#that sucks because this dude has horrible taste

[friedbreadwombat]

djs with actual good music taste should get paid more

[mediumgayitalian]

The best part of being his own camp counsellor is that he can wake up whenever the fuck he likes.

Nico’s a fan.

Because, however, his dumb ass made friends with the camp’s head medic, he doesn’t get to sleep in as often as he would like. He is instead often woken up before the clock strikes nine, which is a tragedy and one of the forty thousand reasons he is going to be present on Will’s judgement day. (The scales tip any which way on a regular basis, but as of last week, Will is going to hell. Unfortunate. Nico’ll still visit him, though. Bring him one half of a twizzler or something.) So when he wakes up, one lovely morning, mouth tasting like something rotted in it and sun well past halfway across the sky, he is capital-C Concerned.

What a horrible tragedy that is. Finally, for the first time in months, he was able to sleep in. And his first thought is not gratitude. Solace may indeed have to die — Nico was not this way before he started planting his annoying ass front and centre in Nico’s life. He’s quite fairly certain he used to be frightening and badass. Now Will orders him to drink milk for the sake of his calcium and he does. Gods.

“Morning,” he hedges, approaching the archery range, feeling marginally more alive than twenty minutes prior.

Kayla raises an amused eyebrow. “Dude, it’s, like, two.”

“Well fuck you, then.”

She smirks. “Aw, did baby not get his Sunshine fix of the day? Is that why he’s so grumpy?”

It really sucks that Will is so fond of his siblings. Nico wonders if Will would still like him if he knew how many times he daydreams of transporting Kayla onto the moon per day.

“As soon as I figure out which god would appreciate you as a sacrifice, you’re gone.”

“Yeah, right,” she snorts, turning away and lining up an arrow. She lets it fly, watching as it shaves a splinter off a hunk of wood fifty feet away. “You couldn’t get close enough to kick my ass before I’d skewer you, di Angelo.”

Remembering the warning arrow Kayla had shot through his shoulder last week, he wisely chooses not to press the matter any further. The power visibly goes to her head. Fuck.

“Just — tell me where Will is.”

“Why?” She strings another arrow. The grin on her face is a level of shit-eating that Nico has only before seen on a Stoll. She should spend less time around Julia, or else the camp is in for some serious trouble. “What are your intentions with my dear brother?”

Nico, on principle, refuses to answer that question. Kayla shrugs, finishing her shot and then turning around to stick her tongue out at him.

“No answer, no location! Find him yourself, loverboy. And remember that I am always watching.”

Stomping away, and ignoring the smile twitching at his lips — she is so annoying, truly, gods above he owes Bianca a thousand apologies for ever opening his mouth — he heads towards the infirmary. There are only six locations Will is at any given time, after all, except when he disappears for several hours randomly but Nico doesn’t know how to bring that up yet. As he approaches the infirmary, though, he hears it absolutely blasting with music, like genuinely shaking the ground a little bit, and knows exactly where to find him.

As he approaches the door, wincing at the door, he finds it closed. Odd — Will likes a breeze when he works. Even odder is the hastily-written sign pasted onto it:

ANNUAL CLEAN OUT DAY. IF YOU NEED ME, TOUGH SHIT. IF YOU NEED A BANDAID, TOUGH SHIT. IF YOU’RE BLEEDING OUT, CALL AN AMBULANCE AND PRAY. I AM BUSY.

(‘Busy’ is underlined three times.)

In smaller print, under the all-caps monstrosity, is:

Unless you’re Nico, in which case disregard the previous sentiment. No, Cecil, this does NOT mean you.

The note is written again in Ancient Greek, Latin, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Mandarin, Italian, Polish, Korean, Morse Code, and another ten languages Nico can’t even name. Actually, wait — the top left is Klingon. And middle right note does not appear to be language, showing instead a poorly drawn stick figure in armour being shoved into a cannon and shot into the sun by another poorly drawn stick figure in a lab coat. Nico loves a man who’s multi-talented, indeed.

Hesitantly, Nico cracks open the door. He is immediately assaulted by a solid wall of sound, and then nearly bowled over by the enigma himself, William ‘I Can Restructure A Human Brain But Cannot Tie My Shoelaces’ Solace. He catches himself at the last second, and then barely manages to catch Will, grabbing him around the waist just before his head hits the floor.

“Nico!” he shouts over the music, smiling brightly. “Hi! You’re here!”

“I’m here.” He can physically feel his voice cracking, but luckily the music drowns it out. Hopefully. “Uh, what’re you doing?”

“Cleaning!” Will straightens up, although he stays within the circle of Nico’s arms. Nico tries real hard to keep his gaze firmly planted on his face and not on the hands he still has in his hips. “I do it once a year, kick everybody out and deep clean the place. Helps keep it fresh and minimize the bloodstains on the floor.”

“Ah. And the music…”

“It’s fun!” Will shouts. He gasps when the CD player skips and a new song comes on, heavy base and funky synths blasting so hard the window panes shake. “Oh my gods! I love this one!” He turns his bright grin at Nico full force, absolutely no holdbacks on the dimples or freckles, gods help him, and bows cheekily. “Can I have this dance, good sir?”

“It’s Britney Spears’ Outrageous,” Nico protests weakly.

“Yeah!”

…Very, very weakly.

“…Okay.”

Will whoops, grabbing his hands and spinning him around. Nico yelps, nearly tripping over a cot, but when he looks back up Will has his eyes closed and is shimmying not unlike a worm on a fish hook, and it’s so ridiculous that he can’t help but laugh. Will pries one eye open, grinning widely, and shimmies harder.

“You’re such a dweeb!”

“Join me in the dweebiness! Free yourself!”

Nico rolls his eyes fondly, squeezing Will’s hand, and lets himself get ridiculous. He’ll deny it if anyone asks, but it’s fun.

…And not just because Will is next to him, smile brighter than any star, dancing like a massive dork, hand clasped in his.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Taste of You"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, cannibalism, kidnapping, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, dub-con

Summary: Just when he's given up on ever finding Mr. Right, Steve meets the - seemingly - perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

A.N.: It's not as murdery as it sounds 😅 But, as per usual: minors DNI. It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen"--or something like that

1. Specialty Ingredients

Steve watches, mouth literally hanging open, as it happens again: his date is stomping away, mad.

He just called Steve a scrawny, cock-teasing twink for making out a little on the sidewalk, but then declining to go back to his place to hook up. The guy pressed the issue and Steve got frustrated and told him tersely that he wasn't interested because they just met, okay? That went over like a lead balloon.

Steve scowls as the jerk disappears around the corner at the end of the block. “Well fuck you too,” he mutters, feeling put out—and okay, a little hurt, too. He’s not a cocktease. He’s not scrawny.

Well, maybe that second one is kind of true, but Steve hates how guys will act like they’re into his small stature when they think he’s a sure thing, but then get all derogatory and mean about it once he tries to tell them he’s looking for more than a hookup and wants to take it slow—and not even hetero people slow; gay guy slow, which is super fast in comparison! Steve just wants to get to know a guy for once before sleeping with him. Is that really so bad?

He huffs and turns around, walking dejectedly back to his car. Another handsome asshole, another hope dashed, another pathetic date. He really does have the worst luck, and he’s getting plain sick of it. He checks his phone before he drives away.

Clint: Well???

Steve sighs. He types back a reply to his friend

Steve: another dud

Clint: dude …

Steve rolls his eyes and chucks the phone onto the passenger seat. He turns the key in the ignition, the radio coming on to an old eighties love ballad that just worsens his sense of dejection. “Fucking figures,” he mutters, putting the car into drive.

He leaves the song playing though, because sometimes wallowing is called for.

The next morning, Steve wakes up in a glum mood. He tries to focus on his work for most of the day, rather than his horrible luck with dating, but as he paints the hours away he winds up pouting about it anyhow. He sinks further and further into a depressing pit of self-pity and despair.

Clint texts him, asking if he wants to go out and sing karaoke or something, and Steve knows he’s just trying to cheer him up and all, but he really can’t stand the thought of being cheerful right now.

Steve hates gay guys, he thinks, stomping over to the crappy small sink in his crappy small apartment’s kitchen. He runs the water and rinses off his brushes with a vengeance they don’t deserve. Gay guys suck. Steve hates how shallow they all are, how vapid and self-centered. All they want is to go clubbing and fuck around and that’s it. None of them want a real relationship, and they think Steve is boring for wanting to have a meaningful conversation instead of suck their dicks right away. He gets grumpier about it the more he thinks, and he even has the thought that at least if he were straight he could find someone with feelings, a desire for genuine connection. “Gay guys suck,” he mutters to his poor, abused paint brushes.

Nevermind that Steve himself is incontrovertibly homosexual and has no choice in the matter of what his dating pool consists of. After all: ‘Haters gonna hate, players gonna play’. “Gaays gonna gay, gay, gay, gay, gay.” Steve sings the tune under his breath. He just hates it, hates it all. He’s sick and tired of playing the game.

He sends Natalie a nastily self-deprecating text:

Steve: Know any of your girlfriends who might want to date a faggot?

It’s not nice, and he knows she won’t like him using that word in that context.

Natalie Potential Rich!! Buyer: another douche huh?

He sighs and texts back an apology with a huggy emoji.

Steve: Sorry 🤗 Just frustrated. All the good ones are taken and I’m not interested in the skanks who’re left over.

Natalie responds with the “Give that man a Snickers” Diva-meme, which makes Steve realize that he is, in fact, hungry. He needs to get something to eat. He needs to focus on himself for a change. Maybe it’s finally time to stop looking for Mr. Right and just enjoy Steve Rogers. Maybe he should join a gym, start a new hobby, anything to fill up his time with himself rather than another person. 

He goes into the kitchen, thinking that he’ll make something yummy and binge watch a new series off his Netflix list, but scowls at the barren interior that greets him when he opens the fridge door. Nothing good to eat. “Fuck,” he mutters. He’s got to go to the grocery store now before he can sit down with a meal and relax.

And it’s raining outside, too. Just his fucking luck.

His phone ‘pings’ and he looks over at where he’d set it on the counter. The screen is lit up with a new notification from Grindr:

Henry super liked you!

He picks up the phone and opens the app. Henry’s profile pic is only from the neck down, showing off his abs. Steve rolls his eyes. The next picture is his lower half, a pair of tighty-whities stretched over his erection making it lewd, but still within the app’s no dick pic rules. The third pic is of his bare ass in a jockstrap.

Steve spends a second more than he intends appreciating the guy’s backside, but then he growls and jabs his finger at the screen to reject the guy. He’s fucking fed up with this entire thing! On a sudden, right-feeling whim, he exits the app and holds his finger down on the screen until all the icons start wiggling with their little x’s. He quickly proceeds to delete Grindr, Scruff, and Hornet from his phone.

He’s fucking done with dating. He’s giving up. Steve is just not meant to find Mr. Right. Not this year, anyway. He feels lighter after deleting the apps, and he slides his unburdened phone into his pocket with a sense of accomplishment and a shiny new idea: He’s not going to date for a whole year. He’s going to make this The Year of Steve.

Fuck yeah.

He goes to the hall closet to grab his umbrella and rain boots.

The walk to FreshMart is only four blocks from his apartment, but he still arrives at the grocery store a little damp from the gusting rain. He shakes off his umbrella by the door, grabs a basket, and directs himself towards the produce aisle. He’s added fingerling potatoes and some asparagus spears to his basket, and has just started perusing the meat section when he hears a man’s voice say, 

“Hey, have you ever had this?”

