Tumgik
#i prefer replies or such for this if able
whispersingojo · 2 days
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Tipsy Kisses~
Content ✮ fluff,tipsy!Satoru x sober!reader
Summary ✮ you come home from a mission to you lovely partner Satoru tipsy, trying to make good for himself food.
Word count ✮ 1.7k
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You were currently at Jujutsu High, but typing away at your computer. You were completing a report of the mission you had just returned from hours before. You groaned, leaning back in your chair stretching. Your arms stretched out above your head, eye closed.
“What are you doing here sensei?” A familiar voice asked, causing you to open your eyes and look towards the door of your office. It was Yuji! A smile formed on your face, “oh nothing, just finishing up a report for my recent mission,” you replied, closing your laptop, “what are you still doing up? Shouldn’t you be asleep?” You asked, taking on a parental role for just a moment.
“Oh, heh,” yuji laughed nervously, “sukuna is a chatterbox tonight, so it’s kinda hard to sleep ya know?”
You nodded, packing up your things to go home, “well don’t stay up to long. Maybe take a lap, yeah?” You patted Yuji’s shoulder, “take care.”
Yuji nodded with a tired smile, “right!”
Soon enough you pulled up to the shared home between satoru and you. Unlike Satoru, you preferred the simple, somewhat older home. Somehow, when you two were moving in together, you had convinced him to downsize his home into a small, quaint house. You wanted the house to feel lived in, rather than play proper within your own home. Eventually, Satoru grew to love the smaller home, but he would never admit it.
You put your car in park, grabbed your things off of the passenger seat and stepped out. After locking the door to the car, you went and grabbed the mail from the bottom of the driveway. Flipping through the envelopes, which were a mix of bills, letters, and junk. You began walking back up as you read through the contents printed on the front of each envelope.
You approached the front door of your home. You quickly grabbed your keys from off your pants, searching through the plentiful amount you had stored up. Eventually you found the key, shoving the key in and turning it.
You open the door, music filling your ears and making you smile. As you stepped into the hours, closing the door and taking off your shoes, the smell of food it your nose. Not just any food…burnt food? Satoru, unlike what you expected when you two go together, was a good cook for the most part.
You slipped on your house slippers and began walking to the kitchen, the smell of burnt food becoming more prominent. As you turned the corner, you were met with a nearly crying Satoru leaning over the stove.
You couldn’t help but laugh quietly to yourself, making him snap his head around. His glasses were covered his eyes, but you knew exactly what was going on in his head.
“You’re hooooome!” He wobbled over to you, hugging you close. You laughed a bit louder, putting your things down to return the hug, “are you drunk, bluebell?” You asked, able to smell a small amount of alcohol on his breath.
”no! He replied in a childish tone. He stood up straight and crossed him arms, “I’m 100% sober currently.”
You had recently bought him the stuff to make a mudslide, which was an alcoholic drink made with icecream and a coffee liqueur. It was sweet alcohol, which is why you knew he’d like it.
You laughed quietly, pulling on the collar on his shirt to bring him down to your level, “sure, bluebell,” you replied, placing a kiss on his cheek. You picked up your things off the floor and moved them to the table, just incase ‘sober’ didn’t see them and tripped.
You made your way over to the burn food on the stove. It was quite literally just a couple of black rocks in a pan, “so uh…what you makin?” You asked, turning your head to glance back at him.
Satoru came up behind you and put his chin on your head, “I’m clearly making black rock stew can’t you tell?” He joked, a pout forming on his face, “I was trying to make eggs but I keep burning them,” he whined. Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist and put his face into the crook of your neck, “can you make them for me, love? I keep fucking it up,” he asked, sounding genuinely upset over his inability to make himself food.
You laughed, turning around In his arms to look at him, “you’re cute when you’re drunk,” you smiled, placing a kiss on his forehead, “I’ll make you some eggs ok? You just sit right over there and they’ll be done in a giffy, bluebell.”
Satoru let go of you and wobbled his way over the table where you had sat all your stuff. He pulled out the chair and fell quite dramatically into it. You knew he was playing up how drunk he was, since he didn’t enjoy drinking or getting drunk in general. Regardless, he was being cute so he was gonna get what he wanted.
You quickly threw out the black, burnt rocks in the pan and gave it a wash, not wanting the new eggs to taste burnt. You opened the fridge, pulling out the eggs and milk and setting them on the counter.
“How was the mudslide?” You asked, pulling a bowl out of the cupboard.
“It was good, honestly,” he replied, returning somewhat back to his normal self, “I could still taste some of the alcohol so I was only able to have half of what I made,”
“That’s good I’m glad. Now do you want fluffy eggs or normal eggs?” You asked, cracking a few eggs into the bowl.
