#how to throw a proper pity party

[confused-spood]

Where else am I gonna rant if not to a group of random strangers that barely know me, right? So ofc I'm gonna rant here cuz these people have no idea who tf I am.

....turns out I have no words to explain how I'm feeling right now so I offer this emoji instead: 😔

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (V)

In a rather unlucky turn of events, you find yourself kidnapped for being in the wrong place during a gang war. Worry not, your yakuza boyfriend is at your service. Yet another bloody reason not to mess with him.

Content: female reader, organized crime, violence, gore, obsessive behavior

[Part 4] | [Yakuza Masterlist]

"Damn it!"

The scarred man throws another tile into the pile, clicking his tongue.

"I gotta say, you're pretty good for a foreigner." A second man with an eyepatch remarks, carefully inspecting his set before retrieving a tile of his own. "Pung."

You take another greedy sip of the cheap sake and slam the little cup back on the table.

"Kind of inevitable to learn mahjong when your only friends in this country are yakuza." You look up towards your captor with a frown. "You guys ever heard of board games or something?"

"Try to explain new rules to this dumbass!" A third man angrily pours himself another glass, pointing towards the first. "Fuck, I could iron clothes on that smooth brain of yours!"

"Fuck off, you're not any better." The scarred man continues his turn with furrowed brows. 

"If I were you I'd keep quiet about being pals with the yakuza. They'll question you, too, after the office guy. Don't make it worse." The man wearing an eyepatch mentions in a lowered voice. The table suddenly goes quiet.

"When is he coming out?" You ask hesitantly, bile pooling in your mouth. You already suspect the answer.

"He's not. Bodies are discarded through the back entrance." He pats the ash off and takes another drag off his cigarette. 

You swallow. 

Being involved with the Triad was not part of your new year resolutions, yet here you are about to be interrogated by the local Chinese syndicate. At least the lackeys have taken pity on you, a poor civilian caught in the middle of their rivalry. Hence the fake sense of normalcy as you chitchat at the mahjong table with a cup of sake to ease your wrecked nerves. 

"I'm guessing they won't be as friendly back there." You nod towards the door, where they took your work superior several hours ago. 

"No." 

That's all you get and you can only smile bitterly. Huh. You wonder if this is how Daitou's victims feel, helplessly waiting for whatever is brought upon them. Having to watch him unwrap his tool belt, stuffed with rusty old tools littered in blotches of dried up blood. Pondering his questions while he eyes the row delectably, hovering his hand over the potential ways to loosen up the tongue.

Would they torture you, too? Hopefully not. It should be rather obvious you're just a mere civilian. Then again, if your work superior mentioned anything about you being Daitou's girlfriend...He's never told you anything downright incriminating, but it'll be hard to convince these fellows that you truly are clueless.

Maybe they'll let you go if you offer your finger as a token of peace. Your forehead wrinkles at the thought. Isn't it more of a Japanese custom anyways? And if they say yes, then what? Do they provide you with the required utensils or are you expected to improvise on the spot?

You remember one of Daitou's seniors describing the process in great detail during the Christmas party. You had asked him about it, purely out of curiosity, and he certainly delivered almost more than your stomach was able to handle (Daitou scolded him later for telling you too much). You take the tatami mat and preferably wrap it in cloth, to soak up the blood. Any sharp blade will do, but traditionally you'd be offered a proper tantō that can easily slice through the bone. Obviously you want to cut as little as possible, so you still have some functionality remaining. Right above the joint. You must put all of your body weight into the thrust, otherwise the cut won't be clean and it turns into a mess. 

Hell. You wipe the cold beads of sweat that have formed on your face. You can barely chop an onion. Maybe one of the gangsters has enough experience and goodwill to offer to do it for you. Then you only have to clench your teeth and prepare for the blow. It can't be that bad. Surely the shock will be too great, and your brain won't even register it. Before you know it, they'll dip your hand in ice and rush you to someone fit to perform the aftercare. Yeah. That should to the trick. 

"Hey, foreigner. It's your turn."

"Leave her be, can't you see she's pale?"

You glance up and notice the men looking at you expectantly. They've already showed you plenty of kindness from the moment they shoved you in that black van with the rest of the office workers. Perhaps you can rely on them one final time. You suddenly bow, head pressing against the table. They're somewhat startled by your gesture. 

"I'm deeply sorry to ask, but might any of you be knowledgeable in blades?"

"H-huh? What for?"

You ceremoniously slam your hand onto the table, rattling the mahjong tiles. You struggle to let the words out, but try to maintain a straight face, picturing Shozo Hirono's cool attitude when he performed the deed himself in Battles without Honor and Humanity. 

"Would your Boss be satisfied with a yubitsume? I cannot offer anything else of use."

You feel a harsh hand smack against the back of your neck and you cough, taken out of your focus.

"Dumbass! What the hell are you talking about? Why would our Boss need the finger of a civilian, and a woman on top of that? 笨人!" The man with an eyepatch is red and flustered as he scolds you. The other two are holding back their snickers, amused by the scene.

"Let her! I have a knife on me right now." The scarred man comments with a grin. "Whaddaya say, kid? Or have you changed your mind already?"

"A man never goes back on his word." You bark and straighten your back, crossing your arms imposingly. 

The eyepatch man smacks you again and the other two begin clapping, terribly entertained by your tomfoolery. 

The spectacle doesn't last long. Within seconds, you jump out of your seat at the sound of rapid gunshots and scattered, erratic shouts.

Daitou bows before his Seniors and mumbles a polite, monotonous greeting. It's highly unusual to have the Lieutenants gathered at the office like this. Kazuya is fidgeting in his seat, Boss is away on a trip. What else could require everyone's immediate attendance? He makes his way to the blonde man and drops himself on the sofa, awaiting the details. 

"Wakasugi has been taken."

A chaotic murmur ensues. 

"He's been making offers for a building in a neutral area. That's where the Chinese sell their drugs and they claim it to be their turf. I hear some of our newbies got caught dealing that shit as well. Boss has been on their throats for some time now and this is their way to say fuck you."

Ah. More gang rivalry drama. Daitou presses his lips together, trying his best to hold back a yawn threatening to escape his mouth. Hopefully they'll leave him out of it, he has a date planned with you and he'd rather not show up reeking of rotten flesh. 

If you get kidnapped, think of yourself as already dead. The Yakuza doesn't negotiate. They just get their revenge tenfold. Unless it's someone important, like the Boss himself, the honorable way is to die without betraying your Family. 

"Just put a few bullets in them. Should teach them a lesson." He says while stretching. 

"Yeah, we're sending Oota and his men to deal with it. Just be on the lookout." One of the Seniors responds. 

"Still, the fucking guts on them. To show up at the office, right before our eyes-" Another man cries out, frustration in his voice.

"What did you say?" 

Kazuya flinches. He knows where this is going and he glares at the outraged yakuza, trying to silence him. Sadly he doesn't take the hint.

"Right? They just waltzed in, shot some of our guys and took Wakasugi and whoever was nearby. Heh, what are they gonna do with a bunch of office assistants? Extra weight to carry to the dump."

"Enough!" Kazuya's exasperated yell causes everyone to quiet down.

There are several confused looks being exchanged before everyone's eyes eventually rest on Daitou, now staring ahead motionless. Didn't his girlfriend work at that office? The Senior giving out the initial order has realized the mistake. He quickly clears his throat and is about to speak, but Daitou abruptly stands up and heads for the door.

"Oi! I said we're leaving it to Oota. This isn't your job." 

He tries to repeat his words with confidence, but his voice falters towards the end when faced with Daitou's massive frame. Particularly the barrel that's now pressing into his forehead.

"Mind your fucking business or I'll kill you right here." Daitou threatens.

"D-don't think Boss will help you out of this one, brat. If you go, you're disobeying your Senior."

The tall yakuza smirks mockingly. 

"See if you can run for Boss with your skull split open, bitch."

Kazuya slaps the gun aside and steps between the men.

"Just let him go. I'll take responsibility." He pleads, his friend already slamming the door behind him. 

Once the aggressor has left, everyone exhales discreetly in relief.

"He'll get us in trouble with the cops." The Senior retorts to the blonde in a berating tone.

"What else do you suggest? You know there's no way around it if he's pissed."

No one replies to what seems to be an universally agreed upon truth.

He blows out the smoke and crushes the cigarette under his foot. Fuck. He needs to calm down. They most likely haven't killed you, but if they laid a single hand on you...He's blacking out again. Whatever blinding rage possessed him back in his youth, when his Boss got wounded, would now pale in comparison. His ears are ringing and his vision is foggy. He can't even recall how he made it to their building. Or how he got past the guards. Although that one's easy to figure out, judging from their twisted throats. 

He checks his rounds one final time and kicks the heavy metal door open. Only about a dozen of them, but no sign of you yet. Should take a minute. It is time for him to pay his respects. 

"What the fuck was that?" the scarred man swiftly takes out his weapon and knocks the stool over with his foot.

If it is who you think it is...Your face twists in fear.

"Listen, you've been nice to me so I don't want to see you dead. Could you...could you leave, please? It might be someone I know and I promise you there's no point in fighting back."

The noticeable quiver in your speech might lead one to believe you're awaiting your executioner, not your savior and boyfriend. But you've seen Daitou angry and the ordeal flooded the very marrow of your bones with terror. Naturally he could never be upset at his darling for any reason, ever. Whoever poses a threat to you, however, can't say the same thing. You remember trying to pull him back from a random drunk that had groped you during an outing, and he tightly gripped your jaw with a bloodied hand and nearly ordered you in a ragged growl: "Hey. I said I'll be done in a moment. Be a good girl and close your eyes." 

Thus, from experience, you know he'd never listen to your pleas. Maybe if he was lucid enough, but not in this manic state. The man wearing an eyepatch scans your expression attentively. Your worry is genuine and the other room is gradually becoming quieter, but not in a way that'd inspire him confidence. He certainly doesn't feel like dying today and there's nothing honorable about throwing yourself into a senseless battle. He nods at the other two men and he asks you one last time if you'll be fine by yourself, to which you shake your head vehemently. Please go away already. 

The final obstacle crumbles under Daitou's weight and you fiddle with your glass, alone, at the mahjong table. He seems to be taken aback, and once he confirms you're not in any pain or discomfort, his demeanor switches within an instant. 

"Where's everyone?"

"They ran away."

"Just like that? And left you here?" He stares at you, baffled.

"Maybe there's some still in the back. These ones left because I asked them to."

He approaches you, still bewildered and confused. He looks like a lost dog.

"What? They were nice to me and I didn't want you to kill them. You never listen when I tell you to stop." You huff, pouting and folding your arms.

"Sorry. I got a little bit anxious." He kneels before you and extends a hand apologetically. "Friends again?"

"Wash your hands at least, I don't want to know what organ remains you have stuck through your fingers."

He chuckles and wipes the palm against his shirt. You follow his movements and notice the bullet wounds near the ribcage. This madman. You speedily bend to his level and remove his jacket to inspect the injuries.

"Christ. Take off your shirt and let's at least stop the bleeding before we leave. How the hell can you still stand with all these holes in you?"

Daitou unbuttons his shirt obediently and you try to wrap it around his abdomen. You notice the thick, wide scar crossing his stomach, presently smeared with blood. Either his or someone else's. 

"Now that I think about it, how did you get this scar? From a gang fight as well?"

"Oh no, I got this in prison. I was supposed to serve many more years, but one of the Seniors rang and said Boss needs me for something. They were in talks with the police chief to maybe bribe my way out. 

But I felt terrible knowing that Boss would be wasting money on my mistakes. At the time the place was overcrowded, so I figured they'd let me out for medical emergencies. So I cut my stomach open and they counted it as a suicide attempt." He responds with a proud grin. 

You grimace a little at the mental image. 

The cloth has been tightly, albeit clumsily secured around his gashes and you both get up. It occurs to you that throughout this mess you haven't feared for your life once. It feels like Daitou is always there to get you out of trouble. Despite his unorthodox methods.

You gaze up at him and notice the prosthetic eye has rolled inwards, so you adjust it slightly with your finger. He follows your romantic gesture with a quick peck on the lips. 

"You'll get yourself killed one day." You whine, tired.

"And leave you alone? Never. You're stuck with me for life."

He flashes you a wide smile and pats your head.

"Can we still go on that date?" The yakuza suddenly remembers, guiding you as you zigzag your way among fresh corpses.

So he hasn't forgotten. A faint blush dusts your cheeks.

"Sure, but I'd like to have a bath first."

"Then let's have one together." He suggests cheerfully, completely unbothered by whatever just happened.  

Tags: @yandere-city2 @lokiofasgard12 @zeniiis @lucienbarkbark @channelinglament @your-next-daydream @bath1lda @murder-hobo @zanzie

[bluemusickid]

Private Chef! Joel thots

ok so I've had this idea lingering for a while now, and the SAG outfit has just FUELLEDDD more of my thots!!!

Side note: (He has never looked sexier, how dare he age this well; how am I supposed to go on with my life; this is absolutely not fair)

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!plus size! reader

Warnings: smut, mentions of sex, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller, 18+ only, minors DNI

Sharing a smallish drabble/thotty abstract, if you will:

Ok, so maybe Joel has joined your family as your private chef. After all, your parents are SUPER rich, so they might as well look and feel the part.

You had to admit, he was worth every penny your mother was paying him. Not to mention he was easy going on the eyes, which made your mother glad; she would parade him around her lavish parties to the "cougars"/bored rich housewives, something which made your eyes roll.

Little did they know that the ever so charming Joel was a FREAK with a capital "F" in the sack.

You honestly don't even remember how it happened. A few conversations here and there, he had offered to teach you how to cook and bake; and those lessons were often plagued by thoughts of him bending you over and having his way with you, leaving you throbbing and wanting. If you didn't know any better, you could tell that it was affecting him too. His voice got huskier, eyes darkening every time he looked your way. It was a game of chicken, almost, how long either of you could keep the distance before the inevitable damn bursting.