Steve looks over. The guy is holding up a package of bloody red … something. Steve blinks. “Um …”

The stranger twists his lips and shakes his head, looking at the meat. “It’s venison. I thought I’d freak my sister out with something a little different.”

“Your sister?” Steve asks, feeling very odd at being asked his opinion in the middle of the meat department. He looks between the package of raw meat and the stranger—He’s unusually handsome, tall and strong-jawed, brown hair styled in an effortlessly flattering cut. Steve licks his lips nervously. “Um, isn’t that like, deer meat?” He takes a step closer to peer down at the label. “Huh.” He didn’t know regular grocery stores sold that kind of thing. “That’s … exotic,” he says, for lack of a better word.

The stranger chuckles. “Yeah, well. I actually don’t eat animals, so …” he shrugs. “But her and her husband and kids are total carnivores. Thought I’d bring something other than my usual bottle of wine.”

“Oh.” Steve peers up at the man, trying to figure him out. The man smiles sheepishly and Steve winds up smiling, charmed, if somewhat baffled. He looks the man in the eyes and is taken by how pretty they are, how intense. Damn he’s good looking. “Well I, ah, couldn’t tell you what it tastes like. I’ve never had it.” He makes a face. “Like I said, it’s exotic.”

“Oh I love to cook with exotic ingredients. I’m kind of an amateur cuisinier. Or at least I try to be.”

“Oh. Right.” Steve gestures to the blood package. “But you ah … you don’t cook only vegetarian stuff?”

The man grins (and shoot, he’s got an unfairly attractive smile, too). “I guess I just like to satisfy other people’s appetites,” he says, lips parted enticingly. And then his tongue darts out in this totally casual, should-be-illegal sort of way. “I take it you’re a meat eater,” he says knowingly.

Is that a double entendre? Steve thinks it might be a double entendre. Yes! he wants to scream. Yes! He is 1000% a meat eater. He gulps as the guy’s eyes flick down and back up his body in a heated onceover, and Steve may not always be the brightest bulb in the box, but he can tell when he’s being considered. Is this guy really flirting with him? Here? In the freaking grocery store? Is that even a real thing that happens, anymore? Steve flushes and pulls his shopping basket up higher in front of himself, like a shield. “I–I see,” he stammers. “Well … um … yeah.” God, he’s hopeless.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Venison’ll probably be … different.” He nods at the stranger, awkward and aware that the other man isn’t moving away. “Well. Good luck.” He turns and vacantly peruses the meats, pretending that he’s more invested in searching out the perfect porkchop than he really is. He hears the guy’s footsteps moving away.

“Fuck it,” the man says, and turns right back around. He takes a deep breath. “I like your boots.”

“What?”

The guy nods downwards. “Your rain boots. They’re really cute.”

Steve looks down at his feet. His rubber boots are pink and printed with the golden girls’ faces. He looks back up at the stranger, stunned. No straight guy on planet Earth would ever say such a thing. “Um. Thanks.”

The guy holds out his hand, friendly, like he’s not aware he’s acting weird as shit. “I’m James.”

Steve probably stares too long at the offered hand, before he hurries to shove the handles of his shopping basket up onto his one arm so that he can take the guy’s—James’—hand and shake it. It’s pleasantly large over his own hand. “Steve.”

James smiles. He’s arrestingly handsome when he doesn’t smile and Steve feels like an even weaker creature when he does. “Sorry,” James says, looking down shyly. “I uh, I don’t usually do this.”

“Do what?” Steve asks, keenly aware that he may just be about to be propositioned. He winces at the idea of having to turn down another good-looking jerk.

James tilts his head. “Would you …” He hesitates, eyes flicking up and over as a woman passes them. She turns and goes down the soda aisle. He looks back to Steve, distracted. “I was gonna be crazy and ask for your number,” he says, flushing. Steve doesn’t even get a chance to say anything before James is scrubbing his hand over his embarrassed face. “Fuck, I’m sorry. You’re probably not even—” He looks back to the soda aisle where the woman had gone. “Sorry,” he mumbles again, and starts to walk away. “Human disaster in the meat aisle. Just ignore me, please.”

“Wait!” Steve blurts. James turns back around. “Why do you want my number? Were you gonna ask me out? Like on a date?” He uses the word purposefully.

“Well, yeah.” James looks apologetic. “Sorry. I know it’s weird.”

It is weird. But Steve is kind of charmed by the guy’s odd methods. He promptly pushes away his resolution of The Year of Steve. “James,” he says, taking a step closer. “Um, you can. Have my number.” He peeks up at him shyly. “If you want.”

James' happy-surprised-enthused smile is the best one yet. They exchange numbers.

Clint: Wait, wat do you mean, the grocery store??

Steve: he came over and just started talking to me.

Clint: … that’s weird, man. That’s shady.

Steve: actually it was kind of cute. Kind of idk old fashioned.

Clint: Kind of weird. Whats his Insta?

Steve doesn’t hear from James for almost three days. He alternates between finding it refreshing, and being disappointed. Maybe Clint’s right. Maybe the guy was just a weirdo.

Then, on the third day, Steve is leaving from his morning shift at Michaels when he hears his phone ‘ping’ with a notification. When he sees the name “Weird Meat Guy” on the screen, his face splits in a grin.

Weird Meat Guy: Been thinking about you since the other day.

Happy butterflies come to life in Steve’s stomach at the flirtatious tone of the text. His first instinct is to force himself to ignore it for at least thirty minutes, so that he doesn’t seem overeager. But then he thinks, fuck it, just like James had said in the grocery store before turning right back around to ask him out.

Steve types a reply.

Steve: hey stranger. Yeah I was wondering how that venison worked out for you. 😂What’s it taste like?

Weird Meat Guy: I don’t eat animals, not even for my sister’s Sunday dinners. But she said it was fine. Not as good as regular old cow, though🐄🥩

Steve: not surprising.

There’s a bit of a pause where he can see James is typing and deleting and typing again. Then,

Weird Meat Guy: Do you want to go out tonight? We could grab drinks or something?

Steve bites his lip, bad memories of “casual” meetups and “just grabbing drinks” dates and what they’ve always led to, in the past.

Steve: let’s go out to eat. At a restaurant or something. A real date.

James texts back almost immediately, and his answer makes Steve beam like a fool.

Weird Meat Guy: Hell yeah. What’s your favorite kind of food?

Steve can’t help it; he has a good-verging-on-great feeling about this guy. He tries to tuck away his expectations that this time it’ll be different. He can still do The Year of Steve if or when this goes wrong. He’ll just try this one last time though. Just once more before he swears off being a “meat eater” for the year.

He tells James that he really likes Italian food, and the next thing he knows, James is sending him the link to a really nice and expensive Italian place in Brooklyn. Steve thrills at James' enthusiasm, and grimaces at the three dollar signs that Google has lined up beside the restaurant’s name.

He tells James okay, figures he’ll just tighten up his budget a bit for a few weeks after.

James meets him inside the restaurant, at the bar. He’s already got a drink in his hand. “It’s an old fashioned,” he tells him sheepishly. “Sorry to start without you.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“I just get a little nervous when I ask a cute guy out to dinner.”

Steve freezes, but then his mouth twitches. “Oh,” he says. “You, ah … you think I’m cute, huh?”

James grins and winks at him in a way that is devastating and should-not-be-allowed. “Yeah. I sure do.”

Steve is charmed.

The hostess seats them in a dark and cozy booth in the back of the restaurant. Steve settles in and looks around, impressed. “This is a really nice place,” he says, genuinely meaning it but also kind of anxious to open his menu and get a look at whatever prices garnered a $$$ on Google.

“Yeah it’s one of my favorites.” James is grinning at him from across the table. “I was so glad you picked Italian, cause then I knew I had the perfect place to bring you.”

Bring you. Steve looks down and tries not to smile too obviously at the words. “I like it so far,” he says, peeking up coyly at James so that he knows Steve doesn’t just mean the restaurant.

James seems to get it, if his expression is anything to go by.

They open their menus and Steve’s stomach drops at the forty dollar appetizers. Shit. He wishes he’d found a way to mention to James that he’s kind of a starving artist.

“Do you like mushrooms?” James asks, oblivious to Steve’s internal panic. He’s looking across the table at him with eager eyes. “They’ve got the best stuffed mushrooms I’ve ever had. I think they put crack in ‘em.”

Steve laughs despite himself, then decides ‘fuck it’ once again, and closes his menu with a nod. “Sure,” he says. “Let’s do it.” He’ll live frugally for a month if he has to.

James orders them the appetizer and an entire bottle of wine that he knows by its specific name and year. All Steve makes out is the “‘94 ” part of it, and his heart rate picks up. He’s about to really worry about how the hell much a place like this is going to charge for an entire bottle of wine that’s older than he is, but then when the server delivers it and pours for them, James shoots him a wink and tells him, “S’my treat.”

Oh. Steve’s heart flutters as much at the gentlemanly gesture as it does at the possibility that maybe James will pay for the whole meal. A guy can dream.

The mushrooms arrive and Steve gushes to James about how he was right: they are amazing. They get to talking, covering the standard ‘first date’ questions, and it’s stupid and awkward like it always is; but also it isn’t, because James seems to laugh about the awkwardness of it, too. And that makes it kind of fun.

James is thirty-seven to Steve’s twenty-seven (Daddy kink: activated). He has a place in Manhattan but his sister lives in Brooklyn, which is why he was shopping at the FreshMart in Steve’s neck of the woods the other day. He’s got one parent still living, grew up with a loving family but “pretty poor” in Jersey. He hasn’t been in a relationship or even been on a date in “a really long time.” He wants to travel more but he lets his work consume him too much. He doesn’t eat animals.

He’s also really good at making the whole first-date interrogation-phase go smoothly. It’s fun with him, Steve realizes, not awful and strained like it usually would be. Their conversation just seems to flow naturally and easily, both of them smiling almost continually as they chat and joke.

Steve is utterly charmed.

“Okay,” James says, as he pops another mushroom into his mouth and then talks around it. “I’ll do another boring one: what do you do for work?”

Steve gulps and delays answering by taking a sip of the wine—a red that downright tastes expensive. “Um, well my passion is my art. It’s what I went to school for.” He tucks his lips in and shrugs. “But, ya know, ‘starving artists,’ and all that. So I work part time at Michaels, too.”

James doesn’t look like he’s thinking that Steve’s a stereotype or a loser or anything like that. “That’s awesome!” he says, sounding like he genuinely means it. “What kind of art? Or like, what medium do you work with?”

Steve blinks. Nobody ever asks him good questions like this, like they actually care and want to dig deeper into who he really is. “Um, mostly acrylics. Some watercolors and pencil-charcoal sketching,” he says, flustering at the way that James pays such close attention to his answers. “I like to mix it up sometimes, but mostly it’s those three.” He shrugs. “I sell online. I have one really loyal patron—she keeps me afloat. S’nothing that special.”

“Sounds like you know your stuff,” James counters, not letting him insist on his own mediocrity. “If you went to school for it and all, then you must be pretty good. Don’t you have to, like, audition for art school?”

Steve blushes and looks away. “Well. Yeah.”

“And I bet you get all your supplies cheap with the side gig, huh?”

Steve stares at him. “Yeah,” he says, impressed. “Employee discount.”

James nods sagely, as if he’s ever had to worry in his life about the utility of an employee discount. He might’ve grown up poor, but he’s clearly well-off now. Steve can tell that the suit he’s wearing is a custom tailored deal, and the wine he’s ordered for the table has a bouquet of oak and dollar bills. “I think it’s really brave of you,” he’s telling Steve, looking like he admires him or something ridiculous like that. “That you’re following a passion like that? That you can just …” he makes a shaping gesture over the table with his hands, “make something with your own two hands and then sell it? That’s incredible.”

