#fulfilled asks

[stripedstarsblueflags]

↻ FLIP FLOP: send me a scene from one of my fics and I’ll describe or write it from another character’s POV!

Mark’s pov please from 5 Things You Can See, I need angsty Mark as much as sad Seb

anon i left this ask in my inbox and dithered with different plot ideas in my head for AGES and then tonight i sat down and wrote the entire thing in one angst-ridden frenzy so apparently i really needed this prompt!!! thanks for being one of the very few things in this world that have somehow managed to get me to finished a wip xxx

anyone. asked, delivered:

“Not bad for a number 2 driver.”

As if winning 2010 Silverstone wasn’t enough of a bite, Mark just had to sink his teeth that little bit deeper. On the broadcast. To the whole team.

“Keep running your mouth and you’re gonna regret it,” Christian had seethed to him off-mic, his plastic smile doing nothing to hide the venom in his eyes. “You’re not a victim, you’re not a hero, you’re just another body behind the wheel. You’ll answer to your owners just like everybody else.”

Owner. Not boss, not team principal. Owner.

He did come to regret his words. Would’ve eaten every one of them if he could, swallowed them down like razor blades and let them slice him up from the inside out, but not because of any sort of reprimand.

Seb doesn’t know he’s the reason Mark regrets that quip. Mark certainly never told him.

They weren’t staying in the same hotel for the Silverstone weekend, so he was waiting in his car a few streets away from Seb’s. He’d gotten a call earlier in the night– maybe a summons would’ve been a better way to describe it. They didn’t even have a full conversation: Seb had simply told him the floor and room number in a voice so void of emotion it sounded automated. Then he’d hung up, and any attempts Mark made to call him back went straight to voicemail.

Seb was sulking, then. Figured. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d reached out to Mark in a fit of angst, pale eyes bloodshot, trembling with pent-up desire and grasping onto Mark like a drowning victim searching for land.

It was good to be with him like that. Good to hold him down, pinning his wrists to the bed, pressing burning kisses to his jaw until the hitching, staccato breaths turned to moans. Good to feel him start to come apart, to come down, under Mark’s hands.

Even the thought of it was making heat coil in Mark’s stomach– that and the high of the victory, still unfading even hours later. He was just climbing out of the car when his phone rang again.

“Turn around,” Seb said before Mark could get a chance to speak.

“What?” Mark turned one way and then the other, breath condensing into warm clouds in the English night air, before he saw the forlorn figure at the end of the street. If it weren’t for the flickering streetlight above him, he would’ve been too far to see.

Mark squinted at the figure, making out a hunched form leaning against what he now recognized as Seb’s rental car for the weekend. Listening to his voice inches away from his ear while straining to even see him was discerning.

“What–“ Mark started, uncharacteristically flustered. “How long have you been watching me?”

“Come here.” Seb hung up the phone and Mark watched him put it away, ending any further conversation.

“What the hell are you playing at,” Mark growled to the empty air. He shrugged his jacket up and crossed the street, feeling each dingy street lamp overhead like an exposing spotlight.

Seb was looking down when Mark finally reached him, shadows eclipsing his eye sockets. Mark kept his own head down, aware that they were completely exposed to in view of anyone driving by. He spoke with his teeth gritted: “Seb, what are y–“

Seb grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a kiss that was all teeth and hunger, crushing them together so violently that Mark lost his footing. He had to struggle to get away, battling against Seb’s steely grip until he could finally catch enough breath to speak. “The fuck’s gotten into you!”

Seb twined his fingers in Mark’s hair and pulled, catching his lower lip between his teeth again. Forget about playing with fire, Seb was burning them alive– anyone could see them– but the danger was threading itself along with the arousal through Mark’s veins and his resistance was falling to pieces.

Seb leaned back just enough to pant, “Get in the car,” finally releasing his death grip on Mark to yank the door open.

Mark reached around and cradled the back of Seb’s head just in time to stop Seb from banging it on the car roof as he tried to scramble into the backseat. Seb’s movements were unsteady, practically frenzied; Mark gave up on trying to support his head and pushed Seb down onto the backseat, pinning his hands beside his head just to get him to slow down. The door swung half-shut behind them.

In the instant it took Mark to reach back with one hand and pull it all the way closed, Seb was up again. He was shaking all over, palms sweating, too slick to find purchase on Mark’s shoulder. He twisted his other wrist, trying to free himself, and managed to scrabble at the bottom of Mark’s shirt.

“Sebastian.” Mark put all the force he could behind the name. It came out gritty, a barely restrained roar disguised as a command.

Seb stilled beneath him, one hand flailing limply over his chest, but his eyes were still wide and manic, his breathing broken up into spasmodic pants.

