#💌 with love
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rinsei · 10 months ago
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Aeri, Aeri ! did you hide saerins ?! (no pressure to answer, just hoping you’re okey)
hi remi !! yes it’s just locked for now :’) dw i’m fine, thanks for checking in, i appreciate it <3 i will open it back up when i’m feeling better !! 🫶🏼
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punkeropercyjackson · 1 month ago
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Ship dynamic
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yuwuta · 1 year ago
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satoru puts his glasses on your face whenever he thinks you’re giving him bedroom eyes in public bc he really cannot stand to think about it or you for too long or he’ll be walking around hard in his pants for the rest of the day. the thing is, you’re not even trying half the time, but that doesn’t stop him—you flirt with him a bit too much, bat your lashes the wrong way, or even smile at him a little too long and he’s already feeling warm in the face and satoru knows he doesn’t have the self control to stop his thoughts so he has to stop you. he’ll promptly stick his sunglasses on your face and turn away with a sigh like they’re some kind of last minute sexual deterrent. 
it’s not because then, if satoru thinks too hard, he gets stuck on the image of you in his glasses, of you in his clothes, of you in anything that belongs to him and that’s way worse then you smiling prettily at him or saying his name or touching his arm. so, then he has to kiss you, and then take his glasses back, so he has something to hide the burning blush on his face.
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khywren · 10 months ago
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gale is the freakiest person in camp and nothing will convince me otherwise.
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yukizme · 9 months ago
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nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just memorized your coffee order because it was the most basic decent thing to do. not because it gave him an excuse to talk to you, even if it was for two minutes.
nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just always kept a spare hair tie with him because you once mentioned that you always forget to bring an extra with you during missions. not because he always remembered every little thing you had ever said.
nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just didn't particularly like gojo, especially when he was making you laugh. not because he wanted you to laugh like that with him.
nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just felt his heart drop to his stomach when you got injured on a mission because that's what he'll feel for any other colleague. not because he couldn't bear the idea of not seeing you ever again or hearing you call him 'kento, my angel.'
nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just asked to be paired with you because you spoke the least amount of nonsense and you proved to be a good company. not because he was slowly losing interest in talking to anyone else who wasn't you.
nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just read the books you recommended because they were already on his reading list. not because he wanted to talk to you all the time about everything and anything under the sun.
nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just brought you your favourite food whenever you seemed in a bad mood because he needed you to focus on the task. not because he didn't like seeing you upset and the thought of you being all sad and teary-eyed made his heart hurt.
nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just hated the idea of you loving someone else.
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mikakuna · 11 months ago
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when he was robin, bruce could never even slightly raise his voice at jason before feeling like the biggest asshole alive because jason's eyes would get all watery and his bottom lip would tremble and he'd tug on the ends of his shirt, all while looking up at bruce. he'd give a quiet snotty sniffle that should gross bruce out but instead makes bruce's heart SHATTER.
every morning after a fight, alfred would walk into the living room to call them both to eat and he'd just see jason in his dad's lap, giggling while driving a toy car up bruce's arm with a million new toys scattered around the room. bruce sits there with his head tossed back, eyes closed, and an abandoned newspaper in his left hand (he's half asleep bc he spent the entire night ordering shit). he also has glittery stickers pasted on any area of bare skin, including his face.
i don't think jason realizes he has this power. he's just genuinely a kid who gets very emotional when an adult gets cross with him (bc hello this caretaker child would not be able to hand that). any fight with bruce or alfred, he has to fight the urge to burst into tears so hard (he doesn't wanna be a burden) that he just ends up looking heartbreakingly upset, and more like a child than bruce has ever seen him.
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lovestruck-lamb · 5 months ago
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starmocha · 12 days ago
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Oh oh oh since we're sharing pregnant mc hcs, how about one where they got a bit carried away, they did it, she got pregnant, he "died", by some miracle she didn't lose the baby, she's an excellent, doting, badass mom. then when he comes back he finds the love of his life with a little 1 year old baby girl that could be considered mc's perfect clone except for the eyes. the eyes are his. IMAGINE THE ANGST THE HURT THE TEARS THE LOVEEEEE!!!!!
