#a mediocre one: same guy but soft

[daisyachain]

I’ve got strong feelings on HFs. You’ve got to translate the general silhouette/characteristics but it’s got to be natural. I don’t like the stupid hats. It’s an exercise in creativity to have that effect with clothes a person might actually potentially wear

[suguann]

✎. he tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, but he's also kinda sweet?? [18+ only]

You like your new roommate.

Simon’s surprisingly better to have around than the last person who lived with you—a girl you knew from college who had an affinity for stealing your clothes and conveniently never had money for rent. He’s the type to make you soup when you’re sick, acknowledge you if you’re in the same room, water your flowers while he rolls his cigarettes on the fire escape, and carry your groceries up the four flights of stairs to your floor. 

He’s attractive, too, in the not-so-conventional sense, but in a disarming way, all small smiles and knowing looks and soft hair you know he doesn’t put much effort into—that sometimes curls around his ears when he lets it get too long—yet it still manages to look better than yours on the best days. 

He never tells you what he does for work, and you’re too polite to ask. But you have a feeling he makes enough to afford a place on the less crime-infested side of town—somewhere nicer than your cramped apartment with its outdated appliances, leaky faucets, and the bright neon sign atop the building across the street that shines through your windows all times of the day—but he says he’s not ready to live alone.

Something tells you there’s more to it than him being a lonely bachelor, but again, you don’t pry.

“Does this place have wi-fi?” is all he’d said the first time you meet, in a voice so smooth and only slightly broken up by his accent, clad in a shirt that looked two sizes too small around his arms and clutching a duffle bag in one big hand. 

Your brain was this shaken-up box of words and syllables that when you answered him, it came out in a nervous stutter. “Y-yeah, I’ll, er…I’ll give it to you—the password, I mean—once you've moved in. If that’s okay.”

He’d dropped his duffle bag in front of the room that would be his. “Consider me moved in.”

The smile he gave you, crinkling eyes and chuckling lightly, only made the stutter worse. 

You let his charm roll off you; you always figured it came naturally to him, a characteristic that comes with being attractive and good.

A handful of months later—of finding a routine around each other and lazy smiles in the morning—something changes the night you go out with a guy Mary from work eagerly sets you up with. 

His name’s Robb, he’s a doctor, and you both love cats; he has a house in Spain. Did I mention he's my cousin?

(A dull no way concealed behind your teeth.

If you hadn’t said yes, you feared your entire lunch break would consist of her waxing poetic over a man you're unsure about meeting.)

For a flicker of a moment, there’s an unreadable expression on Simon’s face as he watches you touch up your makeup in the hallway mirror and slip your hand into the crook of your date’s elbow at the door. There’s a slight glint of something uncharacteristically cold behind the mask of indifference before a small smile replaces it.

“Have a nice night,” you throw over your shoulder, except you don’t notice that he never says it back.

You mope around the apartment when Robb—who surprisingly exceeded your expectations of mediocre dates, not that you ever plan on admitting that to Mary—doesn’t reach out to you for three days. Then a week. You’re at that age to understand when people get busy, and a nice night doesn’t always mean it’s mutually reciprocated. But you liked him, and it felt promising after he’d kissed you goodnight against your front door. 

It had to have been the kiss that turned him off. Maybe he realized it was too much too soon.

When Simon finds you curled up in a ball under your comforter, one thumb gently wiping away your tears, he doesn’t even bring up your date. Instead, he orders your favorite take-out and puts on a sitcom you’d mentioned to him once—somewhat surprised that he remembers—the dreamy doctor who’d ghosted you blissfully forgotten with greasy food and a warm, comforting chest to rest your head on.

Simon’s there again—sweets in hand and a soft voice to soothe you—when another date (Rin from finance on your floor) a month later is a no-show, and a few weeks after that when Rin tells you without context that he can’t see you anymore. 

The third time of let downs feels worse. It’s worse because maybe there’s something wrong with you, and when you ask Simon, he’s too nice to rub salt in your wounds. He tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

You've been Simon's roommate for a year, and he doesn't take it well when you tell him you're looking for a new place.

It’s after he comes home from a three-month work trip. The shadow that crosses over his face should’ve been your first hint that something is wrong.

Had you noticed the signs sooner, you wonder if you’d be less like prey caught by the softness of your underbelly, kept in place by the scruff, and sharp teeth at your neck.

"Beg me. Beg me not to cum in you."

"S-Simon," you whimper wetly, "don't cum in—ah—me."

His fingers hold your chin with an unyielding grip, ensuring your gaze doesn’t stray from his in the cracked mirror. You’re embarrassed by what you see, how spread open you are to his dark, inkwell eyes hungrily watching as you twitch when his other hand slides between your thighs.

"Don’t stop begging, love,” he growls, squeezing you tighter, “or I might forget."

There’s that dark look again, the one that sends a shivery feeling up your spine, possessive almost with how he traces every inch of you as if burning the image of you into his memory, the softness washed away by something more sinister. 

A little voice in the back of your head tells you to flee, but another knows he'd find joy in catching you. 

No one would ever think your sweet, attractive roommate would be the same man staring at you now—everything you thought you knew about him stripped away to reveal a new canvas, bare for splashes of paint to fill in the cracks—teeth marks imprinted along the curve of your jaw, on the inside of your thighs.

He hides it well. His humble personality doing the trick of being the impenetrable mask for what he’s concealing underneath: a raw obsession, an addict finally getting his hands on his favorite drug, someone who can’t recognize defeat and knows how to take.

“What do they have that I don’t? Hm? Must be a desperate little thing. My pretty slut,” Simon’s voice rumbles low against your ear, shy of unhinged. “They won’t treat you as good as I do. Don’t I treat you good?”

You whimper when his grip grows tighter, but he doesn’t seem to notice—like he’s not fully here with you. No trace of the soft, gentle man who keeps the freezer full of your favorite ice cream, who runs to the store when you run out of tampons and comes back with chocolate and a new pair of fuzzy socks. A few words have turned him into someone you don’t know. Perhaps you never did.

“Answer me.”

An indiscernible  squeak is the only sound you make. 

He chuckles darkly, his head dipping down to rest his lips against the fluttering pulse in your neck, a finger slipping through the alarming amount of wetness between your thighs where his cock rends you down the middle, and begins rubbing firm, tight circles over your clit, pulling a moan from your throat. 

“It’s okay, love,” he mumbles, words barely audible above your heartbeat swimming in your ears. “I’ll be everything for you. Everything you need. I’ll show you why I’m better.”

[rbfclassy]

MY PRETTY (EX) WIFE! — GOJO SATORU

SYNOPSIS...your ex husband gojo gets word of your date with some other guy and goes out of his way to pay you a visit while you’re getting ready

INFO...ex husband!gojo x fem!reader, you and gojo have a kid, possessiveness, jealously, groping, grinding, pet names (pretty wife, baby), fucking you from behind over the sink, hair pulling, love-bomb, talks of giving you another kid, breeding, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Your ex husband Gojo is an absolute menace when it comes to your dating life. Somehow he ends figuring out that you’re talking to/seeing some guy. How’d he find out? Probably paid suguru to spy on you to be honest. But besides all that, he will go out of his way to ruin your dating life and it absolutely pisses you off. He’d show up to your house thirty minutes before your date, using the spare key that he still (somehow) had to make his way in. No surprise that you were absolutely startled to see him appear in the mirror behind you as you were applying your mascara. His eyes scan over you, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, you’re all dolled up over some mediocre man that could never be him. Your nails and toes are painted the same color, your hair is freshly done, and the dress you were wearing was one of Gojo’s favorites.

“What are you doing here?” You huff, closing your mascara and placing it back in your bag.

“Came to visit, had some free time.” He leaned against the door frame.

“Free time?” You turn towards him. “You were supposed to watch our daughter, Gojo.” You turn back around, searching in your bag for your lip liner.

“Don’t worry! She’s with aunt Shoko.” He smiles. “Plus, I heard you had a little date tonight. Wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

You exhale in annoyance, knowing that you’ll never be able to live a peaceful life if your one and only ex husband is breathing down your neck and figuring out everything about you, watching your every move. “Yeah, so? Aren’t I allowed to have a little free time of my own?”

“Of course you are, sweetheart. As the mother of my kid, you’re allowed whatever you want. Don’t worry too much, I have a date of my own, so I won’t be in your hair too much longer.” He was lying straight through his teeth, watching your face in the mirror intently to see if he could catch a glimpse of any jealousy.

“Congrats,” you simply responded, grabbing your lipstick.

“I will say though, you look absolutely beautiful in that dress.” Gojo walked up behind you, examining the curve of your back as you leaned over the counter. “It’s my favorite.” His large palm ran up the curve, slowly, before gliding back down to the roundness of your ass.

“Gojo.” You pull his hand away, shaking your head with the roll of your eyes. “You’re not ruining this for me.” The tone of your voice came off as a warning. Yet, Gojo continued to run his hands all over your body, holding onto your waist as he pressed himself against you.

“Afraid that you’re gonna give in? There’s no shame in fucking your ex husband,” he whispered, rubbing his bulge against your ass. He pulled you back against him, a small groan leaving his lips.

You threw your lipstick back in your bag, eyes shutting as you tried to resist the temptation that was Gojo. It was so, so hard. The expensive cologne he wore filled your lungs, his sultry voice in your ear, the softness of his hands as they held onto you. Goddamnit, why does he always make you feel like this? You swore up and down that you wouldn’t fall for his tricks again and here you are, rubbing your ass on him. You look back over your shoulder, taking in his broad shoulders and tall build, the black compression shirt he was wearing defined his muscles so well. His hair so effortlessly falling along the sides of his face. What were you doing? What were you thinking? “Be quick.”

“Atta girl, that’s all you had to say.” Within seconds, he’s bunching your dress up around your hips, pulling your panties down as they fall around your ankles. Your heart skips a beat when you feel his bulbous tip tease your entrance, running it up and down your slit. You grip onto the bathroom counter as you feel him push inside of you, the stretch so deliciously intoxicating, your jaw slack. “Fuck, baby, you’re still so tight,” he lets out a mix between a groan and chuckle, hand coming down to grip onto your hips as he thrusts into you.

His thrusts are deep and fast, a sign that he’s been waiting to be inside of you, waiting to fuck you since the last time. He presses down on your lower back, pushing you down more as he angles his cock just right so he could hit your sweet spot. “F-fuck!” You gasp. “Yes! Right there!” Gojo knew you like the back of his hand, knew every one of your weaknesses and strengths, and most of all how to please you. After being your husband, it’d be a shame for him not to know how to make his pretty wife cum, right? He knows what makes you purr, he knows how to get your eyes rolling back.

“Shit, this pussy is so wet—fuck!” He grabs your leg, propping it up on the bathroom counter, wanting to be able to reach deeper, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. Gojo watches you through the mirror, taking delight in the expression on your face. Your brows were furrowed in pleasure, eyes glazed over as you tried to hold back your moans, yet you were failing. His cock dragged along your velvety walls, your brain turning into mush as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Satoru!” You moaned, his name rolling off of your tongue so smoothly. His fingertips dug into your skin, gripping tightly as he felt you clench around him, sucking him back in every time he threatened to pull away. It was like your pussy was made for him.

“My pretty fucking wife,” he huskily whispered in your ear as he pressed his chest up against your back. His hand gripped a fistful of your hair, turning your head towards him before placing his lips on yours. He swallowed your moans as your tongues sloppily moved against each other, lips moving in sync with his. He pulled away, staring down at you with such a primal look in his eyes, one that sent shivers through your entire body. You didn’t take your eyes off of him, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you basked in the feeling of pleasure. “You’re all mine. Fucking mine. Everything.”

“‘Toru,” you whined, eyes fluttering shut, “I’m close! Mmm, fuck, please don’t stop! Please, please keep fucking me!” You begged. His hips slammed against yours, lewd squelches from your pussy mixed with you and gojos moans was like something out of a porno. Each thrust had your eyes rolling back, the pleasure starting to overwhelm you as another orgasm was forced on the edge. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” You screamed, body shaking against his hold as your orgasm overtook your entire self.

“That’s it, baby, cum for me. Cum around this dick. No one can fuck you like this, no one but me. Pussy was made for me.” His lips were pressed up against your ear, darting his tongue out to lick your skin. He continued his ministrations, movements becoming sloppy as he chased his own orgasm, the sheer feeling of you squeezing around him sent his brain into overdrive. “Look at me.” He gripped your chin. “You love me?” He asked, soaking up the look of your watery eyes. “Gonna have my baby again, huh? Make you a mommy.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he pounds into you.

“Yes, yes, I love you.” You nod, staring up at him with doe eyes, tears pricking the corners. “I love you.” The words are barely above a whisper.

“Fuckkk.” Those three words were all Gojo wanted to hear from you, the sound of your voice brining him closer and closer to his orgasm. “I love you too, baby.” The feverish kiss he lands on your lips sends you into a spiral, his hips moving sporadically, making your legs shake.

“Cum in me, please. I want it.” You’re breathing heavily, the consequences of your words no longer existing to you as you relish in the moment.

“Shiiit!” Gojo thrusts deeply into your once more, holding himself there as thick ropes of his cum coat your walls. “Ohhh, mmmm, fuck me!” He lets out a shaky breath, cum still spurting from the head of his cock. You whimper at the feeling of him filling you up, slowly removing himself from you. He chuckled as he watches his cum ooze out of you, dripping down to your clit before he pushes it back in with his thumb. “Goddamn, baby.” He lands a smack on your ass, squeezing it as he looks at you, hair clinging to his sweaty forehead. His eyes avert to your phone, seeing that it was ringing, a name he’s never heard of displayed on the screen. “Uh oh.” He picks up your phone, seeing all the missed calls from what he assumes is your date. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“What?” You completely blanked out, forgetting about the date you had. “Fuck.” You groan in annoyance, snatching your phone from him. “I forgot. What do I say?” You look towards Gojo for help.

“Who gives a shit. You’re with me now.” He snatches the phone back, placing it on the counter. “Let’s get in the shower, c’mon.” He pecks your lips.

“You’re so annoying,” you playfully replied, rolling your eyes with a scoff.

repost from my old account

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXV)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Tim pulls a fast one on Batman for their mutual benefit. Everybody giggles. Danny goggles.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

(Additional TW: I think this counts as a panic attack ngl)

On the one hand. The room Danny’s in has a killer view of the earth from the moon.

The wall is basically just one big window. Danny is also apparently permitted to mash his face into the glass and ogle the Earth from Space for as long as he wants until the stinky dad, whoever he is, finally emerges from the depths of the building.

Diana’s the only one beside him today. She looks nice—nicer than usual, in her armor and bright clothing rather than soft scrubs and hair net. She can push his chair without getting tired—she could probably fly and carry him too, if she had to, so. Danny’s maybe counting on her liking him if this stinky dad tries to be mean.

So. Diana (nice lady) and Danny (half-dead ghost boy) are quietly seated in a dim, peaceful board room, absorbing the early morning (?) space radiation when the door hisses open across the room.

In the doorway is a long, dark, shadow of a man.

…And the green guy!!

Okay, if the stinky dad man brought a friend to this meeting the same way Diana’s meant to supervise him, Danny feels like he’s been lawyered up for the sake of some kind of court trial. This is not fair. Danny wasn’t able to review his case with his legal representation before this.

Well. Danny fumes. Whatever. His lawyer is Diana, the most powerful living being he’s seen ever in his life, and she can totally kick the green guy’s ass. Hell, Danny could probably kick the green guy’s ass.

...You know. If he wasn’t. Sick.

The stinky dad guy looks a lot like the blob his kid drew him as. That’s kind of neat—his suit is all black with little to no variation, which sort of just washes out the colors Danny might have been able to see if his eyes were still good. He’s very quiet, which is nice, and he’s very not-trying-to-read-Danny’s-mind, which is even better.

The two sit. Danny’s already in a wheelchair, so he just lets Diana wheel him to the table. The lady sits beside him in the spinny office chair.

Hello, the green guy opens with, already toying with the edges of Danny’s aura.

Danny sends back an abundance of ass-kicking emotions.

…Alright then, the green man capitulates, the barest hint of bemusement quickly stifled.

Good. Danny is mean. He’s awake enough to be mad about other people touching his aura from any end of his personal bubble.

But then the green guy…says stuff to the dad guy? And it’s very? Quiet?

Explanations, the green guy says. The image of a sign language translator at a baseball game floats over to him, and—

…Oh. He’s translating. For Danny.

That’s…nice? Nicer than Danny expected, honestly? Most of the time, people are perfectly happy to misinterpret him. It was kind of the way of the world at this point. Getting blamed for stuff, getting accused of stuff…

Man. If they turn out to be indoctrinating him for secret war purposes, at least they’re going all in. Danny might actually. You know. Like it here. A little.

He squirms in his chair, and tries not to look at anyone in particular. Diana—the lady who’s been nice to him—makes as if to straighten his hair for him, and remembers at the last second that he doesn’t like to be touched.

And sure. Danny doesn’t want to be touched. By bad guys.

…But Diana’s been really nice to him, so. Maybe. He scratches at the back of his neck, and ducks his head down—and remembers to use his words. “Yes,” he consents verbally. He can’t make eye contact. But he can…let her. Brush his hair back. A little.

Diana asks something long and complicated—and the green guy presses an image of Wonder Woman asking permission, being kind, being gentle­—up against the edges of Danny’s awareness.

Danny nods at the floor instead of at the lady. It’s fine. She’s fine. It’s fine.

And her fingers carefully brush through the front end of his fringe, and Danny. Danny is so normal about it. He doesn’t even cry or anything. Not even in front of his friend’s stinky dad.

And she doesn’t do it like Mom did it. And she doesn’t ruffle his hair like Dad did.

But it’s. Nice. And she doesn’t pull.

…And she doesn’t hit.

Danny eventually leans back into his wheelchair. It’s a little bit embarrassing to be halfway in and halfway out, but. Whatever. The scary-looking-dad with the earsies on his helmet has his own teenager. He should understand what it feels like to get emotionally weird with your teen in a public place. If he doesn’t, well...he wouldn’t be a great dad, then, and his opinion would suck anyway.

