#it'd have been nice to have more options

[miamicommune]

thinking abt how nemesis kind of sets up what should be the most thematically interesting ambition in FL and how quickly that fades as it goes

[sysig]

Some possible* Tala stickers :D (Patreon)

[dreadbornesaint]

you know, i think the sense of yearning that's so pervasive in beryl is there no matter what. she always yearns for that which she cannot have. it's less...intense, in say, her modern verse. it's changed, but it's still there. there's always something she cannot grasp, whether it's true in reality or merely the product of her perception.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

today on my When All You Have is a D10 project: Rolling a 6 with a D100.

-

1-16: Option 1

17-32: Option 2

33-48: Option 3

49-64: Option 4

65-80: Option 5

81-96: Option 6

97-100: Reroll

-

if you get that last one you can reroll the ones column, tens column, or both, up to you. tune in next time for so fucking help me i WILL find an efficient way to substitute dice for a deck of playing cards

[xx-justsomeguy-xx]

reminding myself that what i think is hot/fun doesn't always line up with the choices dola would make but god it is so fun playing dolls sometimes

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, somnophilia, implied non/con, mentions of knots.

Puppy!Yuuta, who catches your eye the second you step into the shelter, despite the fact that he’s not at all what you were looking for. You need a service animal, and as cruel as it feels to say, hybrids of undeterminable origins with less-than-stellar past homes aren’t known to be very consistent, let alone trainable when it comes to such a high-stakes job. You were supposed to meet a pure-bred, highly recommended husky hybrid whose previous owner was no longer able to take care of him, but it was over for you as soon as you saw those big, dark, watery eyes – nearly hidden entirely by overgrown hair and jet-black ears that seemed to droop even lower whenever you threatened to look away from him. You’re already a lost cause by the time you ask a shelter employee for his name, and the paperwork’s signed within the hour. He leaves with you the same day, eyes on the ground and tail wagging a mile a minute.

Puppy!Yuuta, who was always meant to be someone's spoiled pet. He's shy, at first, scared to talk too loudly or cling too tightly or do anything that'll get him sent back to the shelter (no matter how clear you make it that that's a non-option), but it only takes him a few days to warm up to you, a couple weeks to come out of his shell, just under a month to start sleeping in your bed and trailing you around your apartment. He almost trips over himself when you ask if he'd like to wear a collar, and soon enough, he's more akin to a second-shadow than a dog. He does have some aggression issues, particularly when it comes to human men, but he's an angel with other hybrids, and when he bows his head and pouts, you really can't help but forgive him. With a life like the one he must've had, you can't really blame him for being so quick to bear his teeth.

Puppy!Yuuta, who's more than ecstatic when you mention still needing a service animal. He might not be qualified on paper, sure, but he's already constantly at your side, constantly worrying about you - it'd just feel wrong to go out and get another hybrid for a job Yuuta is more than capable of. He says he likes that idea of being able to take care of you, too - like you take care of him. You want to ask him not to be so sappy, to think of a slightly less sentimental way to say it, but when he's so happy and so, so proud of himself, it's hard to be even that strict.

Puppy!Yuuta, who cums untouched the first time you comb your fingers through his hair. You don't seem to notice, and he does his best to hide his face in your lap, to bite back the little, pathetic whimpers that crawl up his throat whenever you scratch at the base of his ears. He doesn't want to scare you, to be so needy so suddenly when you've been so kind.

Puppy!Yuuta, whose one and only flaw is that he can't seem to stop riffling through your dirty laundry. He can't be left alone for more than an hour without stealing one of your oldest, most threadbare shirts or worse, claiming a pair of your underwear as his newest chew-toy. You really should chastise him for it, but it's such an awkward thing to talk about, and he has such a sweet face - it's hard to believe he could ever do anything deliberately wrong. You've resigned yourself to just trying to limit the damage and salvage the less damaged items, even if those mysterious stains are a little hard to get out.

Puppy!Yuuta, who wishes he didn't have such a big, bulky knot. It's too thick and too heavy and seems to swell up whenever he gets even a little hard. If he didn't have a knot, he'd be able to actually thrust into you, rather than just fucking his fist over your sleeping body and imagining how tight you'd be, how pretty you'd look, how nice it would be to make you feel as warm and as soft as he feels because of you. He does what he can with his tongue, but you don't seem to like waking up with his saliva soaking everything between your thighs, and he always gets too excited when he tastes you. If he has to rut against your thigh that desperately again, he's afraid you might wake up and scold him.

Puppy!Yuuta, who can't wait until he works up the courage to mate with you properly. He knows it's still too soon, that it'd scare you to do it so abruptly, that he doesn't deserve it yet, but soon, he'll be able to to step up and take care of you as something more than just a pet. He's not there right now, but one day, he just knows he'll be the perfect mate for you <3

[inthenameofsverige]

@ the custom mc skin poll results:

yup thats about what i expected

[applejarjar]

Damn, ppl do this waiting for a job offer thing all the time?

[chikaras-garden]

Imagine you go to buy some furniture with Jason (or dick), and all they can think about the entire time is how easy it'd be to fuck you. Would he be able to bend you over that counter over there? Would it be too high? Too low? Would you somehow get hurt?

The idea for this was instant. Like a fever dream. 

“Nah,” Jason says, patting his palm against the kitchen island you point out to him. With each option, he spends a full two minutes pacing around it, bending to inspect the countertop, the cabinets—how thorough he is would be admirable if he actually liked anything. 

Hands in his pockets, he strolls back over to where you’ve been waiting for him to decide. “That one’s too tall for you.”

Almost ready to give up, you half-heartedly point to the one next to it. “What about this one?” 

“C’mon, baby,” he scoffs. “That’s got wheels.”

Incredulous, you ask, “Why can’t we have wheels?”

“You’ll get hurt.”

“Huh?”

“Can’t have you slipping on me,” he tuts, already strolling away. “Broken jaws aren’t sexy.”

