usual. For a second, Toji considers that he might be hearing things where you didn’t mean them. But then he catches the slight pout of your lips tinged red from your drink and he knows something’s up. 

“The waitress,” you say when he takes too long to answer, “she gave you her number, right?” It takes Toji a moment to realize this is the first time anyone has been so forward with their flirtations in front of you. Of course there were always the compliments and thinly veiled innuendos, but it never goes too far considering most people just assume the two of you are together like that. This waitress had taken a chance slipping him her number, but it’s not like Toji wants it. He hands you the rumpled receipt without a second thought. There at the bottom, in that same sparkly blue pen she used to take your order, is her name and number. 

“Kanna.” You say, eyes narrowing as you stare at the digits of her phone number. Toji decides to test the waters because there was certainly a hint of disdain in your voice as you read her name. You mumble something about her handwriting being messy and Toji can’t help but laugh. 

“Jealous, baby?” Sunlight dances over your lashes as your eyes snap to his face. He watches you try to hide your expression, your pout disappearing as you hand him back the receipt. He shoves it back in his pocket without a second glance because he knows you’d say something about littering if he dropped it on the ground just to prove a point.

“No.” You say it too quickly for it to be true. 

“Liar.” Toji laughs because you’re so clearly bothered. Usually someone making a pass at him wouldn’t get you so flustered but there’s something different about you today. You’re more openly affectionate. There’s still those moments of hesitation but you’ve been more free with grabbing his hand as you walk and leaning against him when you’re idle. That girl couldn’t have rattled you. She was hardly anything to look at, less so when Toji is constantly surrounded by a plethora of perfectly curated women that fit rigidly into the popular look of the moment. Trendsetting hairstyles and the latest designer clothes. You’re more subdued, less artificial in your style choices, yet he still finds you leagues more beautiful than anyone he’s ever seen before. Certainly more so than that random waitress and her glitter pen. 

Toji has to hold back a smile as you walk ahead of him. Taking three steps for every one of his and still only managing to stay a half step in front of him. He can tell you’re trying to distance yourself, arms crossed and lips pouted as you rush forward. Toji let’s you. It’s not like you’re far ahead and, lucky for him, you’re headed to the same place. The hotel is a few blocks away and Toji takes the time to enjoy the way the sun moves over your hair, golden light settling like a halo around your head. It’s only when you reach the towering silhouette of the hotel that the sun is eclipse and you go dull. Without the shower of gilded light you look more dejected than annoyed. A kicked puppy rather than an angry dog. You make it as far as the elevator before Toji decides he’s had enough of the running. His grip on your arm is as gentle as he can manage while keeping you from slipping away from him. His free hand finds your hip as the floors rush past. Your shuffling lifts your shirt ever so slightly and Toji finds his thumb brushing over the exposed skin above your waistband before he can contemplate the consequences.

Toji touches you all the time. As his on screen love interest, he’s inclined to be physically affectionate when the cameras are rolling. But even off screen he can’t help the way his true desires bleed into his actions. The media eats it up every time a picture of the two of you surfaces, the rumor mills running overtime to concoct a front page story for one tabloid or another. But that’s always been part of the show. The same way you leaned into him when that fan asked for a picture is the way he holds your waist on the red carpet. This is different. There are no cameras. No one to impress or enthrall. This is simply Toji wanting to touch you, and you letting him. The feeling of his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your shirt have gotten you to go still, leaning back into his chest as he watches your reflection in the polished metal of the elevator doors. 

“Let go.” It’s only the two of you in the elevator and yet your voice is no louder than a whisper. Toji scoffs, hands loosening little by little. 

“You want me to?” 

“No.” Your voice is even smaller than before. The quietest admission like you’re unsure of it yourself. Still, Toji lets go and watches you stumble because you were leaning so heavily against him. 

Immediately he can feel the absence of your warmth against his chest, but he’ll let you come back to him. He’s made his intentions clear. From here, the choice is yours. When the doors ding open, you nearly sprint down the hall and Toji assumes you’ve made your choice. He can live with it. He doesn’t blame you for it. The moments you’ve shared together always felt a bit too good to be true, just as perfect as when the cameras are rolling. But you stop in the middle of the hallway. Your room is further down but you don’t move to go any further, as if something has rooted you to that place. Toji sets a leisurely pace in his approach. 

There’s the expectation that you’ll go running off again the moment he gets too close like a rabbit evading a wolf, but you surprise him with your stillness. Even as he recaptures your waist, hands more purposefully dipping under your shirt as he pulls you into his chest. This isn’t the place for it. A picture like this would be a PR nightmare and he’d never hear the end of it from Shiu. But Toji can’t bring himself to worry about that right now. Instead he asks which room you want to go to. His is closer but he doesn’t doubt you’d be more comfortable in your own. You lead the way, swiping your card to unlock the door before pulling him inside. 

After a month of filming, you’ve turned this temporary situation into your own. It smells like you more than any industrial strength cleaner that the housekeepers use. He recognizes the smell of your shampoo and that scented lotion that you love so much. The bed is freshly made and that damn duck that a fan gifted you months ago is propped up against the pillows next to the remote. A bit of tension leaks from your shoulders as you laugh and explain that the housekeepers have been doing this for weeks, setting a cute little scene for you to return to after they’ve straightened up the room. You set the remote and duck on the nightstand as you sit at the edge of the bed, perched as if you don’t want to crease the freshly steamed linens. You look nervous and it stops Toji from wandering further than the little entryway. He’s flanked by a closet and a mirror just like in his room but he can’t take his eyes off you. Your hands are tucked between your thighs and he tries not to focus on the way you’re shifting and squirming, squeezing your legs together. 

He can almost see the heat flooding through your body and he’s more than capable of flushing it out if you’ll just ask him to. He feels like a leashed dog waiting for the command to pounce. He reaches up to brace his arms against the dropped ceiling annexing the entryway from the rest of the room. For all your silence, your body is speaking for itself. Toji’s eyes don’t miss the way your throat bobs as you swallow, eyes focused on the way his arms flex above his head. 

“I can’t tell you what to do,” Toji says even though he really wants to. He knows you’d listen, too. But this isn’t something he can script and direct. You have to decide for yourself, give him the words he’s looking to hear. “You gotta tell me what you want, baby.” He sees the little pet name land, watches how you dip your chin and look up at him through your lashes. Embarrassed and he hasn’t even done anything yet. 

“Don’t make me,” you mumble. It’s so starkly different from the sultry confidence he sees on set, a true testament to your skills as you struggle to find the words to say you want him. Because he knows you do. It’s clear in the way you keep stealing glances at him even as you point your face away, hiding like he can’t see the way your teeth nip nervously at your lip. 

“I won’t.” He agrees. “Won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, so you gotta tell me. What do you want, baby?” 

Toji wants to think he’d be able to turn tail and head back to his own room if you denied him, take a cold shower and forget this ever happened, but he knows it’s a lie. He’s already so swept up in your orbit that denial would feel like a punch to the gut. He’s taken worse, but not from you. It would be like sucking the air from his lungs. It’s gotten so bad that he can’t imagine a day without you. Work was only a pretense. He got to see you everyday because you were contractually obligated. Now you’re far past coworkers hanging around each other because it’s what the job demands. He likes to think you see him as a friend, maybe something more. He could live with just being a friend as long as it means he gets to spend time in your bed. He’s got so few people that he talks to on a day to day basis that Toji imagines it wouldn’t really make a difference what you called him as long as you do call him. 

Finally, you don’t say his name, or anything really, but you extend a hand towards him and he rushes forward like a tsunami swallowing the shoreline. He kneels and tries not to think of how stupid he must look prostrating himself at your feet. You don’t seem to think any less of him for his poorly concealed eagerness. It's a desire grown over years of working alongside you. A sort of desperation that will knock the breath out of your lungs as soon as you give him the go ahead. Because Toji has had women. Countless, faceless. He’s slept with enough people to know this feels different. He wonders if this is what it's like for desire to feel real. Because why else would he be so hung up on you after so long. He’s not a man after a chase. He won’t run after anyone. Unless it’s you. He’s been running so fucking hard that he’s nearly out of breath and here he is so close to the finish line in a marathon he hadn’t realized he was running. And you’re the prize brushing his hair back and touching the scar at the corner of his mouth like he’s something to be gentle with. 

“You scare me.” He hears you say it through waves of blood rushing in his ears. He’s familiar with fear but never from you. From day one you’d been strangely calm around him. Like a deer sitting beside a mountain lion without a care in the world. Toji knows he’s something to be afraid of. He’s lived his life. He knows exactly how dangerous he is, how terrifying he must seem. It was stupid to think you were above that fear just because you smiled at him. 

“I’m scared you’re gonna hurt me.” You say softly. But you’re still touching him. Humans tame predators, he reminds himself. A wolf can be turned into a dog with the proper treatment. He thinks again of how he’s kneeling at your feet. He’s been tamed–whipped as Shiu called it–by you. 

“M’not gonna hurt you.” He tries to work the gravel from his voice, to sound less brooding as he reassures you. It doesn’t work. He’s set in stone. Too old to learn a new trick. If you’ll have him, Toji will be whatever you need, but you gotta take him as he is. Because it’s all he has to give. 

“Promise?” Your tone is so soft he half expects you to stick out your pinky or make him cross his heart. 

“I promise.”

“I’m serious, Toji. I don’t want to be just another girl to you. If we do this, we’re doing this. You can’t use me and leave me. I won’t let you.” He hears the unspoken words. I won’t let you hurt me. So that’s what you meant. Of course you aren’t afraid of him. You’re scared in the way everyone seemed to be of each other. Scared to commit, scared to be vulnerable. Toji loathes to think he feels the same. Rejection would hurt if it came from you. But it hasn’t. You’re still playing with his hair and Toji hears a damning thought surface in his head; I could marry this girl. He shoves it down before it can fully form. It’s too soon, too optimistic. He knows who he is as much as he tries to be better when he’s with you. Toji could hurt you. Get scared and break your heart. He knows if he did he’d never see you again. 