You had once gone to "ask" him "a cooking doubt", and saw quite a sight indeed. Gone was the prim and proper Joel, with his neatly ironed and clean apron and immaculate dress shirts. His curly hair was mussed up, his shirt slightly untucked and his top buttons undone; he seemed to be engrossed in a video, hie eyebrows scrunched together as his fingers kneaded some dough, prepping for tomorrow's party. It was honestly like porn, the way his strong arms kneaded the dough, his thick fingers making you nearly drool. It took all your strength to walk away from there before you embarrassed yourself and begged him to throw you to the ground and pound you into the ground, no matter how desperate that sounded.

And it had happened finally. Another one of your parents' shindigs, and you found yourself bored out of your mind, only half listening to one of your mom's friend's son, whose one semester in London had "like, totally changed his life." Excusing yourself, you made your way to the kitchen, topping off your drink.

You saw him there, again, making small talk with Angela, one of your mom's friends who just wouldn't take a hint. You'd never seen Joel this tense and yet Angela seemed oblivious, throwing herself at him, her screeching laugh loud enough to wake the dead.

You took pity on the man and made up an excuse on his behalf, beckoning him to join you, picking up a few wedges of limes on the way, an idea forming in your mind. He bid Angela goodbye, hurriedly following you before she engaged any further.

"...Whyyy are we going to your room?" He asked bewildered, hesistant as he stood at the threshold.

You shrugged, "figured you could use a proper drink, not the shit downstairs." Taking out two shotglasses, you handed him a rather large shot of Hendricks, your drink of choice to get "classy-drunk".

You toast, downing the smooth liquid as it left a slight burn. Wincing, you pour another, his eyes widening at the pour.

"I'm technically on duty."

"And i'm technically meant to like all the guys my mom has shown me, but life doesn't work that way, does it?" You quipped, clearly goading him.

One shot turned to two. Two to four. The party was long forgotten, the both of you pleasantly tipsy and unguarded. For the first time, it felt like Joel was opening up to you.

"If I didn't know any better, i'd say you were planning on getting me drunk, sweetheart." He drawled.

You smirked. Making your way towards him, you poured another shot, promising him it that it was the last one, and that he could go back to his job. He chuckled, knowing that he would a tough time walking to the kitchen, let alone serving the guests. Lucky that the crew took over for the rest of the night, huh?

Wincing, Joel blindly searched for the wedge of lime to soothe the burn. Opening his eyes, he saw your cheeky grin as you held the lime between your lips, challenging him to take the next step.

He nearly growled as he shuffled closer, your faces mere inches from one another. His fingers ghosted over your lips as he inched closer, his lips tasting the juice of the lime. Plucking the wedge from your lips, his mouth was on yours, urging you to open up for him. You groaned, tasting the citrusy hints of the gin along with the slight tang of the lime, your tongues weaving an intricate dance.

While the party downstairs was loud and had taken a rather raucous turn, up in your room, the only noise you could hear was the sound of harsh grunts and panting breaths.

When your mom had first hired Joel, you didn't understand exactly why she did so, because the chef you'd had earlier was perfectly fine. Now, you couldn't thank her enough for hiring him.

Joel had you pinned to your bedroom door, as he ate you out enthusiastically. Pulling your thigh on his shoulder, he doubled down on his efforts to get you to come undone. Running your fingers through his beautiful curls, you tugged on them as his wonderful tongue worked its magic on your swollen nub. He hummed, circling his finger around your center, urging you on.

Pulling your other leg on his shoulder, he moved to pick you up. You were uncertain about this, but he was insistant, picking you up like you weighed nothing at all. He didn't stop his ministrations as he dropped you on her bed, continuing his amorous assault.

This display of strength had you clenching and reaching your end in no time, as you moaned loudly, yanking on his curls to ground yourself.

"Oh baby, keep doing that, don't stop." He moaned, as he made his way up your body, leaving small kisses and nips along your thighs, your belly. He reached your breasts, taking a swollen nub in his mouth and sucking enthusiastically.

Looking down, you saw one of the most erotic sights ever. Joel worshipping you, his curls a wild mess, his pristine white shirt damp with your release and with a few buttons undone, coming untucked out of his tight black pants.

You groaned. You needed him so badly it practically hurt. Reaching down, you palmed him through his pants, as he thrust himself into your wandering hands.

Pulling his erect length out of his pants, you panted as you worked him over, stroking him as he moved his hips in tandem with your hands. His harsh breaths as he groaned and grunted through gritted teeth turned you on like nothing else.

"I'm close, sweetheart." He managed to blurt out, as you increased the speed of your strokes, tongue moving along his already sensitive head. He pulled his length from your grasp as he worked himself to his climax, yelling out and cursing as he came all over your breasts.

You were mildly disappointed that he held back from fucking you; hell, you were sure he was going to finally take that step and put you through the mattress.

"Joel, I need you. Please." You begged, the need to feel him fill you up dangerously high. You sounded pathetic, sure, but you were beyond caring at this point.

Joel smirked, catching his breath.

"I have to get back sweetheart. Your mom would kill me if she didn't see me in the kitchen."

You couldn't hide your frown as you watched him neaten up, running a hair through his curls. Joel leaving you high and dry was not how you saw your plan panning out. He was about to leave as he turned back, made his way to you, holding your chin between his fingers.

"But I promise you, this isn't over. Not by a long shot." He breathed against your lips, leaving a small peck as he left, leaving you weak and wanting for more.

Silently seething, you began to plot your next steps. Joel Miller wouldn't know what hit him.

Oh no i don't like it i don't think this is my best work but omg it's out there *runs and hides in a corner*

Will there be a part 2?? That's a great question. Honestly i think i could've done better so maybe i have a redemption arc as well lolol, who knows atp

[doodlegirl1998]

hey have you ever made a post about what changes you would make to bnha to make the story more cohesive and less *gestures vaguely*

Hi @trulyisawesome 👋,

Great question! Please be aware that there's some spoilers below and that some of what I have to say may be an unpopular opinion.

It is also rather disjointed as this became a bit of a rant / brainstorm.

So here's a list of what changes I would make to MHA.

Give Bakugou proper consequences - such as having Aizawa expel him right away as soon as he makes to attack Midoriya. It would highlight the message straight away that bullies and abusers can't be heroes as well as the fact that power isn't everything.

Change Izuku's hero name to Dekiru - not Deku. I know some people like the reclaimation of this insult but I'm not one of them. Having Bakugou's insulting nickname meaning 'worthless' be instead changed to Dekiru meaning 'you can do it' fits more with Izuku's character. How he is an underdog who despite the odds never stopped trying with his dream.

Make Shigaraki Tomura the 'rival' as well as the 'villain' of the story. Think about it. What are rivals in these Shonens meant to do? To challenge the Protagonist and inspire them to become stronger. Bakugou in canon just tears Midoriya down relentlessly calling him "Deku" and calling the OFA holders "worthless nobodies" there's nothing inspiring about that. However - Shigaraki. He definitely could challenge Midoriya (both in views and power) and inspire him to become stronger. He's also shown to think of Midoriya constantly (separate to AFO's influence which is huge) so Midoriya could easily challenge (both views wise and in terms of power) and inspire him. Plus more interactions between these two would have done them wonders.

I would have Midoriya be the one to be kidnapped by the League rather than Bakugou. With Shiggy constantly thinking of him I believed this would happen, that Shig would try and fail to recruit Midoriya upon finding out he's a 'late bloomer'. It would also make a contrast between that moment and Izuku trying to save Shigaraki later because at that point they've both reached out to each other. And the whole narrative of 'saving Shigaraki' feels less forced.

Build up Shigaraki either as the main villain taking up AFO's villianous legacy like how Izuku is taking AM's heroic legacy or build up his redeemability by having him question what he was taught by his 'Sensei.' Either of these routes would be better than the inner child that is crying B.S. It neatly sidesteps all of the fact that Shigaraki canonically does not feel remorse or wish to change for any of deaths he caused. It is poor writing to try to redeem a character by throwing a pity party for them because they have suffered rather than addressing 'Do they want to be saved? Do they want to do better and change?' With Shigaraki, he wants to be saved from All for One but does he want to change or feel regret? Canonically, no. He uses Nomu's with no guilt. He kills people with no guilt. All he wants is destruction.

Don't redeem Endeavor - here's the thing. When Hori went down this route several things went wrong. Shoto lost his relevance as a main character and it became 'the Endeavor Show.' So instead, I would explore Shoto's POV growing separate from his Dad as well as reconnecting with both his siblings and his mum again as well as exploring their autonomous POV's. In canon, Hori scapegoated both Dabi and Rei to shift blame off of him which was a mess and muddles the messaging. Endeavor is meant to the symbol of the corrupt heroics 'redeeming him' undermines that.

Make Stain have a point. A controversial opinion but Stain in theory does have a point because there corrupt heroes (*cough* Endeavor *cough*) however the heroes Stain is shown to hurt do seem to be those he should like I.e Tensei Iida (who in the Spin Off Vigilantes is shown to be a good hero.) Give Stain targets that make sense I.e make a hero who is being corrupt, doing bad and being bad and have Stain hurt them. At the moment he just appears to hunt those that aren't All Might and dont emulate him.

Show Heroes / The Hero commission being corrupt more. Sure we have 'the optimist and murderer' Hawks as an example, Nagant who is in a few chapters but this corruption is meant to be a systemic issue. How the HPSC ruled and how the heroes have to bow to them is never fully explored I hate that (I actually wouldn't mind these guys being the actual bad guys of the series and the villians being the ones speaking out against them.)

I would establish Nagant as a character earlier. I would have Izuku be a fan of hers and I would have Hawks be mentored by her to support her place in the story and the impact of what happens to her by showing established characters effected by her and care for her. Since canonically it feels like Hori dropped her in the story out of nowhere.

Don't make Geten a Himura or reveal this earlier. Again. What was the point of this revelation? I could have seen this and been more open to it if it were revealed in the MVA arc. I would either have Geten rant maniacally about the purity and strength of the Himura Ice perhaps to parallel Endeavor's lust for power while Dabi stares at him shocked or not go down this route at all. Since now, it feels out of place and shoe horned in out of nowhere. And the incest stuff... I get that this sort of thing would happen in a world of quirks but what does it add? Rei is now canonically a product of incest - and what does that do? Narratively wise it nothing at all except give Rei's situation a whole other layer of ICK.

I would not give Dabi ice. What was the point of that revealation? His whole suffering comes down to the fact that he wasn't born perfect. That through Endeavor's quirk marriage he was born with a quirk that didn't suit his body and constantly harmed himself with his fire. Yet even so Touya used and continued to train his fire because Endeavor built up his sense of self as only his successor / how good he was with his fire then tore that away. Giving Dabi ice as a reaction to his near death state does what narratively? Shows Endeavor should have kept hurting / training Dabi when his quirk starts to hurt him? The whole point of Dabi's story should have been that he shouldn't have to be born "perfect" to be worthy of love yet the narrative robs him of that.

I would also either erase Dabi's kill count entirely or I would have it so that he accidentally killed those in the orphanage with his escape. And counted them in his 30 kills. This move I feel like would make him more sympathetic. It feels like Hori gave Dabi a kill count of random civilians to undermine him / his point against Endeav. Having him blame himself for the deaths of those in the orphanage (and them be a majority of his 30 kills) helps his redeemability because it proves despite his words that he still feels things and is in fact emotionally repressing things due to trauma.

Build up Toga Himiko as a sympathetic villian from the get go instead of a "Blood Yandere" or just make her a full irredeemable villian. With Toga from the start I would give her internal conflict about killing others, give her guilt about taking lives to feed her addiction to blood, make her try not to take lives /her killings accidental before she loses more and more of herself to the thirst for blood which then Ochaco could 'save' her from by reminding her what she wants is genuine connection/ help. Or I'd have her be a full unrepentant villian that needs to be stopped.

Explore the full consequences of Twice's death on the League and proper rammifications for Hawks. Or Don't kill Twice - redeem him instead. I like Twice, I feel like he's one of the best and most sympathetic villains Hori has ever written. Therefore I am miffed that canonically the League's feelings (outside Toga's) haven't been explored on Twice's death when they all, even Shig and Dabi, seemed to be fond of him at least. I am also annoyed that Hawks isn't even looked down on for this decision and didn't lose anything. No one is sideyeing him for deliberately stabbing a mentally ill man in the back? He gets his wings back despite Dabi burning them off? Or instead of killing Twice I'd have him be captured by Hawks instead and receive therapy.

Explore the process of the creation of an intelligent Nomu. I would either make Shirakumo 'alive' somehow being making Kurogiri an alter of him which the Doctor tortured out of him then brainwashed. OR I would explore Kurogiri's internal thoughts realising that he is a sentient corpse and exploring a full identity crisis for him, still wanting to be a hero and reconnect with his old friends but also wishing to save Shigaraki from AFO. That would be more powerful than what we got.

Give Nedzu, Momo and all the intelligent characters back their brains. Hori doesn't write intelligent characters well, everyone does what he wants them to do for the sake of plot. I would have them tackle the problem and put their characters first when they think things through and make the plot bend to them rather than vice versa.

Make AFO a proper threatening villain and a consistent threat or replace him as the main big bad. - Not sure how to elaborate but some of AFO's decisions in the recent arcs have been laughably stupid to the point of extreme annoyance. So I would either write him off after Kamino or keep him a consistent threat.

I would also explore Dr Giraki / Ujiko as a big bad alongside AFO and the horror of the Nomu condition. These are puppeteered corpses! People's dead bodies! And yet the heroes even upon knowing this are still kicking them around like volleyballs. There's no attempt to save the High ends even after realising Kurogiri's condition. So I would change that. I would have the heroes want to treat these creatures with respect. And only kill as a last resort.