The more James talks, the more Steve gets his hopes up that he might actually be A Really Great Guy™️. Steve can hardly stand to take all the compliments, so he turns the question back around on James: “What about you? What do you do for work?”

James hesitates. “... I’m a surgeon.”

Steve’s eyes go wide and his mouth drops open, making him look like A Gold Digger™️, probably. He closes his mouth. “Oh. Wow, that’s … that’s neat. Medical school, then, huh?”

James smiles through a wince, as if being a freaking doctor is no big deal. “Yeah. It was rough for a few years, but I got through it. I’m in a good place now. It’s pretty smooth sailing.”

“So do you work at like a hospital or something?”

“Not exactly.” He stares at him for a long moment, then suddenly says, “Gosh, I’m just really attracted to you, Steve.” Steve blinks, taken-aback. He reaches for a hurried sip of his wine and tries to think of a response to the weird shift in conversation. “Sorry,” James hurries. “I just felt like I had to say it.” He gives Steve a tender look rather than a lecherous one, which is a welcome change from the usual script. “I think I might really like you.”

Steve flusters and averts his eyes to the tabletop, peeking back up at James a few times. The guy is totally focused on him. It’s intimidating, but not in a bad way. “Yeah,” Steve eventually manages to murmur. “Yeah I think you might be nice.”

James teases him about the ‘nice’, and they fall into easy banter again as they finish the mushrooms and open up their menus to choose their entrees. Steve’s once again fixated on the prices, and he immediately starts trying to see if there’s anything under sixty dollars …

“By the way,” James says casually, not looking up from where he’s reading his menu. “I know this place is fucking ridiculous: I got it covered.”

He says it all easy and nonchalant, like it’s no big deal that he’s treating Steve to what’s probably a three hundred dollar dinner, and Steve once again feels like he’s on a date with a hero, a real gentleman. “Kay,” he says smally, feeling delighted and hopeful as heck on the inside. 

He orders a seafood linguini, and James gets a spinach and cheese tortellini dish. “This is so good,” Steve practically moans around a mouthful of his food. 

James makes a noise of agreement, stuffing another tortellini shell in his mouth. “Mmph.”

“So you really don’t eat any meat?” Steve winds up asking. “Like, not even fish or chicken or anything?” Where does he get his protein? James looks like he keeps in good shape …

James chuckles. “Nope. Haven’t touched the stuff for … gosh, almost fifteen years.”

“Wow.” Steve spears up another shrimp from his pasta and wonders if it offends James. “So like, is it an ethical thing or just …”

“No, no. I just kind of had this epiphany one day—while I was tenderizing a thigh, mind you—that all the things I was eating were living creatures, that we’re animals just like they are.” He makes a thoughtful face as he considers it. “It’s not a moral viewpoint so much as it is a …” he trails off and his eyes return to Steve with an apologetic shrug. “I dunno. My viewpoint shifted that day. Couldn’t shift it back. I’ve tried so many other things now, animal meat just doesn’t taste the same anymore.”

“I can respect that.” Steve wiggles his fork that’s speared with a juicy scallop. “As long as you don’t mind this.” 

“No, no way. Don’t you remember where we met?”

Steve snickers. “Oh yeah, how could I forget. What was it you said? You like to ‘satisfy other people’s appetites’?” He chances a flirty look across the table. “Wasn’t that how you put it?”

James chews, smirking, and he winks at Steve again. Goddamn. “Yeah,” he says lowly. “Yeah. I sure do.”

On the sidewalk outside the restaurant they stand close together, bundled in their jackets. Neither one of them seems to want to leave. “Thanks again,” Steve says. “For dinner. It was really nice.”

“My pleasure.” James takes a step closer, so that they’re almost toe to toe. “I was so excited to go out with you,” he says. He brings a hand up and traces the side of Steve’s face with the backs of his fingers, not looking at Steve’s eyes but rather where he’s touching his cheek. “You’re different,” he murmurs. "And I knew it the moment I met you."

Wow, what a fucking intense thing to say. Steve … doesn’t hate it. “I am?” he whispers, watching his breath swirl on the air between their faces.

“Mmhm. I can tell.” 

Steve shivers and fights the urge to press into James’ touch on his cheek. It feels unduly intimate, and they’re already so close. “I was excited for tonight, too,” he confides. “I’ve had a lot of bad luck with dating. Was getting sick of trying, to be honest.”

“But?” James asks softly, and Steve looks up at him, for once feeling open and honest enough to just admit,

“But I didn’t meet you on some app. And you liked my stupid Golden Girls boots.” James chuckles and Steve looks up, taking in his face up close: the dimple in his chin, the creases of age that’ve barely begun to collect at the corners of his eyes, that one tiny patch of grey in his beard. It makes him all the more insufferably handsome. “And you’re charming,” he whispers. “So there’s that.”

James smiles softly. “Aw, shucks.”

“I think you’re a really nice guy, James. I’d like to see you again.”

James' smile widens hopefully. “Yeah?” he says, leaning even closer.

“Yeah. I think, well … I just think …”

“What?” James touches his face again, this time palming his cheek. “Tell me.”

“Oh, it’s nothin’.” Steve finally lets his eyes slip closed, enjoying the feeling of James’ hand on his skin, the cologne he gets a whiff of when they’re standing this close. “You smell nice.”

“Thank you. Still haven’t told me what you were gonna say.”

Steve smiles sadly. “Oh, I’m just getting my hopes up about you, is all.” He’s still got his eyes closed when James kisses him. He inhales sharply through his nose, surprised. But he doesn’t pull away, and they just … keep kissing.

Eventually James cups his face with both hands and Steve moans, because the way James is kissing him feels so natural and good. He feels like he can taste James' good intentions as they make out softly, right there on the sidewalk.

When they part they’re both panting a little, heavy-lidded eyes flicking over one another, gauging, desire tinged with uncertainty. “That was …” James breathes.

“Yeah,” Steve says, and they both stare at each other for another long moment, before Steve says, “Fuck it,” and surges in to grab James by his jacket and kiss him again, this time harder. James whimpers needily into his mouth, and heat shoots through Steve’s belly at hearing it, arousal flaring to life faster than he can handle. Suddenly his pants feel a little tight, and he wants James so badly he can hardly stand it. “Oh man,” he groans, pulling away from the kiss, grimacing at himself for what he’s about to say. “I really, really never do this,” he promises against James' lips. “But … Do you want to go back to my place?”

James' eyes widen. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Fuck. Yeah, okay.”

They kiss eagerly one more time and then hurry off, giddy, hands clasped, and headed in the direction where James says he’s parked his car.

Masterlist

🍵Consider tipping your friendly neighborhood starving artist smut author!

✍🏻Commissions: reach out via Tumblr DM or contact here

[grimweathers]

the last post i reblogged made me think of something i’ve been stewing on lately (just personal irl stuff, not like. big philosophical stuff. basically a livejournal-esque post lol)

this is getting long but i want to get it off my chest so i’m gonna put it under a read more lol. might delete later anyway. also using fake names because i was starting to confuse myself with all the "this friend and her other friend and her other OTHER friend" lmao

disclaimer that stacy is a good friend, she’s a cishet ~ally~ etc etc, but i think (subconsciously?) she thinks gay relationships are worse than straight relationships in regards to Drama™️, and therefore worse in general, and it comes through in the way she talks about it. and it’s been bothering me a lot lately. (the word “drama” makes it sound flippant, but i mean like. all types of relationship issues of varying degrees of severity)

our mutual friend diane recently came out as bi and has been talking about trying to date women. and stacy sometimes tries to discourage diane from trying to date women at all, specifically because stacy's lesbian friends' relationship drama.

which is… weird and confusing to me, because like. cishet relationships are NOT free from drama at all?? obviously?? how many cishet men do we all know that treat their girlfriends/wives terribly? diane specifically has had a lot of horrible ex boyfriends! (as an aside she has like. THEE worst taste in men tbh. like they suck AND they're ugly. i can only hope the women she will someday maybe date are nicer.)

i think all types of people make messy choices in their quests for sex and romance..... no group's immune! or better at it than another group! idk. it feels (unintentionally) homophobic, but i also feel like… there’s an underlying assumption that dating/marrying a terrible manchild is just par for the course for straight cis women. and that’s depressing. (i also think stacy has a bit of a blind spot, because her longtime boyfriend is nice and thoughtful and not terrible).

literally later in the same conversation, stacy was talking about allison, who had rushed into marriage last year with a dude she had already been having relationship troubles with. obviously marriage did not solve this. but somehow she has wayyyyy more empathy for allison because well you don’t understand, allison has been dreaming of getting married her whole life 🥺 okay! that doesn't change the fact that her husband sucks to the point that she randomly started crying at a party he wasn't even at! and rushing into marriage with shitty dudes has happened to more than one of our mutual straight friends btw. she has all the tea on all their relationships and yet she has consistently shown more sympathy for the straight ones than the gay ones, and has consistently been like "ugh gay drama is just so crazy!" (i know the specific details of the gay drama too and i don't think they're really any worse in comparison lol. just run of the mill messy cheating and getting back with exes etc).

idk man. i probably should've said something earlier because it obviously ended up bothering me so much, but this last conversation was like 3 months ago and i feel weird bringing it up now out of the blue. maybe if it comes up again.

anyway The End. lmao @ this livejournal-esque post!!!

[proudproship]

Okay time to dump fandom drama into your inbox!! >w<

So basically about two months ago this game called Fr*day n*ght funk*n (censored so this doesn't end up in the main tag) was hinted to receive some sort of big update (the last update was nearly 3 years ago). One of the creators decided to be a dumbass and joke about the Palestinian genocide that's been going on right? Not too good.

This one big brained anti decides that they want this man "cancelled" and instead of maybe bringing attention to the fact his joke wasn't cool what did they do? That's right!! They went through his **public** Newgrounds and Twitter likes and "exposed" him for liking loli!! Multiple drawings they cited as proof were NSFW drawings of Hatsune fucking Miku, the character whose age changes depending on the story she's in. This galaxy brained anti actively encouraged people to harass him and the other devs and demanded he be taken off of the dev team.

Here's where the antis really show off their thinking skills. Remember how I said this all started because of a joke about genocide? Yeah literally no one even brought it up in the countless callout posts and if they did it was like a two second afterthought. They were more mad this dude wanted to fuck Miku.

The real kicker here is that this is not even the first time this guy has been shit on for liking loli. Oldsters like me remember back in 2020 when the game first came out and it was on everyone's DNI because again, loli enjoying dev.

Of course now all of the devs are radio fucking silent with no update in sight. Joy.

Crazy how antis not only were more mad about fictional characters (again like fucking Hatsune Miku) but also actively destroyed progress on a game they enjoyed.

Yeah, I heard about this in a Rev Says Desu video lol...

I didn't know that beginning part, though. Thanks for updating me on that /g

And, I'd agree that joke was in horrible taste, but I don't think it makes him deserve to be the target of harassment and possibly even attempted murder (as in encouraging su*cide)...

Antis are insane actually, and freak out at the smallest things. Oh no, a fictional character's feet, how horrible!!! 😨😨😨 Totally worse than making light of a serious issue... /s

I wish people would be normal about the situation and instead try to communicate how that joke shouldn't have been made public, and how it could be offensive, rather than whatever this is.

Funny thing actually, this drama was what got me to start playing that game.

