#i have short hair and kinda dress boyish

[trashyandtiredsol]

Hope my tags actually make sense :/

pronoun time

leave a comment or tags for what pronouns you use so your followers and mutuals can know

[hottiesforhockey]

ultimate girl boss ⎜l.hughes

pairings: luke hughes x afab!reader genre: romance ⎜smut ⎜ strangers-to-lovers? ⎜ warnings: mentions of alcohol ⎜oral (f!recieving) ⎜ use of pet names (princes) ⎜ kitchen sex ⎜ one night stand ⎜fingering ⎜ p in v ⎜luke is a bit of a dork ⎜ he falls first and he falls harder ⎜size kink...kinda? ⎜mentions of pain with sex ⎜both luke and the reader love the miscommunication trope ⎜ short and sweet tbh ⎜ synopsis: you know you shouldn't have slept with a player, but it's not like you'd really see him again, right? word count: 7.7k authors note:  this was a top contender in my what to finish next poll so I hope you all enjoy!!

(unedited)

“I want to thank everyone for being here tonight — and want to say I’m sure we’re all excited to kick off our first ever staff and players halloween party.” Your friend says into the mic, everyone letting out cheers in response, “I know we usually have seperate parties but this year we want the staff and players to really get to know each other and what better way to do that then by getting completely hammered with each other.” He says says letting out a soft cheer when the rest of the room stays quiet, the hushed chuckle here and there. “Anyway I hope everyone has fun and please remember an open bar doesn’t mean you can damage property, I’m looking at you Timo.” You clap slowly as your friend climbs down from his spot on the bar table, his cheeks flushed a bright red as he joins you in leaning against the bar. 

“That felt awkward — did it look awkward?” He asks slowly, accepting the beer bottle from the bar tender with a grimace. 

“It did look awkward.” You agree, taking a sip of your lemonade reaching over to pat his hand softly in reassurance, “Dawson everyone loves you because you’re awkward so don’t think too much about it.” Dawson perks up as one of his teammates calls his name, bounding away from the bar his hair fanning out from under his cap.  You’re still smiling to yourself when someone slides into the spot Dawson left open.

“You really sticking to lemonade all night?” a familiar voice says, smooth and amused, cutting through the music and chatter around you. You glance sideways — and there he is. Luke Hughes. In a bright green shirt, overalls, and a little green hat with a giant “L” on it. Luigi. Of course.

You can’t help but laugh. “I don’t know if I’m more surprised you’re dressed as Luigi or that Jack actually agreed to be Mario.”

Luke’s grin is boyish and crooked, the kind of grin that makes trouble look like a good idea. “Trust me, it wasn’t easy. Took a week of convincing and a few beers.”

“And here I thought sibling pressure only worked on younger brothers.”

He leans an elbow on the bar, watching you with a playful glint in his eye. “Oh, it definitely works both ways. Besides, you can’t be Mario without Luigi. We’re a package deal.”

“Cute,” you say, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m sure jack’s girlfriend thinks the same.” You tease, both of you glancing over at the tall blonde dressed as Princess Peach, the girl sticking close to her boyfriend’s side as he mingles with his teammates. “You didn’t want to stick with you ‘package deal’?” 

Luke smirks, tapping a finger against the bar. “Jack likes to wander off — probably challenging someone to a drinking game.”

“Sounds about right.” You pause, letting your eyes sweep over him. “So, what? You decided to make rounds as everyone’s favourite sidekick?”

His smile widens. “Who says I’m a sidekick?”

You arch a brow. “You are Luigi.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m just here to rescue Princess Peach,” he teases, leaning in a little, you shoot a questioning gaze over to his brothers girlfriend. 

“She does look like she needs saving.” 

He shakes his head with a smile as his voice lowers, playful but laced with something that makes your heart skip. “Or maybe I’m here to make sure someone’s getting to know the players, like Dawson said.”

Your pulse jumps at his proximity, but you keep your cool. “So, I’m the metaphorical Peach in this scenario?”

Luke’s eyes flicker with amusement, lingering on yours for a beat too long. “Would that be so bad?”

You tilt your head, pretending to consider. “Hmm. I don’t know. I’ve always been more of a Toad kind of girl.”

He laughs, shaking his head, the sound warm and genuine. “Yeah? I can see that.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Luke raises both hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Nothing. Just that you’d make a pretty cute Peach, too.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no hiding your smile. “Is this how you plan to win me over? Bad Mario references?”

“Is it working?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you finish your drink, set the glass on the bar, and meet his gaze head-on.

“Maybe.”

His grin sharpens. “Then I guess I’ll keep going.”

You let the word hang between you for a beat, the teasing lilt of your voice lingering in the air. Luke watches you, his grin never quite fading, a flicker of curiosity sparking in his dark eyes. The party buzzes on around you both—music pulsing, laughter spilling from groups of people in costumes, but none of it seems to matter right now.

“So,” he says, tapping his knuckles lightly on the bar, “you planning on heading out early, or are you here for the long haul?” You glance around the room, spotting Dawson across the way engaged in an animated conversation with another teammate. A few more familiar faces pass by, offering smiles and nods, but your attention drifts back to Luke almost immediately.

“Honestly?” You shrug, a casual, playful expression crossing your face. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Luke leans in a little closer, elbows resting on the bar. “What would it take to convince you to stick around?”

You give him a slow, considering look, letting the question settle in your mind before answering. “Depends. What’s in it for me?”

He laughs, low and soft, shaking his head. “That’s a dangerous question.”

“Maybe I like danger.”

Luke’s gaze lingers, his smile never wavering. “Alright. What if I promised to make it worth your while?”

You raise an eyebrow, amusement flickering across your face. “Big promises from Luigi.”

“I deliver on my promises.” He pauses, his voice dropping slightly, a teasing edge in his tone. “Especially when it comes to rescuing princesses.”

The playful banter between you feels like a dance, each word carefully chosen, each glance lingering just a fraction too long. There’s a buzz in the air—a tension that neither of you seems in a rush to break.

“Alright, Luigi,” you say, setting your empty glass down on the bar. “Convince me.” Luke doesn’t take long to whisk you to the dance floor, the lanky man awkwardly moving his limbs along yours, the smile lighting up his face convincing others to join in, the dance floor filling up quickly. 

Luke’s hands stay linked with yours as he spins you around, twisting your bodies totally off beat, “White girl dancing is my favourite.” He yells over the music, his movements mimicking the slow, seductive sways of a sorority girl. 

“I can tell.” You laugh, your eye catching Dawson’s over the crowd as he pumps his eyebrows in knowing, your shoulders shrugging as you lose yourself back in the feeling of Luke’s god awful dancing. 

It’s two hours before you pull yourself away from the crowd, Luke following behind you like a lost puppy as you reach the bar, skulling the glass of water the bartender offers you. “So, have I convinced you to stay?” Luke smiles, leaning against the counter as he accepts his own glass of water. 

“I suppose.” You smile, placing your empty glass back on the table as you rifle through your purse for your keys. You glance up at Luke his face dropping as you watches you gather your stuff, your witch hat sitting on the bar as you check you have all your belongings. 

“I guess my convincing wasn’t good enough.” He sighs, trying to keep a light smile on his face so you can’t see the disappointment in his eyes. Luke was having fun, finally being able to seperate himself from his brother, he thought you were having fun too - the pretty girl from the head offices finally letting loose all because cause of the borderline frat boy dressed as Luigi. 

But clearly he was wrong. 

“I guess I’ll see you around.” He says, watching as you tilt your head, your brows furrowing as you chew on your bottom lip. 

“Wow, didn’t know you wanted to get rid of me so quickly.” You tease, reaching up for the collar of his costume pulling him down until his ear is level with your mouth, “I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me.” You whisper, Luke’s spine straightening quickly, his eyes locking with yours in surprise. “Guess I know where you stand now, Luigi.” You sigh dramatically, making the move to turn and walk out when his hand latches to your wrist. 

“Wait…Wait…” He stutters, his brows still pinched in confusion, “You want me to come home with you?” 

You quirk a brow, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. "Why else would I ask? To play Mario Kart?" Luke looks momentarily stunned, his hand tightening slightly around your wrist before he catches himself and lets go, running a hand through his messy hair beneath the green cap. He swallows hard, the playful confidence from earlier faltering just a little, replaced by something more raw, more unsure.

Maybe he wasn’t wrong after all. 

“I—I didn’t think…” He trails off, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your mouth and back again, as if trying to gauge if you're serious or just messing with him.

You lean in again, your voice soft but unmistakably deliberate. "What, you didn’t think I’d actually be interested?" His lips part slightly, but no words come out. The party noise seems to fade into the background — the music, the laughter, the clinking of glasses all muffling under the pounding of your heart in your ears.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been watching me tonight,” you say, your voice low but steady, your eyes locked on his.

“And I’m not blind, Luke. You’ve been flirting since the second you walked over here in that ridiculous costume.”

His cheeks flush a deep pink, but that boyish, crooked grin of his creeps back onto his face. “Maybe I have.”

“And maybe I don’t want the night to end just yet,” you say, your fingers brushing against his arm, trailing down until your hand rests lightly on his wrist again. The tension is thick now — electric and undeniable. Luke steps in closer, closing the space between you. His voice drops to a low murmur, just for you. 

“If I say yes, I’m not just coming over for coffee.”

You bite back a grin, eyes flickering to his lips before meeting his gaze again. “Good. I don’t even have coffee at home.” That does it — the playful edge in his grin gives way to something hungrier, more intense. His hand finds your hip, fingers pressing lightly through the fabric of your dress. 

“I’ve never liked coffee anyway.” The air between you hums with anticipation, both of you lingering in that charged moment, knowing exactly what’s coming but savouring the tension for just a little longer.

“Come on, Luigi,” you whisper, stepping back and tugging him toward the door. “Time to see if you really deliver on your promises.” Luke follows without hesitation, his hand still wrapped around yours, the warmth of his palm grounding you both in the moment. As you weave through the crowd, you catch Dawson’s wide-eyed expression from across the room. He mouths what the fuck? at you, but you just flash him a grin over your shoulder. Outside, the cool night air hits your skin, but you barely notice. Luke’s presence next to you, the way his fingers tighten around yours, the way his arm brushes against yours as you walk to your car — it’s all-consuming.