”Seb,” Mark began, but Seb lifted up his knee and ground it between Mark’s thighs. Mark bit his lip, choking on the rest of his sentence, and a familiar bitter arrogance seeped into Seb’s gaze like hot oil.

Mark grimaced and clenched his teeth, but couldn’t resist lowering his hips to grind against Seb, who let out a drawn-out, gasping moan.

”Why did you–“ Mark tried again, but Seb dipped his head and recaptured Mark’s lips, jaw nearly slack. Seb kissed him like he was dying of thirst, weakened with the force of his own need but still trying to drink his fill. He reached for Mark’s jacket, finally gaining enough control to start pushing it down his shoulders until Mark took the time to straighten up and shuck it off, shirt soon following.

Seb glided his hands down the smooth planes of Mark’s chest and closed his eyes, licking almost delicately into the corner of his mouth.

There was something deeply wrong about this, Mark knew. The way Seb would sometimes seem to be on the verge of a breakdown, frenzied and out of control on adrenalized desperation, but fall soft and still under Mark’s touch. The way he almost couldn’t breathe until Mark kissed him, the way he gasped air from Mark’s lips as if he’d never known any other atmosphere.

That was wrong in and of itself, Mark knew, but worse still was how much Mark liked it. How he reveled in it, holding Seb’s moments of weakness in his memories like a wolf with a rabbit between its jaws.

“You came back to me,” Seb moaned, lifting his hips as Mark undid his belt.

Mark didn’t say anything, willing his own arousal to smother the doubt those words wanted to stir, even as Seb kept talking. “I knew you would.”

Mark shifted back against the opposite door to yank Seb’s jeans and pants down to his knees. Seb inhaled sharply, back arching.

”You always do,” Seb slurred as Mark kissed a path up his inner thigh. “You can’t get away from me, no matter how hard you try. I’ll always be the one you can’t stand to lose.”

Then Mark took Seb into his mouth, and those were the last words that would be spoken for a long time.

What a horrible thing to be remembering now.

Horrible, but apt. Because what did Mark do as soon as he saw the text?

You always do.

Mark had been doing so well. Letting all the calls go to voicemail, all the messages left unread on his home screen. He’d let Seb’s pitiful cries for him echo out into an undeceiving chasm. Let him break. Let him fall apart. Let him realize he doesn’t need me.

They’d even been in the same room (well, if the presentation hall the award ceremony took place in could be called a room) and Mark hadn’t even looked for him.

please

i’m sorry

i need you

In his pathetic, pleading messages, Seb hadn’t even had the consideration to capitalize his sentences.

Mark’s hands are beginning to shake as he replays the voicemail. He flexes his wrists and thinks about getting a drink. Then he thinks about driving.

A notification lights up the top of his screen, then another in rapid succession.

room 5

key on the windowsill

Fucking hell. Key on the windowsill of a shitty, sketchy motel in the shittiest, sketchiest slums of the city?

Mark thinks of the twenty three year old he used to know. His upstart teammate who fought him on the track and kissed him on the street with the same blistering ferocity. He thinks of all the bruises and broken promises between them, of Seb’s words that night that, all these years later, still ring with cold and lethal truth.

I’ll always be the one you can’t stand to lose.

Keys on the windowsill, fuck. He calls Seb.

His voice is even more shattered than Mark thought it would be. He sounds small like this. Small and scared.

Mark talks him down, phone in one hand and car keys in the other.

He probably drives too fast.

When swipes the key from under the broken window and lets himself into the room, he hears Seb before he sees him. The pained groan comes from behind the bed, where Seb must be tucked away.

”Sebastian?” Mark calls, quietly shutting the door behind him. It’s the dead of night, but he feels an awkward urge to keep his voice down. The room is about as wrecked as Mark predicted. There’s a cluster of empty bottles on the nightstand and a few half-smoked cigarettes on the bed, seemingly having been put out on the mattress. It’s a miracle he hasn’t started a fire.

Mark places the room key on a shelf and waits for a minute before crossing the room.

“Sebastian,” he says and waits, because there’s still time for Seb to stand up. For him to pick up his own pieces, literally stand on his own two feet, and face Mark with clarity in his eyes. For anything to be different.

The silence trails on.

Mark could keep waiting, but he knows it wouldn’t matter.

Some things never change, he thinks. It’s a resentful thought, but he can’t muster the bitterness to back it up. Seb may have called him in a moment of weakness, but Mark has a weakness of his own.

From the other side of the bed: “You came.”

A weakness that Sebastian has always known how to exploit.

“I shouldn’t have.”

It would be simpler, if any of that anger was real. If Mark could find some solid ground to stand on.

”You didn’t have to,” Seb says quietly, like a confession. Like he’s ashamed.