You stay right where you are, growing more confused by the second. “I’m not going to break my jaw while I’m cooking, Jay.”

He pauses and turns just enough to look over his shoulder. His eyes glint with an I know something you don’t know sort of mischief, and one half of his mouth twitches into a shit-eating grin. “Didn’t say anything about cooking, kitten.”

You blink. Your cheeks grow warm. Oh. Oh. Oh, God.

“Jason Peter—”

“No wheels, less than three inches higher than your waist, no pointy door pulls, and I think you’d look nice against a white quartz top,” he interrupts, firing off wish list items like bullets, as if he’s not talking about the ideal qualities for a kitchen island on which he plans to rail you. “Let’s keep looking, baby; might have to bend you over a couple of these to see how comfortable they are for you.”

[hopelessdazai]

✿ 》 To Hold or Be Held?

╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; writing witj this many characters was scary . pls ignore any typos or errors or mischaracterisation im learning. reblogs appreciated!!

╰⧼ ☀️ features.. ⧽ ; Chuuya, Dazai, Atsushi, Akutagawa, Nikolai, Fyodor, gn!reader ( fem terms in fyodors and mentions of boobs in nikolais parts )

╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; fluff, cuddles, all those nice things, nikolai being nikolai, possible mischaracterisation

dazai

dazai doesn't have a preference. he enjoys both being held and holding you for the same reason. when he's holding you, he's holding on tight - part of him is still scared you're gonna leave him if he gets too comfortable. and if you're holding him he always finds himself melting into you, his hands shakily gripping at your clothes as he smothers himself against your chest. he adores how your hands find his hair and comb through it. if he puts all his weight onto you, you can't go anywhere, right?

".. 'm sorry .. don't get up, just five more minutes. I'll be good ..- you're warm .. 'm sorry.. "

chuuya

chuuya prefers to hold. be adores the feeling of you in his arms, it makes him feel like he's protecting you from the known - blanketed by his strong embrace. he traces 'I love you's on your back knowing you're too comfortable and sleepy to know what he's writing - his thumb writes his name into your hip when you think he's just rubbing circles. little possessive things like that, just to quietly manifest that you stay with him. he can press a gentle kiss to the top of your head and tease you for being so clingy ; even though he's holding you tight too.

".. you need the bathroom? .. you can hold it, jus' stay with me for a while longer .. I love you .. pretty thing you are .."

atsushi

atsushi prefers to hold. while he won't ever deny being held, usually he finds himself pulling you on top of him to keep you in his embrace while he takes a nap. your head on his chest and his arms resting around your waist, while he gently purrs to soothe you to sleep with him. he hasn't been able to take solo naps since you've been around - and he knows you enjoy resting with him too, anyway. so what's the harm when he tugs you over to the detective agency couch and asks you to take a quick break? you've both been working hard , after all.

"let's have a quick break, okay? we can stay finish everything later .. you're gonna exhaust yourself out, sweetheart .. just 10 minutes .."

akutagawa

akutagawa prefers to be held. he'll never admit it to anyone, especially not to you. but you can see the way he relaxes and sinks into you when you wrap your arms around him. the way he takes a long exhale and his shoulders deflate as your hand traces a certain spot on his back. he likes listening to your heartbeat, he likes knowing you're alive and with him for who he is - and not what he can do. he's still learning to love and to trust, but it's a little easier when it's by your side. he hopes you wont leave him, he'll work to impress you as he grows.

".. what? no, I'm not falling asleep. you're imagining things. you .. mm .. can you do that again ?"

nikolai

nikolai doesn't have a preference. he's like a big dog, despite his size he'll absolutely lay himself on top of you and nuzzle into your chest. if you have boobs then he won't be moving for a while, so kiss your oxygen goodbye. whenever he wants to hold you, he's not really one to ask ; he'll just drag you over onto him or use a portal to drop you into his lap, then he's clinging to you and whining desperately whenever you try to leave. he's just big and clingy, but can you fault him? he finds you so comforting.

" .. where are you going? no! you can't leave .. do you not love me anymore ?.. why do you wanna leave !.. just stay with me .. thank you .."

fyodor

fyodor prefers to hold. if neither was an option, it'd most likely be that. but he regularly asks you to come sit on his lap while he works. a small whistle as he turns his chair, patting his thigh - and he'll wrap an arm around you to keep you close. he's not too affectionate, and too much touching before your marriage repulses him. but he'll learn to deal with these little moments for a while - it gives him his energy back and helps him with a little push to finish his work so you rest together.

" .. зайчик .. come here. no, I'm not finished. just come. don't be disobedient , now .. there we are. good girl."

[barcaatthemoon]

love me tender || leah williamson x reader ||

leah helps you through some of your pain after you tear your acl.

minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.

the ache in your leg was almost overwhelming. you had spent all day stuck in bed unable to move because of it. you knew that tearing your acl during camp was bad, but you had never expected the pain to be this bad. usually leah was there to get you medicine and take care of you, but it would be another hour and a half before she got back from practice.

all you wanted was some sort of distraction from the pain, but you were quickly running out of options. usually, you'd try to watch something, but you couldn't focus on anything. sleep was always good, if only you weren't in so much pain that you couldn't even begin to fall asleep.

after nearly an hour, you remembered what you had done for leah whenever she had a bad day when her acl had been torn. you knew that it'd be hard for you to cum in so much pain, but the pleasure was a nice distraction from everything going on with your body.

it was a slow start with your hands massaging the inside of your own thighs. you closed your eyes and tried to think of all the things that leah usually did to you. you let your fingers dance all across your own skin like hers did. all you wanted was leah, but you could only hope that she'd be back soon. and as much as you wanted her, you truly and deeply believed that she deserved some time away from you.