“So,” he says after a beat, voice lighter now but still laced with that playful tension. “Does this mean I’m officially more than just a sidekick?”

You glance up at him as you unlock your car, the smirk on your lips teasing but your gaze soft. “Depends.”

“On what?”

You step in closer, your body nearly pressed against his. “On how well you play the hero.”

Luke leans down, his face inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m pretty sure I can pull it off.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” It’s all the invitation he needs. His hands cup your face as he closes the gap, his lips finding  yours with a mix of urgency and sweetness that leaves you breathless. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing — just the two of you, completely lost in each other.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathless, his forehead resting against yours.

“Better than Mario Kart?” he whispers, his voice rough and a little unsteady.

You laugh softly, fingers curling into the fabric of his overalls to keep him close. “Much better.”

Luke grins, his eyes dark with desire but softened by something more genuine beneath it all. “Good. Because I’m not done rescuing you yet.”

You press one more lingering kiss to his lips before stepping back and opening the car door. “Then let’s get out of here, hero.” As he climbs into the passenger seat, pulling the ridiculous green hat off and tossing it into the backseat with a chuckle, you can’t help but think that maybe — just maybe — this Halloween party wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Luke settles into the passenger seat, stretching his long legs out with a playful groan. His hair is a mess from the hat, sticking up in every direction, and he looks ridiculously good like that — a little wild, a little disheveled. You catch him watching you as you adjust the rearview mirror, his grin lopsided and lazy, the kind of smile that makes your pulse race.

“You’ve got that look on your face again,” you say, glancing at him as you start the car.

“What look?”

“That ‘what the fuck is happening’ look.”

Luke laughs, low and warm, running a hand through his hair to smooth it down. “I can’t believe this is happening, to be fair.” His voice low as he adds, “The ultimate girl boss is inviting me home — maybe I will have to thank Dawson for the party idea.”

"Don't call me that." you say as you roll your eyes, but there’s no denying the butterflies in your stomach. As you pull out of the parking lot, the conversation flows easily. Luke teases you about your driving — “Are you always this aggressive behind the wheel, or is this just a Halloween thing?” — and you fire back with playful jabs about his costume. The sexual tension from the party hasn’t faded; if anything, it’s simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to boil over.

When you reach your apartment, Luke follows you up the stairs, his fingers brushing yours as you unlock the door. The quiet click of the door shutting behind you seems to amplify the tension in the air.

“So, this is it?” he says, glancing around your cozy living room. He looks a little out of place in the Luigi costume, but there’s something endearing about it — like he doesn’t care how ridiculous he looks.

“This is it,” you say, kicking off your shoes and setting your keys on the counter. “Make yourself at home.” Luke takes his time wandering through the space, his fingers trailing over the back of your couch, his gaze flicking to the framed photos on the wall. When he turns back to you, there’s a softness in his expression, but his eyes are still dark with something more.

“You weren’t kidding about the no coffee thing,” he says, peering into the kitchen.

“Told you.”

He steps closer, his footsteps quiet on the hardwood floor. “So, what do you have?”

You lean against the counter, tilting your head. “Depends. What are you in the mood for?”

Luke’s lips twitch into a grin as he closes the distance between you. “I think you already know.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding as he stops in front of you, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating off him. His hands find the counter on either side of you, effectively caging you in.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all night,” he says softly, his voice low and rough. “I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or if you were actually interested.”

Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter, your breath catching. “What do you think?”

Luke’s gaze drops to your mouth, lingering for a beat before meeting your eyes again. “I think I’m done guessing.”

His lips are on yours before you can respond, the kiss slow and deliberate, like he’s savouring the taste of you. His hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you let yourself melt into him, your fingers tangling in his hair. The kiss deepens, your bodies pressed together, and you lose yourself in the feeling of his hands exploring your back, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck. Every touch, every kiss, feels like a spark igniting something inside you.

“Luke…” His name slips from your lips in a breathless whisper, and he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. “I hope to god you know how to take a corset off.” Luke’s soft laugh captures your breath as his hands spin your around till you face the counter. 

“One thing about hockey players is we’re good with laces.” He says quietly, making quick work of undoing the ribbon on the back of your corset, letting the faux leather fall off your body once the laces are loose enough, your dress sitting over your frame loosely as Luke’s hands run up your sides. 

“Do you want me to show you something else that hockey players are good at?” Luke asks softly, his lips skimming just under your ear as you nod. Luke moving your quickly as he spins you back around the face him, leaning forwards to capture your lips in a quick kiss before dropping to his knees in front of you, his hands pulling the fabric over your dress up to your waist, motion for you to grip it with your own hands. 

“I need you to stay still for me, Princess.” He coos, his fingers linking in the waistband of your panties before dragging them down your legs, his hands slowly reaching up to rub against the soft skin of your thighs, the plush flesh tensing under his touch. He leans forwards swiping a tentative lick against you, his eyes turned up to yours, watching you as your eyes fall closed, your hands gripping the fabric of your dress for dear life. Happy with your reaction he delves forwards, his tongue pressing flat against you as his nose bumps against your swelling clit. His hands trail softly up the backs of your thighs, over your ass until they sit comfortably on your hips. 

You whimper as he pulls your cunt firmer against his face, his head moving as his tongue circles around your clit, teasing before he sucks the bud into his mouth. “Fuck.” You curse, your back curving against the counter until your resting on your elbows, your head thrown back.. You can feel Lukes’s crooked grin against you as one of his hand drops to lift your thigh, draping the limb over his shoulder opening you up further for him. Luke’s movements become quicker, more feverish as his tongue dips inside you for just a moment before licking back up to your clit. 

“Are fingers allowed, princess?” He questions softly, as he pulls his face away from your cunt much to your dismay, his eyes teasing as you nod quickly, your lip trapped between your teeth as he slides one finger between your folds, gathering any juices he could before slowly pushing the single digit inside of you. 

“God, I can feel how desperate you are.” He coos as you clench around his single finger, a loud branch snapping outside of the shed making you jump, his finger sliding out of you slightly before sliding back in to the third knuckle, Luke chuckling as he presses a kiss against the thigh hanging over his shoulder. “Surprised?” He questions. 

You barely getting a chance to respond, as he sucks your clit sharply releasing it with a grin as you let out a low whine as he presses his thumb harshly against your clit, his fingers calling at just the right time, your cunt clenching so forcefully he lets out a surprised laugh. He pauses his movements for a moment, watching the way you pant as you come down from your orgasm, whispering his name. 

“Jesus, Luke.”

“Don’t praise me yet.” He whispers as he slides your leg off his shoulder, slowly rising to his full height as he towers over you, pushing you further against the counter, “I’m not finished with you.” Luke spins you for the third time of the night, your hands bracing against the counter as you pant, Luke snatching your dress from your hands as he pulls it up and over your head, your breasts falling free as he presses you against the cold kitchen counter. 

“You’re stunning.” He murmurs as his hands make quick work of unbuttoning his overalls, letting them fall to the ground as he steps out of them, your breaths coming faster as you feel his body pressing against yours. His hands slide over your waist, tracing the curve of your hips, before gripping firmly. He’s warm, solid, and the intensity in his gaze when you glance back at him is enough to set your skin ablaze.

Luke leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, voice husky and teasing. “You sure you’re ready for this, Princess?”

You nod, pushing back against him slightly, your body arching into his touch. “I wouldn’t have invited you here if I wasn’t.”

He groans softly, his hands steadying you as he presses a line of kisses along your shoulder and down your back, his lips trailing fire over your skin. His movements are purposeful but unhurried, each touch and kiss designed to build the anticipation thrumming between you. When you feel the tip of his arousal teasing against your entrance, your breath hitches, and he pauses, his fingers tightening on your hips.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your skin.

You turn your head slightly, meeting his eyes over your shoulder. “I’ll let you know.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushes into you, both of you gasping at the sensation. He fills you completely, stretching you in a way that’s almost overwhelming but impossibly good. Your eyes squeeze shut as you let out a harsh breath, Luke pausing once he’s fully seated, giving you a moment to adjust, his hand smoothing over your lower back in silent reassurance.

“You okay?” He asks softly, his lips pressing gently to your neck as he waits for you to relax, your pussy squeezing him as you nod your head slowly, letting it drop against the counter. 

“I just need a second.” You hiss, “It always hurts at first.” You add, focusing on your breathing and relaxing your pelvis as Luke tilts his head in confusion, his hands still rubbing against you tenderly. 

“Do you want me to pull out?” He asks carefully, unsure how to help as you adjust a little more, a relieved sigh leaving you as you glance over your shoulder to smile at him. 

“You can move.” You assure him. Luke nods slowly, his movements careful as he puts out and pushes back in, the pain shifting deep in the pit of your stomach as you let out a soft moan. 

“You feel…” he starts, his voice thick with restraint. “Perfect.” You can barely respond, your mind hazy with the pleasure coursing through you. When he starts moving, it’s slow and steady, each thrust measured and deliberate. He watches your reactions closely, the way your body responds to him, the soft sounds that escape your lips.

“Luke,” you whisper, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter for support as he quickens his pace. His name on your lips seems to spur him on, his rhythm becoming more urgent, his grip on your hips firm but not painful. The tension between you builds with every movement, the sensation almost too much to bear. He leans forward, his chest engulfing you as he presses against your back as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you upright. The new angle has you crying out, your head falling back against his shoulder as he buries his face in your neck, his lips and teeth teasing your skin.

“God, you feel so good,” he murmurs, his voice a mix of awe and desire. “You’re incredible.”

The praise only heightens the sensations coursing through you, your body trembling as you feel yourself nearing the edge. He seems to sense it, his movements becoming even more focused, his free hand sliding down to where your bodies are joined to circle your sensitive clit.

“Come for me,” he urges, his voice low and rough. “I want to feel you.” It’s all you need. The coil of pleasure tightens and then snaps, waves of bliss crashing over you as you cry out his name, your body tightening around him. He follows shortly after, his pace faltering as he lets out a low groan, his grip on you tightening as he finds his release.