🫵 are you guys using my Caleb-addled brain to sneak around my “I don’t take requests” condition. /lh 😔 this is who I am now, I guess. I see Caleb, I cave… 🥺
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Endless Summer
It was an ambush, another attempt on his life.
It was the thirteenth time in three months, as a matter of fact. Caleb had thwarted all of the previous attempts with ease, always on guard, untrusting of those who claimed to have vowed their loyalty to him as their colonel.
As you learned, you couldn’t trust anyone in Skyhaven, much less the Farspace Fleet. Dark secrets surrounded this seemingly elite entity and though it appeared like the place ran like a machine with perfect precision and efficiency, there was still an insidious side that Caleb refused to let you see.
It wasn’t just his life they were after. They were after yours as well, using you as the ultimate pawn to get to him. Little do they suspect, while you may be his greatest weakness, you were also his strength, his sole reason to persevere.
This was to be a fatal lesson for many to learn.
It was supposed to be a celebratory banquet, thrown in honor of the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel’s latest achievements. There were no deceptions by the hosts, but a traitorous group seized this opportunity to trap the young colonel and all doors within the banquet halls locked, keeping many of the guests hostages in the process.
Within the center of the room, Caleb calmly eyed all of the familiar faces that loomed overhead on the second floor as all around, innocent guests rushed to the exits, banging and screaming for help. He tried to push you away, get you to safety.
They were after him, after all. You didn’t need to be in the crossfires.
You didn’t have time to react, hearing that first gunshot that led the way for the onslaught of bullets.
Something in Caleb snapped that night. The barrage of bullets that came at him and you from all directions would have taken down anyone, but they all froze midair only because of his Evol freezing them in their track and keeping them suspended as if time had frozen at this very moment. He soon, however, learned it was merely a distraction.
Ca…leb…
The moment he saw the crimson blood seeping from your side, that knife pulled out quickly, and you were falling, eyes closing, as he ran toward you yelling your name. His Evol flared out of control, the gravity in the room suddenly immensely heavy, as dozens of men were pulled to their knees in futile struggles.
Open your eyes, he pleaded, his uniform soaked with your blood. His face twisted in pain, a million thoughts rushing through his mind, all of the memories of the past resurfaced in quick successions. All of those years of smiles and laughter that transitioned to pain and distrust only to slowly return to some semblances of the past were now coming to an end before his very eyes. He couldn’t lose you like this, not when he had promised that he would make things right again, to be the man that you deserved. Please…please…
You struggled to breathe, the pain unlike anything you had experienced in your life. As he watched you teetered closer to death, he was filled with wrath, an anger that could not be calmed by any forces in this world.
Caleb held his hand out, and a gun laying on the floor levitated before it rushed into his grip from across the room, and without a thought or any remorse or even hesitancy, he fired bullet after bullet into each man’s head, a clean shot straight through the center, not flinching even as the surrounding guests screamed and huddled to the floor, covering their ears from that violent, horrid sound.
When the last traitor fell, Caleb dropped the gun with a clatter, and his arms wrapped entirely around you, pulling you closer to his body for warmth. Your breathing had weakened even more, but he could still save you. He hadn’t failed you. Not yet, not ever. You were going to live. He would make sure of it.
Even if he now realized you were safer away from him.
Colonel Caleb, you had only slept for four hours last night, the robotic voice of an OTTO said with some semblance of concern in its artificial vocal. It levitated after its owner as the young colonel adjusted his uniform. The robot continued, explaining, An adult man of your age requires ei—
“I’ve slept enough,” he interrupted firmly, ignoring the robot, whose monitor quickly displayed a digitalized look of concern. Caleb had thought often of shutting down the robot and dismantling it, but he could never carry through, remembering that he had purchased this robot for you.