No more stupid videos getting sent to him at 5AM because you’re in the makeup chair at the crack of dawn. No more ordering your food because you can’t ever get the words out yourself. No more shoving you to the inside of the sidewalk because you like balancing along the curb as you walk. He could live without seeing you on set ever again. That had only been a symptom. The root of it was simply you. In any way he could have you. 

It’s pathetic but he’s addicted in a way he never thought possible. Never let himself think it was possible. Not for a guy like him. Movies gave him an outlet for his more violent tendencies. He would’ve done just as well as a boxer or something else where he could get paid to rough people up in a way that was above board. He’d done it the illegal way for years. Got away with it too. You have every right to be scared of him. Every right to leave him. But in this moment you’re here and he’s selfish. He leans up to kiss you. 

It doesn’t feel new. There’s no picturesque fireworks clouding his head. It isn’t new. He’s kissed you a hundred times over by now. It doesn’t feel new, but it feels right. Especially without the motivation of a camera. He isn’t kissing a character, he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. 

“Stop thinking so hard.” Because Toji can tell by the way your hands flutter over his shoulders with nervous uncertainty that you’re not all here. You’re thinking about this like someone is going to snap at you for messing up an angle or pressing too close and smearing your makeup. He hears you mumble a feeble apology. 

“None of that. We’re doing this, baby. You and me. Don’t think about anything else.” That gets you to loosen up enough for Toji to work you out of your clothes. He’s never had the pleasure. There’s never been a reason for his hands to be pressing underneath your shirt and it feels like his hands are melting into your skin as they push towards your chest, taking your shirt with them. You’re warm and pliant, softening like butter under his touch. Toji gets you out of your shirt with a bit too much eagerness, ruffling your hair as you squeak at his desperation. He can’t even find it in him to care if he looks overeager now because he is. 

He’s been after you for years and he’s not about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Beneath your clothes is an endless expanse of skin hidden only by the covering of your underwear. Plain cotton, nothing special, but it has him throbbing in his pants because it’s you. And you have the audacity to mumble about “didn’t know we were doing this, would’ve worn something nicer,” like Toji isn’t practically drooling at the way your pretty blue panties sit on your hips. He thumbs at the elastic, pulling it back just to hear it snap against your skin. It’s like unwrapping a gift and he’s looking to savor it. 

“They’re gonna know,” he says as he kisses along the shape of your breasts peeking out the top of your bra. He could put a mark there. Bite down on the soft skin and leave a print of his teeth in your skin, put a bruise there with his greedy mouth as he licks at the line where skin meets fabric, hiding the rest of you away in the cups of your bra. He could mark you up and they’d know. Everyone would know exactly who did it because Toji isn’t ashamed to admit he’s been after you like a dog, barking at anyone that got even remotely too close for comfort. A co-star could simply be complimenting the outfit wardrobe had chosen for a particular scene and he’d be looming behind them with murder in his eyes. Of course you look gorgeous but only he should get to look that hard at you. 

“Don’t!” You squeak when he noses over your skin, looking for a place to sink his teeth. ���Don’t leave any marks!” He almost wants to ignore you and latch his mouth on to you anyway, but Toji resists the urge. You’ve asked him to behave and he wants to be a gentleman for you. Or, at least, the closest a man like him can get to it. He can still tease you about it, though. 

“No?” He mocks you. “You don’t want me to leave any marks? What, you got someone else that gets to see you like this, baby?” You squirm at his patronizing tone, a pout working its way onto your lips. He nips at your bottom lip before smoothing the expression with a kiss. 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” you whine. “Makeup and–” He kisses you again, slipping his tongue between your parted lips, because of course he knows. Makeup would make a fuss if he left marks on your neck, wardrobe would pitch a fit if they found hickeys in a place their designated outfits couldn’t cover. You’d be in the makeup chair even longer as they painted over all the places he’d marked you up. 

“You taste like cherries.” He mumbles against your mouth. The taste has him fumbling for his pants like a fucking virgin because it’s so innate to you. Those little fruity drinks you love so much have him pressing painfully against his zipper. Toji has you leaned up against the pillows as he sits back on his knees to pull his shirt off. He doesn’t miss the way your thighs twitch, pressing tighter together at the sight of him looming over you bare-chested. He doesn’t toss his shirt far because he wants to see you wearing it later. Right now you smell like you. Your lotion, your shampoo. He can’t wait to tired you out and wrap you up in his clothes until you smell like him. 

He wants to mark you up in other ways if he can’t do it with his lips. So everyone knows exactly who you belong to. The idea that you had to make him swear to not let this be a one off kind of thing is utterly laughable when Toji hasn’t wanted to stray away from you since nearly the first time you met. Nothing anyone else has to offer could be better than what you can give him. Although he’s happy that the little waitress tried. You wouldn’t have been so worked up if she hadn’t. He’s been teetering on the edge of insanity being so close to you everyday and it’s nice that he’s finally caught a glimpse of what you’re like when you get so wrapped up in your mind that you start acting out of character. Because Toji hasn’t felt this crazy over anyone and he’s glad he’s not suffering this lovestruck psychosis alone. It’s dumb and childish but he’s got so little in his life that’s sweet and pure that he isn’t about to poison this with toxic hang ups about maintaining his persona.

“Did it make you mad, baby?” He asks as he bullies his way between your legs. You move with him, thighs parting to give him space even as you shrink back into the pillows, brows pinched as you watch him settle his cheek against your thigh. “Did that girl at the restaurant upset you?” He wants to hear you admit it. He smirks at the way you screw up your face, nose scrunching in distaste at the mention of another woman. 

“Don’t say things like that when we’re like this,” you grumble, jerking the leg he’s resting on. He bites at you in retaliation and because he wants to hear you squeak about leaving marks again. 

“You are mad.” He smirks and watches the way your cheeks puff indignantly as you pout at him. He wants to kiss that petulant little expression off your face but Toji can’t bring himself to move even an inch away from where he’s resting. With his face cushioned by the pillowy warmth of your thighs he can see the mess spreading between your legs. A dark spot is forming in your panties, getting bigger with every shift of your hips. Toji slips a finger under the elastic and can practically hear the sound of the fabric sticking to your skin. It makes his mind go blank and all he can think about is getting closer. He blinks and suddenly his face is buried at the apex of your thighs, panting like a dog as he noses against the soiled fabric, tongue chasing the taste of you seeping through the cotton. 

“Wait!” You squeak, and he tries to. He pulls back but only far enough to look up at you. His nose stays nuzzled against the seam of your cunt, brushing against where your clit is throbbing through the fabric. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks even though he can think of a few things as his finger drags through the space between your panties and pussy, making a slick noise that has him grinding against the mattress. So fucking wet. 

“Nothing…” Toji recognizes the face you make in an instant. He’s seen it a hundred times over by now. It always reminds him of a puzzle the way you fix your expression whenever a camera is rolling. It’s always your mouth first. Smile dropped, pout gone, lips pressed into a neutral line. He sees every piece of your face fall into place until it’s perfectly blank. He watches you awhile longer until your composure breaks again and your brows dip into something resembling anxiety. 

“Nervous, baby?” He doesn’t need you to answer but you do anyway, nodding slowly. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. Just lemme take care of you, okay?” You nod again and Toji rewards the loosening of your muscles with a gentle kiss to your stomach. “Behave.” He says and watches the way you tense up again. It’s less nerves, more anticipation as you watch him slink back between your legs. He decides to spare your underwear, pulling them down nice and proper instead of tearing them off of you like he’s so desperate to do. It takes a few seconds longer and gives you a chance to knock your knees together as he sits up to pull the bundle of fabric off your ankles. 

“What did I say?” He asks, loving the way the timbre of his voice seems to send a shiver through your prone body. “Behave.” You don’t resist as he spreads your legs again but you start to squirm the longer he stares. Toji has spent many a night in the privacy of his hotel room fisting his dick to whatever image of you his mind could conjure but nothing could come close to the real thing. 

“S’pretty, baby.” He mumbles, tongue tripping over the words. He’s just lost any semblance of cognitive function. All he can see is you, spread out and dripping on the sheets, and he can’t wait another second to get his mouth on you. 

I’m gonna marry this girl, he can’t help the thought as your lashes flutter and lips part the moment he gets his mouth on your pussy. You’re still nervous, twitching and squirming like you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. Toji decides for you, arms hooking under your legs to hold you still. That still leaves your hands to flutter anxiously, skating over where his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs and brushing across his hair like you’re afraid to touch him. It makes him groan in annoyance, the sound humming against your clit. It makes you go limp, hands falling still. One rests against his head and the other over his hand. Toji loosens his grip on your leg just enough to thread his fingers through yours, pointedly ignoring how intimate the small touch feels even though he has his tongue buried in your pussy. He’s being greedy, tonguing at your hole and nosing against your clit as your cunt makes a mess of his face, but the moment is softened by the way your fingers squeeze around his. 

He feels your nails against his scalp. Not quite gripping, more so petting and it feels like something akin to a reward as he makes a mess between your legs. You don’t tense up again and Toji realizes the idle movement of your hands is grounding you even as your thighs shake around his head. He can barely breathe but he can’t even fathom pulling away when you’re making such pretty noises and trying to grind your hips against his face. You’re slurring something between those soft sighs that sounds an awful lot like “thank you,” and Toji wrenches his mouth away from you because he’s one more head scratch away from cumming in his pants like some virgin. He doesn’t even bother to get his underwear down all the way. He just shoves the waistband low enough to get his dick out and nearly collapses on top of you the second he feels your cunt against his skin. 