“Hmm fluffy,” he replied, taking his glasses off and cleaning them with his shirt.
You began mixing a small amount of milk into the eggs, which helps make them fluffy. You hummed to yourself softly, putting the milk away. You turn in the stove, put a little bit of butter in the pan so the eggs don’t stick, and wait for the pan to heat up.
You couldn’t see it, but Satoru was staring at you. He loved watching you do mundane things, like cooking or cleaning. He enjoyed doing those tasks with you too, unlike before. You showed him the enjoyment of keeping a household together, instead of paying someone else to do it for him. Satoru stood from his chair, walking towards you. His arms snaked around your waist, holding you close to him. He set his chin on you, not saying a word.
You smiled, enjoying his quiet closeness. You dumped the eggs into the pan, hearing the sizzle as you grabbed a spatula.
You two stayed there in silence, just enjoying each other. You pushed around the eggs in the pan, watching them slowly clump together. Satoru placed a kiss on your head, before letting go to grab the two of you plates.
As the eggs finished up, you turned off the stove and moved the pan over into another burner.
Satoru set the plates down next to you, as well as forks he grabbed as well. You served the eggs onto the plates, putting the pan back on the burner to cool before washing.
As you two sat down, you noticed a smile on Satoru’s face, “what you smiling about over there?” You asked, taking a bite of your food.
“oh nothing…you just make me happy is all,” he replied, also taking a bite.
You began thinking for a moment, putting your fork down, “you purposely burnt those eggs didn’t you?”
Satoru chuckled softly, “maybe,”
You laughed, “how did you know I was coming home?”
“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he gave you a wink.
You rolled your eyes, picking the fork back up.
The two of you continued to eat your eggs, talking about how your mission went. It was nothing special, just in and out like usual. When you finished up your plate, Satoru stood up and took both his and your plate to the sink. It warmed your heart how much of a gentleman he was becoming.
“wanna watch a movie?” Satoru asked, beginning to wash the dishes.
“Sure! Lemme get a shower. you pick a movie, I’m too tired to do so,” you replied, walking over to the left side of satoru.
You gave him the eyes you always gave him when you wanted a kiss. He looked at you, chuckled a bit, and gave you a kiss. You giggled to yourself happily and skipped away, going to take a nice hot shower- which is what you needed after a long day.
Once you had finished up with your absolutely amazing shower, you quickly dried your hair and put on some comfy clothes. Nothing felt better than a good shower and clean clothes to you. You made your way out into the living room, where Satoru was sat on the couch looking through whatever streaming service he had chosen.
You took a seat next to Satoru, leaning into him curiously, “any decision on what we’re gonna watch?” You asked, watching him scroll through the movies.
“How about A Few Moments of Cheers? It looks cool, it came out in June,” he replied, reading the reviews and summary.
“Sure!”
Satoru pressed play on the movie, started to get comfortable on the couch. He laid across the couch, allowing you to crawl on top of him and lay your head on his chest. Satoru grabbed the blanket on the back of the couch, throwing it over the both of you.
The warmth of both the blanket and Satoru’s body made you instantly tired, the sound of his heartbeat in your ears didn’t help either. You tried you best to stay awake, but the exhaustion of the day was getting to you. You ended up falling asleep a few minutes into the movie.
You woke up a few hours later, the room was dark and the tv was off. You noticed you were still in the same place, and when you turned your head up to look at Satoru, he was passed out. You smiled, nuzzling back into the same spot you were just in. He was breathing softly, his heartbeat slow and steady. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out.
“I love you, bluebell,” you whispered softly. Soon enough, you fell back asleep in his arms.
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thefrogman · 2 days
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Back in the olden days, if you used the "keep reading" function on a Tumblr-dot-com post, it would
not get very many notes.
At all.
I am not sure exactly why.
I think people hated pressing an extra thing.
But maybe it was also a psychological phenomenon where, given the choice, they were unwilling to trust me with their time.
But if I sucked them in with a good story or a compelling image, they would get serious FOMO.
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When I created a super high effort post-of-length I would get comments like, "This was way too long but before I realized it I was reading the last sentence."
That was a really good feeling.
I used to do tests to figure out the best posting strategies and I think I figured out you'd lose about 90% of your notes if you did a "keep reading" post.
So that notion was ingrained in my brain again and again from when I was very note-obsessed and I have since avoided the "keep reading" option almost like a conditioned response.
Just seeing that squiggly line appear still induces a Pavlovian fear.
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But that was probably a decade ago and I did a new experiment. My story about replacing my mailbox did reasonably well with a strategically clickbaity "keep reading."