In this cold, monotonous so-called-home of his in Skyhaven, Caleb had few things that reminded him of you. A few plushies you two had won together sat on his living room couch, some snapshots you two had taken together at a photobooth, and perhaps a few furniture pieces you had ordered to be sent directly to his home. You had been in the process of bringing warmth and life into this place when everything came to an abrupt stop.
If he hadn’t taken you to that banquet that night nearly two years ago, Caleb wondered how things would have played out. You wouldn’t have gotten injured that night, but he feared perhaps it would just delay that same outcome. That night, he found himself at a fork in the road, forced to make a decision that would change the course of both of your lives.
Keep you by his side, where he had foolishly believed you would always be safe under his protection, or, let you go, let you believe that whatever had happened that night, he was the one who had died, finally taken away by Death himself. It was better to let you believe he had actually died this time, to keep you from searching for him, to keep you far away from Skyhaven—to keep you from him.
Since that night almost two years ago, Caleb’s nightmares had worsened. He relived the dreadful night, but he had also had other terrifying dreams so horrendous, he would wake up screaming in cold sweats, completely disoriented, unsure if he was trapped within another layer of the nightmare, or if he was truly awake.
“She’s safe, she’s safe,” he would often mutter to himself, an attempt to convince himself that he had made the right choice, that setting you free was the only way he could keep you safe. As long as you lived, he would bear the weight of his sacrifice, even if it meant never seeing you ever again.
It was sunny in Linkon, not a cloud in the sky, and the weather warm and inviting, but to Caleb, it was a place he had forbidden himself from ever stepping foot in again, out of fear that your paths would cross. In all of those times since he had distanced himself from you, allowed you to believe he was dead, he had managed to avoid any reason to step foot in the place that was once his home.
When his adjutant, Liam, had informed Caleb that his schedule required him to attend a conference meeting in Linkon, the young colonel stiffened, the atmosphere in the room stifling almost as if he was using his Evol. He suppressed his initial instinct to yell, knowing Liam was well aware of Caleb’s situation and had in the past made the necessary arrangements to prevent him from having any reason to step foot in that city.
It seemed he couldn’t stay away from Linkon forever, so he resigned to this situation, still remaining vigilant in his stance. Linkon was a big city, and there was no reason for your paths to cross. He would make do with this troublesome situation for the time being.
Now, Caleb had intended to return to Skyhaven the moment the meeting ended, and yet, against his better judgment, he found himself wandering down familiar streets, lost in memories of happier times. As he walked, before his eyes, he saw the silhouettes of him and you as children running down the street after school to your favorite little vintage grocery store.
Caleb, you dummy, you can’t use your Evol!
Don’t blame my Evol because you can’t run fast on those short legs, pipsqueak!
Caleb chuckled. He couldn’t help it. The memories of those years seemed so much more carefree. He often wished to go back to that time when the only things that weighed on yours and his shoulders were school or silly childish arguments.
As he approached the old grocery store, closed just a few years prior, he was surprised to learn that it was now under new ownership. The familiar place of his childhood was now a small trendy café, popular with college students and young couples.
To his astonishment—and, perhaps, also relief—the vibrant hydrangea garden in the back remained. Bushes of the white, blue, and pink flowers bloomed in the garden, showing that its new owner took well care of the plants. They looked like the hydrangeas of his childhood, of those long summer afternoons that never seemed to end as he and you made this place just another secret hideout only you two would ever know. As he walked down a beaten path, distracted, he was stirred out of his nostalgic thoughts when he felt something bumped into his leg. He peered down, surprised to see a little girl in a light orange dress, the same color as the sunset he used to see in his airplane when he was a pilot, was clinging to his leg. He looked around, not seeing any adult in sight to indicate they were the child’s guardian.
He furrowed his brows, a little in annoyance, as he was not prepared to suddenly be grappled with the responsibility of a lost child. He knelt down lower, and immediately, he startled as he took in the little girl’s appearance, a near perfect carbon copy of you, but the eyes—he stared into sweet little violet eyes that mirrored his own, seeing his shocked face reflected in these orbs. The girl looked up at him with curiosity, the wind swaying her short bob while a little yellow chunky cartoon airplane hairclip held her side bangs in place.