Honestly hope that dude is doing good now, and hopefully sees how that joke could be seen really wrong.

Definitely a joke in bad taste, but I don't think he deserved threats from toddlers on Twitter lol...

And this is bad for fans, too. Imagine how many die-hard fans were disappointed that the update was delayed, or may never even happen.

That sucks man.

[zeltqz]

HARD TO GET [20]

ran haitani has a reputation to uphold. yet it all comes crumbling down when his newest target has no interest in playing his little game. he’s now determined to add your heart to his collection — he is down to do anything.

pairings: ran haitani x f!reader

word count: 4.7k

notes: P.S this is the final chapter by the way. it's also the so called happy ending.

series masterlist

7 YEARS LATER

"Stressful day?" The bartender asks the moment she sees you slip through those doors. You nod and take a seat in front of her, watching her do her job. This is your favourite club to go to. It's near your house and the workers are so friendly. Emi recommended it to you when she started working here 2 years ago. She left the job though because she got hired somewhere else in a corporation.

You still attend here though, whenever you're feeling sad, mad, stressed or just bored.

"I got fired." You sigh. "It's so stupid. Guess why?"

"Why?" She asks as she mixes your drink together. You didn't even have to give her your order. She knew it off by heart, it was pratically muscle memory already.

"My boss— well ex boss, told me that I didn't live up to the company's expectations. Which is total bullshit. He’s just mad that I didn’t want to sleep with him.”

"Well, you should've let him hit." She laughs and hands you your drink.

"No. Ew." You grab a straw and stuff it inside your drink and begin taking small sips from it. Not wanting to get too drunk so fast.

"Are you still hung up over that dude, from college. You told me about him, few months back but I forgot his name. Beings with an R...."

"No." You say quickly. It's true, you're not. You moved on. Ran was a douche, his friends were also douches. You knew better than to fall for his tricks again. "I don't care about that pig."

"Ran! That was his name." She begins laughing and you scowl at her. "Okay, stop staring at me like that. I just have 1 question."

"If it's about him then no."

"It's not."

You take a moment then allow her to proceed with her question. "When was the last hookup you had?" You choke on your drink, lips pulling the straw from your mouth as you start coughing.

"What sort of question is that?"

She shrugs. "Just wanna test something."

Once you're done with your coughing fit, you take a moment to actually remember the last time you had sex. It's been a while. "I... can't remember."

"So you are still hung up on him!" She cheers and you shake your head.

"No! I am not. I just have better things to do." You say half heartedly. The real reason was because..... it felt horrible. You had around maybe 3-4 hookups over the last 5 years and each one felt bad.

When you consulted in Kaash for advice, she told you that men just sucked at sex and only fucked for their own benefit. Which wasn't a total lie. But then over time, as the sex got progressively worse, you assumed that you were the problem.

So you just stopped having it overall. It had been a couple years since you actually had sex after your realisation, but you weren't even complaining.

"Better things to do like what? You're currently jobless. You should just find some rich dude and use him for his money." She insists and first you think it through, then realise that will never happen to you.

"This isn't a movie. C'mon."

She shrugs. "Well, I'm saying there's a few good looking people in this club. You should find one."

You turn around, eyeing the men inside the club. There was some good looking people. Some looked a bit too old for your taste, some looked too young for your tastes. Some looked perfect, but they already had women by their side.

You shake your head and turn back to your drink. "I'll go home lonely tonight. It's fine."

She pouts at your words, only wanting the best for you. But decides to drop it anyway. She turns around to grab some wipes and wipe the surface down. The club doors open and a group of men walk inside. You don't look, but you can hear the bunch of women screaming for the nameless men.

You roll your eyes and place your elbow on the table, chin in palm as you twirl your straw around in your drink. You were so bored. You didn't feel like going home either.

The screams are getting even louder and it's starting to irritate you. Even though you're half way across the club from the entrance, you can see a group 6 men and a crowd of women surrounding them. You can't see them well but you just shrug it off, turning back to your drink ready to ignore.

The bartender looks over at the door, smiling to herself. "Oh, they're back tonight."

You look up from your drink. "Who is?"

"Those men. I don't know them personally but I they come in like once every few weeks. You see the pink haired guy?" She leans in closer to your ear as she points at the dude. You can't see his face because his back is towards you, all you can see is pink hair. Your mind flashes back to college, Haruchiyo's face pops up in your head. Not since then have you ever met someone with pink hair just roaming around.

"The pink dude comes in and orders like 4 strippers at once. It's crazy. He has his own section over there." You follow her finger as she points upstairs, the third floor. People like you were only allowed on the first floor, because it's what you could afford.

If you had connections, or it was your birthday, they allowed you to use the second floor, which was more spacious. The third floor, you heard was only for super important people. That or they were just rich enough to use it.

"Wow. Third floor? Must be loaded." You say, eyes trailing back to the pink haired.

"Yeah, I know right? He mistaken me for a stripper like 2 times. It was embarassing but he paid me for it. He's oddly sweet."

"Huh." Your gaze travels to the rest of the group. They all look rich and expensive. From what you can see of them at least. Their backs were still facing you.

"One of them is coming here, I'll be right back." She says and heads over to the other end of the counter. "Sir, I'll send a waitress over to the third floor for you."

The man nods his head and turns around. The two of you make vague eye contact before you quickly look away, back to your straw. From what you could see from the 0.01 second eye contact, the man was hot. He had short purple hair with black streaks and a few black peircings in his ear.

You try to focus on sipping your drink, but fail when you can feel his gaze on you. How long is this guy going to stare at me.... You think, feeling very awkward as if your every move is being examined thoroughly.

The stool next to you gets pulled open, the loud scrape from the floor makes your skin itch. He plops himself down next to you, chin in his palm as he examines your face.

You blink a couple seconds, then pull the straw from your lips. "Can I help you, Sir?"

"You look... familiar. It's weird." He says, voice deep and low as his eyes narrow while scanning your face.

"I have never seen you before in my life." You say, not even lying. You genuinely have no clue who this gentleman is. And he's apparently loaded since he's allowed in the 3rd floor. You've never met any rich people before in your life so.

The second Ran made eye contact with you, something inside him told him to approach you. He's not even sure himself, but he always listens to that voice inside him. Just as soon as he was about to get up and leave you alone, the bartender calls out your name.

"Y/N, I'm back, sorry to keep you waiting."

"It's alright." You face away from the rich man and back to her, giving her a sincere smile.

Ran's eyes widened. But he didn't show it of course. He was a master at hiding his emotions. He hasn't seen you in a good 7 years before he dropped out of school mid year along with Rindou and Sanzu.

What on earth were you doing in a club? It blows his mind. The Y/N from years ago wouldn't even step foot in a place like this unless your friends forced you too. Ran looks around, but there's no sign of your friends anywhere. So, you willingly came here? He thinks.

"Oh, Sir. You're allowed on the third floor now. It's open." The bartender said to Ran. You turned back to face him, remembering he was still there. Ran makes eye contact with you, smiling at the way your eyes dart around to look anywhere but in his eyes. You were still the same old cute Y/N from years ago deep down.

"Alright." Ran says, not standing up from the chair though. You look at him confused. You were the only person sitting here aside from him. Was he here for you?

"She said your floor was ready." You repeat, just in case he missed her words.

"I'm aware. I want to stay here. Get to know you." Ran shifts closer and you blink for a couple seconds.

"Okay... what do you want to know?"

"How old are you?" 25. Ran thinks.

"I'm 25. You?"

I knew it. He's smirking to himself. You seriously can't tell who he is? Is it the hair? He thinks he sounds the exact same, sure his looks has changed a bit, but so has yours, yet he was able to deduce you so quickly. Either you were just stupid or the alcohol you were having was getting to you.

"26."

You nod. "Cool." Then take another sip of your straw. This is so awkward you think. You still suck at making conversation, despite all these years.

"You single?" He asks, testing the waters.

You eye him skepitcally, "What's it to you?" You have no clue what this mans intentions are, but it can't be good. Because one, he's hot. Probably full of himself. Two, he's rich. Probably looking for a sugar baby or something. Your mind fills with all these dramatic conclusions.

"Cause you're too pretty to be sitting here alone. You get stood up or what?"

You look back at your glass, for some reason, you just can't maintain eye contact with this guy. Shaking your head as a response. "No, I didn't get stood up. I am single."

Good. Ran watches as you finish your drink, hands rubbing against your eyes, then checking your watch. "Are you leaving?" Ran asks, placing a hand on your wrist to stop you from going.

"Yeah, it's like 11."

"So?" Ran gestures for the bartender to make you another drink but you shake your head.

"No. It's fine. I don't want to drink anymore. I have to drive home."

"Then water." Ran suggests and when he sees the undecided look on your face, he gently pushes you back down to your seat. "Please? I want to get to know you."

You raise your brow, then finally cave in. "You're paying though."

"It's water." Ran laughs, "of course I'll pay."

"So you just wanted to flex on me?" You say, hand grabbing the water that was placed down in front of you.

"There's a lot I want to do on you."

You inhale sharply, watching how his eyes travel up and down your body, then back to your face as if he wasn't shamelessly checking you out in public. It's been so long since you did anything explicit with anybody, that your body immediately reacted to his words. Thighs rubbing together to try and reduce the ache in your legs.

Ran noticed and places his big hand on the skin of your thigh. You stop your movements, looking down at the hand on your thigh. "Sir?-"

"Hm?" Ran tilts his head, fingers sliding down, spreading your thighs apart. "What's wrong doll?"

You make eye contact with the bartender who winks at you and then tilts her head over to the bathroom. You knew what she's insinuating. Fuck it. You'll never see this man again in your life.

You slide off your stool and walk over between his legs, placing your hands on his shoulders. Ran's eyes go wide for a second, not expecting you to be the one to initiate anything. "Do you want to go somewhere to be alone?" You ask, pressing your thumbs into his shirt, rubbing circles as you stare into his eyes.

"Fuck, yeah. Let's go." Ran says, standing up tall. Your hands drop from his shoulders and admire how tall he actually is. His hands slip into yours and squeezes lightly to snap you out of your momentarily gaze.

You follow him up the stairs leading to the third floor, then into one of the bathrooms. The moment you get inside, Ran pushes you agaisnt the sink, hands trailing down your skin. "H-hurry up." You say, wanting to get over this fast. It's not like sex felt good for you anyway.

"I want to take my time." Ran says, lifting your dress up and over, exposing your bare ass. Ran grips it with his hand, squeezing the flesh hard enough to make you wince.

"I don't have all day." You say, trying to sound a bit annoyed but your voice comes out whiny as you make eye contact in the bathroom mirror. Ran grip on your hip tightens and he leans forward, his chest touching your back and his erection rubbing hard against your ass.

"You don't have all day? You got someone waiting for you?" He asks, voice hot in your ear making you flinch a little bit. Ran's grip tightens even more, enough to leave red marks on your skin as he waits for you to answer the question.

You shake your head, looking straight down, not able to look up and make eye contact with this man. Why was it so hard? You wince when he grabs a bundle of your hair, pulling your head back so he can see your face fully. "Use your words."

"No, I don't have anyone waiting for me." You say softly, staring into his purple eyes. That should have been the dead giveaway for you. Sober you would have instantly recogonised him just from the eyes alone. It's not everyday you meet someone with eyes like his. But sadly, sober you was long gone and would return hours later. You just knew you found his man smoking hot, and your body needed him.

Ran leans down and kisses your forehead. An oddly sweet gesture for a simple hookup, you think. But don't decline it either way. He places his hand on your back and bends you over the sink, hooking a finger underneath your panties and pulling down. You watch from the mirror as he starts to unzip his pants and pulls his cock out.

