#the real horrors lie in makeup i think

[jacksoldsideblog]

trying to imagine the toxicity of Paper Street Soap Company soap,

points of consideration:

-the pipes at paper street house are almost certainly corroded. hello lead

-do you suppose they're on city water or a private well? with the second, there's definitely potential groundwater contamination with solvents and heavy metals from the paper mill

-the fat of an animal is where most non-polar contaminants are accumulated — all your chlorinated pesticides, your dioxins and furans, all the POPs (persistent organic pollutants). regardless of the bougieness of the visitors of the liposuction clinic, there's probably some accumulated organic contaminants. however, the process of making tallow may completely remove them — i can't find a good answer, and my gut says it would either completely remove them or hyperconcentrate them

-once they get a garden going, they're actually bioextracting any heavy metals in the soil (of which there are certainly many due to the nearby paper mill. cadmium, arsenic... probably some POPs too but they may break down due to the actions of the plant, bioremediation isn't my speciality) and i believe there's a high likelyhood this would get into the soap, especially if they were adding shredded bits for artsy texture... like with tallow, making essential oils may clear or concentrate these things

-microplastics almost certainly

overall i'd give it a pretty strong: maybe don't rub your hands in it several times a day for an indefinite period of time

plus, if the soap is marketed as moisturizing or deodorizing or "making you smell nice" then it's considered a cosmetic, and as the FDA helpfully says:

"Neither the product nor its ingredients need approval by FDA, except for any color additives it contains. It is your responsibility to make sure your product is safe for consumers when it is used as intended, and to make sure it is properly labeled. You don’t need to register your company or file your product formulations with FDA"

this means if you say your soap is moisturizing or nice smelling, you can avoid it being regulated by the CPSC and having to do lead testing if it will be used by children!

cosmetics (which are often applied to very sensitive skin and right near mucosal membranes) have been shown more and more to have heavy metals, microplastics, and organic contaminants in them, and companies are incentivized to ensure their product is classified as such since it reduces regulation (cost).

so yeah — Tyler Durden's soap is probably bad for you. but just remember, the same rules that would allow him to sell soap made from people and filled with pollutants are those that apply to the very large companies we are forced to implicitly trust our safety with :)

[hyunip]

DISTRACTION

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https://sober!-ony-x-drunk!-plus-size-black!-reader.com//:hyunip

A/N: Cannot get this man ony out of my head and how he gets distracted by how fine you looks while you talkin’ to him. You know that part of redbone with instrumental? He think you looks like that part of the song. Ion know if that made sense to you, but if it don’t, you gonna have to make sense out of it.

[I suck at warnings, sorry]

MATERLIST[Needs to and will be updated]

————•————•————•————•————•

[T]ipsy was really the only word that could explain you right now. The only word that fit into how you felt.

Your vision was a bit blurry, and your mind felt a little scattered, like all you could think of was words and how to put them in a way. But whilst talking, it seemed you couldn’t care less about what you said to him. Letting your thoughts be free. You were only like this because you and Onyankopon’s friend group were playing a game of uno with a little twist.

If someone put down a draw four card, you’d have to do four shots and then draw your four cards. Same thing if they’re stacked—if you have to draw eight cards that’s eight shots and eight cards—so on and so forth. You weren’t sure who made that shit up, but whoever did it was a damn good idea. It was funny and loud—which may have caused a little headache—and chill too. You all had a good time. But after a few rounds you all decided to chill since Sasha—a light weight—had one too many drinks for herself. So she’d went up to your room to sleep. Whilst Connie, Mikasa, Eren, Armin, and Jean were all laid out on bean bag chairs on their phones or talking. You were all in your basement, the song redbone by Childish Gambino playing, set to a medium volume on the speaker at the back.

Ony listened to you talk, listened to you sound a little loopy as you talked to him about a dream you had of him.

“And you was chasin’ me downstairs wit the knife—I almost bust my ass on the last step” you told Ony, your eyes slowly closing and your hand moved slowly to facepalm yourself in the face as you said the last part, making Ony chuckle at how you found it so dumb. “I ain’ gon lie baby, this shit sound like one ‘uh dem horror movies you be watchin’” he laughed.

