#im not really set in stone about this nor do i think i say it very intelligently

[toyherb]

long rambling stream of consiousnes post

remember when someone was called our for making porn of their oc but aged up and the anon was like "but you have portrayed them as a kid too" and everyone was like. people age dude. they don't exist as a child to (author) etc etc

anyway I think the way we think if this kind of discourse has messed with our minds and how we think of fictional characters. thankfully I am not engaged in any sort of shipping discourse in any fandom. and I always stay silent on my opinions on this but I just wanted to like... sort my thoughts ig

please read the footnotes this was so stream of consciousness djhavavkda

I hate proshippers and how they behave they are so annoying and act like people who disagree with them are all stupid dumb dumb babies. I have more thoughts but this isn't really about them.

having said that I'm not an anti by any means... anti culture does not attract me, and I would rather spend my time having fun with media I like and avoiding what I dislike.

there is no room for people with a moderate opinion in this discourse. people in the middle seem to pick a side and then try hard to fit in or explain weird logic to make what they feel okay to them (if they are an anti who wants to ship or make porn something tabboo, they by certain logic it is okay) or ignore things that make them upset (on the proshipper side). unless I'm just so far removed I don't even see these people (since potentially they also just don't engage with the discussion, or do so privately)

I think, on the topic of aging up characters it depends on SO many factors whether it feels "morally okay" or not. like in the first example, the character experiences time and is portrayed at different life stages and porn of them as an adult, made by the author, exists. all of that is extremely normal and healthy. my thoughts on this extend to characters who are not adults in popular media. I don't think people who do this are attracted to teenagers , but rather the idea of that character as an adult and their partner (if this is about sex or shipping or whatever) who is the same or similar age as them.*(1)

even if the characters do not "belong" to them, to me this is like playing with barbies and thinking of stories on your own. especially with anything illustrated or drawn which really lends itself to imagination and different interpretations of characters.

having said that. I do not really feel comfortable with the idea of actually elementary age children being aged up for porn if they have never been portrayed as an adult or older teen. it's weird? it doesn't make sense to me. like. with a teenage character you have a better idea of who that character will be as an adult (even if obviously we change a lot between being teens vs adults) but with a young kid? like, when you see them you are still picturing the child even if the art is them grown up. there is not context to imagine them as a whole adult if it's just porn. this was messy but idk how to phrase this properly.

(I am specifically thinking of Pearl from Ace Attorney when I write this. which differs in the next example in that Pearl is a kid surrounded by adults and engages with the world and the writing as a child and has little agency over herself. in a way i think people who have childhood trauma can see this and a portrayal of [adult] pearl having agency, even in a pornographic way, is safe and theraputic. i think thats kind of poetic tbh but it still makes me sad and upset to think of pearl sexually)*(2)

it's gets more confusing and hard to form feelings on this kind of thing because of how nuanced every situation can be. like when Rugrats All Grown Up was a thing, I'm sure people who grew up with the show thought the adult versions were attractive and proceeded how you can imagine. It.... doesn't feel THAT weird to me I guess? The characters were portrayed whith whole personalities, from their perspectives, and how they are treated by the original show (at least in my faint memory), it kind of makes sense. You don't think of them as just babies but as whole people.

(this is similar to how if you are a kid reading something like A Series of Unfortunate events, you might love reading about the kids facing adversity and escaping danger, but an adult reader would probably be distressed and worried for the them. I read the books as a kid and that's what my teacher said she felt. watching the TV show as an adult I understand her.)

Another example is Harry Potter. I have no real idea how people decided to write fic for it back in the early 00s, if they decided to age characters up, before the later books, but I know people were writing porn for it. (but also like. not sure why adults were such big hp fans. maybe they were just around the books for whatever reason like as a librarian or teacher or whatever). in a situation like that I think its easy to picture in your mind older characters but personally I'm still like. they were middle schoolers, bro... its very nearly absurd to me to imagine writing porn of Harry Potter characters before any depiction of them as adults existed. I GUESS you can age them up? it's still weird to me. which is weird bc the previous example we started with literal babies. hp just feels more specific with its characters and rugrats feels more loose, and I could say that's because rugrats is a kids show that primarily exists in our memory, but I also never even read harry potter

I think this ultimately has to do with how we think of characters in more personal ways. Like... in Fire Emblem Awakening, I married Chrom and Lucina was our daughter. But if you play as a boy you can marry Lucina because she comes from the future as an adult (or however old she is). I know people who think of Lucina as m!Robin's canon partner, are attracted to her, and that's fucked up to me. I just can't think of her as an adult woman, even if she is one. Like. I actually get mad thinking about it. but this is because of my personal feelings about Lucina.

(but like literally I think marrying any of 2nd gen in that game is weird so maybe i just know some weirdos)

so anyway my conclusion is that fandom is personal and what feels okay and what feels like pedophilia depends on how we engage with it and that nuance makes it difficult and even impossible to distinguish if someone is a freak or not without knowing and understanding their relationship with the media yaaaayyyyy

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1*This only really feels normal if you are college age or you started liking the thing when you were younger and then got older. Unless you're galaxy brained and make those characters 30 and in an office setting I guess. How weird this whole idea is depends on on how the characters exist in their canon world, not just their age but like.... narratively(?). Like their agency, what they do, personality etc. I do not mean to imply that if you are a teenager those kinds of things make YOU more attractive to adults (on the contrary, abusers will prey on qualities that isolate you from any support), but, because fictional characters are fictional and like barbie dolls, we can change the context we want them to exist in. ie oh they're in college and not high school or whatever. Again, how you personally interact with the media also contributes, and how you initially get to know these characters also forms how you will ultimately conceive of them.

(that said the stronger it is established the characters are in high school the less I am able to reimagine them I college without having to completely imagine them changing into new people over time. the only other option really is to imagine a full on au... but even then i feel like you have to change them quite a bit.) (not to mention the more it's established they're high schoolers the less i am attracted to them... 🤢 i wouldnt change them just so i can like them. i would just not like them anymore...)

(even when i was just beginning college I was really into an Ouran high school host club character which I liked in high school, but now I'm not interested in him at all... aging out of that attraction is such a weird feeling.)

2*I want to add to this artistic, dark angle that I skim over here. As someone with fandoms which ARE dark, violent, and indeed contain abusive relationships, I think there is artistic value in certain things like this. It's not that I like to see pedophilia or incest portrayed, but that dark and fucked up stuff which is meant to wrench your gut has a right to exist. even when it's pornographic! pornographic art CAN have things to say! and even when it doesn't necessarily say much, I think that gut wrenching type stuff has value for being that way.

(although how I feel about that kind of thing is not the same as how I feel about like. porn depicting siblings that is just porn. I mean, I know that porn on its own has artistic value no matter how base we believe it to be. I'm just saying porn depicting abuse and playing into that feeling of disgust and shame is not the same as porn that's just "teehee my step sister is a whore." although I think the difference between these two is probably the perspective and position of control the reader and protagonist have. even comparing say lolita to stepsister or stepdaughter porn. the control the protagonist has over the situation, the way it makes us feel... it all contributes to that nuance I was talking about.)

(also I know I just said porn has artistic value no matter how base it is but I fucking hate that stepsibling shit. it's so popular bc its a fantasy to live with someone you like but it gets me so mad.)

[satoruhour]

HIS FAVOURITE W— STUDENT !

a/n: dilly / @crysugu i am losing the pwp war i needed the lore to be in this HELP. anyway !!! professors bc i cannot stop my mind from spiralling while starting my university classes — im not entirely proud of this but eehhh ….

wc: 4k

warnings: ultimately semi-public sex for all, unprotected sex, cumshot, standing doggy, brief oral (m receiving), brief f! masturbation, brief fingering (gojo), geto is a professor who is also a camboy, camgirl!reader, f! and m! masturbation, mentions of bad dragon’s cumtubes, brief fingering, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (geto), pussy slapping, spitting (on yo pussy), pet names, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, tit play, fingering, implied f! masturbation (nanami), mentions of murder, stripper!reader, riding, degradation, calls you ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, calls you ‘mama’ once too, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, slight face-fucking (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

professor gojo was… an interesting teaching figure. he didn’t have a set way of doing lectures or tutorials, nor was his feedback on assignments entirely coherent, but he was fun and unorthodox. he was also hot as fuck, as you’ve heard from your friends, but you never really got the deal even after seeing his photo on the university website or from miles away entertaining some starstruck student. his classes were always left with no vacancies, too, only able to see what your friends meant after stepping foot first into the lecture.

you were a tad bit early, greeted with gojo sitting at the front with his legs propped up on the desk as he shot you a nonchalant greeting and you think maybe you should’ve signed up for another lecture group, but then he speaks and the air is knocked out of your chest. professor gojo is charismatic when he teaches about art, design and media, captivating everyone with the stark white hair and blue eyes, but he’s clever with his glances because you aren’t realising he stares at you more than anyone else.

aren’t you in your second year? how did he not see you anywhere last year? why did you just sign up? 

the smiles he gives you are sweeter than others, the words more sugar coated with lilts in his voice and you’re chastising yourself for not being any different from everyone else, soon turning into the girls who ask for extra tutoring sessions and sidling up to him on campus — at least you’d get the full experience.

“oh! sweetness, what are you doing here?” you’ve managed to get gojo just as he leaves his office, standing outside for quite some time thinking if you’d really want to do this. several lecturers and professors have already walked past asking if you needed anything, but no matter how much you wanted to say professor gojo’s name, it always turned into something like waiting for a friend.

“oh— uhm, professor gojo, just wondering if the grade for that major project is really set in stone?”

gojo makes a show of thinking, but you know you’re asking for the devil himself when he replies yes with a stifled grin and you’re asking if the two week period of appealing works for the major you’re in.

“you can submit other collaterals as an appeal but it might either boost your grade or bring it down,” the professor leans down with a sick smile on his face, because he’s had so many people outside just like this, nervous from his advances and yet not going through with what they thought they could do. but this time it’s you, the you who he imagined taking on his office desk or even in a lecture theatre for everyone to see, who wants the words to fall from your lips just so he could be your knight in shining armour.

“is there really no… other way to appeal?” you swallow when gojo switches the position and gets you in exactly where he wants you: your back facing his office, his face dangerously close to yours while his eyes slyly catching the way your thighs rub together.

gojo smirks to himself when you knock down yet another cup of stationery on his desk after “discussing” ways you could improve your grades, nails making unsatisfactory noises on the wooden desk while he can hear your cunt gush around him, made obvious from the squelch of your hole and he’s muttering praises into your neck from behind.

“this what you had in mind, baby?” just another girl in his roster, getting ruined just for a grade that wasn’t even that bad. what you didn’t know is that you were the only girl, getting professor gojo so hard in lectures and tutorial classes just from the sight of you that to finally have you — it’s a sweet reward. you shiver when his hand reaches to your front to rub at your clit and you’re grasping at nothing as moans leave your lips.

“y-yeah, professor—” gojo is filthy, lewd, lifting your leg to prop up on the desk just so he could get deeper in you, your pussy everything he imagined and more as he continues to fuck into you. you’re warmer than his hand, than some hookup’s mouth from the club, clenching around his cock so tightly his hips stutter.

“f-fuck, angel, tryna snap my dick off?” you let out an incredulous chuckle at that, hips moving back to meet his while the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fill the room. your juices are coating his length so well, too, that gojo’s eyes lock on your cunt that sucks him in over and over again, the spread of your pussy lips just amplifying his moans. the other spreads your cheeks and sighs at the translucent ring of cum at the base of his cock, hips fucking up to hit your sweet spot that you’re cumming with a shock down your spine — so hard, so deep, so intense that you’re jolting from the orgasm with whimpers of his name. gojo never truly is done with you after pulling out to cum on your ass, however, and you aren’t either.

there’s a thrill that runs through his veins when you back him up onto the sofa, a glimmer in your eyes that suggest you’re as intoxicated on him as he is on you, a sultry gaze taking over your shyness from earlier before he’s pushed onto the cushions.

“thank you for the meal, professor,” you giggle and gojo swears he’s reached his death when your mouth first closes around his still sensitive tip and he whines loudly, hearing your fingers fill your drooling cunt as your hand squeezes out leftover cum from before. a hand runs through your hair and your cockdrunk face is enough for him to see white—

professor gojo thinks you look heavenly between his legs.

✶ GETO

you sigh echoes throughout your dorm room, ending the stream and collecting your keep for the day as you grimace at the mess you’ve made on your sheets. it’s not like it wasn’t pleasurable, but on some days you’re wondering how long you truly need to serve gross men on the internet for it to be enough to pay off your university fees. sure, there were a few attractive people who commented and tipped you, but that was the extent of it. it’s not long before you can only think about cleaning up and taking a big fat nap, but a video in the sidebar catches your attention.

it seemed like a casual stream — no script or planned storyline apart from a heavily tattooed arm taking up half the screen, his pelvis just slightly off the thumbnail. he was faceless, too, filming rather from the chest down which was also inked, something that sends a chill to your core.

it’s only later when you’re slipping your dildo back into you as you watch this stranger pump his cock, guttural groans and slick noises filling your airpods that you realise the dragon wrapping around his arm looks awfully familiar. you’re so blissed out by pleasure, focusing on the needy moans that the man lets out before he cums with a grunt, so much cum leaking out from him. you’ve reached your high too, but you have no time to admire the stranger because it seemed like he was in a hurry, but not before you’ve caught a glimpse of his lip ring.

you know why he looked so familiar, now, standing in front of him in his office while his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, something he doesn’t do often. geto suguru doesn’t wear his lip ring in lecturers either, and now you think you know why because they match the video you’ve seen just last night. you aren’t even entirely sure why you were called in, and you think maybe it’s because you “accidentally” sent a friend request, but you’re taken aback when he asks you if you’ve already selected a tutor to be your mentor throughout your major project.

“surprised? i sent out the email a week ago, love.” you try not to let the name get to you, and the confession lingers at the tip of your tongue.

“y-yeah! i saw it, professor geto, just—”

everyone was no stranger to professor geto’s striking looks, always turning heads with his unconventional gauges and long hair that probably should’ve landed him in a modelling agency in the first place. except, he’s opting instead to teach linguistics, a fitting major for him to talk of the history of language and its formation of it, even slipping in some latin and greek to show its origins but you can hardly listen when all you can focus on is the tight pull of his shirt around his body while his hair falls around his face and you think maybe it was a bad time to think if his hair falls out of his bun while he rails someone. you hope soon it’ll be you, just so you can confirm it for yourself with no other reason involved (you’re a fucking liar).

geto clears his throat and you swallow and the flex of his forearms only distract you further, the dragon on his arm seemingly laughing at your torment as it moves along his skin — the other doesn’t miss your dilemma, staring at you for your answer with a dark stare and enjoying the effect he had on you. your brain doesn’t respond fast enough, though, and you’re blurting out the first thing as you watch the curve of his mouth turn in either distaste or satisfaction; you weren’t sure.

“i saw you stream yesterday—” and you slap a hand over your mouth, wanting to run immediately, but you didn’t expect him to smile after a moment of recognition, making the connections to your account until his mouth falls open just a little.

“you’re the little cutie who sent me a request last night, aren’t ya?”

as he asks the question you hoped he wouldn’t ask, you find there’s nothing on your mind except maybe seeing his tattooed arms wrap around you — and you did. they looked so much better up close, leading from one thing to another in that stuffy office soon they’re looking especially good with how he’s currently dragging the tip of his cock along your folds, collecting your slick as you hold onto his biceps after confessing sin after sin about you from—

“i’ve jerked off to your videos.” a burn on your cheeks when geto sets you on his office table, palms leaving hot trails along your thighs and skin. he lets you play with his bulge, hands probably forming bruises on you from how you relieve the tension in his pants.

“the way your cunt wraps around that dildo — makes me wish i was there fuckin’ your pussy instead.” a gasp and a moan when he preps you with both fingers as he sucks hickeys into your neck and plays with your tits, pinching your nipple that has you clenching around him.

“didn’t miss how you like to be bred in your videos too. think maybe you need some real cum, princess,” geto’s button up shirt is pried open by now, trousers just barely pulled down below his hips because he has a lecture in about half n’ hour. though, he wanted your pussy all to himself and if 27 minutes was all he was granted, he was going to make full use of it. geto groans into your hair when your legs wrap around his middle and he’s reeling at how he’s been watching your videos for the longest time and yet, nothing compares to having you fall apart by his hands.

a quick glance to his watch tells him fifteen minutes, eyes flitting back to the squelch of your cunt around him and he smiles smugly at the whimpers he knows so well. he’s sure it’s imprinted on his brain by now but his dick still jumps at the many variations you’ve let out during the 27; he’d commit every single one to memory. “professor— s-shit!”

geto angles his hips up, the curve of his cock hitting that spot just right that your back arches and you let out a drawn out moan, “yes, baby?”

“w-wan’ your cum in me, suguru,” you’re pleading with a drunk little smile and your face is twisted into such pleasure he’s only seen through pixels that geto cums almost immediately with a pained laugh seeing the real thing, hips stilling as he fills you up, up, up to the brim with hot, white semen that geto feels embarrassed to climaxing so quickly. but what can he do? when his favourite camgirl and student asks to be bred, it’s only natural.

how could he possibly say no?

✶ NANAMI

“does that mean the poem is written from the cross’ perspective?” your hand shoots up in hopes of interpreting the text correctly, but also because, just maybe, that you wanted to impress a little someone at the front of the lecture theatre. beside you, you can hear the gasp of your friend along with the eyes of various other students. “sort of like— personification?”

nanami points to you with his glasses that he’s long removed, a small smile on his face. it’s not like you’re trying too hard, but of course you know your shit fairly well. you always have in every class, it was just a bonus you were so attractive that all nanami could think about was spreading your legs right on this desk. “yes, almost. anthropomorphism, something that was very common in poems or works written in old english.”

you were sceptical about professor nanami at first, especially since he was a lecturer who was transferred here from overseas only three months ago and is technically quarter of a white man, but he held command of the japanese language well enough for you to understand, both in speech and concepts. you were more interested in the lecturer himself though, piqued from the moment he explained his grandfather was danish and you turn to your friend, explains the blonde hair, doesn’t explain how he’s so insanely fine, giggling quietly to each other the first day.

as for your major, it was texts after story after poem, but you enjoyed it alongside giving your own input in class — something you knew would help your participation grades. you’ve raised your hand in more ways than one, always coming up at the end of lectures with a question, stopping him in hallways to show him the book you were currently reading. so that’s why you were confused when you were called to the front of the lecture theatre after everything’s over. it couldn’t be bad, right?

it wasn’t bad, it was much better, especially when nanami’s got your legs on either side of him on the lecture theatre desk while he takes his rightful place between your legs — somewhere he’s always longed to be. both the front and back doors are locked, with only your soft, muffled moans filling the room. but nanami has no shame, slurping up the juices that drip from your pussy loudly, possibly staining the desk below him. he’s cared before about the condensation of his drinks but when it comes to your sweet, sweet cunt? he doesn’t give one fuck.