Toji braces an arm beside your head, leaning close enough to feel your breath ghosting across his skin. He kisses you to get you to close your eyes, but he keeps his half lidded as he watches you squirm as you taste yourself on his tongue. The mess you’ve left on his face transfers to yours as he rubs his face against your cheek like a needy puppy. It would be more embarrassing if you weren’t acting just as clinging. He can feel the needling sensation of your nails digging into his shoulder. It sends shivers down his spine, lingering just right on the cusp of pain and pleasure. Toji tries to kiss you again but it ends up being more of a heady clashing of teeth and tongue as he presses his parted lips against yours. Still tastes like cherries, he thinks, enjoying the mix between sweet and savory as the taste of your arousal still sticks to his tongue. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he groans as you press a wet kiss to the corner of his mouth, right where his scar is. And because you’re so frustratingly sweet you blink up at him, slow and wide like the little doe eyed beauty that you are, and ask, “Like what?”

“Like that,” Toji groans as you raise your brows and tilt your head, lips pulling into another one of your signature pouts. “Fuck, turn over.” He hooks an arm under your back and flips you fast enough to leave you gasping. Your hand flutters to find him again where it’s settled against your heaving stomach. He can feel your pulse flutter as you catch your breath, body shivering with something softer than anxiety. Anticipation weaves its way through your body. Toji can tell in the way you tense and relax at each minute movement he makes. He decides to tease you as he fists the base of his cock, squeezing hard to keep from cumming on the smooth expanse of your back. His hand moves from your stomach to leave you teetering on quivering arms as he trails his finger up your spine. You bend to match his touch, arching as his fingertip traces over the contours of your back. Goosebumps raises where he touches and you shiver, head falling between your shoulders. 

Toji takes advantage of the vulnerable position. Your hair is usually down during filming and there’s little reason for that to change in the coming days so he feels little guilt about the way his teeth scrape against the nape of your neck. It makes your arms give out and Toji’s teeth tighten on the soft skin as your new position presses you back against his hips. He hadn’t meant to leave a mark but there’s likely to be one now. He pulls away, lapping apologetically at the faint indent of his teeth before grabbing your hips to keep you flush against him. If you move again he’s going to ruin the sheets instead of you, but you’re still squirming like you want him to embarrass himself by coming too soon. It becomes plainly clear that your intention is to kill him as you toss your hair over your shoulder and look up at him through your lashes, mumbling a soft “are you gonna fuck me now?” 

The answer is a resounding yes and Toji can’t bring himself to think of anything else as he guides his dick inside you. This time he does collapse, falling forward before he can catch himself. It pushes him inside in one go and you let out a long whine, grinding against him as Toji rests his forehead against the back of your neck. You’re starting to sweat now with all that wiggling you’ve been doing and he licks along the column of your neck to distract from the way your pussy is choking his dick. He can hear you whining, feel it too with the way his chest is flush against your back. A soft litany of “please,” and “move,” with his name punctuating each little gasp. He can feel you trying to grind against him, held still partially by the weight of his body. He’s got you almost completely pinned and decided to finish the job. You squeak as he presses his knee against yours, spreading your legs until you collapse onto your stomach. 

“Stay there,” he says like you have any hope of moving without him peeling his heavy body off of you. He has no intentions of doing anything remotely close to that as he shoves a pillow under your hips and his arm under your jaw. 

“Comfy?” He asks. He can feel the way your cheeks are squished in the crook of his arm as you try to nod and go back to begging. He nips at the shell of your ear, soothing the sting with his tongue, as he pulls his hips back. You’re close. He can feel it in the way your pussy is desperate to keep him inside, squeezing tight every time he pulls away. It’s got him on the edge, filling the hotel room with the heavy sound of skin against skin. He’s glad the bed is so sturdy. 

There’s no squeaking or knocking headboard as he drives you up the mattress with his desperate rutting. He gets a hand between you and the sheets to pinch at your nipples, rolling the sensitive buds between his fingers. It makes you keen and that’s the only thing Toji can’t be bothered to keep quiet. He wants to hear every little sound you make after giving him so much lip about the waitress. You had so much to say earlier and he’s only too happy to hear you out. Neighbors be damned. It’s likely the floor is mostly if not completely vacant given that two celebrities are boarding here but Toji can’t help but want you to be loud in case there’s anyone to hear. This all feels a bit too much like a dream and he’d relish a noise complaint just to make it all seem real. 

“You feel so good, baby.” Toji grunts in your ear. “So good for me.” Something like a giggle works its way out of your mouth and Toji almost tells you to shut up because the sound goes straight to his dick. His hand leaves your breasts to find that spot between your legs. Your breathing stutters as his calloused fingers find your clit. It’s like lighting a fuse. You start up your squirming again, nails scratching at his arm tucked under your chin like you’re trying to get away. It takes Toji a second to realize that you are. Curling up on yourself, trying to run from the feeling of his body on yours. You’re not saying anything, but you are drooling. He can feel it slicking down his forearm as he loosens his hold just enough to make sure you’re not suffocating under his strength. He can hear those stuttering little breaths and soft mewls that are soon accompanied by a hand pushing blindy at his wrist. 

“Fuck no,” Toji grumbles. His hand leaves your clit just long enough to roll you onto your back. He hears a little sigh of relief as you relax into the sheets for a moment. There are tears sparkling in your eyes and wetting your lashes. Your whole face is shining with sweat and spit and it makes Toji a little prideful to see you so thoroughly ruined because of him. 

“You gonna be good for me, baby? Gonna behave?” He asks once you catch your breath. Before you can answer he’s already gathering your wrists in one hand to press them into the pillows above your head while his other hand slaps his dick against your messy cunt. He grinds the head of his cock against your clit, precum staining your skin as he teases you, asking if it feels good. He huffs out a laugh when you nod. It’s so earnest, so desperate. 

“Yeah it does. You don’t have to run from it, baby. Lemme make you feel good. Want you to feel good for me.” He pants, leaning down until you’re nose to nose as he presses back inside you. The sound you make is lost in the press of your lips as Toji lavishes you with more sloppy kisses. He can feel himself teetering on the edge, balls tightening with each little whine that leaves your lips. His hand finds its way back between your legs and he has your back arching within seconds. He can feel you trying to pull away again, arms tugging at where he has you pinned even as your greedy legs lock around his waist. He can feel your muscles trembling as he draws tight circles on your clit, whole body pulling taut as you get closer to the edge. 

The only words leaving your mouth are his name and soft gasps of “please, please, please,” like Toji is in any position to deny you what you want. He lets go of your wrists if only because he knows you won’t try to run from him now. Instead your arms wrap around him, pulling with enough strength to catch him off guard. Toji nearly collapses on top of you as you pull him into a surprisingly chaste kiss. A shudder runs down his back as your nails drag against his scalp and it’s all just a bit too much. Your pussy milking him like you’re trying to get pregnant–belatedly, he realizes he should’ve worn a condom–and your lips in his ear telling him to let go.

“Wanna feel it. Want it inside,” you whine. It’s so damningly sweet that Toji can’t find it in himself to even attempt to deny you. The thought of pulling out had briefly crossed his mind but your thighs are still locked around his waist and he isn’t above doing something stupid to satisfy himself. The consequences can be dealt with later. He lasted longer than he expected but there’s no mistaking how pent up Toji has been as he cums inside you. He fills you up and then some, feeling it leaking out. The tension bleeds from his body as he curls over you, grip loosening on your wrists enough that you wriggling free to wrap your arms around his shoulders. There’s the prickling heat of your nails scratching at him as you wrap yourself tight around him like you never want him to leave. Toji returns the favor. You shiver, a happy little sigh leaving your lips as he wraps his arms around you. 

“Clingy,” he says quietly, still loud enough for you to hear and he feels the way your arms tense then loosen, trying to pull away like you missed the humor in his voice. “Stop it.” He mutters, sitting back up to pull you into his lap. 

Usually Toji isn’t one to stick around after he’s gotten what he wants out of an encounter but the usual instinct to peel his partner off of him as soon as possible is absent with you. He revels in the way your head rests against his chest, soft breathes ghosting across his skin. Toji’s hands find your waist, fingers sinking into the softness of your skin as he lifts you just enough to pull out. There’s a puddle forming on the sheets from the way he’s leaking out of you and he entertains the thought of plugging his fingers inside you for half a second before remembering how stupid that would be after he already came inside you with no protection. You don’t seem too worried about it and Toji supposes that’s all that matters. He watches the way the mood settles into something less frenzied, more coherent, but the anger never comes. He’s expecting you to snap at him for being so careless but all he gets is a soft smile and even softer kisses. The taste of cherries still lingers. 

“We should do something about that,” he says, eyes still trained on the space between your bodies. Stained white and sticky from how hard he was fucking you. It streaks up your thighs and shines bright on his pelvis, staining the freshly changed sheets. You blink slow, like a kitten, before finally acknowledging the mess between your legs. 

“Should be fine, I’m on the pill. I’ll stop by the store later if you’re worried.” He’s not. Part of him wishes you hadn’t mentioned birth control. He’s selfish when it comes to you and even though it would be the worst outcome, Toji finds himself wondering what it would’ve been like if he did get you pregnant. Then he remembers your careers and lets the thought slip away into the recesses of his mind. It’s a desire for a later date because you’ve already said this isn’t gonna be a one and done kind of thing. There’s time for things to get more serious, to have a proper discussion instead of letting it happen on a whim. He clings to the idea of a future with you because that’s really all he has. As soon as he set eyes on you, you began to infiltrate his every thought like a weed invading his mind. But you’re not a weed, far too pretty for that. And even if you were, he likes the way you cloud his mind. Gives him something sweet to think about when there’s always been such a lack of nice things in his life. He kisses your neck, tasting sweat and perfume. After a while he gathers you up and makes you decent enough to make the trip to his room. 