For a moment, neither of you moves, your breaths mingling as you both come down from the high. Luke presses a kiss to your shoulder, his touch suddenly gentle as he leans against you. Luke places one more kiss to your shoulder, before standing up, your body seeming to melt further into the counter as he pulls out - your body cringing as it tries to adjust to the feeling. You take a few more breaths as you listen to Luke pull off the condom and walk across the room to place it in the bin. 

Luke leans against the counter, his hands gripping the edge as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. His overalls hang low on his hips, his green shirt untucked and rumpled. He hasn’t said much since pulling away, and now the silence between you feels heavy, like a weight pressing against your chest.

You finish slipping your dress back over your head, your fingers fidgeting with the hem as you glance his way. He’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable but not indifferent. You can tell there’s something he wants to say, but he doesn’t. Instead, he clears his throat and straightens up, his hands disappearing into his pockets.

"I should probably get going," he says softly, his voice careful, like he’s testing the words out loud.

The tightness in your chest sharpens. You knew this moment was coming—the logical end to what just happened—but it still hits you harder than you expected. You hesitate, watching as he takes a small step toward the door.

"Wait," you blurt out, your voice louder than you intended. He stops immediately, turning to face you, his brow furrowing.

"Yeah?" he asks, and you can hear the note of uncertainty in his voice.

Your heart pounds as you scramble to find the right words, suddenly feeling exposed in a way that has nothing to do with your now-rumpled dress. "You don’t… you don’t have to go," you say quickly, stumbling over the words. "I mean, it’s late, and…"

Luke’s eyes widen slightly, and you can see something flicker across his face—relief? Hope? He blinks, and his lips part like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t. You push on, needing to fill the silence.

"You could stay," you continue, your cheeks flushing. "If you want to. I mean, it’s just… it’s late, and I drove you here anyway—“

"I’d like that," he interrupts, his voice soft but firm.

You stop mid-ramble, staring at him. "You would?"

Luke nods, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He takes a step closer, his hands still buried in his pockets. "Yeah," he says quietly. "I didn’t really want to leave, anyway."

The admission makes your stomach flip, and you glance down, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Okay," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "You can stay."

He watches you for a moment longer, his gaze warm and steady, before he nods again. "Thanks," he says simply, but there’s a weight behind the word that makes your chest tighten in a different way.

You gesture toward the bedroom, your throat dry as you try to keep your voice casual. "Uh, the bed’s big enough… if you’re okay with sharing." Luke’s eyebrows lift slightly, and for a second, you wonder if you’ve made things weird. But then he smiles—soft and genuine—and the tension in your chest eases.

"I’m okay with that," he says, his voice light but sincere.

You nod, turning toward the bedroom. "Okay. I’ll just… get things sorted."

As you step into the room, Luke follows, his footsteps quiet on the hardwood floor. You pull back the covers, smoothing them out as if that will somehow make you feel less nervous. When you glance over your shoulder, he’s standing by the doorway, hesitating.

"You sure?" he asks, his voice quieter now.

You meet his gaze and manage a small smile. "Yeah," you say softly. "I’m sure." That seems to be all the reassurance he needs. He steps inside, pulling off his overalls completely and leaving them in a heap on the floor. His green shirt is next to go, his unsurprisingly toned chest making you swallow heavily,  only left in his boxers now, and somehow, the casualness of it makes you feel less self-conscious.

You both climb into the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. For a few moments, neither of you speaks, lying side by side with a cautious amount of space between you. But then, slowly, Luke shifts closer, his arm brushing yours.

"Thanks for asking me to stay," he murmurs, his voice so low it’s almost a whisper. You turn your head to look at him, your face so close to his that you can see the faint freckles scattered across his nose. 

"I didn’t really want you to leave," you admit quietly.

His lips curve into a soft smile, and he reaches out, his fingers brushing yours under the blanket. "Good," he says, his voice warm. "Because I really didn’t want to."

The two of you end up tangled in each other throughout the night, Lukes arm draped over your waist as he drags you across the mattress to press against him, his face tucked into your neck as your relax into the warmth of his chest. 

When you wake up the warmth is gone, the mattress is empty and a small post it note sits on the pillow besides you. 

‘I had fun last night, had to leave early for practice, sorry.’ 

The cold sheets isn’t a surprise as you throw the note across the room, Luke doing exactly you expected the hot shot hockey player to do. 

+

+

“I can’t believe we have to do another company get together.” You huff as you readjust your hair in it’s ponytail for the tenth time, Dawson bouncing besides you in excitement. “And a hike? Who do they think we are? Athletes?” You continue your frown deepening as you watch the tall, curly haired hockey player interact with one of your colleagues a few metres away, his smile lighting up the group around him. 

“Well some of us are athletes.” Dawson teases as he bumps his shoulder into yours, his gaze following yours, a mischievous grin breaking out across his face. “It’s been three months since the halloween party, I think we’re overdue for an outing.” Dawson starts slowly, your gaze flicking over to him, the small cogs in your brain turning as you feel the panic begin to set in. 

“Dawson, don’t you dare.” But he’s already gone, stepping up onto a big rock as he calls attention to himself. 

“I thought it might be good for each of us players to pair up with one of our lovely office workers to really get the full effect of the company bonding.” He suggests, your heart dropping to your stomach as everyone quickly agrees, already spreading themselves out as each player finds someone to team up with, your boss quickly snatching Dawson off his rock as you watch the curly haired man’s blue-green eyes meet yours. 

“Thank me later.” Dawson coos as he starts up the mountain, his arm linked with your boss’s as they ramble as they walk. 

“I’m going to kill that man in his slee— oh hey Luke.” 

“Hey, I um… noticed you didn’t have a partner?” He says, well questions, his brows pinched tight as he studies your body, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, you gaze anywhere but on him. Luke motions for you to start following the rest of your colleagues up the trail before quickly matching your pace, walking besides you easily with his long legs. 

The cool spring air brushes against your skin as you step onto the trail, the sound of chatter and boots hitting the dirt path filling the air. The company hike was supposed to be a casual event, a chance to mingle with colleagues, relax, and get away from the office for a few hours. But, as usual, it feels a little more complicated than it should be.

You glance around the small group you’ve been assigned to — everyone seems in high spirits, laughing and chatting, but you can’t help but feel a sense of discomfort. You’ve been quiet, your mind occupied with thoughts that don’t seem to want to let go.

The trail twists up ahead, and you can feel the weight of someone’s gaze on you. When you glance to the side, you see Luke walking beside you, looking every bit the confident, carefree guy he usually is. But today, there's something different about him. He’s watching you with an expression that seems to mix curiosity and confusion. It’s the kind of look you know too well — the one that tells you he’s trying to figure something out, trying to read you, but doesn’t quite know where to start.

You quickly avert your eyes, focusing on the path ahead, pretending to be absorbed in the beauty of the trail. The last thing you want right now is to deal with whatever this... thing is between you two. Whatever it was that happened the night of the Halloween party, whatever moment was shared between you, has left a lingering tension in the air. It’s subtle but undeniable, and the last few months have been filled with an awkward distance you’re both trying (and failing) to navigate.

Luke seems to notice your change in demeanour right away. You can feel the shift in the atmosphere, the way his presence suddenly feels more pronounced. He slows his pace just slightly, a move that draws you out of your own head, and when you glance at him, he’s giving you that familiar, crooked smile.

"So," he says casually, his hands resting loosely in the pockets of his jacket. "You’ve been awfully quiet today. Everything okay?"

You shrug, your eyes ahead as you force your voice to sound casual, "Yeah, just... tired, I guess."

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Uh-huh." He pauses for a moment, then adds, "Because you’re usually pretty chatty on these things." The gentle teasing in his voice stings more than it should, but you keep your expression neutral, refusing to let him see the way his words unsettle you. 

"Guess I’m just not feeling it today,” you reply with a half-smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

You know he doesn’t buy it — Luke’s not an idiot. He’s seen you in better moods, and knows enough about you from all of his desperate attempts at reconnecting with you through Dawson, that he knows enough to notice the shift in your behaviour toward him. 

Ever since that night, things have been... different. After everything that happened between you two, it felt like one of you was always pulling back, unsure of how to move forward. For you, the uncertainty of the night, the chemistry, and the suddenness of it all left you second-guessing yourself. You never really figured out where you stood with him after that.

Luke takes a deep breath, then breaks the silence with another question, his voice more carefully measured this time, "Is this because of... what happened, that night?"

Your heart skips a beat. You stop in your tracks, suddenly feeling like the ground beneath you has shifted. You don’t want to face this. Not here, not now. But you can’t deny that Luke’s words have hit a nerve, and the air between you both grows thick with unspoken tension.

"Don’t..." you begin, but your voice falters before you can finish. You feel exposed, like a part of you that you’ve kept hidden is being laid bare for him to see.

Luke notices the shift instantly. He takes a half step toward you, a small frown pulling at the edges of his mouth. "I didn’t mean to make things weird," he says quietly, his voice softening in that way it does when he’s being sincere. "I just... don’t get it. You’ve been acting different lately, and I’m not sure why. After that night, it felt like... like something happened, and I guess I’ve just been waiting for you to say something."

You bite your lip, feeling the weight of his words settle on your chest. 

He’s right. 

Things have been different. But you’re not sure how to explain it to him, not when everything you’re feeling seems to clash with what’s happening in your head.

"You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?" His words aren’t accusatory, just observant, and it makes something inside you twist painfully.

You nod, the truth hanging between you both in that awkward silence. You don’t know how to explain the mix of emotions swirling inside you. Part of you wants to laugh it off, pretend it’s nothing, but the other part of you feels the sting of being too close to him and too unsure of where to stand.

Luke takes a step closer, and you can feel the weight of his presence, his eyes not leaving yours. "I didn’t think I’d made you uncomfortable," he says quietly, the tone of his voice softer than usual. "I thought... maybe you had fun. I thought we had fun."

The way he says it, so uncertain, so vulnerable, makes your heart ache. "We did," you reply, barely above a whisper. “You could’ve woken me up before you left, you know?” The words are out of your mouth before you can shove them back in, Luke pausing, his stop forcing you to stop walking as well. 

His mouth drops open as he shoots you a dumbfounded look, “Are you kidding me?” He lets out a shocked laugh before adding, “You didn’t even bother to call me - it’s been three months and you’re holding a grudge because I had to leave early but don’t see anything wrong with you just blatantly ignoring my phone number?” 