"fuck leah," you moaned as your fingers finally dipped down past your shorts. you were definitely teasing yourself as you stroked your fingers against yourself through your underwear. they'd be ruined if you continued like this for long, but you could always buy another pair or two later.

just as you were awkwardly shimmying out of your shorts and underwear, leah was entering the apartment. leah generally liked to announce her arrival, but since it was so quiet and you had been a bit down when she left, leah assumed that you were sleeping. she quietly tiptoed up the little set of stairs to your bedroom and pushed open the door.

your eyes were screwed shut as you pleasured yourself. leah's gaze was torn between your two hands. your left hand was grabbing at your breasts, alternating to give attention to both. your right hand was rubbing furiously at your clit as your hips moved up and down trying to chase after something that you knew was futile. even without the pain, you hadn't made yourself cum since you started regularly having sex with leah.

"oh my god," leah whispered in shock as she watched you. you had absolutely no clue that leah was there until you felt the dip in the bed as she moved to lay between your legs. "move your hand up and don't stop on my account, i want to help you. please."

"okay," you agreed. you moved your right hand up to tease your other breast. leah licked her lips as she took in the sight once more before she dove down between your legs. leah's tongue moved slowly against your clit, and the switch from your frantic rubbing made your head spin. "leah, oh my god. you feel so good."

"that's all i want to do. all i ever want to do is make you feel good love," leah told you. "do you want my fingers too?"

"no, i like this. this is good," you answered. leah hummed as she dipped her head down once again. the slow strides of her tongue helped to calm you down a bit. it was much easier not to think about your pain with leah pleasuring you instead of trying to do it yourself.

leah's hand moved to gently rub around your knee, seemingly soothing some of that pressure away as well. you began to feel the relaxation spread throughout your entire body at this. you were used to exciting and dramatic orgasms with leah, but the subtly of this one was welcome. too much thrashing around and muscle stress only would have hurt you further. leah seemed to know this, and backed away as soon as you showed signs of coming down.

"stay there, i'll be right back," leah ordered. she gave you a quick peck on the lips before she left you on the bed. you stayed there until she came back to wipe away the mess between your legs. she cleaned you up, but you could tell that she wasn't finished yet. you were given clean clothes, and by the time that you were finished dressing yourself, leah was back with an ice pack and some pain pills for your knee.

"all for me?" you tilted your head and smiled up at her. the sight of you made leah's chest feel warmer. you were visibly more relaxed than you had been when she left. that had been a point of contention that morning with leah insisting that she could reschedule her afternoon plans because of the pain in your knee. "you don't have to do all this."

"of course i do, and not just because your big sister scares me. i seem to remember you giving up almost everything to take care of me when i got hurt. i've never been great at this sort of thing, it kind of hurt my relationship with jordan, but i'm getting better. that's because of you, you've shown me how to be a proper homemaker," leah said. she tried to laugh and make it sound more casual than it was, but you could hear the little waiver in her voice.

"you didn't need help, you just needed to get over yourself first. don't worry though, i won't let any of the other girls know that you're so soft. i know that georgia and lucy wouldn't let you hear the end of it," you laughed. leah bit her lip as she looked away from you. still, you could see the rosy hue to her cheeks that wasn't usually there. "but if you want, you can go around telling them all that i made you a kept woman."

"maybe, but i doubt that would do anything for my reputation. keira already gives me shit for how whipped i am for you. i don't know how she knows about that though, do you have any idea (y/n)?"

"not a clue, maybe she just sees right through you," you muttered as you leaned in to kiss leah. leah scoffed, but still accepted the kiss graciously. "lee, baby, do you think that you could get me something to eat? chicken and noodles if we have any left in the fridge please."

"i'll be right back." leah left without even stopping to think, not even when she heard you chuckle as she made her way down the steps. leah knew that she was whipped, and it wouldn't have taken your weekly phone calls with keira for the midfielder to figure that one out. she had stayed with both you and leah the last time that she was in london before you'd officially moved in together, so she had seen firsthand the way leah was around you.

[john-get-the-salt]

Packed Lunch (w/spencer reid)

Imagine: One morning Spence is in a rush to leave for work and forgets his lunch. You know he gets cranky when he gets hungry, so that only leaves one option.

Contains: secret relationship becoming not so secret anymore, funny Rossi, cute domestic Reid

It'd been exactly 39 minutes since Spencer left for work and you hadn't moved a muscle, standing and glaring at the bag sitting on the counter. It wasn't that the bag itself had offended you, as it was in fact just a harmless brown paper bag. What did offend you, was that it wasn't with Spencer like it should be. The packed lunch was no good if Spencer didn't pack it with him to work.

He'd been in such a rush leaving that morning that he zipped out the door without it. Whenever he stayed the night at your place you made sure to pack him a lunch, knowing that he wasn’t always the best at caring for himself.

Forgetting to bring lunch wasn't usually a big deal for most people. You knew that the federal building where he worked had a cafeteria.

But this was Spencer Reid you were talking about. And Spence hated the cafeteria food. On the occasion he forgot his lunch he'd just go the entire day living off coffee and whatever snacks were hidden in his desk. Then he’d go back to either his apartment or yours, starving and with a nasty headache.

This meant without his lunch he would most likely not be eating today. And as you thought about how stressed and overworked he'd been lately, that did not sit well with you.

So it was decided. You would drop his food off.

He was just in the office for the day as far as you knew, so you were moderately sure you could just leave it with the front desk or something and have them take it up to him.

The two of you had been dating for several months but agreed to keep it secret from his coworkers for now. Spencer was adamant that in his line of work he could never have any secrets, and for once he wanted to have something all to himself. You couldn't even begin to understand how he did what he did, so that was an easy request to grant.

You had since then discussed telling his co-workers about your relationship as you two became more serious, but the right time hadn't come up yet. Plus it made you giggle when he told you the tales of his co-workers trying to set him up or making fun of his lack of romantic life.

This all meant you couldn't just stroll into the building and announce to everyone that you were dropping food off for your boyfriend, Spencer Reid. You would need to quickly and discretely drop the food off and then be gone without a trace.

No harm in that at all. Right?

You quickly got dressed and grabbed the lunch. Living within walking distance of the BAU headquarters was extremely handy, especially today. It was a nice day and you enjoyed the weather as you walked.