“I owe Shiu money.” He groans halfway through his shower. You’re sitting just outside the tiny cubicle, perched on the toilet. Freshly washed and wearing his shirt just like he wanted. 

“You made a bet about me with your manager?” He hears the uncertainty in your voice even over the spray of water and realizes how the admission must sound. He shuts off the water and steps out into a cloud of steam to see you looking crestfallen. There’s a hesitance on your face that makes his stomach churn. Anxiety isn’t something Toji is entirely familiar with and he finds that he hates the way the acidic feeling settles in his chest. 

“Not like that, baby. He just knows how much I’ve been wanting you. He called me on my bullshit years ago.” It would be embarrassing admitting that he’s been pining after you for so long if you didn’t smile and try to hide your face. He hears you mumble, “Thought it was just me,” as you tuck your face into the collar of his shirt to cover your smile. There’s a tremble or hesitance in your voice like you can’t believe Toji would pay you the time of day, like he wasn’t just chomping at the bit to get you in bed. It’s a fair assumption given his usually detached disposition that so few people take the time to see past. You’re one of them but he can appreciate the air of unknowns that lingers around him. Toji is just like he seems on camera. 

Rude, abrasive, volatile when provoked. He acts something like a grizzled guard dog but even they have people they’re gentle for. It’s almost sickening how easily he can see himself with you. Made worse by how easily you accept him. You’re giving him that look again, like he’s your favorite person in the world. 

“What’s that look?” He asks as you watch him get dressed. He brought you to his room so you can nap on an unsoiled bed. He wonders if the housekeepers will tuck your duck in again after washing his cum out of your sheets. 

“What look?” You have the nerve to ask like you’re not looking at him with more softness than he’s seen in his entire life. He decides not to mention it. The need for discretion that Shiu has been trying to drill into him will be lost in the wind soon enough. Toji already couldn’t take his eyes off you and now he has more reason to be with you all the time. Media be damned, he’s gonna be all over you now that you’re his, officially. And you seem to share the sentiment as you curl up on top of him as soon as he gets in bed, humming happily when his arms find your waist. He hears a sleepy murmuring of “I’m your girlfriend,” soft and giggly like you couldn’t be more happy about it. It’s like a final nail in the coffin for Toji. He’s always thought of you as his girl and now it’s finally real. No cameras, no audience. Unscripted and real. 

[savshaikyuu]

                       𝙎𝙐𝘽𝙈𝙄𝙎𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉

Hi, if you're comfortable can you make NSFW headcannons for denki, kirishima, iida, bakugo, and if possible on another post during any point in time for ushijima, daichi, and kags. Could the read be female and dark skin also I'm not sure if you include body weight but could she be chubby. And for the denki and daichi one could you put in spitting and biting if you're comfortable of course. This is my first request so sorry if it's too long but I read your terms and wanted to try to be as detailed as possible while trying to make it make sense and could you keep me anonymous. Have a great day!

Ushijima | Daichi | Kageyama x Dark Skin!Chubby!〚FEM〛Reader

warning(s): sexual content, multiple positions, spitting kink, biting kink, roleplaying kink, established relationship.

read more: bnha ver.

a/n: woooo okay 3rd haikyuu work! and this request was actually perfect? like this is an example of how detailed but not excessive a request could be hahaha so no worries! so sorry for taking forever my love. and to clarify yes this is their time skip adult selves. thank you, anon!

USHIJIMA

PLEASEEEEE the way this man will handle you so fuckin' easily. he doesn't need to brag or tease, he has so much dominance when he does it, it's INSANE.

Ushijima is such a big fan of fucking you when he's standing.

like he loves the fact that he can hold you up and have you clinging to him as he fucks you good.

the position also gives him the nice chance to look at the way his fingers squeeze your chub, loving how your body just effortlessly molds to his.

loves to give you lots of sloppy kisses and is one to be in between your thighs like clockwork. </3

your thighs has to be his favorite part of you high-key low-key if you know what I mean,,,

he literally avoids positions where your legs aren't wrapped around him and or can't see your face.

you're a whole package deal he doesn't want to miss out on, plus he loves the way you grab at him during sessions where he really toys with you.

if he does do anything with your back facing towards him, it doesn't last for long.

he so in love with you he wants to see (and hear you) enjoy every second of it.

DAICHI

Daichi is the type of guy to be at your mercy no matter the shape.

although he does like seeing you ride him. that is an immediate 10s across the boards for him.

regular cowgirl or reversed it doesn't matter, he just likes seeing you work yourself on his cock and the light layer of sweat that dews your skin because of it.

is a fan of licking you up and biting the places he feels. there's no rhyme or rhythm at all.

it's almost like when he's making love with you he just goes by whatever his brain says next.

bite her thigh? okay. spit on her cunt before demolishing it? sounds perfect.

as long you both know your limits, you two are so very raw and open to each other.

it's literally like… mindless.

just seamlessly into each other and enjoying the moment.

it's what he loves you best in moments like that. <3

KAGEYAMA

he has a bit of a… role-playing thing to be honest.

like Kageyama wants to see you in his fan jerseys and like, fuck you in them.

you being his biggest fan in daily platonic life is what keeps him going, but you playing a part of being like an excited groupie is what keeps his cock up jjfchdfhh

sorry you cannot convince me he wouldn't be into that. 😭

like he definitely outgrew his ego… but when it comes to you?? he's the MAN!

he feels as though when you guys do stuff like that he's relieving his best moments in a different way.

feels like you understand him and doesn't shame him.

if there's ever anything you want him to do to he is 100% super willing to do it too.

does not mind at all because of his much you have done for him. :')

unexpectedly sweet ik but like the fact he doesn't have to feel ashamed or hide kinks makes him so open and relieved to be around you!

usually when he's feeling extra greatful, he fucks you harder with a bit more kisses and passion.

      🏐 all rights reserved © 🏐

[crystallizsch]

[🩷|| Yuuna Perla (they/them) ━━━━━━━━━━━━✦

Night Raven College’s sole magicless student and the prefect of Ramshackle Dorm. They live on campus with their only dorm member, Grim, a direbeast who wants to become a "Great Mage”. They are both enrolled as a package deal and are considered a single student.

Dorm: Ramshackle Grade: Freshman Class: Class A (No. 9) Age: 16-18 Height: 5'6 ft / 168 cm Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous Homeland: ??? Club: Gastronomy Club Best Subject: Master Chef Hobbies: Taking photos Pet Peeves: Being reminded of being magicless Favorite Food: Anything with chocolate Least Favorite Food: Anything spicy Talent: Being a fast-learner

Yuuna Perla is the flamboyant prefect who wears their heart on their sleeve and is sickeningly kind to anyone she meets (although exceptions do exist). They are generally unfazed by everything and is able to keep their head on their shoulder when necessary, avoiding conflict if they can. But that doesn’t mean that they can’t also revel in some kind of chaos if ever it arises.

[🩷|| Quick Notes ━━━━━━━━━━━━✦

Yuuna is my first Yuu OC!

I made Yuuna into kind of a "blank slate" so I can be more flexible with them when it comes to just random stuff.

Overall they are somewhat my more canon-compliant Yuu (but I still add a lot of aspects that are way more biased to relationships with Heartslabyul).

Yuuna is also inspired by various Alice in Wonderland characters because I like the idea that the prefect is just "Alice" in a Twisted Wonderland.

[🩷|| Random Facts ━━━━━━━━━━━━✦

🩷 Usually soft-spoken and doesn't talk much, at least when it comes to people they’re not particularly close with. But the things they say can pack a punch whenever they decide to be blunt to others or simply whenever they tease those who they consider their friends.

🩷 Yuuna, despite their own feelings towards another person, always chooses to be amicable. It’s no wonder why they seemingly managed to have some kind of a good rapport with most people due to their kind nature.

🩷 Yuuna shares Grim's appetite, the Ramshackle duo are similar to one another in a lot of ways. On top of that, Yuuna is just very protective of him because he is basically like family to Yuuna. They would defend Grim from others no matter what.

🩷 They consider Heartslabyul their second home in NRC. They love everyone the most there. Yuuna is essentially an honorary member of the dorm anyway since they always visit. They are always invited to their dorm events such as their Unbirthday parties.

🩷 Yuuna has respect for Leona as an older brother -figure. After the Octavinelle incident, Yuu was more comfortable frequently crashing Leona’s room with Grim often to just “chill and hang out” (with help from Ruggie through bribery until eventually it just became normal when Leona began to mildly tolerate them).

🩷 Generally the mediator and prefers to avoid conflict. However, they are not against picking a fight when necessary, especially when it comes to their friends. Every now and then as well (if the consequences aren’t too big to handle or if they could get away with it), Yuuna indulges in a little bit of chaos and tomfoolery.

🩷 Yuuna only grew to like taking photos after being given the Ghost Camera. They now have the habit of taking photos of everyone and everything.

🩷 Yuuna has a preference for gender-neutral terms but generally doesn’t care if they are referred to as anything else. They also like to express themself as more feminine regardless of their identity.

🩷 Has no memories of where they come from but this does not bother them at all in the slightest and they don’t know why. Yuuna is more bothered by the fact that it doesn’t bother them.

-> art masterlist -> relationship dynamics (tba) -> extended lore (tba)

[harlowcomehome]

No Answer:

I call my ex "No Answer"

As in that's my nickname for her ’cause when I call, no answer.

You lay in bed, watching the phone ring. At this point it was routine, you knew Jack was in town and he tried to reach you every time, even though you never answered.