This was a promising result due to the fact that some people like to send me hate for writing a lengthy post.
I recently got a death threat for writing too much, which was a fun reminder of my M&M days (I melted men's rights activists' brains with a poorly worded analogy and they launched a years long harassment campaign).
It seems in present-era-Tumblr-dot-com many more people prefer pressing an extra thing rather than scrolling a bunch on their smartphone. The collective behavior has changed. And maybe I don't need to use tricks and running gags in order to get folks to "keep reading".
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Unfortunately I started writing that ring light post a few months ago so I wasn't able to include that in the experiment. But I am going to try using the keep reading function in the future and as long as the average number of folks that usually read my longer posts continue to read my posts, that will be the standard approach.
I also tag these posts with "long post" so you can flag that if you wish.
While I am no longer in the audience-building phase of my Tumblr career, these essays and stories and educational posts take a considerable amount of time and effort to create, so I do want to make sure everyone who wants to read them is able to. But posts without hearts and reblogs can quickly die a gruesome algorithmic death. Even my most ardent followers would tell me things were not showing up on their dash. (I think replies help mitigate that, so if you like a long post, you can help with engagement.)
The collective noun is a "business" of ferrets.
Do you want to see a business of ferrets ready to do some business?
KEEP READING
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I love writing and it is a huge catharsis for me. And I love sharing any knowledge I feel like I have the earned expertise to speak on with authority (technology, photography, light, fun ferret facts, etc). I wish I had the energy to be a photography teacher, but long posts on Tumblr are probably the best I can do for now.
I know my posts are super long, but I try to make them as fun and informationally dense as I possibly can. I don't like wasting people's time if I can avoid it. Though maybe I should trust my follower's attention span a bit more. I have this fear that if I am not constantly entertaining, people will click away or unfollow.
I think a good business for a business of ferrets would be selling pool noodles that look like ferrets.
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So as long as I get roughly the same amount of notes I will do the keep reading. And then maybe people can lay off on the mean comments and occasional requests to end my own life because I bloviated about soft light.
100% true ferret fact..
If you ask a ferret what their business is, they will crawl on your shoulder and whisper in your ear...
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rush-the-stars · 2 days
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nai x reader
gothic vampire au
cw: insinuation that reader is maybe kept against her will. or kinda likes it if she is. yandere.
***
for weeks, the good doctor draws blood from you as gently and carefully as possible.
“drink, my girl.” doctor conrad encourages after taking another pint of blood from you. “i’ll not have you pass out on my watch—lord nai would be displeased.”
you let go of a puff of breath, a little irritated.
“lord nai would only care if i dropped dead, since i wouldn’t be able to provide him with fresh blood.” you remark, sinking into the settee with a sour little pout.
“oh, nonsense.” conrad says, moving the cup of tea closer to you. “look where he keeps you—at the food brought to you and the garments made for you.”
at that, you spare a little glance around your quarters.
it is lovely—rich in color and texture, deep blues and violets. a plush, lace-trimmed bed and velvet curtains over beautiful, arched windows. a little balcony for fresh air. a large basin for warm, milky soft baths.
you’re adorned in a silk dressing gown, buttery against your skin.
your closet is full of them.
“he only keeps me around because he has to—he abhors humans. he won’t even look at me.” you reply.
“if he abhorred you, he wouldn’t keep you safe here, away from other humans.” conrad replies. “or he’d keep you in chains, in a cage somewhere, barely alive.”
“a gilded cage is still a cage.” you sing.
“i always liked birds. i had some as a child.”
lord nai’s voice makes you jump.
you stand, surprised, which makes the blood rush from your head, “lord nai—“
his gaze only flicks to you for a moment before he says, “out, doctor.”
and conrad hurriedly packs up his equipment, bustling and bumbling in the silence that grows heavier with each passing moment. he scuttles out shortly after, leaving you alone with nai.
dizziness sweeps in.
you both look at each other.
you waver.
then nai picks up the cup of tea and offers it to you.
“sit,” he says simply, “and drink.”
you sink back down into the settee as if compelled and nai hands you the cup of tea carefully. your hands are shaking somewhat and you try to keep the tremor out as he hands it to you.
the tea is still warm.
“i’ll have food brought up to you.” nai says then, “you’re weak, it seems.”
“i’m fine,” you say back.
“and here you were, just complaining.” he sighs, turning away from you and towards the window—the birds outside flutter and chirp, wings beating, song high on the wind. nai glances back at you, “drink.” he says again
you obey this time, bringing the rim to your lips. it’s mellow and earthy. a tang of lemon, maybe.
“is your gilded cage not to your liking?” nai asks, returning to watch the birds outside, they flash in dashes of brown and taupe, a sudden red. a burst of blue or streak of yellow.