It only took about 15 minutes before you were pulling the doors to the government building open, immediately being hit with a rush of cool air. The inside was full of people who looked like they really meant business in their fancy suits and stern faces. You sudden felt self conscious in your normal ‘civilian’ attire, and scurried up to the front desk to get this over with.

The lady at the front desk seemed disinterested, and barely looked up when you stopped in front of her.

"Can I help you?"

"Hi, yes. I was hoping I could drop off this food for my boyfriend. He works here and forgot it this morning and he always gets cranky when he's hungry and-"

"Ma'am we don't deliver food."

"I know I just-he's going to be hungry and I can tell you what department he works for and maybe someone could run it up to him real quick."

She pulled open a binder from her desk, sighing heavily. "Can I get his name and your name?"

"Oh, um, his name is Spencer Reid, and mine is but I don't work here I'm-"

"Here. You're already a registered visitor."

She handed you a clip on badge with Visitor printed on it in big bold letters. "Give that to security, then elevators are to the left and there's a directory on the wall. Have a good day."

Before you could even argue she was dismissing you and addressing the person in line behind you. So you forced your feet to move and head towards security. You felt like a fraud walking amongst agents and other government workers, and you kept your gaze down to avoid eye contact. After your purse got checked and your visitor badge got scanned you shuffled to the elevators.

You paused in front of the directory on the wall, squinting at the dozens of names listed. Where the fuck was the BAU?

You must've looked as confused as you felt, as someone stopped beside you.

“Ma'am? Do you need help finding something?"

You turned towards the voice, coming face to face with a kind-looking older man.

"Oh! I do actually, if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course, what department are you looking for?"

"Um, the BAU?"

"Well I can definitely help you there."

He pressed the elevator button and the two of you waited for a moment before the doors opened and the elevator emptied. He gestured forward and you gave him an appreciative smile before stepping in. He followed along with a few other people. It remained quiet as the elevator rose and stopped at occasional floors, people getting in and out.

Eventually it stopped at floor 6 (totally making this up idk) and the man announced this was the stop.

You followed him off the elevator and onto a floor that was still busy, but nearly as much as the lobby. Straight ahead, down a little hall, were a set of glass doors with BAU printed on the front. You chewed on your lip as you stared the door down, contemplating.

How were you going to casually drop Spence's lunch off without creating suspicion? You couldn't exactly just walk right in and hand it to him without people questioning who you were.

"Can I help you find anyone in particular?"

"Oh no that's okay, you've helped plenty. I don't want to keep you from your business."

"Please, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't help?"

This was so not the plan. But what other option did you have? You hadn't accounted for this scenario, you were positive you wouldn't make it past the front desk. But now here you were, and you needed to make sure this food got to Spence. Plus it probably wasn't smart to aimlessly wander around an FBI building. With your luck someone would think you were a terrorist or something. And you were not a terrorist.

"I didn't think you were, but my confidence in that is now wavering."

Oh my god. You said that last part out loud. To an FBI agent.

“Oh god I’m so sorry, I did not mean to say that out loud. I swear I’m not a terrorist. I have this terrible habit of saying dumb things when I’m nervous.”

Could this get any worse? All you wanted to do was drop your boyfriends lunch off and now you were talking about terrorism with an FBI agent.

To your relief, the man just chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve heard plenty worse. Now who are you looking for?”

At this point you were ready for the earth to just swallow you whole and you were deeply regretting ever leaving the apartment.

“Spencer Reid,” you said simply as you held up the bag in hand. “I have his lunch.”

“Spencer? He’s just through these glass doors, follow me.”

At this point, you didn’t care who saw you. You didn’t care that it sounded like this man knew Spence, and may or may not think you are a terrorist.

You just wanted fo give Spence his lunch and get the fuck out of dodge.

Following the stranger through the glass doors, you found yourself in a much quieter area. The entrance led out onto a catwalk from where you could see clusters of desks below you and a little coffee bar against the wall.

"I'll just set the lunch over here-"

"(Y/N)?"

You looked up at the voice and found your boyfriend standing below you at a desk, a concerned look on his face. He left the group of people he was standing with and jogged up the steps towards you.

"Hey, is everything ok? Did something happen? Are you ok?" His eyes were wide with concern, words coming out fast as he glanced over you. His hands automatically reached for yours, something the two of you did without thought.

"I'm fine, my love. You just forgot your lunch," you held up the paper bag. "I tried to drop it off at the front desk but the lady just gave me this pass and told me to bring it up. Then I almost got lost but this nice guy stopped and helped but I was so nervous I accidentally said something about terrorism and I know I shouldn't drop by unannounced but I also know how cranky you get when you're hungry and I-"

"(Y/n)," he cut your anxious rambling off, smiling in relief that everything was ok. "Thank you."

You smiled back up at him, relieved he wasn’t upset. "You're quite welcome. And I must say I feel so official with my badge even though I absolutely do not belong here."

He laughed. "I think you fit right in."

"Well I-"

"Reid?"

You both froze and became suddenly re-aware of the current setting. You looked up at your boyfriend with wide, worried eyes.

Spencer sighed, though that dopey smile of his remained on his face. "I think our secret is out."

He intertwined his hand in yours and together you turned towards the voice. Standing with varying looks of confusion and smugness were a group of people you recognized as his co-workers.

"Who's this?"

Spencer cleared his throat. "Um, guys this is… my girlfriend."

You gave a hesitant wave, trying not to shrink under the intimidating gazes. The office was quiet for a moment, before someone else burst into the room

"Did Reid just say girlfriend?!"

"That's correct, babygirl," one of them spoke up. "Pretty boys got himself a girlfriend."

The blonde gasped, before rushing forward and grabbing you into a hug.

"It is SO nice to meet you!"

You laughed as you hugged her back.

“It's lovely to meet you too, Penelope. All of you.”

She released you and you turned towards the rest of the team.

