#But. I am not immune to childhood friends.

[moongothic]

do you have a crack theory so ridiculous it has no way of being true but it brings you so much joy, you still give it thought? :D

Honestly it's just the "Crocodile is 1/4th merman" thing. I don't know what it is about it but it sparks joy

Not really a crack theory but. IDK why, maybe it's just the abundant fanart I've seen that's given me brainrot, but I do genuinely love the idea that Crocodile and Mihawk knew each other as little kids and then just kinda grew apart/got separated for some reason or another. There's just something so incredibly precious to me about that concept and I love it to absolute death. Like I think about Baby Croc and Baby Hawk being a menace duo 'causing havoc wherever they go and I just

[wayfinderships]

Good evening gamers!! Hope you're all doing well!! As for me...I have 3 Yakuza Crushes now 😔 One of them if from Judgement though if that helps-

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

oh... so they used to be friends did they......

[shieldwife]

also worth saying that this is driving me to writing thg fanfic bc I'm genuinely pissed off, but my favourite way of engaging with thg isn't even with canon characters at this point. it's through thinking about two ocs I've had for years that I mentally refer to as "toxic fishermen yuri", and I'm incapable of writing extensively abt anything related to thg that doesn't involve them lol

[happi-tree]

sashannarcy?

Nonnie! hope you're having a wonderful day hehe 💗💗💗

i'm gonna do multiple bc they're ALWAYS in my brain. i have so many

naturally we gotta do death thrice drawn bc. a triptych in decay. if that doesn't describe whatever the hell is going on with these three over the course of the first 2 and a half-ish seasons i don't know what does!

i also think about this song with them a lot, especially during s3 when there's so much uncertainty and the world is in anarchy and the girls reflect on their relationships with each other, worrying that maybe things won't ever work out between them. whoopsies sorry for the angst!!!

moving on to something (slightly) less angsty (and also kpop) i also think about this song for them!!! so much!!! it happens to mention taking pictures and so i always associate this song with their little group photos 🥺 “you know what to do when I’m feeling down, down / don’t know what I’d do If you weren’t around, round” sure fits them imo!!!

okok last one!!! this song reminds me of timeskip sashannarcy specifically. it's about thinking of friends you haven't seen in awhile and. OUGH it hits every time 😭😭😭 to quote myself in my silly little notes app "you cannot convince me that the girls didn’t think longingly about each other even while they drifted apart. and then they ended up coming back together in the end. “greetings”. what the FUCK Mr. Braly. why am I tearing up writing this."

in conclusion i am soooooo sashannarcy biased and i miss them every day!!!!

Send me a ♫ + a character’s name and I will respond with a song (or multiple!!!) that reminds me of them. Send a ♫ + a ship and I will do the same.

[writerunnamed]

note: This is something I've wanted to write for a while but I am well aware that not everyone will be into it. There are a few stories I want to tell that aren't the norm so I decided to start this nameless blog to tell them. I am not tagging anyone, if you find it then you find it. xo Joel(stepdad), significant age gap, female reader. 18+ legal, reader is 20 (warnings: pov sex, Joel spits on the 😸, boobie play, really inappropriate dirty talk, an unused sex toy [will make an appearance in another chapter], female masturbation, daddy kink, unfit parent) 5.6k word count masterlist • series masterlist • part 2

He takes up so much space, and it wasn’t just physically. He took up space emotionally, mentally. Mentally most of all. Your thoughts always drifted back to him. Cyclical. An elliptical pattern making him the top of every list you’d go through in your head. He seemed to know it too, in a stoic, quiet, largely unsettling way. Older, attractive men tended to do that. 

It started during that in-between time, when summer, losing your job, and having to move back home pushed you to figure out what the fuck you actually wanted to do with your life seemed to come together like the planets aligning. The precipice of a turning point, a ticking clock counting down the days until your childhood bedroom would be turned into a gym, or an office, or a guest bedroom. The lukewarm welcome from your mother would ice over and you’d really have to get your shit together. 

Your mother was what people who didn’t know her would call ‘a free spirit’, what you called her, was a fucking mess. 

Your earliest memories consist of having to remind her to buy milk or to pay the bill because the electricity had turned off while watching cartoons in front of the tiny, living room tv. You’d had to remind her, in not so many words, that she was the mother, and you were the child. 

To your friends, she was the cool mom. The party mom. Your house was the place to be because she didn’t ask questions, she left her cigarettes unattended and didn’t mind if a few went missing. She kept the bar cart stocked, even if there was nothing but flies in the cupboard and nothing but half-empty condiment bottles in the fridge. Your friends loved it. 

She flirted with the boys your age, she gave sex tips to the girls. 

You smiled when they congratulated you on having the cool mom, and when they all went home, you retreated and pretended to be happy. 

Joel settled her down. Met her in a bar and moved in quick. He came into the picture when you were fifteen and you were almost sure he’d be just like the rest of the lovers she’d taken over the years. You’d given the whole thing six months. Half a year for him to see what a fucking disaster she was. Six months to be a fucking creep, to cheat or get cheated on. 

The only differences you could clock at first were that he was self-employed, and marginally better looking than his predecessors.

He was firmer though, less malleable than the others she’d brought around, he seemed immune to her charms and that only inflamed her. It made her desperate for his approval and his attention. She would throw a tantrum, or play one of her mind games but he’d never rise to her bait. He was patient for the most part, until he hit his breaking point and his temper reared its head. A temper only she seemed to bring out in him. 

To you, it was pathetic. 

He didn’t try with you though, there was no flattery or strong hand, only a silent respect. In a sense, he treated you as the adult, and her as the child. It worked for you, if he’d expected you to call him dad he would have been laughed at mercilessly and he seemed to know this. 

The disturbing part was his respect and his healthy avoidance of you worked its own kind of magic. It made him an enigma, made you curious as to what he got out of the whole thing. A home, sure. A woman who was obsessed with him, yes. Sex–yes. You heard it enough for it to turn your stomach. By the sounds of it, he knew what he was doing.

The thought sickened the healthy part of your brain. The other part though, the part flooding your body with hormones, making it come to life with curiously intense sexual feelings, that part wanted to know what it was he was so good at. How could he pull those sounds out of anyone? It was easier to imagine him with some faceless woman. 

It was shameful to imagine yourself. 

The thought–although enough to fuel a desperate journey of self-exploration–always filled you with an insurmountable guilt. 

For those first few years you could barely look at him. Your mother took it as a healthy dose of teenage rebellion. That only aggravated you more. She never asked questions, never dug to see what the cause of your obvious distaste for her partner was about and so again, you retreated. He, however, kept to the outs of your path. He followed your lead, he let you control any and every part of all of your interactions. He didn’t ask questions. He kept the lights on. He kept the fridge full. 

He burrowed his way in, whether you liked it or not. 

When you turned eighteen, you moved out. He helped, did his ‘fatherly’ duties and moved you into the apartment, he urged your mother to take you on an extensive grocery trip, spoke to your landlord about the safety of the building. You supposed you should have been grateful, you should have said thank you, given him some sort of acknowledgement that you appreciated his help but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Instead you said your mumbling goodbyes, and promptly closed the door on them. Neither of them complained. 

The euphoria of venturing out on your own had lost its shine depressingly quick. A string of chronically unserious boyfriends came and went, the rent climbed higher than you could keep up with, and while already living paycheck to paycheck, you lost your job. Your cellphone had taken the brunt of your frustration at having to call your mother, begging her to let you come back home while you got back on your feet a little more than two years after you’d left. 

Your teeth gnawed at your lips, your fingernails dug into the skin around your cuticles in the attempt to keep your voice sweet and pleading, in the end it was his voice that you’d heard in the background, telling–no, commanding her to say yes. That he would be your champion twisted at your insides. Maybe a small, healthy part of you hoped he’d put up a fight, tell you that you were too old to be coming back home and that you had to figure it out on your own like an adult. 

A healthy part of you hoped that he’d save you again, only from yourself. Hanging up with a heavy, resigned sigh, you set about starting the trek home, ignoring the swirling mess of annoyance, confusion, and perverse glee in your stomach. 

-

The first few days were spent in a depressive episode, a seemingly inescapable loop of sleeping in late, leaving your room only when the house was empty to raid the kitchen for something to eat, scrolling mindlessly–blindly–on your phone and then staying up way too late only to do it all over again. 

They didn’t bother you, but if the annoyed sighs and narrowed eyes from your mother were anything to go by, the talk was coming soon. After the third day of the cycle, you circumvent it and wake up early-ish to shower and dress in something other than ratty old sweats long forgotten by an ex you couldn’t quite remember. 

You came down to find Joel sitting at the kitchen table. His eyes tracked the lines of you, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. 

Your heart leapt. He should have been at work by now. 

“Good morning.” It came out croaky, your voice almost reluctant to come out. 

“Mornin’.” His hair was slicked back, the gray almost sparkling in the golden light. You fiddled with the hem of your shirt. His eyes were so intense, you found yourself stuck in place, like a deer in headlights and that ever present, deep-seeded anger reared its head. It was irrational that he should frustrate you so much with his calm presence. 