Truth be told, Ony loved when you told him about your dreams, or spoke to him about just anything. Your voice was so smooth and sexy on the regular, but when you were like this, it was just goofy and sounded loopy as hell, and he found it funny and cute. But at some times—like now—he could rarely really ever focus on what you were saying, since he always found himself stuck admiring your facial features and body and how good you looked. He admired your ass, your thick thighs—and definitely the way the quadruple in size whenever you sit down. That has him practically drooling and wishing to be held between them for the rest of his life.— you hip dips, your double D cup sized breasts, and of course that pudgy belly you had (cause be real. You can’t want a woman with a FAT DUMPY and some pretty big titties without no stomach 🙄 plus size are baddies too.)

He loved the fat under your arms and how chubby you were. But my oh my, when he catches a look at them pretty brown eyes and see that wide and beautiful smile, his heart can’t help but skip almost all the million beats. He may not show it, but when he sees how good you look everyday, he try his best to find the words to speak. Always silent at first glance.

He was leaned back against the couch, his arms falling on his thighs as he sat manspread beside you, staring at your well done makeup. The little eyeliner wing making an illusion of slim siren eyes with a lit red tint under your eyes, and mink lashes perfectly placed on your lash line. The look with your outfit made him want to get on his knees and start slurping you up and eating you like the last dinner he will ever have. You were just too sexy, and he could always gas himself up about how bagged himself the baddest woman in his eyes.

“You listening?” Your voice was low and interrupted by a small hiccup after drinking a few sips of a cup of soda sitting on the small round table in front of you both. His thoughts were interrupted by that, bringing him back to reality.

When he focused back onto your words and was able to give your entire being a final analyzation, he heard the best part of redbone begin to play, making the moment even better for him.

Ony nodded at your question before you moaned in satisfaction as to what your ears were hearing right now, standing to start dancing to your favorite part of the song, vocalizing with it under your breath. As you got up, so did Mikasa and Connie, all of you vibing out to the music and singing along with each other. Ony couldn’t do anything but sit back and watch you enjoy yourself and feel good.

Best believe he could NOT wait to get you home and love and touch all up on you…

————•————•————•————•————•

And that, Ladies and Gentleman, was DISTRACTION by HYUNIP!

[suckerforcate]

Hey!! How are you doing? Okay, so since you're an educator, could you write a college!Larissa x fem!reader friends to lovers?

Reader is a politics major and they become friends over their shared interest in education. They get really close and something small (maybe Reader helping Larissa do her makeup in the classic wlw picture) makes her realize she's not so straight. Since we're thinking 1990s, being a sapphic politician wouldnt be so acceptable so Reader decides to change her college so she doesn't need to ruin their friendship but also keeps herself away from the "temptation". They eventually lose touch, but years later they meet in a Education Leadership Conference (or something like that) and Reader invites Larissa to work on some new law or campaign fully believing she's over her crush.

Except she's not. And adult!Larissa is slowly falling for Reader and her dedication to the education of outcasts and... idk, rights on children halthcare.

College Sweetheart

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Reader

Word Count: 2049

Warning: none (?)

A/n: I really like this actually, I hope you do too!! I'm sorry that I've been rather quiet today, I've spend the day with my best friend and didn't have so much time to write due to that. <3

You were straight. That was something you had been sure of your whole life. But right now, sitting in front of Larissa, you weren't so sure anymore.

The two of you had met in college and immediately hit it off. She was kind of your best friend by now. Your major was politics with a focus on educational law and Larissa's major was education. So your shared interest of the matter had brought you closer together. You had spent most of your free time together, even if it was just quietly learning together.

Of course, you had noticed that you felt happier anytime you were near her. Your heart seemed to explode, and you did get a little nervous. But that was normal, wasn't it? At least that were things you could ignore. But the latest incident couldn't be ignored. It was clear that you felt something for her, even though it was a little hard to grasp as you had been sure that you were straight. Apparently you weren't.

Larissa and you had decided to do a sleepover. A typical "girls night", watching movies, cooking together, laughing a lot and doing each others make up. The latter was the problem. While doing someone's makeup you get very, very close to them. And suddenly you got the undeniable urge to kiss her. Not in a funny way, like friends sometimes do. In a real, romantic way. The urge was so overwhelming that you had to stop applying her mascara for a second and pull yourself together. Thankfully, Larissa didn't seem to notice.