“no, it’s—“ you swallow, peering down at the tea wobbling in your cup, “my accommodations are lovely.”
“then what do you lack?” nai asks, finally turning away from the window to face you again, “what have i not given you?”
there is an undercurrent of frustration in his voice; it genuinely displeases him in some way. but you’re not sure how. perhaps unhappy blood is bitter. perhaps he prefers the taste of you when you’re relaxed—
“i don’t—“ you try to get out, but he suddenly crosses to to you, so fast it’s almost startling. you fluster as he appears beside you, sitting on the settee with you now.
“then why do you pout?” he hisses, “why do you whine?” he glances at the cup in your hands, the way they tremble, making the glass clink against its saucer. “keep drinking.” he then commands.
you take another sip, deeper than before, and swallow it down slowly. he waits for you, tense and poised beside you.
when you place the cup back into the saucer with another soft clink, you finally say, “companionship.”
“companionship?” he parrots.
“is the only thing you haven’t given me.”
he sits with this for a moment, straightening his back, jaw ticking.
“i’m lonely—“ you add, “kept here, with no one else. i hardly see you.”
the admission is small, soft. a little trembly and you think it’s because of the blood that had been recently drawn. you take another sip to swallow this down, to try and clear your throat.
nai looks you over, gaze slow and raking.
“humans are so needy,” he sneers, standing again, and moving away from you in a flash of pale color. he returns to the window, refusing to face you. you can see he’s tense all over, sharp and tight, holding his posture with rigidness.
you speak carefully;
“it’s all i want for now—you’ve taken care of everything else.”
the knot in his shoulders loosens. he hums at that. silence stretches, except for the faint, muffled sound of the birdsong outside.
“i’ll return later to bring you to the garden.” he finally says.
you startle—
two visits in one day is unheard of.
“why?” you ask, little heart thumping. are you in trouble?
nai turns back to you, calmer than before. his eyes, pale like the morning sky, slide back to you. over you. you wonder if he can hear the fluttering of your heart, like a bird’s wings that beat and jump.
you shudder a little. and when he smiles faintly, coldly, you see a flash of his fang the way the birds flash behind him—there and gone, quick and brilliant;
“because i take care of what’s mine.”
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vinjinssunglasses · 13 hours
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Hey can u write a Seongji Yuk x selectively mute!reader please
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─────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───────
character seongji yuk
summary him in a relationship w u <3 (selectively mute)
start no clue
end 21 sept
a/n tysm for req! I’m not selectively mute, so tell me if this is anyway inaccurate n I’ll change it. this is a lil bit shorter <33 sorry for taking so long aswell😭🙏
─────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───────
ᯓ★ Respects your boundaries. He’ll never push you to talk whenever you don’t want to, but rather savour the comfortable silence where you’re together. He loves just being around you, just having you in his presence is enough to soothe him.
ᯓ★ The silence between the two of you is never suffocating. The warmth of your hands intertwined and the slow smiles curving from each others lips when you occasionally make eye contact allows the both of you to relax.
ᯓ★ Instead of dates where you’d go out to eat at loud restaurants, you’d both prefer to stay inside, cuddling on the couch while watching a tv show comfortably. As always, he made his favourite snack, tanghulu, but you only sigh and take a bite instead of complaining. No matter how many times you write messages about how dangerous this much sugar is, he never listens.
ᯓ★ Around the house, post it notes are stuck to walls back-to-back with cute little messages and inside jokes. You’d notice a note stuck on the fridge with a ‘I love you. don’t eat my food. 😾’ and you’d reply back, then going back and forth with bits of banter.
ᯓ★ Instead of verbal communication, you naturally understand each other with only meaningful glances and subtle gestures that just the two of you understand. There’s never a need to talk between you two, only when you’re comfortable enough.
(Usually, you’d use pen and paper or type on your phone.)
ᯓ★ He plans dates to take the main focus off of talking, letting the silence between the both of you communicate louder than words could. A soft brush of your hands, and you turn to face each other. The gentle tickle of sand under your fingers sparking anticipation. Your heart flutters when he takes the initiative to intertwine your fingers.
The sun casted a golden, pink glow over the horizon as it slowly dips. A gentle breeze carried the smell of seawater, feeling cool onto your skin while seagulls flutter into the distance. The tranquil beach was your favourite place to just relax with each other, side by side, taking in the breeze. Ever since you’ve been friends, you’d frequent this mesmerising view. Although you’d find yourself studying Seongji’s features rather the rising and falling of the tide hitting against the rocks.