“Coffee’s fresh, if you want some.” He jut his chin out to the pot, lowering his eyes to his paper once more. Once his gaze had shifted, you found you could breathe again. You mumbled a thanks and moved to pour yourself a cup, thankful, if unsure why, to focus on something concrete instead of abstract self-reflection.

“Your mama’s gon’ be late tonight. I thought I could pick up a pizza on the way home.” He says it offhand and again, your heart races. 

“Whatever.” You scrunch your face up in annoyance, it sounded like such a bullshit, teen response. He doesn’t comment on it, and that somehow makes it worse. You beat yourself about it as you root around in the fridge for the milk. The cereal you liked was in the top cupboard, and you’re not quite tall enough to reach it. 

You heard his chair scoot back and then suddenly he’s there, beside you, pressed up tight. You follow the long line of his throat as he stares up, reaching the box with ease while one big, warm hand lands on your lower back. He smells like the laundry detergent your mother insists on buying mixed with something else. Manly, smoky, with coffee laced through. Your cunt clenches nonconsensually as he stands there and stares down at you, his whole front pressed against your side, his hand still holding your lower back. Your mouth hangs open, stupidly, and he raises an eyebrow again forcing something to kickstart deep in your gut. 

“You okay there babygirl?” The endearment feels unwholesome.

It triggers something strange, strengthening the underlying conflict for him. There’s a lilt in his tone you don’t like, maybe because deep down you like it too much. Maybe you don’t want to admit that, or analyze anything about what the fuck is happening in your body. In your psyche. 

“Yeah.” You step out of his bubble, barely managing not to trip over yourself in your haste to get away and put a healthy distance between you. 

“Yes. Thank you.” You take a deep breath, pressing your lips together tight in what you hope to God is a neutral expression. 

He lets out a bemused huff through his nose, a mischief in his eyes shining out at you that you’ve never seen directed at you. You’ve seen it used on your mom. You’ve seen her go giggly and flirty whenever he looked at her like that. A half-formed escape plan starts to form but he saves you from the need, he puts his things in the dishwasher, and nods his head in goodbye. 

You practically hold your breath until you hear his truck rumble out of the driveway, and down the street. 

-

You manage to avoid him for a few days, staying out late catching up with friends, or feigning a need for rest. You’ve convinced your mother that your days are now spent job hunting, and for the most part they are. You leave in the morning, avoiding any and all contact and you get home late, creeping up the stairs much like you did in your teens even though you’d really never needed to. Your mother never enforced a curfew, and when Joel joined the picture, he didn’t pry. 

The luck didn’t last though, you got over-confident. He was sprawled out on the sofa, up uncharacteristically late one night when you padded through the house. 

“You’re up late.” You quickly check the accusatory tone, “Don’t you have to get up early?” Better, it comes out more concerned than annoyed and he nods. He wore a threadbare t-shirt, the fabric of it having been through the wash too many times to keep its shape. Light, gray sweats were stretched almost obscenely tight over his spread thighs, pooling at his crotch from being shoved up by the couch. 

“Couldn’t sleep. Come sit, we can watch some tv.” He pats the seat next to him and despite the deep desire to retreat into the Joel-free haven of your bedroom, you cannot seem to disobey him. 

You settle beside him on the couch, a little further away than was necessary. He chuckles softly. 

“I ain’t gonna bite you, girl. Not unless you ask nicely.” 

You pretend you don’t hear it, choosing instead to compartmentalize whatever game he’s playing and stare at the screen. He flips through the channels, settling on one thing for a few minutes before moving to something else until he finds a movie that’s already close to midway. There’s an electricity in the air, something about him galvanizing the space between you, charging it enough to make the hairs on your arms stand on end. You frown to yourself, barely paying attention while fighting an increasingly confusing mental battle. Why is it so hard to be around him? Why does he inspire such scorn? Is it scorn at all?

You rub at your eyes, scrubbing your hands down your face in a feeble attempt to wipe the slate clean. 

He’s just a man, a man your mother had chosen and for better or worse they seem to work. She is happy with him and he is seemingly happy with her, why then is it so hard to accept him for what he is? Something slithers around in your brain, something that laughs darkly, something pulsing through the network of thoughts and ideas that threatens to crack open your subconscious and throw it right in your face. 

“Well now, ain’t that somethin’?” You pull your hands away from your face to see a very explicit scene playing out on the screen. Heat floods every inch of your body. 

“Almost looks like she’s enjoyin’ herself.” He leaves it on, and you feel stuck, your body betraying you yet again to see the way the woman on screen moans wantonly while under a very handsome man. You let out a non-committal sound, teetering on the edge of madness. You scold yourself, you are an adult, an adult that has had sex before and this isn’t even real. 

“Looks like fake bullshit to me.” The strength in your voice lends credence to the illusion that you aren’t affected. He laughs, calm and completely at ease and that only pulls the anger to the forefront again. 

“They can’t show the real stuff on these channels. If it were real, he’d be doin’ what she needs.” 

“And what’s that?” It comes out before you can stop it. 

“Well,” He smiles to himself, winning a duel you hadn’t even known you were fighting. 

“If it were real, he’d be pressin’ on her clit, he’d be makin’ sure she felt every inch of him and make her take his cock like a good girl.” You let out a heavy breath, half shocked, half grateful it wasn’t a whimper. 

Warning bells go off in your head, just as a heartbeat starts in your cunt because you can see it. You can see him. His face twisted up in pleasure but cocky, his hips moving, his thumb dipped into your mouth and then swirling around your clit. He smiles at catching you looking at his hands and you want to yell at him. You want to smack him across the face and kick him in the balls for saying something like that to you, his partner's daughter, but you don’t. 

Your body almost catapults you out of your seat. Barely unintelligible words come out, something about needing sleep, about being tired and then you hightailed it out of there like a bat out of hell. 

The shower was cold enough to make your teeth chatter, but it did nothing to cool the heat blooming in your core and it was with a terrifying desperation that you ground against your fingers. The slick pooling at the mouth of your pussy was enough to feel even with the water washing everything away except your shame. 

You bit your tongue to keep from moaning out the taboo and entirely inappropriate name you were dying to say out loud. His firm thighs spread on that couch filled your mind, the calloused, work-roughened hands you could practically feel on your hips, on your thighs. You could feel them holding and spreading your legs open so he could make you make those same noises you’d heard over the years. Make you take it like a good girl, his good girl. 

You came with a shudder, sagging against the chilly tile. You warmed the water with a sigh, disappointed and ashamed with yourself, trying, and failing, to put the whole thing out of your mind. 

-

You doubled down on avoiding him after that. 

Your mother worked most of the time but when she was home, things were easier. He reverted to the healthy avoidance, the proverbial disinterest that she didn’t seem to have a problem with. You still heard them some nights, the bed creaking, throaty cries, deep grunts but now they haunted you in a different way. Now you heard his words on that couch and couldn’t help but picture all manner of unsavory things that both disgusted and thrilled you. 

Being unemployed didn’t help. There was nothing to keep you out of the house most of the day, and there were only so many places that would accept you looking for a job in person. 

There was only so much time you could spend with friends too, they had their own lives and jobs and relationships. Too busy to save you from unwanted free time. 

Old habits resurface, and you retreat within yourself while pushing yourself harder. A job would fix things enough to help, you could save up enough money to leave for good and take yourself out of the equation. 

-

The powers that be momentarily take pity on you, and after what seems like a lifetime's worth of job hunting you blessedly get a call back. It’s a part time job, but at this point beggars can’t exactly be choosers. It’s a steady, if insufficient source of income that hadn’t been available to you before. Determined, you buckle down, you channel every guidance counselor you’ve ever had and ace the fuck out of that interview.

It’s not taxing work, but you put your head down and focus with the hope that if you worked hard enough, if you made a good enough impression, made yourself indispensable they’d throw you enough shifts to make up a full time job. 

It helps. Time spent away from the house, from your mothers dried up welcome, from Joel altogether genuinely helps. You feel a bit lighter, less guilty, less prone to imagine the unimaginable. You find comfort in the absence of self-imposed temptation. There is peace in the mindless work, in the life outside of the house that no longer feels like a home. 

It's a double edged sword though, because at the end of every shift, the luck–the peace–runs out. If being at work and out of the house is a respite, returning home only thickens the tension. Time spent outside the house only sharpens the discomfort, clarifies the glaring wrongness of it all when you enter it at the end of the day. What it all is, you won’t name. That way madness lies. Issue is, with every interaction, with every chance encounter in the hallway, or living room, every second spent with him in the kitchen watching his lips touch the rim of his mug the thing inside grows. Parts of him fill the corners of your mind. The curve of his shoulders filling out the flannel shirts he favors. The fullness of his bottom lip when he purses them, something he does while squinting at the paper that you’re almost sure he isn’t aware of. His neck, his hands, the dimple in his cheek when he laughs at something really funny. 

These things jump out, innocent as they may be, but other not so innocent things start to creep in. The bulge in his jeans is a mental mine, it lies in wait and every so often when you think you’ve avoided it, it detonates and you catch yourself staring, both ashamed and so inappropriately curious it eats away at you like acid. 

What you needed was something to fill the emptiness, both emotionally and physically. So you did what any modern, adult woman would do; you bought a sex toy. 