It hurts. Hurts in Mark’s chest, his throat, the pit of his stomach.

“I know.” Mark starts moving.

I’ll always be the one–

He turns the corner and sees Seb.

Jaw slack, eyes glassy. His face is the color of sleepless nights. He’s lost weight, the shadows in the hollows of his cheeks seeming that much darker. He doesn’t even turn to look at Mark; his head lolls slightly, not a spark of presence in his expression. He looks more than drunk; he looks beaten. Like if Mark pulls up his shirt he’ll find bruises, broken bones.

–you can’t stand to lose.

He drops to Seb’s level and watches his pupils dilate when they come face to face. Warm relief floods the pallor of his face, an intoxicated grin smearing over his mouth, and then he slumps forward.

”Whoa, whoa, hey. Uh-uh.” Mark’s body reacts a split second ahead of his mind, still registering the panic by the time he’s grabbed Seb by the shoulders. Seb’s eyes are still dangerously unfocused.

Mark holds Seb’s jaw firmly, forcing his head still. “Head up. Look at me.”

He watches Seb struggle to focus, eyelids fluttering. His lower lip glistens with spit. Some of it spills down his chin.

Mark holds him firmly. “Look at me, Seb.”

The panic eases its death grip on Mark’s heart as Seb comes back to him, struggling to hold his head up. Mark doesn’t let go; Seb’s face is cold and sweaty under his palm. “Fuck,” Mark whispers. “Did you take something?”

Seb’s lips slide around emptiness before he can get the words together. “Didn’t,” he mumbles. “I just needed to hear your voice…”

Of course.

Mark lets out a sigh that wants to be a scream. Why does he keep lying to himself? Why does he always go into this as if Seb is a pile of broken pieces Mark can just put back together, instead of a disease that can only poison Mark as well?

Weakness. That’s what’s at the heart of it, plain and simple.

For a second he hates Seb for it. Hates him with every fiber of his being, every pounding heartbeat and heavy breath. He hates Seb for making his own weakness their weakness, for spreading the pathetic instability like a virus, for wrapping a chain around Mark’s neck just by making him care.

He hates Sebastian for a second, but it’s a fire lit in outer space: combustion evaporating in an instant.

They both know Seb isn’t making Mark do anything.

Mark eases his grip on Seb’s face, fitting his palm to the curve of Seb’s jaw. He never used to touch Seb this gently. Gentleness wasn’t… them.

Now Seb turns his face into Mark’s hand and brushes his lips over Mark’s fingertips. His eyes are too wide and too dark, flashing out at Mark with the vulnerability of an open wound.

Unable to help himself, Mark runs his fingers through Seb’s hair.

“Please don’t go,” Seb whispers.

As if Mark doesn’t feel bound to him. As if their hearts aren’t tied together, chamber by chamber.

Mark takes a deep breath. “Can you stand?”

Seb can’t, so Mark half-guides and half-carries him onto the bed. Seb doesn’t move as Mark lays him down, eyes drooping closed, and Mark thinks he’s already fallen asleep by the time he climbs into bed beside him.

Then Seb shifts closer, curling his arms in and tucking his face into Mark’s chest. “Just for tonight,” he murmurs.

Mark wants to hate Seb for that.

Instead he wraps an arm around Seb’s thin shoulders and draws him closer. “Just for tonight.”

His own voice betrays him. The vulnerability in his voice betrays him.

Seb buries his face deeper, his hair tickling Mark’s neck. Seb can’t see Mark’s eyes, squeezing tight against a sting he refuses to cave to.

“No one’s ever cared about me like you.”

A knife to the chest would hurt less. A punch in the stomach would be more merciful.

Mark draws in a breath and wills the emotion out of his voice like he’s willing back the weight of the ocean. “You can’t say that to me, Sebastian.”

But Seb is already asleep.

[konigsblog]

König who has a high sex drive. (🌽 link)

As humiliating and humbling as it sounds, you're nothing but a fleshlight for König. He can't control how horny he becomes, especially in the morning, after a workout, and while drinking together. He becomes a giggling pervert who can't help but touch you all over, his hands reaching between your thighs to grope your tight cunt.

“Please, Maus, just one more round, that’s all I desire.”

He's obsessed with the gummy, sticky sensation of your walls wrapped tightly around the shaft of his meaty cock. He'll bend you over any surfaces he finds, whether that's the kitchen countertop, a desk, or the couch. He adores having control, but occasionally, he'll allow you to take control — well, he has to plead with you through whines and tears to ride him, stinking of booze and nicotine, too tired to take control, but too horny not to have sex or receive any stimulation. König is like a dog in heat. For König, the need is constant and perverse thoughts won't stop rushing through his mind until he's fulfilled and satisfied.