“Call you?” Your body almost recoils in shock as you look up at him in confusion. “How was I supposed to call you?” 

Luke looks equally as confused now, his hands perched on his hips as the two of you just stare at each other. “Did you not look on the back of the sticky note?” He asks softly, his face relaxing in understanding as everything seems to click into place. 

You blink at him, still unsure of what he's talking about. “Back of the note?” you echo, your voice unsure, as if you’re not quite processing what he’s saying. You’re trying to piece things together, but it's all so disorienting. This whole conversation feels like a game of telephone gone wrong, and you’ve missed the message completely.

Luke's face softens as if a realisation is dawning on him, a quiet chuckle slipping from his lips as he steps a little closer. “Yeah, you know,” he says, his hands sliding into the pockets of his jacket, “the sticky note I left you the morning after Halloween.” He watches your reaction closely, his eyes flicking from your face to your stiffened posture, noting the way you're not quite meeting his gaze. "I thought it would be pretty obvious..."

You shake your head slowly, heart sinking in your chest. This doesn’t make sense. “I… I didn’t even notice anything on the back.”

Luke tilts his head, eyebrows knitting together as though he's trying to process your words. “Are you serious?” he asks, though not unkindly. He sounds almost amused, but it’s the kind of amusement that’s mixed with a touch of disbelief. You blink, a wave of realisation hitting you, but it doesn’t make things clearer—if anything, it only makes them more confusing. The night of the Halloween party, everything had been a blur after… after what happened between you and Luke. You'd woken up alone, with no trace of him. The only thing you had found was that stupid post it note on your pillow. You’d glanced at it, but in your haze of confusion and disappointment, you had dismissed it as just a random note, trying to rid himself of the guilt of walking out after your night together. You never once thought it would have his number on it.

“I thought you were gone,” you murmur, still not fully understanding. “You just… disappeared. After that night.”Luke’s face softens, his expression shifting from confusion to something quieter, more patient. 

“I didn’t disappear, I just—” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “I didn’t want to wake you up. You were sleeping, and most people don’t want to wake up at five in the morning, and I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to see me again after everything. So I thought… I thought the note would be enough. I thought you’d get it.”

You feel the blood rush to your face, the weight of misunderstanding suddenly crashing down on you. That note. All these months, you had been carrying the confusion, the anger, the hurt of what you assumed was his rejection. All this time, you’d believed that he had left without a word, leaving you to overthink every moment, to wonder what went wrong, why it all felt so unfinished. But it wasn’t rejection. It was a miscommunication, a simple mistake in the way you both had handled things.

“I never saw it,” you say quietly, the words almost feeling foreign in your mouth. “I thought… I thought you just left. You had got what you wanted and left.” Luke exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair, a small, sheepish laugh escaping him. 

"Well, now I feel like an idiot." He glances down, clearly embarrassed at how the situation has unfolded, and you see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he’s trying to navigate this, just like you.

“I mean, I should’ve told you,” he continues, his voice softening. “I should’ve woken you up, but I didn’t want to make things awkward if you weren’t interested. I didn’t want to push it if that wasn’t what you wanted.” The words settle between you both, and you feel the air shift, the distance that has been between you for months beginning to dissipate, just a little. The weight in your chest lightens as you finally start to understand what happened, what you both had been too afraid to face, too unsure to talk about.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the apology slipping from your lips before you can stop it. “I should’ve paid more attention.”

Luke shrugs, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “No need to apologise. It’s just... both of us being kind of ridiculous, isn’t it?” His smile widens, but it’s not the same playful, confident grin you’re used to seeing. It’s more real, more raw. “I thought you were just avoiding me for some reason, and here you were thinking I ghosted you.”

You let out a small laugh, though it’s mixed with a breath of relief. “I guess we were both just avoiding the obvious.”

“Yeah,” Luke agrees, his voice easing with the tension. He takes a small step closer, his eyes locking with yours as he lowers his hands from his pockets. “So, now what?”

The question hangs in the air, and you find yourself looking up at him, the distance between you shrinking with every word you say. You take a deep breath, suddenly realising how much this conversation, how much this moment, has been long overdue. The walls you’ve both built around each other are crumbling, slowly but surely.

“Well,” you begin, trying to gather your thoughts as you look at Luke. He’s standing so close now, and despite the lingering awkwardness, there’s something about him that feels more approachable, more open. "I think... maybe we need to stop assuming things about each other. Because, honestly, I had no idea what you were thinking. And you had no idea what I was thinking. So maybe we should just start from scratch."

Luke’s face lights up, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he nods, his eyes bright with a hint of mischief. "I like that idea. Starting from scratch sounds good to me." For the first time in months, you feel a sense of relief flood your chest, the tension between you two breaking apart. . 

“Yeah,” you reply, returning his smile. “How about we start by you giving me your number?”

Luke laughs, the sound light and easy now. “Sure, let’s take our time. But don’t go ghosting me.”

“No more ghosting,” you agree, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you start walking again, side by side.

As you continue up the trail, the tension that once felt so heavy now seems almost silly. What had felt like an insurmountable distance between you two has suddenly shrunk, and you can’t help but wonder how different things might’ve been if you’d both just taken a moment to talk. But for now, you’re content with where you are — a little wiser, a little closer, and finally ready to leave the past behind.

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Paint Me Red

Synopsis: You and Damian like horror movies for the same reason.

Pairing: Dark!Damian Wayne X Dark!AFAB!Gn!Reader

Tw: 18+ pwp; Kinda gore?; Cannibalism kink? Definitely hinted; Biting link; Blood kink; Fingering; Watching straight porn; Torture porn? It's all fake and no one’s suffering; Pain kink maybe; They are freaks and they are in love; Worshipping?; A hint of love-bombing? I repeat, they're freaks and they're in love, your honor; Mention of hipersexuality; Damian enjoys pain, gore and death, despite not killing anymore, Reader likes it too; Reader has long hair and is implied to be wearing a shirt or dress with straps and bare thighs; English isn't my first language.

Word count: 1,2k

Requested? No.

Extra notes: Inspired by the movie May and everyone who yaps about yandere!Damian being cannibal coded. I also love when someone writes Damian a little psycho, a little sadomasochist. And a Damian who worships his S/O is the best Damian!!! I recommend reading this while listening to Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge. Not sure I like my writing here tho, especially the title, there were many good options that also seemed bad options

General masterlist

Damian was odd, you knew it from the start. Everyone who interacts with him knows it from the start.

That didn't stop you from being flustered when he confessed his — in his actual words — all consuming, undying love. You never thought anyone would actually use those words while declaring their feelings for someone, but as always with him, Damian was different.

And maybe you were different too.

You came back from your weekly date with him to the apartament you recently started sharing, despite being so young and having been dating for only a month when he asked. Your friends called it love-bombing. You had never heard of a more romantic term.

He took you to the bedroom as soon as you crossed the threshold, excited about a surprise he planned for you, but there was nothing different there, until he pulled his laptop out, fiddled with something, connected to the overhead projector you bought once on a whim, after watching a tiktok, only to realize it wasn't any better than just watching on your television or laptop. At least it wasn't as expensive as one would think.

Regardless, you still used it sometimes, even if for the sake of being spontaneous — and making your money worth it —, and your boyfriend was clearly looking for that.

You sat on the edge of the bed, and in less than a minute, Damian was sitting beside you, while a weird video started playing.

— I found it online, beloved. — Damian explained. — A short film, made by a group of independent artists, I think. — You nodded along, this level of cinephilia was not exactly your thing, but you did enjoy watching movies and leaving reviews on Letterboxd, if it caught Damian's interest, then it must be something.

— Yeah, very Texas Chainsaw Massacre. — You commented, not because it actually looked to be a horror movie, but more because of the quality of the camera, the eery atmosphere, and the scenario being filmed in the middle of nowhere. It seemed like an actually calm movie, but you knew something was up, there was only a young couple having a cute picnic.

Damian looked at you with wide, almost innocent eyes, boyish excitement coupled with some glint you couldn't identify.

— Exactly!

You felt some satisfaction and pride. You were the one who presented him with the classic slasher movies — one of your favorite genres — and were surprised by his eager acceptance of them, since a lot of them didn't have much quality. But he seemed interested in the death scenes and gore. Maybe it was the remnants of his childhood on him, but you didn't have that past and still related to him, much to his delight. He also commented about how unreal a lot of it was, from experience, no doubt.

It was almost cute. And hot.

Damian's hand laid on your thigh, while his thumb started rolling circles on your bare skin.

You let out a gasp when the girl in the movie, out of nowhere, bit hard on her boyfriend’s finger while he fed her a piece of pie with his hands. An exaggerated amount of blood started sliding down her lips and his hand, but he didn't scream, he just stared at her while she had mischief and desire in her eyes.

Damian's hand squeezed your flesh.

— How did you find this on YouTube? I'm pretty sure they wouldn't allow it there. — You wondered out loud, squeezing your thighs when the guy used his bloody hand to push the strap of her sundress down, revealing her supple breast. He leaned forward and peppered kisses down her chest, while pushing the other strap down, revealing her torso even more, until he bit her ribs’s flesh just as hard, face partially covered by her left tit.

Now, they were both smeared in lots of blood, from his hand travelling her body and the new wound.

— I did not mention YouTube. — He answered, and you hummed, paying extreme attention to the movie, intrigued, and half surprised to be turned on. But it was shallow, a thin layer of lust that went unnoticed by you, mistaken by intrigue and excitement.

You only noticed how hot you were, when Damian did the same thing to you. He slowly and deliberately got closer, pushed your hair back from your shoulder, and left wet, slow pecks down your neck, while pushing your straps down. You just stared at the images while he did his thing.

You were interrupted when he bit down on your shoulder, hard, leaving teeth marks, but not enough to bleed. You couldn't help the yelp of pain that escaped you by surprise, but didn't feel like reprimanding him when he soothed the feeling by still kissing you, and buried his hand between your legs, invading your underwear.

You opened your legs to give him more space, while your lips also parted to let out a deep breath, not out of nervousness, but anticipation. When you paid attention to the movie again, the guy was lying between the girl’s legs, leaving a nasty bite on her inner thigh. The blood dripped down and ruined her white underwear, but her boyfriend just started eating her out with the fabric still on the way.