You can barely see it at first, because of the angle you're bent over at. But the second he starts to push inside you, you can feel every inch of him. Making you cry out and grab onto the edge of the sink for some sort of leverage. It was slippery, but you managed to grip tight enough. "Oh-oh my god." You moan out when he places both of your hands on your hips, holding you in place as he begins to thrust inside you.

"F-fuck you're still so tight." Ran moans slightly, sweat already forming on his forehead as he fucks you. Once again, his words should have been the dead give away for you, but you're not focusing on anything he's saying. In fact, it's hard to focus on anything with his size splitting you open.

You're mumbling something as your body gets pushed forward with every thrust he's giving you. Your teeth closing in on your bottom lip as he drags you by the hair, pulling you up to his chest. Your walls clench around him seeing the sight of the two of your in the mirror. Ran dips his head down to your neck, littering your skin with kisses and bites to prove he's yours even after all this time.

He knows he has no right. None whatsoever. He's the one that stopped talking to you. He's the one that left out of nowhere, leaving you with no explanation. But he just can't help himself. He's going to make it up to you. But he had to get a feel of you first. "How's that feel? Hm?" He whispers in your ear, fingers slipping between your legs and rubs your clit with his index and middle finger. "Ever been fucked this good before?"

You shake your head, "No, ne-never." It wasn't a lie either. Probably the first time in years where a man actually considered your pleasure as well as his own. Your mind does flashback to your first time with the man that shall not be named. But you didn't want to bring that up right now -- feeling it's not really appropriate.

Ran stills for a moment to pull out. A noise is disapproval slips from your lips as he pulls out. The next thing you know, you're being spun around to face the beautiful man. His hands slip beneath your ass and lifts you up onto the sink.

You raise your brow at the new position, watching him grab just above your ankle and spread your left leg further away from your right. You have to place your hands behind you for balance. Ran holds the base of his cock before re-inserting himself inside you.

Balancing yourself on one hand this time, you use the other to pull him closer by his shoulders. His hips snapped into yours, leaving absolutely 0 space between the two of you. The position had him filling deeper inside you, noises you didn't even know you could make escaped you as he pressed his forehead against yours, looking down to where the two of you are connected. "Shit." He cusses when he feels your nails dig past the fabric of his shirt and into his skin, leaving cresent shaped marks as you felt your orgasm approaching.

"Oh, my god-- sh-shit fuck fuck, yes, please don't stop, I'm so close. Please, please please-" You begged and begged and begged, chanting please as you felt yourself reaching your limit. One more brutal snap of his hips hit directly against your spot, causing you to lose balance. The hand that was holding you up instantly flew to the man's neck, pulling yourself up now using his upper body for balance.

Your hips twitched and convulsed, body feeling as if you had just gotten several electric shocks as you creamed on his length, whispering curse words into his ear as you rode out your orgasm. "Fuck." The man breathes out against the skin of your neck, feeling your walls milk his cock, he cums inside you. His teeth sinking into your skin as he bucks his hips a couple times, just to make sure his cum is deep inside of you.

Your fingers start to play with the strands of his hair near the back of his head as he recovers from his own orgasm. The feeling of his cum soaking your walls made your heart flutter for some odd reason. Then coming to realisation that this is a stranger. A complete and total stranger.

When the so-called stranger finally does pull away, his cock had already softened inside you. He tucks himself back into his pants all the while making eye contact with you. Your eyes are droopy and there's sweat formed on your forehead. "Come here." Ran says, tugging your legs down from the sink top so he could stand between them. He presses a series of kisses on your lips before gripping onto your cheeks, squishing them in his hands. "Still so cute."

You're too exhausted to push him away, so you just allow him to fondle your face. Hands raising weakly to push him away, but fail when he grabs onto both of your wrists and places them back down to your lap.

"How was it?" Ran asks after a short moment. He already knows your answer, but in order for his ego to reach his peak -- the words have to come out of your mouth.

"Amazing." Your hand wipes away the line of sweat from your forehead.

"Are you drunk?" He asks, geniunely wondering if you're not in the right state of mind to recognise who he is, or if you know but you just don't care. Or if you're just stupid and can't recognise him.

You shake your head. "No, but I am sleepy."

Ran nods his head. So you're stupid. "You don't remember me. Y/N."

The way he says your name makes you blink for a moment, the sleep taking over until-- wait, he just said your name. You look up at him, any signs of sleep now long gone as you stare into his eyes. Those fucking eyes. It hits you now.

"Ran?"

He simply laughs, head dropping down as the realisation hits you so fucking late. "Took you long enough."

"Wh-what-wh- how?" You stammer on your words. So many questions forming in your mind, but yet you can't form a simple sentence.

"I was shocked at first, cause the Y/N I know doesn't go partying for one. And she would never hook up with a random dude she just met." Ran's hands find themselves on your hips, keeping you locked on the sink before you could run off. Not like you could anyways with that ache between your legs.

"I don't hook up with random guys." You admit, then wondering why the fuck you just hooked up with Ran before even knowing he was Ran.

"Your body couldn't resist me." That fuckin' grin is back on his face. One that has your blood boiling. "It's okay though," he leans down to your ear, "I couldn't resist you too." He admits then places kisses along your earlobe, making your body shudder. The kisses then travel downwards to your jawline, his lips passionately making out with your skin.

You want to yank him off. Scream at him for everything he did to you. This is the man that just took your v-card, then leaves with no explaination. You should be mad. But you find yourself closing your eyes, lips parted as he marks you. Fingers tugging at his hair to bring him even closer to you.

It's not him. You think. It's the way he makes you feel.

If that's what helps you sleep at night.

"Ran- stop." You finally say the words and he turns his head to look at you. His eyes scanning your face for any sort of discomfort. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"Says who?" Ran has his nose against yours, tilting his head to the side so he could slot his lips right against yours. But before he could, you raise your hand, using it as a barrier between the both of you.

"You really hurt me Ran." Your voice cracks and you immediately look down, not wanting him to see you cry. You thought you had gotten over him. You had well convinced yourself you had. But him right now, giving you the same attention and kisses he did back then, it's like all those memories came flooding back. And it was too much for you to handle.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I really am." Ran says, lifting your hand up to his lips, pressing kisses along your skin to soothe you. It works, but not enough for you to forgive him. "I-- I was stupid back then. Still am now, but--" Ran pauses, not sure how to explain his dumb actions. "I wasn't using you. The feelings I felt.. they were real. Too real. And I just got scared. I don't like being attached to people that aren't family. I didn't want to lose you, so I pushed you away before you could push me away. It's selfish I know. But-"

You look up when you see him lace your fingers together with his own. His large, longer fingers wrapping around your smaller ones. "I'll do anything to make it up to you. Anything Y/N. I mean it."

"I'll think about it." You say. You think it's the perfect answer. It's not a solid yes I forgive you. But it's not a solid no I hate you. Truth to be told, you didn't know what you felt right now. You had every right to hate him and be angry at him. Yet you just couldn't hate him.

Yes you were still angry. But hate? You couldn't. Ever.

Ran pulls his phone out from his pocket, and you watch him unlock it. You can't tell what he's doing exactly, but from the reflection in his eyes, he's swiping to what seems like messages.

He hands the phone to you, and the phone is on a fresh contact. "I didn't know if you switched your number. Please?" You assume he's asking you to please put your number in.

You look up, seeing all signs of playfulness wiped clean from his face. He was being 100% serious now. You hold his phone in your hand and start to input your number. Ran smiles as he sees you co-operating and not screaming at him to leave your life again. This is showing him that you're willing to restart. He knows it will take time, but he doesn't care. He wants to make up the 7 years.

He's going to make up for those 7 years.

You swipe from the contacts, heading to messages to send yourself a text. But you also use this oppurtunity to look at his recent messages. For no reason. Just nosiness. You think. Definetly not because you want to check he hasn't been texting other girls.

Ran can see what you're doing, but stays silent to allow you the satisfication of thinking you're slick with your actions. After a while of scrolling, a slight giggle leaves his mouth. "There's no other girls Y/N."

You swipe off of messages app and close his phone. "I don't know what you're talking about." You play dumb, already embarassed that he caught you trying to be nosy.

"Yeah? So you weren't just looking through my phone just now?" Ran asks, gently taking his phone back and placing it back into his pocket. You shake your head, then slide off the sink. Knees wobbling almost immediately but you catch yourself before you could further embarrass yourself.

You start to redress yourself in the mirror. Adjusting your dress from it's hiked position back to normal. Leaning in closer to the mirror to examine all the marks he left on your skin. Ran wraps his arms around your sides, bending down so he could rest his chin on your shoulder. "Let me take you out. On a date. Wherever you want. As long as it's not a library or something."

"Hey! I'm not some geek." You frown and Ran laughs, tilting his head so his cheek rests on your shoulder. You also turn your head slightly to make eye contact.

"You used to be. It's cute though." Ran says, a genuine smile has graced his features. One that you've only seen a few times before. You turn back to the mirror, unable to look in the eyes of such sincerity. You make eye contact with him through the mirror, thankful that his big grip on your body was keeping you upright because you're for sure you would have fainted by now.

"Is that a yes?" Ran asks again, making sure he has your date secured in his books so he can clear out his entire schedule just to make time for you.

"I'll think about it."

If you and wanna forgive Ran it’s up to youuu

@imjustaweirdnerd @crybabylisa @gulfkfl @haitaaniran @lonnie19 @angelmitsuri @makotowife @heizis @thesadvampire @91sfuyu @dreamyscenarios @dilf-city  @fuschiguro @shostr @simplyrosesxr @barilnisanzu @debbienirn @nnyarlaa @ohkazu @sexybaeshin @theseductiveempress @hana-patata @cherrysimps @zand3rrr @akii-kaze @notgoldentoshi @gumiwaka @moonmikasuki @gajeelstan @pinksilk @abby9922 @mitts2002 @moldy-mushrooms @pinkfishgardenoperator @ilsatambe-blog @talasleeping @megumiyyy @yeehawnana  @kinkyato  @xxserenitysnow666xx @naisenpai @denkis-slut @ihateuguys  @shuujin @otakuprincess   @haitanifxn @savantsoulfinder @chiiiiiiiiis @sanzu-phoria @kasanodamarryme

[betterbemeta]

You know my biggest disapointment with breath of the wild was the Shiekah, they turned the VERY indian inspired group into bland ass ninjas and in the story that most revolves around the shiekah's agency that feels off, i suppose an indian group being servants of a european monarchy sucks but the erasure still leaves a bad taste in my mouth, what do you think?

I've never heard that the Sheikah were inspired by Indian art. Which does not mean it can't be a read-- I just haven't encountered it before. I WILL say that I noticed a LOT of architecture inspired by South Asia and India in Skyward Sword. But the dungeons and ruins in that game are rarely associated with a specific people, only 'the ancient past' and 'the goddess Hylia'. I wish we actually got confirmation that ancient Sheikah were associated with those ruins, rather than the only direct clue to Sheikah culture in that game being a time traveling exposition lady.

We had really few direct depictions of Sheikah architecture and customs before BotW, and in that game the 'ancient' Sheikah features were designed with the Jōmon period, the earliest known Japanese art and culture. The 'modern' Sheikah features were also very Japanese in aesthetic.

This kind of brings me to the point I want to bring up and reply to in your ask, which is that I take slight issue with the idea that Hyrule is a 'European monarchy.' I think it could be easy to read it that way where I live, because we tend to trust the aesthetics of stuff in a story to match up to locations in 'real life.' If we see a guy wielding a 14th century straight longsword we tend to assume the guy, within the bounds of style, is a medieval European dude. We don't expect him to lift his helm visor and reveal he's Japanese.