“taste so good, sweetheart,” nanami moans wrapping a forearm around your thighs and just eats. he flicks his tongue over your clit, while the other hand goes up to squeeze at your tits, kneading and playing with them while you’re still at awe at the man on his knees, at how you’ve gotten one of the hottest professors in the university eating out of your pussy like it’s the last meal on earth.

you’re snapped out of your daze when nanami lands a few slaps onto your pussy, brown eyes boring holes into your skull. but this stare is different, as opposed to glaring down the mischievous boys who can’t stop making noise, this is…

“pay attention when i eat your little pussy, angel,” the demanding tone has you shivering, a small grin stifled when he nods in deserved approval and continues his assault. fingers slip in before you have time to react and your head is thrown back so hard it bumps against the wood but you don’t care, clamping down around his fingers. nanami’s pace is unforgiving, sucking hard on your clit while he pumps them in and out.

“feel good?” nanami asks through slurps as he catches your eye, licking one last stripe before gathering his saliva into a ball and he spits onto your clit, sight so lewd you clamp around his fingers. he admires how the way the glob of liquid runs down your cunt and mixes with your arousal that he can’t wait for it to be his cum instead.

“better than…” your voice trails off when he rubs in his spit, a thumb on your bud while he continues to move his fingers and your thighs are already trembling from how nanami knows all your sweet spots in such a short period of time. nanami simply chuckles at your sensitivity, meeting you halfway as you sit up to feel his lips against yours and he whispers against your lips—

“what were you gonna say, baby?”

you’re heaving for oxygen as he adds a third finger and you’re just hoping he’d show you his fucking dick already. hot breath fans across your lips and you smile to yourself seeing how your words affect him.

“better than fucking myself with my fingers thinkin’ it’s your cock, prof.”

✶ TOJI

it was nine in the morning, and toji could already feel a headache forming from the amount of absentees in his class, simply sighing before pulling up the details for today’s lecture, eyes unknowingly looking for you in the large lecture theatre. he finds that you’re already looking, clad in a cardigan and tired eyes — no doubt from trying to reach his deadline earlier than usual. toji found that you liked to do that, the first one to always submit your essays and assignments, so that’s why he knows what game you’re playing at when you’re asking the difference between first, second and third degree murder when you already know their definitions.

he would know — you got full marks the other time. 

“hm?” toji only hums when he sees your enthusiastic face and a quick look down to your lower half shows how your legs spread naturally for him. the professor only licks his lips before he spots your underwear, entertaining you for now as you stare on earnestly, while nothing is actually entering your brain. that’s okay, though, you’re smart.

toji can count on one hand the amount of times you manage to catch him off guard, but he didn’t expect both of those times to be on the same day. it was a busy night at the club, trailing behind professor gojo, bored, until the clock hits 11 and the shift changes, some dancers retiring for the night whilst others make their way out. they emerge with pumps and skimpy outfits, but toji still hasn’t found someone worth wasting his loaded bank account on until you’re stepping out in a corset and garters and toji whistles lowly, eyes travelling up your person unforgivingly before he hears a small gasp.

his curiosity is piqued at the small noise, only to be greeted with your widened eyes and taut muscles at having seen your professor at the strip club you work at, but with a clap from somewhere backstage your body moves naturally into a professional stance, and perhaps a little more sluttily than other days.

your professor was hot, of course you would work twice as hard, twisting your body around the pole while you show off your assets — things you were covering just this morning in professor toji’s lecture. he taught criminology, a minor that you were trying out in your second year of uni and if it didn’t work, you’d drop it, but no matter how much you complained about the class, the green eyes that bore into yours in lectures always seem to ask you to stay. you never really knew whether he was looking at you or not.

at least now, you’ll make him.

toji’s hands tightened around the wad of cash he planned to waste tonight, all put on hold just from watching the way you put your body on display. he wouldn’t have imagined seeing you tonight at the strip club he let gojo drag him to, but he’s almost glad he’s here when you seem to be only dancing for him, all focus on the other patrons lost.

your eyes are still locked with toji’s, reminding you of the times in the lecture theatre where green was all you could see, a smile creeping on your face when one of your girlfriends behind you whispers that the man with the black hair and tight shirt wants a private session with you.

that’s all it took before you feel toji’s hands on your ass later in the private room, pulling you to his front with a smirk. “what’s a sweet girl like you doin’ here?”

you roll your eyes as you feign annoyance. your heart was pounding along with the music, finally being able to feel his toned body from the front., “cut the crap, prof. you booked me for a reason. what, here to talk about my grades or something?”

“what? can’t see my favourite student?” you scoff with a small smile.

“and how did you know i work here?”

“i didn’t, but seeing you work that pole,” toji grins, landing a smack on your butt before grinding his very obvious, large bulge on you and he’s loving the way it seemed to stimulate your clit, “i need ya to show me what i’ve been missing, mama.”

toji groans later while you’ve got his cock in his mouth, on your knees in front of him while you’re fisting the places you can’t reach. you take most of him easily, feeling the tip of his length reach the back of your throat. there, your eyes flick up to him, doe eyed and pleading. it isn’t long before you feel his hips bucking into your mouth and the cute twitch of his cock in your mouth, moaning around him as you knead his thighs, dragging him closer with what little strength you had.

“dirty fuckin’ slut, huh?” toji mumbles out breathlessly, tightening his grip around your hair before you start bobbing your head again, a plethora of lewd noises alongside the slurp of your saliva and his pre-cum mixing only makes your panties wetter and sends your cunt clenching around nothing. “who knew my cutest student was such a whore?” your head reels at the degradation, sucking in your cheeks even more while you slobber over him. toji swears under his breath when your tongue sweeps over his tip, collecting his pre-cum.

“it’s s’big in my mouth, professor,” giggling, you bob your head faster as the other’s noises increase in volume, and he’s left to tap the side of your skull, causing you to tilt your head in question. the vibrations of your moans has him grinding into your mouth, shutting you up until he’s cumming down your throat with a loud groan. toji spills so much into your mouth that you have to swallow twice, pulling on your jaw as you show him the remnants of the cum still on your tongue.

“’m sure they have it somewhere in the conduct about professors not having sexual relations with a student,” toji chuckles when he sees you peel off your underwear, eagerly wrapping his arms around your waist. “or even something about cutting corners to get your grades up…” it’s a little soft, trailing off when he feels you drag his tip along your pussy and he’s mesmerised with how your dripping folds accommodate him easily.

you pout in dramatics, thighs tightening around his when you take inch after inch of him before you’re bottoming out. there’s a deep sigh coming from you before you’re moving your hips lazily, a certain slur to your words that already show you’re drunk on your professor’s cock and toji only smiles.

“yeah, but my grades are perfectly fine,” you whisper with a small whine when toji squeezes your ass, something he never thought he’d get a taste of.

“plus, we’re not in the classroom now, are we, professor?”

[thelazyhermits]

Idk if this been ask or not but...

Im really curious on hcs of fortune and rody? 👀

You know, I don't think I've gotten an ask about those two before, or at least, I definitely don't remember ever getting one lol

Honestly, I never completely decided on the details of that dynamic since I had wanted to wait to see how things would unfold once I started writing the fic for WHM, which unfortunately got put on the backburner due to my intense TWST brainrot lol

And since it's been a while since I last thought about this topic, I can't completely remember everything I came up with that I never actually wrote down, but let's see what I can scrounge up after getting rid of all the cobwebs in my brain 😂

Hmmm let's see, for starters, Rody first finds out abut Fortune from Midoriya during the time the boys are on the run. He can tell Midoriya trusts/cares about her a lot, so it makes him a little curious about her.

Rody is completely caught off guard when he first meets Fortune cause he wasn't expecting her to be so young since Midoriya never mentioned that important tidbit of information, so he gets a little flustered around her at first, especially since she's so nice to him.

Originally, Rody had intended to be on his guard around her cause he doesn't really trust adults, but upon seeing that Fortune isn't that much older than him, he finds it easier to let his walls down, especially since Fortune treats him similar to how she does her students, aka she looks out for him/worries about him, etc.

I had even contemplated Rody ending up with a cute little crush on her by the end of the movie, but that idea wasn't set in stone. It was just something I considered cause I thought it'd be fun to write haha

By the end of the movie, Rody has a lot of respect for Fortune cause she works so hard for the sake of everyone she believes is under her protection, including himself, and he admires how strong she is and the fact that, despite not being a pro hero, she can fight as well as her students and is willing to protect others at the risk of putting herself in harm's way.

Regarding Fortune's thoughts on Rody, she first finds out about him via her visions of his and Midoriya's road trip. It doesn't take her long to take a liking to Rody cause she can tell he's a good kid and is just doing his best to survive and look after his family.

She really admires Rody for being such a great big brother and for all the amazing skills he's picked up in order to survive. She's glad someone like him ended up befriending Midoriya since those two make a good team in her eyes.

As far as how I would describe this relationship as a whole, it's kinda hard to say. It's definitely different from her relationship with her students since Rody doesn't have to be polite toward her, nor does she have to worry about being a good example toward him/teaching him, etc.

I guess "friends" would work since they are essentially friends by the end of the movie's events lol

Rody gives me a lot of Hawks vibes, so I like the idea of Fortune's friendship with Rody eventually becoming like her friendship with Hawks since I think that'd be fun haha

[lunarsights]

whos to say he would only stick to same age or younger people just because of one or two or a few of his traits, comforting someone doesnt have to always be attached to a particular age range it is what most readers have said mixed responses so I went off the ones I have read most of, plus I dont think san would ever be into ageism either he has much respect for women of any age through his own mother and sister. strict upbringing means shit all really because it still doesnt define who he want or what age range he want to be with.

the problem start with these readings and people taking tnem as fact when its neither nor exact its just what people pick up and some have said is fs is foreign some have said its younger korean, so im going to interpret that as being san has multiple people he could end up with and all these readings do is give his imput in that one particular reading it isnt the be all end all final selection of who exactly he would or wouldnt date.

ppl do tale this shit way too seriously and in the 00s it was hardly mentioned for any celeb like no one gave a fuck who dated who or at least i didnt, people dont want idols to settle and they dont want idols to be happily dating and they want to assume xyz thing of most idols in tarot readings. its getting out of hand. it was meant to be light fun to see merely briefly for the situstion rn what he may or may not prefer its never facts or solidifies exactly who he end up with. end of discussion me thinks. sorry for rambling but i seen so many anons taking this too literally / seriously. esp around groups most popular or highly requested members. i only wanted to say how he doesnt have much preference and i think thats cool bruh

ideal types aren’t set in stone - they change over time and even then a type doesn’t necessarily indicate who someone will end up with eventually! i agree people definitely get caught up in thinking these broad descriptions are concrete, but it’s also on tarot readers (like myself) to emphasize how fluid tarot can be. i could ask about san’s ideal type three months from now and it could be totally different, and his type now is probably totally different from when he first debuted!

as for narrowing down what could be most true, i usually go for what gets repeated because if multiple people are picking up on it then everyone can’t be reading the cards wrong if that makes sense? but again, things are fluid.

but yeah additionally, san doesn’t come off as someone who is completely averse to dating someone older - it seems it’s just not his main preference/he doesn’t find that happening often (so far)

[zairas-realm-gateway]

when bege met with sanji, he specifically said that he would be marrying the 35th daughter of the charlotte family AND says her name is pudding. he has a nasty history of being perverted towards teenage girls after the timeskip (he literally Turns To Stone upon seeing shirahoshi, who is only 16) and his attitude with pudding is no exception (she even comments on his perversion during the wedding ceremony. there was no "brainwashing" involved, he is just a perv.)

im a sanji fan myself, but you can't turn a blind eye from his behavior towards teenage girls. he is 21 years old in canon after the timeskip. pudding being "mentally 18" is such a gross way to explain why sanji might view her as older than she really is and as someone who was groomed by a pedophile for acting older than i actually was at the time, that phrasing sets off so many red flags in my head.

im not necessarily saying sanji is a pedophile (because i truly dont believe that he is given his attraction to All women and 16 is the lowest age hes acted like that towards), but it is still extremely weird of him and people making fun of him or criticizing that aspect of him is perfectly fine and you shouldn't take it as a personal thing. that is just how oda wrote him. (but hey at least he's not kyros or vander decken who genuinely ARE pedophiles.)

You make some good points.

Alright, I'll take the correction on Bege telling him her name. But that still doesn't give any other details. Sanji isn't told her age, occupation, baking skills, etc.

I have a lot to say on his intricate and nuanced forced relationship with Pudding.

Long post and discussion under the cut

As for for the history with teenage girls post-ts, I think it's just Shirahoshi??? And while I'm not saying that's good, I will say that I am conflicted on some of the characterization in Fishman Island. I haven't read it in a long time so I'm just working off what I remember here. While the plot of Fishman Island is great, I always have some issues with the arc itself. It always feels a little off to me. Like some of the characterizations are just a little wonky here and there throughout the entire arc. It feels like Oda forgot how to write a few characters. It also feels like he's using that arc to see how far he wants to push new gags or personality aspects he's trying to work with after the IRL mini timeskip. Like he doesn't quite know just yet who some of the straw hats are after their time skip. I'm not saying that excuses Sanji's behavior, I'm just saying it makes me conflicted over the legitimacy of Sanji's personality in that arc. Because like Oda doesn't use the "almost die from bloodloss gag" again after fishman island either so it just always kinda feels like Oda was fumbling around in the dark with Sanji (as well as a few others) in Fishman Island. That's just me, though.

As for Sanji being obsessed with Shirahoshi's beauty, wasn't that like the whole thing with her? Wasn't like the entire country obsessed with how pretty she was? I could be mistaken but I thought I remember the citizens being enamored by her as well. I ain't saying it makes it better, I'm just saying that Oda made that a weird prominent detail if I'm remembering it right.

And I didn't say that that Pudding was "mentally 18" nor do I think she is, I said that she could be mistaken for 18 in a quick meeting. Meaning he wouldn't question her age as he actually barely got to talk to her at all. I think he only ever spoke to her like 2-3 times and never for very long or unchaperoned (judging by how Pudding talked about Sanji). Especially since Pudding is an excellent actor and is actively manipulating Sanji in a specific way that Big Mom has coached her to do. Neither family cared if Sanji and Pudding liked each other or cared about what was healthy for them so they would have no reason to let them interact for very long. As someone who was emotionally abused by my mother, when I was a teenage I took on personality traits and speaking patterns of someone older than myself (a common problem with emotional abuse). People often mistook me for being older than I actually was in short conversations. If Sanji never had any actual long conversations with Pudding, he'd have no clue that's she's not actually 18. While this doesn't make things right, it would explain some behaviors.

He doesn't actually want anything to do with her. He just wants to go home.

As for what I consider Sanji basically brainwashing himself is just him talking himself into an obsessive and possibly dissociative mindset. Sanji's under so much duress and his mental health is so incredibly fractured right now that if he's going to survive, his only option is to construct a dreamworld so far out of reality that he's actually happy and in love with Pudding.

Because of the sudden influx of trauma, stress, and crippling hopelessness, Sanji's grasp on reality is quickly crumbling. He needs to take any handhold he can grab. The only handhold he's allowed to take is Pudding. He calls her his "Ray of Hope". And because of this, he throws himself so hard into her orbit that he goes to the extreme of being creepy because now his only grasp on reality is Pudding.

This protective delusional headspace he's in is so strong (again, common for people who have suffered severe trauma and abuse) that he stays in it until he sees her eye. Because he if didn't have this headspace to keep him "calm" beside his would-be murderer, the wedding ceremony on the cake may have ended in actual disaster. And all their plans would be ruined.

After he gets through to Pudding by calling her eye beautiful, the very real danger of him being murdered is gone and he's released from his protective headspace. Which explains why he's so platonic towards her during the escape and all the cake baking despite the fact that she's constantly melting when he even looks at her.

What I am saying is that if Sanji called out for simping on teenage girls was a definable trend in his personality, why is he never all over Carrot? From what I remember (and I could be wrong), he only ever treats her like a little sister. She's young and pretty but still in Zou Sanji simps over the adult women minks rather than Carrot, despite her platonically being all over him (minks are just very affectionate). Hell, he seeks out Pedro more than Carrot.

I'm not saying that Sanji shouldn't be called out for being a fucking perverted idiot. Because he is one. I'm just saying that it pisses me off when people write him off as a one-note creep not worth thinking about instead of taking the time to understand that Sanji is extremely nuanced far outside his single trait of being horny.

I will say that Sanji can be creepy but I don't get the vibe from him about being an active creep specifically towards teenage girls. Especially since he seems to prefer more mature women like Robin, Kiku, Viola or frightening women like Nami.

As for me taking things personally and getting physically ill. That's just me being stupid and having severe rejection sensitivity when it comes to Sanji. I wish it'd go away.

I think it all boils down to Oda having sus choices in character ages... It would have changed literally nothing if he had just made Pudding 18.

[discyours]

There is one group of trans/queer people who stand by ”women and men are so different and me being born in the wrongly sexed body is the reason why my feeling of actually being the opposite sex is so strong, just like any man/woman would if they suddenly had that mismatch done to them” and i think they are spoken about a lot. Thennn there are people who claim women and men are exactly the same, there is no sexual dismorphism at all to be found in humans and all is arbitrary so whatever gendered stereotypes you accumulate more in yourself - where you ”belong more” who you identify as more is who you are! Or you simply are not, you can not identify as neither a male nor a female which makes you none of them, or maybe both at the same time. But nothing is set in stone since there’s no real differences anywhere anyway! Im sitting here lyk..is there really nothing that sets us apart that they cant possibly think of? Amnesia of sorts, no idea. Long winded explanation lol what do you think about this take

It's grey thinking so rigid it becomes black and white again. There's no obvious sexed differences that are consistent across the full 100% of people who are assumed to be male/female at birth, therefore male/female are meaningless and undefinable terms. To be completely honest, and I say this as an autistic person, I think the prevalance of autism in the trans community is a huge part of this. It's a refusal to accept rules that don't make sense and it's an inability to make sense of rules that don't operate with full and absolute consistency. Autistic people don't respect authority for authority's sake so if the system doesn't make sense then fuck it, throw it out.