Based on what Danny knows about the masked kid, Danny isn’t sure the guy would tolerate a bad dad. The teen seems kinda unhinged.

The man says something, and the green guy presses a number of translated feelings against Danny’s awareness: Greetings. Questions about Danny’s wellbeing. Curiosity, but not demanding.

“…Hello,” Danny says back, and. Waves.

The man waves back. He’s got little claws on his gloves.

…Like a cat? Is it to go with his ears? Danny wonders about the possibilities of the guy being cat themed. It’s possible, presumably.

So…they want to know how Danny’s doing? Danny shrugs, and he glances at Diana, since, you know, she could probably fill them in? She does speak their language. And she’s been here the whole time.

The lady leans in close to him, black hair falling out from behind her ear. “What do you want to say?” she whispers into her ear, hand covering her mouth from their watchers.

Uh. It’s up to…Danny?? Somehow??

Danny winces. “…Good?” he tries, unsure if the word he uses means okay or fine or well. “…Not…hungry?”

“Very good,” Diana agrees, a little louder. She looks proud. Being not hungry must mean a lot to her, then. It means a lot to Danny too—he can remember the sensation of his stomach rubbing against itself, friction pulling raw at his insides as acid ate at him.

It was. Bad.

It was bad.

Danny’s glad he’s not there anymore. Anyway, there’s a guy in the room who reads minds, and Danny doesn’t really want to share that memory with anyone ever; especially someone who could turn it back on him.

The stinky dad says something else, but he uses words too thick and long for Danny to understand. The green guy translates, pure conceptual recall brushing against Danny’s outer aura—Needs? Wants?

…Danny frowns.

Danny looks at Diana, who looks back at him. Wants, needs…? What?

“Do you need aniþing?” Diana whispers to him, which. You know. Mostly makes sense.

Does Danny…need anything? He has medical care, he has food, he has water, he has toys and brain teasers, even…he has people to hang out with, he has people who stretch his legs with him so that he can go back to normal…heck, he doesn’t even have to clean his own waste bag. There’s people who do that for him.

Like. What more could Danny ask for?

Danny shrugs. He just wants to heal up and run away. Maybe…maybe, if Diana is real and not just pretending to like him to keep an eye on him, she’d let him visit her later or something. Danny would do what Dani doe—did. What Dani…did. And he’d just go a bunch of places and come back when he wants to.

But. No. There’s nothing he really needs right now.

The pointy-eared guy and the green guy share a look and a couple quiet words. Danny flares his annoyance into the silence, but all he gets is a silent Apology/Apology, which isn’t answers.

Ugh. Danny leans over the arm of his wheelchair. This is kind of super boring; it’s more boring than it is frustrating, even.

The stinky dad guy says something else, and Danny feels the push and pull of something double ended tugging on the outer edge of his aura. Additional/information, giving/take?

Danny really wishes he’d brought a fidget toy or something. His nerves are ramping up but all he can do is contort his fingers together, feeling the strain in and the joints click as he pushes them together and twists them apart. They want…to ask him questions? No, they’re already asking him questions. They want Danny to…give them questions??

…Danny doesn’t really want to. Still, he probably…should.

“The…space station,” he says, using the wrong word for their big space building but not knowing the better one; “Is this…where…why is it?”

The black-caped dad grumbles something vaguely approving. A tablet pops out of the table—spooky—and the guy starts drawing on it, explaining all the way. The green guy simplifies more of the verbally complicated concepts for Danny as they go.

Anyway. So they’re in space because it’s their…job? Danny thinks? They do…fighting stuff. Which Danny knew. Because he’d seen them on the news.

But it looks like they do a lot of things—they clean up after storms, and chase regular bad guys and super-bad-guys instead of just big ones. And they stop bad aliens from hurting people on Earth.

The green guy shifts from a green-looking, pointy-headed, red-eyed form to a warm, brown, human skin tone. And even. Like. Human clothing.

Danny stares.

…And the guy immediately takes back his natural form, his body physically shifting and morphing, which, fair, but holy crap. He’s living, on Earth. He passes as normal, on Earth. No one snitches on him. No one’s selling him to the government for parts. No one’s trapping him in a cage and not feeding him.

This guy works here, and everyone lets him.

Danny shifts in his chair. He…he wants that. He wants that. He wants to pass as human and not have to worry about…about anyone getting rid of him. He wants to go back to school. He wants to hide, and never ever not ever be found by anyone or anything when he does.

“I want that,” Danny says. There’s no inflection. He feels dead. He is dead, but usually he doesn’t feel it. “What do I do for…that.”

Help/Searching/Finding? the green—alien—questions, but there’s nothing for Danny to find. He knows exactly where everyone he loves is—and unless they’re already fully formed in the ghost zone…

…Well. Danny has forever to wait and see if he’ll see his friends and sister again. Maybe he’ll find them again one day, in a world purely green and glowing.

He shakes his head.

The next question comes…softer. Gentler. The mental push feels more like a breeze than a gale. Friends…Home/family?

The question comes tinged with all sorts of sensations that Danny’s suppressed—warmth, security, happiness, oxytocin, fondness, pride and being the source thereof, warmth and love, love, love—

Danny’s sweating. He can’t stop. His hands are shaking faster than usual—he kicks the brakes off his chair with the heels of his palms, and jerks the wheels back, pulling away from the desk—

He’s halfway across the room before he hears the noise. It’s just. Noise. It’s Diana, carefully shushing the loud heartbeat churning in his ears, hands on his hand, trying not to cage him but trying to keep skin on skin contact. Her hand is on the back of his hand, and on his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Diana whispers. Danny’s shaking. His whole body is shaking. “Shhh, sh sh sh. It’s alright, it’s okay.”

It’s not it’s not it’snoit’snotit’sNOT. His sister is dead. His friends are dead. His parents sold his captors the equipment to catch him and they didn’t care if he got hurt doing it and now they’re DEAD. They tore open his hometown down the middle just to catch him, they stole him—they took his dead parent’s things as tools to hurt him—they HURT HIM and there isn’t—he can’t—he can’t—

Something is holding him down, and Danny thrashes. He has arms, but they’re injured—he has legs but he needs a tail and he—and—

He cries into Diana’s arms, sobbing and wailing. It’s a miracle that the building stays together. She holds him tighter, and he cries even harder into her soft under-layers.

He wants to run away. He needs to run away. Someone is holding him, and he can’t even flicker through her the way he wants to; his core is already too strained just from talking.

Danny’s sick. He’s dying. He’s—

“Take a breath,” Diana whispers, calm and sure. She models it for him. Danny gasps in air. “Good. Lete it out slow. As bobbels in a straw.”

He tries to copy her he does and she’ll be so angry if he can’t do it right on the first try but she lets him try, over and over again, until Danny’s able to stop hiccupping and leaking tears and ectoplasm all over her and realize that she’s holding him like a baby. Like. Actually cradling him against his body armor.

…You know what. He’s too tired to even be embarrassed. Screw that. Danny leans all the way over her and goes completely limp. Someone else can deal with his him for a little bit.

She does. Diana just…holds him.

It’s nice. Mom and Dad used to do that for him, when Danny was still…more human, he supposed. More than he is right now.

Something else touches his hand. Danny looks blearily downwards.

The teenager’s dad gets to his knees and takes Danny’s hand—and he doesn’t need the translation to understand.

“I’m sorry,” the man says, over and over again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Danny blinks sleepily. What does his friend’s stinky dad have to be sorry for? He didn’t even do anything to Danny in the first place.

Danny won’t remember, afterwards, being wheeled back to his room for a nap. They must have wheeled him back, though, because the alternative is that Diana tucked him into bed like a baby, and that’s just kind of embarrassing to even think about for too long.

[munsonsmixtapes]

First Time

Find part two here!

virgin!Eddie x experienced!fem!reader

since smut won the poll, heres what I came up with!

summary: you hook up with a very inexperienced Eddie in a club bathroom

cw: MDNI 18+ smut (p in v) oral (m receiving) Eddie receives a handjob

The club was very overcrowded with dancing bodies covering the dance floor. You had a drink in your hand and were dancing the night away without a care in the world. By that time in the night, you usually had someone to take home, but you came up empty handed. Nobody looked good. They were all either drunk off their asses or definitely looked like they’d slip something into your drink when you weren’t looking.

You scanned the place one last time, deciding that if you didn’t find anyone, you’d just go home by yourself, your only company being your fingers and vibrator. They did the job just fine, but sometimes you just didn’t want to fall asleep alone.

You noticed a table that was to the far left. Four men were sitting at it, laughing their asses off about something while sipping from their drinks. Your eyes locked on the one with curly hair, deciding that he was the one. He was so pretty and definitely your type. As you got closer, you could see that he had a beard which made you even more attracted to him.

You could practically imagine his beard scraping your chin and above your top lip as he kissed you roughly, his fingers digging into your hips as he tried to pull you closer.

As you approached the table, you noticed the small silver hoop looped through the right side of his nose. You loved men with piercings, finding them to be very attractive. Everyone at the table but him looked your way, all curious as to who you were going to talk to.

“Hey handsome,” you greeted but he still wasn’t making eye contact with you, almost as if he was avoiding it. The Black guy sitting next to him nudged his shoulder and he turned in his direction, only for his friend to point to you.

“Me?” He seemed confused as he pointed at himself, his eyebrows furrowing.

“You are handsome, aren’t you?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow as he got all flustered. God, he was adorable.

“I mean, I guess so,” he shrugged. You loved a modest man. Too many of them had a lot of confidence for being so mediocre.

“What’s your name?” His own name completely faded from his brain. Women didn’t usually talk to him, especially not super hot women such as yourself.

“Eddie,” the guy on the other side of him answered for him. For whatever reason, the name suited him. He looked like an Eddie.

“Well, Eddie, do you want to dance with me?” Dance? Eddie could do that to save his life, but since such a beautiful woman was asking, he had no choice but to say yes.

“He’d love to,” the same guy answered for him and pushed him up from his seat. You weren’t going to dance with him if he didn’t want to. Consent was very important and only wanted to do things with people if they were really enthusiastic about it. And that went for both inside and outside the bedroom.

“Would you?” You asked, wanting to make sure.

“I really would,” he nodded furiously and stood up from his chair, taking the hand that you were offering him.

You pulled Eddie out on the dance floor and he was quick to turn to his friends in panic. He had no idea what he was doing, but they all just gave him a reassuring thumbs up.

He liked the way your hand felt in his, all soft and warm. He let you lead him through all of the drunk, dancing bodies on the floor, just happy to be there. He tried his best to keep up with how fast your legs were moving. There was no way that he was losing you in the crowd. He could barely handle going to clubs with his friends, let alone by himself.

This whole thing was so overstimulating; the lights, the loud music and the people yelling over the loud music. Eddie hated it, but he only went because his friends liked it. While they danced, he sat at the table, throwing back glasses of whiskey like they were going out of style.

But there he was, actually getting his ass out onto the floor because you had asked him. He had denied so many invitations because he was afraid of looking stupid or being made fun of which had just been a product of not being desired in his youth. He was the freak, a loser, a person who just wasn’t worth anyone’s time. So why did he think that he was worth yours?

You stopped in the center of the floor and turned your back to him, taking no time to grind your ass on his dick to the beat of the pop song that was blasting through the speakers. Eddie had no idea what he was doing, but he was loving whatever was going on.

You grabbed his hands that were still by his side and guided him to rest them on your waist. You moved to the music together and Eddie could already feel his dick getting hard at the feelings of your ass grinding against his crotch.

If you noticed, you didn’t say anything. You turned around as the song chance and draped your arms around his shoulders. Eddie’s hands ended up on your ass when you moved in his arms and quickly slid his hands up to your back, thinking that it was a safe place for them.

“You’re quite the dancer, Eddie,” you smiled and he was grateful that you couldn’t see his blush in the terrible club lighting. He knew you were lying but he appreciated the compliment. He couldn’t dance to save his life and was sure that you agreed.

“Oh, am I?” He sounded so unsure and you thought it was refreshing that a man as attractive as him had no idea how good he was at anything.

“Definitely,” you nodded then leaned closer, your lips right by your ear. “You know, I can take care of that little problem in your pants if you’d like.” He felt a shiver run down his spine at both your breath and thinking about you “taking care” of his boner.

The thought made him kind of nervous. He didn’t have any sexual experience, hell, he hadn’t even kissed anyone since Josie Geller when he was thirteen and that hadn’t really counted. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had offers, he’d had many, but his insecurity always got the best of him. He was just convinced that it was all a prank and was quick to shut it down, not wanting to fall for anything like that again. He had had enough tin high school.

But for some reason, he has fully believed that you were being genuine. He could see the look in your eyes; it was excited and full of lust. You had to be telling the truth. Either that, or you were just a really good actress and he didn’t think that was the case.

“I would love that.” His words came out breathy and rushed and he hoped that you couldn’t see how desperate he was for you to help him with his little problem.

You took him by the hand and the two of you made a beeline for the bathroom. Eddie was almost giggling while you kept it cool. You had had your fair share of bathroom sex while he hadn’t had sex period. It was almost funny how opposite you were.

You pushed the women’s bathroom door open and checked to make sure no one else was in there before pushing him into one of the stalls. Eddie pressed his hands against the walls so he wouldn’t fall into the toilet while you locked the door and turned around to face him, your eyes lighting up as you took him in.

He was so hot even in the dark of the bathroom stall with the way his messy, curly hair that you just wanted to run your hands through, giving it a tug as pounded into you. Your gaze moved to his pretty pink lips and you could see that they were a bit chapped but you hardly minded. You just needed to feel them on yours.

You leaned forward, but Eddie put his hand on your shoulder to stop you. He took a deep breath before licking his lips, preparing himself to tell you the truth. He felt he owed that to you.

“Before we start anything, I should tell you that I’m a virgin.” Your eyes widened, now feeling guilty for pulling him into the stall. You pulled your hands away, backing up to the door, trying your best to give him space in the small area.

“Oh my god, I-I had no idea.” You put your hands up to your face to cover it, but Eddie quickly pulled them away.

“How could you have known?” Eddie wasn’t going to blame you for something you didn’t know. He just wanted you to be aware of the situation before you continued.

“We don’t-we don’t have to-”

“But I want to.” Even though Eddie didn’t know you, he still felt like he could trust you, not getting a single feeling in his gut like he had all the other times women approached him. It just felt right being there with you and he was hoping you felt the same.

“You do?” You wanted to be one hundred percent certain before you continued, wanting him to be absolutely sure that it was what he wanted.

“So badly. I mean,” his snapped to his still very hard dick and your gaze followed. “Still want to take care of it for me?”

“You’re sure you want to lose it to a stranger?” Eddie stepped closer to you so that you were chest to chest. He looked at you, taking in all your features and now that he was looking at you up close, he could confirm that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and couldn’t have been more honored to have you take his virginity.

“I’m sure.” He gave you a nod and you slowly moved your arms to wrap around his neck while his went to your waist. You slowly inched your face towards his, capturing his bottom lip between your two.

He was quick to respond, mimicking your actions, hoping that he was as good at it as you were. He honestly had no idea what he was doing, but he was confident that you’d teach him, showing him exactly what he needed to do so he was fully prepared for next time.

The kiss slowly progressed to hot and heavy as you swiped your tongue along Eddie’s bottom lip. He opened up and let his tangle with yours, a whimper escaping from the back of his throat as he did so. His eyes widened at the noise and he pulled away, covering his mouth with his hand.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” you told him softly. “Make as much noise as you want. And actually, I found that really hot.” Even though first times could be awkward for some, you wanted Eddie’s to be memorable for him. Something he could look back on positively and not in embarrassment.

“Oh.” His cheeks burned at your compliment and you thought it was adorable how you could make him blush so easily.

“Wanna make it again?” Eddie thought for a moment and decided that he did, especially since you thought it sounded hot.

“I do, actually,” he nodded and your lips were back on his in a second. You licked into his mouth once again and he let out another whimper, not holding it back this time. You felt your cunt getting wet at hearing the noise and you slow moved your hand down his chest, stopping right when it got to his belt buckle.

You pulled away and looked at him for permission. He nodded his head furiously, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and you slowly unbuckled his belt, giving him plenty of time to back out if he wanted to. You pulled down his pants and let them his the tops of his shoes before shimmying his underwear down his legs. You let out a gasp at how big he was, feeling honored that you were the first one that he was going to let touch it.

“Wow,” you said, looking back up at his eyes. “You really are huge, aren’t you? I’m going to consider myself grateful that you’re going to let me take care of it.”

“Wouldn’t want it to be anyone else, to be honest.”

Beads of pre were falling from the head and you looked around for your purse that had fallen to the floor at some point. You pulled out a small bottle of lube and put some in one of your hands before letting it and your purse to fall back to the floor.

You stepped forward and grabbed hold of Eddie’s dick, moving your hand up and down the shaft slowly to test the waters to see if he liked it. His hands moved to hold on to the wall as he threw his head back. A moan fell from his lips and you were convinced that you hadn’t heard anything hotter.

You continued to pump, making your movements harder and faster at his commands, wanting him to be in control and tell you what he wanted. Moan after moan fell from his lips and now you felt like he was ready for more.

“Can I suck you off?” You asked, your hand slowing down, but still moving at a good pace. Eddie still had his head titled backwards, his eyes closed and you felt yourself getting even more wet at seeing him like that, coming undone from your touch.

“God, please,” he groaned and you slowly dropped to your knees.

Your hand wrapped around the base and you took him into your mouth giving his dick a suck while your tongue swirled around the head. Eddie’s hands pressed flat against the stall as he threw his head back even more at the pleasure he was experiencing. God, this was so much better than using his hand.

“Shit,” he moaned, his breath becoming heavy. He closed his eyes, trying hard to prevent his knees from buckling. “Fuck.”

You continued to suck, taking all of him into your mouth, ignoring the fact that your eyes were watering, desperate to give him the best head of his life. Your tongue swiped along to tip another time as you sucked the hardest you could, eliciting the prettiest sounds from Eddie.

For the finale, you stood up and gently pulled down on his chin to force him to look at you. His eyes opened and he watched you swallow, feeling his knees buckle as you did so. God, you were so fucking hot.