Nothing too crazy, or expensive. After perusing the site for a while you finally settled on a plain, non-threatening dildo. Nothing too big, nothing noisy, just something to be able to focus on, something to use while imagining someone giving you what you need. You ignored that dark thing inside that hissed his name, shooed it away and ordered the package for express delivery. With your mom constantly working, and Joel keeping to himself you figured it wouldn’t be an issue. Neither of them would question a package addressed to you. 

You still aren’t sure whether or not you’d do it all over again had you known the Pandora’s box that little package would open. 

You all but rushed home after work. All day, you’d imagined the relief that toy would bring. You imagined yourself using it in the shower, steam swirling as you took your pleasure. You imagined yourself laying in bed in the safety of the dark, setting a towel down on your chair and riding it to your heart's content. 

Joel’s truck is in the driveway when you pull in, but it’s secondary to the excitement at the chance to sequester yourself with your new best friend and so when you walk into the house, you don’t give him much attention. Until he opens his mouth. 

“You got a package today babygirl. I put it on your bed.” He sits on his spot on the sofa, a funny little smile on his face. A bad feeling swells in your chest, and you look up the stairs before meeting his eyes again. 

“Thanks.” You drop your bag on the little bench near the front door, trying, and failing to keep the nervous feeling out of your voice. He nods, and you make your way up, stopping yourself from taking the stairs two at a time. 

Ice flows through your veins when you see the package is open. 

He’d opened your package, he knew what you’d bought. 

Blood pounds in your ears as you stand there, limbs cold and numb at the realization that he saw it. He saw it. He opened it, and he placed it here, on the very place you fantasized about using it. Sweat beaded on your brow, the bottom of your stomach fell out of your ass as you stood there, barely feeling the soft, worn carpet under your feet. 

“Little small, f’you ask me.” His voice at the mouth of your room made your head twist fast enough to hurt your neck. You hadn’t heard him follow you up the stairs, hadn’t heard him open your door and lean against the frame, arms crossed in haughty amusement. 

“Why would you open my package?” You clutched at it, as though he could forget what he’d seen if you held it tightly enough. 

“I didn’t open it on purpose, I’m expectin’ somethin’ and I didn’t read the name.” He pushes away from the door frame, making his way closer and it’s like the air thins as the space between you shrinks.

“I mean, I could tell you been frustrated, but this doesn’t seem like it’s gon’ help much.” He reaches out, and takes the package from you. You watch him do it, watch him, frozen as he plucks it from your hands and takes the toy out. 

“This all you can take?” He holds it, contemptuously–pityingly. 

You wanted to snatch it out of his hands, the dimming voice of reason urges you to push him out of your room and remind him that he needs to keep a healthy distance but you say nothing, you stand there, and watch him. He puts it all down on your dresser, before stepping a little closer, close enough for you to have to crane your neck up to look into his eyes. 

“No boyfriends around to give you what you want?” His hand comes up, the tips of his fingers sliding across the apple of your cheek, slipping down until his thumb pressed against the cushion of your bottom lip. 

“No one around to give you what you obviously need?” He steps a little closer, until your bodies meet. This is wrong, your mind screams it but your body is frozen under his eyes, under his touch. That part, the frozen part is cheering, it’s running victory laps as it floods your cunt with slick in preparation for something unholy. 

That same, writhing, traitorous thing whispers that this is your chance, the house is empty and your body obeys. You look your fill, you take in the curve of his nose and the furrow in his brow. His eyes are black as a crow's wing, lust-blown and completely focused on your parted lips and your shallow panting. 

Adrenaline spikes and you do something you cannot take back. You rise on your tip-toes and press your mouth to his. 

He hums into it, smiling and once again you get that feeling that you’d made the exact move he’d expected you to. A vague, but fleeting inkling that you were just a pawn on his chessboard. 

At any other time you would have stepped away and repented, ate yourself alive with guilt but his hands pulled you closer, his tongue swiped at the seam of your mouth and you opened up for him. That only made it all the more real, the taste of his tongue in your mouth, feeling his hands lower to hold onto your ass. 

The rational part of you shrinks down to nothing, and that other part, the wrong part–it swells and preens under his hands. He pulls away, and embarrassingly, you chase his mouth in a daze. 

“Oh honey, you’re just dyin’ for it aren’t you?” He herds you towards your tiny bed, the twin mattress that has been the stage for every taboo fantasy about this man, your stepfather. You shoo the word away with a shiver. 

“It’s wrong-” You almost whisper, but you don’t push him away, you let him lay you down in that bed and he laughs. 

“It is, isn't it?” He pulls at the hem of your shirt, you raise your arms for him and the picture of it is wrong, daddy taking off your clothes. The thought, the word,  should disgust you but it only pulls your hands to him. You join in, and pull his shirt up and off, biting your lip at the broadness of him. You take in each freckle, the sprinkling of hair on his chest, the dip of his throat calling out for your tongue like a siren. 

He presses his lips to yours again, licking into your mouth obscenely. Unseemly. 

“You been wantin’ this for a long time, haven’t you babygirl?” He pulls your bra off, and the shock of cold air hardens your nipples. He bites his lip to see it, unable to stop himself from flattening his tongue against a hardened bud. A sound you’ve never let yourself make out loud in this room fills the space between you and that slithering thing luxuriates. 

He moves, languidly, unhurried to the other breast and holds the plump of it in his big hand and sucks at the second bud, sucks as much of the peak as he can into his mouth, breathing through his nose while you slowly spiral into madness.

When he lets go, he presses a kiss to your nipple and his facial hair tickles your skin. 

He pulls your leggings off along with your underwear in one go and the reality of it all hits you when the air hits your soaked core. That’s when the urge to put a stop to it is the clearest, when he kneels between your legs and spreads them wide, stares at the place where he’s already filled a million times in your mind. The place that’s drenched at the mere thought of him. 

“Joel-” You start, but he pushes your legs up, folding you and then he lets a glob of spit fall from his mouth slowly, aiming it, a bullseye right on the lips of your cunt. It’s too much, too filthy and you let out a whimper. 

“I think you wanna call me somethin’ else right now.” He undoes his belt and his jeans, keeping his eyes on where his saliva slides down over the open mouth of your cunt, down towards your asshole. He pulls his cock out and part of you shatters. Your eyes flit to the toy sitting on your dresser, your eyes flit to the open door of your bedroom. 

“Don’t worry, your mama ain’t gonna be home for a while.” He smiles, conspiratorially. It's too real, it’s too hypnotic, seeing him there with his cock in his hand while your legs already ache from holding them up and open. He slides the blunt end of it through the mess he’s caused, through his spit and he groans at the sight of it. 

Your heart races so hard to feel him there, that you see the pulse of it in your vision. 

“Deep breath baby.” he warns before slipping inside the tight fist of your pussy, the size of him making you gasp. This is it, there’s no coming back from this and right now, with him seated deep, his groin pressed up tight and the tip of his cock kissing your womb you cannot even think of why you’d ever care.

This is where he's meant to be. This is where you need him. 

“Oh baby, that’s so good huh?” He thrusts shallowly, pulling out a little more than halfway before shoving his hips forward again. You don’t really know how to form words, you don’t know how to take in what’s happening. This is Joel, your step-dad, fucking you in the bed you grew up in. One hand sits heavy on your shin, holding it, the other slides up and holds onto your breast. 

“Look how fuckin’ wet this little pussy is for me,” he moans the words, “you like daddy fuckin’ you?” He thrusts harder and you moan despite the word hitting you in the stomach like a big drop on a rollercoaster. He shouldn’t say that, shouldn’t call himself that, not now. 

“No-” it doesn’t come out like you mean it to, it sounds wrong, like a caress. 

“No? But I think you do-” He leans forward, keeping his pace while pressing his chest to yours, his mouth all but lining up and despite your bullshit protest, you hitch your knees high on his ribs to make room because if he stopped you’d probably die. 

“I think you want me to be your daddy, don’t you baby, it’s okay, I want to be.” He speeds up and the sounds between your legs are so wet, so filthy. 

“You can say it, I want you to say it.” He holds himself up, his elbows caging in your skull and before you can complain or moan or cry he sticks his tongue down your throat again. Your hands finally join the fray and you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him tight to you. 

“Come on baby, say it for me, tell me how good daddy fucks you.” You moan, closing your eyes while your cunt floods him with wave after wave of slick, enough to drip down your ass and onto your bed, down his balls. Enough for it to soak the curls at the base of him. 

“Look at me when I’m fuckin’ you honey.” His hips speed up and it's hard now, his thrusts making your bounce, hitting a part of you that toy would never touch in a million years. 

You open your eyes, and look at him above you, sweat beading on his hairline. Never has he looked more fucking appealing than he does right then. The word is there, in your mouth and you know it’ll taste sweeter than anything in this world. 

The wrong thing wins.  

“Yes daddy.” You moan it, and the shameful thing sets off fireworks in your being, he smiles, and tucks his head into the damp crook of your neck, feeding his lovely filth right into your ear. 

“That’s my babygirl, that’s it, fuck baby you take it better than your mama.” Something inside recoils at that, but something else, another facet of that fucked up thing inside rejoices.

“Let me hear you say it again, say it when you come.” He licks a hot stripe up your neck. His words are a filthy groan, something to tuck away for later.