Meanwhile, Damian played with your wet clit with his thumb while he inserted two fingers into your moist hole with ease, catching you both off guard with how wet you were with basically nothing. He had a hunch you would like his surprise, but not that much.

In need to let out some pent-up desire, he bit your flesh once more, this time above your breast. A low whimper of pain forced its way out of your throat. You looked down and noticed Damian's full-on boner.

You reached and pressed your hand against him, making him hiss and finally stop lapping at your skin, to look at you with desire. You kept eye-contact while rubbing him through his pants.

Damian pressed his lips to yours in haste, eager to taste your tongue while pumping his fingers faster and deeper against your walls, focused on abusing your sweet spot. The kiss was more sensual than ever, a dance which consisted in sharing heavy breaths, exchanged pecks, sucking lips and caressing tongues. While you both were like rabbits a third of the time, you being hipersexual and him being in love with you, the newfound shared taboo kink definitely turned things up a notch. And you expressed it by interrupting the kiss with a hard bite on his bottom lip.

Damian hissed like a cat until you let his lip go. When he glared at you, anyone would think he was livid like you just kicked his dog, but you knew him better than anyone. In fact, you were the only one to ever see him in the vulnerable side that came with intimacy, the only one he would ever want and trust to either lay beside his naked body, or willingly allow to leave a mark on his scarred flesh. Taste his muscles. Drink his blood.

He used his free hand to touch his lip, and found blood there. You licked your own, bright crimson and wet.

When he looked at you again, you wondered if you had finally ruined him for anyone else forever, and he made sure to paint both your faces red with a kiss, while he made you cum on his fingers.

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

[selarina]

Gojo Satoru x Reader (Reader wears a bikini and a dress)

A/N: Sorry for the unannounced month-long break. I've been swamped with uni work and writer's block but here's a little vacation au that's kinda based on a true story... 🫠

The start of this summer has been less than perfect. The over-rushed booking, the forgotten essentials, the shared accommodations — it was all a bit too much in the beginning but you’ve succumbed to the flow as the days unfolded. 

It was a 15-day vacation, and on your fifth day, you feel like you are approaching a state of feeling content. It’s hard not to. You’re currently ensconced on the most luxuriously soft daybed by the pool, your feet idly stretching ever so often as you sip from your ever-flowing glass of Aperol spritz. This is admittedly nice.

But while you’re involved in your own sweet languor, you fail to notice a certain peculiar white-haired figure approaching the bunch of you. 

Gradually tip-toeing his way, closer and closer, much to your friend’s concern. But he finally manages to catch your attention, all with a punctuating soft grunt. 

You look up, a bit startled but mostly annoyed at the interruption. You sit up, just a little, to get a better view of the man.

“Can we help you?” You ask. 

He’s pretty, and pale. You wonder if he’s carrying enough sunscreen for the trip.

“Yeah, hi!” He smiled. A sort of disarming smile.

“Hi,” you smile back, almost involuntarily.

“Uh, I lost a bet with my friends back there,” he spoke up, pointing back to a small cluster of people on the opposite side of the pool. “And I’m here to— Oh, I’m sorry. The sun must be bothering you.”

He steps forward, shielding you from the harsh heat the sun was inflicting upon your face. 

You resisted a smile, but it was tethering just about.

He seemed juvenile — this white-haired boy. He’s tall. Perhaps too tall. And he had this boyish look about him. In the way he stood, and moved his arms. In his smile. You wonder if he’s always like this, or if it’s just a persona he’s adopting for this vacation. 

You say this only because you are. You’re not often like this — lounging about in the sun, dressed in a white bikini with sunglasses resting on your head, with a glass in hand. This kind of nonchalance, this relaxation — it didn’t come easy to you. But you indulge in it because you can, even if just for a short while.

"You were saying?" you prompt, after existing in the long silence of him just standing in front of you.

“Oh,” he grins sheepishly. “Yeah. Well, they bet me to ask you out.”

“Oh,” you say, a bit disappointed. “Well, do you need help playing along or something?”

“No,” he says, his eyes widening at how that may have sounded. “No, they bet me to ask you out because I think you’re pretty. I saw you back at dinner last night as well. And then I saw you today. And I liked— I think you’re pretty. I liked your red dress last night.”

Your cheeks flare, and you can’t use the sun as an excuse— not when this boy graciously offered to shield you from it. “Oh, thank you,” you muttered.

He just smiled back, and you felt it’s strange how you feel no nerves right now. The last time a boy asked you out, you had run out on him. You had only approached him a week later to accept him, but by then he had moved on to sticking his tongue down another girl’s throat, but that’s hardly the point here.

“Well, what do you have in mind?” You asked, ignoring the gasp from your friend beside you. 

This must be too shocking for her, and you admit you’re just as shocked as her. But this is barely real life, it’s vacation — a sort of liminal freedom that comes with it. 

“Well, there’s this masquerade ball thing that’s happening a few streets away,” he suggests eagerly. “Live music and all that—”

“I don’t know if that’s within my budget,” you say, candidly.

“Well, it’s kinda free,” he replies, and your eyes rise up in suspicion. 

“Well, for me,” he continues. “My mother’s hosting the event, so…”

Ah, you think then. He’s one of those boys.

You don’t say anything for a bit. Thinking over whether you wanted to indulge and involve yourself with such a crowd. With such a boy.

He seemed a bit worried in your silence, so he spoke up. “But if that’s not up to your speed, I can—”

"No," you interjected, your decision swift and unwavering. "I like it. I’d love to join you."

At the sound of that he grins, a bit too widely in your opinion, but it has an endearing quality to it so you mirror his grin. 

“Fantastic!” He says, “I'll get the masks. And I’ll pick you up. It’s at 7. Ish.”

“I’ll meet you out by the reception then,” you confirm. 

A few seconds pass, and you watch as he still stands in front of you. “So, are you going to stand there until the sun sets or something?”

“Yep,” he nods. “I can do that. Well— No, I have a thing in an hour but I’ll ask my friend to take over. Don’t worry,” he shakes his head.

You chuckled in response. “Well, we were going to head back in in a bit anyway. So, I’m sure I can manage the sun till then.”

“You sure about that?” he grins.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you affirm with a wider grin.

“Okay. I’ll see you,” he waved. “At 7.”

[cookiejarwrites]

Fake Date | Part One

pairing: tim drake / red robin x fem!reader

words: 1k

a/n: Hey this is my first official post on this account so it’s kinda short. Credit to the Tim Drake A.I bot created by Fairybaby for the story idea and inspo. Sorry if he’s a little out of character. This is my first time writing for him but I tried my best. There will eventually be smut in the later chapters so pre warning there. xoxo! 💋

(aka Tim asks you to be his fake date)

Tim nearly drops to his knees, begging you, “Just one more time. I know I said that last time, but I swear. Please be my date to Bruce’s charity event. I’ll never harass you about it again. Pinky Promise.”

He holds out his pinky thumb, the gesture almost comical. He looks at you with his best puppy dog eyes, eyes wide and shimmering. The look tugs at something deep inside you. You’d long since learned that those stupid puppy eyes were a weakness of yours. You two were long time friends, originally meeting in school and instantly hitting it off. He has since entrusted you with his secret as the Red Robin, so obviously he trusted you to be his fake girlfriend for Bruce’s parties.

“Ugh, fine, but you owe me, Drake,” you finally grumble, rolling your eyes. As soon as the words leave your lips his face lights up like a Christmas tree. Before you can even get another word in he’s pulling you into a tight embrace. You feel your feet leave the ground as he lifts you, his strong arms roping themselves around your waist.

“Thank you sooo much Y/N” he says, sounding overly affectionate. He gives you a few quick squeezes before setting you down again.

“That’s what friends are for, right?” You roll your eyes again, but a small smile tugs at your lips. He grins back, ruffling your hair.

“For sure. And I’m eternally grateful to have a friend as wonderful as you.” You swat his hand in annoyance, but the warmth growing in your chest is undeniable.

“Obviously, who else would put up with your annoying ass?” You shoot back. He laughs, shaking his head with a playful smirk.

“You love it,” he teases. “You’re so tiny compared to me. I could just scoop you up and keep you in my pocket,” he cooes at you.. You scowl back at him in response.

“Not as small as your dick,” I stick my tongue out playfully.

His smirk falls into mock offense “Why, how you wound me,” He says dramatically before grabbing you around the waist and tossing you over his shoulder.

“Hey! Put me down you asshole!” you holler, struggling for a bit before giving up and going limp in his arms. He shifts you to get a better hold, then finally sets you down. He grins at your annoyed expression, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

“You’re adorable when you’re mad,” he teases, patting your head.

“I’m not adorable,” you grumble, crossing your arms infront of your chest with a huff.

“Oh, but you are,” he grins, “Admit it, you secretly love it when I pick you up.”

“Enjoy it my ass,” you retort.

“Grumble all you want, I know you love me.” He shrugs with a boyish grin that makes it hard to stay annoyed.

Only in your dreams bird boy.” I reply. He lets out a hearty laugh, his smirk widening.

“My dreams, huh?” he says, his tired eyes gleaming with mischief. He takes a step closer to you again. “You’d be surprised how often you pop up in those.” His arms snake around your waist again, tugging you flush against him. A wave of heat washes over you, cheeks reddening in response.

“Keep it to yourself,” I mutter, turning to hide my flushed face. You clear your throat in an attempt to regain composure. “What time is the party?”

“Tonight. It starts at 7, and I’ll pick you up at six.”

“Got it,” I nod, “ now I gotta figure out what the hell I’m gonna wear.” He laughs and ruffles your hair again, clearly enjoying your grumpy demeanor.

“Good luck,” he teases lightly. “Need me to help you pick out a dress?”

“Knowing you, I’d probably end up looking like a clown.” I remark with a chuckle. He feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart as if he’d been stabbed.

“Ouch, Y/N. I’m hurt you’d say such a thing. Have I ever steered you wrong?

“No, but only ‘cause I’ve never listened to your sleep-deprived advice.” I counter with a self satisfied smirk. He shakes his head slightly at my comment on his sleep.