Tonight was different. It was your first anniversary of being friends, yet the air between you two felt distant. Do people even celebrate this? It was only an excuse for you to see him that day. Do friends hold hands? Make up first year anniversaries and believe it? Does he feel the same way? These thoughts danced around in your mind, and came up with a foolish idea to finally write the words I love you. A piece of paper and a pencil rested beside you, and your hand itched to pick it up.
Seongji noticed your eyes lingering, lips parted as if you wanted to say something. He leaned closer, catching you off guard, and spoke softly.
“Are you okay?” His voice flows smoothly; like the warmth of a spring breeze, barely above a whisper. Combing his hands through your hair, you couldn’t help but fluster at the sudden contact. You paused and he waited for a response, knowing you wouldn’t express it with words. And he didn’t expect you to either
Lips trembling, the silence that was once comforting started to overwhelm your senses. You expected yourself to be able to do this with ease, yet here you were, shaking. Seongji called out your name, squeezed your hands in a feeble attempt to get you to respond in any way. If only you knew how much you meant to him. Pathetic. You felt pathetic. If only you were a little stronger…
“I love you, Seongji.” You muttered, and the world around you two went silent. The birds fussing in the sky, crabs scattering at the commotion, tree leaves dancing… It paused for a moment. Seongji gazed into your eyes, a glitter of hope inside his. He cupped your cheeks that ran with your tears, wiping them away in his thumb. Words couldn’t express how glad he felt in this moment. The words jumbled in his throat and the only thing he could do was hold you tight in his arms, head nestling against the pulse in your neck.
Nothing else mattered. The fact that this is the first time you felt comfortable speaking didn’t matter. He pulled away, and that’s when you noticed the tears glistening down his cheek. Seongji placed a passionate kiss on your lips, one that he’s been holding in for too long.
“I love you too.” Seongji whispered against your lips, pulling you in for another.
ᯓ★ Even throughout the surprise dinner the rest of Cheonliang fam held in congratulations for your relationship, he held your hand. At first, you didn’t plan on telling them. But when they caught you exchanging kisses on the lips, the secret slipped away. He gently stroked your hand with his thumb, a subtle reminder he was there for you. A touch so soft, as if silently asking are you okay? and you felt so safe knowing he were there with you. Every so often, hed glance at your facial expression, a search for any signs of discomfort.
He knows you’re not great at huge events or parties like this. Seongji even insisted you should relax at home for a while, though you wanted to. After all, everyone was so happy; giggling and cheering for the both of you. You felt you couldn’t let them down. The loud talking pained your ears, as well as the music playing from the radio. A nod here, and a gentle squeeze of his hand there. As always, your eyes did all the talking. When questions were asked, your gaze would shift to him, a silent request between the two of you.
Sometimes, you were comfortable enough to say a few words at questions that weren’t bothersome, and nobody would make a big deal. The air between everyone was chatty and easy-going, and that’s what you loved about the Cheonliang fam.
Somewhere to call home, and people to all family is all you’ve ever wanted.
You’ve struck gold.
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tsukimefuku · 14 hours
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the hero i was, the man i am :: toshinori yagi/all might
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Toshinori is having a hard day, and you decide to help him out with a much needed pep talk.
content warning: true form toshinori x reader, gender neutral reader, hurt and comfort, mention of scars.
wc: 600
notes etc.: thank you @actuallysaiyan and @g00miato for getting me into the all might agenda. I see the vision (and it’s wonderful from here 💜).
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Toshinori wasn’t one to usually wake up on the wrong side of the bed.
Yet, here he was, staring at himself in your shared bedroom’s mirror while dressed in his old All Might attire. His eyes glanced down his lean form, clearly not enough to fill the clothes that draped and bagged around his thin frame.
His hero uniform, once worn with a proud smile, felt like a poorly made costume from the thrift shop.
Perhaps, even worse than that.
“Toshi?” your voice echoed into the room, and he turned his face around towards you, trying to spare you a smile. However, it felt like a mask. 
“Oh, darling. I didn’t hear you coming into the house. You got those groceries incredibly fast.”
“I was gone for a few hours, love,” you replied, walking towards him, with slight concern tightening your chest. “are… are you okay, my dear?”
He tried keeping his smile going, but it quickly morphed into a frown as he diverted his gaze back to the mirror.
“What do you see?” he asked in a low voice.
You hummed for a second. “What do you?”
“I…” Toshinori’s voice dragged for a short while, as if he picked apart a dozen different words, but none of them felt quite right, “I see a shadow. An immaterial shadow that cannot touch things as the body that has cast it once did. I cannot do much in this form, if at all, to help people. Not anymore.” 
You took a pensive expression and held his hand, turning him to face you.
“Do you want to know what I see?” 