After this evening it got harder and harder to ignore what you felt for her. Suddenly you were much more aware of all the things you had already felt before. She was on your mind constantly and besides having a hard time concentrating most if the time, you were really scared. Scared of what she'd think and also scared, that if you'd ever act on the matter and somehow people would find out that you weren't actually straight, your career in politics would find an end before it had even started.

It took you a while to make the decision, it certainly wasn't an easy one. But it was the right one. And sometimes, making the right decision hurts.

You choose to change college. You needed to get away from Larissa, you wanted to be friends with her. Your friendship was very dear to you, she was after all your best friend. Larissa was devastated when you told her, you had made up some stupid lie. The focus on education was better there. It would be helpful and important for your career, you would be an expert in the matter. She believed it, of course she did. You were a good liar, you had always been. The farewell was horror, you cried. Both. But as you got in the car and Larissa was out of sight, you started to sob. A gut-wrenching, ugly sobbing. The tears blocking your vision so much you had to drive to the side of the road.

You tried to hold contact in the following weeks, calling and writing whenever there was time. The problem was, there was hardly any time. Your schedules couldn't have been any more different. And so, with time, you lost each other more and more. Until your friendship was merely a memory, coming to mind at times.

----------------------

"Shit!" You exclaimed as you tripped on the stairs. It had been a horrible day, everything seemed to go sideways. You had overslept, leaving you with six incredibly short minutes to get ready. But you had taken immoderate thirteen minutes, which is why your colleague had decided to just drive without you. That had led to you having to take the bus. Which was a horrible experience, as always. It was rush hour, you can imagine the situation inside of the bus. And now you tripped on the last stair on your way to the conference room.

Today was the Education Leadership Conference and you had a whole speech prepared on why schools for outcasts should be supported more. But it would be hard presenting that speech with some broken bones.

Thankfully, you didn't fall down. You felt arms around you, right before you would have hit the ground. The arms held you and lifted you back to your feet.

"Thank you very much, I real-" you didn't go on, because at that moment you realised who stood in front of you.

"Larissa?" You looked up to her, she looked exactly the same. Her signature red lipstick, the silver hair up in a beautiful hairdo and eyes blue like the ocean.

"(Y/n), what are you doing here?"

"Well I could ask you the same thing, I'm a politician. Focus on educational matters. Just how I always wanted it to be." You smirked, proud of what you had achieved.

"Well I'm the Principle of Nevermore Academy. The school for outcasts that I went to. And I am here to represent us in the educational system." You just wanted to tell her that you had a speech for that matter exactly, but you were interrupted by someone telling you two to please get in as the conference was about to start. So you went in and sat down together.

After a few hours the topic came to outcasts and the man leading the conference, bid you to the front. Larissa's eyes widened as she realised what your speech would be about.

Dear Ladies and Gentlemen,

First of all, I want to start by saying: thank you. Thank you for giving me the honour of talking in front of you today. Education is a matter that has always been important to me, but the education of outcasts is particularly close to my heart. And before you wonder, No, I'm not an outcast. But that doesn't mean, that I can't support them and their rights.

I believe that the way Outcasts are treated is outrageous. Just the name Outcasts is a scandal as itself. It tempts us to believe that a life together, all as one, isn't possible. That, under all circumstances, we should live like two different species. Romantic connections between them and "Normies", as we are being called, are frowned-upon. And I can't help myself, thinking back to the LGBTQ+ rights movement. Haven't we learned anything from that?

These people are born like this, it's what they are. And they need to receive proper education. It is unbelievable that the politics like to completely overlook this. And in addition to that I believe, that everyone should be educated on this matter. Because, you won't believe me Ladies and Gentlemen, but Outcasts aren't as rare as you might think. And to ensure a safe, and tolerant life together, education is essential.

Your speech went on for a little longer and as you sat down next to Larissa again you saw that she couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the conference.

"Would you like to grab a drink afterwards?" Larissa slid a piece of paper over to you. In neat handwriting you wrote: "I'd like that, very much."