“Spence is always showing me pictures and talking about you guys, I hope you understand us wanting to keep it quiet for a while. But I've been really looking forward to meeting you."

A man with a stern look in his eye stepped forward, holding out a hand. "Aaron Hotchner," his eyes seemed to soften as you shook his hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

That broke the rest of the team out of this trance and they all gathered forward to formally introduce themselves. You shook everyone's hands and giggled as they ogled at the fact that Spencer had caught himself a girlfriend.

You learned, with a laugh, that the man who'd helped you find your way was in fact David Rossi, one of Spence's coworkers. I’m your anxious mess you hadn’t recognized the man.

You explain to everyone that you were just dropping off Spencer's lunch, but you weren't getting away that easily.

Penelope and JJ convinced you to stay, and you all spent the lunch break sitting around a conference table chatting. Hearing stories about Spence on the job had you cry laughing and you happily indulged his friends in some stories of your own.

The entire time Spencer kept a tight hold of your hand, smile never wavering as he watched his favorite people laugh together.

His family.

[whirlybirbs]

— BURNER CELL ; 2 ; DABI ; 荼毗

summary: after a week of silence, you finally text dabi. pairing: dabi / f!reader ; quirkless word count: 1.3k tag: humor, maladjusted dabi meets normal adult woman, flirting, canon-based world building, cancer mention, texting as a plot device, slight au, univeristy student!reader a/n: this stole all my concentration. siri play emo boy by ayesha erotica ← previous | the tag

It's the kind of week where, aside from class, human interaction isn't really on life's setlist. 

It's also the kind of week where you rediscover making a meal of raw cookie dough straight from the package. Your econ textbook might have a stranglehold on you, but you make enough time to scarf down a few globs between chapters — after all, who needs protein or fiber when you're sure this five-year master's program will kill you first?

Your head hurts.

You slump against the counter, refilling your water bottle. 

It's late now — and you can feel the quiet woes beginning to wane as you blink at the clock. By now, your friends are probably on their second or third drinks. You turned the invite down when they asked yesterday. Nuri tugged on your sweater sleeve and pouted the best pout she could manage, but you didn't budge. 

I've gotta finish this paper, I'm sorry, Nur'. 

You roll your jaw as you shut the faucet off, wandering to your freezer to wrangle some cubes from the tray. You bend it slowly, deep in thought. A few pop out, and you idly drop them into your water bottle with a twang. 

You're staring at your phone. It's by your computer on the counter. 

...You never did text Dabi. 

You told yourself it was for the best — after all, you weren't looking for a catastrophic derailment of your life at the moment. Things are good. You're two semesters away from finishing University, your family's bakery back in Kyoto is doing well, and Dad's chemotherapy seems to be working. Things are good! It's almost fall, you've managed to stick to your monthly budget, and Mizu settled in happily to your new apartment. 

No four-day poop strike like the last time you moved.

The large tuxedo cat in question ambles through the kitchen — brushing against your leg and letting out a long, low mrrooow. 

Things are great! 

You shouldn't text Dabi.

But... even if you did, it's not like it'd be the end of the world, right?

Wait, could he figure out where you lived from your number...?

You could use one of those anonymous texting services. Then, it wouldn't even be your number. Just some fake string of digits that allow you to satiate the bizarre curiosity that's been swirling in your head for the last week. 

You're sure the novelty will wear off. 

He's probably not even going to respond. 

You're telling yourself this is stupid as you begin to set up an account with the service — the app boasts privacy, andunlimited calls and texts... You can't help but feel a little strange as you finalize your account. 

It's done.

You import his contact with two taps and stare at the blank screen. 

...Now what?

Are you really going to do this? I mean — he's a wanted criminal. He's a member of the League of Villains. If anyone ever found out you were in contact with him, you'd be toast. You'd have All Might kicking your door in and demanding to look through your phone and that mental image is enough to make you cringe. Say goodbye to your degree, goodbye toyour future as Sakura Flour's owner, and goodbye to freedom. You're sure the Safety Commission would place you on some watch list for the rest of your life, and frankly, your tweets are already questionable. You don't need more scrutiny. 

...So, there are two options. 

Delete his number and move on... or don't get caught. 

You shouldn't text Dabi.

...But, you do.

Truth be told, he isn't shocked to see that cute Nuri girl hanging on Giran's arm again. The Broker seems pretty into her — the guy even mentioned something about taking her to a nice dinner during the week as a congrats on passing some big test. Dabi can't blame him. She's cute. Looks good in red. Not his type, but he can appreciate it from time to time.

However, Dabi is a little shocked that you're not a part of the group cheering in Giran's VIP section. There's bottle service being ordered, laughter, dancing, and a gaggle of pretty, five college girls — and none of them are you. 

His lips twist into a scowl. 

He decides he's leaving; his piss-poor drink is tossed back, and he dumps a bill down for the bartender before tugging his hood up and sucking his teeth. 

He never liked this club anyway.

He's crossing the threshold of the back door, stepping into the damp and dark alley, when the phone in his back pocket buzzes. Someone's smoking a Marlboro by the dumpster. The familiar smell makes Dabi's fingers twitch. 

He's tryna quit.

He tugs the phone from his pocket, no longer bothered by the splintered glass screen. His battery is at 13%. This fuckin' thing barely holds a charge anymore. 

The number on the screen isn't one he knows.

Dabi's passcode is unnecessarily long. His phone clicks open as he narrows his eyes and shambles towards the opening in the alley. He doesn't know this number. He has everyone's cell memorized that he needs. Shigaraki, Toga, Spinner, Jin, Compress, even Giran. He doesn't keep contacts. Doesn't work when he's ditching phones all the time. He's got his noggin. That's good enough.

The text is one word:

hi.

Dabi's squinting at the text when another buzzes through. 

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:48pm sorry, this is bar girl

→ dabi ; 11:46pm thought u were never gonna txt me ur girlie nuri is here where r u

There's no way.