Toshinori seemed sad and disappointed with himself as he nodded. His shoulders hung low, with a weight you would never be able to fully comprehend — a beacon of hope, Japan said — and you thought, for a second, that he blamed himself to a great extent for what had happened since his last fight with All for One.
“I see…” you started, taking his hands in yours and slowly peeling his gloves away, “the hands that have taken hundreds of people from under debris.” 
You stepped closer, and held the hem of his shirt, sliding it off his body from his shoulders, “I see the shoulders that have carried me and so many others to safety in times of need.”
He sighed softly when you put your hand over his scar, and locked eyes with you before you slid both your hands down his body and undid his belt, letting his pants fall to the floor. “I see the legs that have carried you to all the places you were needed. Even when it was to your own detriment, you did it, and did it with a smile.”
Finally, you held his face in your hands, and smiled at him.
“I see the face of the man that inspired and supported so many students. That still does. The face I fell in love with. So that’s what I see — I see you. How could I ever see anything else?”
He sighed and smiled back at you, pulling you into a hug. Toshinori nuzzled your hair, and took in the smell of your preferred concoction of shampoo/conditioner and whatnot, which he absolutely adored. Your smell. 
“Thank you, my love.”
“Whenever you need, Toshi,” you replied with your face pressed against his chest, hugging him back tenderly. “Now, silly, I need your help to put the groceries away and we should start prepping for dinner. What do you say?” 
He sighed contently still holding you in his arms. That, they could still do.
He was thankful for that.
“Sounds lovely.”
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written by tsukimefuku ㋡ comments and reblogs are appreciated. do not copy, translate or repost. copycatting is for losers.
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nogenderbee · 1 day
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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝔾𝕚𝕗𝕥 𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 ₊˚ˑ༄
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Hello! Could I request Argenti, Welt, Dan Heng, and Aventurine with a s/o who loves making them gifts?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hii! I don't write for Argenti or Aventurine so I just did the other two! But I think it turned out alright anyway so I hope you like it too!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff
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✧ Welt immidietly liked how instead of buying a gift, you make it on your own!
✧ he'll probably try learning how to make handmade gifts himself so you could have a fair exchange between each other
✧ he doesn't mind giving gifts without occasion... in fact, it only adds to the meaning! He'll do his best to now instead of giving you bought flowers, to either give you origami ones or ones he collected himself
✧ you can already tell her takes your little gift giving quite seriously...
✧ his reaction to your gifts is always rather similar! He'll smile softly and thank you properly~ He'll also kiss your palm if his hands won't be busy
"It's absolutely stunning... Almost as stunning as you, dearest~ Thank you for this gift. I promise I'll take good care of it~"
✧ maybe he doesn't have dedicated shelf for your gifts... but he still keeps them safe!
✧ he just prefers to store your gifts in places he visits often. Just so he can have a quick glance at gift from his lover followed by soft smile as he remembers when and how you gave it to him~
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@vodka-glrl - come get your grandpa father of the express!
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✧ honestly, Dan Heng always found hand made gifts slightly more meaningful than just bought ones
✧ so when his partner turns out to be the type to make those, it'll be rather hard for him to hide the gentle smile every time he receives one
✧ he's not used to being spoiled with gifts though, so if you're gonna give him those on daily basis and not just on holidays, he'll definitely have hard time getting used...
✧ it's not like he's mad though! He appreciates every gift he ever got from you and even has special shelf dedicated to only your gifts~
✧ you won't be able to read his happiness from his face or words usually though... he usually replies with simple "thank you", and it's pretty rare to see him smiling noticably
✧ but if you ever think he didn't like your gift because of your behavior, he'll turn by 180° and explain how much it actually matters to him
"That's not what I meant... I love it. It's great gift. I'll make sure to cherish it every time I wake up, I swear. It's amazing..."
✧ he'll be blushing like crazy after the speech though so please spare him and don't tease him about it...
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@miya-akane @toyaswif3y - come get your quiet but scary trabilazer!
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akascow · 28 days
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getting home at 11 and having to 'wake up' at 730 because some toyota group of 100 people decided to book a private an hour before we open 🧍🏻‍♀️
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apoapsis · 1 year
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wanna do a lil fluff bc 🥺 [rare i know] like this for a little kissy from either sig or (if you're lucky) sieb reply to specify muse
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randomnameless · 11 months
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The only time to consider a VAs opinion is the OG Japanese Voice Actors anyways. They tend to be part of who the character is crafted for and are employed for life to be said character.
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Merging the two asks!