“Fuck,” he moaned and pulled you into a kiss, his beard scratching roughly at your skin as he took what he wanted from you, you happy to be pliant under his touch. His hands moved down to your pants and you let him unbutton them, pushing them down so they hit your ankles and you kicked them off, leaving them in a small pile next to you.

“Is that all for me?” Eddie asked, his lips parting as he stared down at the wet patch that had dampened your underwear.

“And only for you,” you winked. “You think you’re ready to get inside me?”

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” he breathed.

You pulled a condom from your purse and opened it before sliding it onto his cock. Once he was all set, you stepped forward, helping him line up with your pussy. He then slowly entered you, the two of you letting out moans as he did so.

He grabbed onto your waist and slowly pumped in and out of you, trying to feel it out for himself. You moaned as he pumped, closing your eyes in pleasure as you grabbed onto his neck.

“Am I doing this right?” He asked, unsure and you just moaned in response.

“Oh, Eddie.”

He began to moved a little faster which elicited more moans from you as you wound your hands into his hair, giving it tug after tug. You both moved together, feeling nothing but pleasure as he began to pound into you.

“Just like that, baby, yeah,” you whined and Eddie continued, feeling super confident about his movements, knowing that you’d let him know if you didn’t like something.

Sex was far better than he thought it was going to be, but he was sure that it was all because of you. You had been nothing but sweet and kind and made him feel like a king. How was he going to have sex with anyone else when his first time was practically perfect.

“Oh my god, I think I’m gonna-” he cut himself off as he reached his climax, suddenly feeling embarrassed that it had happened so quick.

“That’s right, honey,” you told him. “Let it out. You’re doing so well.”

“But I finished.” You honestly couldn’t have cared less how quickly he had finished. That just meant that you could have gone for round two that much faster if he was up for it.

“That’s okay,” you assured him as he pulled out. “Do you wanna…take this back to my place? I think it’d be more preferable to being here.”

“I’d love to go back to your place.” He pulled the condom off of his cock and tied it off before disposing of it. He then pulled up his underwear and pants before buckling his belt.

“Do you want to call a cab while I clean myself up here?” You asked and Eddie just nodded silently. You both shuffled around the stall so he could get to the door. You pressed a lingering kiss to his lips before he opened the door. He then stepped out and pulled out his phone to call the cab company while you took a piss then cleaned yourself up.

You were confident that you had just had the best sex of your life. Who knew that a virgin knew exactly how to make you cum as opposed to men who slept around all the time? Maybe it was because he was actually interested in pleasing you.

As Eddie ordered the cab, he couldn’t help but let the images of you orgasming flash in his head. It was the hottest thing hearing you moan like that and he was looking forward to hearing it again and again even after the night was over. Maybe if he played his cards right, you’d invite him over again.

You exited the bathroom as Eddie hung up the phone and placed your lips on his, pulling him in for a sweet kiss that has been the exact opposite of the last one you had given him.

“C’mon,” you reached for his hand once you pulled away. “Let get out of here.” He put his hand in yours and you led him out of the bathroom and through the club, confident that you’d make his second time even better than the first.

[t-r99]

Praise

Karasu Tabito x reader

Listen, @nesssssssssssssssssssssss asked for some more Caw Caw Bitch and I am more than happy to oblige.

I love how this page gradually went from simping for Aiku to simping for Karasu. I also noticed that my Karasu posts have gotten more likes and reblogs lately and FUCK YEAH. MORE LOVE FOR CAW CAW BITCH.

warnings: soft smut

wc: 730

Do we think Karasu would be into locker room sex? Of course he would, is that even a question?

He is not the typical, "I don't care if someone walks in." type who would be turned on by a little voyeurism because your pretty moans and soft whimpers are only for him to hear. He's the only guy in the world who gets to see you naked and flushed in the face and all fucked out.

It's always the same. The guys would want to go out to grab a bite and Karasu would decline and say he's tired and just wants to go home, and theeeen he would call you.

He's sensitive, okay? We all know how he feels about himself, so despite being a top player and one of the strongest members of his team, Karasu feels mediocre and not worthy of the praise everyone showers him with.

ayooo this fucker would be such a whore for praise

Whenever his mind wanders and he starts to put himself down, Karasu immediately goes to you for affirmation.

"I did good, didn't I?" His voice is breathy and low, and it's the sexiest sound in existence.

More than that, he did amazing during the game. "You did amazing." You give his lips a quick peck. "'m so proud of you."

That makes his heart swell. "Yeah?" Karasu pants.

"Uh huh . . ." Your hips falter as you move, seated comfortably on his lap with his cock filling you up deliciously while seated on the bench

Everything you do makes his ego swell until he feels like a God, every little movement and noise in that pretty little voice of yours that sounds like sweet heaven. It makes him greedy for more, desperate to have you praise him. "Tell me," Karasu breathes and moves a hand up to caress your flushed cheek. "Tell me how amazing I am." He smirks.

So cute when he begs for praise like this. "You are the best," You've got your hands planted firmly on his chest, his skin warm and heart pounding. "most amazing," He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and groans. "player out there," You say softly, continuing with, "and my pretty boy."

"I'm hot." He corrects.

"And pretty."

"I'm also hot." Karasu smirks.

"You're both." Your lips slot against his, all soft and swollen and a pretty shade of pink. "You did great out there." You whisper.

That gets his heart pumping, and his dick throbbing.

"Well, I had to play to impress. You were watching." Karasu grips your sides, palms hot against your skin where he holds tight and essentially just manhandles you down onto the bench.

Oh, shit, this position feels good.

He pushes your legs against your chest and the new position makes you see stars with how deep he reaches inside you. "You're so pretty like this." Karasu breathes. Eyes wandering down, he sucks in a sharp breath as he takes in the sight of your sloppy hole sucking him in. "Fuck."

The best thing Karasu knows is the sound of your heavenly voice making sweet like sounds for him, and he can't stand thought of someone else hearing your pretty moans echo and bounce of the locker room walls.

He moves down in a flash and captures your lips in a heated kiss. It's hungry and messy, so intense it makes your head feel light. "Not too loud now," Karasu smirks against your lips. "don't want no one to hear now, do we?" He kisses you again and picks up the speed, pounding into you with fervour and groaning into your mouth. Everything about you is just so delicious from your soft lips to your smooth skin and your tight little hole that takes him so well.

Your arms lock around his neck, holding him close as you deepen the kiss in a wordless plea for him to cum for you.

"'m cum'n . . ." He pants, his thrusts growing sloppy.

His cock throbs inside you and it makes you shiver with need. "Inside."

That one word alone makes his balls draw tight and pushes him over the edge, painting your insides white and filling you to the brim.

He's just such a sucker for you and turns into a sensitive little puppy in your arms. How could he ever deny what you beg for in that sweet voice?

*

i mean come the fuck on. are you telling me this bitch with THIS smug look on his pretty face wouldn't fuck you senseless in the locker rooms?

[skz317cb97]

The Club

Bang Chan x Thick female reader

Word count: 6.3K

Synopsis: Friends to lovers such a cute trope... in theory. You go to the club with your two best friends and the clueless man you love, your roommate Chan. Will you be able to stand watching him hook up with yet another flawless girl that you could never compare to or are you finally at the end of your rope.

A/N: 18+ ONLY! I don't know where this came from I just knew I wanted to do another thick reader fic. I honestly pulled it from my ass which I guess is what all writing is really. ANYWAY! I hope you enjoy and if you do please reblog, comment, like, send an ask whatever I love to hear from you guys. As always warnings and smut below the cut!

Warnings: Body image issues, cussing/strong language, unprotected piv intercourse (please use protection), cream pie, crying after sex. I think that's all, this one is fairly tame. If I missed something please let me know and I'll add it to the warnings asap!

Your best friend and roommate Chan knocked on your bedroom door and then walked into your room a second after, a typical move on his part.  

“Come right in why don’t ya.” You scoffed. Chan flashed his megawatt smile that you failed to see since you were laying on your bed face down after having the worst week of your life. He picked up one of your throw pillows and flung it at your head. 

“Hey wake up! Minho and Jisung called, we’re going to the club tonight so get ready!” You rolled over looking at the ceiling and pushed the pillow Chan threw on the floor instead of flinging it back towards him, he frowned a little. 

“Pass. You guys go without me.” The last thing you wanted to do was go and watch your three pretty best friends get hit on while you sat at a booth drowning your loneliness in whatever you felt like shooting back. It always happened and of course it did. They were three attractive men that could dance, they were articulate and kind as well. So they had their pick of the women whenever you all went out to the clubs. The club experience was not the same for you.  

You were bigger than most if not all the other girls at the club and your dancing was mediocre at best. Most of the time you would dance for a bit with the guys and eventually, one by one, they would break off with whatever girl rubbed against them. Then you would make your way to a booth and be there for the remainder of the night. No one ever approached you except your friends who would regularly check up on you, sit for a bit, maybe order a drink, then back out on the dance floor. You were sure it was a great time for them and usually it didn’t bother you that much but after your day, your week, you didn’t have the energy. Chan was persistent and wasn’t having it though. 

“What?! No no way we’re not going without you, we all always go together.” He grabbed you by your hands and you wished it didn’t make your heart race. Chan pulled you until you were sitting up. 

“So get. Dressed.” You rolled your eyes and pulled your hands away. 

“I said no Chan.” He rolled his eyes right back. 

“Give me one good reason why?” He crossed his arms in front of him and you let out a huff of frustrated air. A good reason why? Because you’d had a horrible week and you didn’t want to watch Chan rubbing against and kissing another perfect girl that he would bring home and you would ultimately have to listen to the soft moans and panting of a stunning girl you could only ever wish to be. You couldn’t say that to him though, so you sat there quietly. 

“See you don’t have one. Minho and Jisung will be here in forty-five. Get. Ready!” He spun around and left your room before you could argue more. So this would be your night, again. You just hoped your stupid heart could take it. Sure, being in love with your best friend and roommate is such a cute cliché trope until you’re living it, then its agony. You got up and started getting ready and by ready, you changed out of your work clothes into street clothes. You didn’t try, you just didn’t feel like faking it. So a basic pair of jeans, a tshirt, some converse, and your hair up in a ponytail was your attire for the evening. 

Chan thought he was going to have to drag you from your room by force but when Minho and Jisung showed up you walked out dressed and ready. Naturally since Minho and Jisung were your two only other friends they knew you had feelings for Chan. Not because you ever told them, nor would you admit it when Minho would allude to it. Minho just wasn’t an idiot and had eyes and Jisung... well Minho told him everything. Jisung was skeptical still. As soon as you walked out Minho knew something was off. You weren’t your normal glow-y self. He made fun of you constantly calling you concentrated sunshine because you just had this glow about you that made others around you smile and even though he teased you for it he found it endearing and a wonderful quality to have in a friend but that night he didn’t see it. He walked up to you. 

“You feeling okay?” You nodded. 

“Yea sure like a million dollars.” You deadpanned and went to walk past him to follow Jisung and Chan out the door but he stopped you. 

“Hey...” You looked at him and your eyes just looked empty. 

“You sure you should be going out?” You took a deep breath and tried to get a grip. 

“I’m okay Min really, let's just go please?” He was concerned but he wasn’t going to push you, not tonight at least. He grabbed your hand and you both headed out the door with your friends. 

Once you all arrived at the club the guys migrated towards the dance floor like you all always did, dance, then drink. You broke off and made your way over to the bar quietly. When Minho turned to make sure you were still right behind him, he didn’t see you anywhere. Chan already had a gorgeous girl in a silver sling of a club dress shaking her ass and backing it up on him and Jisung was just dancing with the mass of people. Minho couldn’t just dance and have carefree fun knowing you weren’t, he walked over to Chan and his ‘dance partner’. 

“Hey, did you see where y/n went off to? She was right behind me then gone.” Minho yelled over the music. 

“Probably getting a drink she’s been in a mood today I don’t know why.” Minho watched the girl grind her ass against Chan’s crotch and Chan’s hand slid across her backside as he moved his hips with her. Minho rolled his eyes, of course he didn’t know why. 

“You're my best friend but you’re an idiot sometimes...” Minho mumbled. 

“Huh?” Chan couldn’t hear him over the music, Minho raised his voice over it again. 

“I said I’m gonna check by the bar.” Chan nodded and waved at Minho as he made his way towards the bar rail. You had initially been at the bar but as soon as you had a drink you made your way over to one of the tables you would sit at usually. When Minho didn’t find you at the bar he knew he’d find you there. He slid in next to you at the booth you’d chosen for the night. You downed the rest of your glass and he looked at you. 

“How many is that?” You looked at him blankly. 

“Does it matter?” He arched one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows at you and narrowed his eyes. You sighed. 

“It’s only my first calm down officer.” Minho nodded. 

“Come, dance with me.” 

“Pass.” Minho grabbed you by the hand and pulled you. 

“I don’t think that was a request. Dancing, now.” You got up because at least you could get another drink in the process. Minho guided you towards the dance floor and started moving his body to the beat, you bobbed back and forth half-heartedly. By the second song Minho had gotten you to lighten up a bit, it helped that Jisung had joined you both and you had your friends near you. Well not all of them. You had been watching your feet or looking at Minho so you could read his lips when he spoke to you. Then you scanned the mass of people dancing and your eyes landed right on Chan and the silver dress girl making out and dancing, Chan’s hand gripping her ass as she giggled and he kissed her neck, their sweaty body’s moving in tandem with each other. Your face fell as your heart shattered into a million pieces. Minho could see it happening in your eyes. He scanned your line of sight and saw Chan and the girl. Before Minho could say anything, you excused yourself. 

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” You pried your way through the people on the dance floor trying to get out of there and into the fresh air, you needed air. Jisung was confused when you dashed off and Minho just raised his hand as he followed you. 

“Just... stay here I’ve got her.” Minho cut through the crowd right behind you. You burst out the club door and into the cool night, taking gasps of air trying to will any and everything in your stomach to stay put. Minho popped out a second later and almost bumped right into you. 

“Hey, look... you know... about Ch-” You cut Minho off. 

“It was just hot I needed some air.” Minho rolled his eyes at you. 

“y/n I know-” You cut him off more forcefully, tears slightly collecting in the corners of your eyes. 

“I was hot Minho!” He stopped, pushing you would do no good and he didn’t want to upset you more than you already were. You sniffled a bit and pushed the tears back down. 

“I’ll be back inside in a minute.” He looked at you unable to hide the concern on his face. 

“Promise.” You said. He accepted that and headed back inside. You got yourself together outside and made your way back into the club a few minutes after Minho. You walked up to the bar, you promised Minho you’d come back inside, you didn’t say you wouldn’t drink. You were done dancing for the night you were ready to drink and forget. Forget the image of Chan and some gorgeous girl dry humping on the dance floor that was burned into your mind. You got your drink, several in fact, and made your way to your table again. Your drink of choice? Instant amnesia, tequila shots. Shortly after shot number six? Seven? Who cared. Shortly after you knocked back yet another shot Minho, Jisung, and Chan all crowded the table, the beautiful girl in the silver dress glued to Chan’s side. Minho snatched the empty shot glass out of your hand frustrated. 

“Did you drink all these?” He motioned at the slew of empty shot glasses in front of you. You just nodded and Minho sighed and looked over at Jisung who looked concerned but unsure how to help. The girl whispered something in Chan’s ear and he nodded laughing making Minho look over at him. Chan raised his eyebrows. 

“What?” Minho shook his head and motioned towards you. 

“Do you maybe wanna try and help me here?” Chan held up one finger to the girl. He slid into the booth seat next to you and she sat on the edge right by him. 

“What’s up?” He nudged you and you shook your head. 

“Why is everyone acting like this isn’t what we do every time we’re at the club? I drink and you guys...” You lifted your head enough to look over at the girl next to Chan. 

“do you. Just leave me alone.” Chan didn’t get why you were acting like this. So you had a bad week at work, you didn’t usually take that out on them and you definitely were never so short with them. 

“What’s your problem tonight?” You narrowed your eyes at him and then dropped your head back down. 

“Just leave me alone, I’m always alone anyway just...” Chan got a look on his face like the lightbulb just went off. So that was it you were upset no guys were approaching you. When Minho saw that look on Chan’s face he was almost certain it was the wrong lightbulb going off and braced for grade A Chan foot in mouth material.  

“Well of course, you’re dressed as frumpy as your attitude.” You looked at him with your jaw dropped as tears instantly pricked your eyes. Minho literally face palmed and even Jisung thought that was way harsh to say. Chan realized it was too far the moment it left his mouth. 

“Move and let me out.” You said quietly but sternly. The girl stood while Chan put his hands up and didn’t budge. 

“Wait...” You looked him right in the endless pools of brown you usually adored as your tears threatened to fall. It wasn’t even just that he’d said it but to say it in front of that beautiful girl, it tore your guts out. 

“Bang Christopher Chan move, or I will scream.” You took a deep breath preparing to scream as loud as you could, a tear slipping down your cheek and he quickly got up. You pulled yourself out of the booth and walked away without a word as they all watched. 

“Wow Chan of all the bone head things to say... I didn’t think you could say something so heartless, especially to y/n.” Before Chan could say anything Minho took off after you. You were drunk and crying against a brick wall when he found you. He promised not to ask or say anything, he just wanted to make sure you got home safe. He put his arm around you and walked you back to your apartment. Back in the club Jisung and Chan stood there in shock for a second. Neither of them had ever seen you like that before, then Jisung turned to Chan and gave him an angry look. 

“I know I know I feel like shit I’ll go apologize to her.” Chan turned to the girl that had been his dance partner and then some for the night. 

“Uhh sorry I’ve... I’ve gotta fix this, she’s my best friend.” She looked irritated but nodded and left for the dance floor again. Jisung suggested taking the long way back to your place to give you a little time to cool down and Chan decided that was probably a good idea. By the time you and Minho got to your place you had stopped crying. He led you to your room where he helped you take off your shoes and get into bed, you threw the cover back and peeled off your jeans leaving you in your panties before laying back. Minho’s face turned a little red and he looked away until you were covered again. He grabbed you a bottle of water and dragged your trash can by your bed in case you had to vomit. He went to leave your room and let you get some sleep but your voice came out tiny and shaky and it stopped him. 