So after the conference, Larissa and you left together. You showed her a little, quiet bar just around the corner.

"I- What you said in there, your speech. It really moved me." Larissa looked at you, close to tears.

"The kids, my students, they mean everything to me. And it makes me so incredibly angry that we are so overlooked by the politics. It's nice to see a Normie care so much." You put your hand on hers and smiled lovingly at her.

The evening felt like a haze, you talked for hours. Catching up on everything that happened, but with every second that you looked at Larissa, with every word she said, you came to realise that you were in love with this woman. And in fact you had been for nearly twenty years. This wasn't the slight crush you remembered, you loved her. There was no denying it. And suddenly your whole life made sense. You understood why you had never been able to really settle down with someone, to really feel pure and deep love for anyone.

This time though, you didn't cut contact with Larissa. After the conference she went back to Vermont and you kept in touch. Regularly you chatted and Larissa invited you to come visit Nevermore for Spring Break. You could have also come in-between holidays, but Larissa told you she wanted to have time for you. If the students were there that wouldn't be the case. Still you decided to stay longer than spring break, you were eager to meet some students and maybe even talk to them.

---------------

You arrived at the train station in Jericho as it was already dark. The station was rather empty except for a few people who left the train together with you. It was easy to find Larissa. She was tall and there weren't a lot of people to block your vision.

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw her. You wanted to run to her, embrace and kiss her. You had missed her so much. But you knew how inappropriate that was, so you settled for a slight welcome hug. She guided you to her car, and you drove to the Academy.

It had something peaceful and calming to it, sitting in the car embraced by darkness. Looking at Larissa, face nearly unrecognisable but beautiful in the mild light of the street lamps. You could have kept driving on and on for hours. Just the two of you.

-----------------------

The first few days, Larissa showed you around the school and Jericho. It was a flight spending so much time with her, but you weren't just her for fun.

You had brought some files and documents on the campaign about additional support for outcasts and their education. You really wanted Larissa's opinion and help on them.

So for the next week, the two of you spend a lot of time in the library and in Larissa's office. Hoovering over tons of books and files, researching the history and evolution of outcasts and how they were perceived in society. You definitely bonded even more over the work and Larissa found herself enchanted by you. Your dedication to the matter made her heart swell and moved her immensely. She fell for you, deeply. And even though she hadn't planed on sharing that with you, life sometimes makes different decisions.

----------------------

It was late already but the two of you were still in the library, quietly sitting next to each other reading through some books. Larissa turned around in her chair a little, bumping her long leg against yours. Fast she put a hand onto your thigh, right where her knee had hit you.

"I'm sorry, love." The pet names were as normal for her as breathing and still the made your heart stop every time. You grabbed her hand, looking up at her.

"No worries!" You wanted to go back to your book, but she didn't let go of your hand and as you looked up you realised she was staring at you.

"What's wrong?" And before she could think about it, it had slipped out.

"I think I love you." She threw her hand onto her mouth, as if that would get the words back inside. Her eyes widened in regret. Slowly you put the book from your lap onto the table and got closer to her.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/n). I shouldn't have said that." You gently took her hand in yours, trying to calm her.

"Why, I think it's wonderful." She looked confused, rejection was what she had expected. Not acceptance, and most of all she didn't expect you to return the feelings.

"Well, I've had a crush on you since college. Even though I've realised as I met you again, it was so much more than a crush. I love you, Larissa." Larissa looked extremely cute when speechless, her cheeks were burning red, and you felt goosebumps on her skin as you leant in for a kiss.

Maybe leaving hadn't been easy twenty years ago. But if it leads to this, you would always do it again.

[sweetfirebird]

okay I stewed on it and I know it's a Stephen King miniseries from the 90s so who cares but having watched two King miniseries from the 90s this week (and who once watched The Mist as well), they have the same flaws but in Storm of the Century, the flaws are especially obvious and I need rant about it on the internet for a second. This is a mess of thoughts and I don't care.

I am going to ignore how the danger of the storm changed from moment to moment depending on what was convenient for the action. And I am also going to assume that a lot of the costuming and makeup decisions were a matter of budget and not character hints or anything. I know this production was not that deep. I know that.