He always had hoped you’d pick the phone up, but deep down he knew the chances were slim.

You had been broken up for months now, so why was he still calling?

You were just in bed reminiscing about all that happened between the two of you.

You and Jack met through mutual friends, over a year ago. One of your friends was having a party for Derby weekend and he showed up with Copelan. You had never met him before but it didn’t take long for the two of you to become practically inseparable.

He was drawn to your confidence and you his humor. Jack knew how to make things feel light and airy, something you weren’t used to. He constantly made a joke of things, and that would normally bother you but not when it came to Jack.

Being with him made you feel safe, something you didn’t have a lot of growing up. You didn’t trust easily but with Jack, it felt like second nature. At first, it was intimidating to you but once the walls came down the two of you were pretty much a package deal.

The night you met the two of you played air hockey, Jack was a sore loser but you were still convinced he let you win for conversation's sake. Copelan swore up and down to you that Jack wouldn’t do that, as he had a naturally competitive nature.

Jack let you think that though, but truthfully you were just better at most things than him.

You and Jack hadn’t been dating long when he started to gain more traction, and your own insecurities set in. You didn’t feel safe and secure anymore, and you felt like you had to fight for a spot in your boyfriend's life.

The two of you rarely argued in the beginning. Now when you did, it was usually your fault. Your defense mechanism was to push him away before he left on his own, and he didn’t understand why.

He had no intention of ever being without you.

When he told you that he was doing a music video for What’s Poppin, your jealously picked a fight.

You played that fight over in your head a lot, knowing you probably ruined a very pivotal moment in his career. You had regrets now, but at the time it made sense to you.

Jack ran into the room, excited, eyes wide like a little kid. He told you about the call he received and that Cole Bennett wanted to film the music video but you tuned him out once the idea was told to you.

Jack explained it would be in a diner and he’d be surrounded by women, you swore up and down that, you felt your blood physically boil.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” He sat next to you concern painted across his face.

“You’re going to be surrounded by all those beautiful women and forget all about me” you huffed.

“Baby, that would never happen” he sighed, having been through this before. “Do you wanna be in the video?” His face fell, and you could tell he felt defeated.

You shook your head, trying your best not to escalate the argument.

That night ended in tears, both your own and Jack's.

After that night you swore you’d be better, more understanding, and less jealous. And you were, for a while.

Jack ended up recording his first album, with a big label behind him meaning he had tons of opportunities that he never had before. Which also meant he was rarely ever home.

You knew you had to let him go, for the sake of his career. You knew he wanted this more than anything in the world and you didn’t want to stand in his way because you were insecure.

You remember the breakup like it was yesterday, it stayed forever engraved in your mind. The way Jack's face fell when you told him you couldn’t do it anymore broke you over and over again for months.

“But I love you, don’t you love me too?” he shouted, his lips trembling. His blue eyes filled to the brim with tears.

“It’s because I love you that I can’t do this anymore.”

He didn’t understand it at the time but the older and wiser he got, it started making more sense.

You shut your eyes tight, trying not to cry as you remembered the door slamming shut for the last time.

When Jack called your phone all the memories came flooding back, but you couldn’t bring yourself to block his number.

You watched as your phone rang for the second time tonight, Jack never called a second time, and your curiosity got the best of you.

“Hello? Are you okay?”

“Hi, I am now” his voice was warm, inviting and you immediately knew answering was likely the wrong decision. “Thought you’d never answer, remind me to change your name in my phone.”

“What is it?” You asked nervously.

“No answer, because when I call you don’t answer” he teased, knowing you loved his banter.

[kukurykunapatyku]

[I.D.: Drawing of Usopp and Vinsmoke Niji from One Piece. They're both seen from the side, circling around each other, Usopp is aiming his slingshot and Niji is brandishing an electrified sword. Usopp wears sniper king mask, red cape, green pants, brown shoes and blue-white arm warmers. Niji wears black cape with blue '2' on it, blue costiume and yellow-blue boots, he's smirking. /End I.D.]

Vinsmoke shipping week day 4: Red string / Hero x Villain

The neferious Germa group is terrorizing the streets, but fear not, because the great Sniper King is here to save you!

Strawhats are semi-superhero team. Luffy doesn't care about crime, it just happens that bad guys usually target his friends for some reason. Nami somehow convinced him to at least cover his face when they beat up guys on live television.

Niji gets a crush on two people at once and tries to deal with it in completly normal matter - by proving they're actually the same person (he's right).

⬇️Fanfic under readmore⬇️ also on Ao3

Niji carefully pinned the photo next to the others. He frowned, adjusted two more to fit the rest better and stepped back to admire his work. Photos, bus schedules, discarded papers, shard broken off the Sniper King mask, piece of fabric - all gathered together. There was just one thing to do and his board would be complete. He grinned, pulled out a ball of red yarn and began connecting the pins until they formed one massive web of evidence. And like a spider ready for dinner, he finally found that one fly that was pulling at its strings, and come to the single possible conclusion.

"And why, pray tell, do you think one of your regular customers is part of the superhero team? The one that always thwarts father's plans no less?"

"Don't you see?" Niji slammed the board. "It's all here!"

"All I see is an, admittingly ambitious, art project made of coincidences and stalking tendencies."

"Listen, it's too much to just be a coincidence, at this point it's proof."

Ichiji sighed and closed the book he was reading.

"Fine, lets indulge you. What proof?"

"First of, they drink the same coffee - both take exactly two sugar cubes, one puff of cream and two pumps of caramel syrup."

"Why do you know how Sniper King takes his coffee?"

Niji looked at him like he was stupid

"Because I asked him? He's my nemesis, I need to know those things."

"Your nemesis?" Ichiji stuttered. "Since when??"

"About two months ago; we were picking them, don't you remember? You took the witch."

Ichiji tapped his fingers on the table. That didn't sound right, he was sure if something like this happened he would have remembered. If they did it there must have been a purpose, but what? Battle strategies? Did father know? Was Ichiji supposed to tell him? And he picked the Weather Witch? What on earth could Niji be talking about-

Suddenly very tired, Ichiji put his hand on his face and slowly pulled it down.

"Niji. We played 'Fuck, Marry, Kill' about the Strawhats. How did this turn into nemesis thing?"

"Ain't that the same thing? Anyway, we're getting off track." He pointed at the blurry photo of a dark alleyway. "See?"

"See what?"

"Argh, do I have to do everything here? Look, here, it's Sniper's cape!"

Ichiji leaned forward and squinted. True, in the left corner, near the bins, there was something that could be a fragment of red fabric. Or an unlucky rat.

"I followed Usopp one evening and I lost him somewhere here," his finger followed one of the red lines until it reached a cutout of city's map, with big circle drawn in the middle of it. "But I'm sure he didn't walk much further, because he was carrying four of those babies." He tapped on the stock picture of an ice-cream package. "There were other shops on his way and he only stopped to buy them here." Next map had a red cross slapped on it. "Which means he was probably coming closer to home. Other stores in the neighborhood are over there, there, there and there. Since he didn't visit those, he must live somewhere before the road could reach any of them, or he would have just buy ice-cream there."

Niji looked at his brother expectantly. "See now?"

Ichiji blinked a few times. That was impressive recon work, and he could probably agree with him... If he knew what point he was even trying to make.

"So... you think the coffee guy lives somewhere between these streets." He pointed at the marked portion of the map. "But what does it have to do with your theory?"

"Everything! I just showed you, I found a piece of Sniper's cape next to the houses there, it's evidence!"

Ichiji massaged his temples and counted to ten. Did he have to do this? He could just leave. Maybe call Yonji so Niji could bother someone else.

But then, a voice in his head said, you have no excuse if father suddenly decides he wants an audience to hear about another freaking death ray.

If he had to listen to his family's ramblings...

"It's just red fabric, it doesn't necessary mean anything. Plus, your guy could be going to his friends house, or a party. Four boxes of ice-cream is a lot for one person."

Niji waved him away.

"Oh no, I know Usopp will eat it. He once told me he can do even five if he puts his mind to it. Calls it his 'depression repression' meal. And!" He pulled a clipped cloth Ichiji failed to notice before. "Sniper doesn't use any shabby materials! His cape is waterproof, fireproof, really hard to rip and can even withstand acid for a while. And guess what? This piece I took from the alley is exactly that!"

Ichiji sincerely hated that he actually started to consider this. "Still, you can't be sure. A lot of people live there. Plus, if I was trying to hide my identity, I wouldn't throw damming evidence with my garbage. It's more likely, if it even is the same material, that it was thrown there by somebody passing by."

Niji sneered, annoyed that the argument actually made sense.

"We all are hiding our identity; why 'if'?"

"Father's hightech company is one letter away from just spelling his evil codename, we lost a member around the same time Sanji, very publicly, left the family and we barely cover our faces when we go out. Are we hiding our identities?"

"It's different, we're rich. We can do whatever we want and so one will accuse us."

"That just proves my point. I doubt Sniper can afford being find out, so he's probably more cautious handling his leftovers."

"Maybe he's rich too, you don't know that. I mean, he's not since I know it's Usopp, but. Well. Doesn't matter, because I have even more evidence!"

He gestured at another portion of the board, with two papers on it. One seemed to be a photo of Sniper taken in the middle of battle, even more unfocused than the others. The other was a printed selfie of darkskinned guy around 20 years old, with long curly hair and wide smile. But the first thing that caught attention was his- Oh no.

"As you can see," Niji gloated, "they have the same nose!"

Ichiji slammed his forehead on the table.

The twin bang could be heard across the city, in an unkempt apartment (that on paper was shared by five people, which really downplayed how many actually passed by it).

"For the last time Usopp, your favourite barista is not Dengeki Blue just because the hair match!