He reaches down, pressing his thumb to your clit just like he said on that couch and you keen, the slip and the pressure enough to toss you over the edge with an almost painfully intense orgasm. 

“I’m coming, daddy.” It’s a shuddering whisper as your cunt clenches around him. 

He moves quickly, kneeling between your legs to pull out and then he’s stroking himself over your cunt. It’s still pulsing when he paints it in his come. You catch your breath as he tugs at himself a few more times, milking himself against you with a disturbingly familiar groan. 

The fog clears altogether too quickly. The lights are too bright, you’re naked, and he’s still got his jeans around his thighs while the guilt creeps into your veins, replacing the euphoria. 

What have I done? What have you made me do?

[orcelito]

Looking up the endings of devil survivor and it's like. Do I want to become the king of demons, or do I want to see more of the pretty songstress 🤔🤔🤔🤔

[earthtooz]

baby, would i still be your lover?

fluff with angst, 1k words, gn!reader celebrates their bday bc it's my bday today, reader likes pearls, childhood friends to lovers (?), ooc!al-haitham, conflict and resolving it, al-haitham's grandmother is featured.

The best way to describe yours and al-Haitham's friendship is... unusual.

Having known him since childhood, you cannot say that he has changed much over the years. When your parents brought him to his grandmother's house to hopefully give the young boy a chance to socialise with something other than academic journals, befriending him was not easy.

He dodged all conversation you tried to make, ignored all attempts you made to play tag with him, completely evaded your childlike innocence. He always was more mature than everyone else his age, or rather, always acted like it.

Most unusually, he had an uncanny streak of pushing everyone out of his life, and you were not immune to the imaginary lashes he strikes, eventually removing yourself from his life too out of frustration.

At seventeen, when an unforeseen tension had lodged itself between you and al-Haitham, it deteriorated your friendship. One day, he had taken his opinions too far and sharpened his words too much, you left the House of Daena tearful and too wounded to see him for a while. It creates a distance between you two, one that lasts for three years.

At twenty, you visit al-Haitham's grandmother for the last time, and she makes you promise something. She pleads you to take care of her grandson, that for years, he has been hoping for the rekindling of your friendship, and she asks of you to make his wish come to fruition.

You reach out to him a month later on impulse. He invites you to dinner and drinks at Lambad's Tavern, and for the preceding week, it mentally drains you to think about being alone with him again.

He is already there when you arrive, sitting with crossed legs and arms at an empty booth. Showing up later than him gives you time to admire how he has grown. Now freshly turned twenty-one, time has served him well. He has grown into his sharp, taut features, and the way his grey hair falls accommodates his features well, and his build is impressive for a scholar. You've heard from others that he's graduated with the highest honours, and has already been offered a job at the Akademiya.

When the conversation begins, you're relieved to find out that nothing has changed from when you were both seventeen and fumbling teenagers.

As the only person who has stayed in his life since his youth, there is a bond that somehow cannot be severed. You apologise for what happened at seventeen, he does too.

As dinner passes, one thing becomes abundantly clear: al-Haitham does not need someone to 'take care of him' like his grandmother asked. What he did need, however, was his childhood friend that always knew how to push his buttons, and perhaps that was your way of 'caring' for him.

"Y/n." al-Haitham's broad figure looms over your desk, causing you to pause the scribble of words and numbers that you were in the midst of writing. "With your birthday coming in less than a month, I went to review our personal channel for gifts you'd like."

"Have you now?" You rest your chin on your hand, looking up at him through your lashes.

He completely ignores your question. "A sango pearl necklace? From Watatsumi Island? Is that your only desire?"

"I am easy to please," you shrug.

"Perhaps you misunderstand me. Is there no other gift that you'd appreciate?"

"Is a pearl necklace not possible?"

"One from Fontaine would be more achievable. Watatsumi Island, however, given our geographical distance and the fact that Inazuma is only just beginning to open up its transnational-"

"-So it's not possible? Even for the Grand Sage?"

"Acting Grand Sage, and whilst it is not impossible, I came to review with you possible alternatives for gift ideas that would provide the same marginal benefit."

"I suppose I could think of something else," you tap your chin. "One day I'll get my hands on those pearls, do you see the way they shine so clearly? You could use them just to fix your makeup! Cold to the touch and a clearer reflection are what make pearls high quality."

"How fascinating," he responds flatly and you pout. "In other news, it's lunch time now, and you promised you'd pay for my next meal at Lambad's."

You huff, compiling your papers together and clipping them together. "I was hoping you'd forget."

(As always, when the meal is said and done, he doesn't actually allow you to pay.)

A month later, when the clock strikes midnight on the day of your birthday, there is a series of knocks at your door. Unsurprisingly, you're greeted by al-Haitham's handsome face, now softer without the makeup he wears to enhance his features, but still beautiful nonetheless.

In his hands, he holds a gift.

"Happy birthday, Y/n." He declares, straight to the point, and hands you the box. "I hope it is to your liking."

The unassuming packaging only adds to your shocked delight when you see the contents inside.

"Sango pearls, from Watatsumi Island! You got me a necklace and bracelet set!" You squeal in pure excitement, treating the jewellery like fragile little things when you feel them. Cold to the touch, and you can see your reflection in them.

Pride shines in his eyes and a small smile pulls at his lips. He doesn't say anything except watch you freak out, satisfied with the hoops he had to jump through for this present.

"al-Haitham, I am so happy I could kiss you."

"I'd be happy to oblige."

The best way to describe yours and al-Haitham's relationship is unusual. You would do anything to get on his last nerve (without overstepping), and he would do anything for you.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[moongothic]

So I have a Crocodile theory that I've been sitting on for a while. I have absolutely nothing to prove any of it whatsoever, and the only thing that really propels me to believe in it is that I think it would be cool if it were true.

I think Crocodile may have gotten his start as a cabin boy for the Rocks Pirates the same way Shanks and Buggy got their start with Roger. The trust issues would naturally follow from the way the Rocks Pirates probably turned on each other immediately following Rocks' death during the God Valley Incident. Seeing the crew you grew up on turn in on itself would make anyone wary of trusting others I think. It might also explain a portion of the animosity he had for Whitebeard as well. Obviously a lot of it comes from their clash during Croc's warlord days, but it might explain why he was so eager to go after Whitebeard in the first place. Him being at God Valley would also provide a solid point where he could have run into Ivankov, and potentially where Ivankov could have gotten some dirt on him, depending on whatever that dirt ends up being in Canon.

Even wilder speculation, but I think Mihawk might have been there as well. The two just seem to have this weird, unexplained rapport that doesn't yield itself to a whole lot of options other than a previous connection. They get in a fight at Marineford, and Crocodile walks away alive despite him being well below Mihawk's level. Croc feels it's enough to just let Mihawk know he's "in a real bad mood" and that seems to do the trick. Mihawk is the first person Crocodile talks to about his Cross Guild venture, and Mihawk doesn't take long to take him up on it. And Mihawk, in general, also just kind of lets Crocodile talk at him a lot for someone who was introduced to us as a person who would hunt you down for just interrupting his nap.

Like I said, I don't have a shred of evidence for any of this at all, but I do think it would be cool, and might explain a few things.

"Would be cool if true" THIS IS WHAT FUN THEORIES ARE BASED ON 👏👏👏 We're HERE to get EXCITED about COOL IDEAS

Honestly I much prefer "random cabin boy for Xebec" over Xebec's son on just vibes alone, but also it'd make Crocodile losing interest on Whitebeard in Marineford much more palatable. Because if Whitebeard betrayed his dad on top of kicking his ass then surely he wouldn't assist in saving Ace, regardless of what his relationship with Luffy and/or the Revs may or may not have been. But if he was a cabin boy, yeah, that'd give him the trust issues but without it being THAT personal

Not sure if Mihawk would've been on the same ship though... IDK looking at the bby Shichibukai art, bby Hawk looks quite messy and disheveled compared to bby Croc- if they were raised in similar circumstances on Xebec' ship you'd think their art would look about the same. Also if I'm not misremembering, Crocodile would've been 9 during the God Valley incident, and Mihawk is 3 years younger than him so he would've been just 6. I dunno, if anything I'd be more willing to bet money on Moria having been on the ship with Crocodile instead (since he would've been like 13, and based on bby Moria's art he looks like he kinda matches with Crocodile, that said there's nothing to prove the two have any kind of shared history whatsoever)... But yeah, if Mihawk was 6 at the time, I kind of doubt they were BOTH on Xebec's ship

That said. I'm fucking sure Crocodile and Mihawk have SOME kind of shared history. There's gotta be fucking SOMETHING, at SOME POINT, because yeah, as you said

Crocodile telling Mihawk he's in a shit mood is a passable warning to give to from like One Dangerous Warlord to Another, but it takes on a whole different tone if they knew each other a bit closer

Who knows, maybe they were both cabin boys on the same ship for someone else a few years later though, hell, for all we know Mihawk could've been on Crocodile's crew for a time

Also based on Kuma's flashback, we do see Kuma visit Mihawk's island in chapter 1099, and in 1100 when Mihawk sees the news of Kuma joining, he's awfully quiet. So if Mihawk and Kuma may have known each other even just briefly, yeah. Why the fuck couldn't Mihawk and Crocodile have some history too.