“Bitte- stop moving, please. Gottverdammt, you add fuel to my addiction, Liebling. How do you expect me to resist something so tempting? So addictive?”

König will use you for hours if that's what he feels like doing. He'll wipe the tears from your glassy eyes, thanking you between rounds by kissing your bare shoulder, sinking back inside before you can catch your breath. He'll whine about having to use protection, that it ruins the session he's having with his beloved angel.

König is uncontrollable when he's aroused and pent up, constantly trying to rip your clothing from your body, sometimes sobbing through drunkenness, desperation, and derangement.

[stealingyourbones]

There’s a new drug in Gotham making the rounds, one synthesized by Two-Face’s people; if you take it you will have a 50/50 chance that you’ll experience the greatest high of your life or that you’ll die.

Batman is desperately trying to find the main lab and cut off the production from the source and hasn’t been able to find a lead in weeks.

That’s when Gordon gives him a file that was given to him by a “white haired ghost kid”. It’s a detailed report written similarly to a scientific journal with detailed sources that are mainly first hand accounts from deceased victims of the Two-Face drug.

At the very end of the paper there’s an address to a Gotham University dorm room with a sticky note next to it that says “if you need help with death or the undead. Yours truly; Danny Fenton.”

[autosadist]

lol maybe a not great way to phrase this but a lot of trans men are NOT emotionally prepared to be "treated like men" outside their insular transmasc fagdyke friend groups and fly off the handle fucking immediately the first time they are unfairly mistrusted for being a dude (shitty and im not saying this should be the case but did you not fucking comprehend why people act this way toward men and come to expect this?) or ghosted/rejected by a trans woman bc she prefers dating other trans women, or maybe simply someone else (we have all fumbled people, there is no need to become generally vindictive toward women about it bc they aren't attracted to you...)

[asha-mage]

MDZS AU where Jiang Cheng realizes that Lan Sizhui is the Wen orphan that Wei Wuxian took care off during the Burial Mounds arc, decides that's close enough to qualify him as Nephew, declares that no Nephew of His (much less a surrogate son of Wei Wuxian's) is going to be raised in the Cloud Recedes, and immediately launches into a custody battle with Lan Wangji.

But since neither Jiang Cheng or Lan Wangji can acknowledge that Sizuhi has any connection to Wei Wuxian, both begin steadfastly and stubbornly insisting that he is a Cultivator of peerless potential and skill and he belongs in their sect thank you very much, and would clearly be very unhappy in the other's. This confuses the hell out of the already mystified Cultivation world, who had barely adjusted yet to gossiping about Sizhui being Wangji's illegitimate child by mysterious love affair.

(Eventually the common consensus in the rumor mills is that both JC and LW where in love with Sizhui's mother and both believe themselves to be Sizhui's real father.)

(LW couldn't care less what gossips say, but JC has to bite his tongue till it bleeds to avoid telling anyone the truth in a fit of anger.)

(It was Nie Huaisang who put that rumor out in the first place, partly to troll JC, partly because, in a way, it's a little true.)

[shorthaltsjester]

when people think delilah just completely takes over and laudna has no control. when people think jester is just an uwu child who has been manipulated by every man she’s met. when people think vex is an empty husk of daddy issues without her brother by her side. when people think fjord is an arrogant asshole who doesn’t pay attention to the party around him. when people think scanlan saying that vox machina doesn’t care about him is an accurate assessment.

[knifearo]

ultimately when it comes to shipping and fandom space treatment of aspec characters i just don't accept "aro/ace people can still date/have sex" as an answer from nonaspecs. like yeah. mhm. okay. now i think we both know that you're not saying that out of real interest in the diversity of aspec experiences. so you can turn in your seventeen-page essay on why and how you plan to examine this character's aspec identity within the context of a romantic or sexual relationship complete with evidence from canon and peer reviews from multiple aspec people within the next week or i'm putting you in the pit from the edgar allen poe story

[crabsnpersimmons]

thanks @random-tail and @enamoredfey for the questions! i'll let Sun himself answer:

long-story short, Sun doesn’t believe he has emotions since he is a robot 😔

of course, he sees Moon and Eclipse emote all the time. he usually attributes it to Moon being a fool (believing he is something he's not) and Eclipse being manipulative (given that he was originally built for the theater)

but there is a part of him that wonders if he is missing something—he just doesn’t understand what that is

Note: i should also mention, his voice is almost completely monotone. the closet idea of a voice claim for this Sun is Greg Chun's voice for Lukas from Fire Emblem Echoes—fairly even in tone, somewhat soft

[baskeigh-ball]

Well, this is new.

MM! Mikey is bored at the lair with nothing to do, so he decides to do some harmless breaking-and-entering into Donnie's lab. Maybe he feels like answering a few questions?