[thewiz9062]

Smiling Critters AU: Familial Relationships & Friendship Status Headcanons

NOTE: THIS IS NOT RELATED TO CANON IN THE SLIGHTEST. An accurate description of this au is that I took every playtime.co poster art and promotional material from the game and lit up the rest of canon in a bonfire. That means EVERY character is part of one big cartoon. That's it. No bigger bodies project, no child souls, no experiments, just a depiction of a cartoon. PLEASE do not ask me to do anything suggestive with anyone.

OK I'm jumping straight under the cut, these are pretty long so be warned

Bubba's relationship with his parents is pretty good. The only reason I say "pretty" is because he feels like they "undermine his intelligence." In reality, he just wants to help them. In his younger years, he accessed the internet pretty easily and used context clues to figure out that with all the factors of an adult life, they weren't doing so well financially. But he saw a solution: a lot of people who have easy lives have a good education. So, he got to work, teaching himself anything and everything. He even (somewhat legally) got multiple jobs, ranging from tutoring to coding and other similar occupations. He hid these from his parents for a suprise. (This is when he was about 8, but my timeline is weird rn) anyways, he in total made a LOT more money than any child should have. Eventually, he told his parents and told them about his entire plan to help them. They exchanged a few words between each other and turned back to Bubba. They told him that they were very proud of him, but he shouldn't have to worry about things like that at his age. He understood because he knows that a lot of kids his age don't know a quarter of the stuff he does, but he also felt betrayed. As if they think he doesn't really know anything. In reality, they just want him to be able to live a life without their own issues, dragging him down. But they still are a happy family. There are just a few misunderstandings. Moving on, he still kept those jobs to the present day, meaning he's (for lack of a better term) loaded. In terms of the friend group, he is the one to give out life advice and such. He also funds their more expensive outings. If bobby is the "mom friend," Bubba is the "dad friend." Speaking of which, Bobby is his closest friend outside of Kickin. They both care for their friends and family, even though they do in different ways. He's still in good light with everyone else, though.

Kickin has fairly normal parents. They were a bit concerned with his behavior shift, but after meeting Bubba and his family, they were able to see him truly happy again. They care about him, like parents do. In regards to the friend group, Bubba and him are attached at the hip. If you were to invite one, you'd get the other. Package deal. This made and broke a lot of parties or outings with their peers, but with the critters they're both welcome anytime. Outside of Bubba, Hoppy is his closest friend, Dogday coming at a close second.

Hoppy's parents are her biggest inspiration. Athletes, just like she wants to be. They're pretty chill with each other, and they support her dreams. With the friend group, kickin is her best friend, but bobby is cool to her as well.

Crafty's parents are total assholes. I've gone over her parents before, but to give a brief summary, crafty wants to be an artist because she genuinely enjoys it, but her mother wants her to follow in her footsteps and be a model, simply because their rarity as unicorns. Her father knows, but doesn't care what she does either way. He's off defending people in court most of the time, and it was an arranged marriage anyway, just to keep the line going. (Not incredibly proud of this one, but it'll do). Whenever she wants to hang out with the friend group, she usually appears in far too expensive clothes for the activity, but Bobby's usually prepared and brings some clothing that Crafty feels comfortable in. She's closest to Dogday, him being the one to help her make friends in the first place and give her the motivation needed to be proud of her art.

Bobby's parental situation is bittersweet. She's the only critter with siblings, and regularly has to watch them because she has a working father, and her mother divorced him and didn't get custody. She is understanding and is more than happy to help, much to her father's regret, him having wanted her to have a normal childhood. (See why her and Bubba get along?) This led to her being essentially their mother. She wasn't exactly alone in this, as Picky Piggy was a huge help in some departments. Eventually, her father started earning enough to pay for a babysitter, allowing Bobby to be normal. But old habits are hard to shake. In the friend group, she is undeniably the mom friend. Other than picky (which she knew before joining the critters), Bubba is who she's closest to, for sharing the same goals: to help. Dogday makes ideas and plans, but bobby and Bubba make sure they go flawlessly.

Picky is also pretty normal. She has parents that support her culinary arts and had a few friends before joining the critters, including Bobby. Her knowing bobby immediately places her as Picky's closest friend, but she's fairly indiscriminate to everyone.

Another one I've gone over before: Catnap lost his parents at 4 (cause of bye-bye still pending and I honestly need help) and has lived on his own ever since. He's not COMPLETELY parentless, though, even though he'd never admit it. Although he never shows it like ever, he appreciates boxy boo just stopping by to check on him. In terms of friends, he's not actually an official member yet, but Dogday, Bobby, and Picky know him. Bubba and Kickin know of his existence because Dogday muttered his name when planning their sleepover but have yet to meet him. Dogday is his best friend, and wants to help him see that although it's great to be happy, he's still human (ik ik he isnt but yk what I mean) and is allowed to see things in a negative light sometimes.

Dogday was abandoned by his parents shortly after he was born, and was put in an orphanage and has lived there since. Just like catnap, however, he's not totally fatherless. One time, during one of the rare outings when one of their caretakers would take them to the local park dogday and wanted a balloon but didn't have a quarter to pay. Luckily for him, someone came and bought one for him. That someone was Huggy Wuggy. They became acquainted after Dogday thanked him, and anytime dogday visits the park, they sit on a bench and talk about things. (He also learned that Huggy gives the greatest hugs and now he won't leave without one everytime he has to go.) In terms of the friend group, he was the one that brought most of them together and along with being generally likeable he's in great standing with all of them. Though, hides the fact that he lives in an orphanage, thinking that they would treat him differently. When he met Catnap, however, they bonded over their lack of biological parents, and they became best friends. Dogday, even though he barely knows more than Catnap, wants to teach him how to make the best out of situations, even when times are bad.

------

Edit: tumblr try not to post my drafts challenge go- failed

[nyxvamps]

we know that all the demigods are on the neurodivergent spectrum but i think their godly parents are all also on that spectrum.

zeus stims with his bolt by tapping his nails against the edge or knocking it against his knee. he has accidentally zapped hera and others at least every other meeting. he also hyperfixates on how mortals can predict the weather. he secretly thinks it’s really neat.

poseidon has to have curtains over the windows in his meeting room because he will look up every 5 seconds whenever a fish swims by. he also picks at his nails and taps his feet when he’s thinking hard. he also can get random bursts of energy that stops him from sleeping every few nights before he collapses since he’ll use this time to get as much done as possible.

hades will pretend to listen when he has an audience in his throne room but is actually counting the souls within his robes for the 100th time. he also clicks his tongue whenever he’s thinking about something. eye contact is rather way to much or none at all. he has not figured out the right balance for that yet.

apollo vocally stims. what do you think all of his random poetry is? he’ll also hum the same 10 seconds of a song over and over for days on end. and he’ll shimmy in place when he stands still for too long. he also has some rsd (rejection sensitivity disorder, i think that’s the name) so when people make jokes about his poetry or music, he gets genuinely upset. he’ll pretend it’s all fine though.

athena actually has executive dysfunction and will sometimes have to literally force herself (with her godly powers) to accomplish the to-do list she made for the day. she also rehearses what she says to others before she has to speak with them. it’s easier to make sure she doesn’t make any mistakes.

hermes almost has something like the zoomies. he’ll take a few minutes and go run a few laps and stim (usually flapping his hands or stomping) before he needs to deliver his next package. he might take a second to jump up and down for a bit to get his energy out.

hephaestus created hyperfixation. whether it’s a new invention or a topic he heard one of his kids mention. he will not stop focusing on it for months if not years. since time works differently for gods anyways. he also can get very apathetic so he has to remind himself how to interact with others so he doesn’t offend them with a blunt comment or a lack of interest. (i’m not projecting at all)

aphrodite uses her makeup and hair as an excuse to stim. she’ll fix up her hair or makeup every for minutes for a reason to move her hands. she and ares have a deal where he’ll let her know if someone is being sarcastic because, unless she’s doing it or it’s very obvious, she can’t recognize it.

demeter genuinely likes plant life more than other people. (don’t blame her) it’s a little cliche that her special interest would be her domain but she genuinely loves to learn about plants. she’ll even look into the ways that mortals study and understand plants.

ares has major rsd (rejection sensitivity disorder). when he’s told to wait a second or if someone has to reschedule something, it really gets to him even though he logically knows that it doesn’t mean they hate him now (again, not projecting at all). this is a big reason for why he is so blunt and aggressive with others (in the pjo universe) bc the less people he’s close too, the less people can push him away. (i’m talking about his kids, specifically)

Mr. D likes to drink wine for the mouth feel. he likes how tart and sour wines make the inside of his mouth feel tight (projection). he also only has 2 demigod children (in canon) bc he doesn’t like the thought of having 3 because it’ll make the number uneven. and then with more kids, since he’s at camp, that’s more people he has to be emotionally available for.

this is just my opinion. i just think they’re neat.