There's also this bit from Croc and Hawk's phonecall that interests me

The "..." in the flashback panel

Like it's very normal for Oda to signal a character is thinking about something without saying anything about it by doing the little "..." (for example, Robin would've been well-aware of Moria as she did work for a Warlord herself, making this panel from Thriller Bark quite interesting), hell the phonecall flashback both begins and ends with Mihawk having simple "..." thought bubbles as he's thinking back to it

But the fact that he's Having A Thought about Crocodile being like "we're the same bro"... Oh they gotta have somekinda shared backstory somewhere, they've gotta, surely

And indeed, despite the fact that the two aren't supposed to trust anyone, they sure seem to trust each other enough to start a marine hunting organization together

(Also an interesting detail that, since we know they both hate the Marines a lot, so them starting an organization with that shared goal is just. Yeah. Interesting.)

One additional note I wanted to make because I just noticed this while browsing the Wiki; of the OG Warlords Mihawk is one of the few who we have no idea when he joined the Shichibukai, the only other one being Moria

I really would be curious to hear when and how Mihawk joined, 'cause for all we know, he might've joined around the same time Crocodile did, which would definitely be interesting...

Man. Like I'm not particularly interested in Mihawk's backstory on its own, but if his backstory was somehow tied to Crocodile's... Oh I'd absolutely love to hear it. ODA PLEASE, SPILL THE BEANS

[lotties-ashwagandha]

SIMPLICITY

ellie williams x fem!reader

short first kiss fluff w ellie for valentines day bc i'm too tired to be feeling the smut vibes but maybe i'll post a smut fic later too if i can find motivation. 685 words.

You could hear the soft notes of the guitar coming from the theater. It soothed you to listen to, to know she was okay — the trip from Jackson had been hard on both of you. 

You slipped into the theater, shutting the door quietly behind you. You didn’t think Ellie heard you over the guitar, but when you got closer she stopped playing, gesturing for you to sit beside her. 

The theater was silent as you sat together, though not unpleasantly. It had been a more tiring day than you’d had in your entire life. 

You looked down at her chemical burn. You had discovered the truth behind it today, after Ellie’s mask had broken in spores underground. 

“Immune,” you said with a shake of your head. “You should have told me sooner.”

“I tried,” Ellie said playfully. “You didn’t believe me.” 

You smiled. “What, when we were in Eugene’s weed palace and got high and you decided to tell me every single one of your childhood fuck-ups?” 

“In my defense, getting bit was a pretty big fuck-up.” 

You reached into the pocket of your jeans, pulling out a joint and a lighter. Ellie raised her eyebrows, watching you with surprise. 

“I stole some of these from Eugene’s. It didn’t seem like anyone else was going to be using them,” you said. 

“And they survived in your pocket through the whole trip to Seattle? Wouldn’t there be spores on them or something from today?” 

“I had them in my backpack,” you said, as if it were obvious. 

Ellie smirked. “So, what? You premeditated drugging me in an abandoned theater? Sounds kind of serial killer.” 

“I am a serial killer,” you muttered as you lit the joint and passed it to her. “I drug all the girls I like in an abandoned theater. Obviously.” 

You were too distracted and tired to have noticed your word choice, but Ellie noticed it. That you liked her. And it made sense now, why you had given up everything in Jackson to follow her to Seattle — you had a family back at home, friends, you were on regular routines with scouts. But for Ellie you would give up anything. 

“Why did you leave Jackson?” Ellie asked, and passed the joint back to you. She needed to hear it from you — clearly, without hesitation. She needed to know for sure. 

“You know why. Abby deserves to be-”

“But it’s not about Abby, is it?” She asked. 

Nervously, you smiled. Ellie watched you intently, and one of her hands slid over the armrest of the theater chair to hold yours. Her thumb traced mindless patterns on the back of your hand, and against your will you could feel yourself blushing. 

After a moment of nervous hesitation, you leaned forward, pulling her into a kiss. Ellie’s hand slid up to your jaw, taking control. Euphoria rose in your chest. You felt you were hovering above the ground, your soul gone from your body. 

“I love you,” she whispered once you’d pulled away, her voice soft. Her thumb trailed your jaw, and the love with which she looked at you so tenderly that anything else disappeared but her. Infected could be ripping the walls down, the WLF could be breaking down the doors but nothing would have mattered but the way Ellie looked at you. 

“I love you too,” you whispered, hardly hearing your own words in the preoccupation you had with her. 

You kissed her again, allowing yourself to be enveloped in the sensation of her, her touch, the way she gently dominated your movements. You were overcome by her entirely, the security you found in her touch and the strength that radiated from her. 

In another life, perhaps you would have known that today was Valentine’s Day – you would have made each other gift baskets, bought each other chocolate and flowers, and you would have announced to the world that you belonged to each other. But in this life, it was enough simply to be with each other, connected by your love in a way no one else understood or needed to.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

listen i know its a common theme in all spiderman media that he cant always save everyone but just this once i want him to be able to so badly

[snackugaki]

.... i have been so normal about wanting to draw tactical!Venus and tactical!Jennika.

hey. HEY. y’all need to go check out @donathan ‘s artwork, and if you are the proper age, go throw some money into their patreon for some... some real, real good art. 👀👀👀 ...but do not if you are a minor, that shit ain’t for you.

some IDW TMNT comic spoilers... and.... I guess... Next Mutation ssspoilers? I know some of you kids haven’t turtled up and watched my beloved childhood iteration yet.

alright, so, y’know, completely normal expenditure of my energy and skillset, amirite? big big thanks to @/donathan for allowing me to play around in their AU’s aesthetic because I have severe, terminal VenusAndJennikaDeserveEverythingoccocal SoIWillManifestItMyselfitis.

and tbh, all y’all’s fics have been, mwah, chef’s kiss. but SOME of you put LORE. delicious, tasty, appetite-inducing lore.

and i am nothing but the littlest hoebag for lore.

okay so, quick rundown for those who both A) are immune to spoilers B) also do not know Venus or Jennika’s origins-- bulletpoint time~!

So Venus de Milo, the “girl turtle”, the “fifth turtle” (not counting April’s extremely brief stint as a white-bandana’d turtle in the Archie comics run) was introduced in 1997′s Ninja Turtles: The Next Mutation

An episode of “The Toys That Made Us” touched upon Venus’ creation so idk it’ll cover what I won’t deign to acknowledge.

her backtory is interesting (just her show was a trashfire /affectionate)

Master Splinter’s frolicking around in the dreamscape where all the cool enlightened old people hang out away from teenagers, right?

but oh no! dragon lord, a bad dude with a widow’s peak to rival Vegeta Dragonball’s widow’s peak; is there too! stomping around, ruining shit!

Splinter’s dreamscape buddy Chung I warns Splinter to stay out of the dreamscape ‘cuz Dragon Lord’s around

And like in true old people fashion, just ignores his friend’s admonition and tries to investigate himself

bad choice, womp womp

Splinter gets trussed up and rendered “stuck” in the dreamscape

cue the catalyst for Venus to make the 10+ flight from China to the U.S

don’t worry about what the boys were doing, just literal surfing in sewer grey water, breaking their little turtle skulls on cinderblocks, and picking fights in warehouses with Foot clan goons

tl;dr Venus still has Sixth Ranger mode on, so naturally she whoops all of their asses in the dark, ties them up (like how some of y’all enjoy writing Leo does huhu nudgenudge winkwink)

venusistheoriginalshibarienthusiastandteadrinkerfightme

and then, y’know, it’s still the 90s and children’s television so blah blah the usual “oH My gOd a GiRL tURTle???/?? AWoooOOogaaa ga ga ga” 

it’s.... I mean, i’m 38 so it no longer strikes me as bad as just really fucking embarrassing... for them. to be written saying. fuck, at least they didn’t make her bandana color pink.

so fast forward to Venus teaching them to dreamwalk so they can go rescue Splinter from Dragon Lord’s clutches in the dreamscape.

unfortunately, Dragon Lord offscreen murders Chung I so Venus is narratively anchorless post-rescue, so she’s invited to stay with them. thus ensues wacky hijinks with their new pal, Venus Boom Boom de Milo.

I glossed over the urge to write a cumulative review of Next Mutation. Just, take my word as the target demographic of the show during the last gasps of 90s Turtlemania that TNM was a trashfire overall but... y’know... if you ever needed a palette cleanser after some grimdark or angsty TMNT content, give TNM a whirl. The slapstick was intentional and The Point in the show. Venus’ circumstances for coming was as serious as it would get.

... Also, yes, they made them not related in TNM, preteen snackugaki didn’t clock why because I watched a lot of wuxia as a kid so brotherhood is a term beyond blood ties to me (and if I’m being honest, martial brotherhood is fkkn metal) and later I heard tell that it was to lure more girls into the franchise with both a girl turtle and romance options. which idk whatevs man. 