(yes this is temporarily becoming an ask blog. why? well i say why not)

[poqu]

can you draw swampert or reuniclus please? they’re my favorites!!! :D

I drew reuniclus twice ^_^ i had one on my white 2 team that i loved very much

[bug-hearted]

"He likes your eyes," whispers Aziraphale. 'So do I,' goes unsaid.

have a soft painting :)

(edited 26/12/24: i see fellows have been reblogging this one again! thank you! very timely, it being jesus' semi-canon birthday recently. happy holidays!)

[pedgito]

JOEL MILLER in every scene — 1/?

[eevees-hobbies]

Hiya! Could I please request the wind breaker boys, bofurin & shishitoren reactions to the reader in a sexy Halloween costume at a party? (Possibly a sexy bunny girl, but any sexy costume really 💜)

Author’s Note: Anon, you’re wild for thinking about Halloween this early! But I get; I’m a spooky girlie, too. Or am I off base, and Halloween is just an excuse to dress like a bunny girl? Anyway, I enjoyed writing this! I might do a part 2 with more characters as we get closer to Halloween. Here are some reactions and scenarios to your costume!

Content Warning: Um, tis smutty. Thigh-fucking, making out, groping in public, sex in a residence that isn’t yours, nipple licking, mention of face-fucking, jealousy, cumshot, public humiliation, masturbation. 

Word Count: 2.2K

Divider by Saradika. Story banner by me.

Haruka Sakura

You swore you told Sakura what you planned to wear at the Halloween party. Maybe you were a little non-descriptive when you said you were going to wear a bunny outfit, leaving out the fact that the neckline dipped so low that there was a potential of your breasts falling out of the top or how your “bottoms” consisted of only thigh high fishnet stockings.

When Sakura saw you from across the party, he stopped mid-conversation with Suo, who followed Sakura’s line of sight and let out a whistle when he saw you.

“Wow, Sakura. I had no idea you were so secure in your relationship that you’d let Y/N wear something so revealing. I don’t think I–oh,” Suo couldn’t finish his sentence because Sakura was shoving people in the crowd just to get to you. 

As Suo watched his friend part a sea of people with his palms to their faces, he couldn’t help but smirk. “Maybe I instigated that a little.”

As you raise your hand to give a friend a wave, Sakura grips your wrist and pulls you into the nearest room. Your eyes can barely adjust to the darkness, but based on the smell of oil and what you believe to be an outline of the roof of a car, you realize that you’re in the homeowner's garage. The sound of the door locking echoes ominously behind you. If this were any other situation, you’d probably scream, but somewhere in the darkness is Sakura, and there’s nothing to worry about, right?

You reach out in an attempt to touch him–hoping to grab a hand or bicep–but you only feel a firm grip on your shoulders and being turned around, forcibly bent over with your face against the hood of the car.

“Why’d you have to wear something so fucking slutty?”

“W-wha?! Sakura?!” you try to move from underneath him, but his hand against your lower back is unwavering. You hear the sound of pants unzipping, “Kitten, there’s no way you're going to be able to put your dick in me. This thing is so tight against my crotch–”

“Who said I want your pussy,” he grumbles. You hear him spit into his palm before he places two thumbs against the exposed flesh of your thighs and spreads them. Sakura’s body tenses up as he slips his dick in between your inner thighs, his head practically swimming at how warm and soft they are.

You can’t help but place a hand over your mouth, stifling a laugh as your boyfriend ruts against your thighs, and you would have kept laughing if not for the feeling of his cock rubbing against the crotch of your outfit. The friction against your clit has you biting your lip and bouncing back against him because fuck, maybe he’s onto something?

Ren Kaji

“What are you supposed to be?” Kotoha asks you as she tilts her head, eyes sweeping over your not-so-halloween outfit. You’re wearing a gray hoodie, black skinny jeans, and your boyfriend's Bofurin jacket. Your hand reaches up instinctively to touch the headphones around your neck–a sudden habit you’ve developed during the night to make sure they're still snug and in place.

“I’m dressed as Ren. Can’t you tell?”

You had been wearing a bunny outfit earlier that night, but as you exited the bathroom in your home and did a twirl for Kaji, ears flopping up and down as you bounced, you quickly realized that you might need to consider a new outfit.

Kaji looked over you with unbridled lust and a hint of jealousy pooling in his eyes. He can mentally see how his friends will drink you in tonight. The idea of them lusting after you, thinking about fucking you, and even touching themselves to the thought of you has the sucker in his mouth breaking against clenched teeth.

He can see Tsugeura pretending to squeeze past you by putting his large, muscly hands on your curvy hips, his crotch so close to your ass you’d feel the bulge rubbing against your exposed cheeks. 