“He doesn’t love me.” Minho turned. 

“Who?” He asked although he knew. 

“Chan.” It was the first time you’d ever admitted out loud to him that you were in love with Chan. Minho knew Chan was oblivious to it and he knew Chan loved you; they all did, but he really didn’t know if Chan was in love with you. 

“I don’t know, try not to think about it right now, okay? Get some rest.” You curled up and turned towards Minho. 

“Min?” He hummed smiling softly at you, he hated seeing that spark in your eye smothered by your tears. 

“Nothing.” He nodded. 

“Good night y/n. Sleep well.” He pulled your bedroom door closed and locked up on his way out. On Minho’s way home he ran into Jisung and Chan who had taken the long way so were walking from the opposite direction. Chan jogged up to him quickly. 

“Did you find her? Is she okay?” Minho nodded. 

“Yea I found her. She’s home, she’s in bed now.” Chan sighed in relief.  

“Thanks Min. I’ll make it right.” Minho nodded 

“I sure hope so.” Then Minho and Jisung headed towards their own apartment. When Chan got home he made sure to quietly unlock the front door. When he turned to go down the hall towards your rooms there you were in your tshirt and panties braced against the wall trying to get to the bathroom to brush the taste of tequila out of your mouth. If you weren’t still drunk you would have been mortified to be standing in front of Chan in your panties. 

“Oh hey, Minho said you were asleep already.” You shrugged. 

“Sorry to disappoint you but I’ll be sure to put earbuds in so you and your slumber party pal can be as loud as you want.” Chan’s brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Slumber party pal?” You pushed your fingers into your eyes and fought the migraine that was starting to form. You tried to walk into the bathroom and he stopped you. 

“Wait. What are you talking about? Do you mean the girl from the club?” What did that have to do with it. Chan was confused. 

“Yes the girl who’s attitude and certainly her dress were far from frumpy.” You could feel tears starting to form in your eyes again. You’d hoped you’d cried all you had in you. Chan felt the slap to the face your words were meant to carry. 

“y/n I shouldn’t have...” You cut him off angry. 

“You think I don’t know what you mean when you say that?!” Chan shook his head he didn’t understand, what he meant? 

“That I’m fat! I’m fat and not pretty! I’m fat and why would anyone approach someone like me! That I wasn’t her! You don’t think I know it already?! I see the way you look at her and I see the way you look at me and I know!” You looked down crying and realized you were standing there like a fool with no pants on. You ran to your room and slammed the door grabbing sweats and pulling them on before crawling into your bed hopeful that it would swallow you and take you away. Your head was pounding and you felt like you wanted to throw up, you just wanted to disappear.  

Chan stood there absolutely stunned. Why did you feel like you needed to compare yourself to that other girl? The alcohol was skewing your perspective, it had to be. You didn’t really think he meant that did you? You didn’t really think that about yourself, right? Sure the girl he was dancing with was beautiful but he thought you were beautiful too, you knew that, you knew he thought you were pretty. He thought it all the time when he watched you cooking dinner in the kitchen or when you both were curled up watching a documentary on sea cucumbers, he thought you were the prettiest when you laughed, which you did often... usually, not so much lately. You had to know because he thought it all the time... he thought.  

Thinking and saying are two totally different things. He tried to remember a time he’d told you that you looked pretty or that he thought you were beautiful and he couldn’t think of one, he couldn’t think of not one time he’d actually said out loud that he thought you were pretty. Underneath he knew a lot of other feelings came up with that statement, feelings he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with, feelings that may scare you, feelings that might make you uncomfortable. You lived together, things could get messy saying things like that, so he’d thought it all the time but looking back he’d never really said it. Then he said that. God he was an idiot.  

He walked up to your door and could hear you sniffling on the other side. He knocked and then walked in like he always did. When he did you turned your back to him. Your voice was small again, choked. 

“Go away.” Chan shook his head and took another step in. 

“No. I need to say something.” You buried your head deeper into your pillow. 

“Go awa-” 

“I think you’re beautiful.” You closed your eyes tightly, tears soaking your pillow. 

“Stop...” 

“I think you’re so beautiful and your body is...” You sat up and faced him. He had to stop. 

“Shut up! Chan just shut. Up!” 

“And your body is perf-” You got up and stormed towards him. You started beating on his chest with your fists and he held your arms stopping you, your eyes closed tight crying even harder, screaming at him. 

“Shut up! Shut up! Don’t lie to me! Don’t you ever fucking lie to me! I hate you! I hate you for doing this to me! I hate you for making me love you!” You collapsed to the floor in front of him, curled up sobbing and whimpering at his feet.  

“Liar... I hate you...” You choked out quietly and Chan stood there frozen by your confession. He looked down and saw you, then laid down on the floor beside you. He didn’t try to make you talk or hold you, he just curled up and laid there with you so you weren’t alone. He’d never leave you alone, you were his best friend and so much more. It wasn’t long before all the night’s events caught up and you both fell asleep next to each other on the floor.  

The next morning you woke up stiff and sore, your head was pounding not only from the alcohol but also the endless crying you’d done the night before. You winced as you opened your eyes and then realized the warmth behind you and an arm draped over you. You turned your head a little to look and saw Chan laying by you on the floor, his arm around you. You quickly scrambled away, waking him up in the process. You sat on the floor by your bed your knees pulled up to your chest. Your chest that felt so heavy, heavy filled with the memories and the pain from last night. Chan sat up and tried to see you through his sleep swollen eyes. 

“Uh hey... um, good morning...” He said in his deep groggy voice. You bowed your head. 

“Morning.” You replied quietly. Chan sat there and stared at you for a second until you started to squirm. He wasn’t sure what all you remembered from the night before. He finally snapped out of it and struggled standing up, stiff from sleeping on the hard floor. 

“I uh... will let you wash up then.” You nodded and he turned and left your room. You grabbed a fresh tshirt and pair of sweats and hurried to the bathroom. You took the longest shower of your life, brushed your teeth and felt a little better. Not great but you could open your eyes all the way at least. As you were coming out of the bathroom Chan was walking into the hall from the living room and you almost bumped into each other. 

“Oh, sorry.” He said as his hands gently held your arms to stop you from stumbling. You quickly pulled away. 

“It’s fine.” You practically ran for your room and shut the door. Chan knew for sure that you remembered at least part of the night before. He ran his fingers through his messy curls frustrated with himself and went into the bathroom to shower as well. When he was done he threw on some shorts and as he pulled his tshirt over his head you tapped at his door. 

“Yea?” You cracked it just a little and kept your eyes glued to the floor. 

“Um, I... can I talk to you?” Chan nodded. 

“Yea of course come-” 

“In the living room whenever you're done.” You quickly added. He frowned a little but shook his head. 

“Yea I’ll be right out.” You gave him a single nod and closed the door. It wasn’t long before Chan walked out into the living room. You were sitting on one end of the couch just kind of zoned out until he walked in. He walked over and sat on the other end of the couch turned towards you. When you finally willed yourself to look at him you couldn’t help the small frown that shifted onto your face when you saw him sitting there with his wet curls and hopeful eyes. Chan’s heart squeezed in his chest seeing your frown. 

“I think I should move out.” Like a bucket of ice water was thrown on Chan, that was his expression. 

“WHAT? WHY!?” You scoffed at his reaction and his question. 

“Seriously Chan? You know why. I was drunk but I remember everything. I just... need some... space, some time away...” You watched your hands as you picked at your cuticles. 

“From me?” Chan said pained. You looked up at him with tears rimming your eyes and nodded. It was like the wind had been knocked out of him and he was hit with a realization that he’d taken so much for granted, a realization that he was losing you. You stood up to head back to your room and Chan gently grabbed your wrist stopping you. 

“Last night, when I told you you’r-” You shook your head. 

“No, stop. I’m going to pack a bag and stay with Minho and Jisung for now. As soon as I have arrangements made I’ll let you know and be back for my things, I’ll try to be quick.” Tears were streaking Chan’s face now as well as your own. You pulled your wrist free and did just as you said you were, you went to your room and packed clothes and toiletries to take with you to Minho and Jisung’s. On your way out you crossed through the living room and Chan was sitting in the same spot, still with tears running down his cheeks. You walked over and when you knelt in front of him he looked over at you, his eyes glassy with tears. You pushed his damp curls back, and he sniffled, you softly kissed his cheek and then stood and left. Chan broke down crying when he heard the door click closed behind you. 

When you got to Jisung and Minho’s place the first thing you did was fall into Jisung’s embrace and cry uncontrollably. You had been strong through the whole thing and now you didn’t have to be so you cried. Jisung sat on the couch with you and let you while Minho made some tea for you all. After a good cry and some tea you got unpacked in the guest room. You all were settled in the living room watching tv after dinner when there was a knock at the door. Minho and Jisung, one on each side of you, looked at each other. Neither were expecting anyone but both knew exactly who it was, you did too. Minho got up to answer the door. 

“Min...” You called him. He turned and saw your eyes, big and worried. He held up a finger nodding and turned to go answer the door. When he opened it unsurprisingly Chan was standing there. 

“I need to talk to y/n.” Chan tried to walk in and Minho blocked him. 

“You need to give it some time Chan there’s more to this for her than you realize.” Chan pressed his lips together tightly; he knew what was at stake and he wasn’t going to lose you without a fight.  

“Minho, I need to talk to her let me through.” Minho shook his head. 

“Chan-” 

“She needs to come home!” Chan said loudly. 

“y/n please come home!” He shouted into the apartment 

“Please! Just stay with me!” Minho pushed Chan out of the doorway and walked into the hall with him pulling the door closed behind him. 

“What the hell are you doing man? Are you hearing me? There’s more to this than you think!” Chan pushed back against Minho. 

“I’m in love with her! She needs to come home, she needs to be home with me! So I can apologize, so I can cook her favorite dinner and grab that lemon lime sorbet that she loves at the corner store, so I can hold her and kiss her and tell her everything I should have long before now.” Chan shouted, huge tears in his eyes. Minho was stunned. Once he had his wits about him again he shook his head. 

“All that aside Chan. It’s not the time for this. Just... give her some time.” He spoke softly, Minho didn’t want to have to hurt his friend and turn him away but he couldn’t hurt you either. Chan nodded, turned, and left without another word, he understood. When Minho walked back into the apartment you were standing at the opening of the foyer wide eyes filled with tears. 

“Mi-Minho... did... Chan... did he just...”  

“Say that he loved you?” You nodded and a tear fell. 

“Yea, he did.” You took a deep shuddering breath and braced yourself against the wall. 

“He looked awful. It’s only been part of a day but he looked like absolute hell not having you home.” You nodded, staring off as your thoughts spun a million miles an hour in your head. Chan loved you? Like you loved him? It was impossible. You didn’t know what to do. You were so confused. You had so many questions. You finally looked up at Minho. 

“Wha- should I go home? What do I do?” Minho shrugged. 

“Do you love him still?”  

“I’ll always love him.” Minho raised his brow at you knowingly. It was late but you didn’t care. You ran to the guest room, threw on some jeans and your tennis shoes and started towards you and Chan’s apartment. When you got there you unlocked the door quietly and tip-toed in so you didn’t make any noise in case Chan was already asleep. You walked into the living room and Chan was on the couch. His head was tilted back resting on the back of the couch and his arm was thrown over his eyes. You weren’t sure if he was sleeping or not. You made your way over and stood in front of him. When Chan felt someone standing near him he jumped before he realized it was you. He relaxed and sat there looking up at you with big brown glassy eyes. 

“y/n?” You nodded trying to fight back your own tears already. He didn’t say anything he just sat up and wrapped his arms around your midsection and hugged you, his head resting on your soft tummy. You hugged him, your fingers resting in his curls. He leaned back and looked up at you and you pushed his curls back away from his face. 

“I’m so sorry y/n, I should’ve never said that to you it wasn’t right and I...” You shook your head. 

“We have a lot to talk about and we will, I just have one question right now.” Chan nodded, his eyes piercing into yours. 

“Are you in love with me?” Chan shook his head up and down without a second of hesitation. He did, he knew. 

“Say it.” He sat up straight and looked at you, into you. 

“I’m in love with you y/n. I love you. I love you so m-” You leaned down and kissed him softly. He cupped your face and tilted his head, deepening the kiss. You broke away to take a breath and Chan pressed his forehead against yours, his hands resting on your wide hips, guiding you to kneel and rest on his lap, a thick thigh resting on either side of Chan’s strong legs. His hands slid down your thighs and squeezed even through the material it sent a shiver up your spine. You steadied yourself by holding on to Chan’s broad shoulders. Those same strong hands squeezing your thighs came up and held your face so softly, his thumb grazing the apple of your cheek. Tears started to well up in your eyes, Chan gently shook his head and pulled you in to kiss you again, pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth softly. You opened your mouth allowing him to slide his tongue inside. Chan wrapped his arms around you and pulled you all the way down onto his lap and you could feel him pressing into you making you throb with want as he devoured your lips. His hands ghosted down your back and rested on your hips urging you to move against him and you moaned into the kiss. 

“Sound... so pretty... baby girl.” He mumbled as he kissed down your neck. You could feel yourself getting wetter hearing the sweet pet name. You tilted your head giving him better access to his target. 

“Ch-Chan... wha-what are we... doing?” You panted as your hips ground together, as his hands gripped, and his lips explored. He pulled away when you asked, he was a little red and breathless chewing at his bottom lip. 

“Uh wha... what do you want?” You looked at him and pushed his curls back away from his beautiful face again. 

“You.” He smiled and touched your face. 

“Then... I’m yours.” You kissed him hard then scrambled to get up and get your jeans and panties off. As soon as Chan realized what you were doing he lifted his hips and pulled his shorts and briefs down to his ankles. You quickly climbed back onto his lap, there was no time to be shy or bashful as Chan lined up his cock with your wet hole and eased you down on to him. You both moaned and you gasped when you were fully seated in Chan’s lap again, only this time with his dick buried deep inside you. 

“Oh god!” Chan held onto your hips, his lip between his teeth, eyes closed tightly as he felt you squeeze his length with your warm soft walls. When he finally opened his eyes he saw you looking down at him, your eyes sparkling. You pulled at the hem of his shirt and took it off over his head running your hands up and down his firm torso over his chest and abs and back up again. Chan sat up his cock moving inside you deliciously making you squirm as his hands traveled up your plush body lifting your shirt up and over your head, your full breasts lined up with his face, he sucked on one and then the other, squeezing and pushing them together then raking his teeth across your hard nipples. 

“Ch-Chan... please...” He let go of your breasts and his hands slid down your curvy frame and rested on your ass. He leaned back on the couch then squeezed and pulled your hips forward and then pushed them back as he rolled his hips up into you. 

“Like that baby girl... ride it just like that.” You planted your hands low on his abs and pushed your hips forward and then back again on your own. You moved again and again and set a rhythm. Chan’s head rolled back and his eyes closed. 

“Does it feel good?” You needed to know you he was enjoying it, you wanted to make him feel good. Chan looked at you blushing and smiling as you rode his cock. 

“Mhmm yes, you feel so good baby, don’t stop.” He squeezed your thick ass and urged you to move faster. Your breaths shortened as your hips moved quicker. 

“G-gonna cum... Ch-Chan go-gonna cu-” Your eyes rolled back into your head as you wrapped your arms around Chan’s head hugging him tight, his face buried in your big tits again. Chan could feel you dripping down his cock as you came on top of him, your hips stuttering and Chan helped you ride it out as he rolled his hips up into you harder. When you finally let go of him Chan slumped back on the couch again, held up your hips forcing you forward making you brace onto the back of the couch and with his strong hands holding you up he started pounding into you from underneath not only chasing his own high but sending you nosediving into another orgasm. More of your arousal dripped down his cock and there was a lewd smacking sound every time Chan hammered his dick into your wet cunt. He put you down and sat back up pulling you close as your cunt took his whole cock. It was messy grinding and rubbing and wet and as you shook and trembled through your third orgasm. Chan pulled you closer still, he held you tight and came deep inside you as he cupped your face and sweetly kissed your lips. You sat there sweaty and out of breath on Chan’s lap your head resting on one of his shoulders, his arms wrapped around you as his cock softened inside you. When you caught your breath and the adrenalin wore down the gravity of what just happened hit you like a train and you started to cry. Chan pulled you up and held your face worried. 

“Hey hey, what’s wrong huh? Baby don’t cry.” Hearing him call you by the sweet pet name only made you cry harder. He hugged you close again and grabbed the throw blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around you. He rubbed your back and held you until you were calm again. 

“Sorry it was just a lot of big feelings all at once and I got a little overwhelmed.” Chan shook his head as he continued tracing shapes on your back to soothe you. 

“Don’t be sorry I understand. Are you okay now?” You nodded and sat up and Chan smiled at you his dimples popping up. 

“Good. Why don’t we wash up and get to bed. We’ll talk about everything first thing tomorrow, including you moving out of your room. You were confused and frowned a little. 

“You... you still think I should?” Chan nodded. 

“Absolutlely. My room is bigger so it just makes sense for you to move into mine over me moving into yours.” You let out a huge sigh of relief and shoved him a little. He hugged you close and kissed your neck. 

“I love you baby girl.” You melted into his hug. 

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @life-is-glorious @minnysproutgriffinteddy

“I love you too Chan.” 

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

[daysonend]

little blurb for ya’ll

warnings: swearing, tough family life, bad writing, idk what else

this is my first time writing so don’t be too harsh

i had this idea while back and if this is a good blurb i might write it into a fic

i was sitting on the countertop watching matt prepare some things for the first wednesday video they had filmed in a while, it would be a video where they had to guess what drink they were consuming. i wanted to be behind the scenes but not in the actual video since none of the fans knew that matt and i were dating, only close friends and family members knew but the fans weren’t oblivious they could sense tension between us.

“doll? do you mind helping me put out the glasses?” matt asked me in a soft tone.