I also have to clear that, actually no, Donatello and Venus did not fight EVERY episode. Donatello, despite sprinkling a little too much barely disguised snobbery, did defer to Venus’ expertise in “the supernatural” when the situation called for it, and Venus would commend Donnie on his scientific ingenuity. They even teamed up skillsets to create surveillance drones! She essentially casted Calm Emotions on him while he tried to hack the controls of the Astro Megaship back for the In Space Rangers. They breached the divide between STEM and Humanities! They only had one “real fight" near the end of the season-- because Donnie was playing his containment breach elevator mid trash copyright strike immune proto-EDM too loud while she was trying to meditate. and that’s just being bad roommates tbh.

...christ I know it’s gonna come up too, but also NO, there was not constant advances made toward Venus during the show. At most was Mikey pulling his ol’ “I work out every day~!” schtick for like 2 episodes of the 5 spent to introduce Venus. And then after? A shipper’s desert, you’d have to dig and peer behind like 8 curtains for any viable fodder. 

...OKAY NOW FOR JENNIKA’S ORIGINS: Jennika is an IDW character specifically so, naturally why she isn’t in (or would’ve been, AHEM) a lot of iterations yet (or at all, COUGH) (but to continue in honesty there’s a lot of legal tape to cut through since Jennika is IDW’s while TMNT overall is Nick’s) Introduced as a Foot Assassin, her place in the Foot Clan shifts when Splinter takes over from Shredder (Saki), eventually she forms actual bonds with both the turtles and Splinter to where it’s implied she also saw him as an important figure to her if not an outright surrogate father figure. And because TMNT is mess and drama the other 50% of the time, Karai takes over the Foot from Splinter and shenanigans compounded by Karai’s then-current machinations for the Foot-- results in Jennika getting shanked in the stomach by Karai during a clandestine meeting to resolve clan rivalry. She’s losing blood fast, Donnie works to save her and it’s Leo who volunteers for blood transfusion to keep her stable mid-transit. 

SURPRISE!

Leo’s blood mutates Jennika into a mutant turtle. And then Casey ghosts/dumps her. My poor daughter. She has a real rough time of it before fully integrating with the boys. Raph falls in with Old Hob, gets hoodwinked, and now they live in Mutant Town. Jennika slowly finds herself again, as a mutant turtle, a Splinter clan ninja, a girlfriend, a guitarist in a band she started, a sister in a found family, and a constable to a very little town.

okay! we’re all marginally informed about my two wonderfull daughters, Venus and Jennika~!

so if I can indulge further, I’m going to use my cognizance and make it everyone’s problem because I have beem quietly foaming with ideas for bg lore for tactical!J&V, more bullet points!

ok so, donathan mentioned a bit about their tac! Leo and Donnie being the snipers, Mikey and Raph spotting for them while also being demolitions and heavy ordinance specialists respectively

I would think, then for Vee and Jen, they’d be classified as close quarters combat specialists, complicated extraction? compromised area? call them to clean up and clear out~

give or take “magic” being a thing used in donathan’s AU, or anyone’s AU of this AU, Vee would probably be a close combat specialist along with Jen.

Vee, I feel, would, barring a ...”tactical fan”, (even though in TNM it was just her fists and her little wizard components but her toy came with a fan so.) probably use batons, Jen in lieu of her tekagi-shuko would... most likely use tactical karambit. not that large of a leap really.

for my personal lulz, Vee and Jen are... accurate, height-wise. Raph gets to be the biggest brother since alligator snapping turtles are, in fact, the largest motherfucking freshwater turtles on the north american continent. no getting around it.

my Vee in all Rise AUs is a softshell since the messy hanzi used to write her first given name, Mei Pieh Chi (美鱉气) has the hanzi that’s most commonly translated as softshell turtle (鱉). eh ‘di wow talaga

snacku what do you mean ‘accurate’???? tl;dr female turtles are usually the larger ones in most species.

and listen, I love and I mean LOVE, how some of y’all have written the tac!boys, mwah; but god I’m a professional turtle bully. I need to see them get dunked on. for nutritional value. and if it comes to it, I will provide that food for myself. brb laughing at eventually drawing Venus just offhandedly tossing Donnie into the air to skeet shoot his ass for fun brings me the greatest joy.

they absolutely dote on Mikey, as is the natural order of things. 

and even tho I stated TNM Donnie and Venus got along in the show, and depending on the existence of magic in this AU; I just really love dichotomous rivalries (in as much “science” and “magic” exist as a dichotomy, much less as “diametrically oppose” fields-- just, opposites man. i’m a simple girl with simple trope needs)

Vee’s arms (and legs) are absolutely covered in burns, scars, and missing flesh divots, just as close to swiss cheese limbs as you can be

Jen and Donnie debate tracks that go into their joint “On Our Way To Commit Murder” playlist

if Vee’s tactical look seem very familiar, and you’re wondering if-- yes, you’re correct. and you can “call her ms. de milo if ya nasty”

Vee was actually pretty calm and rational in TNM... but for this AU, she can be a little unhinged, as a well-deserved treat. (and ‘cuz that specific anime unhinged facial expression is fun as fuck to draw, which is my treat)

[ineedjesusverymuch]

Diabolik lovers headcanons pt. 4

Hi! After that huge response my other post got, I decided to write more/be more active on here. I really enjoy writing my thoughts on just about anything regarding dl out and it makes me happy that so many people liked my post!

Although that big of a response was quite a shock. Seemed that I did not, in fact, yell into the void that time :).

Though I am not sure if that post did anything different, I'll continue posting on here no matter how big the response is. If I can make even one person happy with those posts, (including me) I'll keep on writing those silly headcanons of vampires that do not exist. :)

I am going to focus more on the mukamis and Yui in this post since the last one was almost only the Sakamakis.

⚠anything triggering will be marked like this: ❗trigger❗

⚠I am going to briefly discuss childhood trauma and depression.

As always, I'll try to stay at least a little bit true to the source material.

Asks are always appreciated!

This time, I rambled quite a bit about Azusa ':)

headcanons under the cut⬇

Firstly, Yui. Our dear heroine who deserves just about everything!

Really good at dancing those old, classical ballroom dances. She had a few lessons by Ayato (who spent the entire time giving his best not stomping on Yui's feet) and Reiji (whose lesson was the most horrifying experience she had ever had)

After those lessons, she refined her skills. Ayato is quite a good dancer, so she had someone to practice with.

Her best dances are waltz and rumba

Ayato is literally not physically able to stop watching her when dancing together. Never has he seen someone that beautiful (I stand by Ayato being totally besottet by Yui)

Her style is so coquetteish, old fairy tale princess, etherial soul, cottage core - genuinely dresses like a pinterest board

Really fcking pretty??? I don't get why the boys humble her all the time

Immune to pretty boys/play boys. She has seen it all.

really adores bunnies. Lionheads? She'd like a dozen of them.

Had at one point a guinea pig. It died and her father buried it and told her that a fairy had taken it to be her loyal companion. Yui believed it until she was like 16 years.

Her hair has those light curls and feels like the softest thing ever

The clasp in her hair is not the only flowery hair adornment she has, Yui loves to wear different clasps on special occasions

Definitely got gifted a hair pin with rose details from Subaru at one point

Best friends with Subaru. They like to spend quality time caring for his flowers and Yui is allowed to brush his hair on tare occasions.

Shu tried to teach her the violin once and she was horrible at it (but flute was her thing)

Has those shirts with horribly kitsch prints on them but no one says anything to her because she loves them so much

She has thought a lot about her faith since being with the Sakamakis. Read a lot about her god and the different religions.

Has though about studying theology and psychology in University

collects squishmallows

wears those light perfumes that smell like vanilla and flowers occasionally

Everyone turns their head when they first see Yui

Etherial beauty

Smells like vanilla. It's because she uses those body lotions and a lightly scented hair mist

Ayato goes mad at the smell

Ayato genuinely loves Yui. Just her, living her life. He adores her.

Also; Ayato is a himbo.

Dumb and dumber duo

Subaru teaches her material art as defense for anything coming at her

Natural at fighting

Decked Ayato in the face once as he materialized out of thin air behind her

Knocked him unconscious

Laito laughed for literal hours at the though of Ayato getting knocked out by Yui

Her dream is living in peace with eveyone she loves

Had an actual talk with Ayato at some point. They are a healthy couple now (No, I do not care about the canon. They're in love your highness)

Goes to therapy. She decided to after nightmares regarding her early days with the boys

Also, scared that Cordelia will come back at one point and take her body over completely

Yui is the nicest person ever

Will talk with you about everything you'd like

Gentle soul.

Gives great hugs?? Knows how to comfort someone who's feeling bad

She's not only good at baking but also at making those highly decorated cakes and cupcakes. Kanato begs her for themed cupcakes as soon as autumn starts and Halloween decorations appear

next, Ruki.

Eats way too much dark chocolate

We're talking about two entire bars minimum a day

Coffee junkie

Has a disproportionately large consume of anything caffeinated

Wears the same crusty, dry eyeliner since 1990

Refuses to buy a new one since "the old one still works" (it does not)

flirts with Reiji. Its so obvious that even Yuma has realized it

(Reiji is oblivious to it)

Academically speaking, really good at the natural sciences.