I wouldn't say a seiyuu's opinion should also be considered as "important" or having as much authority on canon as the devs or the game itself, and maybe I don't spend a lot of time on social media but I don't know if they comment or interact with their fanbase as much as the non jp VAs do.
en parlant de ça, je crois qu'il y avait la doubleuse de Bulma de DB/DBZ - je ne sais pas si elle continue pour DBS - à Paris Manga le week-end dernier?
Ultimately I agree, whatever they're posting/saying on Twitter X is, I'd day it's their own opinion and feelings about the game/lore/whatever they're posting, and it doesn't reflect the devs's vision or the like. Even if, say, Sho Hanamiya would end up saying Reptor did nothing wrong and was Jugdral's true hero, I'd be disappointed, but write this off.
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gho2ty · 1 year
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i should probably talk about g2 oocly more often because i know hes kinda unapproachable often i know hes weird i know hes quiet. but i promise he has a lot going on in that brain of his. most of them being new soup recipes and math or whatever but, like, still.
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pirateborn-a · 2 years
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     Still busy but less so now so     LIKE / REPLY to this if you’d like me to send an ask or a few from your prompts tag ?
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I CANNOT be the only one that thinks kissing with tongue is a deeply unpleasant awkward to execute and gross experience right????? Like how on earth is anyone enjoying this like more power to you if you do but why is it SUCH the norm
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iknityounot · 10 months
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(Long post, sorry y'all)
A little more than two years ago now, my grandmother passed away. She and my grandpa had moved down to my home town a few years before so we could take care of them. I brought them groceries once a week, helped them write checks, fixed tvs, and found lost things. I was really close with my grandma.
In addition to her hilarious personality and dry wit, one of my favorite things about her was that she was a painter and a crafter like me! She used to crochet, and I took her to the craft store a couple of times so she could get more yarn and books on crochet. But her arthritis and the shaking in her hands kept getting worse, so she eventually had to stop.
She kept her most recent project, a granny square blanket, safely packed away in a plastic bin. She told all of us she was going to finish it one day.
Her hands never got better, and when she got sick, and we found out it was cancer, she rapidly deteriorated.
After she passed, I went to work helping my mom clean out my grandparents apartment so we could move my grandpa in with her. In our frantic cleaning, I found that bin again:
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DOZENS of granny squares, dozens of half used skeins. I asked my mom what she wanted me to do with it, and she said she didn't care. I set it aside and later took it home.
Maybe a month later, that tumblr post about the Loose Ends Project was going around. It felt like a sign--I was never going to learn to crochet in order to finish my grandmother's blanket. But they might be able to help!
So I filled out the interest form. They got back to me SUPER quick. And maybe 2 weeks later, I was paired with volunteer in my state (only 2 hours away!) and the box of yarn, granny squares, and my grandmother's crochet hook were in the mail. That was at the end of January this year.
Over the next couple of months, my "finisher" emailed me regular updates on her progress, and asked me questions on my preferences for how she constructed the final blanket.
At the end of August, the blanket was done!
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I had always intended the blanket to be a gift for my mother. So I cleaned it up, put it in the only bag I had big enough to fit it, and drove to my mom's. I gave the blanket to her and she was gobsmacked. I explained to her all about Loose Ends, and how someone volunteered to finish the piece for us. She was speechless. (I was quite pleased with this, because I am not the best at giving gifts, so this was a pretty exciting reaction!)
She said that it was the most thoughtful gift she had ever been given. She said "your grandma would love this". To which I replied, "yeah, I know she really wanted to finish it a couple of years ago". But that was when my mom dropped the bomb of a century on me--she told me that my grandma had started making those granny squares OVER 30 YEARS AGO. She had started the blanket when my grandpa was staying in the hospital, but that was back when my mom was younger than I am now! My grandma had packed them all away, planning on finishing it, when my grandpa was sent home from the hospital. Then it went from house to house, from condo in Chicago to their apartment in my hometown. All that time and my grandma had wanted to finish it, but couldn't. First because she was busy, then because she forgot how to do it, then because of her arthritis, and then because of the cancer. My mom said she had given up on expecting my grandma to finish it. 
She said I brought a piece of her childhood with her mom out of the past.
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And really, all of this is to say, if you have seen or heard about the Loose Ends Project and have an uncompleted project or piece from a loved one who has passed away--these are your people. They were so kind and treated my project with such care. That box probably would have been found by my own grandkids one day if I hadn't heard about Loose Ends.
Five stars, absolutely worth it!
(From what I understand, you can sign up to volunteer too! If you have time to share, it might be worth checking out!)
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ukitakejuushiro · 7 months
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HEY HEY HEY! It’s birthday twin here, HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIRTHDAY TWIN!
My day in fantastic, thank you very much! Hopefully yours is going swimmingly as well!