But for the same reason we look at anime characters and assume that many of them are probably intended to scan as Japanese to a Japanese audience, I think we need to extend that to Legend of Zelda. Even though the Hylian monarchy isn't wearing fashions that look Japanese, their nationalist myth throughout many games is set up to be extremely familiar to the domestic Japanese audience. Link and Zelda may be Blondes but the Sheikah analogs to a 'japan' themed culture are given white hair.

(Somebody else than me might have better insight into Anime Hair Colors.)

I live in the USA, 'the west', so by default narratives about imperialism and orientalism most accessible to me are going to assume whiteness and euro-centrism. But I feel it would be wrong to frame a piece of Japanese media as about whiteness, especially when it's clear that we can see the same type of stuff happen wherever racism and imperialism intersect.

There's only so much detail or nuance I can really have, given that I'm a white person in the anglosphere who's able to take Asian Literature in college, and Use Wikipedia, and Compare mythology, history, and news out of other countries to Video Games.

But yes, with all that said. It does put bad tastes in my mouth. Basically any depiction of entire cultures existing in some way to ensure a monarchy's security will do that, and the recent installment TotK extends to other fantasy races the horrible fate that has always been slapped onto the Sheikah: bound by an oath to serve Hyrule, Zelda and by extension, Link who paradoxically exists to both be the nation's tool but also the inheritor of everything in it.

[keroronpa]

my pizza sauce story BTW

around 2ish years ago i used to work at a pizza place (my first job, many besties will remember this or some form of me mentioning it cause it fucking sucked balls) and i was the morning crew which meant prepping ingredients and making dough as well as pre making the crusts it was a whole thing id wake up at be there at 8 am to 4:30 and then id go home smelling like onions and sauce it was nasty as hell anyways one afternoon it was me and my one coworker i was pretty friendly with (super nice guy, horrible taste in music he kept trying to put me onto phonk cause i said i liked funk music when he asked and i didnt really have the heart to tell him he misheard so id just go along with it. i did check out some songs. yes. but its phonk. and i dont care for the entire genre) and i was busting open pineapple cans and all the bags of food prep wed get delivered and i got to the pizza sauce and was prepping 4 whole tubs of it to use since only prep for what we need for the day to keep ingredients fresh and i had Finally finished prepping and filling a cart since we had to transport all the ingredients with our 2(two) old and broken down plastic carts. and i had filled the cart with the smaller prep but i had made a slight miscalculation with the weight of the pizza sauce tubs so i tried to slide one onto the cart. Big mistake. it fell opening up and sauce splattered everywhere. im talking walls floor me my coworker tables paper on the walls above the cooler and even on the fucking CEILING.

photo proof btw. there was more i wa sjust in so much shock i took one picture and started screaming

anyways this was around 4pm in my shift and iwas so clocked out of it and flustered and my coworker was so nice and he helped me clean it (i did majority dont worry) but then there was the dilemma of how to clean the ceiling. the store manager wasnt there thank god cause i know he wouldve beaten my ass with choice words since he already didnt like me and i hated him. i continue my coworker had the amazing idea to grab a ladder and the mop we have in the area and try and mop the ceiling. and it worked well in theory but it just smeared the tomato sauce and made it thinner and since the tomato sauce was pretty acidic it started to stain. anyways. we got most of it with what we could but i went home so exhausted and embarrassed like Fuck dude how could this happen to me. and then like 3 weeks later i just stopped showing up to work

anyways i tell youthis because any time i bring up me having an occupation or spilling something one of my gay ass friends always has to mention the time i fucking got pizza sauce on the ceiling.

[unohanabbygirl]

FMN- the family is annoying me.It’s like everyone wants a piece of Luke or has this expectation of Luke. Luke barely has time and peace for himself which he so greatly deserves. Not to mention that when he gets his memories back he will have to deal with those old memories, and the horrible memories he currently has of his current life. Not to mention added guilt and resentment for being left out of the family. Screw this family. All this added stress and shit isn’t helping him at all. If they knew what’s he been through they would let him breathe and not hold him to these expectations that he needs to be there for everyone. Where was everyone for him?? Like hell nah I was ready to ghetto and throw hands and rip egg a new one. I know he’s just a kid and has his own shit to deal with an all and his feelings are valid but dude come on. Look at Luke, he’s lost weight, no sleep, stressed the f out. Put two and two together he’s not doing okay. If anything Luke deserves all the attention for being so deprived of it. And yet Luke isn’t even asking for it. If anything it’s unwanted on his part because he feels undeserving of it and it makes him uncomfortable. I want Luke to just run away and leave that mess of a family to give them a taste of their own medicine and get their own heads out of their asses. Harwin WTF? You need to do better. Read up on some father one on one books. Everyone needs to take a hint. Luke baby, you’ve done nothing wrong.

Most people’s reactions to the newest chapter have been similar to yours and I must say that i’m loving it more than I should 😭

My goal with this chapter was to make readers feel like they’re being suffocated. Like multiple people keep helping themselves to crowding your personal space to the point where they’re attempting to burrow themselves into your skin. New people are showing up left and right without his foster parents even asking him if he’s in the right state of mind to handle such a full house, people are saying things without thinking twice (Harwin…) and most of everyone present is expecting something they still refuse to accept Luke just can’t give, nor are they entitled to simply because they were once family. Luke’s own rose colored lenses have fallen off since the club while everyone else is doing everything they can to keep their own on even though it’s a useless fight. It sucks to say but Alicent’s house would be a much better space for Luke to put his mental health first as a whole. Less people, their expectations aren’t overwhelmingly as they barely have any, and it’s a very serene. He could even go on relaxing walks with Nugget.

Just as you said, Luke deserves proper attention because anyone who’s not living in their own head can see he’s not doing okay, yet attention is the very last thing he wants no matter from who. He feels undeserving of the love that comes along with people checking in on someone and he’ll soon come to find that in an unexpected source.

[ironychan]

Here are some results of several days' attempts at fishing.  Most of the fish I ever saw before were already dipped in batter and deep-fried, which is probably why I tended to think of them as pretty boring animals.  I stand corrected.

Vandebeek and Ireland were particularly interested, because both of them used to sport fish as a hobby.  They were keen to point out how these creatures are adapted for living in a river full of silt where you can't see anything.  The fish with the giant mouth can suck things into it from a few centimetres away.  The one with the face tentacles can use them to keep track of what's going on in the water around it.  The giant arms allow the tiny crab to feel around for things.

Reynolds, who is currently sitting with his hand in a bucket of ice and also on a precautionary dose of epinephrine because Boonmee pointed out we don't know if he's having a toxic reaction or an allergic one, wanted to call the big-mouthed one the Fucking Bastardfish.  We managed to talk him down to Brindled Bastardfish but he would not budge on the 'bastard' part.  Possibly to show him up, Vandebeek named the face tentacle one Cthulhops hudsonensis.  The little crab thing we're calling a Crimp Shrimp but nobody will own up to coining it.

The big fellow we found not by catching it in our net but by stepping on it as it hid in the riverbed mud.  When we brought it up for a better look we discovered its horrible mouth that shoots straight up to eat anything that tries to nibble on the dark tips of its face tentacles.  I took my turn to name something and called it a Hapsburg Flatboi in honour of its underbite.

We have also the fat little guy in the lower right, who has decided that the best way to keep from being predated upon is to be covered with shark teeth.  It's hide is incredibly tough and if you rub it the wrong way you'll lose the skin off your fingertips.  The only way we could get into it was down a sort of seam between scales in the side, which Vandebeek says is a sensory organ called the lateral line, and even then it dulled his knife.  We figured anything that works that hard to protect its innards must be delicious and we were right.  It's pink, meaty, and a bit greasy like trout, where most of the other fish just tasted kind of muddy.  Wang named it the Fishko Ball, because it's round and covered with silver facets.

Then there's this goddamn thing:

Ireland thinks these guys are examples of 'decarcinization', which is when crabs evolve to look not like crabs.  It is the opposite of 'carcinization', which is when things that are not crabs evolve to look like crabs.  I guess this is common enough that we needed a word for it?  Boonmee is making curry out of it and several others are eager for a taste, but I must decline on the grounds that whatever it is, it is definitely shellfish, and I don't want hives today.

We have named the big one a Long Crab, while the little dudes are Razor Crabs, because they're thin rather than because they're sharp.  Although they are also sharp.

Ireland wants me to note that not all crustaceans are crabs.  However, by her own admission they all either used to be crabs or will someday become crabs, so I stand by my terminology.

[dreamwritesimagines]

It’s CMA-

Omg she acknowledged that she feels safe and that’s growth from where she used to be! Clover is becoming more emotionally intelligent and doesn’t even realize it haha

Lmaooo “classic cactus” clover is right… artists…. (/j)

Lmao Ben has mastered the art of lying to Anthony over the years; once again Dream’s writing of sibling dynamics is absolutely golden

I also love that clover knows that palette knives aren’t sharp because it means that she’s been paying attention to him and the things he loves too ❤️❤️❤️

I love the tie in to the last chapter with her concern about his hands and his art<3

Also awww she’s actually going to tell the bridgertons! That’s a huge first step for her considering how long it took her to tell Ben. She’s growing!! Augh you love to see it

Their domestic loveliness even when no one else is around to see- be still my heart (I see clover feels the same LOL)

Penelope what the fuck dude… this whistledown is awful. Girl is full on getting on my nerves dude……

Are we going to get to see Anthony and Ben’s convo? I would love to know how that went

Ah Ben is teaching clover how to lie to his family lmaoooo

NO FUCK NO FUCK FUCK FUCK NO NOT HER MOM FUCK OFF TO HELL GET OUT OF HERE RUN CLOVER FUCK FUCK FUCK

Fuck yeah clover!!! Put her in her place!!!

Ugh I had suck a sinking feeling in my stomach reading what her mom said. I still have the heebie jeebies she is SO gross. I hate her SO SO SO much; I just want to scream AUGHHHHHH

(Seriously my entire body language changed the more she talked. I am so tense now lmao heart racing for an entirely different reason)

(Lowkey reminded me of my mom)

FUCK

Okay now that that’s out of my system (/lying) FUCK I am so proud of her for being able to walk away and be rational and not panic; good for her! But fuck that was/is a terrible feeling

I am glad that we got to see clover’s growth and everything, but this is such a terrible way to see it.

I know that this chapter was necessary and it was mostly good but that bit at the end slightly tainted things. Like again, I am proud of her, but fuck if that doesn’t leave a bad taste in your mouth.

Dream I hope there will be more fluff to come after this shitshow…. I don’t use this term lightly, but what a monster, my god……

CMA darling hiiii! ❤️

Yessss exactly! Like, being with Benedict and also being surrounded by her real family made her feel so safe that her parents showing up didn't have the same impact on her as it would have at the beginning of the story! ❤️

Artists 😂

Omg honey that's so sweet of you! ❤️I enjoy writing sibling dynamics so much! ❤️

You caught that detail yessss! 🥰 Clover pays attention to everything he does even if she plays it cool 😂

Yesss she is! ❤️ She feels very comfortable with Violet, she knows she's very different than her mother ❤️

We will have more domestic fluffy moments 😏❤️ Very soon 😏

Pen is making moneeeey 😂

We can get a HC with Anthony and Benedict's convo if you'd like? ❤️

Oooh that reaction to her mom is a great sign! ❤️ That was exactly what I was trying to do, because I wanted to make her a bit different than the father but still keeping her as her horrible self😂

Yessss, I think this chapter was important to show Clover's progress in general and how she changed ❤️ She would have reacted very impulsively and then crumble after that conversation if it had happened earlier, but Benedict helped her get stronger against anything and everything❤️ So no matter what her parents tell her, it barely has any impact on her ❤️

More fluff you say? Oh I think you will like the next chapter very, very much 😏

Thank you so much for this love! ❤️

[fenharael]

one of these days i'm gonna write a long ass post no one will read comparing the Yashahime Sessrin debacle to the Elden Ring Mohgmiq shipping community.

actually i'll just do it now.