Your phone buzzes three times from its far place where it sits face down on the counter — you just walked away from it, hellbent on distracting yourself while you waited out the potential reply. You go rigid in your kitchen. 

Did he seriously text you back immediately?

You purse your lips, then slink towards the phone. It buzzes again.

→ dabi ; 11:47pm c'mon don't leave me hangin pretty

Your eyes are wide as you stare at the string of replies. He has read receipts turned on like the psychopath he is. 

You lean back against the counter, chewing your cuticle as you let out a ragged sigh. Nuri is with him? Or... No, they said they were going to that club you hate. 

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:4pam oh, are they at the bar?‎

Dabi's fingers move fast.

→ dabi ; 11:49pm nah in downtown club tropical or whatever the fuck it's called

You snort a little.

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:49pm i hate that place. their drinks suck.

Dabi has started making his way back to their hideout — back to the shit box apartments they're renting above Kurogiri's bar. He's slow, idly texting as he weaves through the crowds of nightlife in Kamino Ward. 

→ dabi ; 11:50pm a girl after my own heart where r u ur dodging my question u on a date or smthng????

He's insistent, you'll give him that. You cross your legs as you lean back against the laminate counter and chew the inside of your lip.

He's typing. It starts, then stops, then starts again. 

When you start typing, the bubble disappears. 

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:50pm nah, got a huge paper to finish uni student, remember? sorry to disappoint 

→ dabi ; 11:51pm ur missin out giran got bottle service  him and nuri looked cozy

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:51pm not shocked she thinks she can fix him

→ dabi ; 11:51pm ooooo love when that happens poor girl

Typing... 

Typing...

→ dabi ; 11:51pm u think u can fix me? :p

The emoji makes your face break into a smile — it's so... not what you expected. 

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:52pm nah i'm not stupid

→ dabi ; 11:52pm just busy.... really lame of u tbh coulda been fun

← 909.999.3399 ;  11:52pm wasting cash on mid drinks is the opposite of fun

→ dabi ; 11:52pm i meant seeing me

Oh, what the fuck.

Why does that text make your face feel hot? Why does that text make you feel like you're not texting the League of Villain's #1 Arsonist, but some cute boy from class? He's not a cute boy from class. He's a danger to society. 

You're glad you don't have the opportunity to reply. Your phone is buzzing in your hands, the haptic feedback lighting the neurons in your brain on fire.  

→ dabi ; 11:53pm gtg phone is gonna die have fun with ur paper u loser hope u get a good grade or whatever i'll txt u later

You shouldn't have texted Dabi.

But you did. 

[infamous-if]

To Gender Select, or to Not Gender Select

So as everyone knows, I'm using the opportunity for this rewrite to really step back and look at what I have so far. I have just subscribed to the whole "follow my gut" thing and for the last two months or so, my gut has been telling me something.

For context, I created Orion (and I have mentioned this a couple times when I first opened this blog) that he came to me fully formed. While other ROs were more of a puzzle that appeared more and more fleshed out with every detailed I added, Orion was like a jenga block tower that grew more and more unsteady every time I changed a detail about him. He just came to me exactly as he was and I didn't really think beyond that. For example, with G, pieces of both Gina and Griffin came to me at the same time and G isn't G without both versions. With Orion he was just...Orion.

But lately—and this was not without many suggestions asking for it!—I've been playing around with the idea of a female version of his character.

One of my biggest things was to make sure that this wasn't a matter of just changing a variable. When it comes to my gender selectable ROs, I want to make sure I'm including the subtleties and nuances that come with being a man/woman in the public eye, especially for O. Their route is heavily centered around the idea of professionalism and...other things I can't mention and I think it'd be super interesting to add another component of being a woman, not only typically stern and taciturn but in a dominant position in music mostly taken up by men. Which is why, in the rewrite, there will be lines that are unique to Orion and unique to her. Reactions that are different, conversations that change. People who continue to romance Orion will prob not see a difference.

Not only does it separate them as two different people, it creates some distance from Orion, who is an established and beloved character already. I want his female counterpart to stand on her own as her own character.

Just because they have the same route does not mean they are the same person. I've always said that about my gender selectable characters.

This was not a spur of the moment decision. I was thinking about this for a while. I just needed to make sure every piece of Orion's route would make sense for her, and I do believe it does.

I've also been told many times how many people like Orion's route and the whole "manager-client" trope but are unable to play it as they are not attracted to men. I think this would be a nice addition and a way to make it more inclusive/give more people more routes to play!

The things I have written for Orion will probably stay the same since they've been written. Everything after the rewrite will have both options to select from.

So meet Oriana Quinn. With a short black bob usually greased back and a perfectly pressed suit, Oriana is as intimidating as she is determined. Yes, she's just as tall and muscular as her male counterpart and as obsessed with the gym as he. Her route with Cory will be different in its nature (since Cory is straight) but...guess we'll see!

fun fact: The beauty of Oriana being the name is that coincidentally, it also has to do with the sky. One of my requirements for finding a name like Orion's was that it was sky themed since it does come up. It almost seems like fate! haha

TLDR: Orion will be gender selectable. If you have plans to romance Orion and Orion alone, this will make no difference to you. For those who were hoping for this, I hope this news makes Infamous a bit more enjoyable for you! <3

[the-whispers-of-death]

I've been meaning to write for Sugar Daddy!Price, so here it is. This is me caving into my personal desires.

Minors and Ageless Blogs Do Not Interact!! While this post is SFW, my blog isn't!!

Perhaps you're in need of more money because of your student debt, your inflated rent, or simply because you want to live a more lavish lifestyle. Either way, you find yourself one of those sugar baby websites, putting yourself out there for all potential sugar daddies to see.

It took you a few failed sugar daddies, who only wanted you for sex, to find John Price. He was a military man, which made you wary, but he seemed really sweet in his chats with you and the real kicker?

He didn't want you to have sex with him.

So despite your initial hesitance, you took up John's offer of going out to dinner with him to sort out all of the details of your arrangement. You put on the fanciest suit you owned, leaving the house and getting into the very nice car that John sent over to pick you up.