He can see Kiryu sweetly asking to take a picture of your outfit, placing an arm around your shoulders, a hand leisurely placed in between the valley of your breasts, a finger brushing against the spot in your outfit where he knows your nipple is straining against the fabric.

“Give us a pretty smile for the gram, sweetie!” That very picture no doubt being used for nefarious activities that night. 

“No.”

You wrap your arms across your chest, fully intending to stand your ground, “No?” You let out a breathy laugh but pause when his mouth doesn’t give way to a smile. 

“Absolutely not. Go change.” His voice is smooth, as if there’s no room for argument, and with Kaji, there really isn’t.

He was serious! 

“I don’t understand?”

“Let me show you what my friends will fantasize about doing to you when they see you dressed like that. Get on your knees.” 

You bite your lip, briefly considering disobeying, but when Kaji gives an order, you better listen, or else you’ll end up with a sore ass. Without breaking eye contact–though your heart is stuttering in your chest–you do what a smart girl does and get on your knees for your boyfriend.

And Kaji didn’t feel an ounce of remorse when he slipped his dick past your pretty lips and rested heavily on your eager tongue. 

He didn’t feel an ounce of remorse when his dick was so far down your throat that drool was dripping down and landing on your splayed-out thighs below you, splattering against the opening in your fishnets. 

He certainly didn’t feel remorse when he gritted his teeth as his balls clenched violently, and he pulled your head back by those silly bunny ears and came on your chest and, in extension, your Halloween costume–effectively ruining it.

You gave him an earful for how petty and ridiculous he was, but he simply put a sucker in his mouth and stared at you with a glint of humor behind his blue eyes, pleased with himself.

As Kotoha nods and looks your “Ren Kaji” outfit up and down, you can feel eyes boring into the back of your head. You turn and catch Kaji's gaze from across the room; unsurprisingly, he still has that same pleased look.

Jo Togame

You squirm restlessly in the lap of Togame. Since you arrived at the party, he hasn’t let you out of his sight.  

As soon as he laid emerald eyes on you, those eyes slowly appraising your body from head to toe, all his attention was on you and only you. “Do a little spin for me, beautiful?” he crooned while imitating the spinning gesture with a finger.

You were more than happy to oblige for him because good bunny girls listen! You spun around, enjoying the hungry look you were getting from him and his Shishitoren buddies.

“Yeaaaah, I need a closer look.” He points to his lap, a seat you’re all too familiar with. You must not have been moving fast enough as you approached him because he grabbed your hand and pulled you into his waiting lap.

Through the night, he continued to hold conversations with friends and sip at his bottle of ramune, all while your ass lives plastered against his crotch. As you squirm, his arm around your shoulders only pulls you in more, and he shoots you a smile.

“Hey, can you all give me a minute with my girl?”

You relish in his words as his friends shuffle off elsewhere and Togame turns his attention to you. 

“I hope you know what this costume is doing to me.”

Of course, you know what the costume is doing to him. You’ve been sitting on something long, thick, and ridiculously hard all night.

You look at him through your eyelashes and bite your lip as he places a hand on your breast in front of partygoers and kisses you, all while keeping you in his lap. It feels sinful to be so publicly obscene, and you can hear mumbles and murmurs from around you as his tongue slides into your mouth and his hand squeezes the flesh of your breast, fingers dancing over the exposed tops of them that are being pushed out of the corset.

He pulls away and tilts his head towards the door, “Wanna get out of here? I have plans for this costume.”

And you can’t put a perfectly good bunny costume to waste, can you? No, you can’t.

Hajime Umemiya

I’m sorry for all you toxic-love enthusiasts out there, but Ume is as wholesome as they come. Every Halloween, you two take immense care and consideration in picking out matching outfits. You are the epitome of #couplegoals. And after weeks of sending back-and-forth links to costumes, you finally agreed upon the perfect ones. 

Sugishita stares at the halo around Umemiya’s head and nods in complete agreement–yes, of course, he’s an angel. It fits perfectly, he thinks to himself.

“Water, Ume?” You walk up behind him, offering him a bottle of water. Umemiya is shirtless except for feathery white wings that are strapped around his chest. At the last minute, he decided to keep it simple with white pants and a black belt. You are dressed as his inverse, the angel to his devil with horns and a tail. 

You take a minute to admire his shirtless figure, broad shoulders, and freshly healed scratches from the night before, which puts a bit of a dopey smile on your face. The muscles in his strong back shift as he turns to look at you with a grin upon hearing your voice.

“Baby girl! There you are! I was just telling Sugishita that you should have been the angel since I think it fits you more.

You shake your head, smiling, “I like playing the devil. Don’t you think that’s more fitting for me, Sugishita?”

Sugishita looks between you both, nodding furiously at his favorite person’s favorite person.