Make Nedzu an actual character. Nedzu has a very interesting premise, a creature, who hates humans, with a very high IQ in charge of a school. Why is this? Because Hori said so in canon. I would actually explore why - does he actually want control and influence over how some of the most powerful heroes will turn out like - I think yes. So I would explore his morally grey tendencies and flesh him out.

Allow all the 1A girls to be both useful and intelligent. Momo especially has an OP quirk, an OP intelligent stat yet Hori never allows her to be as useful or intelligent as she should be. Jiro, Hagakure and Froppy also have OP quirks - yet they are under utilised and unexplored in what capabilities they could do.

Make Aizawa less of a bad teacher and more of a hardass with a heart of gold. (This will be an unpopular opinion.) I am firm in the belief that Aizawa's methods are deeply flawed and canonically he is not a good homeroom teacher at all. I would remove his 'expulsion record' (doing that would literally ruin lives even with the retcon of it only being on paper because that black mark would stay there.) I would change it instead so he moves the classes he deems to have no potential to Gen Ed so that there is no black mark nonsense and the students with potential could earn their way back into the course via the sports festival. I would change the "logical ruse" nonsense which would only breed trust issues in his students IRL to him being straight forward with the goals but having the activities have secret targets too (like the whole concept of hero points in the entrance exam.) I would also erase him falling asleep all the time because that doesn't support the notion that he cares about these kids. These changes would lead to him being a better teacher and would make more sense canonically as his teaching methods are meant to come from his trauma around Oboro's death.

I would either erase Aizawa's mentorship with Shinsou entirely or I would have Shinsou get further into the sports festival and earn his way into 1A that way. Canonically we see Eraser help and mentor Shinsou more than his own students (even the ones who actually need help!) So I would change this by removing the mentorship entirely or having Shinsou join 1A having earnt a spot via the sports festival and having Aizawa help him catch up with everyone else.

Shinsou. I would have him actually be treated as a villain in his backstory. I know we are all used to fanon Shinsou but canon Shinsou isn't abused. Isn't even really bullied bar from a rather justified wariness of 'that quirk is great for a hero. Just don't use it on me, ok?' Which doesn't inspire sympathy if anything it makes you wonder if Shinsou had believed he could coast into the hero course on his powerful quirk and is bitter that he couldn't do that. So I would have him be literally called a villain (literally have his quirks similarities to that of the villain Dictator be called out), I would also have him train outside his quirk to make him more sympathetic. Izuku did with his analysis. Shinsou canonically didn't train at all.

Tone down or Erase Mineta's perversions. I get this is a shonen so there is nearly always a character like this however with Mineta's 'comedy' Hori always goes too far and makes him appear like a budding sexual predator (thankfully he seems to be growing out of this in the later arcs but still.) I'd turn it into him trying and failing to flirt rather than groping people.

Have Midnight only make saucy comments to her peers - this I don't feel like needs further elaboration but the fact that Midnight had said she was turned on by things the students did (even though it's a persona) felt ick to me especially as this character is meant to be a teacher. I would explore her deeper as a character and juxapose her off duty 'more reserved' character vs the hero 'saucy' persona. And have her warn the girls about sexualisation in the hero industry 'women need to use their bodies / sex appeal to get ahead.' Which this new generation of heroes could change that.

I would either not kill Midnight at all or give her a heroic and impactful death. I hated how Midnight died off screen by a meaningless mook, only to be mentioned once again by Mic for Aizawa to shut him up about it. I hated how from here her relevance in the teacher OG friendship group essentially ended as Hori shifted focus hard to KurOboro. I hated how the impact of her death on the students that found her wasn't explored. Midnight died grievously injured and on her knees, Hori didn't bother to even give her a death scene. I would either not kill her at all or have her sacrifice herself heroically to save her students and fully explore the impact of this on everyone.

Explore the UA teachers / how they teach outside of Aizawa and All Might. The series is meant to be 'my hero academia' - So where is the academia? I would have some of the other teachers teaching styles explored as well as the students learning things that come in useful for hero work other than fighting. I.e first aid, villain psychology, quirkless hand to hand fights - all things that would come in useful as a hero other than being good with their quirks. I would also explore these teachers more as characters because I'd love to know more about Vlad King, Mic, Midnight, Thirteen, Ectoplasm and Nedzu.

I would have Endeavor always remain second to All Might. Endeavor in my opinion never deserved the number one spot, he instead deserved to fall from grace after being outed as an abuser. I would have All Might after losing OFA go full 'Iron Man Might' and remind Izuku that he showed Toshi how great of a hero he was without a quirk so Toshi is now taking inspiration from him and showing the whole of Japan how power isn't just from Quirks. It would show AM and Izuku's mentorship and the bond between these characters nicely.

I would either erase Nighteye from the story entirely or change his personality entirely and have him bond with Izuku over being an AM fan too. This I'm not sure if it needs explanation but Nighteye being a bad friend to AM, a bad mentor to Izuku wasn't needed. Aside from his role in Mirio's life and saving Eri he wasn't needed in general- especially not to bring down Izuku's already critically low self esteem.

Eri is too OP - it's narrative breaking. If she can rewind things why hasn't she rewound All Might back to his prime health? Why hasn't she given Aizawa back his eye and leg? Why has Eri only gave Mirio back his quirk? Can she rewind the dead? These are all questions Hori has left dangling because he couldn't be bothered to think of them before he thoughtlessly slotted her into the narrative. I would give her hard limits to her Rewind (such as only being able to rewind a few years or one part of the body at a time) and the drug that Overhaul uses be her power plus trigger to enhance it.

I would leave Mirio quirkless and have him be an awesome hero without Permeation. It would do wonders for the narrative if after losing his quirk Mirio kept working toward being a hero anyway. It would be interesting for both Midoriya and Aoyama to react to this. And for Mirio to have a big brother relationship with Midoriya.

I would give Izuku a proper support group. (I feel like this will be an unpopular opinion.) Class 1A should have been perfect for this role however Hori having them unite with Bakugou against Izuku in the 1A vs Izuku mess, Hori never bothering to develop 1A's friendships most people in 1A don't feel like Midoriya's friends. So I would change that and have them be more of a found family.

I would narratively foreshadow Yuuga as the UA traitor. Yuuga being formerly Quirkless and the UA traitor came out of nowhere. So I would foreshadow it by having him bond with Izuku over "being a late bloomer." I would explore his hesitancy to make friends through this too so Izuku and he would unknowingly bond over a shared Quirkless past. I would also have AFO explode him like he did with Nagant upon finding out Yuuga's treachery. I wouldn't kill Yuuga but this act would make the stakes much more personal for Izuku.

I would narratively develop Midoriya's family. We know so much of the Todoroki's yet so little of the Midoriya's it's criminal. So I would develop both Midoriya Hisashi and Midoriya Inko as people and show the impact of their parenting on Izu. Show Izuku calling his Dad 'overseas' . As well as drop hints about DFO (because I do like that theory but Hori hasn't built up to that well.)

I would tell the stories of the OFA holders instead of having them be plot devices. We know so little of the OFA holders, their motivations, their personalities it's criminal. So I would develop them and tell their stories of what it was like to hold OFA in their time as well as explore First as an actual character. What was it like for each of the holders in their time? Who were each of the holders to each other, all mentees and mentors or best friends, partners? Were any of the holders 'bad' or 'redeemed villains' it looks like everyone was all good which is a waste!!

I would give All Might a proper support group. Think about the people who know his OFA secret, Midoriya, Gran Torino, Nana, Nighteye, Nedzu, Detective Tsukauchi and Recovery Girl. Out of these people; Nana has tragically died in front of All Might, Midoriya is his successor and a child in need of his support and the other four (everyone else except Detective Tsukauchi) supports All Might poorly. (Especially Gran who AM is shown to be afraid of to the point of shaking!) Detective Tsukauchi is the only one who I think actually is shown supporting AM the most. So I would add more supportive characters to AM's circle (like Mic who is shown to be a very good, supportive friend and Inko who is Izuku's mum and is also shown to be a kind and supportive lady.)

I would keep the coherent clear problems in society such as Quirkless Discrimination and Mutant Discrimination shown throughout the story. Hori does a poor job with tackling his themes so I would show more how Quirkless (other than Izu and Aoyama are treated). I would also show Spinner taking offense when Dabi calls him "Lizard" as well as the Police chief taking offence when Shoto calls him a "Mutt." And have more instances like this.

I think this is all the ideas I have for now. Please let me know what you think.

[rip-quizilla]

The Boy is Mine (Hannah's Edition)

Thank you @carolmunson so much for coming up with this awesome prompt! I had a lot of fun writing this one :)

Click here to read the original prompt, here for the masterlist of everyone's different takes on the idea!

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Eddie's romantic night with Chrissy doesn't go as planned, so you do what any good neighbor would do and pull him out of his pity party.

Eddie was an idiot.

He had done everything he could think of to make tonight so romantic that Chrissy would finally see him as something more. See that he was worthy of a girl like her. That he could treat her right, the way a gentleman should. 

Up until now, their relationship had been casual; nothing was set in stone or exclusive. She was free to go on dates with whomever she wanted, they didn’t talk to each other at school or do boyfriend-girlfriend things. Eddie had been fine with that… until he wasn’t. 

He wanted Chrissy to know that he could treat her just as well as her country club boyfriends could. He could be romantic. He was worth more than making out in the back of his van and secret notes stuffed in lockers. 

Today was her birthday, so he’d pulled out all the stops- he’d cleaned the trailer, bought her flowers, made pasta with the fancy parmesan on top. He’d even baked her a birthday cake. Sure, it was funfetti cake mix from a box, but it was more work than Eddie usually went through for a cake. 

“Make yourself comfortable, food’s almost ready!” he gushed when Chrissy had first entered the trailer. She’d taken a seat on the couch, eyes wide as she looked around the kitchen and living room. The coffee table had been cleared of its usual magazines and ashtray, newly set with old yellowed doilies as placemats and silverware, worn porcelain plates with little powder-blue curly cues along the edges…

“Eddie,” Chrissy had said, bewildered. “What…what is all this?”

He’d barely heard her over the cacophony of sizzles and bubbles that surrounded him in the small galley kitchen. “I hope you like Italian,” he threw a smile over his shoulder as he stirred the bubbling tomato sauce on the stove. “It’s your birthday, I wanted to make you a proper dinner. Even baked you a cake!” Eddie smiled, but then widened his eyes in alarm when he remembered that he’d put the cake in the oven and forgotten to set a timer. How long had it been baking for? Eddie couldn’t remember. 

“Shit…” He hissed, yanking open the oven door as angry smoke plumed into the tiny trailer. Eddie waved an oven-mitted hand, frantically trying to clear a path for his vision to see if the cake was at least salvageable… which it wasn’t.

Chrissy sat frozen on the couch, hugging a time-tattered throw pillow to her stomach and toying anxiously with the fringe at its edges as she watched Eddie place a blackened tin of burnt cake on the stovetop. It was like watching a train wreck; Chrissy couldn’t look away, no matter how painful the scene before her got. 

“Eddie, it’s okay,” she said, voice overly soft and sweet, as if she were breaking bad news to a volatile toddler. “You don’t have to-”

“Wine!” Eddie interrupted, excitedly (desperately) remembering the wine he’d bought. He’d read somewhere that red wine paired well with spaghetti and meatballs, so he’d run to the nearest gas station he knew never carded and bought the best red wine he could afford- which was the only red wine at the gas station- but he thought the label looked pretty, so it must be good right?

"I ran out of, like, nice cups,” Eddie said, voice strained as he did a little hop to reach the matching plastic steins on the highest shelf. “Is this okay? My uncle used to be into fancy beer that was apparently too classy to drink from a can, so he got these things. Kinda makes you feel like you’re in an old-timey tavern when you drink out of ‘em, though, which is cool-"

“Eddie-”

Chrissy’s voice sounded strained, pitying- Eddie didn’t like that. It wasn’t how he wanted her to feel on her birthday. “I don’t drink wine much, so hopefully I got the right kind! I mean, wine is wine, right? Can’t be that bad-”

“Eddie!”

He froze. He turned to her, bottle in one hand and a stein in the other. His heart thumped out a warning in his chest. 

“Eddie… if I gave you any kind of false impression, I’m so sorry-”

Nope. He didn’t like where this was going.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, princess! I’m sorry I burned the cake, that was my bad- I forgot to set the timer, and-”

Chrissy winced at the pet name; he’d only used it a couple times before that, so Eddie had assumed she didn’t have a problem with it… liked it, even.

“When you asked me to come over, I didn’t realize it was…” She took a short deep breath, huffing out the exhale. “I didn’t realize you meant it as a date.”

“I know,” he replied. It was immediate, reassuring. “I know this isn’t what I usually do, and I’m sorry for that. You deserve more than… than secret makeouts after cheer practice, and lying in the back of my shitty old van.” Eddie smiled at her, hopeful. “I can do better than that, and I’m trying-”

“I don’t want better than that.” 

Eddie stopped, stunned. Chrissy winced again. “That came out… wrong. I… I mean, I do want something like that, maybe someday. But…”

Her words trailed off, lips retreating into each other as she bit them nervously, unsure of how to communicate what she meant. 

Eddie knew how though.

“...But you don’t want it with me.”

She looked up at him, eyes brimming with guilty regret. “Eddie, I’m so sorry. If I had known you felt this way-”

“No, don’t worry about it princess.” There was venom in the name now, a bitterness that rivaled the smell of burnt funfetti that still wafted around them. “No harm done. I understand.”

“I’m so sorry, Eddie-”

“Go home, Chrissy.” He turned his back to her, reaching for the knob on his stove to switch the burners off. “Seriously. It’s okay.”

The venom had left his voice; he’d channeled all of it into the word princess, and now all that was left was resignation. It wasn’t her fault for not liking him; he wasn’t even sure he’d ever liked her. He’d just known that if he could get a girl like her to like him, it might mean he was worth a damn. 