Full disclosure I wrote a lot about how much I hated Sessrin and was definitely in the anti-tags. I never had an issue with people shipping it though- I had a big issue with the character assassination that had to happen for the ship to be canon and the complete and utter bastardization of the Sess/Rin relationship in order to make it work for a show that sucked absolute ass.

Shipping isn't a moral statement on a persons character. fiction and art exists to allow people to explore dark, twisted, or taboo subjects- among self expression, social commentary...etc etc. if a person ships something "problematic" that's their business, and if it interacts with a wider fandom audience it's common courtesy to tag or warn people of the content they might see.

do you have to like or agree with someone's ship? no. do you have to be friends with that person or engage with them and their interests? no. does someone shipping something morally ambiguous, distasteful or "wrong" mean that person as a whole is bad, evil, or somehow toxic? no. can it mean those things? yes. but that's not something you can tell from purely seeing someone's tastes in fiction, media, or shipping online.

when it comes to narrative and media portraying things as "good" or "bad" or if something has an underlying commentary or agenda, it gets more complex.

take lolita, or game of thrones for example:

lolita is a novel which depicts a pedophilic relationship through the eyes of an abuser. the relationship and lolita herself are seen from humbert's perspective- he sexualizes her and rapes her and still casts her in the light of some sort of temptress though she's only 12. he admits to himself that's what he's doing and the novel- despite being from his POV doesn't excuse or praise this. he is not a hero, he is not praised, and the relationship is not cast as healthy, desirable or good.

in GoT we get cersei and jaime. twins who are so in love they tear each other and the world around them apart to be together. their relationship is tragic, it's viewed as taboo and degenerate by characters in the novel- and for most people that would be really gross and unacceptable to see irl. but their relationship still has value and meaning, they are two screwed up people who ultimately are condemned for being horrible not for their incest but because they do bad things and dont care about anyone but each other.

on one hand, we have an author who depicts something morally reprehensible to explore an unreliable narrative - the fucked up psyche of a middle aged dude who's so up his own ass that he thinks a child has seduced him and that's like, ok.

on the other hand we have an author who has written a relationship most would consider morally bad- but ultimately what makes those characters immoral isn't their love- it's them.

both of these relationships aren't acceptable or seen as healthy or safe in real life, but their inherent depiction isn't "wrong" and doesn't make the media they appear in "wrong".

can there be issues or problems when media depicts problematic, harmful, or morally ambiguous things as a positive? oh yeah.

to bring us back to Yashahime, part of the reason the sessrin ship got SO much backlash was because of how it was portrayed.

for some context: we have an already established relationship between sesshomaru and rin in the OG inuyasha- rin is a child of around 8, Sesshomaru is an immortal demon lord of unknown age, but looks to be 18-20. in inuyasha, he acts as her guardian and caretaker.

in yashahime we get a rin who from episode 1 has: zero agency, zero character growth or personality, zero change in mindset or mannerisms from her depiction as a child. and on top of that when we do see her interact with her beloved husband...he literally treats her like shit. like. i won't go too much into it because it was really poorly handled.

but the point is- sunrise went out of there way to establish rin was impregnated as barely a teenager by her mentor figure, make it out to be some grand romance and then when they had the opportunity to showcase said romance made it the most cringeworthy and sad thing you could possibly imagine.

this was against the perceived wishes of the original author, rumiko takahashi who herself stated she created their original relationship to be more of a parent/child dynamic. that and it basically nullified any and all character development sesshomaru had in the OG show.

this is an example of a narrative portraying something explicitly harmful as romantic or positive to the possible detriment of the viewer base- who contain young girls who may now see grooming behavior as okay and normal.

that being said- people who decide to ship or write about these relationships may do so for a wide variety of reasons. maybe they want to explore the dynamic more. maybe they want to make their own commentary. maybe they just thinks it's interesting or compelling. or maybe they have some sort of trauma related to it and it helps them to explore it. ultimately whatever the reason- it's none of your business.

in fandom, you have the choice to engage with or not engage with things you don't like. if the content is tagged and you do it anyway- that's on you.

just because i personally find sessrin gross, icky, and would really rather not see it ever doesn't mean the people who do like it are bad. it means they like it.

the same goes for people who ship Mohgmiq. it's a ship. it's a ship in a videogame that is never once portrayed as UWU ~romantic~ in fact, the story and atmosphere pretty clearly make it out to be an act of intelligent evil. (no matter how tragic mohg is and no matter whatever is going on with miquella and his bewitchment- which like who knows maybe we get a twist - but that's not the point)

and even if it didn't go out of its way to do that, people can still ship whatever they want.

anyway this is getting long so disclaimer:

people with ships that contain morally ambiguous or bad pairings aren't inherently bad people

can a pattern of problematic or predatory behavior and preferences give you a heads up that someone may be not great? yeah but that's a different discussion

i don't have the energy to write up a whole thing about pedophilia in anime, american obsessions with youth and child pageants, how underaged porn contributes to the harm and sexualization of minors- especially non-white children and a ton of other shit that ties into this atm

there's more discourse going on around how mohg is the only LGBTQ rep in ER and he's a pedophile etc etc and that's a whole thing for another post BUT if you seriously think he's the only queer character in ER buddy i've got news for you

censorship is bad

touch grass

[darkacademicvibes]

Who am i?

Because people kept asking, let's make it easier! <3

Obviously my blog name is darkacademicvibes and there is a story behind that, but that's for another time, but you can call me:

Any pet name! (I use pet names for literally anyone and I'm comfortable with being called things like love, babes, sweetheart, any of that stuff!)

Demi (taken from the academic part of my username)

Anything that brings you comfort <3 (E.G someone who makes requests here calls me mum and that's absolutely fine even though I don't know them!)

I'm 18! (Everyone says i seem like I'm 28???)

My house is Hufflepuff and has been since I was eight 💛🖤

Common Questions!:

Do I support J.K. Rowling?

She can eat shit for all I care.

What's your go-to recommendation for a maraudsrs fic?

All the young dudes has my heart in some sort of headlock.

Why do you write marauders fics?

Because they make me and others happy! I enjoy writing, and if I can make others happy with my words than I wanna share!

Do you have any stomachache/cramps/period pain remedies?

I get asked this a lot for some reason but I'm not shy about admitting that I have NASTY periods. Not as bad as other people who have bad periods but still pretty painful, especially because pain killers are useless on me. Here are my main remedies because I thinks it's plain cruel to gatekeep these and I'm excited to hopefully help you cope!

Sore throat - literally just tea! One sugar, black tea, milk, and half a teaspoon of honey mixed in completely. It's soothing and nice and sweet.

Cramps - a heat pack and a damp cloth! Put the heat pack on your stomach, or whatever hurts the most and put the washcloth on your forehead, try taking a nap. It doesn't work all the time, and sometimes it only works a little, but at least it's something.

Nausea - ginger!!! Anything with ginger in it! I know it sounds horrible because ginger is so potent, and it sucks as someone who gets really sick on my period and hates the taste of ginger, but literally anything helps. Ginger and cinnamon tea, pasta with ginger in it, ANYTHING!

Mood swings - my go to for being super emotional is warm milk or a lukewarm hot chocolate. Anything that brings comfort, really. Usually I give my roommate warm milk when she can't sleep because it's what my mum gave me, I put in a little cinnamon, a couple drops of vanilla essence as it simmers and put it into a mug. It's not a real remedy but it's soothing.

Puking - less of a remedy, I think, but when you've finished throwing up, flush the toilet before this, lean over to loo and rub your stomach firmly, make sure to drink water as well and take a moment before you get up. It settles your stomach a little, make sure you can feel the pressure on your stomach, but it shouldn't hurt you!!

Cold sweats - a warm damp cloth over your forehead, it'll warm you up a little and then as it slowly cools to dry, it should stop the sweating. Change and take a nap because damn hun, it's deserved if you have cold sweats.

Sore joints - pressure. Like, full body pressure. One time, my roommate lay on top of me, literal perfection, I felt so much better after 20 minutes of nonstop, comfortable, pressure.

Migraines - very soft, almost muted, music. Something like Lana Del Rey, or Claire Young. Have some pain killers, a warm cup of tea, make sure it's dark, turn of the music and try to sleep. The only remedy I have for these, sadly, is comfortable sleep. As someone very migraine prone (doctors literally gave me meds for it) the only thing I can tell you is to sleep and then have a comforting meal after. Pasta, lasagne, Mac and cheese, cottage pie, even if it's ordered, or leftovers, something simple and cozy is good.

Dizzy spells - if you can, LOTS of rest, and (mainly) ginger. Ginger, rest, and lots of water. Water to the point of peeing every 25 minutes, LOTS of it. Good luck.

Nose bleeds - tilt your head back and pinch the bridge of your nose gently, once it's stopped, rest and water, again. But also, chocolate and pasta. Not together, obviously, but have some pasta with ginger in it (because ginger is good for you, even if you don't have Dizzy spells or Nausea), and then a chocolate snack before a nap.

Misc.!

Movie recs:

A walk to remember

The ugly truth

Can you keep a secret

Braveheart

Oceans 8

The picture of Dorian Grey

Little women

Pride and prejudice

Pride and prejudice (zombies)

My Sexuality:

pan!

Any personal questions are welcomed but not all will be answered! <3

With love, as always,

Have a good week everyone!

[nerves-nebula]

oh shoot sorry it sounded like prejudice, my apologies

(long, also tw??) It's more like in my town there's only like 2 motels and one is 1000% a love motel (which, not saying those are bad, but that building is such a health hazard that it gets closed down a lot. Anyone going there is risking their life tbh). And the other one shut down a while back after the roof collapsed.

There's a fair bit of shady things that go on around here (we're a town that's big enough to be considered a city but it's more like a small town that just kept growing to include other small towns. It's weird and means that there's sections of town that's built up and large sections of older houses kinda falling apart) which means we're uhh on route between larger cities for not great things. (trafficking, kidnapping, etc sorta bad stuff).

Even though there's strict gun laws here there's a surprising amount of covered up shootings (and in general murder and unnatural deaths) that happen, like we're not in america and we have multiple-times-a-year shooting drills at school. Our town was once called the murder city before the 2000s lol.

It's more for general safety, though there's a huge homeless issue here. There's not enough homes, rent is extreme, there's far more people than there should be dying on the streets of overdoses, etc etc and a lot of covering it up/it not being reported/publicized. However the locations of the motels are too far from the main downtown so it's more of a "it's horrible that people have to choose between the streets and walking for an hour or three for an overpriced mouldy room".

ig that's just reflective of the current climate here, I could go on but the town's gotten pretty bad lately. Cops suck, town section divides, stalking/harassment, and all the other stuff I could go on about. It really is terrible that there's nothing happening to push for more affordable housing and help for those that need it, and I really really hope the best for everyone in a bad situation (i myself was homeless for a month before getting an overcharged room with a shady dude. I ended up sleeping in trees lol) but it's like balancing between sympathy and not wanting to get attacked, hate crimed, stalked, or whatever else.