And as the night draws to a close and you’re both helping the homeowner clean up after the party, you can’t help but push Umemiya into the closet, closing the door behind you.

And you might be the one who instigates the first move, but he’s the one who pushes you against the wall in return, your body sinking into the clothes on the coat rack. 

“Ume, you’ve looked like a snack all night.”

“Yeah? I wouldn’t mind you taking a bite out of me.” he shivers as your fingers trace his nipples. He’s always been sensitive there, and you’ve always been quick to take advantage of that.

“I think we should keep these outfits for a little roleplaying, no?” Your tongue darts out and traces the curvature of his nipple, earning you a whimper and “Oh, fuck” from Ume’s lips.

He looks down at you, already making quick work of removing the red corset around your midsection. “How much time do you think we have before they realize we’re in the closet?”

You smile and kiss his jaw, “Maybe 7 minutes if we’re quiet?”

“When have I ever allowed you to be quiet?”

Fuck, he has a point.

Hayato Suo

You had no idea what you were planning to wear to the costume party, so when Suo offered to help you find an outfit, you happily accepted.

You’re a glutton for punishment, I suppose.

Suo knew precisely what he was doing. With the deliberate actions of a sociopath, Suo ordered your costume early but chose not to say anything to you. It wasn’t until you glanced at the calendar that your eyes widened at the encroaching date circled in red marker. 

“Suo! I still don’t have a costume, and the party is in two days!”

“Ooh,” he clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “I told you I’d handle everything. I already have something picked out specifically for you.”

You were overtaken with relief. Suo always had a plan; you knew he wouldn’t disappoint you. At least that’s how you felt before he brought out the most revealing bunny costume you’d ever seen.

And to be honest, you weren't even sure they sold this version of the costume in regular stores. But what were you going to do? The party was in two days, and if you wanted to go shopping for a costume, you’d have no option but to pick from the leftovers, and you’d end up dressed like the Kool-Aid man. No, thank you!

You took the costume, eyes drilling into the most revealing of spots. “What’s your costume, Suo?”

“I don’t do costumes, but if anyone asks, I’ll tell them I’m your handler, sweet bunny girl.”

Two days quickly come and go, and as you enter the party with Suo walking so close behind you, you can feel the heat from his body on your exposed back; eyes stop and stare at you, and Suo drinks every interaction in as though he’s using it as foreplay until he can finally get you alone and underneath him. 

For now, he watches in delight as you make all of his friends so uncomfortable with your jiggly thighs, bouncy ass, and flushed cheeks.

[tizzymcwizzy]

my final pieces for my humanities project! the topic was on bearing witness to history

this collection covers some of the facets of being a first generation chinese american kid, and for me specifically, being a biracial white asian kid

[allastoredeer]

It's kind of funny to think that when Lucifer points out to Charlie that they have the same blood, it's clear that Lucifer has golden blood due to being an Angel, while in battle we see that Charlie actually has red blood, probably due to being the daughter of the first human/sinner woman, which ironically makes her even closer to Alastor just on a visual level.

Another thing I love about that song is that Lucifer stresses that he will support her, but always focusing on material things and the use of his power. While Alastor, the manipulative bastard who knows everyone's weaknesses, brings out all the bonds and emotional support he's given Charlie just by being there from the beginning, how they've become friends, how he makes her laugh with his jokes, he even hugs Niffty, and all that "corny" stuff is what Charlie really appreciates, but she has no interest in material things.

Ooooh! Good point about the blood! In that aspect, she could be more closely affiliated with sinners than Lucifer or the hellborn.

Also, that's what I REALLY love about Alastor and Lucifer's song, because your right! Lucifer is focusing on all the things he can get her. Material items. Which is exactly where he went wrong.

Charlie is the princess of Hell, I'm pretty sure she has no problem buying anything. Lucifer may be able to snap things into existence, but that's not what Charlie wants. It's not what she needs.

Alastor, on the other hand, is observant as fuck. He was with the Hazbin crew for only a week before he pegged Charlie's daddy issues.

It is also very interesting that in this photo Lucifer is in the spotlight with his back turned to Charlie, and Charlie's body language is so hurt and closed off, she's literally on the brink of tears. I'm just saying, I don't think we give Charlie's feelings about her and Lucifer's relationship more credit. We tend to focus more on Lucifer's emotions and that is such a shame because LOOK at her. Charlie is not okay.

Charlie wants connection, support, and community. She wants someone to be proud of her. She wants someone who is reliable and involved.

And Alastor knows that and, when you think about it, he HAS done that.

Look at Charlie's face when he tells her he's happy to "fulfill all her bizarre request."

Requests. Not just poofing items into existence.