That said (whew boy), this story does that thing that some King stories do where they are structured like a mystery (in fact, SotC and Rose Red are both set up like that, and a closed circle mystery at that). So there is horror but the mystery conventions are front and center--until the end, when King abandons them, and you, completely. Something that probably worked more in a 90s tv miniseries format where it was unlikely that people would rewatch it, or watch it all at once with other miniseries, so the issues would be less glaring.

Anyway. So because it's set up like a mystery, your brain is looking for clues like it's a mystery--and you are apparently given clues. Which is why the endings feel especially stupid and meaningless because all indications were that the ending and big reveal was going to matter!!

But then, JJ Abrams surprise! the endings do not matter and none of the clues mattered or were even really clues! And you feel stupid for thinking they were!! You fucking idiot, expecting competent writing!

This is slightly less the case with Rose Red, but it's still evident there. All the showy bits, all the references, all the details that seemed relevant because the story focused on them? Just window dressing to make the story seem deeper and/or cooler than it actually was.

Let's talk SotC because this set up several possibilities for the identity of the big bad and then it never really answered them.

Since part of his identity was his undefined threat hanging over the townspeople for most of the series, one would assume his threat was meant as a clue, right? And that all conversations about him and his threat were then also clues, right?

Wrong. None of it was relevant. He is just a bad demon guy or something and incidentally implies Christian Hell might be real but don't worry about it. Also he dresses like a wizard. A stupid wizard. Now, again, because every single story element has been about this guy and his motives, you would think this identity issue would be resolved. But no.

And then we get into the things specifically mentioned regarding this guy and how actual good storytelling would have used them better.

For example

In the beginning, the camera lingers on a sign for a daycare that is called "Wee Folk" so oh okay, are the fae involved?

no. red herring in the mystery that King had no interest in resolving. Because it's not a mystery it's a horror story. It's just written like a mystery until the end so shut up.

Then we get a Biblical story about Legion, so oh ok, is this about that?

Never mentioned again don't worry about it.

Hell is mentioned and he's called the Devil more than once, though he says he isn't. (Though the Devil would lie, I suppose, but would he dress like a stupid wizard?)

Roanoke gets mentioned, several times, in the corniest aspect of the whole thing, and is also never resolved but I guess the implication is that the people of Roanoke chose not to listen to the weird random bad guy who showed up there. And this is just a thing he does sometimes every few hundred years even though from what else he says, it sounds like there is a time limit, and also why wouldn't he try it elsewhere in the meantime? Fuck you for asking! This isn't a mystery, it's a horror! Just because it's structured like a mystery doesn't mean anything! Pay no attention to the man behind the c--

And then, and this one is the most egregious to me because it shows how little thought went into this story--they mention the Book of Job. I'm not going to explain Job here but that is.... not a book that I think should be brought up lightly if you are exploring why bad things happen to good people and/or asking where god is during dark times. (you heard me, season two of Good Omens, I said what I said). But if you are going to bring it up in a story like this... then you'd better fucking address it. It's not just a "clue" in the mystery that never was, it's fucking thematically relevant!!! Writing 101! What the actual fuck, Stephen King?

idk what Methodists in small-town Maine think of the Book of Job or the Old Testament in general, but how this book is perceived and interpreted by Methodists/Christians feels like an issue worth exploring in a story about god leaving you to suffer and taking your children. What would you expect the "good" Methodists on this island to think and do.

The Book of Job discussion also again sets up the idea that this entire thing is part of a divine plan or test. But I guess it wasn't!!! What kind of idiot would think it mattered just because they kept mentioning it! And showing shots of the small town buildings with quotes about god and faith on them!!!!???? You must be really stupid if you think any of that was important! Scary monster man! Wizard clothes! Sharp teeth! grrr!

Okay. OKAY and then, related to that subject. Outside of this movie, in like, faith circles, there is talk about possessions and angelic or demonic visitations are about how the possession (or visitation) is not really about the person it's happening to. It's about someone else. Or several others. It's about showing them something or testing them. And on this fucking island in this story, we are shown one person who is consistently mentioned as trying to be good, and to see the good in others. Despite all the crap around him. When horrible secrets are exposed, his worst secret is cheating on a test one time for something that wasn't even his major.