Suddenly, she started tearing up, breaking Caleb out of his trance and for the first time in a while, he felt panicked, unsure of what to do. The girl started to cry and Caleb immediately lifted her up, her head resting onto his shoulder as he rubbed her back and soothed her.
He shushed her gently, his caregiver instinct reignited after years of dormancy. “Why are you crying, sweetheart?” he asked her gently, his soothing voice a complete opposite to the tone he used as colonel.
The girl sobbed. She looked so young, Caleb realized, surmising that she probably had barely started learning to speak.
“Are you lost?” he asked in that same tender tone despite knowing the child would be unable to answer him. He continued, “You miss your mommy, don’t you?”
He rubbed her back again, wondering with trepidation if this child’s mother was who he thought it would be. For just a second, his heart stopped when he felt the little girl gripping the fabric of his uniform with her small hands. Quickly, he recomposed himself.
“It’s alright,” he whispered, his hand smoothed the back of her hair. “Let’s go look for your Mommy, alright?”
“Ma...ma…” the girl struggled to say. She rubbed her face against Caleb’s shoulder, and he smiled gently, unbothered that his once pristine uniform was now covered in a child’s snot.
“Okay, mama,” he repeated, “I’ll help you find your mama, sweetheart.”
When he was just about to turn around to head back to the café, he froze again, hearing a familiar voice he hadn’t heard in years. He could feel his heart beating against his chest, actually feeling every heavy thump as the seconds passed and the voice grew closer, a name cried out—the little girl’s.
The child in his arms wriggled, and cried louder, seeing her mother over Caleb’s shoulder. “Mama! Mama!”
Stiffly, Caleb knelt lower and gently set the girl down to her feet, barely registering as the child toddled passed him to her mother.
A completely different feminine voice called out, angry. “Were you trying to kidnap a child in broad dayli—”
Caleb stood up and turned around, his face pale.
“Cale…Caleb?” You stared in shock, feeling like you were seeing his ghost again. Again.
“Mama…Mama…!” Your daughter nuzzled her face against your chest as you held her. You broke out of your trance and instantly redirected your attention to your child. You quickly soothed her, well aware that Caleb’s eyes were locked on you, his face just as shocked as yours but for entirely different reasons. Once the little girl calmed down you passed her off to your companion, saying, “Tara, take her back to the café.”
Tara looked at you worriedly, her eyes darting to Caleb with suspicion. One look into Caleb’s eyes, seeing that same, perfect shade of purple, and the young woman quickly understood the situation. She nodded quietly and took the girl from you. “Come on, sweetie, auntie Tara is going to buy you a cupcake, okay?”
You waited until Tara and your daughter were out of sight. You couldn’t look at him. You wanted to look at him, to make sure your eyes were not deceiving you, to make sure that this was not an illusion, not a cruel, mocking figment of your imagination. But you couldn’t. You felt cowardly in that instance, being afraid of the truth. Afraid of his reaction. Of everything.
“You were…you were pregnant?” he questioned, feeling a wave of guilt washed over him.
Just hearing those words made you realized this was him. This was Caleb, the man you thought was taken away from you. Again.
Suddenly, you broke down crying and you looked up at him with tears running down your cheeks.
“Caleb, you dummy,” you sobbed, “You fucking dummy!”
He gasped, unprepared when you rushed at him and started beating his chest half-heartedly with your small fists as you continued to sob and curse him over and over again. He let you carry out your anger, let you punished him as you saw fit in this moment, but when the punches weakened, he gently grabbed your wrists, lowering them to your sides before his arms wrapped around you in comfort, his apologies immediate.
“Yeah,” he agreed in that ever familiar soft and gentle tone reserved only for you, “I am a fucking dummy.”
You sniffled against his chest, gripping tightly the lapel of his coat.
The afternoon passed slowly, initially tensed and awkward, but eventually all of the missing pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and you both struggled to come to terms with the picture of the missing years. You peered at the man to your side, seeing Caleb hunched over, his cap in his lap, looking much like a sinner struggling to come to terms with his wrongs.