“You’re so stubborn,” he chides, pinching your cheek like a grandma excited to see her grandkid. “One of these days you’ll take my advice, and when that day comes, I’ll rub it in your face so much you’ll have to beg me to shut up.” you push his hands away, grabbing his cheeks and pinching them just as he had done to you.

“The day I take your advice is the day I’ve officially lost my mind.” He snickers, the sound muffled slightly by your grip on his cheeks.

“Okay, timeout. Seriously, my cheeks are gonna start bleeding if you keep squeezing them like that.” You release his face and pat him on the head. He rubs his cheeks, mock-pouting as he looks at you. “That was unnecessary.” he complains before he glances up at the clock on the wall, his expression seeming to turn a bit more serious. “I’d better get going. I’ve gotta finish Bruce out with a case. I’ll pick you up at six,” he gives you a sly smirk, “and I can’t wait to see what you’ll be wearing.”

“It’ll be better than whatever you would have picked out.” You say, turning to open the door of your apartment for him. He chuckles slightly as he exits the room, shaking his head in amusement. “See ya later, Y/N.”

“Bye birdie!” You call out just as the door clicks shut behind him. You head towards your bedroom, preparing to rummage your closet for something suitable to wear. The familiar sensation of giddiness forms in your stomach at the thought of the upcoming events. You never really did enjoy Bruce’s fancy banquets and events, too many rich folks who couldn’t give less of a shit what you had to say. However, a small part of you did slightly enjoy the concept of pretending to be Tim’s girlfriend, even if just for the night. This wouldn’t be the first time you two did it. Of course you’d never admit your growing liking to the act. Deny, deny, deny.

[igbylicious]

payment on delivery [yunho x wooyoung]

pairing: yunho x wooyoung

rating: 18+

genre: smut, humour

summary: the pizza delivery guy is ridiculously hot and oh no! wooyoung has no cash! however will he pay for his meal? :3 (OR: yunho and wooyoung experiment with some fun roleplay.)

wc: 2.6k

warnings: roleplay, bigdick yunho, no hard bdsm but kinda dom yunho / sub wooyoung, rough blowjob, hair-pulling, cum swallowing, spit as lube, anal fingering, mention of tipsy oral sex in the past, the scenario is kinda cracky but i take ‘writing hot blowjobs’ very seriously 👍, some of the dirty talk is appropriately cheesy tho, they have fun <3

a/n: you might’ve seen this on ao3 already, but i wrote it while i was on tumblr break so it took a while to crosspost. anyway this is one of the most unserious smut scenarios i’ve ever written and i love it a lot :’)

The air conditioning whirrs insistently, doing a brave but futile attempt at fighting the balmy summer heat. Wooyoung is sprawled over the couch, dressed in flimsy shorts and a loose-fitting tanktop, trying his best to do as little as possible while waiting for Yu— for the ‘pizza delivery’. He craves something salty in this unreasonable weather.

Finally the doorbell rings and Wooyoung trudges over to the door, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead. Excitement prickles across his clammy skin, hungry for what awaits on the other side of that door.

He opens it, and stands face to face with the delivery guy. The tall delivery guy, who smiles brightly, a pizza box balanced on his hand. He wears a simple baseball cap worn over his fluffy brown hair, and exudes boyish charm with his rounded cheeks and shiny big eyes. Ridiculously handsome, and even through the sweltering summer heat Wooyoung feels warmth creeping up his cheeks at the sight of him.

“Someone order a sausage pizza?” the delivery guy winks, his smile widening.

keep reading on ao3

[okkalo]

What about a request of Mikey confessing to his crush in the aftermath of Kanto Incident?

hi anon! this was my first time writing mikey,, hope i did him right,, also sorry for the wait!! i kept doubting everything i wrote and kinda restarted lolz…anyways! hope u enjoy!! <3

i tried not to include spoilers so this should be safe for readers who haven’t gotten to the kanto incident yet!!

mikey x gn! reader

“y/n, you came.” mikey’s voice made you turn your attention back towards him. he was dressed in his usual comfy attire with his hair half up, nothing out of the sorts by the sight but it still felt off. perhaps it was because of the time apart from him.

“mikey, hi,” you greeted with a smile, one that paired so perfectly with the afternoon wind that he’d be a fool not to adore. he walked up to you, sitting down next to you in such casual light, almost as if you two were never apart. despite his easiness, you couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous—something mikey was quick to catch onto.

he moves his upper body so that his shoulder collides with yours, nudging you slightly to the side. your narrowed eyes that were quick to point at him only made him smile.

“what was that for?”

of course, he just shrugs, playing innocent, “whoops.”

you can’t help but scoff, sending your shoulder into his to give him a harder nudge. mikey only giggles at it, unaffected. if anything, he’s happy you loosened up, reminding him of the person he fell for.

“you’re such a child, mikey,” you sighed, but you couldn’t help but let your eyes catch onto his boyish giggles for a moment longer. something in you swirled at the sight, it was no secret that you missed him.

“stop lookin’ at me like that, i’d think you have a crush on me or somethin’,” he mumbled, his hand giving your thigh a nudge as he looked forward to the scenery. while he acted nonchalant, you panicked on the inside, your widened eyes giving it away. did he know?

“who said i have a crush on you?” you hastily asked, trying to play it off.

“really, you don’t?” he suddenly shot his head towards you, his eyes widened in surprise. “i thought you liked me back,” he mumbled, as if they were the easiest words to say in the world.

“i never—wait what?” you immediately paused in your words to look over to him now, cheeks slightly pink as you two looked at each other with the same widened eyes. “you like me?”

“i like you a lot,” he confessed, his eyes relaxing only to narrow, now scanning you. “you don’t like me back?”

well, that was unexpected.

“no! i do!” you immediately correct him, now feeling foolish as you were hard contradicting yourself. mikey, confused even further, just stared at you, mouth agape as he tried to read you. just as he was about to break the silence, his stomach instead took the honors of voicing how hungry it was.

“you’re hungry? of course, you’re hungry, you’re mikey—let’s go eat,” your speedy words only gave away how flustered you were at the situation. before you could go too far, however, he was quick to pull you by your wrist back down to him, your faces just inches from the other.

“can i do this?” he asked in a muttered voice, his eyes indicating exactly what he meant as he looked at your lips.

and god, if only he knew what that did to your stomach, which was swirling with butterflies. still, your eyes meeting his, you could only give a small nod, not trusting your words to do the rest.

he was quick to move in, one hand on your cheek as his lips slid against yours. he was surprisingly gentle, against all things you knew about mikey, his kiss was gentle and short. he greeted you once again with a smile as both of your eyes fluttered open to meet each other once more.

he opened his mouth to say something, though his stomach was quick to cut in once again, groaning. you couldn’t help but giggle, the moment already making your heart pace with excitement. he only gave a soft chuckle, his hand reaching out to nudge your arm.

“let's get something to eat first, i’m hungry,” he spoke softly as he moved to stand up, his hand immediately reaching down to help you stand. “then let’s talk.”

unedited. thanks for reading!

[enden-k]

remembering about trans!haitham headcanon, do you have any ideas you could share about it? (if that doesn't bother you) maybe about if his grandmother ever knew it, or if kaveh even knew alhaitham before the transition. maybe kaveh knows haitham's deadname? maybe kaveh actually helped haitham in his journey to affirm his gender? thinking about this makes me excited to do a fanfic about this AAAAAAAA-

ofc, i have quite a few (transhaitham just means a lot to me hhhsjdjk)

i like to imagine that his grandma knew and her love, care and support remained unchanged; all she wanted is for him to be content and comfortable, teaching him all that. she def helped him here and there; like seeing how he was bothered by his longer hair so she proposed to cut it short and seeing how his eyes lit up in his usual neutral face when he saw his reflection was prob one of her fav memories of little haitham. not only getting rid of the bothersome weight and heat of annoying hair but also seeing how he looked more boyish pleased him a lot (not that short hair = strictly masculine etc. you know what i mean there)

(dysphoria is not "required" or smth every trans person experience(d), saying this right away (and also as a note to anyone actually unaware of this) - he def didnt experience it, just felt sometimes a bit bothered by some stuff) he just simply knew who he is and wanted to find more comfort with himself by aligning his physical appearance more with his feeling and identity (by transitioning)

(idk if i explain it well in english what i want to say. also def projected there)

so, kaveh and haitham def knew each other in the early stages; when haithams grandma passed away, he attempted to cut his own hair (usually his grandma did) and it turned out cutely shaggy and sloppy (not that it bothered him much, as long as it doesnt look too awful to him) kaveh couldnt take it tho and in a quiet homoerotic charged moment took it on himself to do it right and save it. haitham already went by his name there but if someone knows of his deadname other than his grandma back then, its def only kaveh as his closest friend

years after their falling out, when they meet again in the tavern it nearly had kavehs eyes bulging out when he recognized the person seating down next to him as haitham - so much broader and bulkier than he used to be (back then he was already working out a little just to stay fit and healthy and gain more muscle, but still much slimmer in early stages of t. but now? def could snap kaveh in half and he wouldnt mind at all), his voice deep but still that same aggravatingly confident tone---

(i just love the image of kaveh always being so attracted to haitham and haitham alone, always loving him in every way, for being himself just like haitham loving him in every way, always and without a break despite their falling out)

this is turning more into me being sappy about them than transhaitham thoughts LMFAO SORRY anyway i think kaveh helped haitham a lot with things like cutting his hair properly short or picking clothes (mostly bc he liked dressing haitham since he deems his tastes as awful) or showing him how to shave when he first grew facial hair, all that kinda stuff

[memory-and-sky]

hi I loved your dysphoria fic and I wanted to request a ftm coming out to hobie fic? Maybe somewhere pretty like a fair or a spiderman classic tall building?

yes!!! i love writing ftm fics! thank you so so much anonnnn :3 hoping you enjoy!!

word count: 666 (how cool!)

containing: swearing, mention of dysphoria, reader is transmasc, use of ‘girl’ to address reader (once), crying, a little emotional i will admit! also a little corny but as is life

the rest of the fic is under the cut!

coming out (finally).

hobie x ftm!reader

It had been a long day without Hobie.

He’s the only one that you really trusted, really loved, and the only one who really cared for you in return. He… yeah, he loved you.