So clearly that is important too, right? This is maybe some Old Testament-esque test for the town, or for him, or the bad stupid wizard demon man is here to torment and test this guy specifically, right?

no.

he's just here to be evil, and dress like a wizard, and then leave, the end. and the good guy is like a little sad at the end but moves and gets a new job and I guess that is supposed to be some sort of Job thing? But then also no and everyone mostly on, the end.

And it was corny. Did I mention it was corny? Colm Feore tried though. The second they mentioned Roanoke, I groaned out loud. The constant CONSTANT use of children's rhymes to indicate scary things will happen? the nonsense couplets about sin???? implying he isn't evil maybe but instead a more Old Testament way of punishing sinners? Just there to sound cool. Ultimately meaningless. Fuck you again.

Oh and it definitely felt stretched. It got repetitive real fast, which--surprise! also felt like it was on purpose at first because the villain said outright, "Hell is repetition."

But it wasn't on purpose. It was just padding the run time.

I will stop now. This isn't even really a review. I just was not expecting to say, "This is so fucking stupid" out loud as many times as I did while watching this.

[courtofmatchups]

First of all, I apologize for my slightly weird English, google translate helps me to read what you guys post on Tumblr.

Could I get a matchup for Tokyo Debunker?

Pronouns: She/her Sexuality: Bisexual Zodiac/MBTI: Sagittarius, INTJ Appearance: Short curly dark brown hair. Dark skin, freckles on cheeks. I'm 1.65m tall, slim body, small bust and butt and wide waist. Brown eyes, slightly round nose, thin eyebrows and medium-sized lips. Personality: Introverted, occasionally moody, but when I get confident I'm playful/a bit childish and my social battery runs out very quickly. My sense of humor is broken, it's easy to make me laugh. I'm stubborn, I always try to avoid unnecessary conflicts. Sometimes I tend to procrastinate, I don't like asking others for favors/help, even less if I'm capable of getting it/doing it myself. Surprise displays of affection make me tense.

Likes and dislikes: I like desserts; watching movies, mainly horror/thriller/romantic comedy; I enjoy interactive stories and otomes; I like watching videos of people putting on/taking off makeup, trying on clothes and giving reviews, about hair and skin care products… Oh, I also like braiding. I don't like insects; noisy places; disloyal people, liars, and people who don't value their friends; alcoholic drinks and similar substances; I don't like spicy food. I don't like being helped without asking for it first, nor do I like being told that I'm not capable of doing something (the only person who decides whether I'm capable or not is myself). Hobbies: Listening to music, watching anime, playing cell phone games, lately I'm learning crochet, so I think I'd add that as a hobby too.

Extra information: I am agnostic; I'm not a big fan of physical contact, in any case, I prefer to be the one who initiates the contact and that it doesn't last so long; I think head caresses are very cute; I like to give gifts to my loved ones; I'm somewhat disorganized for some things and organized for others, I think it depends on my mood and motivation how organized I can be; if someone yells at me I get angry easily; according to the MBTI internet test I'm INTJ and to this day I still don't feel identified with the result; I don't know if it affects the answer in any way, but I'm from Latin America, although I don't fit the stereotype at all, I'll just say that there is no worse dancer than me LOL. People say I'm a delicate and laid-back person when I'm in a good mood, and somewhat sarcastic and passive-aggressive when I'm in a bad mood.

Thank you very much in advance, kisses and hugs.

It seems to me, you've capture the heart of...

Kaito Fuji!

Let's be real, he'd be down bad for you the minute you're in his vicinity, but if you give him a chance, you will not regret it.

Hear me out: even if he is a lot more energetic than you, he's still super attentive, so if you ever feel uncomfortable, he'll pull you aside for a breather. He will tease you about your broken humour, but he will also laugh at stupid things with you. And you'll also have to tell him about the things that make you uncomfortable, he will respect that.

Your likes align with his quite well. When you tell him you like sweets, he'll make you all the best treats he can make. And if you crochet him a sweater, or a plushie, he will burst into tears. Kaito puts a lot of work into his looks, and you learning about fashion and skincare through videos could really help him also. He'd absolutely love if you'd pick out an outfit for him.