Fcking sucks at english though

Studies quite a lot, Ruki despises being on the same level as Reiji

Bad loser

Will be sulky after losing a game of Uno

Definitely cheats at card games

Really good at annoying Reiji. It's such a high level of annoying, he could give courses on the matter

Really good older brother

Checks on the other Mukami brothers when Ruki sees them struggeling with their pasts

Will check in every night if Azusa or Kou are plagued by nightmares

Has nightmares about the orphanage

❗sometimes wakes up scared that his brothers are actually dead and can only calm down after checking that each one is still alive

❗Definitely scared of anything happening to his brothers, he has panic attacks just thinking about that night

reads self help books

Has at least one "how to raise unruly children" book on his shelves

Culinary mastermind

But also makes the weirdest combinations of foods? Why would anyone like to taste jam with cucumbers and pepper????

now, Kou

Likes those really creepy stuffed toys

really good at drawing winged eyeliner

Has worn pink mascara and it looked so fcking good???

Hugest crush on Subaru

Flirts with him but the dear boy does not recognize romantic affection even when it slaps him in the face

Almost fainted riding the first time on Subaru's motorcycle

The scariest thing since really long

Wears really dangly, long earrings

With the weirdest motifs

Has one pair that has clams that can open. The pearls inside them glow in the dark.

his stomach is a bottomless pit. The first time he came over to spend a night at the Sakamaki's, Reiji was genuinely afraid that they had nit enough food to last to breakfast

Laito and he binged the Kardashians

Loves gossip. Knows everything about everyone

Makes rad nail art

Loves styling Azusa. Its their quality time, combined with trying those really spicy crisps

huge energy drink consumer

Helps him trough those sleepless nights were Kou stays up and chats with Laito the whole night through the phone

quite good at learning historical facts

Due to Kou's eye, he can see truths and lies in humans. But he is also really good at deciphering the human psyche.

Doesn't always use his eye. Sometimes, just Kou's knowledge of psychology is enough to recognize lies

There are some headcanons that Kou is italian. I agree with that. I can really image him enjoying the culture and the food. Also, I read a headcanon once that Kou's real name was Emilio. (If someone knows the name of the OP, please tell me)

Now, our vegetable freak: Yuma!

loves scrunchies and hair claw clips

Got one from Kanato once and uses them since

Also, I propose: Yuma with those hair claw clips in butterfly shape. Gifted by Kou as a joke

but now, he always wears them

Kanato braids his hair in really elaborate hair styles. Bridal style vibes. Kou thinks its the funniest thing ever

Shu loves toying with his hair when bored. It's just so soft and smells really good (Yuma uses Kou's shampoo on the regular. It causes quite a lot of fights)

took 1 (one) "Am I Gay" quiz. It came out a hundred percent positive. The next day, he confessed to Shu. They've been together ever since

Feeds the birds on the porch of their house every morning, together with Azusa

Actually really educated about current politics (at least the ones in Romania. But knows quite a lot about the USA and Japan, too)

Will start fights with Ruki about politics during dinner

If you ever want to hear angry romanian yelling, just go to the Mukami house during elections

Cares for every houseplant in their house

Brings at least two new plants per week at home. Ruki is on the brink of forbidding Yuma from accessing his monthly allowance

wears really shitty clothes. I'm talking thousand times stitched together trousers. They look like potatoes sacks but he refuses to get new ones

Has a toolbelt that looks atrocious

He wears it almost every day

The dirtiest shoes known to mankind

So dirty with soil and just about anything you can find in nature

Ruki gets daily aggressions about the spots on their carpet, since Yuma thinks changing shoes just for going inside is stupid

Wears the most amazing eyeliner but it is actually just old as fuck eyeshadow and mascara

He makes it look good

Has the longest lashes known to humankind

Brown skin due to being outside so much

Disneyprincess in secret

loves those huge dogs

now, Azusa!!

jesus that boy can be seductive

No, I wont elaborate

That was a lie, I will elaborate on anything with Azusa. He has the art of subtle flirting refined to mastery

Tried to flirt with Kanato. But Kanato thought he was being made fun of

Great at subtle makeup

Also; great dancer. Especially latin dances such as cha-cha-cha or salsa

He has those hips (breedable, as some folks would say)

Canonically doesn't like peppers

That doesn't apply to stuffed peppers with spices though

Great at remembering faces, not so great at remembering names

Can draw and paint and do art so good????

God of art

Not god of natural sciences though

Is doing alright at school but doesn't like the education system

Speaks not only romani and japanese but also a bit of English (and has the thickest british accent. No one knows where it is from and Azusa refuses to tell them that it is from watching Harry potter so often)

Colours his hair in a blue-black colour to give it more depth sometimes

Wears very pretty, light blue-ish glitter on the inner eye corner sometimes

So beautiful eyes??

Long, dark lashes

Likes to wear a bit of mascara

Naturally a defined jawline and straight nose

But a bit chubby cheeks

Is very pale but tans quite a but when longer outside in the summer. But dues to his sensitivity to heat, he'd rather stay inside

His eyes have a bit of an almond form, which gives them a sharp look, but still quite big

Azusa likes to wear too big clothes, especially hoodies and sweaters from Ruki and Yuma.

Also, cargo pants. The wide ones

Combat boots are a staple in his closet

Loves plateau boots and sneakers

Converse all stars are his to go shoes if no plateau boot is available

The shoes size him up quite a bit so the first time he met the Sakamakis, they all thought he was quite big. They all were surprised as they arrived at the Mukami home and Azusa just shrinked a few inches

Paints his fingernails in hope that he doesn't chew on them that much if they're pretty and colorful

Cuts his hair himself because he feels that his slow manner of speech annoys the staff in hair salons

But he likes the choppy style so its not as big of a problem for him

❗has a problem coping with what happened in his childhood. He canonically sh, but has frequent anxienty attacks too.

Due to that, he has a few weightened blankets and lots of pillows on his bed to simulate the feeling of getting hugged

Big hugger

His love language is physical touch

bug lover

Has a really cool sweater with the life cycle of a frog

That was it, actually. I rambled quite a bit about Azusa but I still hope you'll like it.

I hope I was able to make your day a bit better.

If you have any requests, just ask!

Thank you for reading all of that. I really appreciate you! I hope you'll have an amazing day/night!

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Since everyone really enjoys shorter drabbles I will attempt to mix a few more in here and there instead of just focusing on fewer larger fics. I am not doing titles and word counts for little one-shot drabbles though. (CW: non-con, character death, magic, necromancy, blood drinking, general yandere behavior, undead yandere, gender neutral reader)  

Imagine you live in a realm of monsters and magic. You’re the village mage, and have studied the mystical realm your entire life. You mix potions to help the ill and cast blessings to secure the harvests. Your magical protection even keeps away some of the scarier creatures of the world. But one day your best friend dies, you had been like family since childhood. Trying to move on and accept the loss completely fails, you are devastated. You are devastated and delve into very taboo magic. Forbidden magic. One night you steal away his remains, pack up your magical equipment, and set up a dwelling deep in the woods where normal men dare not dwell. You practice and research dark sorcery and commune with demons deep within the layers of Hell. Once you have the knowledge and enough of the appropriate ingredients you practice reviving animals and finally you feel you are ready. The ritual calls for the bones of the dead and the blood of a living loved one to anchor them back to this world. You repair the body, it looks like he is sleeping, but there is no soul yet, you cast the final incantations and paint the sigils on his body in your own blood. It is done. You wait. He breathes. It has worked! He has returned to the realm of the living once more. He remembers nothing of the afterlife and you explain to him what happened and how neither of you can ever return to your former home. It’s fine, he had no other friends or family there anyway and the two of you manage to do just fine on your own. But slowly you begin to realize your friend was… changed… by the ritual. He came back… wrong. He occasionally needed human blood to feed the magic binding him to this world, but you were the only person available. Each time he ingested your blood he became more and more attached to you. Clingy. Suffocating.   Eventually it got to the point where he wouldn’t leave you alone. He began to leave lingering touches on your body, attempt to caress and even kiss you. You tried to tell him you weren’t interested but he needed more and more. Your essences had been mixed by blood and magic and he now craved you in every way possible! What’s worse is no matter what you tried he was immune to all your spells and potions. And he had ungodly strength. Now you were sobbing as you were helplessly pinned below him with his cock pistoning in and out of you with great force. You would never escape him. There was a reason this type of magic was forbidden.

[starry-bi-sky]

I am of the DPxDC belief/headcanon that any variation of Danny who grew up poor in Gotham during his formative years before moving to Amity Park would not be friends with Sam without friction at first. It makes things more interesting and imo allows for more exploration of different themes plus character growth for Sam that she doesn't really go through in canon.

(this doesn't only apply to a DPDC au where Danny grew up in Gotham poor, but it was the first thing that I thought of where this might happen considering my Childhood Friends au.)

Now Sam's a compassionate girl, it's one of her defining character traits, but so is her hypocrisy and judgy-ness. She's the Not Like Other Girls' girl. This is in part of the show's narrative framing that makes her out like this, unfortunately though its still showing how she is as a character since its consistent enough to be part of her character description. There are also times where the show's depiction of her activism makes it look like she's performative about it. All of this makes her dynamic with a Danny who grew up poor in Gotham very interesting.