When you got to the restaurant, which was indeed as fancy as you thought it'd be, John was there to greet you. He hadn't yet gotten seated at the table, leading to him gently guiding you as you two followed the waiter to your table.

The hand he placed at the small of your back warmed you through your clothes, as if it was touching bare skin. His pressure was firm, but not too firm to feel as though he was the only one driving your footsteps forward. It was more protective than commanding.

"Here, let me get that for you," John murmured as he went to pull out your chair for you. Despite you both being men, he clearly seemed to still want to be a gentleman, pushing your chair in when you sat down.

He ordered the drinks, giving you the option of an alcoholic drink or a non-alcoholic one. As the waiter left you two to go over the menu after giving you your drinks, you found it was the perfect time to start the conversation.

You worried your lip briefly before speaking. "So you said you're not looking for sex, but what are you looking for?" you asked, curiosity dripping in your voice. "What does being your sugar baby entail?"

John smiled at your question, leaning back in his seat to look at you fully. "It doesn't entail much, I'm away on deployments most of the time. I just want someone to take out on dates and to be in my presence when I am home from deployments," he answered, blunt to the point where you were surprised by his honesty. "I don't expect you to only have one sugar daddy or even not have a boyfriend, though I will still pay you even if I'm on deployments, I just ask to have your attention when I am home."

"Too busy to date?" you teased, relishing in the way your comment made a mischievous glint sparkle in Price's blue eyes.

"I am too busy to date and most people don't want a partner who's away for months on end." John swiped a drop of wine off his bottom lip before it could fall, your eyes instinctively tracking the movement. He then refocused on you. "Sugar babies are much easier in that respect, I don't have to worry about someone not liking waiting for me because they're getting paid."

You took in his words, mulling it over in your mind as the waiter came back, taking your orders. You then glanced up at John, taking in his handsome features and the offer he was giving you.

It was so nice to know that even when he was going to be deployed, he'd still be sending you money. Part of you felt like you were cheating him out of a good service, but the part of you that craved the money couldn't care. He clearly didn't.

As the food arrived, you two continued to sort out everything, John writing things down for when he'd draw up a contract for you two to sign. The rest of the dinner went well and since he was paying you for this dinner, you offered to come back to his place despite the fact that there was no contract yet.

John thought it over a while before shaking his head and gently turning you down, kissing your forehead and placing you in the car. He bid you goodbye before closing the door, signaling to the chauffeur to drive you back home.

You had a feeling being John's sugar baby would be interesting to say the least.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and request something! (Check the rules in "Rules for Requesting NSFW" before requesting.)

[dark666posting]

Fed to You

Drunk!Reader x Dark!Billy Hargrove

(There's a bonus prize near the end.)

TW: NON CON!! NON CON!! MEAN BILLY!! CIGARETTE BURN!!!!********

It's a rager. A blowout, end-of-the-year party at some rich kid's place right outside of Hawkins. You arrive with friends, but they quickly leave your side on their pursuit of flesh. You, however, only really care about getting drunk. It's been a hell of a last semester and your professors are giving you a run for your money in the form of "highly suggested" extra credit assignments.

You wipe the thoughts of school from your mind and reach for a gleaming bottle of crystal-clear vodka. Is it your first choice? Maybe not, but it'll have to do. You pour yourself a shot and offer to fill a few extra tiny glasses for anyone around you who wants one. Several people join in and you all 'cheers' sloppily before downing the harsh liquid.

From across the room, you've caught someone's eye. The most beautiful man you've seen in a while, Billy Hargrove. You remember him from High School, though, that was years ago. It's nice to see he still participates seeing as you hadn't seen him at the last few parties you attended. Maybe tonight is special. You can feel his face on you, but you don't think much of it. You're gorgeous and the alcohol only amplifies your confidence. Let him stare.

The night progresses and your drunkenness does the same. Taking you from a healthy buzz straight into blackout territory. You know your limits, though. You know that if you stopped right now, it'd be minimal damage and you could start fresh the next day. That'd be the smart option.

"Leaving already?" A smooth voice halts your stumble toward the door. You turn and Billy's exposed chest under his unbuttoned shirt gazes back at you. "My eyes are up here." You snap your vision to his grinning face. He's so close. You take a step back, but he wraps an arm around your shoulder and seems to effortlessly guide you to the kitchen where the counter is lined with half-empty bottles.

"Dude I gotta get home," you slur, trying to deny his offer.

"You can't drive like this, are you stupid?" He laughs, mocking you. It pisses you off, but you're too drunk to unpack it. He's right, you can't drive like this. "Here, let's keep the party going." Billy hands you another shot. The house is still bursting with life so you assume it's not that late and agree to shoot the fiery liquor. You shake your head as the shot leaves a lingering burn in your throat.

"Okay, okay," you laugh, belligerent. "I really need to find my friends, my- my friends." You stumble over your words, barely making sense. Billy just tilts his head and smiles at you, looking you up and down in your sexy little outfit.

"Don't be a pussy, finish this bottle with me," he demands, barely making an effort to be persuasive at all.

"I'm not a fuckin' pussy. You're a pussy." You snatch the bottle from his grip and turn it up. You're quite the show-off when you're drunk. You finish the last bit of liquor and sway where you stand, placing the bottle back on the counter with a little more force than necessary.

"Wow. You're pretty drunk, aren't you?" Billy asks, sarcastically. Your reply is nearly incoherent. "Let me take you home. I don't see your friends." Billy guides you towards the door and it doesn't really cross your mind that he doesn't know your friends and likely didn't see who you arrived with. He just wants you outside.

It's a foggy, late night. It just stopped raining and the roads nearby glisten with moisture under the dim street lamps. You're trying to focus your doubling vision when you accidentally misstep. You would've easily corrected yourself, but Billy takes this moment of imbalance as an opportunity and shoves you to the ground. Your head is spinning, you don't even realize you've been pushed.