Those words were heavy on your mind as you paced the streets of Camden, trying to calm yourself down before going back on Hobie’s houseboat where you knew he’d be waiting. You were currently wearing Hobie’s tattered shirt, jacket, and jeans.

He probably wondered why you were always stealing his stuff, too.

Well…

Putting it simply, you hated being a girl. You couldn’t dress like one without crying uncontrollably. You hated it more than anything ever.

That’s why you’d been favouring Hobie’s clothes over your own recently.

Also why your back hurt incessantly. All the slouching in an attempt to hide your chest did a number on you.

You weren’t a girl. You knew this. Have for a while, but subsided it because of the world you lived in. And other shit that was happening. It was too much.

You didn’t know how Hobie felt about trans people. He was gay, but that’s… different.

As you came up on the dock Hobie’s houseboat was at, where you had been staying, your heartbeat increased.

Fuck.

Could you even do this?

You had to. You promised yourself. And Hobie… Hobie’s not the type of person to hate someone like that. Not for who they are, and what they cannot change.

You walked over to Hobie’s houseboat, and climbed on. Was he even home yet?

You looked in the bedroom, under the deck, and he was sleeping. Climbing the stairs down, you went to go gently wake him up.

“Whuh…” Hobie rubbed his eyes as you shook him awake. “Oh, mornin’, pre’y girl,”

You shuddered at the use of ‘girl’, not in a good way at all.

“It’s evening. Can I…um… well, I just have somethin’ to talk with you… about.”

“Do I gotta get up?” He mumbled.

“Yes. Please?”

Hobie sat up, slid his slippers onto his feet, and then went upstairs with you, onto the deck.

You looked out at the setting sun, casting orange lighting on you both.

It was beautiful. As stupid as it might sound, it gave you a bit of confidence.

Like you had to do it now. It was so pretty, how could you not?

“Hobie, you… you’d accept me no matter what I told ya, yeah?”

He nodded without hesitation. “Barely anyfing you could tell me t’ make me hate ya, love,”

You avoided his gaze. Jesus, you were terrified.

“So, you know how I’ve cut my hair kinda short, and I’ve been stealing your boyish clothes…” You took a shaky deep breath. “I… I’m not a girl. I’m a boy. I’ve decided I want to go by (y/n) and use he and him or whatever. I wanna be recognized as a guy.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, and clenched your fists in anticipation.

“Oh… oh, han’some…” You opened your eyes to a big grin on Hobie’s gorgeous features, as he brought up a calloused hand to gently cradle your face. “I’ll do anyfing t’ help ya, aight? Anyfing, I promise. I’ll cut yer hair if ya want, I’ll help ya with getting new clothes, I accept ya, ‘kay? Even if you gotta change yer identity a million times ova’, I’ll support ya through all of it.”

You felt like crying out of happiness, and as tears sprang to your eyes, you hugged Hobie tightly, held him like he was going to disappear at any moment.

“T-thank you, Hobie…” You cried into his shirt that he had sewn himself.

You sobbed as Hobie pressed kisses onto the top of your head, rubbing your back gently at the same time.

“Of course, mate. ‘n I’m sorry fo’ callin’ you a girl, hope you can forgive me, swee’ ting.”

“I—I can. Y-you didn’t know, it’s not… on you,” You sniffled.

Whatever happens next, you were glad you did this when you did.

You loved Hobie, and he loved you, so… that’s all that mattered to you. You’d make it through together.

[sorry for the shortness of this, everyone! hope u still liked♥️]

[thatradfailure]

Genderbent mercs. If you even care.

Notes about them under the cut because I put way too much thought into one off designs (even though Sniper and Scout technically aren't one off because I drew them before, came back, didn't like the designs, and decided to do an entire revamp and include three of their pals)

Sniper: Since she's a woman in a hypermasculine society (Australia) she probably grew up with extra pressure to also be hypermasculine, but failed a little extra hard because she's Woman. So, I gave her a lot of teeth jewelry for the intimidation factor they provide, as well as boots instead of regular shoes. I also gave her claw nails so that she can be perceived as extra dangerous. Otherwise, her short hair isn't necessarily a style she likes, but one she feels pressured to have to look more masculine and thus fit in better. I like the idea of fem!Sniper with braids tbh but couldn't see it fitting here.

Scout: Basically, she's both proud and insecure of her femininity. She dresses cute, she has cute stickers, and she constantly rubs it in people's face that they're being beat by a girl. But to be taken more seriously, she also masculinizes herself. Not her love of sports, that's natural, but she acts more boyish and speaks deeper than her natural register. Her young looks and immature attitude probably get her infantilized moreso than canon Scout, much to her great annoyance, which makes her double down on her boyish traits.

Medic: Honestly nothing too major to note. It was just important to me to get across that she's just as willing to sew a baboon uterus into a man as canon Medic is. Added a skirt because Medic is a prime and proper kinda guy, and heels because I think she deserves the intimidation factor.

Spy: Much like Medic, nothing too major to note. However, I think it's fairly evident that she looks the least like her canon character than the others. This is because men's and women's fashion is so different. She's also BLU in a RED lineup because I thought it'd be funny.

Engineer: Unlike the others, I actually based her design on concept art (the post I referenced specifically being here: https://www.tumblr.com/renposter/730118522655686656/official-gender-swapped-versions-of-the-tf2-roster?source=share). Specifically, the Rosie Rivets-esk hair for some of the fem!Heavy concepts, and the boots from one of the actual fem!Engineer concepts. I also included two little details- one is that her sleeve for her right arm is down, tucked into the glove. This is an allusion to her prosthetic hand, since a lot of people tend to have (needlessly) harsh beauty opinions about that, and beauty standards on women are. Especially harsh in the little details. Not to say they aren't harsh on men (I am so sorry you all are expected to look like Greek statues) but this post ain't about that. The second detail is the addition of the Teddy Roosevelt cosmetic, which is like a little good luck charm to her! There's no real reason, I just thought it'd look cute. Oh, and also she's about to bash Spy in with her wrench. Because she's the only one that's noticed. Unless Sniper knows but has stayed quiet about it because I'm a SniperSpy shipper-

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hey Cas, so I don't really know how this works, but I really to get things out so I thought maybe this would help? I don't know, I'm sorry, I hope I'm not being a burden or anything, feel free to ignore this if you want

So, a little context, I'm a minor (younger end of teen) and I currently live in a country different than my own and don't speak the language well (I can only say basic things like please, thank you, etc) so getting help from public/government service thingies aren't really an option.

I am a girl, at least to everyone and everything else? Okay, I really don't know how to phrase this, like, afab, except I'm not trans, or am I? ??? Very lost in the gender section of life, am I a boy? Like, I used to like or at least not mind skirts and dresses, and now if I absolutely have to wear them I will, but I don't enjoy wearing them? And sometimes I do wear fancy dresses for fancy things, and I want to look pretty in the feminine sense, but not in the way of oh, I want to be this but more like oh, I want this doll to look pretty kind of way except I'm the doll? I kind of wish I was born a boy (even not for gender stuff but my grandparents are kind of sexist? Like my maternal ones are better but my paternal ones secretly really wish I was born a boy? And really it would've made life a lot easier) and I hate my boobs and I wish they would just go away and I'd have a flat chest again. It's not like I throw up or get nauseous or anything from well, being a girl, but I kind of don't want to? But if I have to do so for the rest of my life I would tolerate it? And when I was like a kid I was never like oh, I'm a boy I'm a boy (I did go through a phase where I wanted to pee standing up like a boy but that was a weird phase and we don't talk about that). I also have long-ish hair and I kind of want to cut it all off to be super short and well, boyish, but I can never really bring myself to do it because that'd be too much of a change for everyone else and I have bad memories of being made to cut my hair short in a way I didn't want.

Even if I was trans, I can't transition or at least, I don't think I'm brave enough to. The country I live in is supportive, and I do have citizenship in a country that is supportive, but I also have citizenship in one that is not and that's sort of a problem. My family (both my parents and extended, no siblings) is also a problem because they're kinda conservative, not like send your gay kid to conversion camp and kick them out conservative but like it's wrong conservative (mostly for trans people, being in a more open minded country has made them start to slightly tolerate the gays - shh, don't tell them I'm bi) and I feel like if I told them it would just change things and while they're not especially good now, they're not bad either and I want it to stay that way. There's also legal stuff like birth certificate (was born in different country than country I am in now and places I have citizenship in), account changes, and other personal stuff

I don't really match what people say dysphoria is like, and I feel like if I am trans I'm like a poser and I don't really know what to do and while my friends would be supportive I don't know how to tell them, and I know that because I have a rather large friend group it'll inevitably get out to the whole school and I don't want to be that kid

So yeah, sorry for dumping all the gender problems my sorry ass has on you, and again, if you want to ignore this you can definitely do so, I won't be upset or anything

Hi hon!

Okay, two things: First, you're getting WAY ahead of yourself, here. One step at a time. You're not sure about anything yet, so let's figure it out first, okay? Take some time, do some research and self-reflection, maybe find a few trusted people and try out some pronouns, some different ways of expressing your gender, explore a bit!

Second, if you do come to the conclusion you're trans, you don't HAVE to do anything. The only thing you have to do is whatever you're comfortable with. There's no pressure <3

Last, being trans is different for everyone. Dysphoria, needs, preferences...it varies. If you feel trans, you're not faking it.

Like I said: take some breaths and take some time. Do some research- look into trans creators who talk about being trans, and see if you can relate. Find reliable sources that talk about it. See if your feelings are reflected in those things you find. And remember that there's no pressure to label yourself or make any decisions <3

And you are NOT a burden.

Sending love!

Naming you context anon!

[darkfictionjude]

For EC i'm playing a tomboy Luce mafia princess that isn't everything they seem since when Dante kidnaps them he's gonna have a big surprise when she lunges at him and end up having a brawl beating the shit out of eachother.

My Luce can get down with the boys due to them getting confused with my Luce looking like a boy (because they dress boyish and have short hair) she kinda looks like Bazett Fraga McRemitz in her style.