But she didn’t. So he wasn’t. Which wasn’t a surprise to him.

“Go home. Celebrate your birthday. It’s okay.”

And she did. She got in her car, brows pinched with painful sympathy, and drove back home. The spaghetti got cold and the cake was tossed in the trash, leaving Eddie with far too much pasta for himself, an unopened bottle of red, and a container of vanilla frosting. 

And then there was you.

Your trailer sat parallel to the Munsons’, a modest one-person camper on the opposite side of the dirt path the Forest Hills considered a road. You kept a plastic lawn chair and a rainbow beach umbrella in your front “yard” for days when the sun was warm enough to relax outside. Today was one of those evenings where the light was still bright enough for you to see your notebook, perfect for watching the sunset and sketching whatever caught your eye.

Today’s trailer park still-life didn’t disappoint. Your neighbor, Eddie, sat on the concrete stoop eating vanilla frosting- all by itself- with a spoon as he stared dejectedly at the horizon. Sad as the scene before you was, you loved the sketch that was taking form in your small spiral notebook of the forlorn metalhead. As if the picture couldn’t get any sadder, beside him sat an unopened bottle of cheap wine that you had every confidence he planned on drinking without a glass. Sure enough, you watched as your neighbor let out a heavy sigh, put down the frosting, and grabbed the bottle of wine. 

He started wrestling with the foil over the top of the bottle, sighing with relief this time when he finally removed the foil but groaning to himself when he saw the cork in the top. You couldn’t help but laugh when he whipped out a knife from his back pocket. 

“Please put that away,” you called over to him, closing your notebook and placing it on your seat as you stood up. “You’re going to hurt yourself!” 

Eddie glanced up, seemingly surprised you were there in the first place; he must not have even noticed you. You disappeared into your camper before he could say a word, reappearing a moment later with a wine key in hand. 

He made no move to stop you when you took the bottle, easily twisting the corkscrew into the soft stopper and leveraging it out in seconds. You smiled at the satisfying pop that echoed against the metal walls of the Munsons’ trailer. 

“Thanks.” Eddie said, accepting the wine from you with a nod. 

“You can thank me by promising you’re going to eat something more filling than frosting before you down that.” You nodded to the freshly opened bottle in his hand with an eyebrow raised.

Eddie stared back at you, his expression hard as he raised an eyebrow to meet yours. “I’ll be fine.”

Oh. You didn’t like the self-destructive undertones of that response. 

“Didn’t take you for a wine drinker.” you mused. “Let me see that label again?”

Eddie sighed, handing it to you begrudgingly. You recognized the label; it was the only cabernet you’d been able to afford in your early days of being legal drinking age. You’d never gone to college, choosing the starving artist life over classes you didn’t care about and student loans you’d be paying for over a decade. Technically, you still referred to yourself as a starving artist, but at least now you had a decent savings account and could afford a nice bordeaux now and again.

“Man, this stuff takes me back.” Eddle looked at you curiously, so you elaborated. “I used to get these constantly, it was the only wine I could afford to buy in my early twenties.”

“That can’t have been too long ago.” Eddie replied, a bit of a smile dancing on his lips. You smirked, handing him the bottle back. 

“It wasn’t,” you said wryly, “but it wasn’t yesterday either.” 

Eddie chuckled, taking a swig of the wine before immediately twisting his face with wrinkled disgust. “Oh my god,” he half gargled the words, promptly spitting the wine into the dirt beside him. “This tastes like shit!”

You laughed, taking the liberty of grabbing his bottle and taking a gulp for yourself. The taste was familiar, but certainly wasn’t pleasant. You cringed slightly and shook your head. “That would be why it’s so cheap.”

Eddie stared at you, aghast. “And you said you like that?”

“Never said I liked it, just drank a lot of it.” you giggled as the young man shook his head with his tongue hanging out, face scrunched up like a baby whose parents had handed them a lemon slice. You cocked your head, still smiling. “You know, whatever’s bothering you isn’t going to get better after a bottle of shitty wine and some frosting.”

That sobered him up quite a bit. Eddie’s gaze turned cold as he frustratedly grabbed the frosting and resumed shoveling it into his mouth. 

“Yeah, well…” he harrumphed around his heaping bite, “...beats going back in there and cleaning up the biggest disaster in the history of failed dates.” 

Your smile fell, empathy plucking at your heartstrings. “I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think it was.” 

So Eddie told you about Chrissy. How he had delusionally hoped he could be boyfriend material. He relayed the events of the evening to you in all their excruciating detail, and the entire time he waited for your face to mimic hers, to display the same sympathetic pinch of her eyebrows that said Oh, you poor, poor boy. How did you not see this coming? How could you have expected any outcome other than this?

But you didn’t. The only thing he saw in your eyes the entire time was understanding. 

“I’ve had my fair share of disastrous failed dates,” you sighed. “Yours is by far not the worst.”

Eddie laughed ruefully. “Oh yeah? What could be worse than a guy who misreads an entire relationship so bad that he fools himself into thinking it was even a relationship in the first place?”

“Oh don’t be like that,” you scolded him, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “That’s not even true! From what you told me, you had a relationship with this girl, even if you hadn’t officially defined it. She gave you no indication that she didn’t want a traditional, romantic relationship with you, and it wasn’t wrong in the slightest for you to want that with her. The way tonight went down sucks to say the least, but that doesn’t make it your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong here.” 

Eddie was quiet, and you were keenly aware of the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. When he made no move to speak, you continued.

“For all you know, that was the first time that someone had done something so romantic for this girl. It’s possible she was so overwhelmed at your thoughtfulness that she simply didn’t know how to break it to you that she didn’t feel the same way, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t appreciate what you were trying to do for her-”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” he griped. 

“Well it should!” you retorted, voice rising an octave. “You showed that girl that she is worth flowers and Italian food and wine and birthday cake! So many people walk around like they don’t deserve things like that, but in reality we all deserve to know what it’s like to have someone care about us like that.” You huffed out a deep breath; you were working yourself up over this. “Now, at least that girl knows the standard that every guy should have to live up to from now on.”

Eddie’s eyes were trained on you, ignited by the passion with which you spoke about the worthiness of love that everyone apparently had. He wondered if that passion came from a place of experience, or a place of longing for the sorts of romantic gestures that he’d tried to gift to Chrissy.

“Has someone done those kinds of things for you before?”

Now it was your turn to go quiet. You looked down at your lap at the wine bottle in your hands, remembering how many failed dates had left you home alone with this exact bottle on your counter. How many works of art had come from that loneliness, and how many times those works of art had sold for just enough to pay for that week’s meals. At least something useful came from all those lonely nights.

“No,” you whispered, “that’s why this Chrissy girl is so lucky. Even if she didn’t want what you were offering her, she at least knows how it feels to be valued like that. Let’s hope she chooses not to settle for less.” You took a swig of wine as Eddie eyed you curiously. “Lord knows I settled for less a few times, and look where that got me.”

“Drinking shitty wine in a trailer park?” Eddie supplied.

You smirked at him. “Well, I could also be eating frosting with a spoon.”

Smiling wryly, Eddie looked down into the half-eaten container of frosting, then offered it to you spoon and all. You eyed it for a moment, then accepted.

You wrapped your lips around a generous bite of the sugary substance while Eddie took another crack at the wine. He cringed of course, but muscled through, sighing as he stared at your little camper across the road. 

“So does this mean I’m destined to become you? Single and doodling under a rainbow umbrella?”

Eddie’s tone held no malice; nothing but sarcasm and mock dread for his future, but you shoved him with your shoulder nonetheless. 

“Hey, now, don’t be mean.”

“Do you at least have a cat or something?” he leaned into your shoulder, lazing his weight into you like a sleepy child. “I don’t exactly want to be a crazy cat lady, but one or two cats might sweeten the deal if I’m fated to be a trailer park bachelorette.”

“If you don’t stop, we’re gonna have a problem.” You laughed through the words, pushing him off of you and handing him back the frosting container, but not without licking the spoon clean and bopping him on the forehead with it. He may have been a little too focused on your tongue as you cleaned the spoon, but you didn’t notice.

“If you must know, I do have a cat.” you said. “His name is Fibonacci.”

Eddie nodded. “I’ve seen him in your windowsill. He’s gray, right?”

“Yeah, that’s him. I have to open the windows whenever I paint because of the smell, and whenever I do he assumes his favorite spot to soak up the sun and keep watch over his domain.”

That earned you a chuckle. “His domain, huh? He own the whole park?”

“He certainly thinks he does.”

“Well, now I know who to kiss up to in case I’m ever late on rent.”

You glanced at Eddie out the side of your eye, admiring the way the light played on his curls. “Y’know, Fibonacci and I are pretty close.”

“Oh you are, huh?” he quipped. He seemed to know where this was going, and chose to play along.

“Kissing up to me is basically kissing up to him.”

“Is that so?”

You nodded sagely. “It is.”

The two of you were facing each other now, the air between you shifting from neighborly to something more. 

“And how might somebody go about kissing up to you? Hypothetically.” Eddie’s voice was a smidge deeper now, and the timbre felt warm in your ears.

“Coffee.” you replied, “At that little cafe on Kerley. They agreed to hang some of my pieces there.” Shrugging, you feigned nonchalance but eyed Eddie with contact that conveyed anything but. “Hypothetically, if someone took me there for coffee and gushed about my shitty artwork, that would definitely land them in my good graces.” You paused, then added, “And by proxy, Fibonacci’s graces.”

Eddie’s grin was blinding as he beamed. “I guarantee your artwork isn’t shitty.”

“Ah, you’re very good at this gushing thing.”

“I’m just getting started.” Eddie placed the frosting container on the stoop behind him, forgotten. He wasn’t hungry for empty calories anymore. “You free Sunday morning?”

Your smile matched Eddie’s now; you couldn’t fight it if you tried. “Pick me up at 10?”

He winced, jokingly unsure. “That’s pretty early for such a long drive to your place, but for you I’ll brave the journey.”

You giggled, standing to make that very journey back across the road. “Oh, aren’t you sweet.” 

“The sweetest.” 

And he was. Eddie picked you up on Sunday, 10 o’clock like you’d planned, with a bouquet of daisies in hand. You immediately began protesting, thanking him profusely but simultaneously insisting that he really hadn’t needed to go through the trouble-

“You remember what you told me, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. That was enough to shut you up. 

“You said we all deserve the flowers, the home-cooked meals, the birthday cakes- right?” 

You nodded, clutching the flowers as your face began to hurt from the brilliance of your smile. 

“Well,” Eddie shrugged, “you shouldn’t settle for less.” 

[natimiles]

Ikevil OC: Valerie Adamas

Personal

Birthday: April 3 | Zodiac: Aries | Age: 24 Pronouns: she/her | Height: 170 cm Languages: english, french

Likes: macarons | unsweetened tea | spring | dancing | attending and throwing tea parties | going to balls | yellow and orange | making Ring blush | flirting | making flower crowns | dressing up | working for Crown | reading all types of books Dislikes: carrots | disorganization | being late | stuck-up people | lies

Skills: fast learner | being charming | hand-to-hand combat | brewing the best tea | being good with daggers

Weapon: daggers. In the absence of her daggers, she can fight hand-to-hand.

Curse

Alice in Wonderland — The White Rabbit

✿ Ability: at first glance, it may seem like Valerie has super speed due to how fast she moves. However, her ability is actually to teleport short distances (within 100 meters).

✿ Tragic Ending: being too late to save herself. The last people with the White Rabbit curse faced tragic endings such as: accidentally teleporting to the wrong place and only realizing it after being hit by a stray bullet; or drowning in debt and losing everything before they could act.

✿ Her curse activated when she was 18, on the night her parents died. A group of bandits broke into the mansion in the middle of the night, and she had to flee with her personal maid. As they were running, Valerie suddenly teleported a few meters ahead. The maid ended up left behind and caught by some of the bandits, who were trying to leave no traces or witnesses. That night, she crossed paths with Victor and William, and she’s been with Crown ever since.

General Things

✿ Adamas is (old) latin for Diamond.

✿ She was born on Easter Sunday.

✿ She hates being late… but is always late. She can’t help herself. Even if she starts getting ready super early, she ends up arriving late to her appointments. It drives her crazy.

✿ She’s an only child from a noble family. Her father was an Earl.

✿ She’s known Will and Elbert since she was a kid. She had a crush on Elbert when she was 12, but she never had the courage to approach him, let alone say anything to him.

✿ She loves balls and tea parties. Dressing up to attend them is one of her favorite things.

✿ She’s polite and the epitome of a proper lady. She entertains guests like no one else and makes everyone delighted to be in her presence. That makes her perfect for gathering information on missions.

✿ She can be as merciless and villainous as any of the others.

✿ The night her curse activated, she was the only survivor. The story goes that the Queen’s aide took pity on the poor orphan and brought her to the Palace. Countess Adamas lives in the Palace but frequently visits her former residence to host balls and tea parties. This allows her to maintain a network of relationships that can be very helpful on missions, as she is always well-informed about everything and everyone.

✿ Even though she was already 18 when she was “adopted” by Crown, it feels like Victor and William have raised her since she was a baby. She firmly believes in freedom, just like they do, and in speaking up for what she wants.

✿ Her ability is great for hand-to-hand combat. Liam taught her how to use daggers.

✿ She gets deeply absorbed when reading.

Relationships

Boyfriend: Ring

✿ The first time she laid eyes on Ring, she was torn. She felt a certain attraction to him but was also wary of Vogel, thinking they could be a danger to Crown. So she used her best charm, and after making Ring blush so easily, she realized she had found a new favorite thing.

✿ Ring was investigating Crown, and Valerie was investigating Vogel. Their meetings became increasingly frequent, and their conversations grew more varied. Before they knew it, they could no longer use the excuse that it was just an investigation for their organizations.