“You didn’t know,” you whispered after a while, wanting to break this stifling silence. You reached for his arm, but he tensed before his shoulders slumped again.
“That’s no excuse,” he said, looking up at you. He started to reach for your cheek, hesitating at the last second, as if he was afraid that you would recoil from his touch. He started to pull back but you grabbed at his hand, guiding it to your cheek. He stared in shock as you nuzzled your face against his palm, and you gazed at him with glistened eyes.
“You’re not allowed to die again,” you scolded him. “Promise me that.”
He nodded numbly, his voice clear and steady. “I promise,” he said, repeating in a more hushed, firm tone, “I promise.”
He leaned forward, guiding your lips to his, his words still repeating in between breath. You let him drown you in his kisses, let yourself dizzied and relent to his feverish promises. When your lips parted, just a few centimeters, his warm breath grazed over your trembling lips before he pressed another kiss to your forehead.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I... will you…”
You looked up, seeing the struggles in his violet eyes. He appeared to hesitate again, unsure of what right he had to seek your forgiveness, wondering if he was overstepping the boundary between the two of you.
You gently coaxed him, seeing relief washed over his guilty features. “Will I what?”
“Will you…let me make things right?” he asked, “Let me…earn your forgiveness. I…please…”
He almost wanted to say, I can’t lose you again but the words died at his lips. He, of all people, had no rights to utter such words in your presence. He looked so defeated, beaten down to the point he no longer recognized himself anymore.
You took his hand, just like you always seemed to do, and you pulled him to his feet, to his surprise. He gazed at you questionably, his heart stopping at your words.
“Caleb,” you said his name so sweetly, “I want you to meet…our daughter.”
The summer air was warm even as the sky darkened, and stars after stars appeared above to illuminate the world below. The gentle breeze ruffled Caleb’s hair as he stared down at the sleeping girl in his arms. Maybe it was because she was still so young and impressionable, or perhaps she could already sense who he was to her, but the girl clung to him immediately, already feeling safe and protected in his presence.
His heart felt heavy, overwhelmed by guilt, a feeling of failure, and also of self-loathing, but as he gazed down at his daughter, another feeling stirred, just as intense but much more forgiving. He didn’t think he could feel such love as he did now as he peered down at the sleeping girl, nuzzled against him on his lap, peacefully slumbering away.
He wondered what she was dreaming of as he admired how much she resembled her mother. Hesitantly, he let his finger caressed her cheek, in complete, silent awe at how soft and delicate her skin was. He was almost afraid of hurting her, feeling a need to protect her just as he protected her mother. He looked up at you, his cheeks and ears reddening when he realized you had been laughing at his expense.
“It’s alright,” you told him amid your giggles.
“You’re laughing at me.”
“You deserve it, you big dummy.”
He let out a huff, in mock annoyance, but he agreed with you. “Alright,” he conceded, “I deserve it.”
“Do you want to begin your path to seeking forgiveness from us?” you asked him, a playful, teasing lilt in your voice, unmissed by Caleb as he raised a brow in curiosity.
“Just like that?” he questioned, confused by your leniency with him.
You nodded. “You still love me, right?”
“I’ve never stopped,” he said, his solemn words had you blushing against your better judgment, your heart quickening when he looked at you so lovelorn. You quickly composed yourself, returning to your mischievousness from seconds ago.
“You love her, right?” you asked, your eyes shifting to your sleeping daughter in his arms.
He sighed, mesmerized. “So much already,” he whispered, and again, you found yourself softening, touched by his sincerity.
“Okay, we’ll forgive you,” you answered, catching Caleb’s attention as he looked at you almost bemused by your easygoing attitude. “First step.”
“Which is?”
“You have to make us your specialty,” you said, laughing at Caleb’s look of complete bewilderment unfit for a colonel of his status. Clearly, you had blindsided him completely with this first condition. You clarified with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes, “You have to make your braised chicken wings.”