[freyayuki]

Dissidia Final Fantasy: Opera Omnia Dorgann Klauser and Celes Chere Banner

The Guardian of the Crystals event just started in the Dissidia Final Fantasy: Opera Omnia (DFFOO) mobile game. This event came with 1 banner.

Guardian of the Crystals Banner

The Guardian of the Crystals banner features the following chars and their weapons:

Celes Chere from Final Fantasy VI - Burst or BT only

Dorgann Klauser from Final Fantasy V - 15cp, 35cp, Ex, LD, and Force or FR

Galuf Halm Baldesion from Final Fantasy V - 15cp, 35cp, Ex, and LD

Lyse Hext from Final Fantasy XIV - 15cp, 35cp, Ex, and LD

Have everything on this banner except for Dorgann’s weapons. Dorgann is the latest playable char to be introduced in DFFOO so have nothing for him.

Thoughts about Dorgann Klauser from Final Fantasy V

I like Dorgann Klauser from Final Fantasy V (#ad) well enough, I suppose, although definitely wouldn’t call him a fave or anything.

It might be more accurate to say that my feelings towards him are neutral. I neither like nor dislike him. Don’t really know much about him.

Dorgann’s pretty good but I don’t think he’s meta or all that necessary. I mean, I don’t think I really need to pull for him.

He’s a pretty good wind elemental DPS who deals decent enough damage. He also has this gimmick of doing a follow-up attack every time a char breaks an enemy.

Because of this, he has pretty good synergy with Sephiroth from Final Fantasy VII. That’s because one of the effects of Seph’s BT+ is that it will set the BRV of all enemies to 1 for 4 turns.

Sephiroth is actually the main reason why I’m interested in Dorgann. I talk more about this in other posts, but I’ve been using Sephiroth for Lufenia (level 200), Lufenia+ (level 250), and Shinryu (level 300) quests basically ever since I got his LD and BT.

My Sephiroth is as fully built and maxed out as he can possibly be. He is Level 90 and Crystal Level 90. His 15cp, 35cp, Ex, LD, and BT are fully MLB. His Ex is at Ex+ 3/3 or Purple. His Burst weapon has been upgraded to BT+ 3/3 or Green.

Seph’s currently equipped with a Level 5 of 5 Greatsword Ultima Weapon. His High Armor’s been upgraded to Blue. His Summon Boards, Character Enhancement Boards, and Force Enhancements have been completed. He has his Bloom Stone.

Sephi has 3 Attack 108 with Max Brave 330 Artifacts and 3 Attack 108 with One-Winged Angel Boost★★ (Raises INT BRV, MAX BRV, ATK, DEF by 5% if HP is MAX at start of last wave) Artifacts.

Sephiroth is equipped with the following real A Spheres:

Edgar Roni Figaro’s (from Final Fantasy VI) Debuff Power

Increases BRV damage dealt by 10% while an enemy is debuffed

Cloud Strife’s (from Final Fantasy VII) Critical Power

Raises BRV damage dealt with critical hits by 10%

Vayne Carudas Solidor’s (from Final Fantasy XII) Broken Power

When attacking target afflicted with Break: • Increases BRV damage dealt by 10%

Sadly, it’s been a while since Sephi last got updated so he’s been kinda powercrept by now. He still works well enough, and I have been able to keep on bringing him to endgame content but still.

He could definitely use another rework and upgrade. Heck, he doesn’t even have a Force weapon yet, not even in the Japanese version of Dissidia Final Fantasy: Opera Omnia.

Really looking forward to the time wherein he’ll finally get his own FR. I hope he gets a good one.

Anyway, I was thinking about pulling for Dorgann so I can use him with Sephiroth.

But I don’t know if I really want to spend the resources needed to build Dorgann. I don’t know if it’ll be worth it to do so.

Ahh, if these resources weren’t so scarce, I’d readily build and max out all my chars in this game. As it is, really have to be selective in who to build.

Guardian of the Crystals Banner Free First Multi-Draw Results

As part of the Black Friday campaign, we get a free multi-draw on the Guardian of the Crystals banner.

Wasn’t really expecting to get anything good from the free pull. I thought I’d just end up with a dupe or 2. So imagine my surprise when a Burst orb actually showed up.

OMFG! Totally wasn’t expecting this at all. Didn’t think I’d actually get a Burst orb from this free draw. Wow! This is great!

I’m pretty sure this isn’t the first Burst weapon I ever got from a free pull. But at the moment, can’t remember which BT I got for free and when such an incident happened.

I’m pleased to see this Burst orb and Celes’s BT. It’s just that - well, it’s just too bad that I already have a copy of Celes’s Burst so the one I got just now was nothing more than a dupe.

Ah, well. At least dupe Bursts can be sold for 5 BT Tokens. You can then use 50 Tokens to exchange for a Burst weapon of your choice.

Anyway, this was still a really good free draw. Aside from Celes’s BT, this pull also gave me a dupe of Lyse’s 15cp.

Guardian of the Crystals Banner Tickets Pulls Results

Still not sure if I want to fully build Dorgann or not. For now, decided to see if I can get all of his weapons using my tickets. Don��t want to gem this banner since I’m not even sure if I’ll bother to max out Dorgann even if I get all of his gear.

Currently have 219 tickets on hand.

Aside from the usual bronze and silver trash, including 10-draws with not a single gold, and 15cp and 35cp gold dupes, also got the following:

2/10, came from a gold orb - dupes of Lyse’s Ex and Galuf’s 15cp

To my surprise, it wasn’t long before a Force orb showed up. Nice.

Super pleased to have gotten my very first copy of Dorgann’s FR.

This is the first weapon I ever got for Dorgann since I decided to pull on the Guardian of the Crystals banner first before playing through the story event that came with this banner.

So getting this weapon also automatically recruited Dorgann and added him to my chars or allies list.

As if getting Dorgann’s FR from this 10-draw wasn’t already more than enough, this pull also gave me my very first copy of his LD.

Hell, yes! Awesome pull is awesome. Now I just need Dorgann’s Ex then I can be done with this banner.

We’ll get a free copy of Dorgann’s 15cp just by playing through his event. Then I can just use my Weapon Tokens to exchange for a copy of Dorgann’s 35cp.

Was down to 199 tickets when Dorgann’s FR and LD came home.

1/10, came from a gold orb - dupe of Galuf’s LD

Meh. Wish that had been a dupe of Dorgann’s LD instead so I could have used it to limit break the copy I already have.

Also got 10-draws that gave me copies of Dorgann’s 15cp. Have yet to see his 35cp or Ex though.

4/10, came from a gold orb - dupes of Lyse’s 15cp, Dorgann’s 15cp, Lyse’s Ex, and Dorgann’s 15cp

2/10, came from a gold orb - dupes of Galuf’s Ex and Lyse’s 15cp

Ugh. Wish that Galuf Ex had been Dorgann’s instead so I can be done with this banner already. Dorgann Ex, doko da?

As my ticket count started dwindling, I began to lose hope of ever seeing Dorgann’s Ex.

Thankfully, Dorgann’s Ex eventually showed up. It came from a gold orb.

Really pleased to see this weapon. Now I can finally be done with this banner. Still don’t have Dorgann’s 35cp but it’s fine. I’ll just Token it.

This 10-draw also gave me a dupe of Lyse’s 35cp.

Was down to 89 tickets when Dorgann’s LD came home. So glad I was able to get Dorgann’s EX, LD, and FR before running out of tickets.

Dorgann Klauser from Final Fantasy V

Had enough dupes of Dorgann’s 15cp to be able to fully MLB my first copy without having to use a single Power Stone.

Haven’t even played through the Guardian of the Crystals story event yet so still haven’t gotten the free Dorgann 15cp.

Have 1473 Weapon Tokens or Power Tokens, so I readily spent the 100 I needed in order to get 4 copies of Dorgann’s 35cp. This way, wouldn’t need to spend a single Power Stone in order to MLB said weapon.

After limit breaking Dorgann’s 15cp and 35cp, I eyed the rest of his weapons, wondering if I should go ahead and spend the resources needed to fully MLB them.

After thinking about it some more, I spent the 12 Power Stones needed to MLB Dorgann’s LD.

Then I spent 12 more Power Stones to MLB his Ex. Also spent the Book and 3 Ingots needed to Purple Dorgann’s Ex or get it to Ex+ 3/3.

I equipped Dorgann with his Force weapon but couldn’t bring myself to spend the High Power Stones needed to fully MLB it. At least not yet and not right now. Still need to think about this some more.

I got all of Dorgann’s armors and spent the resources needed to MLB all of them. Also got his High Armor and spent the Book needed to Realize it to 0/3. For now, opted not to Blue his High Armor.

Got Dorgann to Level 90 and Crystal Level 90. Bought his Bloom Stone. Completed all of his Summon Boards but didn’t get any of his Force Enhancements yet.

Unlocked parts of his Character Enhancement Boards, particularly the tiles that would give me his LD extension passive.

Equipped Dorgann with the following RF Spheres: Seven’s (from Final Fantasy Type-0) RF A Sphere, Edgar Roni Figaro’s (from Final Fantasy VI) RF A Sphere, and Seymour Guado’s (from Final Fantasy X) RF E Sphere.

Started farming for Dorgann’s Artifacts but I’m having trouble getting him triple of his preferred Arts which is 3 ATK 108 with Warrior Protecting the Seal Up★★ (While With Precious Memories active: raises own MAX BRV, ATK by 5%).

I keep getting crappy and useless Arts. Also somehow ended up with a few ATK 108 with MAX BRV 330 and MAX BRV 330 with Warrior Protecting the Seal Up★★ Artifacts.

Well, the Guardian of the Crystals event is still ongoing so gonna keep on farming the co-op quest so I can get more of Dorgann’s Eidojas. Hopefully, I can get his perfect Artifacts soon.

In the meanwhile, also need to think about what I’m gonna do about Dorgann. Should I max him out and fully build him? Doing so is gonna cost me a lot.

I’m not even sure how useful he’s gonna be. I mean, I know he comboes well with Sephiroth but right now I already have other chars that I’m using with Sephi, and these chars are really freaking good.

I’m talking about Tifa Lockhart from Final Fantasy VII and Rinoa Heartilly from Final Fantasy VIII. They’re my current main DPS. I just switch between the 2 depending on what the fight needs or who I feel like using.

So my team is usually either Tifa or Rinoa, Sephiroth, and the third is almost always a support like Aeris or Aerith Gainsborough from Final Fantasy VII or Lunafreya Nox Fleuret from Final Fantasy XV.

This kind of team works pretty well. Yeah, I wouldn’t say that Sephiroth has much synergy with Tifa or Rinoa. In fact, Tifa and Rinoa would do even better if I dropped Sephi and brought in another support char or a char who can deal off-turn or counter damage or something.

But still. Even if Seph’s the weak link in this team, said team still works well enough. This team can get the job done.

And actually Sephiroth’s damage isn’t that bad since aside from being fully built and maxed out, he’s also wielding a Level 5 of 5 Ultima Weapon. This really helps to boost his damage output, and he gets to deal respectable enough damage.

It’s just that Tifa and Rinoa are so meta that they easily outdamage him. It doesn’t help that my Tifa and Rinoa are also fully built and maxed out. They already have their Force weapons. And they’re carrying their own Level 5 of 5 Ultima Weapon.

Anyway, the point is, I’m not sure about adding Dorgann to my team. I mean, who am I gonna drop so I can make use of Dorgann?

Obviously, I can’t drop Sephi. So I suppose it’s between my DPS and support but - yeah, I don’t know.

Dorgann doesn’t even have a Burst weapon of his own yet so I don’t think he’s gonna be able to hit harder than either Tifa or Rinoa.

Just took Dorgann to a battle and you know what? He is pretty good. Well, it was an easy quest but still. His playstyle’s pretty interesting.

Seeing him doing his follow-up attacks every time a char breaks an enemy had me seriously considering fully building him.

I started looking up videos of Dorgann in action. Found a lot that showcased him fighting against the boss in his own event’s Shinryu quest. There were lots of vids that included Sephiroth too.

But I couldn’t seem to find much of other videos that showed Dorgann in other Shinryu quests.

After trying to search for more information about Dorgann, I found out that he’s apparently gonna be resisted in a lot of the upcoming Shinryu quests after his event. I suppose that’s the reason why I hardly saw any videos about him that weren’t about his own event’s Shinryu fight.

When I saw that info about Dorgann being resisted for a lot of upcoming Shinryu fights, I lost all interest in fully building him. Now I’m fine with just leaving him like this.

I don’t regret Purpling Dorgann’s Ex or fully limit breaking his 15cp, 35cp, Ex, and LD but that’s all I’m gonna do for him for now. Not gonna bother to spend any more resources on him. If I’m not gonna be able to use him anyway, then what’s the point?

Update: continued farming for Dorgann’s Artifacts. Must have fused hundreds of Dorgann’s Artifacts by now but have yet to get a single ATK 108 with Warrior Protecting the Seal Up★★.

Instead I just keep getting crap and more crap. Also somehow ended up getting  more copies of MAX BRV 330 with Warrior Protecting the Seal Up★★ to the point wherein I eventually managed to get 3 that only cost 5 CP each.

After what felt like forever, I finally got 1 of Dorgann’s perfect Artifacts. Thankfully, it didn’t take long before I got more copies. Even managed to get 2 perfect Artifacts at once.

One of them costs 15 CP though. At least I didn’t need to keep this one since I also managed to get another ATK 108 with Warrior Protecting the Seal Up★★ that has a lower CP cost.

So glad to finally have triple of Dorgann’s perfect Artifacts. Now I can finally stop farming this event’s co-op quest. Already got all the items I want from the Guardian of the Crystals event exchange shop so have no more reason to farm this co-op.

Conclusion

So, what about you? Did you pull on the Guardian of the Crystals banner? What do you think about Celes Chere, Dorgann Klauser, and all the other chars featured on this banner? Feel free to share your thoughts and opinions by leaving a comment below or by reblogging or replying to this post.

Notes:

screenshots are from my Dissidia Final Fantasy: Opera Omnia game account

[macabrecake]

HI CAKE IM HERE WITH AN RE6 LEON IDEA: Maybe during the plane ride to China, Leon finds out that reader was severely injured (perhaps has broken ribs or a stab wound/gash) and was trying to hide it until she suddenly coughs/throws up blood, and he takes reader to the bathroom to help her out/scold her when reader is like "i didn't want you to worry about me, boss" skssswidbdid maybe rookie! Reader? loVE YOU <3 MWAH

YES! LOVE ME SOME PROTECTIVE RE6 LEON! This took a minute and I'm sorry about that but here ya go! ❤️

Leon's eyes are sharp. Some could even joke that his gaze could very well put a hawk to shame. Even if it weren't a joke, you'd believe it. So the moment you found that deep red splotch on your gloved hand, and tasted copper on your tongue, after you coughed- you knew you were fucked. Because if you could see it, then Leon definitely could see it too. And you would be correct when the man sitting across from you is up in a flash and quickly hauling you off to the airplane's bathroom without a word.

Only Leon could ever make silence still seem utterly loud.

You swore you were gonna tell him sooner, but the mission took so many unexpected turns you weren't sure when would've been the right time. Now you can't even bring yourself to lock eyes with the blonde agent while he works on cleaning and bandaging the wound inflicted to your side. Which was bigger than you originally thought- feeling him have to slightly move your bra upwards more to disinfect the whole thing. Not that you have to risk being burned by Leon's intimidating stare anyway, just by the tone of his voice, you know he isn't happy.

"What the fuck were you thinking not telling me about this?" He speaks lowly while wrapping the gauze around your torso, while you keep your shirt out of his way and sit quietly. Feeling so small before him. "I mean for Christ's sake y/n. Your whole side is a mess, you could have broken ribs, and possibly an infection. Yet you're treating it like it's a damn paper cut." You lightly flinch, but not from the pain, Leon normally uses nicknames when addressing you. Things like- Rookie, Sunshine, Princess, and Little Miss.

It's not often he uses your actual name. Let alone say it with such anger. That's what truly sets in stone that you really messed up. Eventually, once you're wound is fully dressed, Leon steps away and crosses his arms, still glaring at you and waiting for an explanation. "Answer me, agent..."

His command makes you tense up slightly before releasing a small sigh as you finally pick your head up to try and at least glance at him. "I wasn't sure when would've been the right time to tell you. I mean the President's dead and now the three of us are fugitives." You explain with a sense of defeat, your eyes quick to fall away from your superior and look at the floor instead, your tone growing quieter. "There's already so much you have to worry about. I didn't want you to worry about me too."

The angry crease in Leon's brows soften at your answer as he uncrosses his arms. Feeling a pang of guilt for snapping at you now. He could say you shouldn't hide things like that just for other people's sake, but that would make him a hypocrite. The man knows he'd do the exact same thing. Hell, he's never stopped doing that. Leon slowly moves back towards you in order to help you slip your weapons harness back on, being careful to not make it too tight against your side.

"You know, I've been given orders to make you one of my top priorities. So it's technically my job to worry about you." The agent muses, his tone softer now. Letting a small smile tug at his lips when you fully look up at him. "Meaning, don't hold out on me when you're hurt like this. Especially if it's this severe. Just... Talk to me, ok?" He asks, bright blue eyes holding a silent plea as his thick fingers somehow find their way to be intertwined with your nimble ones. You'd both glance down, but find that neither you nor Leon would let go right away, if anything you lightly squeeze his hands with a smile and nod. "Ok."

The agent mirrors your smile before reluctantly letting his fingers retreat to help you off the counter and opens the bathroom door for you. "Now let's go kick Simmons' ass." Your smile breaks into a full grin, more than ready to take that bastard down, "Yes sir!" Your excitable response rewards you with a chuckle from Leon as he follows you back to your seats. Little do you know, the government never actually gave Leon those orders. But that isn't stopping him.

You're his main priority.