As for your dislikes, he understands your discomfort with these things, though I can't guarantee he'll be able to fully overcome his own fear of insects for you. And he will apologize for involving you in some crazy plot to escape Romeo's wrath, especially since he had to lie in the process. He will try though to overcome his fears and anxiety. He doesn't mind you needing to initiate the physical touch or things of the sort. Even if he has read in magazines that girls would rather the guy initiate it, he'd rather the tables be turned on him. Heck, he'd be over the moon.

Overall, your calmer nature can balance out his more excitable and anxious energy, making for a well-rounded dynamic.

[taocc-updates]

The Fruit of the Spirit is Not A Lemonade - Character Post

Name: Lemonade Gender: Male, He/Him Species: Fae, Human Origin Titles: Moderator (Antiquity), Artificer. Powers: Control of nature, shapeshifting Skills and other notes: Deaf in one ear, doesn’t like people knowing details about him. “Lemonade” is not his real name. Good at singing, cooking, and potion-making. Something of a polymath, but hates math. Friends: Neb, Minimi, Void(?), Cardlan, Kade Partner: Dark Ex: Reverie Mod: @the-moth-from-elsewhere Art Credit: Elsewhere

Name: Neb Gender: Non-binary (They/them) Species: Liminal Being, Human Origin Titles: None Powers: Eldritch horror stuff, unspecified Skills and other notes: Can use antennae to sense air vibrations. Can no-clip. Lives in the liminal spaces. Being chased around by a weird “entity”. Friends: Cardlan, Lemonade, Alpenglow(?) Enemies: “The Entity” “It’s complicated”: Kopi Mod: @mod-autumn Art Credit: Autumn

Name: Cardlan Gender: Female (She/her) Species: Card Lady, AI Titles: The Card Lady, Moderator AI (Solitaire) Powers: The cards do various magical things. She has similar reality-warping powers to Caine. Skills and other notes: Very egotistical. Her sexuality is listed as “the mirror.” Very good at DDR. Friends: Lemonade, Neb Incredibly one sided rivalry: Kade Mod: @feiar (formerly @/modjoof / @/joofie404) Art credit: @/joofie404

Name: “Dark” Gender: Female (she/her) Species: Ink Being, AI Titles: None Powers: powerful, but these powers are mostly unspecified other than minor shapeshifting, levitation, and summoning pastries. Skills and other notes: Good at singing. Very clingy. Wracked with guilt from some event in her past. Partner: Lemonade Brother: Void Mod: @blepxiee Art credit: @/blepxiee

Name: “Void” Gender: Unspecified (he/any) Species: Ink being, AI Titles: None Powers: Same as Dark. Skills and other notes: Good with makeup, flamboyant. Holds a grudge against his sister. His real name is (presumed to be) Oliver. Friends: Neb, Lemonade Sister: Dark Mod: @/blepxiee

Name: Minimi Gender: Female(?) (she/they) Species: Mime(?), Human Origin Titles: None Powers: Unknown, minor telepathy Skills and other notes: A very minor character, but has a lot of lore. Spent a long time abstracted in the cellar. Friends: Lemonade “It’s complicated”: Cardlan Mod: @modjoof (subject to change in the near future) Art credit: Joofie, Elsewhere (respectively)

— — —

Name: Lady Reverie Gender: Female (she/her) Species: Fae, Human Origin Titles: Moderator (Antiquity), Guidance Anon Powers: Control of nature, shapeshifting, skilled at lie detection, otherwise unspecified. Skills and other notes: Mostly amnesiac, constant nightmares, Has been almost everywhere in the digital worlds. Loves to ramble. Her favorite food is peaches. Partner: Sophronius Enemies: Acacius Mod: Elsewhere Art Credit: Elsewhere

Name: Sophronius Gender: Male (he/him) Species: Centaur, Embodiment of Reason, AI Titles: Voice of Reason, Reason anon, Certified Gentleman (TM) Powers: Omnipresence, telepathy, more but unspecified. Skills and other notes: Impeccable manners, likes peaches and macarons, just a bit socially inept Partner: Reverie Friends: Mix, Silhouette(?) Enemies: Acacius Mod: @fields-of-lilies-are-pretty Art credit: Lily, Blepxiee

Name: Acacius Gender: Male (i think?) Species: Embodiment of Irrationality Titles: Voice of Ignorance Powers: Possession, constant shapeshifting, being the freaking worst Skills and other notes: Has no consistent physical form. Likes to be a crow. Certified biscuit. Enemies: Sophro, everyone Mod: Lily Art credit: Lily

[burritoreviewsstuff]

So I watched Oppenheimer

Disclaimer: I am writing this review and analysis as an independent critic and am not sponsored in any means by any major film corporation.