“yeah, for sure.” i say before hopping down from the countertop and walking over to the cabinet with glasses, cups, and mugs, i carefully took out two glasses and placed them in front of the other ones that were on the counter. “thanks bunny, can i ask you another favour?” matt asked, “sure, what do you need?” i asked as i tilted my head a habit i seemed to pick up the more i was around matt, “can you pleaseee make sure that our camera is charged?” matt begged, “yeah, just give me a sec.” i say before turning around and accidentally knocking over a glass, as the glass falls to the ground my face contorts into a terrified look as the i watch the glass hit the floor and shatter, while matt stumbles backwards i stay put and watch the scene unfold before beginning to profusely apologise, “SHIT! MATT IM SO SORRY, I DIDNT MEAN TO, FUCK, IM SUCH A FUCKING CLUTZ, IM SO FUCKING SORRY! WHERES YOUR GUYS BROOM?!” i asked in a panicked state holding back tears, the sound of the glass breaking was loud enough to bring nick and chris’ awareness from the fortnite game to the commotion happening downstairs.

“doll, calm down, youre fine.” matt says trying to reassure me. “NO, SHIT, ITS NOT FINE IM SORRY, I REALLY DIDN’T MEAN TO!” i say before a flood of tears comes rushing down so do the memories.

my mom, my dad and i were sitting in the dining room eating dinner like usual, my father was on his second bottle of beer and my mom was trying to ignore that he was on his second bottle, everything was mediocre going okay but then i accidentally knocked his bottle of beer, his fucking “precious” bottle of beer and that when all shit broke lose.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N HOW FUCKING DARE YOU BREAK THIS BOTTLE, ARE YOU MOTHERFUCKING STUPID, AND HOW STUPID DO YOU HAVE TO BE TO KNOCK SOMETHING SO FAR OUT OF REACH AND BREAK IT, YOU KNOW HOW DID ME AND YOUR MOM RAISE SUCH A STUPID, FAT LITTLE UNGRATEFUL BRAT, CLEAN THIS UP OR I SWEAR I WILL DISOWN YOU!” he barked like a dog, except i knew that the bitte matched the bark, i just wish i didn’t.

i was 12. i didn’t mean to. matt kind of knew, but he never knew how bad my dad got sometime. but it didn’t matter because now im the in the same exact position, 12 year old me, cowering under my dads harsh voice except im 20, and no ones yelling, but i feel like someone should.

tag list (idk js people that inspire me) ilyy 💋💋

@flouvela @mattscoquette @bendmyuterinelingingmattpls @bernardsbendystraws @mattsfavbitchhh @nickssidewitch @vanteguccir

[bimobuddy]

Pay Attention

SFW Hazbin tickle fic

ficlet? Is that the term used when it's shorter than normal?

Mostly Ler!Val, Mostly Lee!Vox

Soft!Valentino

Swearing

Edit: This one isnt as good, sorry guys lol, I wrote this purely as an excuse to include the Moth x Bright Light trope because I thought it was goofy

Summary: Vox is ranting and Val just isn't paying attention to him. After a few attempts to talk to him, Val complies and gives him his full, undivided attention.

"- And then Alastor called me a 'Clout-chasing mediocre video podcast,' can you fucking believe-... Val!" Vox had been trying to talk to his partner for about half an hour now, but unfortunately, said partner had the attention span of a three year old.

Still not getting his attention, Vox stood in front of Val and flashed his screen a bit brighter, which seemed to pull him from his phone. Classic moth brain attracted to bright lights. Vox usually found it hilarious to use this against him. Val did not.

"Oh fuck off, I heard you." He said dismissively. The host crossed his arms. "Did you? Then what did I say?" Valentino hesitated. "Something about Alastor, probably." "You weren't fucking listening." Val groaned, "Fine, continue, continue, I'm listening."

Vox gave him a suspicious look, then continued. "The nerve of HIM to call ME mediocre!? I keep up with the latest trends, I know what the people like, HE'S been doing the same old radio bullshit for years! He's-" He looked over at Val, who was back on his phone. He growled and pushed his phone out of his hand, then promptly sat in his lap, brightening his screen again.

Val huffed, unable to tear his eyes from the light. "Fuck you, you know I hate it when you use this against me.." "You weren't listening to me." He dimmed his screen, showing the irritation on his face. The moth did feel slightly bad. It's not like he meant to ignore him, he just had a short attention span.

He opened his mouth to apologize or sweet talk him, but he felt Vox gently take ahold of his fluffy antennae and just drag it through his fingers as if feeling the plumage. Fuck. He clamped his jaw shut, his face going warm as it tickled. It was the equivalent of brushing your fingers behind someone's ear.

"You weren't willingly paying attention to me, so now I guess I'll have to make you." Vox smirked, clearly a little less irritated than before. He started to skitter along Val's ribs, but he had clearly forgotten a couple things. Val had four arms, and he was twice his size.

His second pair of hands got Vox from behind, spidering around his shoulder blades, causing the poor show host to arch his back and stop what he was doing. Val was quick to pick up his smaller partner, turn him around, and sit him on his lap while two hands squeezed at his thighs and knees, while two scritched at his sides.

The reaction was immediate. "FUHUCK NOHO, VAHAHAL-" "You said you wanted my undivided attention, and now you have it." "THIHIS ISNT WHAHAT I MEHEANT, FUHUCKER!" "Well now you're just being rude about it." Val slipped his hands under Vox's shirt and rapidly pinched at his lower sides.

Vox tried to bat his hands away in a giggly fight-or-flight mode, until he felt rapid little kisses being peppered along the back of his neck. His giggles softened to something sweeter as he scrunched his shoulders up and stopped fighting him off so much. Fucking Val, he knew he liked this. "B-Bihihitch.." He giggled out. Val chuckled into his neck, tickling it even more.

"Keep talking, Voxy, you have my full attention now."

[threepandas]

Bird4Bird Part 4: Yandere Hawks

The part of his mind that was his PR mask wanted to whine. Boooooring~! Blah, blah, blah. Do THIS Hawks, you did THAT wrong Hawks, we're never HAPPY Hawks! Whine, whine, bitching and moaning and whine! Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir. I'll do better, Sir.

Handlers.

Handlers were the WORST.

They nitpick. Micromanage like it gets them off. And worst of all? Are perpetually BITTER they couldn't make it as Heros themselves. Always thought that THEY could have done better. They couldn't. They're WEAK.

Self serving, corrupt, hateful. He has yet to meet a single one that actually would survive a week as even a mediocre hero. Yet here they are. Controlling them. Pulling the strings. Handlers are a disease. At least his managers back at the office could DO THEIR JOBS.

How long has he been forced to stand here? An hour? Two?

Lives he could have been saving. Crimes he could have been stopping. Work that could have been done. All wasted on an idiot's power trip. He wonders... how's he gonna get rid of this one? Crossfire of a villian attack? Car accident? Mugging gone wrong? Can't reuse any of the previous methods...

Ah. Done whining? Great! Same time next week then? Bye~☆

He leaves before the asshole can respond. Not bothering to get out of the way, as he walks dead center down the hall. Let other's move. He's had an entire childhood of being expected to accommodate in this place. Being FORCED to accommodate. He's more then a little sick of it.

You move.

And really, he was having SUCH a nice day, too! He got to see his lil predator~♡. All sweaty and straining in gym clothes! Muscles on display like a glorious Amazonian statue come to life. Those thigh could crush skulls! Those arms could probably flip cars! Granted, she'd need leverage, but STILL~♡

He let's his pleasant fantasies calm him down a bit. His Grumpy Lil Harpy a highlight to look forward too. He has them from time to time. Little fixations. He wonders how long this one will last? Hopefully a while. She's so CUTE~! Growly and vaguely murderous. Yet soft and kind too. ALL sorts of different sides to explore!

He stops, disrupting foot traffic.

The HPSC has a records office... and he DEFINITELY has access to it. He knows EXACTLY where it is. He glances as the hallway to his left. Towards the sweet freedom of Not Here and Fuck These Guys. Then back towards the right. Towards the RECORDS.

Is it even a question?

They obviously try to STOP him, of course. Personal records are SUPPOSED to be confidential. Legally they HAVE to be kept sealed unless ordered open by a judge for a SPECIFIC investigation. And can only be used FOR that investigation. Doesn't stop the upper ranks, obviously, but he? Is being WAY too out in the open about it.

Sucks for them.

Maybe this'll force them to make it harder to access records they shouldn't be accessing.

Oooooooh~ NAUGHTY Girl! Assault charges! Kidnapping? Ah, refused to give an abused child back to their abuser. Gave them to their father instead. Look at these, Look At THESE~♡! Borderline vigilante charges across the BOARD! It's a miracle his lil predator's temper hasn't gotten them into trouble they couldn't talk their way out of yet~

He steals a full copy of her files. He WANTS it. The picture they have though... it's awful. He could get a better one. He should. He knows a lot of photographers. Bet he could get her into something FLATTERING for once. Pretty, pretty, lil monster~♡ So much DAMAGE! And the medical records?

It sends a bloom of something unblinking and breathless through his brain. Warm and INTERESTED through his blood. Such sharp, SHARP talons she could have, when she doesn't file them down. Estimated maximum carry weight is WHAT? And ooooh~ the BITE strength! A picture of those pretty little FANGS~!!!

He manages... barely... to pull himself together. Has to readjust himself in his pants. Calm down. Calm. Down. Breathe through it. He shudders, mind desperate to drift back to the file in his hands. But he's very, VERY good at compartmentalizing. It can WAIT.

Wait until he's back in his apartment. When he's ALONE. THEN he can enjoy it. Self control, Hawks. They'll take it away from you. Remember your shrine. Calm. He has to be calm.

He tucks the file away. Slaps a PR mask on his face. And leaves the Records. Deletes the recordings of him ever being in there, as he passes the desk. No one thinks to stop him. Why would they? He's their caged bird. Their loyal pet. He would NEVER steal from THEM. They are the ones who take.

But now he has her file. A partial, Goverment, history. He could probably get the rest. He knows EXACTLY what buildings they're stored in. He's even allowed in them, TRUSTED in them. No one would blink twice. He should. Can they really be trusted? With such lax security? Such corruption? He'd basically be protecting them. Keeping them out of villian hands. It's basicly his DUTY isn't it? As a hero?

Yeah. He should go get them... AFTER he's done reading these ones. Landing on his balcony, shucking his uniform haphazardly, he let the file drop and spill gloriously across the floor before him. Let his eyes dart from word to picture to graph. Not even bothering to close the sliding door behind him, fumbling with his pants, the second he has access, his hands desperately slide down to pleasure himself.

His legs fold. He doesn't bother to brace against it. Let's gravity bring him closer to the coldly clinical records of his current obsession. Strong. So STRONG. Deadly, beautiful, things. Fangs and talons and pictures of eyes that stare right through him. His hands almost HURT, as he desperately strokes. Rubs and teases.

Need it, need it, NEED IT-!

Feels little like dying. Like he was tazed. Everything locking up and jerking, helplessly. So good it's awful, destroying him in how bad he needs it. He wants to cuddle. Wants to pin. Wants to see his pretty little harpy bird all tied up and helpless, so he can flop down on top of her and croon~♡

She'd be so CUTE. He muses, boneless, face pressed to the floor. Sprawled out surround by pictures and pages of HER. So, SO Cute. He's staring at the picture of her hand.. her talons. He'll have to plan around those. But in the mean time? He lets himself drift. Fantasize. A predators smile stretches across his face.

He hopes she stays interesting.

He wants to keep hunting her for a long, long time.

[brucebocchi]

Winter 2024 anime, Pt. 2: Mixed reactions, the bench, and the gems

hey y'all, this is also up on my ko-fi! it's free to read both here and there, but i'm struggling financially rn so i could appreciate if you'd throw a few bucks my way if you liked it! part 1 can be found here.

And we're back for part 2! Here's all the new stuff I finished this season, and one more I'll get back to later. As with before, these are sorted alphabetically within each category and are not ranked as of yet.

Also as before, the OP for each series is linked in the title. Check them all out if the header images aren't giving you the right feel for each show, but also check them out because most of them were actually pretty damn good this season.

[Solo Leveling OP voice] LET'S GET IT!

Mixed Bags:

Hokkaido Gals Are Super Adorable!

Your standard, quasi-harem “easily flustered Regular Guy wins over hot girls just by being really nice” shonen romcom. I really don’t have much to say about this one other than if you’ve seen My Dress-Up Darling, you’ve basically seen this already. The only thing that really sets it apart is the setting.

Tsubasa (voiced by Nobunaga Shimazaki, in a FAR cry from his turn as Mahito in Jujutsu Kaisen) is a straight-laced Tokyoite whose family situation lands him in a small city in the frozen boonies of Hokkaido. While looking for the bus to his new house, he runs into a gyaru in the snowy wild, the underdressed, hilariously-proportioned Minami, and they hit it off. It turns out they go to the same school, there are other cute girls there who take a shine to him as well, it’s nothing new.

I ultimately don’t have much to say about Hokkaido Gals, but I do have a soft spot for series like this, and after reading ahead in the manga I felt obligated to see it through. This is all junk food, but it’s all stuff you’ve seen done better in other series. I also have a soft spot for gyaru in anime and manga, and while I do like Minami just fine, she isn’t Marin Kitagawa or Rumiko Manbagi. I don’t really have it in me to recommend this show to many, though, at least not until another season rolls around, if that ever happens. The manga genuinely does get a lot better as it goes on, but the really worthwhile stuff may not happen until a third season, and I just don’t see that happening. 

The manga has issues that the anime isn’t willing or able to solve, chief of which being the visuals. The art style of the manga is wildly inconsistent, and getting a mediocre animation team on this didn’t help matters at all. While the colors often pop nicely against the pretty, snowy backdrops, nobody looks all that great overall. The characters are recognizable, but they just plain don’t look great a lot of the time, nor do they look consistent from one cut to the next; I said that Minami’s proportions are hilarious, but just as hilarious is how wildly they vacillate from one scene to the next for the sake of trying to titillate the viewer.

My biggest takeaway from both the manga and anime was everything I learned about Hokkaido in the process, and if the series is taking subsidies from the island’s tourism bureau, then it’s a job well done. I want some goddamn jingisukan now. The OP is a great time, though. I’m shocked it took over a decade for us to get a proper “Uptown Funk” knockoff in an anime.

Metallic Rouge

I’ll be upfront in saying that this was my biggest disappointment of the season by far. This show had so much going for it, and what we got was… ugh.

There was an unbelievable amount of promise from the outset: This was Studio Bones’ commemorative 25th anniversary production, and coming from the studio that gave us all-timer adaptations like Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood and Mob Psycho 100, not to mention later works from Cowboy Bebop creator Shinichiro Watanabe (including the Cowboy Bebop movie), you can’t fault anyone for having high expectations. It looked to be a fitting production as well: Watanabe’s influence shines through immediately in the gorgeous, lived-in cyberpunk off-world locales and racially diverse cast. Action takes the form of dope robo-tokusatsu transformation fisticuffs, and it’s entirely in 2D animation to boot. The first couple of episodes were killer, too; everything looked and sounded amazing, and there were just enough plot threads teased out that I just had to see how they’d unravel.

It brings me no joy, then, to say that Metallic Rouge collapses into a jumbled mess. I don’t even want to bother talking about what happens in the show because I don’t fucking care anymore. There are few media experiences more sobering than to have it dawn on you over a span of several weeks that “oh… this isn’t actually all that good, is it?” Episode after episode piles on with sloppy lore, weak worldbuilding, warring factions whose names you immediately forget, pointless double-crosses, and the most predictable twist you’ve ever seen. For a while I was willing to accept the fact that I didn’t know what was going on half the time and expected things to become clearer, but now I’m not entirely sure the writers knew either. The stakes apparently kept rising and everything just kept getting more claustrophobic. I’m glad it’s over, if only because if I had to hear “Clair de Lune” one more fucking time, I was going to go ballistic. 

There are several attempts at emotional beats, as the story is rife with tragedy and sacrifice, and every single one lands with a wet thud. Nobody gets enough time, motivation, or characterization for any of these things to feel like they actually matter, and that’s especially a shame because the finale might have been able to stick the landing if the previous episodes were less dense and better paced. Emphasis on “almost,” though, because just before the season ends, we get the absolute most pointless fakeout I’ve seen since The Rise of Skywalker, which is the lowest point of comparison you can make for any work of sci-fi.

This is especially frustrating because on paper, there is so much to like here. Rouge and Naomi are likable-enough deuteragonists with a fun dynamic, and they’d make easy yuri bait in a better show. The characters are all pretty and uniquely designed across the board, and the overall aesthetic, almost a pastiche of late-90’s anime futurism, is undeniable. The toku suit designs are neat and several of the action scenes are gorgeous. The score and soundtrack are outstanding (except for the aforementioned Debussy indulgence). I have few complaints about how the show looks and sounds; the style is great! All of my issues lie with the substance.

Metallic Rouge may have had all the ingredients, but it just needed more time to cook; whether that would have been by doubling the episode count or by more carefully planning the pacing and trimming some of the fat from the lore, I’m still not sure. Probably both. It probably needed better writers, too. Maybe it just isn’t as smart as it acts and there was no way to satisfyingly resolve the clumsy civil rights allegories that bring it uncomfortably close to the likes of Detroit: Become Human. So all of the above, I guess. I tend to adore stories that involve artificially-intelligent beings developing their own wills and emotions and learning to cut their own strings (the likes of Blade Runner, Nier Automata, even a couple of character arcs in the Persona series), but this ain’t it. I’m not even mad anymore. I’m just disappointed.

If there are two positives that will stick with me, though, they would be the absolute banger of an OP and, of course, Naomi Orthmann herself (pictured above, left). Outstanding character design. I’m mildly obsessed. She deserved a better show.

The Unwanted Undead Adventurer

This one isn’t even worth talking about, so here’s a brief synopsis, then I’ll add some commentary, and then we’ll all move on with our lives. 

Rentt, a beloved but mediocre adventurer in a fantasy town, gets lost in the mysterious labyrinth that all adventurers explore for personal gain, gets waxed by a dragon, and awakens as a shitty-looking CGI skeleton. He notices, though, that he’s able to level up better as a skeleton than he did as a human, and with the more monsters he defeats, the more he evolves into something closer to human. The rest isn’t really worth discussing.