[teklarn]

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 (𝓹𝓽. 2)

 character(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader 

a/n: ok so i just started writing on tumblr and honestly in my opinion for my first time posting smth on this the first part did really well thank u for all the likes :) (told from second pov; e.g you, your) reblogs are greatly appreciated :))

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention. 

genre: a lil bit angsty 

warnings: cursing, jealousy, mutual pining, slow burn romance, aged-up to third year, love triangle (square?), physical injuries, kirishima gets a little toxic, also shirtless bakugou (awooga), a crap ton of time skips bc i can’t write action scenes for shit, bakugou is a flirt (lowkey but yeah), mentions of blood 

word count: 2112

pt 1 , pt 3

- - - 

kirishima had broken the skin on his lower lip with how hard he was biting it. he stood in the bathroom, rinsing his mouth, ignoring the slight sting the water brought. 

y/n was currently being blasted by bakugou, and they were fighting back. 

jealousy panged in his chest. 

bakugou had never let him know about how he felt about you, however kirishima was sure he felt something for them. you and bakugou were both a jumble of prideful and longing stares towards each other from across every room. the tension was thick enough to slice through. and while kirishima would never make a move in fear of ruining the friendship between him and bakugou, as well as him and y/n, gosh it didn’t stop him from wanting to. 

he’d stood on the side, cheering you on to no end. the sports festival last year, the year before that, training exercises, he was always there. kirishima was always there. 

whenever you needed him, whenever you wanted his company. so what did bakugou have over him? sure, the blond was strong and had bigger goals than kirishima, but why should that matter? 

what did bakugou have? why would you want him more when he was never near you? never made an effort to see you to be there when you asked for help. 

it was popular belief that bakugou was a noisy idiot, but he was actually quite a quiet boy. he didn’t bother to raise his hand in class, however he always knew the answer. he spoke rarely and only made conversation with those he was close with if they were the ones to make the effort to converse with him first. 

jealousy, jealousy, jealousy. kirishima despised it. 

whenever did he begin wanting to beat bakugou at something? 

the cloud of guilt welling up in his chest was going to become unbearable, and soon everything he ever wanted to say was going to come up like word vomit at the worst possible time. 

- 

you swiped at your cheek, brushing off the crumbling dirt. your timing had been off, and their flip backwards had landed you in an awkward position. a vulnerable one. 

honestly, though, it wasn’t like it really mattered. bakugou was a bit transparent himself. he wore a smug look like a golden medal, and held back his power just enough to keep you on your feet. 

his cocky attitude was irritating and it drew you in like a moth drawn to a lamp. 

sweat was beading down your temple. the day was exceptionally hot, the sun beaming down on your back like a proud child. 

you and bakugou had been at it for a while. with anyone else, you would have quit by now. it’s not that you gave up easily. no, not ever. but fights could get boring, especially if you were just smashing away at them with your quirk and they were acting like they could take it. 

perhaps you were being cocky. 

this fight, though. this was interesting. not only because it was bakugou; also because you knew so little about him. 

it was likely he never shared anything important to anyone. he was quite introverted. 

it was interesting for another reason. 

it was hot, bakugou sweats a lot. gosh, he looked delicious without a shirt on. he had a built figure accompanied by strong arms and a broad chest. 

he’d filled out quite nicely the past few years. you hadn’t noticed until now how much he’d grown. 

“don’t get distracted.” 

your eyes snapped up from his chest to his eyes. bakugou became a blur, shooting himself off the ground and flipping once in the air before propelling himself back down. 

before you could do anything, bakugou had you pinned, one leg pinning yours, both his hands wrapped around your wrists. he’d ditched his gauntlets, leaving the metal assistants in the sweltering heat, claiming he wanted to give you an equal fight. 

he panted atop you, hands tightening. 

tokage didn’t bother to leave her dorm today, thank goodness. it had just been the three of you. you, bakugou, and kirishima. 

the red head had suspiciously vanished halfway through the fight, though.

bakugou’s crimson eyes bored into yours. neither of you blinked for a moment. perhaps just a small eternity each of you silently reveled in. 

his erratic breaths slowed, and so did yours, although you stayed the same. unmoving, faces neutral but eyes giving away long-held secrets. 

your ears flushed, and butterflies came rising up uncontrollably. you should have pushed him off. instead you gave him a wicked grin, which earned a look from him and you couldn’t tell if he was confused or annoyed. 

“your big ass forehead is blocking the bright-as-hell sun. stay like this,” you mocked, wrenching your wrists from his grasp and snaking your arms around his neck. 

his cheeks burned red. “w-what?” 

“you heard me.” 

he scoffed, tugging you off his neck and standing. “shut up, shitface. we aren’t even done yet.” he readied himself in a fighting stance once more. 

“i thought you said you wanted to stop when you won?” you brushed yourself off as you stood. 

“i know what i said. you probably weren’t even giving it your all.” 

“’course i was.” you cocked your head. “why wouldn’t i?” 

“you’re strong, damn idiot.” 

you feigned surprise, pressed a hand to your fluttering chest. “the bakugou, dynamight himself, complimenting a humble soul like me? oh, i really must be good, then.” 

“not as good as me.” his face dropped from a smile. bakugou never got enough training no matter how early or late he stayed up, or how many hours on the weekends were spent kicking a bag or sparring with friends. hard workers did all of the work there was a still wondered if they were doing enough. the number one spot wasn’t empty, but it was still reserved for dynamight. 

- 

y/n had collapsed on their bed. kirishima was itching to tell them how he felt, however he was stuck at the doorway. 

they weren’t even dressed for bed, nor were they showered. 

he settled with leaving his friend alone, and shut the door softly to find bakugou standing right behind him. 

kirishima jumped back, closing his eyes in relief. “bakugou. what the heck man?” 

“you’re creepy as shit.” 

“i- what? you were the one staring at me while i-” 

“while you peeped in on y/n?” 

“i wasn’t peeping. i walked them back after the fight and they just collapsed. you were off doing something else and you worked them too hard.” 

it wasn’t a shock that bakugou was still riled up from the duel. this boy had the energy of a mad man. 

when bakugou didn’t say anything, kirishima said once again, “you overworked them.” 

bakugou swat away the comment. “only because they’re not working hard enough.” 

kirishima raised an eyebrow. “they work hard. they’re perfectly fine.” 

“fine?” 

“they’re amazing.”

“i know that, shitty hair. you think i’m blind?” 

“everyone can make improvements at their own pace.” kirishima’s voice dropped. 

“you train with me.” 

“it’s an hour before curfew.” 

bakugou jut a thumb in the direction of the door. “so? maybe you need some more practice, too,” he joked. 

“you’re an ass, bakugou,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle. 

the two wandered off to one of the training grounds. it was open, a wide court where they’d both kicked someone else’s ass. 

the sun was just setting, a new cool breeze coming to fill the spot of the violent sun rays. 

it was routine to fight each other out of nowhere. kirishima was usually quite playful, spewing jokes once in a while and taunting his friend. 

this fight was different. his face was stone-cold. kirishima often took the defensive role, as his quirk didn’t allow him to project any direct attacks to bakugou.

it wasn’t like kirishima was angry at bakugou, but as soon as they started charging towards one another, he couldn’t hold back. his chest tightened, arms hardening and joints becoming strong and stiff. 

with one clean sweep of his arm, bakugou was backing away from kirishima, propelling himself to the edge of the arena with a small blast. he’d always been up for a challenge. kirishima was willing to give him one. 

his sudden competitive demeanor seemed to be egging on bakugou’s. the blond tongued the inside of his cheek, grunting as he shot forth, hair flying wildly. 

swiftly, kirishima dodged, just barely missing a blast. his torso wasn’t hardened, so if he’d dodged any later, his stomach would have been scorched. 

bakugou always took their fights seriously. he knew better than to underestimate the boy who had put together his very own rescue mission. 

kirishima’s opponent stumbled from the momentum. he took his chance and brought a hardened elbow down on bakugou’s back, hearing a satisfying crack. 

bakugou was crushed to the ground with the hit. his face smashed into the sandy ground. he coughed, turning over and spitting dirt to the side. 

it took a moment for him to register what he did, but kirishima was at bakugou’s side within seconds. the sun was nearly gone, a pale blue sky flickering with the first sights of stars. 

it was hard to make it out at first, but not impossible. kirishima saw the blood dripping and smeared just above bakugou’s lip. he groaned, cupping his face in both hands as he sat upright. 

“argh” bakugou gasped. “shit, kirishima. what the hell?” 

“i...i’m sorry dude, i didn’t mean to.” i wanted to, but i didn’t mean to. 

bakugou raised an eyebrow and let a smile seep through his pain. “you’re improving, though.” 

“are you alright?” kirishima traced the small cut on his lip from earlier with the tip of his tongue. 

“i’m fine, i’m fine.” bakugou swatted his hand away. he struggled to get up, refusing kirishima’s help. 

“we should head back before this gets any worse.” 

bakugou kept his large hands hovering under his chin to catch the dripping and occasional chunks of blood.  

although he wanted the duel to continue (it was finally interesting) bakugou wasn’t stubborn enough to keep going. so he nodded, once again denying kirishima’s efforts to help him out. 

- 

you were in the common area, fiddling with a rubik’s cube. it was just you, as everyone else was spending the night among each other. ashido had invited you to her dorm a while ago, but you’d denied, wanting to spend a few more giddy moments to yourself. 

the door rattled, and in came your two friends, one with furrowed brows and the other with blood drenching the front of his shirt. 

bakugou’s head was tilted up in an attempt to stop the blood from flowing down. his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the blood trailing down the back of his throat. 

“oh my gosh,” you gasped out, racing to the bathroom. you came back with sanitary wipes in one hand and tissue in the other. “what happened?” 

“we were training,” kirishima started, taking a few tissues from the box and handing them to his friend, “and i accidentally hit him too hard.” 

“you didn’t hit me that hard. you barely did any damage!” bakugou objected. you approached him, and through his fingers, bakugou peered down at you. 

you asked him with your eyes, and he gave you silent permission to pry his arms away from his face. “are you okay?” 

“i’m just dandy,” he scoffed. 

“dude, i’m really sorry—” 

“shut the hell up kirishima. i don’t want your pity. i swear this is the only time i’ll surrender to you, you asswipe.”

you didn’t laugh, not even a chuckle. “bakugou, you need to see recovery girl.” 

“what the hell? no way. all she’s gonna do is give me one of those shitty slobbery kisses and scold me for being careless.” 

“your nose is broken,” you said gently. 

“so? can’t you fix it?” 

you raised a questioning brow. “you want me to help you?” 

“can you or can you not?” 

“i can try to set it but you’re better off going to recovery girl instead of settling with―” 

“all i need is possible. i don’t want to deal with that old lady’s shit right now.” using the tissues kirishima had stuffed into his hand, he caught the remaining blood dripping down his nose. “let’s go.” 

you were more than unsure. he would end up with a crooked nose if you made any small mistake, but he didn’t think twice as he grabbed your shoulder and led you in the direction of your dorm. 

- 

kirishima wished he hadn’t broken bakugou’s nose. not because he felt bad, though. 

[theramseyloft]

7/30/21

Waiting for the call from UGA to get Khou.

Doing the most urgent loft work in the meantime.

Just finished mucking nest boxes.

The time has come to employ the loft's little tower fan.

As well insulated as it is, it's still a metal building and the AC unit just cannot complete.

Blowing at full strength, you can't feel it more than 6 in from the vent.

Good gawd, I started at 7:30am, and it is SO humid that in an hour of work, I'm dripping, and have developed the tell-tale muscle aches, nausea, and lip-tingling of heat exhaustion.  Came in to cool back down after setting up the tower fan.

Patron: "A fan in the window would help"

"The easiest way to keep a space as cool as possible is to create a path of airflow"

Thank you

Ok!

Breakfast eaten, water get, time to resume!

I laid this fucking brick out to hose down yesterday...

The Fire Nation used it as scaffolding to build a nursery and fill it with larva that quickly.

This is why I have to be so aggressive about treating them, and why my loft help just turning the bricks and weight stones shit side down is so dangerous.

Patron: "Holy shit! Fire ants are insane."

Patron: "They are an aggressive species from the Amazon, of course they're aggressive and quick lol"

Patron: "Oh! They are not native to the US? I never knew that! I just remember learning very quickly when we moved to the south from Canada that they are mean little bastards"

They are not!  

They are adapted to the river banks and survive the frequent flooding by clinging together in living rafts.  

An individual can hold her breath up to 14 days, allowing the rafts to survive until they make landfall again.  

They really love the American south because the high humidity keeps soil moist enough to build mounds in very quickly without the disruption of floods to cause breaks in reproduction.

Patron: "That explains so much"

They are able to remain in constant larva factory mode, and with all US populations only coming from a few accidentally imported queens, they are closely enough related not to see any other US fire ant colony as a rival.

So the entire US population of fire ants is a single massive supercolony with neither predators nor competition.

Patron: "That is super disturbing"

"But also very informative."

Yeah, they are monsters here that absolutely will hunt and eat you if they get the opportunity.

My husband and I used to have our bed against the wall.

The little bitches swarmed in by hundreds through a hole in the insulation one night in the second year we were married, infested the blankets, and woke us up by stinging us en mass.

Patron: "i cant imagine how fucking horrifying that was to wake up to"

I still have nightmares.  

I can't fall asleep by laying there with my eyes closed.  

You know how there are always after images when you close your eyes? Usually just meaningless, wandering patches of light and dark?  

That's what the swarm on my skin looked like in the dark, and instead of just being patches of light and dark, my asshole brain highlights their segments, legs, and animates their attack behavior of clamp on with jaws, sting until prey stops moving, or ant is crushed or otherwise pried off.  

I get the most ungody adrenaline spike if I'm not too physically exhausted to notice the visual.

It makes trying to fall asleep a real bitch for me.

Got an update call about Khou.

They don't have a specific time for him to get his CT scan done, beyond that it will happen today.

If it happens late enough in the day that he won't be fully recovered from sedation by the time they close, we'll have to wait until tomorrow to come get him.

Patron: "How far is it to Athens from where you are? You said you took him to UGA right?"

Two hour drive.

Patron: "Hang in there. Fingers crossed they can do it early today"

Thank you.

Neither I, nor my husband are really ok with out him.

The house feels wrong...

Had to come back in for the permethrine.

The fire nation is trying a different foraging approach into the loft and fuck no.

Threshold treated.

Komodore asked Patch to smooch-feed her

Farthing tread Luxie.

Then he crouched to be tread and she, then Alex, tread him.

I think I was wrong about Mote.

Wukong looks lighter than he is because of his chest fluff.

Close inspection of their wings shows Mote to have the same pattern as Wukong, obscured by the deeper Dirty pigmentation of babies under 4 months.

Arco has been doing the best job helping Passenger set her Fegg.

Leela is quite insistently crouching for Nobu, but her foob kinda over balances her when he's on top, causing her to stumble into a tilted run under him to keep from faceplanting.

He hangs on with the brazen tenacity of a bull rider, and has managed to finish three times today.

It is exactly as hilarious as it sounds, and I'll try to catch it on video, if I can.

Look at Arco on his practice egg <3

Patron: "a grown boy!"

Just got an update from UGA.

khou just finished his CT, but they close at 5pm, and he's unlikely to have recovered enough to be discharged in two hours, even if I left right now.

The projected discharge is between 9 and 10am.

His little heart stopped.

(Pretty much every Patron sent their condolences)

Cousins: "We're on the way, Dani, I'm sorry!  30-40 minutes i think ..."

Can't wait.

We can go say goodbye, if we leave now and fold space.

Husband: "The vets are trying one more time to get his heart to start back up.  We are on the road now."

We got to UGA.  

No word on if the last effort succeeded.

Waiting for his Dr to come see us.

Husband: "He didn't make it."

Husband: "He had lesions in his lungs.  The sedation was too much for his damaged lungs to handle."

Patron: "im so sorry. is there any idea what the lesions are from?"

Husband: "Not yet.  They have not gotten all the results back from his tests yet."

"The vet took a clay imprint of his feet with his name on it."

Patron: "sending all the love to both of you"

Husband: "Thank you.  We both are recovering."

Thank you so much to all of my patrons for the outpouring of loving condolences.

[animereaderinsertwriter]

Signed, Sealed, Delivered (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Chapter 7

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

Chapter 8

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (im watching you, if you see this, begone!), MILD SPOILERS, also this is a sequel, the first work is here. (I promise it’s good, the formatting of the origi post is just a little plain cause I hadn’t figured out what I liked yet). There’s some… stuff in this, idk, its nothing much but check the description or ao3 tags if you’re not sure of how you feel about dads who are Assholes, lots of angst because yours truly is a masochist :)

Description:

Levi returns from the war with a broken body only to have his heart broken as well when he finds (Y/N) has gone away from her father’s farm never to return or so much as remember his name- or so her father says. (Y/N), recently returned from a medical emergency in a neighboring village, is informed of her lover’s death, and the ensuing grief is almost too much to bear.

Months later, (Y/N) finds herself trapped in her father’s house, and Levi finds a very interesting ad in the personals column of the newspaper. Letter-writing shenanigans ensue, and Gabi and Falco get ideas.

Ao3 link here

“I don’t like you, island devil.”

Levi closed his eyes. Falco quickly scolded Gabi, but the damage had been done. Levi didn’t have to look to know that (Y/N) was quietly leaning back in her chair and setting her fork down to study Gabi more closely. What would happen next, Levi couldn’t be sure, and he almost didn’t want to know.

They were halfway through an awkward breakfast with (Y/N) sitting across from him and Gabi and Falco on either side of her. When (Y/N) and Levi first woke and (Y/N)’s stomach had made her hunger known, Levi had insisted on making French toast— Falco’s favorite— and (Y/N) had put on a pot of coffee and set the table. It was like a normal morning between two normal people, if a little quiet, but the moment Gabi and Falco had trudged into the kitchen, that silence had become weighted and uncomfortable. At first, Levi thought he would rather be waterboarded, but that was until Gabi just happened to open her fat trap. Now he realized he’d rather fight a titan again than have this conversation.

Oh God, he had to fix this before (Y/N) decided to. He really didn’t want a second international war to start at his own kitchen table

“You will not speak to her like that under this roof,” Levi said, opening his eyes, glaring daggers at Gabi. “You don’t know the first thing— ”

“Levi.”

(Y/N)’s voice was soft, but final, and Levi turned to look at her.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” she told him, her eyes shining in the morning light, “But I’ve got this one.”

So saying, she turned to Gabi, and Levi held his breath.

“I appreciate your honesty.” (Y/N)’s voice did not raise in volume, nor did it change in tone. Hearing her speak was like floating on the surface of running water— buoyant and moving, but with the illusion of remaining stationary. “You look to be a smart girl, a confident young woman. It’s likely that you think that you’re untouchable. I certainly did at your age, and I didn’t fight in a war.”

Gabi opened her mouth to protest, but (Y/N) didn’t give her a chance.

“But I’ve been watching you this morning, child, and you have very obvious failings to the trained eye.” (Y/N)’s face was impassive, but her eyes were hard as stone. “I tell you this not to tease or insult you, but to make you understand the move you just made and why it’s premature. Listen well, and you may yet learn something.”

“I doubt I could learn anything from a gold-digging, back-stabbing hussy like you,” Gabi retorted, defiant, but before Levi could intervene, (Y/N) raised a hand to him.