You roll over onto your back, propped up by your elbows. There's no way you'll be able to stand back up on your own. You're looking up at Billy with hazy, unfocused eyes. He looks around as if to make sure the two of you are alone and shielded from prying eyes. He places his lit cigarette between his lips and hastily sheds his leather jacket. As he kneels over you, all you can see in the faint moonlight is his toned chest and the necklace hanging across it.

"Hey, what are you-" you begin to question nervously as Billy straddles you, but he cuts you off with a rough kiss. Confused, weak, and intoxicated, you try to push him away, but he's a lot stronger and a lot more sober than you are.

"Shhh, just shut up," he whispers, swiftly freeing his erection and stroking himself as he hovers over you.

"Billy!" You scold, trying to wiggle free. You're pinned down with your arms by your sides, held in place by his knees. He climbs further up your body, closer to your face. Once his knees pass your shoulders, you attempt to duck out from under him and hopefully run, but he's far ahead of you. He wraps a fist tightly in your hair and forces your mouth around his shaft.

"Come on, be a good girl," he mumbles past his cigarette as he aggressively turns your head back and forth to work his cock down your throat. You're hitting and clawing at him the best you can, but you're dreadfully uncoordinated and frankly, passing out. He fucks your mouth until you black out from the alcohol. Soft moans erupt from his chest as your lips and tongue slide wetly over his throbbing cock.

He finally withdraws from your mouth and glances around again. Still clear. He flicks his cigarette butt and starts to undress you. Your slutty outfit isn't much of an obstacle for him. Billy lifts your tiny, leather skirt and aggressively tears a large hole in your fishnet tights. He pumps his shaft as he ogles your barely-there thong just ever so slightly censoring your awaiting pussy.

Billy hooks a finger around your thong and slides it to the side. He wastes no time plunging two fingers deep inside you, curling them at just the right moment. Your unconscious body can't help but react. You arch your back and even release a sultry moan as he builds up your arousal. The more you react, the more Billy laughs at you.

You're blacked out and taking anything he wants to put inside you. You're disgusting. He smirks as you approach your orgasm only to remove his fingers at the last moment. Your quick breathing begins to slow as arousal pools between your legs, aching for completion.

"Don't worry, doll. I'm right here," he chuckles into your ear as he slides his massive erection into your edged hole. The pain and pleasure of being stretched out by his thick cock is enough to send your fleeting climax over the edge. The pain shakes you from your slumber and your eyes shoot open, widening in shock and fear.

"Help me! Some-" Your screams are cut short by Billy's hand slapping over your mouth.

"You really are fucking stupid, aren't you?" He growls, his face is blank and his jaw is rigid with building rage. He begins to thrust into you harder as punishment. The pain overtakes the pleasure and you sob into his hand. Tears stream down your face, dragging your makeup with it. You try to fight, but he pins your wrists down with ease. It's a game to him.

Eventually, you pass out again, leaving Billy to finish his task. He hunches over you, fucking you senseless, alternating between breathy moans and laughing at you. Your clothes are soaked from the wet grass, the more he thrusts, the more your hair becomes tangled with dead leaves and small sticks. He reaches up your intentionally tattered shirt and roughly gropes at your breasts.

The power, the domination he has over you could get him off time and time again, but it's always been funner just to fill you up and leave you too embarrassed to admit you can't remember who you fucked. He carelessly retrieves a cigarette from his pack and lights it, still fucking you, hands-free. The entire stoge is smoked to the filter and all the while he's slamming into you, intentionally abusing your vulnerability as much as possible. Billy's thrusts begin to waver and he picks up his speed for just a moment before one final slam into your pelvis. His cock twitches inside you as he fills you to the brim. He takes his finished cigarette and torturously stamps it out into your thigh as his warmth spills out into your swollen pussy.

"Jesus Christ," Billy breathes heavily as he stands, fastening his belt and pulling his jacket back on. He stands over you, looking down at your filthy, sloppy drunk form sprawled wide open on the ground. "What'd you say your name was again?" He asks with a laugh, with no intention of getting an answer. He knows you never told him.

"Dude... What the fuck?" A surprised voice calls from the darkened side of the street. Billy looks over his shoulder, following the sound. He's pissed off and ready to beat anyone to a pulp if they try to out him.

"Who's there?" Billy asks, calmly at first. A man emerges from the shadows, it's Eddie. He looks shocked and... Curious. Billy rolls his eyes. Eddie steps closer, eyes glued to the exposed, abused woman on the ground in front of Billy. Billy readjusts his jacket and turns to face Eddie.

"What did you do, man?" Eddie's eyebrows furrow, but his lack of anger tells Billy all he needs to know.

"She's all yours if you keep your mouth shut, freak." And that's all Billy says before climbing in his Camaro and speeding off.

Eddie hesitantly steps closer to you. You're disheveled and out cold. One of your breasts is exposed and your panties are soaked with anything from rainwater to cum. He fumbles for a moment with his belt and finally unsheathes a throbbing erection. Like he hasn't fucked since high school. He's quick to plunge it deep inside you, exhaling shaky breaths of disbelief as it slowly settles in that he's taking an unconscious woman against her will.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Eddie moans, slamming harder and harder into you. You waver on the cusp of awake and out cold, only ever coming back to release a sob or slutty moans. Eddie's mind is blown. "You like it? You fucking love it, don't you?" He whispers mouth pressed to your ear in lust.

"Please... Stop..." You barely whimper.

"Shhh," Eddie places a hand over your mouth, quickening his pace and finally finishing inside you as well. He wanted to last longer, but it just wasn't an option when he felt your pussy flex around him. He quickly fastens his jeans and belt and takes off without another word.

You're left there. Two different men's cum dripping out of your pussy and you likely won't remember either one.

The next day, you're found by a group of students from your college. You're humiliated and the news travels fast. You wish you could be more upset about the rumors, but truthfully, you just keep attending more and more parties, hoping the same two men will find you again.