✿ Valerie was the one who took the first step. Unable to bear seeing all of Ring’s cute reactions any longer, she grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss. She had never seen him as red as he was in that moment.

✿ Ring calls her “bunny” (or Häschen) when they’re alone. Valerie mostly calls him by his name, but sometimes she uses pet names like “my love” and “sweetheart”.

✿ They like to spend time in the garden. He tells her about the meaning of flowers while she makes crowns for them.

✿ When the time comes for Vogel to return to Germany, they’ll both be torn about what to do. Ring will choose to stay in England to be with her because he doesn’t want her to give up her entire life just to be with him.

Friends:

✿ William is the reason she accepted Victor’s invitation to join Crown, as she already knew and trusted him. She enjoys going to events with him and looks up to him as her role model. He sees her as a younger sister who is capable of doing whatever she wants. He loves seeing her being herself and going wild on missions.

✿ Victor always invites her to every party he throws because she always attends, and his happiness is evident. She loves baking with him and always learns something new. He’s another role model for her and the one who gave her personalized daggers. He’s thrilled to see how happy she is using them.

✿ Liam is her best friend, and she enjoys spending time with him. She likes it when he styles her hair. She loves watching his plays and goes whenever she can. He loves hearing her praises after a good espetáculo because he knows it’s all genuine. They used to spend so much time together that people thought they were dating — it never really bothered them, so they never dismissed such rumors until she started dating Ring. He’s a great supporter of her relationship with Ring.

✿ Nica is someone Valerie didn’t like or trust at first, but they’re surprisingly good friends now. She thinks he’s easy to get along with, even though he flirts with half of London. She sees his playboy demeanor as nothing more than a façade.

✿ Harrison is a good friend. She shares his love for reading, and since she’s very smart, he lets her help him when she offers. She knows she can always get him to do what she wants if she has sweet treats to offer.

✿ Elbert is a good friend. Sometimes they spend time together making flower crowns in the garden. She accompanies him to some events and doesn’t let anyone come too close or touch him.

✿ Roger, Alfons, Ellis and Jude are on neutral terms with Valerie. She trusts them as she trusts everyone in Crown, and she knows she can always count on them in her hour of need.

✿ Darius is someone she doesn’t fully trust. She tries to get along with him for Ring’s sake.

neka for Valerie’s pfp — I edited the background to try to make it look like the ones in-game

[pisspope]

rei and zeke bday hcs cause like,,, why not (but also bc its what the ppl voted for)

tw: implied sex, references to canon typical violence

zeke

- its not that his parents didn’t celebrate his birthday at all its just,,, it was usually a small affair with influential PTA members and their kids. in other words, no one zeke got along with. very much a “seen not heard” while the grown ups sip mimosas type deal

- and of course zeke does everything in service of disappointing his parents so!!! its party time

- honestly u could try to throw a surprise party but good fucking luck this man is snoopy as all hell. every time ur out just a little too long with pieck or porco (they’re bickering over how early to buy balloons) he’s got u on the horn like “i know ur planning something”. would never accuse u of cheating bc he fully believes his own hype and knows u wouldnt DARE cheat on Adonis Himself (Narcissus more like but w/e)

- so yeah he’s probably at least a little involved in the planning of it all, wants to backseat drive because hes “not a loser who plans his own birthday party”. sending u screenshots from his notes app with his favorite colors, songs, what cake he wants, etc. lowkey insufferable

- day comes and you’ve rented out the kid’s bday party section of a bowling alley/arcade and filled it with every friend you can think of that isn’t vaguely shitty or hasn’t been burned by zeke in some way. so like… maybe 10 people, gabi and the kids included so they have a believable cover story if the staff asks who the party’s for. not that they’d care but zeke loves to play like he’s so sNeAkY and sHiFty by telling everyone it’s a party for udo or something.

- that man can BOWL and he’s an ass about it. the sorest winner in the world. in every universe he will knock down 10 or more little dudes with a rock and cheer and whoop and holler like an idiot. jeering at porco when he gets a gutter ball and you see reiner pull him aside like “just let him have it today. its his big day.” as if it is not ALSO reiner’s big day

- played with the idea of him getting a devil’s food cake and reiner getting an angel’s food cake for the lolz but he’s not sharing a party on his life so. coffee cake 100%, both because he likes it and because the kids don’t, which means more to take home. schemer that he is

- does ask for gifts but is pretty insistent about it being under 20 dollars (so he can see who overspent and ACTUALLY loves him. male manipulator). falco gets him an officially licensed sock monkey and he cries (pussy). whispering to u after that if his parents ever die horribly he’ll adopt him

- heading to the connected arcade after and, second verse same as the first, he kills at skee ball. breaks the record on each machine one after the other just to show off, gets all smirky holding the wad of tickets, talking about how he “does it all for uuuuu” and gives u the wettest sloppiest kiss on the cheek just to embarrass u

- does actually give u all his winnings tho. the high score, the posterity, the want to be remembered,,, the ego boost is enough, u can have the 2100 ticket pikachu plush <3 (u will never hear the end of this. i pity u)

- def gets home with his leftover dessert in hand and gifts in bags on his wrist, smile more genuine than usual. opening the door and letting u in, gifts and food quickly forgotten in lieu of giving you a proper thank you for helping put all this together

- 100% squeezing ur ass and asking if there’s any leftover cake for him, knowing it’ll make u roll your eyes but that you’ll relent bc the cheese is part of the charm (and boy when he gets that treat he asked for? he EATS)

reiner

- something something something same birthday complete opposite ends of the spectrum in terms of how they celebrate it

- wants his bday to be a nice quiet affair with the people he loves most, his little found family and maybe karina if hes feeling generous that year

- if u plan a party in any capacity hes gotta be part of the action! wants to hang streamers, balloons, any little things you decide on to spruce up your place for the event (please don’t call it an event he can’t handle the pressure)

- also u can’t have a cookout bday bc he will insist on working the grill the whole time. shark coded, will drown if he isn’t doing something 

- the party itself is extremely laidback, feels more like a big hangout. ordering 3 of his favorite type of pizza, bringing out beanbags and comfy chairs from other parts of the house so everyone can sit in the living room together. gabi and falco take the tv hostage to play video games and colt and bertholdt somehow get roped into it. it’s raucous, but comfortable.

- u and gabi collab on a homemade cake, but reiner is the baker in the family and gabi just likes the excuse to make a mess. end up making some easy cookies and buying a walmart sheet cake, and its a good thing, too, because just the sight of his name is enough to make him tear up. “you didn’t have to do all this” what, make a phone call to get ur name on a cake? the bar is on the floor unfortunately

- no presents because he can’t handle the pressure, but there’s a couple cards and his lip trembles over each one. zeke gets him a card that’s obviously for kids with stickers inside but he tears up at that one too because “it even comes with a little gift… so thoughtful…”

- rest of the party is spent doing more of the same, a couple beers are thrown back, maybe tosses a football around or something. very classic suburban white picket fence dream party. it brings reiner a quiet joy, one that he keeps close to his chest, a memory that he’ll look back on over and over.

- the guests start to filter out one by one until its just u and him, picking up paper plates, putting away leftovers. its all very domestic, it might actually be reiner’s favorite part. to just be with u in companionable silence, scooting around and putting the house in order. domesticity is something sacred that he never thought he’d have, and its a joy to share it with u.

- he INSISTS on sitting on the couch with u after, gives u those big eyes that he only gets when he wants u to pet his hair, falls asleep to one of his favorite comfort films with your hands on his head, totally content

- wakes up in the wee hours and carries u to bed like the big bear of a man that he is, not expecting anything of you, just wanting u to be comfortable. tucks u in and gives u a kiss like it’s your birthday or something

- and it’s not a gift bc reiner specifically requested no gifts, but if he wakes up to u wearing something special the next morning, something that leaves nothing to the imagination, i mean… maybe the party doesn’t have to be over quite yet

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Propaganda why Alex Eagleston is insufferable:

literally causes the end of the world by being The Absolute Worst and has done so multiple times including his alternate selves. he technically has three (and a half) love interests (cause theyre the only characters he can/attempt to kiss or express any attraction to) and he treats them all poorly first three vella sammy and essentia 2000 are cause hes a misogynist but they all get different flavors of it sammy gets fridged for the plot of the game and is basically never relevant again outside of a secret(?) ending. shes also based off of a real life dead person for no fucking reason. vella is subjected to weird speculation about her age in her introduction scene with alex saying something along the lines of she cant be older than him cause shes too pretty (alex is like 24 and vella 27 from what i recall its been a few years since ive thought about yiik) and has a weird internal monologue about his feminist ex girlfriend prompted by vella just existing. theres a weird scene when alex asks her if shes korean n says she looks vaguely ethnic making her uncomfortable. One Of His Alternate Selves Literally Caused Her To Leave Her Home Dimension Cause Of How Poorly He Treated Her and the context behind that is that to leave the world/timeline/dimension/whatever you're originally from you basically have to be super suicidal and he pushed her to that point by ghosting her for a while and next time vella saw him he was hooking up with a girl noticably younger than her (<- remember this) and immediately after being told this he can attempt to kiss her which has no actual repercussions. essentia 2000 is like technically supposed to be evil i guess but her goal is supposed to be killing alex so i cant fault her on that. the in game day after they first meet alex has like a monologue about how special and attractive she is ""she was like water filling all my cracks"" or some shit. all three girls are alternates of eachother and are on a sliding scale of how objectified they are by alex with who got it the worst depending on which aspect you're focusing on. other sort of love interest is rory (diversity loss!) who alex can attempt to kiss after he confides in him about something when rory is like 18-19 (hes meant to be about the same age as michael whos recently graduated high school) and depending on how alex treats him can literally kill himself and alex's reaction to learning this is to only focus on how terrible he feels before moving on n rory's death never being mentioned again. the whole point of the game is that alex is a piece of shit who cant even buy groceries for his mom without throwing a hissy fit about it but it undermines itself constantly by having characters forgive or just stop being mad at alex on a dime after hes been exceedingly shitty towards them in various ways and any sort of charm or endearing traits he had quickly wearing off due to him never shutting the fuck up. near the end of the game all the other party members are killed off in quick succession leaving alex by himself and all he can do is sulk in self pity before going on a space adventure or whatever to stop an alternate him thats linked to an alternate essentia and enlisting the player as a different alternate him to help fight various superficial flaws of himself (which arent even like the actual things that make him insufferable n a bad person) n then finish the job for him. i need to punt him into the sun

He constantly goes on annoying monologues about things that nobody cares about. In game he is meant to be kind of an asshole, but they never give him the necessary character development to make him feel like a proper flawed protagonist, yet the narrative makes him out to be a character who is ""deep down a good guy"". Also he doesn't seem to care about any of his friends/party members.

"""YIIK"" is a poorly written, irony-poisoned RPG using a real life actual unsolved murder as the basis for an inciting event, altered so that what happened to the victim was some ~scary supernatural stuff~ and also Alex was there being vaguely misogynistic the whole time and monologuing to no-one in a way no real human person thinks uncritically.

The game intends to paint Alex as a bad person, but this is implemented in such a snide and uninteresting manner which has nothing to actually say about him being this way, nor is it at all fun or entertaining to experience.

He has no idea what's going on, blindly following the plot with the vague motivation of being suddenly stricken with affection for a girl he basically called a freak as soon as he met her five minutes ago. He is self-absorbed, lazy and overconfident, constantly bemoaning and ignoring the needs and feelings of others. He is the only character given enough breathing space to have something to him, and yet manages to not even feel any sort of dimensional.

Also his shirt is an ad for the dev's last game.

An incel who always screams about everything and yet is overly pretentious about everything.

Propaganda why Scott Pilgrim is insufferable:

He is not a good person. He doesn’t take other people’s feelings into consideration. He mooches off his one real friend. He’s dating a teenager as a grown ass man. Every girlfriend he’s ever had hates him for good reasons

Stupid idiot

dated a 17 yr old

kind of a cop-out answer since he's like deliberately made to be an annoying person but

[theambitiouswoman]

How do I stop feeling so ugly? I feel like my looks hold me back so much and then I just get depressed, so I look worse … it’s a never ending cycle. My lack of self esteem is ruining my life but I just don’t know how to stop.

I'm sorry you're struggling with low self-esteem. Please remember that your worth isn’t tied to your physical appearance!

I want to completely start off by saying that you’re not ugly. None of you reading this are ugly. You may feel ugly, and that’s what shows in your appearance. The universe responds to how you treat yourself. How you treat yourself is how others will perceive and treat you.

You can work on yourself from the inside out or the outside in. Let’s discuss outside in, first.

Make a list and write down what you don’t like, and what you need to do to improve or how would your ideal self look. Don’t compare yourself to other girls. Focus on just YOU. Becoming your favorite version of you and not anyone else.

The first thing I recommend is for you to start working out and eating healthy foods. This is not me saying that your body needs to look a certain way. But feeling healthy contributes to a better self esteem. Working out releases endorphins, will help you feel better about yourself internally. And if body is a goal for you, then this is something you should focus on anyway.

Proper grooming and hygiene, changing your wardrobe and figuring out which compliments your body will quickly easily make you feel prettier and look more attractive. Yes, it’s true. Looking clean and polished shows people that you care about yourself and your appearance. It also makes you look more welcoming by just those little tweaks.

I strongly recommend you start by putting in the effort with that. People will notice, and you will notice people noticing- and it will help you feel better. Your confidence shouldn’t be based on external validation- but I do think it’s a great motivator.

Remember that hating yourself is not going to make you feel better or change the way you look for the better. You have to take the initiative. You have to be tired of feeling how you feel and start making changes for YOU. You are in control. And you deserve to feel good about yourself. Don’t throw yourself a pity party. You are a strong girl. You are a brave girl. You are a capable girl. You are a beautiful girl. And you are not going to get in the way of what feels good to you or your goals because you deserve those things too!