“I’ve got this,” her eyes repeated, but Levi was more uncomfortable than he’d ever been in his life.

“You see, Gabi Braun, you know nothing about me,” (Y/N) told her. “And as much as you think you may know Levi, you don’t know him well either, or you would have realized your mistake before you made it. Understand this— there is a certain power women hold over men that is as real as it is effective, and as you grow older, you’ll understand more and more of what I mean. Nevertheless, regardless of your understanding of it, that power exists, and you just challenged it with no weapon, no shield, and certainly no strategy. Because you think you know me, you seek to frighten me from this table with your spite; because you think you know Levi, you think he will choose you, a faithful companion, over a woman who shares his bed. If I were a lesser woman, maybe that would have worked.”

(Y/N) paused, and Levi reminded himself that yes, breathing was good, very good, necessary , even.

“But I am no lesser woman,” she said, and Gabi rolled her eyes. “I’m strong, intelligent, and educated, and I love Levi more than anything else in this world. Titans, spies, terrorists, villains of any and every sort will— none of those things will ever be enough to frighten me away from him. Your little outburst at best would have turned Levi against either one or both of us had it proved effective, and even then, he would have resented being forced to choose between us— but I won’t allow that.”

(Y/N) reached across the table to grasp Levi’s hand— the right one, the one missing two fingers— and she smiled softly at him before speaking one final time.

“You’re free to dislike me as much as you wish,” she said, looking directly at Levi, “But I will never leave his side willingly, nor let you do so and hurt him in the process. You don’t have to like me— you don’t even have to speak to me— but you will not cause Levi any more pain than he’s already been through. I advise you this: collect a bit more data before you start hurling insults across the table and expect a favorable outcome. If you want to play games with the grownups, prepare to act like one instead of a petulant brat.”

The table was silent. Falco twitched nervously, and Levi was still in his mental happy place, decapitating Zeke again. Gabi stared at (Y/N), and (Y/N) stared at Levi, and no one said or did anything until Levi decided to take a sip of his coffee.

“Well,” he said, “If that’s all, I’m going to get a refill. Anyone else want more coffee?”

No one said anything, and Levi sighed, knowing what he had to do.

When he sat back down, fresh coffee in front of him, he said, “Great. So, which one of you is going first?”

(Y/N) and Gabi both turned to him with a funny expression, and Falco stuffed another piece of French toast in his mouth to keep from talking.

“You two are gonna tell your stories,” he elaborated, leaning back so he could cross his legs. “If you recall, this most recent international conflict and several generations of hate have happened because no one talked to each other— if we have to, we’ll sit here until someone shits their pants, but I refuse to live in a house with two spiteful women at each other’s throats. I’m too old to be caught in the crossfire.”

At that, (Y/N) let out a tiny giggle, and the corners of Gabi’s mouth twitched upward.

“My story’s better,” Gabi proclaimed, crossing her arms.

“Oh yeah?” (Y/N) challenged. “Bring it on.”

Good, Levi thought. Anything’s better than silence.

***

By the time the sun set, (Y/N) and Gabi had moved outside with their conversation, and they talked until they were both hoarse.

Levi was right— all they needed to do was talk. Gabi had been surprisingly forthcoming with stories about her homeland, then stories about the war, and the stories about Levi and how life here had been. Though all appearances had been to the contrary, Gabi was a real human with real human feelings like regret, and some of her stories broke (Y/N)’s heart. Likewise, Gabi seemed affected by (Y/N)’s own stories— ones of her childhood, then med school, and then how she met Levi— and a healthy respect formed between the two of them as they began to understand one another.

“You really love him, don’t you?” Gabi asked, nodding to Levi, who was fishing out by the stream.

“More than anything,” (Y/N) replied, thinking back to the days when they first met. “He’s a celebrity, you know— I always felt like he was prince charming in a fairy tale that I somehow stumbled into. If someone had told me when I was younger if I’d have someone like him, I’d have laughed in their face.”

A curse rang out as Levi accidentally dropped a fish back into the stream, and Gabi and (Y/N) both laughed.

“But you love him for more than that, right?” asked Gabi once they’d sobered. “Sure, he’s humanity’s strongest and all that rot, but—”

“Levi is more than just that,” (Y/N) smiled. “Yes, I know.”

Gabi paused, then asked, “How did you know you loved him, though?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I can’t pinpoint the day, the minute, or the hour, but… it had to be around the time he brought me an injured bird to one of our more clandestine rendezvous, and instead of proceeding with a sneaky date, we worked on fixing that poor broken wing. He was so gentle, so concerned— his face was all seriousness, but his eyes said everything I needed to know.”

Gabi rolled her eyes. “Simp.”

(Y/N) frowned. “Simp?”

“You’re too old, I can’t explain it to someone past their prime.”

“Past my— you brat!” (Y/N) laughed, digging her elbow into Gabi’s arm. “You’re incorrigible.”

Ignoring that, Gabi said, “I’m getting bored— tell me more Levi stories!”

(Y/N) hummed, thinking for a moment.

“Did I tell you he showed up drunk at my door, trying to confess his feelings?”

“What? No way!”

“Yes way,” (Y/N) laughed. “It went a little something like this… ”

***

“My heart leaps up when I behold

A rainbow in the sky:

So was it when my life began;

So is it now I am a man;

So be it when I shall grow old,

Or let me die!

The Child is father of the Man;

And I could wish my days to be

Bound each to each by natural piety.”

~William Wordsworth (The Rainbow)

[skaterfc]

continued: i assumed ghosts dont go to limbo because ghostbur wasnt there until he actually like died so i assume its more like switching places from the point that a character dies (im not sure how death and revival exactly works on the dsmp--this is my assumption). so i thought that was kind of how tommys ghost was canon ? cause hes the only one who hasnt had a ghost at all to this point but it could also be a plot hole. idk you have me thinkin

Alright this is gonna be long. Not in a bad way! This isn't discourse or anything, just analysis and that's just how it goes when talking about this stuff.

Long discussion about Ghosts on the DSMP ahead!

One thing you have to get straight about this, is that there is little consistency between all the ghosts on the DSMP. For this we are going to talk about our 4 confirmed ghosts, Boo, Ghostbur, Ghost Mexican Dream, and Glatt. (austinshow and velvet are both dead, but since they don't have ghosts (nor a time when they were alive for us to compare to) they will be left out of this "essay"(i can't believe i have to say this, only in the dream smp lmao)) The only consistent aspects I have found between all ghosts are as follows:

- A "washed out" color pallet/ grey skin and hair

- Overall more carefree (while they can have moments of distress, a neutral state for them is one of a carefree attitude)

- And a weakness that would "kill" them or send them back to limbo. For Ghostbur its water, for Glatt its the sun, for MD its possibly Quackity, and for Boo its doing a song and dance

That's all! you would think more fundamental aspects of ghosts need to be set in stone, but no. You would think that maybe ghosts need to be separate from their selves in limbo, but MD and Glatt both make reference of traveling back and forth between limbo and the overworld. Maybe the ghosts need to be stagnate characters, set in their ways and unwilling to learn or change, but Glatt goes through a whole character arc in Tales. They need to be happy? nope. They give out stuff that meant something to them when they were alive? also no. Its frustrating!

So, the the idea of Tommy not having a ghost while everyone else does is consistent with the inconsistencies of ghosts. Confusing, right? Never said the dream smp didn't have plot holes lol. So it is not out of the realm that Tommy is just special and didn't get a ghost, for some reason.

Lets look at what you said, though.

Limbo is weird. And that scene with Glatt in the gym is good for us getting to know more about limbo (and is really funny).

Im rewatching that section of the stream here for this, and the gym does seem to be Schlatts limbo. From Boo's description of what limbo is (a type of ball where sometimes the faces will cross into each other, and that is how people can see each other in limbo.) we could say that Schlatts gym is a place in limbo where this "face" of the "sphere" crosses into the overworld. Like a place where ley lines cross.

Then again, Schlatt also said that Wilbur would come in to the gym occasionally to annoy him, while Wilbur has said he did nothing of the sort, and has instead said that Wilbur couldn't leave the train station. So this might not be totally accurate.

When Schlatt alludes to Tommy here he does say "he comes down here" (present) but also its important to note that when this stream aired, Tommy had only recently been revived. (Quackitys vod says march 17th as its upload date, so the stream was likely a day or so before, and Tommy was revived on march 3rd) While limbo time works differently, we don't know what time Schlatt's gym operates in. In this encounter, real time, but who knows. Maybe when talking to different people time is different? How long does Schlatt think he's been dead for then?

Food for thought, but its also to be noted this clip does NOT prove Ghostinnits existence. I've been trying for like the past hour to find a clip where cc!wilbur said that Ghostinnit isn't canon, or at the very least he's not in limbo, but I've had no such luck. There is a very good unofficial vods channel for Wilbur so I'm sure someone more dedicated could look though those to find it exactly, but that's a bit overkill for me and for this haha.

Now for a bit easier thing to ... disprove? argue against? You were under the assumption that ghosts didn't go to limbo "because Ghostbur didn't go there until he actually died" and that's false!

The two ghosts we see instantly after revival are Boo and Ghostbur, and both actually talk about their experiences in limbo that they briefly had before getting put back into the world.

When Ghostbur comes back initially, several people asked him what death was like (i think mostly Tubbo and Quackity, this was like the day after the 16th), and while he insisted he didn't go to hell, he described death as "nothing." Sound familiar? maybe like Tommy's limbo?

But wait, why would Ghostbur's limbo and Tommy's be the same? And if the void was Ghostbur's limbo, why is he at the train station now? For the first one, we could take it as Tommy heard this description of what Ghostbur's death was like, and as such that's what he expected of limbo, so it became like that. It could be like the sphere thing, where Ghostbur just took a peak into either an empty space, or Tommy's limbo (if it pre-existed). Or we could take it as, since at this point, only Schlatt has died, there hasn't been enough time for a proper limbo to form for Ghostbur to see.

Which brings us to Boo (we'll get back to the train station). Boo didn't describe his limbo, so much as tell us that he was able to see Ghostbur crying at the train station limbo. And then went on to describe the ball thing. If that were the case, a Ghost's brief visit into limbo when they die (or are born) could be looking at a section of this "sphere." And limbo's for people only are on the "sphere" if there is someone to inhabit that limbo.

So when Ghostbur died, there was only 1 limbo on the "sphere" as such there was a lot of "blank space" and so Ghostbur saw nothing. When Boo died, there were more limbos there so he was able to peak into Ghostbur's limbo.

And when Ghostbur goes back to the train station, I believe that this is just a factor of Ghostbur and Wilbur being, at least from the same person, if they are not still the same. So they would have a smiliar limbos. Ghostbur just wasn't able to see it the first time around because it didn't exist yet (quite literally, cc!wilbur hadn't thought of it yet). It also to be noted, its not exactly the same as Wilbur's train station. Cc!Wilbur has said that it is dirtier, darker, and Wilbur had no TV's telling him what everyone said about him. This shows that this is Ghostbur's unique limbo, that while similar to Wilbur's, is his own.

I hope that makes sense! I know Boo's explanation of the way he thinks limbo works is confusing enough, so this could make it even worse haha.

One way I've seen that has the most merit for being canon is that Tommy did get a ghost, he just appeared in the prison cell with Dream (where he died, which is consistent with Ghostbur showing up where Wilbur died) and Dream killed Ghostinnit to revive Tommy. i think this is the most likely, if it were to be canon, but no other people from limbo have mentioned seeing Tommy's ghost, or Tommy since he died, save for that one Schlatt clip.

Finally, your totally good artemysty for not knowing how death and revival works. I don't totally know myself, and its not made very clear in canon so I don't blame you! I've seen even theories that the revive book is not a revive book at all, but a wish book where your wish is to bring the person back. (because when Dream tried to revive Techno they got a wish) We don't even know how many canon lives a person comes back with when they are revived! Why is it called "limbo" instead of "the afterlife"? Wouldn't limbo be Lady Death's domain? Why is Dream XD feeding on the souls there then, cursing them to a afterlife of misery? There are a lot of unanswered questions!

I saw a very good theory awhile back, i forget who by, but they said that Ghosts are possibly the parts of the person alive or the personality traits that that person didnt want others to see. Ranboo didn't want other to see his suicidal thoughts, Wilbur didn't want others to see his emotional heart, but Schlatt was confident til' the very end, and that's why his ghost is much the same.

I, somewhat similarly, thought that perhaps when someone dies, they are only split into two (a ghost version and a version in limbo) if they are a person with a lot of emotional turmoil. Where you are very divided in yourself, in your head. I think this works for Wilbur and Ranboo, since both tend to compartmentalize their past actions, seeing them as different people entirely (the different burs for Wilbur and Ranboo's enderwalk). And like I said before, both Schlatt and MD were much more confident in themselves.

Feel free to look into this with me! I am open to discussion here! I love talking about the ghosts on the DSMP, I'm even open to talking about hcs regarding Ghostinnit!

[haztory]

𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝. (2)

-chapter two: the story of us; warnings for this chapter include a brief discussion and mentioning of sexual assault. it is not described in detail nor does it happen to anyone in this fic. i will not ever be using sexual assault as a plot device as i think that’s unnecessary. however, because it is prevalent in female culture, or at least the discussion of it is, it is briefly mentioned.

if this makes anyone uncomfortable, please skip over! i will not be offended at all! 

-summary:  His eyes are a sea of green that you can't seem to stop drowning in.

a/n: this chapter is a doozy yall, im so sorry. this is mainly to serve as complete exposition of reader and iwa, so it’s hella long. i had an original idea of how i wanted this to go and then i started writing and this happened. lmfao. thank you all for being patient and loving and your comments are so wonderful! i had midterms all last week and all i could think about was writing this! so thank you all and i hope you all enjoy! next chapter will be pure chaos and fun!

i was listening to “cloud 9″ by beach bunny for this chapter! so that might help you understand how i see reader and iwa <33

(w.c.: 8,662 words)

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You’re ten years old when you meet Iwaizumi Hajime for the first time. 

He’s an inch shorter than you, skinny, hair set in an unorganized mess of spikes, and he smells of sweat. It’s the least enticing first impression you’ve ever encountered, wondering briefly if this is what all of Miyagi Prefecture has to offer.

Because if so, you’re not looking forward to it.

He’s blocking the entrance to the neighborhood park with his bike, back facing towards you and an arm stretched outward-pointing at something across the park. The same park that your mother has forced you to attend, kicking you out of your new home filled with moving boxes, a warm smile on her face and a simple request to “go have fun”.  

A request that was starting to seem like more of a problem than you anticipated. 

You’re halted in front of the gates to the area for a solid minute, the boy in front of you being less than aware of your presence as he continues to shout from across the park.

“Grab all of them, Oikawa!” 

There’s another boy roughly the same age holding several items that look to be action figures close to his chest. His face is scrunched up and his shoulders slouched as he takes exaggerated sluggish steps while crossing the courtyard. He’s sweaty too, just like the boy in front of you.

“But there’s so many, Iwaaa. Can’t you help me?” 

“You’re such a baby, Oikawa.” 

The one named Oikawa is about to respond when he stops his movements altogether. He merely points his finger, eyes fixated on something behind his black-haired friend.

You realize a bit too late that he’s pointing at you.

The friend, Iwa as he was called, turns his head with a questioning hum, green eyes meeting yours. A sea of emerald. 

“Oh,” he breathes out, voice high in timber and flooded in awkwardness, raising his hand in a shy greeting, “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” you respond in equal awkwardness, the kind that only a new kid can embody. Uneasiness has been settled into your bones ever since the move was announced, and now, as you stand before two physical embodiments of your displacement in this area, the feeling seems to sink even deeper into your stomach. “You’re blocking the entrance.”

“Huh? Oh! Sorry ‘bout that.” He begins a cumbersome shuffle of pushing the bike he was sitting on backward, small grunts escaping his mouth as he tries to make space for you to enter. It’s a slow process, considering he teeters from side to side and struggles to smoothly retreat from the space. Oikawa snickers in the background, some teasing words being aired that you are too far to hear, but they must be irking enough considering Iwa mutters a “shut up, idiot” in response.

The friendship is formidable, you don’t need to know them for long to see that. Envy and all its bitter acid coat your tongue.

“Are you the one that just moved in?” Oikawa speaks up.

You nod.

“How old are you? Are you going to Kitagawa Elementary? Have you already—”

Iwa interrupts the ferociously excited boy with a gentle scoff, “Calm down, Oikawa. Give her some air. Geez.”

“I just want to know more about the new girl, Iwa-chan!”

“Yeah, well you’re doing it wrong.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes and clutches the toys in his arms tighter, “You do it then!”

“Do what?”

“Introduce us! Make friends!”

“I think you blew it already.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun. If she’s going to the same place as us, she might as well join us! What do you say, new girl?”

You’re shaken from the brief exclusion of the conversation— realizing they’re including you this time—  when Iwa tears his eyes away from his friend and meets yours once again. Upon connection with the emeralds, your throat constricts your throat and the relief of ease washes over. The hesitancy that was bubbling in your stomach starts to dissipate when he looks at you— almost comforted by his dark yet steady stare— but the sense is quickly replaced by something else that shakes you. Your skin prickles, like fire ants marching up the pattern of your skin, and your palms start to sweat despite the cooling temperatures and the light breeze blowing against your skin. 

You’d have to tell your mom about this, just to make sure you weren’t getting sick.

“Would you like to join us?” Iwa asks. There’s no trace of a smile on his face but the invitation isn’t lacking in warmth. It’s a subtle kind, almost imperceptible if it weren’t for the look of curiosity residing upon his features. He speaks gently, like there wasn’t a distance between you two and another person listening in on the conversation, pointing his question and attention solely at you. There was a center of his gravitational pull and it was in your direction.

He’s waiting for your answer, and not the kind that results after courteously asking someone a question; You can tell he is really waiting, wanting to know what you say because his eyes hold onto yours in a way that is much more mature than a boy at the tender age of ten should be looking at someone.  

He’s sincere. He doesn’t even know you and yet he waits upon you as though your response were one he was to weigh considerably with his agenda. He’s a stranger, only said two things directly to you, and yet you feel weightless in the most minute of his attention. 

The rocks of anxiety that were sitting heavily in your stomach for the past month have disappeared and the answer that he waits so intensely for comes rather naturally. It’s the surest you’ve felt in a while. You don't know them at all, aren't even sure if you'll like them, but what would you be other than a fool to not follow the path of certain safety laid out in front of you, disguised as a black-haired boy with the spiky hair? How can you be sure unless you don't see for yourself?