BIRTHDAY TWIN I AM SO SORRY THIS REPLY IS LATE, unfortunately my Tumblr app is being a huge doodoo 😭
Anyway THANK YOUUU my birthday this year was great! Lots of love and realization this year. I hope your days have been amazing since then, and that the remaining months of the year will be even greater!
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lovelybucky1 · 1 month
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Ain’t as Good as I Once Was
warnings: old man!logan x AFAB!reader, riding, bratting, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, age gap, punishment, degradation, 18+ minors dni, divider from @strangergraphics
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“C’mon, girlie, if you want it, you’re gonna have to take it yourself,” Logan’s gruff voice says from below you.
You’re sitting on his lap, trying desperately to fuck yourself on his cock as he sigs back and watches you. Despite your begging, Logan refuses to do the work for you.
“I’m too old for this shit. If you’re that fuckin’ horny, you can take care of it yourself,” he told you smugly.
You sank down on his cock and have been trying to bounce on it, but the strain on your thighs is too much to reach a satisfying pace.
“Please, Daddy, can’t you just fuck me?” you whine pathetically. Logan smirks a bit and chuckles through his nose.
“I ain’t as good as I once was, dollface. I doubt my old bones can fuck you the way you want me to,” he says, not seeming apologetic in the slightest.
You know he’s full of shit. He may be old and gray, but his healing factor keeps him in peak condition. He’d be able to fuck you just fine, he’s just a crotchety old man who wants to see you suffer for his entertainment.
He places a large hand on your hip and starts gently guiding you, urging you to rock back and forth. You follow his movements and while it’s better than what you were attempting, it’s still not what you want.
“You’re a spoiled fuckin’ princess, that’s the problem. So used to Daddy takin’ care of ya, you forgot how to ride, is that it?” Shamelessly you bite your lip and nod.
You wouldn’t call yourself spoiled. Well cared for is a better term. Logan never lets his girl go to bed unsatisfied, and now he’s suffering from the consequences of his actions.
“C’mon, flip me over and fuck me,” you say.
Logan raises an eyebrow at you.
“Who do you think you are, givin’ orders? If I want you to ride my cock, then that’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna fuck that pretty pussy with it until she’s had her fill.”
Logan lets go of your hip but you keep up with the same pace he set. With his hand now freed, he reaches over to the nightstand to grab his cigar and lighter. He lights up and smokes it as if he were at the bar, not in bed, deep inside his girl.
He looks up at you, bored, as smoke pours out of his mouth. You’ve been riding the edge of just enough for the past fifteen minutes and you’re getting increasingly frustrated with Logan’s lack of help. You briefly consider being more of a brat in hopes of egging him on enough to punish you with a hard fuck, but with the kind of mood he’s in, it’s likely that the punishment would be stopping entirely.
You let your head hang down as you brace yourself with your hands on his chest. The solid muscle covered in gray hair is hot, unnaturally so, under your touch and you desperately want to feel that heat on your back while he fucks you from behind.
“Daddy,” you plead quietly.
“What’s the matter, dollface?” he asks, playing dumb like the tease he is.
“I can’t do it.”
Logan smirks around his cigar like you just said the magic words he’s been waiting to hear this whole time.
“What’re you saying?”
You pout down at him. “I can’t make myself cum. I need you to do it for me”
Logan, surprisingly, grins at you. “Bet you regret calling me an old man now, huh?”
You furrow your brows in confusion, but you quickly realize what he’s talking about. Before this all started, you pounced on his lap and asked him to fuck you. He told you he was busy reading his book, and in your usual bratty fashion, you replied, “What, you can’t get it up, old man?”
“I didn’t mean it, Daddy,” you whine. “I swear, I was just teasing you.”
Logan hums but makes no effort to move. “Guess you better start behaving if you want something from me.”
“I promise I’ll be good. I won’t talk back anymore,” you attempt to bargain.
You both know that’s about as empty of a promise as you could give, but Logan doesn’t seem to care. He prefers when you’re trouble anyway; it’s the game you play. He’s the grumpy and mean and you’re the spoiled, demanding princess.
Logan stubs his cigar out in the ashtray on the nightstand and places both hands on your hips. He lifts you off of him with ease, something that never fails to amaze you, and sets you on the bed next to him.
He moves so he’s kneeling between your legs and holding them up around his waist, his cock lined up at your entrance.
“Spoiled fuckin’ rotten, you are,” he mutters as he pushes inside.
Logan always makes sure his girl goes to bed satisfied, no matter how much of a brat she is.
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cannotflyarc · 10 months
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super jet-lagged and going easy on myself so i'm probably not gonna be doing a ton of ( if any at all ) writing for the next few days! but i'm still lurking over on discord in the meantime!
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