[meggannn]

Do you happen to know any other games like transistor or Hades? sorry if it's so random but I got into them thru seeing them on your blog and have been looking for something along similar gameplay

if you haven't already, check out the rest of the Supergiant catalogue? they're also isometric action games, and although I haven't played them myself I hear good things:

Bastion—truthfully I tried this one and just couldn't get into it but it does look pretty and has good voice acting like all SG games

Pyre—honestly I've been meaning to play this for a while but I just haven't gotten around to it. it has middle child syndrome in that it gets looked over for its move hyped siblings but everything I've heard about it has been positive

I don't know if I can recommend anything with similar gameplay to Hades and Transistor, because I don't play a lot of roguelites and Transistor was so unique I'm struggling to think of a comparison. Supergiant has been really singular for me in combining storytelling with gameplay, the marriage of the two in Hades in particular I think was a masterclass akin to Portal (which I'd also recommend if you haven't played it). so a lot of these recommendations are just going to address parts of what I liked about Hades and Transistor, but not the whole package, really.

story-heavy RPG-light games with beautiful graphics with no combat:

Oxenfree—supernatural/coming-of-age story about a group of kids trapped on an island when a portal opens to another world

Night in the Woods—the story of Mae, a college dropout struggling with mental health, who moves back home to deal with friend and family problems... and something else that's in the woods

Afterparty—two friends die and get sent to hell. they hear the only way to escape is to challenge the devil to a drinking contest, so they travel the afterlife to do just that

Signs of the Sojourner—this is an interesting one where you travel to acquire goods to sell at your shop, but negotiating is difficult, and the cards in your deck will help you succeed in forging bonds in conversations. the more diverse cards you have, the more people you can interact with successfully, but you also risk losing the cards you started with, which will make your conversations back home difficult when you return to stock up.

action-heavy indie games, usually made me go "just one more map":

Apotheon—story set in a 2D Greek mythology world about a man challenged to take down the pantheon one god at a time

Into the Breach—the only other roguelite I've played, it's a turn-based strategy where you fight aliens on a grid system with robots, very Pacific Rim-esque

Cult of the Lamb—a roguelite about running your own cult full of animals. apparently it's big on the horror elements without being off-putting or too gory due to the cute graphics. I haven't played this but other people have recommended it!

Jade Order—a very short puzzle game with a neat map design

[doberbutts]

Hip anon here, I’m physically unable to get up the stairs at work to the break room. Which means I don’t have access to a fridge, freezer or microwave. All of my food has to be shelf stable. As a result, I haven’t been eating as healthy as I should. Do you have any suggestions for high protein snacks? I have no food allergies, sensitivities or aversions

As long as it doesn't fuck over someone else in your workplace:

Nut butters! Yummy, filled with protein, and fairly versitile as you can not only just use the butters themselves as a snack with crackers or sandwiches or fruits and veggies, but you can also cook and bake with them to make even more shelf-stable goodies. I recently made homemade nature valley bar knockoffs which are shelf stable up to a week (while covered or in a bag), packed full of protein and complex carbs.

Jerkies! My next Big Coking Project is for me to figure out how to make jerky. There's plenty of fantastic protein in meats, and it's usually shelf stable until you open it.

Nuts and seeds! Same deal, shelf stable and yummy. You can get pre-shelled ones if you need quick and easy access, or ones with shells in if you're looking ti save money (pre-shelled are usually more expensive).

There are certain types of mushrooms that are supposedly able to be processed in a way that renders them shelf-stable that are also full of protein. I am allergic to mushrooms so I don't know much more than that.

Recently I've been eating cold food I store in my bag with an ice pack- my grilled chicken salads for instance are intended to be eaten cold and it stays safe for consumption while stored in my bag until I'm ready to eat it. Certainly a possibility! I'm gunna try beef wraps next week using similar methods. I had Japanese spring rolls with chicken the week before this that were also intended to be eaten cold, though they went bad quickly in the fridge so you can't make too many at once. Onigiri is also capable of being eaten cold, and you can use whatever high protein filling you'd like. It's been pretty hot so I've been prioritizing foods that I don't need to generate more heat, that also can be eaten cold so they are more soothing.

Storebought salami isn't exactly shelf-stable; it's stable until you open it usually, at which point it needs to be refrigerated. Same idea though, either just make sure you finish the package OR store in the fridge at homeand only bring a small amount with you plus a cold pack in your bag. (my amish balogna *is* shelf stable, because it's made by the amish who don't do electricity and thus don't have the option to put stuff in the fridge)

There are canned meats available that, similarly, are shelf-stable until they are opened at which point they need to be finished or fridged.

[write-a-circle]

A pretty strange ask, but... can you write some soft yandere Russia headcanons, please? People mostly imagine him as a very cruel yan, but I think its not close to reality at all. He just wants someone to with him and I highly doubt that he would want to hurt his loved one.

Also, your writing is great! I enjoyed reading everything you wrote, awesome job!

soft yandere russia headcanons

content warning: unhealthy obssessive behaviour, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, violence and mentions of death

thank you for requesting! though this may not be to your expectations, as i'm not the best with yandere content :') also this turned out to be general yandere headcanons for him oops-

At first, you two were total strangers who only ever saw each other at international conferences and meetings. But you began helping him with small things, giving him the slightest well-meaning attention and he is enamored with you. This desperate need for love stemmed from the fact that everyone he’s ever had left him - his sisters, his fellow Soviet members. Russia is a lonely nation.

Stalking. It’s actually impressive how well he does this without being found out despite his big frame. Russia thinks this is actually an act of love.

Isn’t the type to actively spoil you, but will give you anything that he can afford. Once, he ripped out his own heart and hands it to you, fresh and bloodied. He also rips out his other body parts, though mainly organs, such as his liver, lungs and kidneys. Also nearly ripped his own left eye out to give it to you (was fortunately stopped). Russia thinks that it’s a show of devotion, to sacrifice one’s own flesh and blood for one’s partner. While it’s very sweet and all, you wish he didn’t take it so literally…

And you’re absolutely right about him never wanting to hurt his darling - after all, they’re the love of his life! Why would he ever want to make an angel cry? However, he will hurt others who get in the way.

People notice that Russia stops hovering over his “friends” (i.e. Lithuania, Czechia, Latvia), and they take pity on you - Russia’s latest victim. You don’t believe this, because in your eyes, Russia has been nothing but kind to you, and on some degree you felt like you have to take care of him because Russia’s such a poor soul, isolated from the rest of the world, for the world rejects him, and no one deserves to suffer like that. And yet it’s your own kindness that’s your undoing, as Russia only falls even harder every time you show him the tiniest touch of kindness.

Of course, Belarus, too, notices his sudden interest in you, and begins to get suspicious, as she knows that look in his eyes all too well. It’s the same one that she sees every time she looks into the mirror - of longing, of sickly, twisted passion for her beloved. But you? Her darling brother harboring feels for you out of all people?

Belarus seethes with rage, clutching all the hidden blades she has on her body. She is more than ready to slit your throat right then and there. Honestly, Belarus really doesn’t want to waste her time with someone like you, but obstacles were obstacles. Nothing personal.

You begin to notice the strange salty taste in your water. The feeling that you’re being watched at night. Eyes boring holes in your back in the shower. Your clothes going missing, then returned full of scratches, holes and dripping red. This is another downside to having Russia obsessed with you, because you get a 2-in-1 package. Not only you have to deal with one yandere, you get two after you for two very different reasons.

Russia finds out, and does not ignore her like he usually does, no, he yells at Belarus. His voice thunders through the room, and Belarus flinches, but she doesn’t falter. There are tears streaming down her eyes, as she screams at him. Why, why, why, why, why, why, why?

Russia tries his best to control himself, but before he knew it, his sister’s white, porcelain skin has turned into a violent shade of blue. He looks down. His hands were on Belarus’s throat, pinning her against the wall. She claws on his large hands, choking out his name in disbelief.

His heart stops. Russia lets go of his sister, and she crumples down like a rag doll. His mind races a hundred miles, but nothing registers in his mind, not even Belarus’s violent, hacking coughs as she tries to breathe just any bit of air at all in. The entire world seemed spun, and Russia closes the door behind himself - closing off his sister’s cries from the rest of the world.

At times, Russia doesn’t even notice his own behaviour - intimidating others, promising to do… things to them should they interfere with your relationship. You may notice Estonia giving you the cold shoulder after this, along with your close friends, who blabber half-hearted excuses to get away from you.

Hushed voices hang in the air, whispering about how Russia found himself a new toy to chew on and spit out later. Poor thing. They don’t deserve such misery, they don’t deserve to be with such a monster.

There have been several attempts to, ah, warn you of your current predicament. But you’re always left confused of what they were all about, as before the nation could say anything, Russia will always be there. Always. With his usual bright, angelic smile, pressing a soft kiss to your temple and then disappearing along with a nation to have a little talk. The nation never meets your eyes again.

It’s honestly laughable. You reach out to save him from loneliness, and now you were the one facing ostracization. But you don’t know that, do you? All you saw was everyone in your life leaving you - everyone but Russia, who stays and comforts you, just like how you’d come into his life with open arms.

You find yourself staying inside all the time, because what is there outside? Nothing. No one is there anymore. No one but Russia, who comes home every day, always with a welcoming smile for you no matter what he had to endure outside.

He wipes your tears away. It’s just the two of you against the world now. What’s that? A speck of red on his coat? Oh, he was being clumsy and cut himself earlier, there’s no need to worry about that. Just focus on breathing slowly now, you’ll be safe in his arms.

Safe forever.

Thunder boomed. Lightning flashed. Raindrops banged and crashed against the windows, but they were nowhere near as loud as the sound of your heart pounding noisily inside your chest as you tiptoed down the hallway, the gift well-hidden behind your back. Watering them before plucking seemed like a good idea at the time, but now the backside of your shirt was soaking wet.

Your eyes darted around. Just there on Earth was he? The carpet would be drenched if you couldn’t find him soon. Yet you let out a small giggle. The surprised look on his face when you show him would be glorious…

“Доброе утро⁽¹⁾, (Name).”

You shrieked and turned around to see none other than the light-haired man smiling at you sweetly. “Ivan! Good morning to you, too! The, um, weather today’s very… nice… isn’t it?” Forced laughter left your throat.

Russia giggled. “You do know that there is storm outside, да⁽²⁾?”

“I- yes, I do, I- well…” Cat’s out of the bag. No point in trying to hide it anymore. You showed him the flowers, fresh and teeming with life. The vibrant yellow did not fit the solemn atmosphere, where Victorian-esque walls loomed, suffocating you with the dark of the storm.