“Yeah,” you sigh out, burdensome weight lifting off your shoulders at the answer, “Can I?”

“Yeah. You can.” He affirms with a nod, the corner of his lips quirking upward. Oikawa, rather befittingly, shouts a cheer, resuming his incessant chatter in throwing an onslaught of questions your way but you’re not listening. Pulled elsewhere you find your gaze being drawn back to the calm and steady boy, with the sea of emerald in his eyes.

“I’m Iwaizumi Hajime, by the way. And that’s Oikawa Tooru.”

“I’m (Y/N).” 

“Cool.”

You spend the whole day with them, quickly finding a natural place in their relationship, serving as the happy in-between of the flamboyant nature of Oikawa and the pillar of stone that is Iwaizumi. It’s fun, the most fun you’ve had in the entirety of your move that you find yourself trying to make some kind of excuse to extend the day when the sun starts to set. 

But Oikawa has to go home, and so does Iwa, and the disappointment is more than apparent on your face. There’s the unmistakable promise of seeing one another again, that of which was affirmed when Oikawa held out his pinky for you to take and solidify the statement on.

“I can walk you home if you want.” Iwaizumi tells you after you both wave your goodbyes to the other brunet. It’s a godsend, a miracle from the heavens who heard your building plight and decided to spare your jilted mind with some form of comfort. 

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you tell him, purely as a formality. Your mother’s lessons of never burdening others kicking into gear at his offer, but you plead, secretly in the deep recesses of your brain that he disagrees. Hope desperately that he’ll take the initiative and stay with you just a moment longer. 

He shakes his head, bearing a toothy smile that is missing one of his canines. “I don’t mind. My mom always tells me to make sure girls get home safe.”

Calm, steady, comforting. You selfishly agree before you have half a mind to say otherwise, “Okay. I live this way.”

And as he trails beside you, holding his bike in his hands as he walks at the pace you set, telling you the details about his favorite monster movie, you find yourself incredibly enamored with the short, sweaty boy that hates green tea and loves summertime.

And not for the first time.

You’re thirteen when you realize that you have a terribly, horribly, deeply incessant crush on Iwaizumi Hajime. 

It’s lunchtime and while you’re usually quick to eat with the resident bickering duo of Sendai, they’ve ditched you for volleyball practice— and not for the first time. So you sit with your other group of close friends, the ones you made through the conventional school setting, and not because they impulsively adopted you into their routine. They’re the necessary and equal balance to the growing testosterone you religiously spend your weekends with, so ultimately you’re not too upset at being left behind for a sport. 

Besides, it’s nice to be surrounded by girls who talk about normal things instead of sweaty violent boys that only talk about volleyball and occasionally the things you like.

Mai, a girl with a short bob that frames her round face, shakes the table with her loud laughter, the curtain of her hair swaying in tune to her joyful movement. She was the first friend you made in this group, and easily the one you’re closest to. The complete opposite of Hajime if her unabashed, frantic excitement is anything to go by. But much like the spaces in this Miyagi heart of yours that’s dedicated to Tooru and Hajime, there’s one for her too. She grabs onto one of your arms and holds it tightly, seeking stability as her melodic laughter rings through your table. 

It’s hard not to laugh alongside her. 

“Please!” She begs Yua, a blonde girl in the year above you, and wipes her eyes free from the laughter-induced tears, “No more! I’m gonna pee!”

Yua huffs, shrugging her shoulders to say that Mai’s inability to hold her urine was beyond her control, “I’m serious! That’s how I found out Kaito had a crush on me!”

“And what did you do?” You ask, laughter lacing your own words at the tale Yua expertly weaved, describing in excruciating detail how Kaito from your third period wrote a love letter comparing Yua’s lips to that of a whale as if that was somehow a compliment.

“I ran away! What else was I supposed to do?!”

Mai howls with laughter, her body being thrown against yours and her arms flailing with the movements, unable to contain herself. You’re almost identical, finding that you follow Mai’s gesticulation in perfect countering. Where she pushes you left, you move in sync, allowing her to lean her weight on you as you both lose yourself in the story.

For as much seriousness as she tries to implement in her words, the quirking of her lips betray Yua, “Laugh all you want, but wait ‘til this happens to you! Then you’ll get it!”

“I don’t think Mai and I have to worry about that,” you tell her, the remainder of your laughter dying out of your words. Mai snaps upward, her body no longer slumped against yours, and instead of facing you with furrowed brows and an offended expression.

The two friends speak simultaneously, one with indignation and the other with confusion “Why not?”

The pointedness of the question makes it seem as though your words were wrong, a misstep in a direction that you have to apologize for. Regardless of whether or not you know why. “Uh, ‘cause no one likes us like that?”

Mai scoffs, crossing her arms and tilting her nose upwards, “Speak for yourself.”

“Sorry, no one likes me like that. So I don’t have to worry.” You say with a smile punctuating the statement with a scoop of rice into your mouth. It wasn’t a statement meant to be considered deeply, it was a simple fact. There were hardly any thirteen-year-olds looking your way, and even if there were, it wasn’t like your attention was focused on them either. All the boys in school were either too annoying or too stupid.

Except for Hajime. He was the only tolerable one. Oikawa fell into the “too annoying” category. But you still loved him—sometimes.

Yua and Mai share a glance, a fleeting look before they look back at you, “You’re joking, right?”

You look up from your food to meet their furrowed stares, “What?”

They share another glance, Mai answering Yua’s silent question with a shrug of her shoulders. You’re completely left in the dark. “Wait, what’s going on?”

“Okay, so what if,” Yua begins, the familiar teasing lilt that you’ve widely associated with the blonde returning, stressing on the ‘if’, “someone did like you. What would you do?”

They both look at you with waggling eyebrows, like they’ve cornered you into the exact hypothetical they want you to be in. While this isn’t necessarily an unfamiliar place to be in, it is a weird one, considering you and boys have never really been the topic of conversation unless Iwa and Oikawa were somehow brought up. But your friendship with them was well known and not exactly hidden at all. It wasn’t sensational, nor was it the topic of gossip. Neither was the fact that you aren’t exactly the kind of girl the boys of Kitagawa First were looking at if they were even looking at girls.

“But no one likes me like that.”

“Answer the question.”

You gesture in exasperation, “I don’t know! I’m not really into anyone like that, so I guess I’d say no?”

The two girls pause again, sharing another look. 

“Okay, can you two stop that?”

Mai speaks up this time, almost disbelieving, “You really don’t like anyone?”

“Am I supposed to?”

Yua sings, “Not even Iwaizumiii?”

The chopsticks that you held deftly in your hands go limp and a straight shot of shock runs down your spine. Time stands still in this cramped cafeteria and it feels like your head has been dunked into a bucket of cold water, halting the train of thought and highlighting every possible exit in this building.

The red lights of panic have turned on in your brain and they’re screaming at you to run.

“I— I don’t— what are you guys talking about?” 

Your two best friends, who now resemble Satan’s assistants more than anything remotely positive to you, share their third unspoken glance, and you’re about to lose it. 

“So,” Yua starts again, tearing her sly eyes from Mai’s excited ones, “You do like him?”

Code red. Abandon ship. Abort. R-U-N.

“No! He— I— We’re just friends!” 

“Oh my god!” Mai slams her hands on the surface of the table, her brown eyes boring into your widened ones as she leans over to invade your personal space and poke your chest.

“You like him!”

The brain that is usually so quick with an excuse, trained to be sharp-witted and smart from years of intense teasing from Tooru and Hajime, suddenly feels like mush in your head. Ooey, gooey mush that can’t come up with anything but stuttering, “N-No” at the idea of having some romantic inclination towards Hajime. The best friend you hang out with every weekend; The boy that always walks you home and always makes sure your comments are heard; The spiky-haired idiot with a sea of emerald in his eyes that you always seem to drown in.

But, that’s not— that doesn’t mean— No. 

You don’t like Hajime like that. He’s just a really really good friend. That you enjoy spending time with. That makes you feel comfortable with just a single look. The friend that you always want around, regardless of the kind of day. Yeah. That’s it. 

Hajime is just that kind of person.

Yua gives an unconvinced hum and taps her bright pink nails on the table surface, “When you think about another girl liking him, do you get jealous?” 

Mai backs up from your face to give a wide smile at the blonde, pointing at her wickedly and almost shouting, “Ooh! Good question!”

“Thanks, I read it in my sister’s magazine.”

Mai turns back, almost touching your nose with hers, “Well? Do you?”

The “no” is on the tip of your tongue as an instinctual defense against this personal interrogation, but it doesn’t come out. Partly because of the mush of your brain but also because you know any denial of that question just simply isn’t true; Because when Saran followed Hajime around all day in grade six, you distinctly remember being in a foul mood for a while.

A mood that could only be fixed when Hajime indirectly affirmed that he did not like her.

Oh god.

You like Hajime.

You like his stupid face and his stupid laugh and the stupid way he teases you and the stupid way he makes you feel.

Your friends laugh in your face for a solid minute while you hang your head in your hands, certain that your life was completely over with the new revelation. Yua is the instigator, teasing you relentlessly over the silent confession while Mai asserts that this is the beginning of a fairytale. 

She says it with such conviction that you’re almost inclined to believe her until reason kicks in, and the shamefulness of the situation kicks in. You push it down, fine with keeping the acknowledgment exactly where it is, right under your thumb. That is until Oikawa finds out about it and then suddenly, it’s no longer in your control.

You’re fourteen when he corners you after school. He’s walking you home, taking Hajime’s usual role when said boy and subject of your plight had to stay home with the sick. 

You don’t think he’s going to bring it up, hardly aware he even knows about it, but he does making you choke on your spit and trip over a crack in the sidewalk. He clutches his stomach in a guffaw. 

“Did you really think you could hide it from me?” Tooru teases, his finger poking at your heated cheek that you quickly swat away. 

“I’m not hiding anything, Tooru,” you mutter, keeping your head turned downwards. If Oikawa even sees a smidgen of embarrassment he would never let you live it down.

“Oh, please. You’re so easy to read, especially when Iwa-chan is around. You’re all, ‘oh Iwa, you’re so smart and funny. I want to be with you forever. Mwah, mwah, mwah!’” His hands are interwoven beside his head and he attempts a poor, high-pitched imitation of your voice. Again, Oikawa Tooru belongs in the “too annoying” category that most eighth-grade boys find themselves in. 

You lift your left leg, thrusting your shin outward to kick the taller boy in his behind, a move all too familiar. Really, Oikawa should have seen it coming, having had it done to him so often by Iwaizumi. He’s too swept up in the antics of teasing, though, that it surprises him and the pain in his bottom is sharp. His hands cover the stinging area. 

“Ow, (Y/N)!”

“That’s what you get for being stupid.”

“See! You even act him like him!”

You raise your fist upward and he raises his hands in defense, cowering at the threat of more pain, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He lowers his hands, one eye closed and the other peeking from behind his lowering fingers, “Gosh, so violent. I’m only trying to help!”

“I don’t need help.” You grumble.

You continue your trek onward, desperate to put as much distance between yourself and this nightmare of a conversation. But it’s not that simple. There are now three people that have realized the truth of your crush in less than a year— all of which are your closest friends. It’s only a matter of time before the friend above them all realizes it too. 

Worst off, only a matter of time before someone tells him. 

You turn towards Tooru with a speed that has him flinching and thrusting his hands upward for protection again. A yelp echoes around the empty street and was it not for the intensity behind your desperation, you probably would have laughed.

“Tooru.” There’s a rasp in your voice, one that you aren’t exaggerating. It makes Oikawa uncomfortable hearing such a serious depth to your previously annoyed cadence. In his continuously growing height, he stares down at you, fear crumpling his face.

“Don’t say my name like that—”

“You cannot tell Hajime.”

He straightens his posture out, hand rubbing the back of his neck. A brow is raised quizzically, “Isn’t that the whole point of having a crush? So that you can eventually tell that person about it?”

It’s not like you expect him to understand, hell, you don’t even understand it yourself. All you know is that Hajime cannot know about it; There are too many factors, too many problems that can happen. Besides, you’re sure it’s just a tiny crush, one that will go away after a couple of months. 

And even if it didn’t, you still wouldn’t be able to tell him. Because you’ve been best friends for four years now, and if there was anything remotely remarkable about you, you’re sure something would’ve happened already. Because Hajime is strong, decisive, and steady. If he wants something, he goes for it; And if he wanted you, in any capacity like the way you want him, he would’ve said something. 

But he doesn’t because you’re his best friend. Nothing is outstanding about you, nothing that would make you more than just the girl he’s friends with. Nothing that would make you any different from “just one of the guys”.

He would never see you as anything but. 

So, it’s just easier to have Hajime as a friend than to risk it all for a likely rejection. You could swallow the feelings, bury them deep inside of you for the rest of time. It would be significantly easier than never talking to him again because you couldn’t be a big girl and not make things awkward. 

You try to tell Oikawa as much, “It’s— I just— It would be easier if he didn’t know. It’ll go away soon.”

The brunet tilts his head to the side, kind of like a pouty puppy. When he’s not being a teasing butthead, he’s rather gentle with you, considerate of your emotions, and above all, eager to understand.

“Do you want it to go away?”

“Like I said, it would just be easier.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

A quiet settles between the two of you and it feels like it’s oceans wide. You, stranded out at sea in the terrorizing waves of emotions, and he, the lighthouse built on the rocks. Tall and fixed, beckoning you towards his stable ground of reason. It’s a brief reminder that when Oikawa tries, he’s not that annoying. He’s rather kind and empathetic.

“Do you want Hajime to like you?”

The deep cocoa eyes dig into you and the waves crash even more ferociously around you.

Cotton dries up your mouth, and the ache that always pains your heart whenever you think about Hajime returns in full force, “He never will.”

Oikawa huffs out a breath, back becoming imperceptibly straighter while he crosses his arms. It’s hard to imagine him as anything but that sweaty boy you met on the playground, but he stands before you a giant, body filling out from all the volleyball practice and the baby features of his face evening out to become the handsome boy girls were starting to see him as. He radiates his kind of steadiness, one different from Hajime, but equally as comforting.

It’s admirable— he’s admirable— when it's not pinned against you.

“And how do you know?”

“Tooru,” you sigh, exhaustion suddenly creeping up your shoulders along with the overwhelming urge to cry, “Please.”

You don’t feel like explaining all the intricacies of your perceived inadequacy and thank the gods above he’s a good enough friend to know when to stop prying, “Fine, fine. I’ll leave it alone. For now.”

You stare up at him, searching his face for any notion of deceit or subterfuge, “You promise you won’t say anything?”

“Yeah, yeah,” He waves his hand in dismissal, rolling his eyes in that way that portrays annoyance but the love is there. He understands you, at least. 

You hold out your pinky for him, “Pinky promise?”

“What are we, ten?” 

You hold your finger out further, almost waving it in his face. It’s the staple of trust in your friendship, instituted early on between you and him, and only you and him. He can’t back out now.

He takes it with a sigh of his own, huffing out his breath, and twisting his long, slender finger with yours. You shake his hand in affirmation, letting go only when you feel comfortable in the validity of his promise and resuming your walk home. 

He throws an arm over your shoulder, squeezing you tightly to his body, “Eventually you’re going to have to say something.”

“I know.” 

“I hope you know I’m never letting you live this down.”

“It’s like you want me to hit you again.”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe in the future, when you’re more comfortable with the fact that it’s your best friend of all people that gives you butterflies in your stomach, you’ll do something about it. But not right now, not when he spends all his time in volleyball and especially not when you were barely confident in yourself. Or maybe, it’ll go away, and you can look back on this as a funny memory rather than anything serious.

You’re fifteen when you finally accept the circumstances and become resigned to it. Finally understanding that your crush is more than just a crush, but knowing full well that that’s all you can let it be.

Hajime sits on the floor, surrounded by your regular friends plus a couple of others at Oikawa’s birthday party when he says it. You’re not supposed to hear it from your place in the kitchen, but you do and it’s a dagger to both heart and confidence. He’s confirmed everything you knew and quelled any potential rebuttal of thoughts Mai or Tooru have planted in your head. 

You were stupid to think Hajime could ever see you as anything more than the girl he’s just friends with.

Your appetite quickly dissipates and you have to work extra hard to make sure pure despair doesn’t show on your face. Especially when Oikawa hears it too and he makes that face that looks like he wants to give you a hug, which makes everything ten times harder.

A kid named Matsukawa is the one that asks. You don’t blame him. He’s only fifteen, after all, asking what normal fifteen-year-olds normally talk about.

“What about (Y/N)? Would you date her?”

Hajime scoffs, a laugh on his lips as though it were the weirdest question he’s ever heard.

“She’s my best friend. That would be like dating my sister. I don’t like her like that.”

You’re fifteen and you’ve become resigned to it all, because it’s better to have Hajime as a friend, than to never have him at all. Because you would never have him; At least not in the way you want. 

You don’t blame him for that either.

You cry about it later on, after the party is over and after you deny Hajime’s insistence to walk you home. He has a weird look on his face when you tell him you’ll be fine, your house is only a few blocks away. He wants to fight you on it, can see the argument forming it in that storm of green. It’s a shitty feeling to deny him so blatantly, but you really can’t stomach being around him at the moment. Not when your heart pangs longingly for him and your insecurities increase tenfold at the confirmation of your inadequacy.

Not when all of this is happening at once, showing as clear as day on your face, and he sees it. Worst of all, not when he wants to solve it, hardly understanding that he’s the cause of it.

His eyes narrow, staring intently as he studies your features. The scrutiny is uncomfortable and if he does stares a second longer the tears will fall.

“Did… something happen during the party?” Hajime asks hesitantly. There’s a whirlwind of possibilities crossing his mind, all indicating rather unsavory and horrifying ideas that have his worry bubbling beneath his skin. You’re barely meeting his gaze, hands clasped tightly before you and body way too stiff. The complete opposite of your normal demeanor, especially around him.

Usually so open, so vibrant. And here you stand before him, the dark of night surrounding you and the fluorescent glow of the streetlamps casting a ghoulish light on your face, exaggerating your dejected features more prominently. 

He’s heard of worst-case scenarios when girls and boys get together, something mentioned in passing when his mother was on the phone with his aunt. He never really thought much about it, considering he would never do something like that and he doesn’t hang around many girls, to begin with for something like that to be an immediate concern.. 

In this stark contrast of a moment, however, he’s briefly reminded of the fact that he so often tends to forget. You’re a girl; A living, breathing, pretty girl. Everyone likes you, would be fools not to. And while he would never allow himself or anyone else to force themselves upon you, you weren’t with him for the whole party. Disappearing for a brief moment after he saw you enter the kitchen. The idea of something like that— something that horrible— happening to you under his nose has all of his instincts on fight mode, forget the flight. A shattering of the innocence he was so previously impervious to. 