If I’m being honest, I should’ve dropped this show much sooner. It looks kinda lousy most of the time, the plot (inasmuch as there even is one) is boring, character designs are forgettable (except for Rentt’s closest ally, Lorraine, holy hell) and it seems wholly uninterested in actually building its own setting. If it returns for a second season, I won’t be there, nor will I feel like I’m missing anything. Each episode felt like a chore to watch. I probably only saw it through because 1) I liked looking at Lorraine, I know what I’m about, and 2) I didn’t want to lump it in with the shows I did drop. The Unwanted Undead Adventurer isn’t as patently upsetting or frustrating as those three, but it just plain isn’t a very good show.

The Witch and the Beast

This show could have been so much more. I was drawn in by the gorgeous character designs and intriguing blend of Victorian gothic aesthetics and architecture with modern infrastructure, and very quickly disappointed by just about everything else. The first episode is an exceptional proof of concept, and almost everything that follows is an upsetting showcase of what could have been.

The story centers around Ashaf, a languid, chain-smoking agent of the governing church with a big-ass coffin strapped to his back, and his partner Guideau, a snarling hyena in a young woman’s body, as they investigate abuses of magic across the continent in search of nefarious witches. Guideau in particular has a bone to pick with witches, as the body they presently inhabit is the result of a witch’s curse, and they remain in furious pursuit of the one who cursed them. The curse can be temporarily undone by a kiss with a witch, allowing Guideau’s true body, a hulking brute confined to the coffin, to escape and wreak havoc. Meaning that on a few occasions we get a girl-on-girl kiss followed by a big dude wrecking shit. There’s also other investigations of serial killings, necromancy, and a cursed sword, and here’s hoping you like those, because the coffin breaks are few and far between.

This wasn’t great! By the third episode I had the sneaking suspicion that the animation talent on hand just wasn’t enough to support the aesthetic. While the character designs are exceptional, almost everyone looks awful in any shot that isn’t completely focused on them. This is especially true of Guideau, who looks so inconsistently off-model from one shot to the next that I’m still not entirely sure what they’re supposed to look like, and that’s kind of unforgivable when we’re talking about a main character. Everything looks too dim and too shiny at the same time, and action scenes look like shit more often than they look interesting. I can see so many flickers of something excellent (or at least really good-looking) in Witch and the Beast, and everything else that keeps those flickers from actually igniting makes it so much more frustrating to watch. Maybe just read the manga instead; the panels I've seen from it were uniformly gorgeous.

Actually, yeah, you should probably just read the manga, because for a season of anime, the pacing is atrocious too. It’s clearly trying to angle for a monster-of-the-week format, but each of these mini-arcs is a little too dense for a single episode, so multiple episodes are dedicated to these one-off curiosities, most of which do nothing to advance the plot or show off what the show does best. And if one of them isn’t particularly interesting, you’re saddled with it for the next two weeks like you've been stuck munching on a mealy apple. And I know you can only adapt so much in a 12-episode season, but the decision to end the season on a flashback arc and a lore dump was baffling. That’s not world-building, that’s lazy, and it made the show’s existing pacing issues feel that much more inane.

I feel like I was sold a false bill of goods. I can only imagine how the mangaka feels about this. Dull and uninspiring all around. What a waste.

The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic

Isekai, unassuming high school boy gains a unique power, impending war with the Demon Lord, yadda yadda yadda. The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic isn’t anything new or special by any means, nor is it particularly well-animated or -paced, but at its best it’s silly and charming enough that it made a nice, brainless palate cleanser on Fridays.

Usato, your standard quiet high schooler, ends up walking home on a rainy evening with the popular, attractive student council president and VP, when an isekai portal happens. It turns out that it was just the seito-kai that was invited along for the ride (and President Suzune, as it turns out, is fucking psyched to get to be in an isekai), and Usato got caught along with them. When tested for magical aptitude, Suzune and VP Kazuki hit the jackpot with electric and light affinities, respectively, but things go awry when Usato’s reading turns up with healing magic. Terror strikes the palace as the intimidating dommy-mommy Captain Rose barges in to spirit Usato away from his new friends and into her squadron of goons to train him as a combat medic.

As character comedy goes, this one is actually pretty solid at times. Shogo Sakata is plenty of fun as the put-upon, lippy Usato (a much louder role than Chainsaw Man’s Aki Hayakawa), and Atsuko Tanaka (Major Kusanagi herself!) is a blast as the terrifying Rose, an uncompromising slave driver of a drill sergeant with a secret soft side. The dynamic between them is great, too; Usato is over Rose’s shit from the beginning and isn’t afraid to talk back to her, but before you know it, this transforms into friendly banter as Rose clearly takes a shine to Usato and knows he can handle any punishment she doles out. Suzune’s also a bunch of fun now that she’s broken away from having to be the competent, popular girl at school and gets to fully lean into being a complete dork.

Wrong Way also works decently as an isekai, because it makes an effort to stay rooted in high fantasy rather than fall back on JRPG mechanics, meaning there are no stat screens! It also avoids the trappings of wish-fulfillment isekai series by having Usato start out as a regular-ass guy; he’s not a Kirito type, just someone Rose sees as a rough gem in need of cutting. There are no cheat skills or OP weapons or anything, just a kid training every day to get stronger so he can protect the people close to him, and that’s the kind of anime protagonist you should want to be.

For better and for worse, I get serious mid-00s vibes from this one; watch the OP if you don’t believe me. Some of the colors pop uncannily in that early-digipaint-era way, and the animation is pretty middling; the most fluid animation we see is whenever Suzune is acting like a creep. Much like those mid-00s anime, though, Wrong Way may have benefited from being weekly (or twice as long) rather than seasonal. There’s a ton of planting with very little payoff, and it doesn’t feel like the actual scope of the story has even been addressed yet. We don’t even learn why the series has the name it does until someone literally says it aloud in the 11th episode. I may have to reevaluate this season after a possible second, if we ever get one, because this doesn’t stand too well on its own.

Of the anime in this “mixed bags” segment, I’d say I enjoyed Wrong Way the most, but it still had enough problems for me to keep it here. It’s not a particularly bad anime, but it’s not especially good either. I guess we can slot it into what Hazel refers to as “good mid.”

On Hold: 

Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?! (three episodes watched)

Man, what a title. That was the main draw for this BL series, which on paper is basically a gay version of the Mel Gibson vehicle What Women Want. 

Adachi (a surname that will always make me laugh thanks to Persona 4), a gloomy salaryman, has hit the big 3-0 without getting any, and now he can somehow read anyone’s thoughts just by making physical contact with them. Just as he laments that this is his life now, he accidentally bumps into his handsome, popular coworker, Kurosawa, whom he learns has been harboring a massive crush on Adachi this whole time. Well dang, what now? Kurosawa’s a really nice, thoughtful dude, but Adachi’s never even thought about being with a man before! And isn’t there something wrong with already knowing this secret? How can he even go into the office and look Kurosawa in those big, handsome eyes… every single day…

What I’ve seen so far has been pretty solid, if not particularly well animated. The visuals are really my only gripe here; I just put it off for way too long and didn’t have it in me to finish it on time to actually get this thing written and published. Yaoi isn’t my forte, which feels like a shortcoming on my end as a fledgling bisexual, and I’ve already remarked on the solid LGBT representation this past season, so I do plan on hopping back on this one.

I gotta say, the co-leading voice actors put in serious work this season. Adachi is voiced by Chiaki Kobayashi, who continued his role as Stark in Frieren, returned to Mashle as Mash Burnedead, and contributed to Metallic Rouge’s cluttered cast as Noid. Kurosawa’s seiyuu, Ryota Suzuki (of whom I’ll always be a fan for his masterful turn as Yu Ishigami in Kaguya-sama), also held down leading roles in Bang Brave Bang Bravern and The Unwanted Undead Adventurer. They’ve been great in the few episodes of Cherry Magic! that I’ve seen so far, and they’ll be a huge part of what brings me back.

The Gems:

Bang Brave Bang Bravern

I feel like the mark of a perfectly audacious piece of media is in the moments where I find myself incredulously shouting “WHAT THE FUCK AM I WATCHING” at the screen, and Bravern made me do that at least once per episode. I have so many things to say about what makes this show great but all of it can be summed up as “it fucks so goddamn hard.”

A joint military exercise in Hawaii between Japanese and American mech pilots goes south as a sudden invasion by metalloid aliens portends certain doom for humanity. Just in the nick of time, though, a bombastic, autonomous mech named Bravern arrives from space and insists that ace pilot Isami Ao take his reins. Isami reluctantly agrees, and to his consternation, Bravern goes full tokusatsu on everyone’s asses, complete with fully-diegetic theme music, and keeps the threat at bay. With Bravern continuing to pester him to act as a pilot, Isami is forced to take up the mantle of a reluctant hero as everyone rallies around Bravern to save Earth. Tagging along is blond-haired, blue-eyed American pilot Lewis Smith, who gets to live out all of his Top Gun fantasies, right down to the latent homosexuality.

That last point isn’t a projection or anything: This show is legitimately gay as hell, and it rules. Bravern’s feelings towards Isami feel far more romantic than what you’d expect from a literal robot, and his description of how it felt to have Isami pilot him for the first time, as relayed to a grim-faced military council, is riddled with hilarious innuendo. Isami struggles not only with shouldering the burden of needing to be a hero to all of humanity, but also being beset on both sides by a loud, insistent mecha and a dewy-eyed gaijin, both of whom very well seem to want to get in his pants. Intricate rituals punctuate Isami and Lewis’ angsty relationship as these broad-shouldered, muscular men grow ever closer. It’s also worth reiterating that Isami is voiced by Ryota Suzuki, who also voiced Kurosawa in Cherry Magic!, and that may not have even been his gayest role this season. I’m not super well-versed in mecha as a genre, but I do know that there’s a lot of Warrior’s Bond-type stuff in these series, and Bravern lays it on thick. And hard.

This show looks killer, by the way. CGI implementation in 2D anime is still a touchy subject, but Bravern features some of the best I’ve ever seen. Simple cel-shading goes a long way to the point where, outside of some uncanny motion, Bravern himself feels perfectly blended into the hand-drawn animation. Mecha designs range from realistic military-style tech to otherworldly sentient robots, and battle sequences run the same gamut as the stakes rise. As goofy as all of the above may sound, it’s committed to being a grandiose, big-time mecha showcase.

This is as good as camp gets in anime; Bravern does for the mecha genre what Akiba Maid War did for yakuza film pastiche (I have also heard positive comparisons to Samurai Flamenco, which I’ll have to get on ASAP). It’s an excellent mecha show in its own right, and wildly hilarious to boot. Bravern himself is very genre-savvy and seemingly a bit of an otaku himself; he loves acting like a mecha hero, to everyone else’s chagrin. Several of the villains (also mechanical beings, voiced by an all-star seiyuu roster that includes Kenjiro Tsuda, the aforementioned Atsuko Tanaka, and Rie Kugimiya) are total dorks themselves. A CIA interrogator tries to waterboard a mecha at one point. Bravern is a deeply silly show, but its heart is planted as firmly on its sleeve as its tongue is in its cheek: For as wacky as it can get, the story still unfolds with a straight face and excellent emotional beats. 

This show also has the most unskippable ED of any anime since Chainsaw Man dropped a new one every week. I will not say what happens. You cannot predict what it is. Just watch it. One of the top YouTube comments on that video says “When I saw this ending after episode 2, I thought I was going crazy.” That’s a ringing endorsement.

Chained Soldier

On the heels of 100 Girlfriends completely rewiring my brain, I was raring for some more good old-fashioned anime trash. I was told that there would be plenty this season, but you can consult the “dropped” section to see how well that worked out for me. Chained Soldier came with some significant hype, and soon enough into the first episode I realized that I’d actually skimmed through this manga before (don’t ask why), so I was on board immediately. Now here’s some nice trashy fun.

The world is in peril thanks to creatures called Shuuki that can advance on our world via portals from another dimension. Women primarily lead the charge against these monsters, as this dimension produces a special fruit that can lend them (and not men) otherworldly powers to help them in the fight. Yuuki, a perfectly normal young man, ends up in grave danger as he stumbles into a portal, where he is saved by the beautiful Kyouka, a commander who is able to subjugate Shuuki at will and use them to fight others. In a bind, she asks Yuuki if she can subjugate him, which he agrees to by licking her finger and transforming into a monster himself, at her beck and call. Because of his utility in battle, Yuuki is enlisted into her squad of baddies (and also an 11-year-old), living in their home as a caretaker and answering directly to Kyouka as her “slave.”

I know. Hear me out.

I put “slave” in scare quotes because Chained Soldier fortunately isn’t going full Shield Hero on us; this arrangement has a give-and-take baked in. See, every time Yuuki completes his service, Kyouka (or whomever else takes advantage of this anomaly) is compelled to carry out whatever suitable “reward” springs from his unconscious, and this is where the ecchi kicks in. Sometimes it’s a kiss, and sometimes it’s something a little more; the reward corresponds to the length and intensity of Yuuki’s contributions to battle, so the heat can turn up in the form of, say, clothed face-sitting, a good scrubbing in the bath, or some nice, casual CBT. All of this is to say that “slave” is a bit of a buzzword here: It’s more of a dom/sub situationship with a lot of extra steps.

Yes, just about everything that isn’t an action setup is full-on harem trash, and Chained Soldier lays it on thick, right down to full-on nudity. Nothing about this show resembles high art, but I can’t help but admire such a high level of commitment to its aesthetic, including the sleaze. It fully commits to the bit and doesn’t even bother lampshading its own trashiness. Chained Soldier knows what it’s about, and I respect that. It also has the good sense not to sexualize the youngest girl, which is a point in its favor that I can’t award a couple other shows previously discussed.

And while this show is plenty fun, the action sequences often excellent, and the character designs usually delightful, there’s not actually a whole lot going on here. As I said with Mashle, I know that battle manga like this can take a minute to really get cooking, and as I said with Witch and the Beast, 12 episodes may not always be a sufficient runtime to adapt enough to break ground, but the debut season feels more like a proof of concept than anything else. That being said, Chained Soldier’s manga has a very effusive audience, and its praises don’t seem to entirely be about the boobs and butts, so I’ll wait patiently for the second season. I think it’s earned that much.

Delicious in Dungeon

This is the one I’m having the hardest time writing about because it so confidently and so completely speaks for itself that anything I could add would feel like scattering sawdust at the beach. Dungeon Meshi (I refuse to call it by its official English title) is a widely beloved manga among those who’ve read it, and for Studio Trigger to do an honest-to-goodness manga adaptation for the first time might as well be front page news among anime fans. 

The story follows Laios, the deeply weird human hero, as he delves back into a bizarre and mysterious dungeon to rescue his sister Falin from the belly of a dragon, along with his misfit party: The neurotic half-elven mage Marcille, the temperamental halfling rogue Chilchuck, and the dwarven warrior-slash-chef Senshi. The party is frequently low on supplies, so to survive the trip they’ll need to subsist on the most abundant resource in the dungeon: Monsters. Senshi’s aptitude in the kitchen helps ensure that everything is edible and sufficiently tasty, regardless of how nasty the monster it came from may have been. With monster obstructions out of the way and their bellies filled, our party delves deeper into the dungeon as the mysteries deepen in kind.

I love the character dynamics in this so goddamn much. Marcille and Chilchuck are frequently put off by the dubious monster food presented to them, but their consternation is worsened by the fact that Laios’ fascination with the monsters it came from annoys the shit out of them. I referred to him as “deeply weird,” but that doesn’t begin to describe his absolute galaxy brain, and I mean it as a term of endearment. Laios is deeply knowledgeable and curious about the fauna in the dungeon, and not just how they taste: He is vocally curious about how certain monster attacks may feel, sings along with siren songs, and even keeps a hardcover bestiary inside his breastplate. He’s one of those people you turn to if you have a question on a hyperspecific subject, but you have to be careful how you ask it or else you’re trapped for the next two hours. And I love him for it.

Even putting the comedy aside, there is a fascinating human element at play in Dungeon Meshi, and I can tell that that surface has barely even been scratched yet. Marcille is just as dogged in her pursuit of saving Falin as Laios is, maybe even moreso (remember what I keep saying about LGBT representation this season?). Chilchuck continues to convince himself that he’s only in the job for his own personal gain, but you can see that mask slipping. And I still wanna know what Senshi’s deal is. Even with the five major players I listed, there’s an increasingly deep roster surrounding them—showcasing a broad spectrum of races and ethnicities, both real and fantastical—each with their own histories and motivations, and I cannot wait to see how they play out and interact with one another. There seem to be much deeper themes at play here as well as we learn more about perceptions and grudges between differing races, oppositional magics, clashing ideologies, and the monetary incentives that drive both the dungeon’s exploration and its very existence. I’m here for it.

I’ve been holding off on reading the manga until the season is up in June (though I could crack any day), but I know a loving adaptation when I see one. Not that Trigger ever slacks off in the animation department, but they absolutely brought their A-game here. Everyone looks bouncy and cartoony in the way only Trigger can pull off while still looking as close as possible to Ryoko Kui’s source material (as far as I can tell). As with Frieren, the action sequences aren’t frequent, nor are they entirely what the show is about, but they look incredible every single time. And the food, of course, looks incredible, no matter how weird. This is practically a cooking anime and a fantasy dungeon anime at the same time, and both aspects are visually on point at all times.

I’m obviously speaking from my own bubble as one of the six people who still use Tumblr in 2024, but I rarely see new anime make a splash like this on social media every single week, and the ones that I do are usually the monster shonen hits like Chainsaw Man or Jujutsu Kaisen. Dungeon Meshi deserves the exposure and success it’s attained, and I’m excited to see it continue. I’d easily slot this right up there with Bravern as one of the best new anime of the season.

A Sign of Affection

I’ve seen a hell of a lot of shonen slice-of-life romances in the past year and change, so a nice fluffy shoujo like this was an excellent palate cleanser. There were a hell of a lot of Big Action Setpieces and panicky teens and grim dungeon crawlers this season, and at the end of the week I wanted to unwind with a bunch of pretty twenty-somethings falling in love with each other.