We've already seen examples of Alastor being involved with the hotel and doing things that Vaggie and Charlie ask him to do, such as taking the egg bois with him, sitting in on Charlie's exercise's, making a commercial, building a new wall, dealing with clogs--and I imagine he's done a lot more over the 6 months that he's been there.

(Also, not to go off topic but Alastor's back arch oh my god??????)

Look at her face when Alastor say's that she's an "impressive young lady" and that they're all "very proud of her."

He didn't even need to say "I'm proud of her," it was "we're proud of her."

It makes me wonder when the last time Charlie heard those words. Did Lucifer and Lilith ever tell her they were proud of her? I looked through the episode transcripts, and there wasn't a single time Lucifer said "I'm proud of you", even after they rekindled their relationship.

I think it's something Charlie has wanted to hear for a VERY long, and hearing it from Alastor (who's as close to a father figure as she's had, I guess), I can't imagine how much that meant to her.

Also note Charlie's face when Lucifer interrupts them to request he meet her other friends.

Charlie wants emotional connection. She doesn't want Lucifer to come in and fix all her problems, she just needs a little help. She wants his support. She invited him to the hotel so she could show him what she was working on and how much things have improved.

And let's be honest here, Lucifer went to the hotel for purely selfish reasons.

He didn't go to listen to Charlie's pitch or even consider helping with it. He already said no about setting up a meeting with Heaven and he went into the hotel already believing it wouldn't work, with no intention of keeping an open mind.

He missed Charlie and went there only to see her, which isn't altogether bad! He missed his daughter. That's fine. But by all accounts it was a selfish decision that he made purely for himself. It was to benefit him, not her.

And I think, on some level, Charlie expected that.

So when Alastor swoops in saying all the right words, knowing exactly what Charlie wants (because he's been paying attention), knowing that she doesn't need material items but emotional connection, you know, I can't blame her for looking the way she did, and I'm not surprised it sent Lucifer head-first into a whirlpool of insecurity.

Lucifer went wrong by trying to "buy" (for lack of better term) his way back into Charlie's good graces. I don't think he meant for it to come off like that, but the whole basis of his "i'm a better dad than Alastor" argument is "look at all the things I can get for you," "look at all the ways you can benefit from my status" and "we're blood-related."

Whereas Alastor's was "here's all the things I've done to help and support you," "look at the times I've been reliable" and "you've already made a found family here, you don't need a biological one."

I'm sorry, but going by the song? Yeah, Alastor kind of beat Lucifer in the dad category.

Doesn't mean he's an actual, loving, and supportive father figure to Charlie LMAO, but by all accounts, he's checked the boxes.

[agirlwithglam]

How do I stop comparing myself to others and how can I feel fulfilled on my own without needing anyone else's validation?

hiii<3 i feel what you're going through, trust me i do. here are some of my tips that specifically worked for me + at the end i'll include some more recommended things to read/ watch.

how to stop comparing & feel fulfilled without needing anyone else's validation

how to stop comparing yourself:

start focussing and thinking about yourself more. lol ok i realise that may sound like "become self absorbed" but i suppose, to some extent, that is what im saying. you're becoming too interested in others' life around you if you find yourself comparing. its time to focus on you and up levelling yourself to the best version possible.

comparison = wanting their life style, yes? so when you find yourself comparing to others in your life, realise that its because you envy something that they have. maybe its money, popularity, prettiness, intelligence, etc. so its like a signal in your brain which is telling you: "i want this. but i dont have it." so now what can you do, work hard to get it.

focus on what you have. i read a quote once (i think its by Oprah Winfrey) and it goes: "if you focus on what you don't have, you'll always have less. but if you focus on what you do have, you'll always have more." instead of looking at other's lives and thinking "i dont have this, i dont have that", look at your own life and think "i have this, i have that."

feeling fulfilled without needing anyone else's validation:

self love. self love. SELF LOVE. self love will ALWAYS be the answer to this. learn to LOVE yourself. and if you dont, ask why!! i have a whole guide on how to develop self love HERE. Stop looking for love in others, GIVE YOURSELF THE LOVE FIRST!!

It’s you over them. Always. Always always always. Always choose you over them. If they want you to do something but you don’t, then you say “no. I will not do that” it’s scary? Oh boohoohoo, suck it up. Because if you are constantly doing stuff that others ask you to just for the sake of pleasing them, you are disrespecting yourself in the worst way. You are basically saying that what they want is more important than what i want and need. Ew. Don’t do that.

extra resources:

a guide to develop self love & confidence (by me)

vanilla's opinion🍰 edition 1: dealing with hate & not caring about what others think. (by me)

ways to stay unbothered (by @pastel-charm-14)

Self validation (by @prettieinpink )

Tam Kaur's youtube channel

Thewizardliz youtube channel