The implication is clear in his voice accompanied with the fear-stricken features, so you can hardly miss what he means. 

“Did— Did anyone…?” His voice cracks and he hurriedly tries to clear it up with the clearing of his throat, but you heard it. It happens often when he’s wrestling with an onslaught of emotions, trying his hardest to remain calm and clear-headed and focused that sometimes his voice just gives out. Also, puberty.

The act doesn’t matter though, not when he’s silently amping himself up to fight someone if you were touched inappropriately. He would win; He’s been in a couple of fights before, usually off school property, he doesn’t mind getting into another one. Not if it was for you. And he would win; Would make sure of that.

The tussle for calm is transparent on his face. Lips struggling to stay in a closed, neutral line rather than the frown he has to hold back. His fists clench, blunt nails digging into the skin of his palms to alleviate the growing anger, only to prove futile. He so badly wants to grab you by the shoulders, shake you furiously, ask what the hell is going on because you’re never like this—

He doesn’t. He knows better. Even if the suspense is driving him up the wall and the tension that encapsulates the empty street is thick and choking him. 

Finally, you say something.

“No, Haji,” you say softly, “No one did anything to me.”

It’s what Iwaizumi wants to hear; Should be ecstatic to know that you are physically unharmed, free from the taint that comes with a foreign touch, the one he’s intent to protect you from. Your voice is too quiet though, and the smile you give him is too small for him to feel any modicum of ease. You're lying. Someone did something.

“I’m fine, really!” You try again, amping up the energy to convince him. It falls flat. 

“(Y/N).” That spiky head of hair tips forward, pushing himself in your averting line of sight, refusing to let you hide from him. He’s taller now, finally taller than you. While his hair is still that fluff of mess on his head, his eyes are still that piercing green that can always read you like a book and his favorite season is still summer, only this time he no longer enjoys going to the park, but instead the beach. 

He’s the same Hajime you fell in love with and the remainder is enough to cause a lump swell in your throat.

“What are you hidi—”

“Iwa-chan!”

The familiar melodious voice rings out in the empty street, its owner sauntering his way over to your departing figures. There’s that recognizable air of flowering confidence rolling off of him like a humid heat and the sly shining of his pearly whites that serves as a buffer from the thick air of tension between you and Haj— Iwaizumi.

Just, Iwaizumi. No added affection.

There's magic in Oikawa’s stroll, you’re sure of it. It looks perfectly coincidental, like he just so happened to stumble upon a tense scene, instead of the very much needed and purposeful intervention for his emotionally crushed best friend and worry-fueled other best friend.

And they call him the idiot.

He sighs that flowery breath of his, throwing his arm around Iwa’s shoulders and watching the desperation that filled your gaze wash away with relief at his intrusion. Iwa’s confusion only seems to increase, but truthfully, Oikawa isn’t too concerned with his hard-headed friend. He’s really only keen on getting you out of there— out to safety and away from the source of your heartbreak.

“Iwa-chan, you have to go set up the movie player. I have no idea how to work it.”

“I’ve shown you how to do it four times, Tooru.”

“But it’s so much easier when you do it. Don’t worry, I’ll walk our precious flower home while you set up for our sleepover.”

Iwaizumi hesitates, his eyes bouncing from the self-assured smile of Oikawa to your downturned gaze. There’s something wrong, he knows it. But it’s obviously a secret he isn’t allowed into. 

He won’t pry, he’s never been one to beg for secrets— never been one to want secrets told to him at all. However, there’s a particular sting at knowing that it’s you who’s hiding something and refusing to tell him. That there’s something Oikawa is aware about, that he isn’t allowed to know.

It’s not his business, he surmises. You’re not his business. He swallows that bitter pill, accepting Oikawa’s offer with a brief nod. He’s not happy, that’s plain to see, but he knows better than to insert himself where he’s not wanted.

Calm, steady, comfortable. Iwaizumi will fight for what he wants, but not when it hurts you in the process.

He bids you a brief goodbye, voice tight and rigid, clearly displaying his dissatisfaction but accepting it nonetheless. He doesn’t even look back at you. It’s what you want, you suppose. Some distance from him for your benefit, so you can at least try and forget about how you feel; Save yourself from the devastation of falling even deeper in love with him. 

He enters Oikawa’s house. It’s a place you’ve been many times, slept over on many occasions yet, when Iwaizumi crosses the threshold with a strain on his shoulders and a grimace on his face, you can’t help but wonder if he’s finally going someplace that you can’t follow. If you’ve spent all these years pining over him, wondering if you would ever be enough for him, only to push him away into an area of no return. 

Oikawa doesn’t give you a moment to think long about it before he’s ushering you away from the crime scene where your uncontrollable and childish feelings have brutally injured a fraying friendship and guiding you home. He talks the entire time, about everything and nothing, and you’re rather grateful for the background noise. To finally think about something other than your broken heart and Iwaizumi’s betrayed face. 

He leaves you at your door with the promise that things will get better, that it won’t hurt so much, and that he’s always there for you. He places a sweet kiss on the crown of your head, turning his back with a final wave and leaving you alone with your thoughts. The promise of meeting one another again is unspoken, instinctive. You know deep down, though, it’ll be different from here on out. You’ll have to be more careful, more guarded with the things you say and do.

You wonder if Iwaizumi has as much trouble sleeping that night as you do. 

(He does. He doesn’t sleep at all.)

Things do get better, which is a blessed curse. The tension eventually resolves after a couple of weeks of tiptoeing around each other. Normality returns in full-swing and you’re able to talk to Hajime without the overwhelming feeling of guilt and need to explain everything; If he holds any issues about what happened that night, he doesn’t mention it, following your lead and letting the friendship return to normal.

The problem lies in the fact that Oikawa was ultimately right, and he makes a point to show that he’s right. That things did get better, and the fragmentation of your splintering relationship with the boy you love eventually gets patched up.

Life moves on.

The feelings don’t go away, but you get better at managing them. It’s significantly easier to push the pining down and not think too much about any passing romantic comments in school that pair you and Iwaizumi together; Nor do you think twice about the harmless flirting that occasionally comes your way. You dish it back, continuing the joking nature of the friendship and after a while, it doesn’t hurt so bad. You exit the stages of puberty and things don’t feel as hectic as they once were. 

The turbulent waves of emotions finally die down to a steady roll, and for a while, you’re able to float. It’s safe, peaceful, exactly how you want it to stay. 

That is until you’re seventeen, almost eighteen, and Iwaizumi asks you to be his fake girlfriend. The waves pick up steam and you’re drowning again. You have the girls of Aoba Johsai to thank for that. 

This time though, you’re determined to protect yourself. The anxiety of it all starts to settle in between your shoulders and instead of falling victim to the whims of an unsuspecting Iwaizumi once again, the urge to protect yourself and your pathetic emotions takes precedence. You will not be reduced down to the unconfident, love-sick girl you once were; You’ve worked too hard to do that. You matter more than Iwaizumi’s stupid girl problem.

It’s why you don’t think twice when you blurt it out after agreeing to help.

“We need a contract.”

“A contract?” Hajime parrots back, broad arms crossed over his equally broad chest and the intense training you’ve instilled in yourself to not stare at him meets its limitations, lest you stoop down to the level of the girls he’s so desperate to evade. He’s grown so much, physically and personally, that it's hard to not look at him. You force yourself to glance around the crowded cafe, look anywhere but his veiny arms, and instead replace your view with the small restaurant you two frequent every Monday— the only day he has off from volleyball practice. 

It’s a small establishment that sells teas and noodles, a pleasant find to make one day when the both of you were hungry pre-teens and full of time on your hands. It’s usually rather empty during this time as it’s just out of the line of sight to avoid the after-school rush of students, but today the line extends outside of the door, all attendees eager to have a taste of miso ramen and pushing against bodies to do so. The people behind you are respectful enough to give you as much space as one can afford in the cramped venue, but you end up still having to press yourself into the stiff body of the boy— no, man— beside you. 

You have the decency to look at least a little uncomfortable in the tightness of the situation, but Hajime shows nothing. Whether it’s because he doesn’t even care that your chest is bracing against his arm or he’s too distracted with the complicatedness of his “girl” problem, his face betrays no embarrassment at the closeness. No frustration, no discomfort, not even annoyance. He merely exists, dealing with your body pressed against his as if this were a regular occurrence and not an awkward preemption to the farce that you’ve stupidly agreed to. This would surely haunt you for the rest of your years. 

This man of steel, this monolith of lean, corded muscle, was going to be your “boyfriend” for the next couple of weeks. You would be lucky if this arrangement even lasted for that long considering the confession of pure unadulterated adoration is crawling up the canal of your throat and tearing the fabric of your skin, sticking a middle finger at the rational parts of your brain trying desperately to hold it back. 

Your fate is signed, knowing full and well that in your inability to deny Hajime— especially when he’s so desperate, which is a rarity in and of itself— you’ve willingly agreed to have your dignity and confidence stripped from your person and your feelings thrown in a loop for the sake of his sanity. 

It’s annoying. Every potential hypothetical plays itself in high definition across the theatre of your mind and each one ends with you being brutally rejected once again. There’s no way you could handle something like that again, no matter how much you’ve matured. 

This is a bad idea, and you need to tell him that.

But then the sight of pleading jades enters your vision and you distinctly remember the permanent frown that etched itself on Hajime’s face these past three months. Remember how the feelings of deep discomfort forced him to confide in you on a late-night phone call when sleep evaded him and he detailed the dread he felt at the prospect of going to school the next school day.

If your mouth even opened a fraction to breathe, you’re sure the “I’m in love with you and have been since sixth grade” will come tumbling out, but even the fear of that happening doesn’t overpower the overwhelming desire to help the man you’re madly in love with.

There’s a limit to what would be forsaken in the name of Iwaizumi Hajime’s happiness, but your sanity isn’t it.

The situation worsens when the subtle shifting of the patrons behind you throws you off balance and forces you impossibly closer to him. The shuffling of feet knocks into your own, tilting you off balance despite your leaning against Hajime. A rebuttal is on the tip of your tongue ready to be released in rapid-fire when Hajime beats you to it. 

He quickly wraps his arm around your waist, allowing your unsteady feet to find balance against his lean body of stone, clutching you tightly to his side as if the accidental push against you were a personal offense. 

The protective nature that so often lies dormant in his personality rears its head forward and you swear your heart stops beating altogether. 

“Easy,” he mutters, a layer of strict dismay interweaving in his words as he casts a pointed side glare at the two boys standing behind you. You hardly hear it, much too occupied with trying not to drown in the sudden flooding of his cologne in your nostrils. 

Musk and spice. His usual scent, but even more addicting when it’s this close. 

This is a bad idea. This is a horrible, bad, awful idea. Bad, bad, bad idea.

You have to end this. You won’t survive this. 

“C-contract.” You, somehow, manage to spit out, shaking your head free from the waft of his scent and the strength of his arm across your back. 

Okay, not necessarily ending this but protecting yourself. Yeah, that’s it. Because there is no way you want him to keep acting like this, no. You’re just doing this to help and totally not to selfishly indulge in the delight of being his, even if it is fake. 

He tears his narrowed eyes away from the boys behind you to glance at you, the remnants of disapproval flickering in the sea of green that you swear only evens out when he looks at you, “Right. What’s in this contract?”

“The, uh, basics,” you begin, voice slowly finding its footing after the intense whiplash you just experienced. You're surprised you can even form words that aren’t resembling proclamations of desire, “What we can and can’t do, how long this is for, and so on.”

“That’s a good idea,” He breathes out. The line shifts forward, and the cashier finally enters the field of view. With a quick recoil, as though his skin were burned by the action, he removes his hand from around your waist. The warmth of his arm rescinds with it, and that thirteen-year-old girl that has fantasized for years about this, whines in desperation. You quickly tell her to shut up.

He clears his throat, awkwardness filling the cramped and stale air, “Uh, sorry. About that.”

He avoids your eyes and you quickly look around too, “It’s fine.”

A silence ensues. It’s not uncomfortable, per se, but it’s a far cry from the brief pauses in conversation that usually occur between the two of you. The comfortable silences that occur naturally between friends of five years. You wonder if you should address it, address the fact that if you two were to pull this off— and pull it off well— there were going to be more moments when he was going to have to touch you like that. 

He was going to have to hold your hand and give you frequent hugs and actually act like he was in love with you. Act. 

You swallow at the prospect. Not like that would be hard for you to do, you think rather pitifully.

There are two more couples in front of you when you say, “I’d like to institute the first provision.”

Hajime quirks an eyebrow, his lips lifting upward, an obvious sign of gratefulness at being able to brush over that weird moment of physicality. He doesn’t know why it was instinctual, or why he even thought that placing his hand that low around your waist would be a good idea. But, he did it; And it’s quite the revelation when he realizes he didn’t mind it. 

At all.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” He glances at you to his right, the teasing smile gracing your features and the recognizable glint of mischief in your eyes. 

“You have to buy all of the food we eat together.”

He scoffs out a laugh, shaking his head, “I already buy all of our food.”

“I always pay you back!”

“You owe me at least three-thousand yen.”

“Okay, an addendum to provision one.”

“Shoot.”

“You buy all of our food and forgive my debts.”

He laughs louder tilting his head back as his teeth peek from his pink lips. It’s the bark of laughter that swells your beating heart with confidence. You may not have him romantically, but there’s no denial of the fact that he likes you in his life, especially when you can make him laugh like that, “I’m starting to think this contract is only beneficial to you.”

It’s your turn to raise an eyebrow at him, the body still tucked tightly beside his as feet shuffle forward in the line, “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m doing you a huge favor.”

“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten.” A silence befalls again, this one not as tense as before. A small smile plays on his lips and there’s a sincerity behind his gaze that reminds you of how appreciative he really is for this. Hajime isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to repay you for stepping in and helping him in the most intimate of ways that you most likely would rather not do. There wasn’t ever an expressed interest in the dating scene from you, always denying the occasional confession that came your way and never thinking twice about the romantic holidays that come and go.

He wonders why because if you tried, you’d have every guy within a ten-foot radius begging for your attention. Surely one of them would be worthy of your love. (He doesn’t agree though. There’s no one in this world who could ever be worthy of you. Not when you smile so brightly and tease so enticingly. No one would ever deserve that part of you. No one that he would ever approve of, anyway..) He’s not dumb in realizing that your willingness to engage in a romantic relationship with him— even if it is a fake one— is a large deviation from the norm. It’s not something to be taken lightly.

So, he owes you. Big time. Whatever you want, whatever you put in this contract, he’ll do. He’ll be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. 

(Fake boyfriend, he has to remind himself. He swallows down the disappointment.)

“Thank you.” he breaks the silence, rubbing the back of his heating neck, “Again. For doing this for me. I don’t—”

“Ah, ah!” You interrupt, holding your hand upwards and wagging a finger at him, “I haven’t done anything yet, so don’t start thanking me so soon. Who knows? I might sabotage this whole thing, be the worst girlfriend you could ever imagine.” 

 The couple in front of you finishes their order, stepping to the side to allow the both of you forward. You step up, dragging him with you but you don’t miss the low throaty chuckle he emits when he says, “You like me too much to do that.”

He pats the top of your head, smoothing the fly-away hairs with a wink and a sly smile, and then, like nothing even happened, he steps up to the counter, taking the initiative and placing your usual orders. There’s both too much nuance and not enough to his statement to determine if you should be scared at his words. Does he know? Did Oikawa tell him?

You don’t even notice when he puts both food items on one bill. 

It’s then that you remember, with little humor like someone who’s forgotten a necessary step to an important project, that while you’ve done a lot of growing and building these past four years to fortify the walls of your heart, so has he. He’s stronger, more confident, more sturdy. 

Fourteen-year-old you built the walls for a fourteen-year-old Iwaizume Hajime. She didn’t even think to consider the damage eighteen-year-old Ace and Vice-Captain of the Seijoh Volleyball Team could do. Not with a spike those strong arms could make and a sea of green that you still drown in.

The first large crack in the barriers has been made. 

He turns to face you upon finishing the order, stepping to the side and bracing his body against the far wall of the restaurant to allow the next customers to the counter. That damn sly smile is still on his face, and it’s then you realize that he has to know. He has to know what he’s doing, or at least know that it’s doing something to you.

“So,” he tucks his hands into the pockets of his uniform pants, biceps bulging at the action “tell me about this contract, sweet girlfriend of mine.”

end notes: god damn glad that’s over. what did yall think?? too much? not enough? lemme know! i love reading all of your tags and comments, it fills me with such happiness :))))

tag list: @bruh-kill-me @owlnymph @airybnb @yukiilu-personal @cathwritestragediesnotsins @berna-dette​

[charmspoint]

Dr Stone review

Finally done catching up with dr stone! I don't feel like I have much to say that I haven't said when I watched the anime or during the manga reading but I really enjoyed it! I don't have much of a science brain so most things just flew straight over my head but I can only imagine now fun this manga is for people who are interested in this stuff.

I heard before i started reading that the characters don't get much development and that we don't know most of their backstories and I thought that would grate on me eventually because i'm a very character oriented person. And that is true, there aren't really characters arcs I can point to and very few characters receive any tangible development that isnt enemy turned friends (Chrome and Suika are exceptions that first come to mind). But that didn't make the story dull at all! Dr Stone is very plot and progress focused and it's more of a story about the humanity than Senku's story. And i ended up really liking that! I really liked the growth of the community from one dude in the jungle to multiple cities working together, I really liked how much the power of humanity as a whole was emphasized. In dr stone its clear everyone has something to offer. Senku is the mover and shaker because he possesses the most how-to knowledge but without different people who have different talents he wouldn't be able to get anywhere no matter how smart he was. Idk it's just rare to find a manga so community focused instead of putting everything on a handful of protags so it's just !!! it's good I like it. It kinda lets you immerse yourself more like, I'm not as smart as Senku nor am I strong as Tsukasa but the more i read the more i've found myself in other characters and i could think of ways i too would be useful in a stone world. It's a lot different that the usual 'well im not a fighter so id be totally useless in this shonen setting'. It's fresh! I like it! And even tho the characters don't grow much they are all fun and memorable people so you'll hardly get bored of them in the first place and there is so many of them and they all work so hard it's doubtful you'll ever get stuck for long with one you don't like.