Hahaha yeah Luce doesn’t know how to fight 😭 when I say you can hit the mfer I mean yeah the type of hits when you’re trying to defend yourself and you go insane like slapping and punching and biting but like the actual skill to fight? Luce wouldn’t last a round 😭 like they’re a rich spoiled kid in their early 20s they don’t know shit 😭

Like imagine the opulence and defenceless of a WASP family, that’s Luce. Crowny has better fighting skills and that’s saying something 😭 all those fights with those other patients at the hospital worked to at least withstand pain from receiving and giving

[struwberrii]

Hii! How ya doin?? I hope ur sleeping well and drinking lot’s of water! 💕

1) Romantic please

2) she/ her + male

3) terushima and hoshiumi

4) I look for people who can tolerate kids, can listen when I can’t stop running my mouth, and someone who can be gentle with me. I’m lowk very sensitive.

5) I’m kinda loud and energetic, I’m pretty competitive, and I’m super good with kids.

6) I love to learn about astronomy by reading, I’m also a soccer player, I draw for fun, and I love to be around people.

7) Quality time. I love to be around people and interacting. I also do words of affirmations from assurance to compliments.

8) My dream date is probably to go somewhere like the planetarium or aquarium and after we would probably eat.

9) I’m streetwear/baggy clothes type of person. I can dress a little “boyish” from time to time. I can also switch to the Shoju aesthetic. I have an eyebrow slit, my eyes are brown, my hair is short and dark brown.

10) ENFJ

match up: sugawara koushi ✧˖°.

i think u may have seen this one coming 😭

sugawara is the definition of chaotic good. like he is literally so sweet and caring to everyone on the karasuno team while he’s in high school that everyone (the fanbase) literally calls him the mother of karasuno. he’s very calm when he needs to be and shows lots of maturity but also has a sense of humor and a chaotic side.

is literally a mother of like 11 at the age of 18 and he becomes a teacher in the time skip so there’s no doubt that he’s good with kids :3

i can also see sugas giving love language being words of affirmation, he has a way of lifting those around him up and bringing out the best in people. i can also see him knowing exactly how to bring those around him up, like he knows what you need to hear when you’re in a funk

also imagine going with him and his students on a field trip to the aquarium, so cute

suga is definitely the type of guy who can match your energy, he can be very energetic but also calm if you need him to be. like he’s probably very emotionally intelligent and knows how to read the room yk?

he’s def the sweetest boyfriend ever

[dialalagirl]

Oo I looove these matchups, I didn't really conaider doing one but I saw the recent ask so I decided to do one 😖♥️

Sooo im 5"6 with a short choppy bob that is kinda messy and in my face, im pretty round overall like round eyes, round face but a sharp nose and almond lips. I'm not sure if you know about style essences but I'm a Gamine / Ingenue Essence face wise. I have dark hair and dark eyes but I like to keep myself very pale because I'm skin is super sensitive. I would say I'm a very girly looking girl but with boyish traits like my hair is right below my ears and choppy so it's adds a Boyish pixie kinds feel to me, but my overall face is girly so its a nice contrast

I usually do my makup pretty clean except for my lips that I always put a dark shade, but I kinda go a 50's kinda way with my makeup. So light skin tint, black eyeliner with some brown airbrush around my eyes and deep lips.

I'd say my style is a mix between the 50's and a Victorian Doll ( please no Kanato stay away 😭😭) I've been told by my friends that I give off a Darker version of a Vintage americana. I also take inspiration from 1920's flappers because they resemble me. But I dress in a lot of ruffles and flowey garments. Idk I have a lot of styles but overall theme is anything vinatge from 50's to Victorian is my style.

As for me! I'm also quite a yapper and just seek out talking to people it actually annoys me because then after I feel embarrassed that I talk so much, but I kinda feel like I need to carry social interactions so I'm always throwing out questions and new topics so conversation doesn't slow down. I'm really friendly and easy going, I am a " head in the clouds " type of person I always zone out or forget what I'm doing or just completely ignore people by accident and then have to apologize to them 🤦‍♀️I'm not a airhead I just am IN my head all the time so sometimes I feel like I look so lost. It kinda acts as comic relif with people ngl but hey.

Im a bit of a bubbly person maybe? Sometimes I'm not sure how I come off to people I usually I'm the " cheery, funny, talkative " girl, and I don't think im that different at home but I'm probably also a little moody, I'm naturally very anxious, always have been, over nothing so my overthinking leaves me permanently mentally tired, I'm a eldest daughter so I tend to be very hard on myself and expect a lot that I'll put so much on myself, crash out, be depressed for a bit, and do it again. I also come from a Christian home so that's another level of expectation to be a " good girl " and I actually walked away from that faith because it never aligned with me but I never told anyone because I didn't want my friends or family to ruin the image they have of me. This makes things really hard for me to have any meaningful relationship with people because I only put my best version on display

ANY ENOUGH OF MY PERSONALITY

Hobby wise~ I just scroll YouTube and Tumblr all day. I've been homeschoold since Covid so that's how I'm able to just be at home all day.

But I love music like Melanie Martinez, Artic Monkeys, Marina the Diamonds, Sabrina Carpenter, Chappell Roan, Olivia Rodrigo etc ( Honorable mentions, Diner By Billie Ellish, St, Chrome by Tylee the Creator, God is a Woman By Ariana Grande, GTFO by Doechii, and Girls by Girl in Red )

I also love art, I so character Sketches and cool makup art, I also design clothes sketches but I'm not able to sew yet to make them 😅

And I love watching Commentary and analysis videos that into pshylogicol debates and conversations. I also watch serials killer interviews because I think it's fascinating.

I also do hip hop 💃🎵

Okiii random stuff

I'm TERRIBLE at comforting people, I'm so just awkward I stand there and after the person is done talking or crying I go " yeah...😶" like girl what do I do??? 😭

Id say my love language is pshycial affection, I'll just come up behind somone and lean on them and that's my love 💓

I don't ever gossip really but I love HEARING others gossip from the side.

I'm kinda that person you need to look for honestly because I'll just disappear and nor see someone, it's not that ignoring them I'm just too lazy to go out of my way to hangout with somone, unless they come to me.

If I had to be represents by a diaboy, I'd say I'm a mix of Shuu and Laito, more so Shyu maybe a little Kou but he's a bit a bitch for me lol

nothing could piss me off more than people disregarding me, because im so nice and helpful people with just cast me with favors without even asking me, so my kindness quickly turns to an expecting and I will quickly snap and or ignore them because I hate feeling like im being treated with less respect and consideration just because im helpful. Boundaries baby we need to have them don't forget it 💅 were nice not stupid don't forget it

I think that's all! I love your page boo~ ❤️ I'm a daily visitor so I just wanna give you some love for your account ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜 take it all! Oki byeee

aw, thank you, much appreciated <33

tomato potato, potato tomato, the diaboy of your eye today? reiji 

before you run for the hills, hear me out:

he goes absolutely weak in the knees for your 50's Victorian Doll look. it’s so fashionably and uniquely ladylike in a way that does not remind him of his mom, thank yezus

as someone who struggles to carry conversations through anything other than negative interactions, your positive energy--though initially annoying—becomes surprisingly infectious 

alas, you’re two peas in a pod struggling to convey something other than your best self. relationships are hard, man. but, maybe with you, he finds it a little less hard

this man is the freud of the household. prep your ass for many an analytical rant. not that you mind, I imagine

trust, you have not met someone terrible at comforting people until you met this man. however, physical affection like holding hands or a warm hug fixes the problem rather well, you’ll find

finally, someone to listen to him gossip about how much he hates mothering the household and shu

say what you want about pigeon-san. he may discipline you into a proper lady, give the rare compliment, or sermon a whole ass lecture at you on manners. the last thing he’ll do? ignore you like his mother

[natsmagi]

YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU!!!! YOU GET IT WITH TETORA!!! listen hear me out hear me out even tho i know we mostly talk about natsu and tsutsu here but i def thing tetora would be rocking short hair just to grow it out at some point in the story. her character arc is trying so hard to wanna have masculine-esque swag to just going "fuck it man. long hair time" to rep her fellow long hair butchs out there because i can so easily picture tetora having the style she has in the "beasts" gacha story in femstars. and maybe rotate between having them in cute pigtails to having them down.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

YESSSSSSS THAT WOULD BE SO CUTE!!!! LIKE IDK tetora doesnt strike me as the type who'd think she needs to have short hair in order to be masculine ?? maybe in the beginning she did, and maybe she tried to mirror kuros haircut specifically, but overtime she was like you know what. i kinda wanna experiment with this

i DO still want her to lean heavily into being very boyish BUT PART OF ME JUST CANT SHAKE THE FEELING THAT SHE'D GROW HER HAIR OUT AND ADORE IT!!! AND I ALSO THINK IT WOULD BE SUPER CUTE!!! femstars tetora still acting and dressing like a typical Boy but now she has her beasts hairstyle!! IDK I JUST LOVE THE VISION SO MUCH YKNOW ????

[seeminglyseph]

One day period fashion that was made to imply shapelessness will be depicted in fiction as actually shapeless rather than altered to be as sexually hourglass and feminine as popular.

Shoutout to flappers who were binding their chests and hips and had dresses that hung straight down and were meant to emphasize a “boyish or youthful figure” and most people in modern times associate them with cleavage and showgirl hips.

I’m not even shitting on people who want fit and flare looks, it’s just that they tend to be associated with period styles antithetical to that look. Flappers specifically didn’t do curves, they chopped off their hair and wore short shapeless dresses with a lot of decoration and glamorous fun hats. They were a rebellious “our kind of sexy” that honestly a lot of old fashion men thought “wasn’t very sexy at all” because they just looked like boys or children or “like they weren’t doing it for male attention”

Which, you know, they kinda weren’t. They were having a revolution of fashion for themselves which was a little controversial because part of it was a handful of new money young women playing at revolution as the world began to burn around them (it was the Roaring 20s! What could ever happen in 1929 that could possibly stop the party?) I know Zelda Fitzgerald has an excellent essay on the Flapper that I read when I was researching and writing about The Great Gatsby for Uni once, which is largely what made me care about the subject, and I’m not sure where to find that essay now. But it’s worth a read if you’re interested in the subject from one of the most influential flappers of the time. And understanding why it’s a shame there’s so much misunderstanding both of what it all means and like, reading Zelda’s writing is cool because it does lend a lot of context and understanding to a lot of things including F Scott Fitzgerald because most of his writing was copied from her or her observations. Womp womp.