He stared at you as if not comprehending your words. You laughed and leaned closer to him, your head resting on his shoulder. “I ate a lot of braised chicken wings while pregnant,” you said, reminiscing to that lonely period in your life without his presence. You reached over and brushed your daughter’s flyaway hair out of her face, continuing softly, “But they weren’t as good as yours.”
Caleb let out a huff of breath, a soft, resigned laugh as he readjusted his arm, letting it wrapped around you as he pulled you closer into his embrace. He leaned over and kissed the top of your head. “Okay,” he answered, “I take it she also likes braised chicken wings then?”
You leaned into him, nodding once. “She’ll love yours more,” you said, and then looked up, your heart quickening again as you gazed into his beautiful violet eyes, grateful that your daughter had chosen to inherit this sole feature from her father. Breathlessly, you uttered softly, your words for his ears only, “She’ll love you.”
“And you?” he whispered back, that same hesitancy still prominent in his tone. He looked at you expectantly as he asked, “Do you still love me?”
“I’ve never stopped,” you echoed his words back to him, continuing in that same hushed tone, “I’ll always love my dummy Caleb.”
“Alright,” he said, his voice resigned, holding you just a bit tighter, as if he was afraid this was a cruel, taunting dream he would wake up from.
As Caleb watched your eyes closed, he looked down, eyes darting from you to his daughter, and he wondered if he deserved any of this. In the warm summer night, surrounded by the blossoming blue and pink and white hydrangeas, he silently apologized for his mistakes, promising that for the remainder of his life, he would become a better man, deserving of both of you.
Just like the little boy from long ago, once he had made a promise to you, he would never break it.
He swore it on his life.
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mattslolita · 5 months ago
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꒰ dealer!chris sturniolo ꒱ ⟡ headcanons !
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⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺
꒰ SFW! ꒱
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ have met bambi at some house party — you was a friend of matt's, so he was only somewhat aware of your existence; real sweet and innocent, you don't know the first thing about any drugs. you're in the bathroom trying to escape the noisy atmosphere around yourself, when chris stumbles in on you, a joint hanging lazily at the edge of his lips.
"woah, can you knock next time?!"
"m'sorry didn't know anyone was in here...hey what you doin' in here, anyway? s'your friends at?"
"matt's downstairs talking to some girl, i don't know-"
"matt? you know my brother? wait, aht, i got it, know who you are, now...y'eyes, got like a uh, bambi thing goin' on, y'know? gonna call you bambi, yeah?"
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ never let bambi touch any drugs — he's dead set on making sure you prolong the innocence about you in that aspect.
"not even one hit? c'mon chris-"
"y'know the rules bambi, s'don't even try it. y'not takin' no hits of shit."
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ chris keeps pink rolling papers, because bambi likes the color and it reminds him of your pink ribbons you wear in your ponytails.
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ have a specific playlist for when he takes bambi on deals with him — he's got dominic fike and marina playing throughout the car as you hum contently.
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ have a glove compartment full of lollies and other sweets for when you're on deals with him. the sight of bambi's lips carelessly wrapped around a cherry lolly has his mind whirling.
"got any suckers for me today?"
"y'know where to find em', doll."
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ spoil bambi all the time — he's buying you clothes, perfumes, and any little thing that reminds him of you.
"this top is cute, but i don't-"
"yeah, put it in the basket."
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ not have a label on your relationship — bambi's a little naive and thinks might call you his, but he's not trying to label what you have going on any time soon.
"yo, isn't she your girlfriend? she's always with you."
"girlfriend? s'not my girlfriend, nah...she's my girl though, y'get me? not datin' or no shit, jus' my girl..."
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ always have bambi sat on his lap at parties — his hand drums in the innermost flesh of your thigh as he massages you, whilst the other hand diligently distributes to the awaiting palms of people.
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ mad dog the fuck out of anyone who looks at bambi the wrong way — especially when you takes you on deals, he's seething with anger when a customer gets particularly too close to you.
"nice to see you, sweetheart, hopin' i'll see you more-"
"get the fuck away from her man, or i'm knockin' ya ass out where you stand."
"chris, seriously?"