The show centers on Yuki, a young woman living with congenital hearing loss, making do at a public college after growing up at a school for the deaf. Though she’s able to get by with LINE messages and lip reading, she’s unprepared when a foreigner asks for help, but she’s saved by a handsome and mysterious young man named Itsuomi. He’s able to help out, and takes an interest in her when he realizes his fellow undergrad is deaf, and Yuki takes an interest in kind because he’s really goddamn hot. It turns out that he’s a polyglot and an avid world-traveler, but sign language is not in his purview. This mutual interest sparks the concern of her childhood friend, Oushi, one of the few people in her life who already use sign language, who wants to be sure that nothing untoward is happening. And it isn’t, because this is just a really lovely, low-stakes romance story.

This is pure, unfiltered shoujo at its best. Yuki’s internal monologue is peppered with flowery prose, and everything and everyone looks soft and beautiful. Fashionable, doe-eyed women and pillowy-lipped ikemen abound (seriously, holy shit, the lips on these boys) as the scope widens and the main love interests’ friends explore their own possible love stories. Itsuomi is very much of the “mysterious boy” archetype you’ll find in romance stories in this demographic, but he’s not hiding any sort of dark past like you’d typically expect; he’s just an interesting guy who keeps his personal life close to the vest. He’s a self-appointed world citizen who loves learning about how people of all cultures live their lives, and in Yuki he sees someone within his home turf who happens to live in her own world entirely. And it’s easy to see his forward behavior with Yuki as infantilizing at first (Oushi sure does, and I’ll get back to him in a second), but as they grow closer Itsuomi quickly becomes much more considerate of her boundaries and learns to accommodate her as he studies sign language and gestures that help ensure her comfort. This is a story about Yuki’s horizons broadening just as much as it is about Itsuomi wanting to be let into Yuki’s narrow world, and that sort of synergy makes for some exceptional romance.

A Sign of Affection deserves some credit for refusing to shy away from Yuki’s disability and making a point of depicting her world as one that does little to accommodate her. Very few people in her daily life ever bothered to learn sign language, she relies on a friend to take notes during lectures, and work is hard to come by. It’s an honest depiction that makes an effort not to be exploitative, which is a breath of fresh air. Not only that, but there’s some interesting meta-commentary in there: The only major conflict in the story stems from Oushi’s jealousy, and his reservations about Itsuomi possibly “taking advantage of” Yuki almost feel like he believes that he’s the only one who knows what’s best for her just because he’s done the bare minimum to accommodate her. He thinks he’s coming from a good place, but he winds up accidentally infantilizing her in exactly the way he thinks Itsuomi might. That’s a particularly interesting bit of irony!

I’ve seen enough shonen-oriented romcoms where an unassuming Regular Guy gets flustered as a way-too-casual girl pushes his buttons (hell, I’ve already reviewed two of those this season), so it’s nice to see the formula flipped for a shoujo as Yuki and her best friend Rin blush and squee over Itsuomi and his coworker Kyouya, respectively. A Sign of Affection isn’t afraid to get a little silly with it, either; plenty of these moments are punctuated by characters’ faces going low-detail or full chibi, and they are cute as shit every single time.

This one was just cozy as hell. If you’re into this sort of thing, swaddle yourself in it and bask.

Solo Leveling

I let this one collect dust after the third episode and didn’t pick it back up until the season was almost up, and honestly, I was kinda dreading it: The trailers didn’t look too promising, the show was slow to start, and it looked like yet another derivative JRPG-style dungeon crawler that managed to get popular. Turns out, nah, this show actually kinda fucks and the web novel series and webtoon it’s based on are popular for a reason. The story is nothing special, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a perfectly serviceable turn-your-brain-off action spectacle with a bit more lying beneath the surface.

In a modern-day South Korea where portals to mysterious dungeons open up and threaten the populace, those who can brave the dungeons, known as hunters, are an invaluable human resource. Once someone is assigned a grade as a hunter, they have that grade for life, barring some rare occurrences. Sung Jinwoo is at the lowest rung on that ladder as an E-rank, incapable of improvement, assigned the epithet “the weakest hunter of all mankind.” He mostly shows up to portal raids as a warm body to fill a quota, and one such job goes haywire as most of the raid party, Jinwoo included, is brutally slaughtered in an arcane secondary dungeon within a portal. He somehow wakes up in a hospital, unharmed, and able to access a digital menu before his eyes that exhorts him to do the One Punch Man workout every day, lest he incur punishment. He gets hilariously chadly in the span of a few days in the hospital, including an inexplicable haircut, and finds access to dungeons only he can enter and levels up within this new system.

This one gets off to a slow start and may have benefited from a longer premiere like Oshi no Ko or Frieren, but once the table is fully set, Solo Leveling really starts to cook. Jinwoo’s titular leveling process is a blast from one fight to the next, and as he moves to work in the dungeons that other hunters can access, it turns out he’s been training with the weights on. He’s suddenly fighting way above his pay grade, and after staving off attacks from hunters taking advantage of portals for nefarious ends, he is recruited by an ambitious corporate scion to make some real coin and establish an independent association of hunters.

While it can feel like there’s a whole bunch of table-setting between portal sequences, it’s some smart worldbuilding on Solo Leveling’s end to establish how portal hunting became a central pillar of this society, and doubly so how political and capitalist interests can leave a wide berth for corruption and bad actors. If there’s money to be made in hunting, of course people will find ways to make even more at the expense of others, both at the corporate and individual levels. There’s a lot of talk in there about “survival of the fittest” and “natural selection” and that… makes me nervous.

Those are terms that can be used to justify immoral actions in the name of money, sure, but Jinwoo also uses them to justify his own process. To what end is he constantly improving himself? Sure, he's doing what he can to provide for his younger sister and their ailing mother, but I see less and less humanity in him as this goes on. There are constant hints at something far more sinister at play than just a dude getting stronger for himself, not the least of which being “the system,” the UI that implores him to keep taking on these “quests.” Something, or someone, seems to be guiding him. Whenever another hunter turns on Jinwoo, of course his self-defense instincts kick in, but system pop-ups instruct him to defeat X number of hostiles like it’s a normal video game scenario. There’s something eerily depersonalized about these encounters, despite them being full-on mortal combat, that gives me serious Ender’s Game vibes. Consider me intrigued.

I’d heard that the Solo Leveling manhwa’s main draw was its visuals, and though I had my doubts early on, I'm sold now. This is a pretty solid presentation! Hiroyuki Sawano turned in yet another banger soundtrack to punctuate all the action setpieces, helping to stitch together a fairly complete tapestry. Said setpieces are exhilarating and almost impressively bloody, and while the animation is nothing impressive in the day-to-day, it goes absolutely batshit when the gloves come off. Movement is inhumanly fluid and the visuals can go into the same loose, psychedelic territories we’ve seen in the likes of Mob Psycho and the second season of Jujutsu Kaisen. If this is the new meta for shonen action, I’m not complaining.

By all rights, this is a pretty decent show, but if I’m being honest, this one just hasn’t stuck with me much. And that’s fine! Sometimes I just wanna see some nutty action stuff and move on with my day. Solo Leveling hits that spot perfectly, and I'll be right back there when it returns for its next season.

‘Tis Time for “Torture,” Princess

I was surprised to learn that the gag manga this is based on, with such a seemingly simple premise, has been running for well over 200 chapters and counting. As the anime progressed, I was far more pleasantly surprised to learn that it actually works.

In a standard anime fantasy world where the forces of good are fighting the demonic Hellhorde, an unnamed warrior princess and her talking enchanted sword are taken prisoner and subjected to torture as they’re squeezed for intel. Said “torture,” as the title’s scare quotes would suggest, is mildly unconventional, as the demon baddie inquisitor, aptly named Torture Tortura, attempts to ply the princess by presenting her with tantalizingly delicious-looking food that she can only partake in if she coughs up some info. Naturally, the princess caves every single time, but her intel is often inane and useless, so the “torture” continues. It’s not all food, though: The princess is soon held out of arm’s reach of adorable baby animals by a gyaru beastgirl, pampered into submission by a spa-loving giantess, and is faced with a tsundere vampire faildaughter, who… tries. 

And you’d think that would be it; the joke wears thin and you move onto something else. Before you realize it, though, something’s changed: The princess and her captors are quickly becoming friends. The premise almost feels perfunctory: These inquisitors are actual people just doing their jobs, and whatever happens after the princess’ myriad confessions is fair game. There’s no malice or animosity, even during the “torture” sessions themselves: Everyone will have a blast and grow closer as friends, and then the princess will voluntarily go back to her bedless cell. It’s like Sam and Ralph after they clock out, except they’re almost always off the clock. Everyone is genuinely looking out for each other in all directions, and the only thing that keeps the torture going is the need for a status quo to return to, even as it grows more elastic. If anything, Time for "Torture" is a good example of committing to the bit without having to necessarily rely on it.

The real irony in all of this is that it becomes increasingly apparent that the princess is having her needs met in captivity far better than she ever did back home. In her proud proclamations about how she’ll never cave to the temptations before her (shortly before she does just that), the princess often talks about her upbringing and her time as the head of an imperial legion, but these stories often betray her lack of friendship or any of the little things that make life worth living. Her life as royalty was one of isolation and deprivation, to the point where she finds more freedom and fulfillment as a prisoner. She truly lives in a society.

Hellholm, on the other hand, has a surprisingly healthy approach to things like work-life balance, food, and leisure, and its most valuable prisoner is no exception. The Hell-Lord himself is a surprising exemplar of this; for as much as he looks and talks like your standard terrifying JRPG demon king, he’s a surprisingly good dude! He looks after his family, employees, and even the captive princess as if they are all one and the same; he exhibits strong principles and an aversion to conflict, sees to his employees' needs and wants alike, and is a supportive, loving father to his unbelievably precious little daughter (who also serves as a “torturer,” to the princess’ delight). He’s also a big time anime dork, and even bonds with a knight attempting to rescue the princess over their shared otakudom before sending him off peacefully. As “villains” go, he’s top tier.

Time for "Torture" is nothing groundbreaking by any stretch, but it’s a cute, silly time and it plays with anime fantasy tropes in the same way a six-month-old German shepherd “plays” with a cheap stuffed toy. How long the premise holds up is entirely up to you, but I had a lot of fun with it. I have no idea how this ended up being one of the better shows this season, but I guess it just scratched the right itch for me.

[pilferingapples]

LM 3.4.4

And Yet, mixed in that rant in Back Room of the Musain, Grantaire has some important lines, especially this:

 I don't attach much importance to victory. Nothing is so stupid as to conquer; true glory lies in convincing. But try to prove something! If you are content with success, what mediocrity, and with conquering, what wretchedness! 

-which echoes the narration's own judgement on Success back during Myriel's chapters :

Be it said in passing, that success is a very hideous thing. Its false resemblance to merit deceives men. For the masses, success has almost the same profile as supremacy. Success, that Menaechmus of talent, has one dupe,--history. Juvenal and Tacitus alone grumble at it...Prosperity argues capacity. Win in the lottery, and behold! you are a clever man. He who triumphs is venerated. Be born with a silver spoon in your mouth! everything lies in that. Be lucky, and you will have all the rest; be happy, and people will think you great,,,and men call that Genius, just as they call the face of Mousqueton Beauty, and the mien of Claude Majesty. With the constellations of space they confound the stars of the abyss which are made in the soft mire of the puddle by the feet of ducks.

So a side from the obvious importance of being convinced to the guy who can't hold onto convictions, I think the protest against the glory of "success" is actually one of the book's major themes! Almost no one sympathetic in this novel "wins" ; the best die young or alone or both, the worst person in the novel winds up a millionaire. And Les Mis looks the reader right in the eye and says that doesn't matter, the kind and the caring and the brave were right and their actions are the ones that will win in the end. Grantaire is in sync with the novel's message here!

...for about five seconds, and then he's off talking about how Everywhere Sucks -although, perhaps a point for him in an era of nationalism, he does insist that EVERY country sucks, not sparing France in the least, and he's not holding with the idea that Europe is a unique bastion of enlightenment! -- but also he's kind of trash talking and trolling with all of it. This is not a Reasoned Argument against Ethnocentrism, here. Diagetically, I feel like this is Grantaire attempting to troll Feuilly in particular, except Feuilly is not in the room in this scene! Which is pretty much spot on for Grantaire's level of focus in this rant.

Still, "fucked up my art homework for Snacks" is such a mood.

[jester-lover]

Desi s/o making desi food for the Dorm Leaders

Requested by enbytomura (on AO3) Warnings- fem implied reader (but not really lol), food, fluff, brief mentions of dieting, bad dialogue courtesy of Jester

A short cute lil thing :) I hope this encourages y’all to try some indian food bc these are some very basic picks

Riddle

What you make him: Gulab Jamun

Rosewater?! In food?! He’s drooling already

The fluffy center, perfectly toasted outside, completely wrapped in a glaze of rose infused sugar syrup, Riddle is in heaven

He’s holding the spoon with his full, closed fist, elbows on the table, face covered in sugar syrup

His mom would be so upsetti spaghetti, but who cares lol

He’ll notice how messily he’s eating and just take a lil pause, and blushes super hard

Gives you a hug after eating, he’s very grateful

“Thank you so so much.”

Leona

What you make him: Lamb Biryani

He literally smells it from the kitchen and goes zoom

Man runs with purpose

Barrels in and asks for a plate (real respectful)

Tries so desperately not to show how deeply he just fell in love

Adores lamb above all, tender and practically falling off the bone, with the rice practically 

soaking up spices, he won’t even get upset about the vegetables

Expect him to act like it was mediocre, but with the ferocity of his eating, you know better

“The lamb was good, don’t expect me to tell you again.”

Azul

I’m gonna jump off what the requester said abt pakoras

Our boy Azul loves loves loves pakoras

Especially paneer and potato-onion pakoras

With the paneer, he loves how soft and fluffy the soft cheese is, along with the crispy, spiced coating, his favorite sauce for those is the minty cilantro chutney, he’s so happy

With potato-onion, the far crispier of the two, with unraveling layers of red onion and thinly sliced potato wrapped up in the same spiced coating, he’ll eat that one with a tangy tamarind chutney

Literally feed this man please

“It’s my cheat day today, perhaps you could teach me to make what you fed me last week?”

Kalim

What you make him: Gol Gappa

Pani Puri, Gol Gappa, call it what you want, its good and I’m eating it

He probably grew up eating the best of the best, that probably included desi food

Rich people desi food, yknow

This makes him super excited to eat street food

Loves the fun aspect of eating Gol Guppa, definitely swallows in all in one go, reckless abandon for the win

Jamil is so happy for the two hours off he’s getting

Loves the sour and spicy cold water, along with the crunchy hallow flour puffs, definitely loads them up with potatoes

“Wonder if he could add a little more spice…”

Vil

What you make for him: Dal Makhani

Vil probably goes on a vegetarian diet at some point, because of his fondness of salad and smoothies, this didn’t bother him much, but the repetition gets him bored

So of course, you help out your man!

When he finally sits down to eat, his senses are flooded with joy

Loves it so much

The creamy, thick soup, speckled with lentils and beans, green basil and a swirl of white butter, along with a side of roti, or naan to eat it with, he’ll never forget it

One that def loves having desi food regularly, esp during diets he’ll lean back on spices to make his food taste better

He will definitely make you some german food as a thank you, like spaetzle or apple strudel

“Liebling, your cooking is spectacular.”

Idia

What you make for him: Chai with biscuits 

He’s one of those people who forgets to eat during his game sessions

You get a little worried about your guy :( 

Ortho assists you in procuring biscuits as you make chai

Idia is a little startled when you show up with a thermos and a cute little plate full of biscuits

He's so appreciative!!!

Walks with a little pep in his step for a while after (around his room ofc)

Tries to make it for you, with decent results (man is good at following written instruction)

“This is so good, do you want one of the biscuits?”

Malleus

What you make him: Kulfi

We know how much our boy loves ice cream

You know how much your boy loves ice cream

So you make him the objectively best kind of ice cream

Its trial and error at first, and malleus gets a little curious about the mystery project your working on

When you finally present it to him, he's absolutely elated!

His child of man! Made him something with love!

Absolutely adores it so much, literally devours it 

The creamy ice cream on the stick, milky and sweet with a perfect texture, he’s falls in love even harder

Favorite flavor is malai, simplicity and richness is his favorite

“I absolutely adore you.”

[heyybaejjk]

SOMETHING ABOUT YOU !

pairing. teen!miguel o'hara x fem samoan oc

content. implied smut 😞 SIONE DA BEST MAN MENTIONED 🗣️🗣️🗣️ secret relationship, jealous miguel, cutesy moments between miguel & manaia <33 not proofread yall

main masterlist.

series masterlist.

She was the epitome of beauty, that's what Miguel loved to think. In everything she did, it was utter perfection in his mind.

To the way she smiled, the way she walked, the way she sat in silence with her earphones blasting her cultural music and letting her mind run wild while jotting everything she knew in her book, whilst everyone else in class had caused chaotic mess with their confusion in every mathematic problem they tried to solve.

He admired her from across the table they both sat on, and his heart was fucking racing. He was close, yet so far away. And no, he wasn't going to slowly move his foot forward to accidentally hit her own, no.

Instead, he called out her name after finally shifting away his thoughts. "So, Manaia," she looks at him with an endearing smile, taking out both of her earphones to give the boy her full attention.

He shuts his mouth instantly. "Uh, never mind, sorry."

Miguel bites his lip nervously when she shakes her head and laughs, "You can talk to me anytime, Miggs. Don't be shy," yet she hides the fact that her face was hot, and if Miguel wouldn't open his mouth in 2 seconds, she was sure she'd run out the room out of nervosity.

He smiles, "I just wanted to say I love your new hair," and he says out of truth.

Manaia's hair that had once been honey brown had been dyed black, with a blonde counterpart underneath. She had found it so stupid, but to him, it was beautiful. She was beautiful.

"And your lip piercing as well," he compliments with a whisper.

Miguel's heart dances when she hears her giggle.

"I've always had this, Miguel," her ever so soft voice laughs.

To this, Miguel chuckles, "Never had the chance to say how beautiful it looks."