Not to say that it'll happen the moment someone goes outside, but it's also like.. more common than it should be. I've had some run in with people on the bus harassing me and trying to find out where to find me where there wouldn't be surveillance. It's pretty easy to find drug deals going on. There's extremely few mental health resources and even less that are even available and there's a huge shortage of doctors. There's a tent town that has appeared in the news coercing children into "moving in," and the police basically said the kids are choosing to run away and if the parent's can't stop them it isn't their issue. A guy one of my cousins was dating was shot by a cop because his older brother was involved in all that (RIP).

ig it's a thing my parents taught as a way of protection. Kids in our family get pocket tools (aka protection aka legal way to carry a knife) once you're old enough to be out and about on your own, and it's probably added to a part of the family having to talk to protective services because of gang related issues and other stuff. My uncle (ayy hunter moment) on one side is a known child predator with a group of friends with similar tastes and has tried kidnapping a different cousin (and possibly other kids) and tried doing that to me at his own son's funeral (my name was changed so I could better avoid him). He's connected with my aunt who was forced into a situation where they were group raising kids and a few died and child protective has done nothing :/

We ain't rich and it's more of developing a radar of "will that place kill you or not" sorta thing, possibly related to all the shit happening in my family. Like there's SO many people cut off because they've tried killing kids or other stuff. We've been robbed the few times. My family will choose to park the car outside of the city and sleep in it rather than use the motel rooms, or camp in the better seasons. We had to do that when I was in grade 7 because we were homeless for a few months. Had a lot of sleep overs that time lmao.

Sorry for rambling, I've been trying to move outta here for a while but the nearest towns are pretty bad too. The only times I've been to the motel is when helping out my cousin who does prostitution sometimes and sometimes has had clients that are too much trouble so there's definitely some trauma association there.

Anyways I'm glad to hear that outside of my town outside halls are good and not a sign of risk!!

no need for apologies i was sure you had reasons and I didn't necessarily expect an explanation, it just reminded me of stuff going on in my home town is all.

im sorry you're in such a shit situation, it sounds awful. I hope you can move away sooner rather than later. but for now your "will that place kill you or not" radar seems useful so I'm glad you have it.

and i dont mind rambling. i like to hear about other people's lives (in case that wasn't clear from me reading and responding to almost every ask I get hah) and I like hearing why you think the things you do, or why you have certain associations that I don't. its always interesting.

[donut-cloud]

Lifesteal incorrect quotes

Subz: Ashswag, fuck off. Subz: And by "fuck off" I mean "fuck off right back here and listen", you insufferable prick.

Branzy: Sleep is the body’s best safety mechanism. Rekrap: How so? Branzy: It keeps you from screwing up for 8 hours.

Leow0ok: The odds of this happening by coincidence are vanishingly small.  MrCube: I would say infinitesimally. McClutch: And I'd say teenily-weenily. We all know words.

Branzy : I’m afraid of clowns. There, I said it. Rekrap: Branzy , if you don't like clowns, why are you dating a clown?

Subz: Do you ever get pre-annoyed? Like you already know someone is going to piss you off? Branzy: What? No, I— Vitalasy : *enters room* Subz: *jaw clenches*

Branzy: Are you alright with constructive criticism? I don't want to sound mean. Ashswag: No, go ahead. I want to hear it. Branzy: It sucks. Ashswag: That's not constructive criticism.

Branzy: My heart is guarded but like… very poorly. The kind of guards that would let 3 kids in a trench coat into an R rated movie.

Branzy: Don’t worry, I have a permit. Rekrap: ...This just says “I can do what I want”.

Subz: When you've been on the internet for as long as I have, you develop thick skin. McClutch: Purple isn't your color. Subz: Purple brings out my eyes you prick! *Chases after McClutch*

McClutch: I truly believe that water can solve all your problems. Vitalasy : Weight loss? Drink water. Subz: Clear skin? Drink water. Ashswag: Want to get rid of someone? Drown them.

McClutch: WHY DID YOU KILL HIM?! HE COULD HAVE HAD HOPES AND DREAMS, HE COULD HAVE HAD A FAMILY!!! Vitalasy : McClutch- Vitalasy : It- it was just an ant-

Clown: Someone will die... Branzy: Of fun!

Ashswag: Branzy has no idea I’m high. Branzy: You’re high? Ashswag: Oh, I’m sorry. Ashswag, leaning over to Subz: Branzy has no idea I’m high.

Subz: Mint is just cold spicy Branzy: What the actual fuck is wrong with you.

Ashswag : Slash gamemode creative. Rekrap: Dude, this isn't Min- Ashswag: *starts levitating*

Subz: I'm a nice person, but I'm about to start throwing rocks at people.

 Clown: Is something burning? Branzy, leaning on the counter: Just my desire for you. Clown: Branzy, the toaster is literally on fire.

McClutch: Did you like the food I made? Vitalasy : No, not really. McClutch: But I put my heart and soul into it! Vitalasy : No wonder it tastes so cold and dead.

Ashswag: Now, the recipe calls for 2 shots of vodka. Ashswag: *upends the bottle*

Ashswag: Drink your school, stay in drugs, and get 8 hours of drugs.

Subz: I need life advice. Branzy, sipping Gatorade and eating cookie dough: You came to the right person.

Branzy: Can we go to a haunted house? McClutch: What’s wrong with the one we live in? Branzy: Wh-what? McClutch: Goodnight, Branzy.

Subz: I think we can all agree I’m the ten amongst these threes.

Vitalasy: So I have made the decision to trust you. Branzy: A horrible decision, really.

Ash: Something’s off.

Vitalasy: Maybe you’ve finally developed human emotions and feel bad for terrorizing the server.

Ash: No, but that IS funny.

Branzy: I really like murder mysteries

Clown: I've been a suspect in four murder cases.

Vitalasy : I can’t believe all these people are wearing black. black is supposed to be my thing, they’re all just posers. Branzy: Vitalasy , for the last time, we’re at a funeral.

Ashswag: So, I've been thinking Subz- Subz: That's dangerous.

Branzy: But who gets which pencil? Ashswag: Since they're my things, I get the good one, McClutch gets the broken one and you don't get one because fuck you.

Subz: I need to dye my hair. Branzy: ... Subz: Or get another tattoo. Branzy: ... Subz: Or a new piercing. Branzy: Why? Subz: To, you know, appease the mental breakdown gods.

Spepticle: What is the big deal about borrowing money? I do it all the time! Sometimes, I even pay it back!

Ashswag: Am I a human? Am I a god? It doesn't matter. I'm going to burn your house down.

Branzy: Is this a good idea? Branzy: Probably not. Branzy: Do I care? Branzy: No.

ClownPierce: What doesn't kill me better start running, because now I'm fucking pissed.

Vitalasy: In case you haven’t noticed, I’m weird. I’m a weirdo. I don’t “fit in” and I don’t WANT to fit in. Have you ever seen me without this stupid hat on? That’s weird.

McClutch: Say no to drugs. McClutch: Say yes to drugs. McClutch: It doesn't matter if you say yes or no to drugs, cause if you're talking to drugs... then you're on drugs.

Ashswag: Yeah, well I've never died so how do I know that god is real.

Branzy: I'm yet to properly begin my history notes BUT!!!! I got 100% on a quiz about european countries so who's the REAL winner here.

McClutch: I hate when people ask me, 'What did you do today?' Buddy listen, I woke up at noon and then it was five p.m., okay? I don't KNOW!

Ashswag: Be right back, gonna hit the toilet for a quick power sob.

Ashswag: Arson? Oh, you mean "crime brûlée".

Vitalasy: Pros and cons of dating me. Vitalasy: Pros. You'll be the cute one. Vitalasy: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

Ashswag: I’m sick and tired of being called 'mortal' like, you don’t know that. Neither do I. I have never died even ONCE. Nothing has been proven yet. Stop making assumptions. It’s rude.

Branzy, holding up their class notes: And then this doodle of a burrito because when I first read Aristotle, I thought it was pronounced like “Chipotle”. Branzy, in shock: Wait a minute, is it “Chip-o-tottle”?

 Vitalasy: You were wise to seek help from the world's most deadly weapon. Vitalasy: It's me.

Leow0ok: [pulls out a knife]

PrinceZam: how many of those do you have?

Leow0ok, pulling out more: how many do you need?

Branzy: Do you think lava would be spicy?

RekRap: Branzy, please do not eat lava.Chief: Eat it and let us know.

ClownPierce: Actually, since it’s made of molten rock, it probably tastes bland and dusty.

Branzy: Clown , you’re the only one who understands me. 

Branzy: Clown talks in her sleep sometimes. It’s adorable.

ClownPierce, sleeping: Fight me… you motherfucker… square up…

Branzy: :)

[black-rose-writings]

Reading Twilight - Chapters 21 - Epilogue

Chapters: Preface&1, 2, 3&4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9&10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15&16, 17, 18-20, 21-Epilogue

Phone Call

I finally googled what exactly VCR was, because I have no idea. Like, I think we may have owned one when I was a toddler.

Oof... this is bad.

I totally don’t blame Bella for breaking apart at this moment. Holy fuck. At least she’s an only child.

I’m like... genuinely freaked out. Like, even knowing this is fake and he probably used her old home videos or something, SMeyer can apparently write pretty decent horror, when she’s not obsessing over angelic teenagers. But I guess when women write fantasy it has to be a young adult romance.

Hide-and-seek

Damn, good one, girl.

If that’s how you chose to spend your potential last hours alive, I have no problem with that.

Called it with the home video.

Alice backstory, yay.

But also, like... fuck this dude. SMeyer should have definitelly been a horror writer.

Aaand, fade to black.

An impasse

I had nothing to say to the last chapter. I certainly liked it more than the in-and-out-of-consciousness scenes in S&S, if that counts for something.

“I’m sorry I taste so good.” I get that you’re kinda fucked up now, but that’s weird, even for you.

“Alice had a lot of fun fabricating the evidence” Good for her.

Sooo... her mom married young and now thinks any relationship before 35 is gonna be horrible and fail... or something. I’d buy it more if it didn’t sounds so fucking cartoonish. But what do I expect from a Mormon author, I guess.

Bella is being decently logical. He’s being emo.

This little religious emo is going be the death of me, holy fuck.

An occasion

Alice, that sly little vixen. Guilt-tripping your future sister-in-law/crush into letting you play dress up with her, while she’s injured. That’s... definitelly something.

The angry doggos are gonna be watching, got it.

Angela went and got her short king, I see. Good for her.

He’s being emo again. Fucking kill me already.

Also... proms are evil incarnate and I hate them with seething passion. I’m 100% with Bella on that one. And Edward can go suck ass for doing that to her. (No, like literally, go eat a donkey and don’t do that shit to her again).

And, that’s it. I’m done with this book.

Final thoughts:

It was not as bad as I expected.

Like, maybe I have low standards, but like... it’s not bad? There’s definitelly some garbage, but not nearly as much as I’d been lead to believe. It has it’s WTF moments and Bella’s Edward obsession is kinda concerning, but like... it’s okay?

As I’ve said many times before, I’ve hated Siege and Storm much more than this. I’ve hated the Grisha books in general a lot more than this.

At it’s worst, Twilight is annoying and the characters made dumb life chocies, but that’s about it. At it’s worst, the Grisha books are straight up ignoring genocide in favor of a shitty romance story (and yes, to fill the meme, Twilight is a better love story than Malina and I will fucking fight you on that from now on).