Boichi's art has been a topic for me and my brother for quite a bit now, since it's...like that when it comes to girls, but also i weirdly?? Didn't mind it?? Like yeah if you look at some shots for too long your eyes hurt but somehow despite the art being horny the writing is so unhorny it kind of balances out? Like i told this to my brother before but there's no 'seeing a girl naked when she doesn't want you to' scene or anything similar to that despite the art looking Like That. Like Kohaku is obviously the worst offender with her weird battle poses but they are just??? in midst battle??? in midst running or looking for something or otherwise being active and affecting the plot. Like the art is horny but it never feels like the purpose of the scene is to be horny, the purpose is never 'lets all ogle Kohaku now'. I said it to my brother and I'll stand by it: I think this is just how Boichi thinks girls are drawn.

But other than that I do enjoy the way Dr Stone handles romance when it does emerge it has such a good take on it. Like Senku isn't interested in romance At All and it's such a nice character trait to see for a protagonist, it's showing kids you can be a full and interesting person even when you don't want to get involved with anyone. And the romantic pairings we do have (Yuzuriha and Taiju, Chrome and Ruri) are so goddamn good and sweet and supportive and silly, i feel like the story is really telling the boys that usually read shonen manga 'girls like it when you're nice to them' which considering some of them might be attracted to dr stone cuz kohakus butt on cover is a very good thing.

Also Senku is just such a good protagonist I honestly love him. Usually in Shonen the protagonist is the character i care about the least but Senku is just!! so good!! Like at first glance he comes off as asshole but I honestly don't think he ever really brags and is always so open to learning and teaching others and despite being verbally unkind he shows so much with his actions. He is a perfect example of someone who shows his love and appreciation for others by making their lives nicer and easier. He is confident in himself and he never gives up and keeps trucking along but is also ready to be humble and admit when he can't do something or when someone can do it better than him. And he does it all while keeping the cool cocky persona so I think he's also a good remodel for young boys to emulate.

Anyway loved it 8/10, my favorite arcs are Senku's dads and Suikas i cried

[sineala]

Is Tony E. Stark bi in the comics?

Sadly, anon, the answer to this is no. I wish it were true. But he is not canonically bi. By this I mean that he has never canonically dated or otherwise been involved with men, nor has he made any explicit statement -- other than for one very specific purpose, that I will tell you about in a second -- that he is attracted to men in any way. Just women.

There are, however, a lot of hints that at various points in Tony’s history there have definitely been people involved with the Iron Man comics who would have liked him to be bi. But none of them have ever made it to the realm of canon confirmation.

I can tell you about a lot of the evidence that people like to present in this vein. Mostly what you will see these days is this panel from Tony Stark Iron Man #4:

The context of this panel is as follows: for Plot Reasons, Tony needs to come up with a way to crash a certain dating website. So he makes a profile, and a lot of people immediately message him at once, and he achieves his objective: the site goes down. His profile must have listed him as interested in men and women, because we see men messaging him as well. After the site goes down, he apologizes to all the men and women who messaged him, because he’s actually not single -- he’s dating Jan.

So, I mean, it was nice of Marvel to have men interested in Tony -- but it’s not explicitly clear that the interest is reciprocal. Tony made the profile to crash the website, and he presumably set himself as interested in everyone in order to crash the site faster. That’s not exactly a canonical statement of bisexuality. At most, that’s posing as bisexual to crash a site. That doesn’t say anything about who Tony actually likes.

There is also Superior Tony’s evil bisexual orgy, in Superior Iron Man #8:

There are a lot of people in this room and at least one of them is a man. However, we only see this one panel, the aftermath. We don’t actually know how many of these people Tony slept with. So that’s not conclusive either. (Not to mention that it’s kind of a bad look if he’s only ever with men when he’s, well, evil. As I’m sure we all know.)

There’s also this panel from IM v1 #284, in which Tony has faked his own death and the news is reporting rumors that he was HIV-positive:

This comic is from 1992. For anyone reading this who does not personally remember the year 1992, the extremely heavy implication here is that Tony has died of complications from HIV/AIDS which he would have acquired from sleeping with men. But this really isn’t Tony coming out either. This is just people making assumptions. And, sure, it’s interesting that they are making these assumptions, but it’s not confirmation of bisexuality.

The only other instance I can think of, of someone assuming Tony is gay/bi, is this exchange from Eternals v3 #2. Tony has just come out to the public as Iron Man; one character is asking another character what they thought of Tony coming out, and the person being asked assumes that it was a different kind of coming out. (And also they think it can’t possibly be true, FWIW.)

And, I mean, if you’re looking for subtext, there is definitely a lot there, but none of that is actual text. I personally think it’s definitely very... telling... that in flashbacks of Tony’s childhood, we often see him interacting with his father and being reprimanded for things like being a sissy and weak. He’s basically sent to boarding school to toughen him up. There are also several pages from Legacy of Doom, in which (adult) Tony encounters a demon version of Howard in hell (comics are really something), and Howard spends the entire meeting insulting Tony in ways that specifically malign his masculinity. Basically, almost all of the insults Howard canonically levels against him are from a realm of insults that are often applied to men who are attracted to men. Now, I mean, it’s certainly interesting to speculate that Howard might have been worried that Tony would grow up gay, but... no one ever actually says that out loud.

Tony has been known to comment that other men are handsome -- Doom in Bendis’ run immediately comes to mind -- but, I mean, that’s not proof that he’s actually attracted to them.

There’s also the relationship between Tony and his old friend Tiberius Stone. They were never canonically in a romantic relationship. There’s a photo of a gutter note on a piece of the original inked artwork in which someone has written a thought bubble suggesting that Tony and Ty slept together once. That did not make it to the printed page. I also spoke to someone else in fandom who talked with the artist for that arc, and apparently she confirmed to them that she’d wanted Tony/Ty to be canon. But they... didn’t actually make it to canon. Tony & Ty’s relationship is very intense and it would sure make an awful lot of sense, but it’s not canonical.

(I have a couple posts here and here where I’ve talked about most of this before, also gathering up the various pieces of evidence that people have used when making a case for Steve being bi. There’s... not much there either.)

In summary: Would it be awesome if Tony were canonically bi? Yes. Do I think Marvel could very, very easily make him canonically bi if they wanted to? Also yes. Is he canonically bi at this time? Nope. Sorry.

[pa-panda-heroes]

im the same anon who sent the pro-hero + league thing and dabi, shiggy, toga 🥺💞💖💖 thank you, lovely.

Enjoy, anoni!! I’m realising my scenarios are aren’t really scenarios, are they?

Strict!Pro-hero!reader being seduced by Dabi, Tomura, and Himiko!

Warning: N/S/FW content. Minors, do NOT interact. Seriously! This is no place for you. (Edit: that means a anyone under 18. That’s the threshold I’ve seen others use, so I’m sticking it’s that.) Note: there are individual warnings for each character so that you know what you’re about to read ^v^b

Dabi:

Warnings- adult content, thigh riding, biting, edging, alcohol mention, swearing

To say that you were known for being cool-headed and strict was a major understatement. You weren’t as popular as All Might, but those who knew you understood you to be a hero who, no matter how any villain taunted or insulted you, was concrete and unbending to their childish games. You went by the book and rarely made exceptions.

And then Dabi entered the picture. Cynical, rough, sardonic as hell, and quite the lawbreaker - and flirt. He’d stir some trouble in the streets, and then dip out when things got sketchy for him. In the midst of doing so, he’d always send some nasty smirk and comment your way. “Some nice legs you got there, doll. They’d look nicer above your head, though,” was his favorite; or perhaps it was your response he vied for so much. Because boy, you wanted to respond. You couldn’t deny the selfish gratification that came of his antics, knowing someone didn’t treat you as a gripey, square of a woman.

But that was the last thought on your mind as you sauntered through an alleyway on your walk home from having harmless fun with your fellow heroes. You hadn’t drank a sip, afraid of trouble spurring and hence your being called in. Your focus was fixated on your phone in your hand as you read the text one of your coworkers sent you.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, babe,” you suddenly hear, and instantly recognize the bastard of a voice. And instantly you feel that familiar throbbing at your core at the sound of it.

You look up from your phone, stone-faced as always, and try to resist the urge to scowl at him. You fail, though. He’s standing not far from you with his hands in his pockets, but it doesn’t look like this encounter was intended. “Don’t call me that,” you warn shakily, only for his smirk to widen and show off his teeth before he closes the gap between you. You elect to swing a fist at him but miss entirely before a blur flashes over your vision and your back hits the hard brick of the alley.

“Why not? We both know you enjoy it,” he snickers, his forearm across the front of your shoulders, his left hand occupied with pinning your wrist to the wall and knee stuck in-between yours. “If you really meant that punch, I wouldn’t have been able to dodge it, right?”

Right.

He even left your other hand free to prove his point.

Your breath is heavy and fluttered as he leans closer. You said nothing, but the fact that your wrist was relaxed in his hold told him everything. You see him smirk again, thereafter his arm leaves your chest so that he could put his thumb under your chin, the rest of his fingers splayed out on your jaw and you gulp. Your eyes fall half-lidded when he leans in close, but he quickly pushes your head back and veers off to the side to suckle at your neck, earning a quiet whine from you. Dabi acknowledges it with an eerie chuckle, to which you nearly respond with suspect before a cry leaves your lips at the sensation of teeth gnashing at your collarbone, the feeling of his chin staples rolling over your skin surprisingly heavenly. He resorts back to suckling and you’re sure he’s leaving at least a few hickies, but you’re too wrapped up in his hands fondling your hips and ass to care. They’re so warm, it’s ecstatic. He’s sweltering hot, unlike the cool wetness settling between your legs.

“Aah, Dabi...!”

You can’t help the whine of your lips or buck of your hips, nor the yelp that results when you unintentionally grind your throbbing core against his thigh. Dabi pulls off of your neck with a pop before he grabs your hips with both hands to pull you closer, encouraging you to ride his thigh. “My leg, ah?” he breathes, his voice more curious than either of you would admit. He leans in towards your ear, hot breath sending a chill down your spine. “Go on, do it,” he demands, his voice a whisper. “Lift that skirt and cum on my thigh, doll.”

You shut your eyes tight and moan at such a filthy command, his husky voice a contributor. Dabi’s too impatient with you to let you move your skirt out of the way as he does it himself, his returned grip on your hips surely to bruise them. You’re able to look down as he guides you, and there’s a clear streak of wetness soaking his pant leg. You shiver at the sight of your arousal, and again when he reaches to move your panties out of the way to let you grind bare against his jeans. You stare at the sight, not having it in you to look away. He must’ve followed your graze, his chest rumbling with a chuckle as you begin to cry out and moan louder. Dabi’s tongue is awfully quick to find and lick at your ear, while his teeth occasionally gnaw at it and pull. You were so pent up, even after a night of fun, it was no surprise your climax was already catching up to you. Your pace gets faster and faster, until that tightened coil-

Doesn’t snap. Dabi retreated his thigh from you and grabs your jaw to force you to look at his simper, earning a pout from you. “Aw, c’mon. Don’t make that face,” he taunts.

“You didn’t really think that’d be it, did you, babe?”

Tomura:

Warnings- adult content, spanking, swearing, orgasm denial

Being an infamously stoic hero had its perks. No one expected you to goof off on talk shows or crack a corny joke in interviews. Everyone liked that you weren’t careless and rambunctious; it just suited you not to be. A downside was being viewed as a “strict, rule-hungry old bag,” though. And you weren’t even old! But because you took being a hero seriously and followed rules, it gave you a public opinion not far off from Endeavor’s.

Getting on the trail of the leader of the League of Villains was a royal pain in the ass, much less staying there. It didn’t help that he seemed to take a special interest in you. There was always a hungry look in his eyes when you faced off, and nearly every time it felt like he’d planned the encounter as if to merely get a glimpse of you.

It wasn’t something you hated. This game of cat and mouse was exhilarating. Constant. Safe. It was a release. The more it happened, the more you thought it was the same way for him.

That theory was confirmed in its entirety when he randomly showed up in your apartment and looked at you as if he’d waited a significant amount of time. On you. You freeze in place after shutting your door, your bag of groceries still in hand as he stares at you from the couch. The silence that falls is thick, and not entirely uncomfortable, but it is unwelcome. You walk over to the kitchen area and set the bag atop the counter, before turning around to see Tomura standing right in front of you, the lack of hands adorning his body confusing you. “Why... are you here?” you ask hesitantly, noting the unconscious clenching of your thighs.

“You wouldn’t make a damn move, so I had to.”

His answer was simple and dry, and you begin to wonder if that meant anything other than what you wanted it to. His intentions are clear when he approaches further, backing you into the counter and caging you with an arm on each side. Tomura just stares at you. It was your turn. That’s how your little game went. And so you jolted forward, latching onto his lips with your own. Your dominance is short-lived, though, as he deepens the kiss when you yelp from his hand smacking against the side of your thigh, his tongue invading your mouth. Tomura’s hands are quick to snake up your shirt and paw at your uncovered breasts, the villain then smirking at the realization that you weren’t wearing a bra while he chuckles at your moan. His fingers pinch your hardening nubs, resulting in your pulling back from his lips and mewling.

His breaths are getting heavy, as are yours. Tomura grabs your arm and spins you around so that your backside is facing him, your ass end poking out at him when he grabs your head and pushes down to bend you over the counter. You glance back at him, but your focus is broken when you feel his hardened cock against your ass. Your whine only encourages him to briskly unbuckle your pants and pull them down, and you half-expect him to grind against you again - but he doesn’t. You begin to push back against him, albeit a hand on the small of your back lunges you forward and you scramble to get a grip on the counter beneath you. Hard to do that on a flat, smooth surface.

“Funny, you’re such a stickler about rules, and yet here you are, trying to make your own,” he jeers, and you swallow thickly. “You can follow a command, can’t you, hero?”

You gulp again and try to writhe in place, only to shriek when a hand lands sharp on your ass cheek as his other hand digs into your back. “Can’t you?” he repeats, and the feeling of your cunt clenching practically resounds throughout your body. You’re soaked, it’s clear. You pant instead of responding, almost sounding like a bitch in heat before another slap sounds against your reddening asscheek and you moan aloud, earning yourself yet another.

“I can!” you nearly scream, white-hot tears prickling the corners of your eyes - either from the pleasure, or the pain, you’re not sure.

“Don’t cum.”

You gasp and glance back at him, lips agape as you felt the pulling down of your panties. All you can see is those dark, red eyes glaring at you like a predator about to devour its prey.

Himiko:

Warnings- adult content, mentions of stalking, biting, oral, slight knife use (your poor panties), swearing, home... invasion?

Note- I’m not sure how old Toga is. Granted that she wears a school uniform and she crushes on Izuku, I’m setting her age to 20 here because I’m really not sure.

Being stalked by villains is not something you’re unfamiliar with. Being called a stone-faced, soulless shell of of a woman is not something you’re unfamiliar with either, a result of the public eye constantly fixated on you. On the contradictory, a grown ass villain flirting with your austere being was something you were quite unused to. Toga Himiko of the League of Villains was always hot on your trail, quick to retreat when noticed yet quick to notice you first. The smile that would crack her lips open was clearly meant for you and for you alone, always used as a flirtatious taunt. It wasn’t uncommon for you to track her down and chase after her, nor was it uncommon for her to track you down and leap after you.

Your game of push-and-pull had been on for a while. She was always so quick to escape no matter the situation, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out how she did it. Nor could you figure out how the hell she got into your apartment. While you were there. Granted, you were asleep, but still...

She grins at you again in your bedroom doorway, that grin you know well, and seems to fiddle with the belt loop at her shorts, having long since abandoned the school girl schtick. It only worked for so long anyway. “Y/n-chan,” she beams, nearly drooling. “I had a nightmare, can I sleep with you tonight?” Her voice is sweet and lilted, and for a split second you believe her. She still had that sweet and harmless-looking appearance despite being a hardened villain. You lick your lips almost unconsciously, which she takes as an invitation to your bed, except she yanks your bedding off of you unceremoniously to replace it with her body as she straddles your hips.

You stare at her, your hands instinctively going for the sides of her thighs, with which she seems quite pleased as she squeaks at you. “You look so small down there, hero,” she mutters, her grin ear-to-ear. “So cuuute!” Her eyes then narrow almost darkly at you and she cocks her head sideways. “So quiet. Are you still sleepy, hm?”

Her thighs are so plump and sweet that you gulp underneath her while wondering what she’d taste like, but she shakes her head at you. “No, not tonight, lovey.” Himiko leans down and lunges her tongue into your open mouth, your moans mixing together as she does so, albeit yours increases in volume when she palms your breast through your shirt and squeezes before flicking her finger at your hardening nipple. The villain pulls away from you too quickly, sitting up so briskly your head almost spins, as she ignores the trail of saliva that follows. Her hips are adjusted atop you before she grabs the hem of your shirt and brings it up to your mouth. You catch on immediately and comply, biting the fabric into place as she goes to town kissing and licking your sternum between your tits. Golden, sharp eyes never leave yours in the moment, and her mouth feels hot against your skin as you moan. Her groping at your legs only serves to make you more vocal.

The bloodthirsty woman travels down your navel, yet goes right past where you want her most, while your whine is punctuated by the bucking of your hips. Himiko instead elects to suckle at your hip and upper thigh, before she parts your legs and settles between them. You jolt a little as she licks a stripe up your thigh until her tongue is a finger’s width away from the throbbing wetness between your legs. She giggles at your response, then landing a quick, tiny bite on your thigh before licking her lips. You don’t realise you’ve reached out to grab the top of her head and pulled it toward you until you feel the softness of her hair underneath your fingertips and another giggle escapes her. Himiko’s tongue pokes out from her lips as she pulls a knife from her belt to shred away at the hip of your panties before pulling them down to give her access to your throbbing clit.

Her tongue is quick to prod at your hole, then dragging up towards your clit before her lips are around it and sucking away. You cry out as a result, hips bucking again as your free hand clutches the bedsheet beneath you. You hear what sounds like a growl come from Himiko’s throat, then watch as her arms hook around your legs and hold your hips down. The sweat starting to coat your skin keeps her from getting a decent grip, so she uses force while her tongue dips into you and pokes around with her thumb rubbing at your swollen, puffy clit.

“Toga-chan-!”

Your whining out her name encourages her thumb to rub circles and increase its pace, Himiko finally letting out her own moan into your soaked cunt as her tongue begins to lick and suck away. Your grip on the sheets tightens until your knuckles are white, your mantra of moans music to her ears. Until suddenly, she pulls away, your essence coating her lips and practically dripping down her chin.

“Y/n-chan,” she says almost darkly, with the look in her eyes making your cunt clench around nothing, “you can’t cum yet.”