How beautiful you look, his mind thinks.

He smiles at her shy self, hiding a smile with her palm. "That's very sweet of you to say, Miggs." Her hand slides across the table to hold onto his, but backs away

Manaia loved to experiment with her looks. Now there wasn't much you can do with a simple skirt, blouse, and the same mediocre looking jumper.

Miguel was excited everyday to see what was different; whether it be with her hair, new lip combo, or with how she styled her school uniform. She loved putting on jewelry as an addition, either way, she was ethereal without a doubt.

He made notes on which look stayed for a few days, indicating she loved it. And which look only lasted one period before something was changed the next time he saw her during the breaks.

Miguel had to come to accept the fact that people around him also had eyes.

He glared at those whose whispered about how elegant and beautiful his girl looked; nonetheless his mouth stayed shut.

"Smash or pass?"

Of fucking course.

Miguel craned his neck to the side, the table he sat on was isolated but he still heard the whispers of the two boys from across the room.

"Who are you talking about?" one of the two asked, wearing his hat backward as the other had long, yet messy gold hair placed in a tight braid.

"Girl over there," the long haired boy motioned his head over to Manaia who had her back facing anyone that sat behind her. Her headphones had blasted the latest song she had downloaded, seemingly on repeat as she couldn't get over the tune.

Miguel's glare goes unnoticed from everyone else in the room, thankfully.

"Oh, Naia?" his eyes slightly widen, and he doesn't hesitate at all with his answer. "Fucking smash, obviously," the guy with the backwards hat had smirked, dapping up his friend as he chuckles.

Miguel resisted the urge to get up and make his way over to the both of them.

"Reckon she's even good at, you know?" the Rapunzel dupe questioned, trying to get his voice low as possible yet failed miserably.

"Boys? Is there anything you'd like to share?" an authoritative voice rung through the room. The middle-aged woman who stood in front of everyone had raised a brow towards the back of the room, eyes set on a particular pair of boys.

Miguel watches as Manaia pulls down her headset to pay attention in case she were the one who was in trouble, then looking behind herself to see who the elder was talking to.

"No, Miss," the boy with hair that reached his ass crack had snickered, and Miguel's blood began to boil.

But his heart calms when Manaia looks over his way with a gentle smile, as well as a wave. He smiles awkwardly back after being caught staring at her.

Miguel looks back down to his notes pretending to write.

It was semi-normal for couples to find a space where they could talk, kiss, and stuff...

Nonetheless, it was no different for Miguel and Manaia - who had walked around together with aching want to hold hands but managed to find a set of stairs that conveniently led up to the block they both had classes in.

Miguel had sat on an upper step so Manaia could sit a step below him. Settling herself between his legs, she slipped off her headphones and placed them around her neck, her music still playing in the background.

A few kisses on the cheek and forehead were shared, whispers of affection, and the sickly sweet banter - the usual of loving couples.

After awhile, they had fallen into a comfortable silence. Listening to each other breathe in the air they shared, letting each other gain warmth from the touch their bodies shared.

Manaia pulls away from his touch slightly to look up at him. "What are you thinking about?" she smiles.

Miguel is pulled away from his thinking, looking down to the girl he had his arm wrapped around.

"Pardon?"

A giggle erupts from the girl before him, "I said," her hand reaching up to poke his cheek, "What are you thinking about? I hope it's about me," she jokes.

Miguel gulps at the strong eye contact Manaia had held with him. He feels the warmth of her soft palm spread on his cheek, the soft push had made him look directly down at her just as she intended.

"Just us." Miguel whispers quickly.

"Mhm," her other free hand cups his other cheek, her head tilts curiously, "And what about us?"

"I'm just tired-" he drags his words, his eyes then widen when Manaia lets his face free from her soft hold, "Wait- no, no, not of us- I'm not tired of us, I swear I didn't mean that!" He whispers in an assuring tone, cupping her face and giving her forehead as many kisses as he could.

"Okay, okay, I believe you," she whispers in a soft voice.

Miguel sighs, "I'm just tired of us not being able to, you know, be a proper couple and we've been together for like," He counts with his fingers, "Months! We can't hold hands in public, I can't walk you to class, I can't show you off. I can't show anyone that you're my girlfriend, and vice versa," he pours his heart out to his girlfriend in expectant of her understanding.

Manaia nods her head in acknowledgement to her sweet boyfriend's words, she smiles at the trust Miguel had in sharing his feelings with her. "I get you, Miggy. I've felt the same way before, and I know I was the one to say I'd like for us to be private. I'm just scared, to be honest."

Miguel raises a brown, fully intrigued.

"What are you scared of?"

Miguel feels his heart jump when his sweet girl groans angrily, which he finds cute, "What should I not be scared of, Miguel?"

First-name basis? Miguel gasps as he thinks to himself.

Oh never-mind, she was truly upset.

"Miggy, you're-" She groans again with a pout, "You're attractive! you're bulky, you're tall, you're sporty, and you're smart!"

His face flushes at the rush of compliments he's given, "I still don't understand what you're trying to say, Naia," his fingers delicately brush a strand of hair behind her ear, as he noticed it slightly annoyed her.

Manaia huffed in annoyance, crossing her arms. Miguel chuckles, "Please just tell me what it is that's bothering you," he kisses her temple countless times as she doesn't pull away.

"You already know I barely have friends. Besides Sione, Kiuga and David, there's no one else I can talk to. And I don't want girls to try and befriend me just to get close with you," Manaia admits. She fidgets with the golden bracelet with the M initial Miguel had gotten her for their first month anniversary.

"I don't know what I'm saying honestly. I just know that I want you to myself, even if it means to keep us a secret," Manaia averts her gaze from his in a shy manner.

Manaia continues in a lowered voice, "I know how people can be. If people knew we were together, they'd talk about you regardless, especially in front of my face. They- ugh. What's that word, Miggy? They.. uh.." looking around to see something that would help her.

Miguel intervenes, "Naia, what are you-"

"FAWN! Yes, they fawn over you!" Manaia dramatically faints into Miguel's lap. Then peers back up with widened eyes looking straight at her boyfriend in shock.

"What if you find someone better along the way as well?!"

She continues on her rant for countless minutes about the silly what ifs and the "pretty" girls that would snatch him away from her.

Miguel could only admire the girl before him with a wide smile on his face, "I get what you're saying," planting a kiss on her forehead to calm her down. "But I want you to know that being together in this relationship means I'm only for you and it'll stay that way." he emphasizes before cupping his girl's beautiful face.

That was all Manaia needed before getting shy again. Trusting her boyfriend, she reaches up and leaves a loving peck on his lips.

Still in a mood, Manaia raises a brow, "You'll only love me, right?" her eyes sparkling with curiosity. His ears then catch on to the ongoing melody that rung through Manaia's headphones.

she looks just like a dream

the prettiest girl i've ever seen

Miguel chuckles, "If I wasn't going to love you only, I wouldn't have asked the prettiest girl in the world to be mine."

Manaia chuckles as she rolls her eyes, smushing Miguel's cheeks with her hand, "So cheesy."

"But if you're so concerned about people fawning over me," Miguel teases as his girl lightly slaps his chest, holding onto her wrist to keep it there, "I can think of a way to get people to lay off."

M.Ohara_99 has mentioned you in his story !

Manaia is stopped from her endless scrolling on tiktok. Her attention is on the new notification from her boyfriend. Tapping on the notif, she immediately feels a rush of heat spread on her face when she sees her chat with Miguel.

Miguel was a gym fanatic, those who liked to look knew of this. It was bound for him to post at least one photo of his progress. Yet, for him to post a photo, flexing his arms and his uncovered neck that was marked with dark, purple hickeys?

He knew those who prayed and wished for him to be theirs were going to be hurt. But did he care?

Not at all.

Manaia isn't able to fully inspect Miguel's story completely when another mention pops up.

It shows Miguel flexing his muscular back, the long and deep scratches on his back definitely wasn't made to be hidden with the way he solely focused the camera on them.

Before Manaia could bang her head against her pillow happily, she notices the very obvious mention of her username in Miguel's story.

Not even a minute goes by and Manaia gets another message.

mahi_sniffer has sent a message to pussy eatersssss

mahi_sniffer: GUYS I AM HONORED TO BE ONE OF THE FIRST TO KNOW ABOUT YALL DATING

mahi_sniffer: BUT I SWEAR TO FUCK IF I FIND OUT YOUS HAVE SMASHED ON MY BED WHILE YOUS WERE OVER AT MY HOUSE IM GOING TO FUCKING FREAK

this is so chat, i just wanted to upload this cos why not, i didnt know how else to end this LOL

[redlegumes]

Dec 10th: Never Forgot My First Kiss

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles

prompt: First kiss/First time | AO3: link | wc: 853 | rating: M | cw: trans individual and partner discuss younger self with created dead name | tags: FTM Eddie Munson, 7 minutes in heaven, pre series first kiss - post series smut and cuddles, pillow talk

Summary: Reminiscing on first kisses after another first between Steve, Eddie, and their bedsheets

For the smut before this ficlet, check out my submission for today's Steddiemas prompt here

(づ￣ ³￣)づ

“It couldn't have been more awkward.”

“What? No. I thought my seven minutes in heaven with Elsie May Munson was one for the record books.”

“Maybe. The page on firsts and failures,” Eddie scoffed.

Steve rolled his eyes. “You were the one who couldn't relax. The second that bottle spun to you you sat up as stiff as a board.”

“I was still in shock that I'd been invited to Alexis's birthday at all! Lil ‘ol trailer trash me.”

“No one thought of you like that.” Steve huffed and brought Eddie in closer to his chest. It was warm under the covers with him. Safe. “You were just really quiet. A little timid.”

“Hah, yeah. Jeez. Blossomed right out of that.”

MATURE Continues after the cut

“Big time.” Steve blushed and twisted one of Eddie’s curls, a small smile on his lips. “If it makes it better for your ‘origin story,’ I'm pretty sure Alexis's mom invited everyone in the 5th grade. So it doesn’t necessarily prove she thought about your eleven year old reputation.”

“Oh thanks,” Eddie replied, sticking his tongue out.

“Anything for you babe.”

Eddie considered letting it drop, but teasing Steve was one of his favorite pastimes. “Still doesn't explain your fish lips in that closet. 7 minutes of mediocrity at best.”

“Hey! It was my first kiss.”

“Mine too!”

Eddie looked into Steve’s smiling eyes as their fake affronted expressions shifted into laughter at one another.

When the laughter eased, Steve traced Eddie’s collarbone with his finger tip. His voice was soft and low. “Y'know, I always knew. When Elsie moved back with her dad and then two years later her 'cousin,' Eddie, came to live permanently with his uncle.”

“Here I thought I had everyone fooled,” Eddie said, shifting lightly. It didn’t make him too uncomfortable to talk about the little person he’d been, at least not with Steve. “Loud, obnoxious Eddie? Literally everything Elsie wasn't. She was always looking for permission, whereas I ask for forgiveness.”

Steve glanced away. “I liked both.” Eddie raised an eyebrow and poked Steve in the cheek till he continued. Steve sighed, “Elsie always had her head in a book. The covers looked so exciting, but you know me and reading.” Eddie gave a small nod. “And that pretty, curly, dark hair always pushed back from her face.”

“Jesus Christ, I almost forgot the headbands.” Eddie chuckled and shook his head.

Steve’s hand wandered up to Eddie’s chin, his fingers rested along Eddie’s jaw. Steve’s gaze had grown heavy. “Never forgot my first kiss Eddie. Or that little scar right under your chin, or the shade of brown your eyes are. Just like chocolate.”

Eddie squirmed a little under the weight of Steve’s affection. Sometimes it was hard to be under that spotlight, even if it was just the two of them, holed up in Steve’s bedroom. “What took you so long to come after me then?”

Steve’s lips twisted a bit. “I was under the impression you didn't want to be found. Especially by me.”

“Yeah, I guess that's true.” Eddie's hand wandered over Steve's skin, still mostly under the covers, protected from the much chillier air around them. “Glad we cleared that up. Are you um… are you glad my first with a guy was you?”

Steve snorted. “I could say the same damn thing.”

“You know what I mean,” Eddie let his hand wander down and brushed the tip of Steve's cock. He adored the flash of surprise and want it created on Steve’s face.

Steve brought Eddie’s mischievous hand over his heart. “First kiss I'll treasure always. But first fucks?” He shrugged. “That can get a little slut shame-y, I guess?”

“Oh! Here's where that Harrington charm runs out,” Eddie laughed. He quickly turned his smile to a pout, batting his eyelashes. “Not the virginity thing or whatever it's supposed to mean, bases or notches. What I really meant to say was this first for ‘us.’ Like this, are you…” Eddie paused; he didn't feel like asking for reassurance, but it was what he wanted to hear. Luckily, that seemed to click for Steve.

“Eds!” Steve's eyes widened, and he ran a hand through Eddie's hair. “Yes, gorgeous. This was everything I… Eddie I already want you just, all the damn time. This was so good, you're fucking perfect.”

“Yeah?” Eddie smiled shyly. “Perfect? I thought I was the devil.”

“You are a devil.” Steve's face scrunched up with concern. “I thought you liked when I, wait. Are you messing with me?”

“No.” Their legs slotted together. Eddie pressed his cock against Steve's thigh, already wet. “Maybe a little.”

Steve snaked one arm around Eddie’s waist, holding him in place and began to tickle Eddie. He brushed the light stubble on his chin against Eddie's chest as Eddie struggled to get his hands to tickle Steve’s stomach. They eventually stopped for breath, and Steve relaxed into Eddie’s hold this time, nuzzling along Eddie's neck. “What if I said I wanted you to be my last first,” he whispered. It sounded like a secret. As if Eddie didn't feel the exact same way.

2023 RedLegumes Steddiemas 1 2 3 4 5 6 10 SteddieHolidayDrabbles 1 2 3 4 6 8 9 10

And...

they're not even dating!

JUST KIDDING

One hundred percent, Eddie's been parading around his sweetheart, acting like he converted Steve to every dark side for months.

[m2ok]

Hey, I absolutely love your writing!! 💕 I was wondering if you would ever consider writing for Alex from cod?

Honestly I haven’t thought much about it, but I’ve since done some research (I looked at tik Tok edits of him) and gotta say I’m a big fan! I’m not entirely sure what his personality is, so I made him sorta of a Soap/ Price mixture :) feel free to request something for him if you’d like :D for now have some headcannons!

Alex Keller Headcannons

Alex Keller X M!Reader

A/N: let me know if this is super ooc for him or what his personality really is :)

This guy I think you could’ve met at a civilian. Honestly I’m picturing a meet cute, he gives hallmark vibes. Maybe you worked at the new coffee shop he frequented, or your dog ran away from you in the park and he happened to run into the little guy. Whatever meet cute trope you’d like I think would honestly work.

I think he’s one of those people where you think he’s an open book because he’ll tell you his entire life story, but you find you don’t know much about him afterwards. He doesn’t say how he feels, just what happened to him. It would take you a little bit to figure out that he hasn’t opened up as much as you thought he had.

I’m getting golden retriever energy from him honestly. He just seems like he’d follow you around throughout the day just to be around you.

maybe a mountain dog, because I think he’d be fiercely protective on the battlefield. Of course he knows you can take care of yourself, but if he’s your boyfriend he’s naturally going to worry about you.

If you do happen to get hurt you can guarantee that whoever did it is going to die a slow painful death as long as time allows. Alex doesn’t forgive that kind of thing easily if at all.

Just a little bit dumb I think. Not in the field, of course, but when it comes to everyday basic things I think he’s little dense. Like he’d put plastic in the microwave and pull out a melted container with a little pout.

He can cook breakfast foods, but nothing else. Pancakes? Absolute king. Soup? No way. He’d somehow burn the broth.

Very much adhd vibes. He will pull you into a bunch of shenanigans that get you in trouble just because he had the idea last night at 3 am.

Very gentle and soft, he likes to be the little spoon and he has no issues admitting it. He’ll just yank you down on the bed and wrap your arms around him yourself.

Definitely the type to brag about you any chance he could “everyone, this is my b o y f r i e n d y/n”. He would also start calling you his husband before you guys were married.

He’d also always ask you to marry him just because he can’t help himself. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, you could be helping him trim his beard or just cooking something for him and he’d just “marry me” with the softest little smile on your face.

You’d just laugh and go “give me a ring next time and maybe I’ll say yes”

Little did you know he already had a ring tucked away in his pocket. He didn’t plan on proposing just yet, but he kept it away just in case he found the perfect moment and couldn’t pass it up.

I think he’d only have a bit of the proposal planned out, he knew what he wanted to say but he didn’t know where. It would probably be in the same place you first met because it had sentimental value to you both.

As a husband I think he’d want to settle down pretty quickly. He’d retire from the military and live in a nice little house from you in a cute little town. It would be one of those towns where you could walk everywhere you needed to go and everyone knew everyone.

I cant get the imagine of him and blue jeans on with a carhartt jacket and beanie on. I just think he’d look so fine.

He likes hiking absolutely. I imagine you living somewhere that has a really close by hiking area. He just loves nature so much and loves to be in it.

Mediocre at putting things together. Furniture with instructions is no issue and simple things like a birdhouse or a shelf he can do, but nothing extravagant (nothing can beat Price I’m so sorry I love him so much he’s so perfect)

Another imagine I can’t get out of my mind is plaid. Specifically as your bed sheets. It would be like a thick, comfy sort of sheet. Nice and soft and great for cuddling.

His love language when it comes to showing it I think is gift giving. It doesn’t have to be extravagant either like he’ll just find a cool rock and give it to you. Or a little paper crane he’s made

On top of that he’s a fantastic gift giver around the holidays or your birthday. He just loves seeing how happy you get when you open something and find it was the exact thing you mentioned months ago.

Definitely buys presents all year around that way the tree is absolutely packed when Christmas comes around.

If you don’t celebrate Christmas he does his absolute best to follow your traditions and be respectful of how you celebrate if at all. To him the holidays are all about spending time with those you love, no matter how it’s done.

Overall I think he’s a very kind, open, loving partner. He loves you with his whole heart and doesn’t have a lot of issues showing that.