When it comes to doing the work from the inside out.. “if you feel pretty you look pretty” start by focusing on your positive qualities: Instead of fixating on your perceived flaws, try to focus on your positive qualities. Think about your strengths, talents, and accomplishments. Make a list of all the things you like about yourself that have nothing to do with your appearance.

Take care of yourself physically and emotionally. Eat a balanced diet, exercise regularly, and get enough sleep. Treat yourself to things that make you feel good, like a bubble bath, a good book, or a movie night.

When negative thoughts about your appearance arise, try to challenge them. Ask yourself if they are based in reality or if they are just your own negative self-talk. Replace negative thoughts with positive affirmations.

I love you! I hope you realize how beautiful and deserving you are soon 🫶

[blueshistorysims]

July 1922, Henford-on-Bagley, England

It seemed that fate wanted to punish him for his supposed good fortune. He was alone. His wife was in another continent, all his friends lived too far to visit, and no one cared enough to see how he was doing. 

Summer was meant to be full of parties and swimming and vacation, but instead, Byron wallowed in self-pity, shut up in the castle he hated. 

Drink had become his friend. As did books. They allowed an escape from his miserable life, alleviating some of his stress and burdens. Of course, reality always bled back in.

There were debts. Many debts he was not aware of while Thomas Walsh lived. There were from the seventh Duke’s lifetime, Thomas’ father, who had taken a great debt while purchasing land in some of the colonies. He surmised that Thomas had kept the fact that they owned land in parts of Africa and Asia because he’d know that Byron would throw a fit. And he would have. 

Disgusted, now he was forced to get rid of the land. He’d want to return it to the original people, but he needed the money, so he bit his tongue and swallowed his morals, selling the land away to some other rich person.

He planned to sell Henford Castle. He had told no one yet, but it had been one of his original plans. A man had already written in interest of buying the property. He had yet to go to it, but there was another property in Henford. It was far smaller, but still a proper country house aristocrats would approve of. 

More now than ever, he thought of his brother. Alexander would have loved being a duke. He was the perfect fit. He was charming, educated, and unlike his little brother, he knew when to keep his mouth shut. God, he bloody missed him. 

“Christ, what are you doing?” He asked himself. “You live in a fucking castle and have a bloody title. Your sister lives in a shabby apartment in East London, why haven’t you help-” He faltered when he realized he hadn’t written or phoned his sister since April, other than a single letter where he complained about his life the entire time, not a thought or question about her life. What kind of brother was he? He missed her fucking birthday without a second thought. He glanced at the photograph of his brother. “You’ve given me an idea, Alexander,” he muttered, turning toward his bathroom. He needed to shave.

[ineffablenlghtingales]

Okay, so 2x05 starts with Shax (ridiculous in that suit of armor...lol I don't really like her) leads a pitiful number of demons to assault the bookshop. Meanwhile, Azi is busy organizing the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeepers Association Month Meeting with Crowley's help. Shax sets off gathering her "army of demons" and only gets a hold of 70, but tries to rouse them to action. Ends up discorporating Eric several times because of all the questions he asks.

Then we see the little moments of Aziraphale convincing other street traders to attend the meeting (read: the ball). They're not exactly chomping at the ebit, but Azi eventually obtains their agreement. I loved that bit when Crowley's like "You're really going to do this? Can I watch?!" Then the demon's just there off on the side, watching Azi through all of this. Also, if I remember correctly (been a few days since I saw the episode), I think there's a bit where Crowley dons a fez and proceeds to play with a crystal ball he finds in the magic shop.

Nina at first doesn't want to come, but afterward she agrees.

Then that fantastic bit! "Smited? Smote?" "Smitten." "You're being silly." I LOVED that.

Also, let's not forget the part where Crowley confronts Gabriel. Haha that bit about pulling his memories from a matchbox and how unimpressed our demon was. Crowley's like ???

Aziraphale ends up throwing a ball instead of the official meeting, and Crowley, determined to make Nina go inside (bc he senses that something's up) whether she likes it or not, growls at her because he's just so Done™ and the startled woman scurries inside. Another example of the demon not being the 'epitome of evil' he's supposed to be. Aaaand another moment where Crowley calls Aziraphale his friend.

The ineffable husbands dance, well Azi pulls a reluctant Crowley out to dance, and Crowley tries to tell him that there's dangerous things afoot. (Also I'd like to question the pronunciation of charade. Is it "sha-raid" or "sha-rahd"? I've always used the first one, but he uses the second one. Idk)

Shax crashes (well, from the outside) the party and the sign the demons throw in literally demands they send out "the angle". Nice spelling job, infernal beings. Turns out that because of the miracle Crowley and Aziraphale did, Shax doesn't recognize Gabriel when he steps out. (Why on earth he has that ridiculous down comforter turned coat on, I have no idea). Then Crowley's a wonderful impromptu genius when he challenges whether they have proper clearance to even stage the attack. He makes up these stipulations that leave all the other demons questioning the legality of the attack and whether or not they'll get in trouble. Satisfied with that, Crowley tells Azi he'll be back (that wonderful moment I spoke of before, after making the connection with Neil's sonnet...I will forever hold that moment to carry that meaning...)

Crowley gets everyone out and does a thing to make sure they don't remember this. Then he spots Muriel observing the whole scene and comes up with a plan. I also loved this bit! (very much paraphrased bec nope, couldn't find the clip of it)

Crowley: You're an officer of the law, aren't you? Muriel: ... Um it's a little hard to explain, well, yes, I am. Crowley: So you can arrest someone if a crime's been committed? Muriel: Er, well, I'm not actually a-- Crowley *holding his hands out*: Go on, officer, arrest me. I'll...come quietly. Muriel: ???? Crowley: 😤 Muriel: *confused noises also how to explain I'm not really a constable inspector* Crowley: Listen, I know. You're an angel, I'm a demon. I need you to "arrest" me because there's a crime against Heaven.

[thesmokingguns]

Lonely For You

MINORS DNI 18+

Taglist: @ayablackwood​ @rocknrollsoul76 @greeneyezblackheart​ @lady-jane3​ @rocketgrrrl27​ @slutforstradlin​ @theoutsiders25​ @fispapercrafter​ @bbyamberx​ @brezeblog​ @samanthasgone​ @aggressive-slytherin​ @clover270​ @grayxiu​ @another-obsessed-with-duff @badfvith​ @bia003​ @queenbae18 @axl-roses-rose @d-ahliaa @beebemarie​ @guns-n-roses-gal​ @themoonbelongstome​ @pinksweetgirl18​ @cemmia @bieberhoodforever​

It had been three weeks since you had been home in LA. You had been filming in the Caribbean, then vacationing with girlfriends for a week there and finally flying to Florida for a week-long bachelorette party. You needed to be home, to see Nikki, to finally have a proper orgasm and not the rushed rubbing of your fingers on your clit for mediocre fireworks that flittered limply in your stomach.

But as you called Nikki, ready to tell him you’d be home and tell him how desperate you were he broke the worst news possible. That reunion you had been expecting wasn’t going to happen. Nikki would send a car for the airport and he’d be home that night or maybe the next day. You had wanted to whine, throw a fit but you had been numb to it, hurt and cold as you said it was fine and you understood; you did.

Both of you were working so hard for your dreams. How was it fair for you to chase yours and him to go after his and you get mad?

Your head was against the glass of the car, sunglasses over your eyes as you thought about how you were going home to an empty house on a continued journey where you would just be lonely some more. You tried to be positive but as you got closer and closer, the sick feeling in your stomach as you thought about how all this time away was driving you insane.

Pulling up to the house, you realized that you would be alone and the idea of falling into bed alone and just sleeping until Nikki came back.

You were in a self pity daze as you dragged your feet, heading upstairs without thinking twice about anything else. Your luggage was in front of the door and you were sure Nikki would trip over it and curse you.

Oh well.

It was easy to strip off your clothes, naked as you dragged your feet along plush carpets and into the closet where you promptly stole Nikki’s hoodie, pulling it over your body. It smelled like him and the pang of loneliness made you grab your stomach, falling into bed.

The sheets kicked around your ankles as you moved around, trying to burrow yourself in a depression cocoon. Pulling the hoodie around you tighter as you nestled yourself deeper into the bed you should be pinned under Nikki in. Your lower lip trembled as you felt your hand go down, between your legs.

But as soon as you felt the bundle of nerves between your legs, heard the gasp that you made at the way it felt you sat upright. Nikki might not be home  but all your favorite toys were here.

You  moved with purpose now, diving into NIkki’s side table, nose wrinkling at the bottles of lubes he never fully closed and left a sticky film in the table. Finding your dildo you bit your lip, pulling it into bed with you as you thought about how you were going to end up cumming just from the tip of it.

The door opened and your eyes lifted, Nikki there, rushing forward as he looked at you, face softening when he saw you and then the devious look that passed as soon as he saw what was in your hand.

“You’ve been home for what, ten minutes little butterfly and you’re already so needy, touching yourself.” He tsked, foot kicking the door closed behind him as he stalked over to the bed, moving your legs apart as you pouted.

Nikki slid between your legs, doing a push-up over your body before lowering himself down, kissing you firmly. Lips hot against yours as the feeling of him just awakened more of your loneliness. The toy fell from your hands as you fisted his shirt, holding him against you, whimpering as the touch starved feeling burst out and just a kiss overwhelmed you.

He tried to ease back, out of the kiss but your open thighs closed, locking around him and keeping him against you.

“Poor little butterfly. Such a needy little girl.” His lips were off you, the pout as you tried to pull him back but nikki was untangling your hands from his shirt, sitting back on his knees as he made you sit up with him.

He was lifting your hands, pull off the hoodie and leaving you naked, shivering at the way the air tickled your naked body and Nikki’s eyes roamed freely over the perky nipples, puffy and begging to be touched.

“Nikki, please.” He could see the way your eyes watered, in the corners and he was quick to shhh you, thumbs pushing the tears out and away before they could fall.

He was shaking his head, soft kisses on your cheeks as you whimpered again and Nikki laid you down, his body on top of yours as he tried to soothe you, knowing how wound up you are.

“Poor little butterfly. I can’t even make love to you tonight.” The cry came from your lips and he was making the hush sounds again, “It would be too much for you. You know that, my darling. You know how tight and wound up you get when daddy doesn’t take care of you. It’s going to be too much for you tonight.” You wanted to kick and scream, cry some more but he was right and you knew that.

Going three weeks with just the tips of your fingers and being the person who used touch as your love language it was hard on you to go that long without someone else touching you.

“I need something. Please, just kisses?” You were so needy for him to touch you that you wanted something.

But Nikki was shaking his head. Pulling away as you made fists, annoyed and frustrated. Horny and unable to control yourself.

He was reaching beside you, seeing the frustration written on your face. His hand went into the draw, pulling out one of the bottles of lube and picking up your toy.

“Try to relax, little butterfly, let me take care of you.” he was kissing your shoulders, moving the way down as he started to spread your thighs apart more, letting you fully open up for him and give him space to play with you.

The way he took in a breath, sucking in air as he looked at the wet glisten between your thigh, Strands of your own cum like beautiful silky spiderwebs, ready to lure in and catch unsuspecting prey. He knew how wet you could get, how you soaked yourself because you were so needy. This was the longest stretch you had spent from each other, even when Nikki went on tour the longest you’d spend apart was two week.s He knew how needy you were with not just sexual release but small touches. He would have to spend a week touching you from simple things like touching your hair to actually making love to you.

You whimpered, reaching for Nikki, hands in his hair as you felt the way your thighs were already shaking. He knew you weren’t going to last, you would cum too hard and cry just as hard. Nikki would have to choose to either keep playing with you, push your body further or let you enjoy the thrill of cumming and push you threw it.

Both were a slippery slope.

The tip of the dildo pushed past your wet lips, teasing around your hole as you thought about pushing yourself down further to open yourself to it, but Nikki was pulling it away, not letting you impale your wet cunt on the rubber cock.

“Dadddddy.” the whine made him smile, he squeezed the bottle of lube, looking at you, all bare skin and pouty face. He loved when you looked like this, the whimpering wet baby who needed him to guide her through an orgasm.

He loved the desperation in your voice, the way you were so unabashed with your pleasure, legs open and quaking, just waiting for him, trusting him with your pleasure. He was drunk off the power. HIs lips came down, kissing your knee as you tugged his hair, wanting a kiss but he was a demon, kissing your thighs instead. Nikki hadn’t shaved and the way his stubble burned as he nuzzled into your soft skin had your head tilting back, eyes closing.

The head of the dildo was pushing into you wet on wet as the lube mixed with your fluids. He was teasing you, just the head entering you, stretching you as you hungry walls greedily clenched, trying to drag it deeper inside of you.  Nikki knew you too well and had pressed his arm over your stomach, fingers stroking at your rib cage and cupping your breasts.

“Stay calm, my darling butterfly. Stay calm for me.” But he was asking the impossible of you. Asking for a miracle because you were leaking, barely remembering to take breaths as you felt him sliding just the tip in and out of you, swirling it around as you felt yourself getting ready to cum.

“I can’t!” Nikki kissed your thighs, moving his hand off your breast, down your thighs as he stroked, kissing the top of your thighs and up to lay his head on your belly, feeling the fluttering in your stomach.

“Okay, Butterfly, okay. Cum for me then, my darling. I’m here, okay?” you gripped his hair as he kissed your belly button, back arching as you let yourself lose grip, legs straightening, every bone seeming to crack in your body as you groaned loudly, a sound of pleasure as Nikki watched in awe.

You clenched around the tip of the fake cock, your wetness coating down the shaft and now over the fingers of the man. He was watching you, watching the way your pleasure was on your face, traveling through your body until your hands loosened in his hair and the first sob came out.