Anyways, Sam is aware of her privilege to an extent, but still has her blindspots - glaring ones, in some cases. Her self-righteous attitude would not go over well with a crime alley kid Danny. He'd like her, at first, but then she'd do something to make him mad - personally I think her judging people for not being vegan would annoy him the most, or at least would be the breaking point for him, because it was only recently that his family started actually being able to consistently put food on the table at all, good food nonetheless. And being vegan is expensive.

Any other behavior he noticed from her he'd slowly stop tolerating - her judging conventionally attractive girls and automatically assuming they're vapid and shallow for being feminine. Her anti-capitalist beliefs start coming off as superficial at worst, and Danny would eventually figure out that Sam either came from a family that was well off, or that she wasn't aware if her family was experiencing financial struggle.

He would still be friends with Tucker, but since Tucker imo is still friends with Sam, they'd still run into each other often enough to butt heads. Sam's got a nasty habit of refusing to take responsibility when she's wrong, but when Danny is arguing with her, and counterpointing her with stuff she can't retort back at without compromising her own beliefs, then forces her to start reflecting on herself. Especially when Tucker eventually starts siding with Danny and agreeing with him.

Does sam genuinely care about her beliefs and philosophies? Survey says yes. However that doesn't mean she's not ignorant, and she definitely is at times throughout the show (like when she released the purpleback gorilla thinking it 'wanted out of its enclosure' despite the fact that it was endangered and in an urban area) and I think it'd be a real fascinating dynamic between Danny and Sam to explore.

This isn't Sam hate btw, nor am I trying to make her out like "the worst person ever" bc she's not, i wanna make that explicitly clear. Sam Manson has a lot of positive traits about her but she also has an equal amount of negative traits that I think should be explored, she is not immune to the character development.

[ravisinghs-wife]

Hii!

Could you please do Aaron Warner x reader dating post? cause I live for that man.



Aaron warner x gn!reader

warnings: ooc!Aaron (?), I changed the timeline and a tiny bit of the plot from unravel me, my poor attempt at writing anything besides headcanon, cringe writing, mention of being drugged, being shot, curse words

word count: 1.6k +

notes to the reader: reader's gift is to make people believe and do everything they say. reader has been at omega point since their childhood and is best friends with kenji. reader wears a dress

other notes to the fic: Juliette and Aaron are just friends (well still kind of enemies, but Aaron's main focus from bringing her to the reestablishment was to help his mom, instead of rescuing her bc he was in love with her), a/n: I am SO sorry that this took so long, I'm currently trying to work on my request before I open them again but I just don't have that much motivation to write rn😭, I hope you still like it:)), my first language isn't English so please respect that, I tried to write something different from what I normally do...

Masterlist

you two met when he was taken by omega point

after he was allowed outside of his room, and castle made sure that Aaron wouldn't destroy any more furniture, he kept seeing you on his daily walks with castle and began asking questions about you

"what's their name" Aaron looked focused, directing his question to the person joining him on his walk. Castle waited a few seconds before answering Aaron's question: "y/n, their gift is to make people believe and do everything they say" Aaron gave you another intense look before turning his attention to castle again and nodding, to signalize that he understood him.

after that he kept noticing you and eventually agreed to eat dinner with the others, just so he could sit at the same table as you and listen to your conversations with Kenji

you had been friends with Kenji for as long as you could remember, so you always sat at the same table, different friends of yours joining you both, be it Ian, Brendan, lily or the brand new members Adam, James or Juliette, with whom Kenji was especially close

but when the new omega point member, the infamous Aaron Warner joins you both you of course notice him

you also didn't miss the glances he kept sending you

so when castle, who also didn't miss the glances, asked you to train him you rushed to say yes because you just couldn't believe that a person could be so pure evil like Adam pointed him out to be

yes, he let someone tortured your best friend (which you still were pretty pissed about) but you believed that there could be something nice in him and assumed that he was under much stress due to his father, who you haven't heard a single nice thing about

his first training session was on an Tuesday afternoon, to which he arrived exactly on time and in perfect clothing, as if he somehow found a way to iron it

you started with some simple tasks to try to find out what exactly his power is and why he is immune to Juliettes touch

around three sessions later you come to then training session in your prettiest dress that you normally safe for special occasions

aaron, he demanded that you call him by his first name, immediately had one of his rare smiles spread out on his face when he saw you in that dress

he kept asking you to do a twirl so he could see the whole dress but you refused at first

it wasn't until he came closer to you, held your hands carefully in his and asked like a little puppy "please to a twirl for me, my beloved" that you made one with a shocked face

when he saw your expression he rushed to stop you and asked panicked if everything was alright

you told him that he just practiced your gift and couldn't do anything but do a twirl

after that both of you quickly figured out that his gift was to practice other peoples powers and copy them

the night after you are me in his room, trying to work on his powers

you do that until you notice him staring at you

"what's wrong Aaron?" you ask, looking concernt at the boy. you notice that he isn't smiling or grinning a bit like he normally does when you say his name. "my beloved, I- I'll have to leave in the morning. My father can't suspect that I'm here or where exactly omega point is, he'll know soon if i stay longer. I can't put you at this risk." You were shocked to say the least. "Aaron you can't- how would you even do that? Do you even know the way out?" "I wasn't really unconscious when I was brought here, you know? And I found a way to navigate myself around here in the last two months." He looks at your shocked face before adding: "But don't worry, I won't tell my dad or someone else about anything here. I'll hope that you'll miss me the same amount that I will miss you. I hope we will see each other soon again"

He doesn't let you protest any further, gives your hand a gentleman-like kiss and leaves

you had absolutely no idea where he went to, it was his room that you spent your time just mere minutes ago in, after all

still in shock you don't even think about following him, the only thought in your head being that he would be gone tomorrow and will probably spent his time with his pathetic excuse of an father

You don't even think about telling castle or someone else at omega point about Aaron leaving, and at the morning of the very next day you find out that he succeeded

days pass until each member from the rescuing mission of Brendan and Winston, who where both kidnapped my Aaron's psycho dad, Anderson, were ready and prepared to start the mission

the mission seemed to go well until you saw the bombs falling from the sky directly on the place where omega point was located

you were in shock and didn't notice the arms grabbing you and dragging you into a tank

you'd been handcuffed and your eyes were covered with a cloth

there was a voice saying something but you didn't catch was it was saying

someone forced a liquid down your throat and you soon passed out after that

the first thing that you noticed was the warm light

you sat in a kitchen chair but soon noticed that a person, who you assumed to be Anderson, Aaron's dad, because of the obvious resembles, joined you

shit

you didn't catch everything he was saying because you were still feeling dizzy from the drug you were forced to consume, something about revenge, the stupidness of his son (who apparently had joined you two), leading and shooting someone

you soon found out that with someone they meant you, when you were shot in the chest

right into your heart

being shot and drugged at the same day wasn't a nice feeling

you were bleeding and if it didn't stop soon you'd be dead in a few minutes

and if that would happen you couldn't exactly tell because you passed out

for the second time today

it was a shock, to say nicely, when you woke up next to Aaron

he immediately asked you if you were okay but you just stared at him

"I- What the fuck happened?" "my father he- he wanted to 'teach me a lesson'. I'm sorry, my beloved. If I never would've asked him to spare your life he wouldn't have tried to kill you or make me try to kill you." he rambled, trying to explain the earlier actions. But one question was still lingering in your head: "why exactly would you have asked him to spare my life?" He could've carered so much more about someone else's life than yours. Juliettes or maybe James. Besides his constant dining you were sure that he cared at least a bit for them. "Because I care for you, my beloved." You don't know what to say after this confession and just look at him and take his hand into yours.

that's how you met<33 sorry, I got carried away

anyway

that man SPOILS you

you see a pretty flower at the market? It's yours. There is a new collectors edition of your favorite book, but it's out of your price range right now? It's on your desk the next day. The limited edition vinyl that just restocked? already ordered, you get the deal

despite everything he says he actually loves dogs and you'll get one when everything with the reestablishment is over

he'll always pick out fancy colars for the dog and style it<3

he definitely has a fashion blog and posts his daily outfits on there

he'll also pick out your outfit everyday and he always tries for you two to match

every time you go shopping with Juliette and/or Kenji he insists on tagging along so you don't chose some ridiculous clothing items that would wash you out or something

he's obsessed with coffee after delalieu introduced him to it

and when you already like coffee you two have this ritual that every Sunday you guys drink a cup coffee on your balcony and just enjoy the early morning

but if you don't like coffee he always tries to get you into it and 'accidentally' places an extra cup on the breakfast table

"i promise my beloved, it's really good you just have to try it for once"

his love languages are words of affirmations and physical touch

he can't go longer than five minutes without touching you

he always has his hand rested on your lower back or holds your hand because your touch comforts and relaxes him<33

also loves to hold your pinkies

he may not look like it but he LOVES cuddling

you can't sleep anymore without you normally grumpy boyfriend squeezing you like his life depended on it

he also loves to rest his head on your belly before sleeping, while you both read something

he's so mesmerized by your presence

he tells you at least ten times a day how gorgeous, smart or lovely you are

you could literally just walk to the kitchen to get a snack and he'd drop everything to tell you how much he loves you

at the beginning of your relationship he was way more open than you expected with his feelings and already told you one month in the relationship that he loved you

I don't know why but I think he'd write you poems frequently