Russia’s smile faded. You could see the gears in his head turn as his eyes grew bigger and bigger. “Sunflowers,” he said. “My favourite.”

The bouquet shook in your hands. Your eyes trained on the ground. “I grew some for you,” you admitted. “Of course, that may be the reason why they look kind of sad compared to the ones at the flower shops- Actually, thinking back about it, I should’ve bought the sunflowers instead of growing them myself because while doing it yourself makes the gift feel more special, the recipient doesn’t always necessarily want your lousy handmade gift, so- Mmph!”

Russia practically lunged forward to swipe you into a hug. He didn’t seem to mind the flowers getting crushed. “It is the thought that counts, (Name). Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“I…” Warmth flooded your cheeks, and you buried your face into his touch. “Yeah. Thanks, Rus.”

Water from the flowers soaked into the fronts of your shirts, but you couldn’t care less. All that mattered was you being in Russia’s gentle arms. So warm and kind. If only you could stay this way forever…

“(Name)!”

Latvia’s voice echoed through the halls. You looked over to see the small man in the doorway, nearly stumbling over because of the enormous stack of papers in his hands.

“Could you come here for a moment? I need you to fill out these docume-” His eyes widened at the sight of your current situation. “Oh! Good morning, Mr. Russia, I see you’re kind of busy hugging (Name)- Wait, no, nevermind, I’ll leave you two alone!” He scrambled out of sight, papers flying everywhere in the halls.

You tried to move, but Russia’s grip on you suddenly tightened. “Russia…?” Your voice faltered. “The flowers are going to get crushed…”

“Stay with me,” he mumbled.

“But-”

“Please.”

“I’ll give you double the hugs when I finish,” you insisted.

His lips trembled on your neck. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

His embrace only got tighter, like a cage closing on around you, yet you still managed to wiggle out, even just by a bit. “Dip them in water, okay? I’ll be right back.” You gave him a small kiss on the cheek and ran after Latvia.

Russia stood with only your sunflowers to keep him company as he watched your form grow smaller and smaller until you were finally gone. He looked at the gift. Some were crushed beyond recognition, but others were completely fine. These flowers carried the color of joy, the color of warmth, the color of sunshine. The color of your love for him.

He pressed a kiss to the bouquet. Latvia was going to regret this later.

Translations:

⁽¹⁾Доброе утро: Good morning

⁽²⁾да: yes

Last edited: 4/12/2022

[yallemagne]

Queer.

Every so often, the same fucking post roles up on my dash. And since it's Pride Month? You know what it's about.

Now, I will be frank, any time I see someone crying "you can't use queer for yourself because I don't want to be called a slur!!!" I do roll my eyes, though that doesn't mean I don't understand the concept.

When I didn't even know who I was, I had plenty of terms thrown at me that didn't fit. People didn't know what to call me so usually they just called me gay. I didn't like being called gay because it wasn't who I was. Gay implied something about both my gender and my sexuality that wasn't true... but I didn't know the truth yet. I could hardly correct people.

Eventually, I figured out that my ambivalence to either gender didn't mean I was bi without a preference but that I was asexual. I explained this to people who would try to categorize me as gay, "No, actually, I'm asexual.", and I would then explain the concept of asexuality. This led to sexual harassment. Getting dressed in the locker room and being told what sexual positions people imagined me in and with whom. Being made to feel like I was the pervert in those situations.

And now saying I'm ace still gets a similar response just from what I hope is a more well-meaning crowd.

"Well, ace people can have sex/want to have sex. Are you sure you're not demi/greyace? You've never even tried sex, so you don't know." Congrats for vaguely understanding the concept of a spectrum. I personally use the dictionary definition of asexual, so I do not partake in sex nor desire to.

"Well, ace people can date/want to date. You have to say ace/aro or I'll just assume you're heteroromantic." No, because for me, unless explicitly stated otherwise, asexual and aromantic are a package deal. You wouldn't demand this same clarification from someone of any other sexuality.

It's a frustrating situation where even when I am clear and using a community-approved label for myself, I am still sexualized and pressured into seeking a relationship, and it puts me back into the mind of the kid who was bullied in the locker room. That doesn't mean that ace people on the opposite side of the spectrum or with different romantic attractions are my enemy. It just means we're different, and it's lovely that we're different, and the people who attempt to weaponize the speculative chance that an ace person might be down to fuck in order to pressure that person into sex are the real assholes.

I didn't know I was trans for the longest time because gender-nonconforming trans people were paraded around as freaks and the gender-conforming ones were just barely safe from scrutiny so long as they weren't associating with those people. But I eventually figured out that I'm genderqueer. I tend to say trans-masc nonbinary, but a more encompassing label might be genderqueer, and I drop the "gender" part and say queer because it embodies my gender identity and sexuality paired together, not separated into neat little boxes.

From my own queer perspective, the frustration with being told not to use the word queer is that we either have to pick from the four most recognizable labels (lesbian, gay, bi, and trans), dip into the bargain bin of obscure and often unaccepted labels, or make up something new. We're often told that we don't fit into the big four categories, that we are a disgrace to those. Obscure labels constantly have to be explained, and people turn their noses up upon hearing them. And making up a new label always has the risk of it being swept from under us and us being told by our more "acceptable" counterparts: "Your identity offends. Change it."

People saw my gender presentation and lack of interest in dating and picked words they already knew to describe me, and since those words didn't fit me, I felt even more isolated in a time when I needed support. I got my hair cut in middle school, and it was like I was finally moving in the right direction. My friend saw and the first thing she did was laugh at me, calling me a dyke. That does not give me the right to tell dykes "Hey! That word hurt me! You have to use the softer word "lesbian" instead." Besides, it wasn't the word, it was the intent of the person who threw it at me.

No one reclaiming the word queer is using it as a slur, but we are villified and told "That word hurt me! Use a softer word!" And I have to ask: is it really any one of you non-queer-identifying individuals' business? You see someone in the process of loving themselves and finding themselves in a diverse community, and you want to shatter that because you were hurt before? That's villain origin story shit. You want to poison the well because if people are allowed to call themselves queer more people will know the word queer and think it's okay to say and randos will think that you are queer and use queer to describe you when you're actually lesbian, gay, bi, trans, whatever label you prefer. But just because someone might misidentify you doesn't mean other identities need to be pushed back into the closet.

And of course, some are upset because people say Queer Community and it's called Queer History rather than being separated out into Gay History, Lesbian History, Bisexual History, Trans History--- but dude? You can still say LGBT or LGBTQ or LGBTQIA+ (though, if you hate the word queer, I guess you'd only accept the first acronym?) when referring to the community, and people will NEVER stop using the acronym. You aren't being run out by us scary queer people with our nasty labels, YOURS STILL EXIST AND YOU ARE STILL FREE TO LABEL YOURSELF AS YOU PLEASE. Does that mean no one will ever unknowingly group you in as queer when you're not comfortable with it? No. But... I'm sorry... but fucking suck it up.

You aren't queer? Okay, yeah, I accept that. I am queer. That doesn't make you a good person and me a bad person or vice versa.

[witchthewriter]

◌ 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐉𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 ◌

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

SFW:

> What a goddamn gentleman he is. I mean he definitely has rough patches when it comes to romance. But overall, he treats you like you deserve.

> You guys bonded over shared types of humour. At the start of your relationship, you were the only person who would laugh at his jokes in a group setting. Which did boost his ego, so that’s how he noticed you.

> you love his vibrant shirts, and are the one to encourage him to buy more:     Hopper and yourself stood in the middle of the aisle, you clutched a pink button-up. “How about this one?”   “Okay now I know you’re joking-” Hopper looked at you incredulously.

> Many homecooked meals; from both sides. A homemade meal is one of the things that send Hopper into a blissful state.

> He gives the warmest hugs you’ve ever experienced

> Wearing his shirts, and him not even wondering where they are. He knows they would’ve been taken by either you or El

> On the topic of El - they’re a package deal. If you didn’t get along with El, then the relationship just wouldn’t progress further

> I do think you & El would bond over topics like self-esteem, body-image, bullies etc,. you would be another adult that she trusted to talk to

> Hopper actually loves getting you pieces of jewellry, and believe it or not, he does have good taste

> Movie date NIGHTS, and then when El gets to know you better, they become family movie nights. Which Hopper loves because he has his two favourite people safe in his arms

> His love language is quality time and physical touch... yes he does like gift giving but only to you and El ... and he usually only gets the same/similar items because he’s too scared of getting the wrong thing

> Loves picking you up while kissing

> God ... god he’s like the MOST protective,, I know he let El fight but she has the powers for it. But like ... he was still a worried anxious man -- so he would DIE if anything happened to you. or go and reek the most vengance.

NSFW! 🔞 get outta here minors, go read an age-appropriate book (luv u)

> okie dokie I’m gonna come right out and say it- he’s a dom for sure, like a daddy dom. but in a somewhat experienced way, where you know you’ll be taken care of.

> the dynamic would most likely be you’re a brat but on the rare occasion, he does like to be dominated.

> handcuffs... car sex... oh god imagine this being one of the times he lets you be dominant...    You handcuff him and put him in the back of the car (of course it’s while he’s off duty but the illegality of it is kinda hot) Strip him of all his clothes and put on his sheriff’s outfit

> loves to eat you out, but also LOVES head... choking, spitting in your mouth and letting it slide down your chin.

> trying shower sex but it ends in laughter/disaster because he’s just so tall that the water is hitting him but you’re getting nothing.     He noticed the goosebumps on your skin and growled in your ear, “C’mon kid let’s go to bed.”

> he growls a lot actually. dirty talk, but i think you would have to initiate and voice that it’s something that you really like

> adventurous but not overly, as he does have a big reputation and is the literal hero of hawkins