Nikki knew this would happen, he was already moving the fake cock from you, picking up the discarded hoodie he had peed off you to wipe some of the stickiness from between your legs. Moving up to come grab you, pulling you against his chest as he stroked your hair, peppering kisses along your face. The whine, a whimper coming from your lips as you curled into him, clinging to him as he rubbed your back, holding you close to him.

“I want more.” Nikki knew you were going to be like this, knew you were going to demand things that you couldn’t handle. “Nikki, I need to know you love me.” But he didn’t expect you to turn things like this.

He groaned, your hand roaming between his legs, he wanted you, he knew that you would take him, hold him as he made love to you, whisper in his ear more and more and more, insatiable but needing him like air in your lungs.

And NIkki just wanted you to breathe.

[laindependencialuna1899]

Like I said in my last art post in @artbyeritza, I genuinely hate Instagram and TikTok as an artist's platform/ social media. The constant churning of artwork/writing daily in posts and short-form video content will burn you out so quick it will make you feel sick. I think that's partly why there's ageism in the art community in general because who else can churn out high-quality content quick but kids and teens. You probably could if you're an adult and that's your full-time job but if you're trying to get an art commission without a platform and publicity it will stress you the fuck out.

Aside from that, here are other reasons why I don't like Instagram and Tiktok:

They always expect you to post a Reel/Video. Always. The only time I've hit virality before was when I posted my Bakunawa furry art OC in a reel and that did tremendously well but that did not translate to likes on my other art posts or follows

The comment section will tear you to shreds (mostly on TikTok) In IG, while they won't say it directly, they have snide comments too. They can be very supportive BUT THAT IS, if you even get comments.

Most importantly, both video-sharing platforms pander to their big and already established artists. And these artists had the audacity to post art and reels/videos with sad/trending music/sounds, drumming up pity parties when they're already sitting at three digits+ and above worth of followers. I hate that. What's happening is their content gets treated like any other artist out there and they sit with a huge amount of followers any small and unpopular artist can dream of and suddenly they feel oppressed (boo hoo sooo sad I cri). They're not. Small artists usually juggle A JOB and find time for their ART.

BUT WAIT, AM I ABOUT TO EXCUSE THIS HELLSITE KNOWN AS TUMBLR?!? No.

Lmao, as you can see in my main's badges I've been here for a long fucking time, partly because where else can I see cool homestuck artists but I'm sitting on 28 followers on my main blog (this blog) and my art blog @artbyeritza has only 9 followers. My Insta only has 28 followers and mainly it's because it's a new account. In both or any case, posting art of any kind on social media is not a fun experience if you're small and continue to be small despite being on the internet for so damn long. I would attribute it to Meta's broken and ever-changing, un-user-friendly algorithm and Tumblr being old and dead (the same way Gaia Online is). TikTok can make you famous but the US's red scare with the Chinese is constantly getting on my nerves and it eats up your attention span too. With both TT and Insta, they expect you to be a GREAT EDITOR AND ARTIST MASTER OF YOUR CRAFT like it's easy peasy. The dead bird, now eX app (I don't fucking know why people still use it it's good as defunct and Musk will make it worse day by day anyway) had that artists' platform potential but the art community is nasty and has faves too (surprise surprise).

In conclusion, I wish there were proper social media that boosts their artists without the need to throw cash in it (or idk, how about letting your artists be seen THEN THEY DECIDE WHETHER TO PAY FOR ADS OF THEIR ART) and just a place where artists can feel cared for, seen, appreciated and acknowledged.

[dream-meister-translations]

MEL CHARACTER CARD #2

━

Not long after the jewellery incident…

MEL : Hey, Volks, who made this tea? It doesn't taste good at all…

EMMA : Oh, that was me…

EMMA : (I made it for myself, not you…)

MEL : The steeping method is all wrong. How can you take pride in brewing a cup of tea like this?

MEL : And those flowers don't match at all!

MEL : The colors clash with the furniture! They're so ugly and worthless, why not just throw them away?

EMMA : (Those are the flowers the laborers bought us…)

EMMA : Mel, we plan to place those flowers on proper display at a later date.

VOLKS : Well, how about this?

EMMA : Huh?

Volks takes the flowers and moves them beside the staircase.

VOLKS : If we put them here, won't they harmonize with the room and look festive while doing so?

MEL : But that's beside the point. The flowers are all wrong to begin with!

Come to think of it, Mel's always like this around Volks. Always finding something to criticize…

━

Then one day at lunch…

MEL : Mmm, mmh… What in the world is wrong with that chef's nose? They went completely overboard with the spices.

EMMA : Yeah? I heard they have a reputation for spicy food.

MEL : It's absolute ludicrous that people praise them for this kind of thing. I don't know how anyone goes out of their way to eat here…

EMMA : Mel. You're way out of line.

VOLKS : Hmmm… Indeed the spicy aroma in the air is incredibly strong.

VOLKS : For someone with such keen senses, it's only understandable they make you uncomfortable…

MEL : Hah! See, Master, I told you, didn't I? There's something wrong with the kind of freaks who enjoy this trash!

VOLKS : That said, Mel… One's preference for a food's taste or aroma varies from person to person. No matter how worthless you find them...

VOLKS : Not everyone agrees with you, you know that, right? Take myself and Emma for example…

MEL : Huh? Ugh…

EMMA : I'm… Sorry for getting so mad at you, Mel. I've been trying to be more like Volks since the last time you guys had an argument like this…

VOLKS : You don't need to apologize, Emma. Such a rebuke can be an important factor in one's growth.

VOLKS : Hm… In that case…

VOLKS : If you're feeling the same way, then I will redouble my efforts to refine him.

EMMA : ………..?

━

One day, after another such exchange…

VOLKS : We've received a request from Gloria, the land of majesty and power. They wish for the Dream Weavers to coordinate an event for the Princess debutante.

EMMA : Debutante…? So its a party to celebrate her public debut?

VOLKS : Yes. And as per the client's wishes, it must be perfect in every way.

VOLKS : So, I wanted to ask… Emma, you're a girl, and Mel's incredibly insightful. …What do guys think?

MEL : Hah! They want it to be perfect? Pity, you don't know the meaning of the word!

EMMA : (Mel's looking even more upturned than usual today…)

MEL : Heh, heh… But, oh well? If you say you need me, I'm powerless to stop you. So what can I do for you?

VOLKS : Thank you for your help, Mel… Now then, let's begin…

VOLKS : To start with, I've prepared a sample dress for her to wear at the big event.

EMMA : Wow! It's stylish and fresh! It's perfect for a girl's public debut!

MEL : Hmmm… Maybe for your average girl, but you're kidding yourself if you think it's the kind of thing a princess would wear…

MEL : Of course, it's perfect if you're looking to blend in with the crowd, but it simply has no impact at all. The princess would have to be super plain and super boring to wear a dress like that!

EMMA : (Harsh as always, it seems…)

VOLKS : Your opinions of the princess aside, I appreciate your honesty. Did you have any other concerns?

MEL : Of course I do! Let's just start from the bottom and I'll tell you everything you did wrong, okay? Let's start with…

Mel began listing off one scathing remark after another, criticizing everything he laid his eyes on. But even still, Volks simply listened to every last one of Mel's criticisms with unwavering satisfaction, smiling all the while.

[docholligay]

I come to you, Goddess of Fine Adult Beverages, for advice. I currently have a cold, which sucks, but also requires that best of cold remedies, the hot toddy. (Alcohol is dehydrating, yeah, I know, but they still help, even if it's a placebo.) When I felt the cold coming on, I went to the store for cold medicine, and also dropped by the ABC store for dark rum, which the recipe for a hot toddy I found said was proper. The problem is, I got completely overwhelmed and confused by all the options and ended up just getting the prettiest bottle (it has tentacles!), which is fine, I guess, but now I have this fair to middling rum that I don't know what to do with as it's certainly not for drinking on its own, nor will I be less overwhelmed next time. So, help? What do I do with the rum (cake? Drinks? Sacrifice to pirate gods?)? And what should I look for next time that will actually be worthwhile?

Oh is that Kraken? It DOES have a cool bottle, but yeah, it is stunningly mediocre.

First of all, I slap you across the face with a mix of derision, pity, and love. I love hot toddies. We have the British to thank for them despite the fact that I could not get one in the Fucking Freezing Areas of the United Kingdom because it was June, and a hot toddy is apparently a winter drink regardless of the realities of the actual weather. That calendar says it is summer, ma'am. Yes, I realize it is 5C and drizzling and the wind is coming off the ice cold sea, but it's June. And yet, a part of me must pledge my heart to the United Kingdom because thence did this noble drink appear. RULE BRITANNIA, I GUESS.

A hot toddy is made with whiskey, traditionally Scotch, though when it made the jump to America, obviously, the whiskey changed to the whiskey we had at the time. What are describing can be called bumbo, grog (though, in fairness, about 87 things are called grog), or simply a rum toddy.

Oh look! So many words and I haven't even begun to answer your question! Let's all briefly act surprised.

*pause*

Okay, now to your actual question. Kraken rum is pretty much, fine. It has almost no noteworthy qualities, it's completely drinkable. It exists.

What you do with mediocre rum depends on what you WANT to do with mediocre rum. Mediocre rum can be a really good flavored soak for a cake, since you're introducing different flavors, and I also like to use mediocre rums for party punches, which often have strong flavors--when I make You Ever Get That Feeling of Deja-Vu it is pretty much always with middle-bottom shelf rums, because I'm going to use a bunch of juices and such to mess with the flavor and a lot of the rum is mere suggestion. If you don't want to think about it, I have my own variation on jungle juice but jungle juice is basically "Cheap rum and also fruit juices thrown together oh my god i'm so drunk suddenly' and it's great for parties.

Alternatively, make tom and jerry batter. One of my favorite hot drinks, and depending on how sweet you make it, the thickness and sweetness can elevate a middling rum to something extra.

I really like rum raisin also, and even if you're not into making ice cream, I like to Soak Fruits in rum and then add them to cookies or cakes or whatever.

So I'd probably use it for baking or for party punches, but you can also throw some orange slices in it and let it sit in a corner for a month and come out of it with some orange rum, and oranges are still just in season, I think.

[sheep33hallow]

Was it more than a chance(TengenxZenitsu)  5/5

First 

Previous

Summary: Zenitsu is enjoying his dating lifestyle and hopes it will continue to be more one day, but right now all he needs is Tengen to keep his unnecessary commentary to himself.

Tag: Crossdressing, Modern Era, ABO, Flirting, Enemies to Lovers

Scratch that.

 He won’t be alone.

 You know why?     

 He now has an unofficial roommate.

 A month has passed since, Zenitsu was offered his position in the orchestra pit. They had dinner together the night of his audition, Tengen’s energy levels were low after having a pity party for himself in his office after the phone call with Tanjiro, when Zenitsu asked if he could stay the night because Tengen’s home was so close to the theater. He lived in the heart of the city, being close to his gyms, and family.

 His siblings stayed the night sometimes, and the extra two rooms were people ready. Tengen was drunk, curling his arm tighter around Zenitsu’s waist in the booth, he remembers kissing his forehead before telling the Omega, he could stay as long as he liked.

 Now his spare bedroom was occupied by a small blonde.

 He didn’t notice how deep it was until they were on the couch folding laundry together, one Sunday night.

 Tengen walked up his stairs to his front door. One hand holding groceries, while the other pulled his tie loose. Yesterday during breakfast, Zenitsu made a passing comment about Gyudon, and Tengen spent the afternoon watching recipe videos, feeling confident to try his hand at it for the first time.

 Pressing the key code in, his door unlocked. He walked in calling out for the blonde. “Zen?” He tugs the tie off of his neck, letting it fall to the floor. He kicks his shoes off, heading toward the kitchen. Putting the groceries on the kitchen bar, he washes his hands.

 “Zen?” He calls out again. Tearing the paper towel, he turns around, learning against the sink. He dries his hands, straining his ears for the smallest sound of the Omega.

 Nothing.

 He looks toward the living room, seeing Zenitsu’s jacket thrown over the back of the couch.

 He was home.

 Tengen huffs. Tapping his foot on the trash can, he tosses the balled up paper towel inside. He picks his foot up, letting the top close, he heads toward the guest room.

 “Oi, Kitten.” He tugs his hair tie free from his head. He hated having to look so proper at work. He throws the hair tie into a key bowl in the hallway. His bare feet glide along the wooden floor.

 He needs to feed his mice. He and Zenitsu went to the pet shop last week, and he allowed the blonde to name one of them.

 A sound of a groan sets his senses off, when he’s in front of the cracked door. He puts his hand on the doorknob, opening it up wider and he sees Zenitsu on his bed. “Hey, Zen. Did you hear me calling for you? I’m going to start dinner soon.”

 Another groan.

 Tengen tilts his head, trying to decode what that groan could mean. Zenitsu is a vocal boy even when sick, so he doesn’t know what this refusal to speak means. Walking in further, he kneels next to his bed. “Are you hungry?”

 Silence.

 He can’t see Zenitsu with the Omega under his covers.

 Tengen rubs his face, wanting to stop his frustration coming forth when he doesn’t know the true issue for Zenitsu’s attitude.

 “Zen, let me just see your face. Then I’ll leave the room, otherwise, I’m tugging the blanket off of you.”

 “No.” A low groan comes out.

 “You have three seconds.” He lays his hand on bed to emphasize his point.

 “I’m okay.” Tengen can hear the tremble in his voice.

 “1. Not good enough.” He tightened his grip. “2.”

 Zenitsu shoots up, still covered by the blanket. Tengen has to hold in the snort at the sight before him.

 “Alright, Uzui.” He concedes. Pulling the blanket off to only show his head, the rest stays covered, which peaks Tengen’s interest. Retracting his hand to his lap, Tengen looks up at him from the floor.

 “Well, aren’t you a sight.”

 “And you’ve seen me.”

 Tengen racks his eyes over him. “Show me more.”

 “No. You wanted to see my face.”