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ send bambi random fit checks + snaps to keep you updated when you aren't with each other. likewise, he makes you send the same back so he can keep track of where you are when he's not with you.
"new shirt, you like it?"
"it looks so good on you, baby!" ( he'd never admit baby drives him wild. )
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ be affectionate to bambi in the most random ways — he's either got his arm slung around her, massaging her shoulder or he's got your legs resting atop of his own, massaging those whilst you scroll on your phone.
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ always be kissing on bambi — forehead, cheek, arms, legs, anywhere he sees fit, really.
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ make bambi wear his clothes when you stay the night at his place — he'll never admit that he loves the idea of having you in them, yet he can't resist the urge to smile when you're giggling sweetly about wearing them.
"i love this jersey! can i keep it baby, please?"
"y'know what, go head' sweetheart. looks good on you..."
꒰ NSFW! ꒱
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ be extremely possessive in bed, especially if you're batting your eyelashes a little too much at a customer.
"he could never fuck you like this doll, could he?"
"f-fuck, no chris..."
"who's fuckin' pussy is this, huh? tell me who you fuckin' belong to."
"y-you, yours, fuck!"
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ love love love to give bambi backshots — you're at a party and he's horny? he's taking you upstairs to the bathroom, bending you over the sink.
"such a good fuckin' girl, takin' my cock like this..."
"look at yourself in the mirror while i fuck you, sweet girl..."
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ finger bambi in the passenger seat if you're getting too whiny and can't wait.
"please chris, need to feel you inside me..."
"so fuckin' impatient bambi, jus' can't wait? s'all you get, my fingers...make a mess on em' c'mon angel..."
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ definitely have a breeding kink — though, he knows damn well the idea of bambi getting pregnant scares him, so he keeps you with birth control.
"fuck, such a tight pussy...gon' make you a mama, yeah? wan' have my babies don't you, ma?"
"gonna look so pretty carryin' our fuckin' kids, fuck..."
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ love high sex with you — he's lazily thrusting up into you while you ride him, head thrown back in pure ecstasy, or
"ridin' me so well ma, look so pretty on top of me like this..."
✦ his lidded eyes watch in anticipation as you're down below on your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes while you suck him off.
"gah, shit mama, makin' me feel so good...keep fuckin' goin' thas my good girl..."
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ would love doggy — when you wear those short shorts around him, all he can think about is having your ass up in the air while he's pounding into you like there's no tomorrow.
✦ love missionary, too — it's a more intimate position, but he can't help wanting to see your fucked out expression while he's deep inside you, watching your ever changing expression while you feel him deep inside of you.
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ be a little bad at aftercare at first, but he's slowly getting the hang of it the more time he spends with you — he's cleaning you up and massaging you after you guys finish, and ordering food for the both of you whilst he smokes a joint for himself.
( lilly's corner 💌 )
dealer!chris are my roots guys, i'm gonna start writing for him again. dealer!chris & bambi!reader are my literal babies & i hope you guys enjoy them! 💌
@muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @guccifrog @fawnchives @cottoncandyswisherz
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morriemonnie · 16 days ago
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FREE FALLING ... !! 💘💌
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whichcouldmeanothing · 16 days ago
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You just had to rebut, didn't you? Now you might die.
Dimension 20: Dungeons and Drag Queens 2x02 "Through the Venomlands"
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rinsei · 10 months ago
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hope you feel better soon! take it slow and stay hydrated〜 sending positive energy and love your way! ♡૮ • ﻌ - ა
thank you nonnie <3 i just needed a break because writing suddenly felt so draining and i didn’t want to impulsively delete my entire blog haha but tysm to all of you who sent in messages, it made me feel sm better mwah
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shoko-ism · 2 months ago
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I’m thinking.