 Tengen wags his finger back and forth. “My house, my rules.”

 “No.”

 Tengen makes a jerking motion like he’s going to climb onto the bed. Zenitsu freaks out, tumbling off. “Shit.” Tengen says, rushing toward the other side.

 On his hands and knees, he looks down at Zenitsu, who looks to be alright. A pile of clothing broke his fall.

 A familiar pile of clothing.

 Clothing that he specifically remembers throwing into the hamper this morning.

 “You’re so mean to me.” Zenitsu says. Swinging his leg out to hit Tengen. His attempt fails when Tengen swiftly grabs his ankle, tugging him closer, legs unceremoniously spread with the Alpha in between them.

 “So you kick the man who feeds you.”

 “I’ll kick anyone who comes into my nest without permission.” He attempts to kick him again. It fails to land, when that happens he returns his focus to gathering the clothing that fell off of the bed with him.

 Tengen lets his ankle go.

 “Do you want your clothes back?” Zenitsu’s holding onto them for dear life. Tengen isn’t that cruel. He’s confused, but not cruel.

 “Tell me why you have them?”

 “I like how they smell.” He admits. Face red. He stands up, crawling back onto the bed.

 It’s been a month. Tengen can’t take this anymore. “Can i spend your heat with you?”

 Zentisu chuckles, but there’s no humor to him. “Why?”

 Tengen jerks his hand out. Pointing incrimination at the pile of clothes in Zenitsu’s arm. “You obviously like my smell, and I like you. So why not?!” His chest began to hurt, that confession flew out of him without any thought.

 He’s breathing hard.

 Zenitsu throws the clothes at him. Anger is evident on his face. “You don’t want me.” He yells.

 Tengen stands up, the clothes fall to the floor at the action. “I should be saying that.” His hands are shaking. “You come into my home. Making me feel things when I know you’re not looking for a mate.”

 “How can I make you feel anything? You seem to love the bachelor lifestyle.”

 “Are you fucking serious? I want a home. I’ve been married three fucking times. I’m exhausted to try again, but for the last couple of years, when I look at you. I want you.”

 “Years?” Surprise in his voice.

 “Yes.” He hisses.

 Zentisu gets off the bed, standing in front of Tengen. “Wha–” Disbelief in his tone. “What took you so long?”

 “For one, I wanted to better myself and heal from my previous marriages, and—” He says. “My Alpha told me to wait on you.”

 “Wait?” Zenitsu says, mostly to himself. Confused at what there was to wait on.

 “Think about it?” He hates to ask, since it feels like a blow to his ego. “If I asked you out a year ago, would you have said yes?”

 Zenitsu jerks back like he has been slapped. “Of course not.” He venomously says.

 Tengen snaps his fingers. “Bingo.”

 Zenitsu bits his lip, looking away bashfully. “So.”

 Tengen crosses his arms. “So.”

 “A heat partner would be nice.” Zenitsu admits shyly, rubbing his fingers together, not making eye contact with Tengen.

 “Zenitsu.” He begins, his shoulder’s slump in exhaustion. “You like my smell, and I like you. Do you want a partner because when I asked to spend your heat with you, I actually mean, can I court you?”

 Zenitsu gasps, looking up at Tengen, eyes wide. “No.”

 Tengen feels some relief at being rejected. He’s sad, but it's a familiar feeling. “Okay.” He’s going to make dinner. Then sneak off to one of his sibling’s homes, he can’t be alone with Zenitsu. It’s too much right now.

 Fuck his insides hurt.

 He takes a step to the door. A small hand reaches out, taking hold of his wrist. “Where are you going?”

 Tengen looks around with confusion. “To make dinner.”

 “But I’m not done talking, you idiot.”

 “You just rejected me! How does that make me an idiot?!”

 “I didn’t reject you.” He stomps his foot like a toddler. “I don’t want to be courted. Feels like a waste of time, if I already like your smell.”

 “I thought you didn’t want to date anyone.”

 “Huh? Where did you get a stupid idea like that from?”

 “Tanjiro.”

 Zenitsu pulls Tengen close, wrapping his arms around Tengen’s large frame. “Shhh. Tanjiro is pregnant. Don’t listen to him. He’s delirious.” Zenitsu rubs his face into Tengen’s chest. Tengen wraps one arm around him, as he thinks.

 Out of the three of the friends, Tanjiro has the most sense. He doubts Zentisu’s words. The omega must be hiding his true thoughts. “Do you like me, or am I just here because you like my smell?”

 “Tengen…..why must we continue this conversation?” He whines.

 Tengen sighs. He too would like to go on their merry way without talking more, but he wants Zenitsu to be it for him. No more divorce, or broken bonds. The pitiful glances his parents give him.

 He’s an Alpha, yes. He’s a man with emotions as well.

 “Please answer.” He pleads.

 Zenitsu grazes his fingertips along Tengen’s spine. “Your smell did it for me.” He says.”

 Tengen likes honesty.

 “Ugh, but I’ve always liked how you’ve taken care of me. When we first met, Tanjiro said I should be your friend because our scents created a pleasant smell together.” He strains his neck back to look up at Tengen. “And when you got a divorce, I didn’t know how to feel. You were finally free and looked to be enjoying it. So I dated other people, but my inner Omega hated so many people during each of my heats.”

 Red meets yellow.

 “We bickered a lot. Your presence annoyed and pleased me. I felt confused.” He continues. Tengen uses his other hand, petting the blonde’s head. Zenitsu rested his cheek against the Alpha’s stomach under the ministrations. “Then we became friends, and we had sex.”

     Good     sex. They both thought.

 “I thought you would say something if you were interested in more. So I was greedy with your attention until you kicked me out.”

 “I want you so badly.” He admits strongly. “I want to marry you and I want you to meet my family.” He says. “But, I know I’ve been married before, and that looks bad. Like who gets married four times.” He chuckles.

 He whines when Zenitsu digs his nails into his back.

 “Life isn’t meant to go one way. You thought you were doing what was best for you at the time.” Zenitsu reprimands.

 He did.

 Tengen curls both of his arms around Zenitsu’s small body. “Tell me again. You want me right?” He whispers into the blonde locs.

 “Hahaha. Fishing for compliments.” He says, trying to lighten the mood.

 “Zen.”

 Zentisu pats his back. “Okay, okay. Stand up, let's look at each other.”

 Tengen straightens his back, reaching for Zenitsu’s hand, he caresses his thumbs across the Omega’s palms. Zentisu is smiling brightly.

 “I like you!” He says proudly.

 Tengen’s eyes lower with affection for the man before him.

 “Now, lets skip the courting, and you bite me because if you think of another person after having sex with me tonight, I will find a way to revoke your rights to Hori!” His smile is still in place.

 Tengen laughs. “You don't have that power.”

 “Well you’ll be marrying me, so I guess you’ll have to find out if that is true or not.” Zenitsu’s smile turns more sultry.

 “Hmmm. You are right.” He walks Zenitsu backwards toward his bed. Letting go of his hands, he bent his knees slightly to cup his hands under Zenitsu’s butt. Lifting him into the air, “Why don’t you show me some of your secrets right now? I’ve heard you’re a spitfire in the thrones of heat.” He purrs.

 Zenitsu ‘oofs’ when Tengen throws him onto his back. Tengen takes his shirt off, his pale skin shining under the lamp’s light. He reaches up, rubbing along Tengen’s clavicle near his scent glands. He never touched that area previously. “I thought you were going to make dinner?” He asks when Tengen pulls Zenitsu’s sleep shorts off. He flinches when the Alpha sticks a finger into him.

 “Already loose.” He says to himself. He’s looking at the feast between Zentisu’s legs. “KItten, my meal is right here.”

 Tengen pulls his finger out, deciding to kneel on the floor. He rested both of his hands on Zenitsu’s waist, pulling him to the edge of the bed. Slowly sliding his hands down, he picks each thigh up, sliding them over his shoulders. Presenting the beautiful pussy, and cock in front of him.

 He lays a kiss on the thigh. Zenitsu moans. “Tengen.”

 “I’m here.” He whispers. He noses the small cock to the side, wanting to give a kiss to the blonde mound of curls. “Forever.” He digs his own nails into the plump thighs. “Mine.” Emphasizing it with a small growl.

 “Yours.” Zenitsu whimpers.

 Opening his mouth, he uses his tongue to guide the cock inside. It’s sweaty, and salty. He loves the taste. He can fit all of it inside without any issue, so he sucks it. Curling his tongue around the tip, thinking how he wants to make Zenitsu gag on him later.

 Zenitsu has his fist balled up in front of him. One is covering his mouth, and Tengen decides to let it go for now.

 Those sounds can’t stay trapped forever.

 He drools over it. His tongue flattens it against the curls, he licks it all. Not minding the few curls that get into his mouth. It’s no issue. He wants it all.

 Pulling back, he licks his lips, he considers the creature above him. “Kitten?”

 A hum is his answer.

 “Are you okay?” He pressed his cheek to Zen’s thigh.

 “Haa— I…”

 Tengen does not wait. Moving down, he uses his tongue to spread open the lips stuck together with the Omega’s slick. From top to bottom, the seam opens, presenting that hole he hadn’t seen for the past week. She looks beautiful, winking at him in the motion of Zenitsu’s breath. She calls to him like a siren, wanting to make him her willing slave. He’ll take care of her, she’s his pussy now. She can never temp another, he won’t allow it.

 Tengen opens his mouth, letting the slick pool into him. He swallows it quickly, wanting to give it the attention it deserves. He licks, slowly. Zenitsu continues to whine above him. Using his hand, he opens his pants, pulling his cock free. He doesn’t want it to end soon, he ends up using the end of his palm to roll over it, giving him enough pressure to satisfy the craving.

 He withdrew his mouth, gathering the spit along his gums to spit on it. Zenitus lets out a long moan, the pitch changes as Tengen uses his free hand to smear the saliva over the Omega’s pussy and cock.

 He spits again, letting that one fall down against Zen’s ass crack.

 Zenitsu brings his hand down, sticking his fingers into Tengen’s mouth. “Ten.”

 Tengen coats the fingers in his saliva as well. When it’s good and soaked, Zenitsu retracts his hand, bringing it up towards his mouth. Tengen watches mesmerized. Zenitsu licks his fingers like his favorite treat.

 Zenitsu spreads his legs wider, causing them to fall off of Tengen’s shoulders.

 “What do you want?” His balls are tight. Rolling his palm in long hard intervals on his cock.

 Zenitsu’s feet touch the ground, he’s sliding over the edge of the bed. Tengen moves his hands to take hold of the omega, but he gets a whine of annoyance to make him stop. Zenitsu takes the fingers from his mouth, his other arm rests on Tengen’s shoulder.

 He uses it to hold himself up, as he slowly slides off enough, until he’s hovering over Tengen’s tip. Zentisu moans, his pupils blown, mouth hanging open, the cock enters him. Tengen slams the rest inside, he is only so strong with a prize in his life. Zenitsu moans like a whore, tugging his own hair in delicious glee. Zenitsu wants to be fat with his cum by the end of the night. He throws his head back against the bed, his body sliding up and down the edge with each thrust of the magnificent cock that chose him as his mate.

 He wants more. So he asked. “More.” He all but screams. He’s never cried before during sex, the dick has him feeling delerious. Tengen plays with him first, dragging his cock from root to tip slowly. Zenitsu is shaking. “Ten.” He gasps with a shuddering breath.

 “Alright, alright.” Tengen says, face red. He pulls out completely, turning Zenitsu onto his front. Zeinitsu takes hold of the comforter beneath him. Tengen flattens him more against the bed, his form covers Zenitsu completely. The nudge of the cock at his ass, and Tengen’s nibbles on his scent gland, he comes. Full body shuttering, and upset that he couldn’t do the grand finale with his Alpha.

 Tengen takes the opportunity to bite him. The fangs pierce him, causing his orgasm to lengthen. Blood dribbles down his chest. He reaches back, curling his arm around Tengen. “Mine.” Zenitsu proclaims.

 Bloody lips kiss up his neck. “Yours.”

 His asshole is used thoroughly after that.

 ____

 Three hours later, at 1am, Tengen gets the chance to make the Gyudon. Zenitsu won’t let go, deciding to keep a tight hold on his waist while the Alpha cooks.

 When the food is done, they move to the couch. Tengen isn’t hungry, so he focuses on feeding Zenitsu. “I want you again after this.” Tengen states.

 Zenitsu snorts with a mouthful of food. “There are three days of this. Let me rest.”

 Tengen kisses his forehead. “Never.”

 Zenitsu holds his hand up when Tengen offers him another spoonful. “I’m really happy.” He admits. Zenitsu doesn’t know why he feels like he’s told a dark secret.

 “I, as well.”

 “Am I allowed to be this happy?”

 “If Tanjiro or Inosuke were saying this, what would you say?”

 “I’d say of fucking course.” He says passionately as if they were in front of him right now.

 Tengen smiles at him. “Of fucking course, Kitten.”

 Zenitsu’s body feels warm. Life feels so perfect right now. “You can’t call me kitten anymore.”

 “What should I call you instead?”

 He taps his lips in thought. “Beloved.”

 “Beloved.” He tries to get a feel of how it tastes on his tongue. “I was quite fond of kitten.”

 Zenitsu shakes his head. “Kitten was us before. We’re something new now. Something special. So I’d like a new name from you.”

 “I can do beloved.”

 Zenitsu shines brightly. He didn’t know relationships could be so easy for him.

 “There is another name, I’d like to call you.” Tengen puts a hand on Zenitsu’s stomach. “One day.”

 Using both of his hands, he lays them on top of Tengen’s. His eyes feeling misty, a long forgotten dream, he stopped believing in. “I’d allow that.”

 A promise, and a bowl of Gyudon rests between them as a kiss is shared.

 They came together the way they were meant to.

 No mistakes, only lessons on the road of true love.

AO3

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