Based on Sylus’ myth - mc!reader, who after regaining your memories, is so scared to lose Sylus again that you gets constant nightmares of his death. Unable to sleep unless Sylus has you in his arms, constantly making sure that he’s alive and well; and not just a figment of your imagination. Sylus noticing how it’s taking a toll on you. Parched lips, bloodshot eyes with heavy eye bags - barely able to function as a person but always so caring and attentive to him. One of these nights with you in his arms, Sylus gets to witness you struggling with a painfully hard nightmare. Gently, he wakes you up and wipes away your tears as you sob into his arms. And now Sylus can reassure you that he’s not going anywhere, that he’s here to stay.
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yuwuta · 1 year ago
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satoru physically withers and crumbles every time you return his belongings. he doesn’t know how to tell you that he can only accidentally on purpose leave his glasses on your nightstand, or his jacket on your couch, or his shirt in your laundry so many times before he loses his mind. every time you don’t take he bait, he folds into himself and wonders why you don’t love him anymore and it costs him $22.50 to hear ieiri tell him to suck it up and use his words because he literally has to buy her company (and drinks).
but when you do take the bait, when you do wear his things, satoru thinks it’s all worth it. he can’t explain why it does what it does to him. it’s a sinister kind of possession he wants to have over you, knowing you’re your own person, free to do as you please, but also knowing you’re caged in him. it’s a lovesick kind of gooeyness that melts his heart seeing you fumble with the sleeves of a sweater that’s too long for you. it’s the vision of you seeing you drowning in him—in his clothes, in his things, in him, in him, in him. he’s selfish, he wants to consume you in as many ways as possible, wants you to drown in him, would die happily knowing you were one tenth as enraptured by him as he is with you. he doesn’t know how or why or when you gained so much power over him, but he doesn’t care, he doesn’t want you to ever stop, so if he has to keep pretending to leave his clothes and bags and glasses around then so be it.
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captain-hawks · 7 days ago
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no bc this has me heat bc like........ seeing everything. i can't i might explode.
18+
you're shy about it the first time.
because you can't understand why sylus would want this, what could possibly be attractive about watching you slip a hand between your legs, lips parted in concentration as you awkwardly try to find your way toward your climax. it's borderline mortifying wondering what you look like in the throes of solo pleasure.
you're not expecting it—
you don't realize—
(you have no idea what this will do to him.)
(what it will do to you.)
"don't hide from me, kitten," sylus murmurs, thumb gently brushing against your bare ankle as he urges you to part your legs. to let him see.
you hear it first, the way his breath goes a little ragged as you drag two fingers down the length of your damp slit.
"is this how you touch yourself when you're thinking of me?" he asks, voice a low rasp. "shyly?"
you breathe in through your nose at the blossom of pleasure ignited by stroking your thumb over your swollen clit.
his breath ghosts against the shell of your ear, "or are you eager? are you slick and shameless as you spread your thighs and imagine you're fucking me, rather than your delicate, pretty little fingers?"
"sylus," you whimper, forehead falling against his shoulder, spit-slick tongue gliding against your teeth as you slip a finger into your quivering heat.
he groans, and you turn to see him palming himself through his slacks, jaw tight. "though i'll admit it's quite difficult for me to imagine anything that compares to the way you feel around my cock."
you swallow, cunt stretching to accommodate a second digit, and your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek as a moan crawls up your throat.
"but the view certainly helps," he exhales, the heel of his palm digging into his erection.
"touch yourself, sylus," you whisper, dripping heat simmering in your gut when you watch him shudder as he wraps a hand around the length of his cock.
he looks at you then, eyes half-lidded and burning with need, the corner of his mouth turned upward. "tell me exactly how i should do it, kitten."
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bunnykoibito · 2 months ago
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control me control me control me control me control me control me control me control me control me control me control me control me control me c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜ c̸̛͕̯͂̐̓͗͊͛͝o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓️ṉ̵͓̬͈̞̥̭̥̇̓̔͋t̵̏͛̃̍́̈̚͜͝ŕ̶̛̰̱̈́̀́̑̿̾͛͂̈́͗̓̈́̒͘͝️o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉ m̶̥͇͈̣̏͑̿͑̃̈͛̕͠ẹ̷͓̺̰̽̍͛̉̐̔͋̓̚͜
I'm yours, right?
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