Never before have I expected a biopic turn into a psychological horror film in its third act. There were no winners in this movie and it was overall dramatized to distinguish fact from fiction.

Not gonna lie, I hardly knew anything about the details of the Manhattan Project or who Oppenheimer even was before watching this. Probably because they never taught us this part of history or I just forgot.

I’ve been doing some research over the past couple of hours since watching the film. That is, I watched ‘The Day After Trinity’ and read through some Wikipedia articles. This movie is so beautifully that I refused to believe that a good chunk of it was based on real history because of how the story was told to make it look like we should feel sorry for what Oppie went through (YES I REALIZED THAT THEY NAMED THE MARS ROVER AFTER THIS GUY HALFWAY THROUGH THE FILM. SUE ME). I don’t feel empathetic for what these scientists did. They wanted to play God and played God they did.

From what I could find, mostly everything in the film DID happen to some extent. The only thing that stuck out to me (plot-wise) is Oppie’s relationship with Niels Bohr not being as structured in the film as it was in real life. I think they meant to Max Born at the beginning of the film, but it is true that Bohr did eventually ended up working on the Manhattan Project (though the movie tells us that Bohr left Los Alamos fairly quickly after his escape from Copenhagen). The other being that they left out the feeling at Los Alamos during the scene before the realization of sheer horror of what they had done should have been ‘thank god it wasn’t a dud’ - actual testimony from Frank Oppenheimer.

Other than that, from what testimonies I heard and what I have read, a LOT of the movie is fairly accurate to how events played out over a period of time between the 1920’s all the way up to 1958 during Lewis Strauss’s Secretary of Commerce hearing. Even small details like Oppie’s hat and even most of the actors looking nearly identical to their real-life counterparts during the time the movie happened was really well done.

I give a standing ovation to the costume and makeup departments and artists who worked on this film because if Einstein’s look was all done by hand with no CGI involved, I would have thought the man himself rose from his grave just to star in this film.

And all the actors did a fantastic job playing their roles. Gillian Murphy as Oppenheimer was fantastic and brought a sense of humanity to the role. Robert Downey Jr had me do a double take because this is one of his first movies post-MCU (I initially thought it was his first but then I completely forgot that trash fire of a movie that was Dolittle that my mother and I went to see and I’m glad after three years I have forgotten about that dumpster fire) and is it very refreshing to see what he is capable of now that he doesn’t have to be Tony Stark 24/7 since he is free from the reigns of Disney. It was seriously satisfying for him to be able to drop the F-Bomb. The quipiness of his acting is subdued in this film, but Stark left some scars on the way he acts and it still kind of peeks through during certain scenes. Also, to finally have him be in a more villainous role was a good change up for his acting career (if this movie had a true villain, it would be Strauss since he resented Oppenheimer IRL, not sure if it was simply because of berating during a hearing about isotopes, but he hated the man’a guts to slander him as a Commie due to the people he associated with and his “left-wing views��).

Another thing that I did not understand is why did the hearing scene have to be in black and white while the rest of the scenes were in color. And I want to know why people kept putting marbles into those jars.

I can’t complain too much, because as jam-packed this story already is at 3 hours, if every little detail was put on the screen, Oppenheimer would have longer than the Director’s Cut of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. And I know Critikal said that this movie flew by despite its run time, but I disagree. It was very fast paced until the climax of the movie, that being the bomb drop. It was there that the movie started to crawl a bit because it is here that the results of both hearings (the one taking place in 1954 and the other in 1958) are coming to a close and they are trying to squeeze in any remaining characters that are relevant to the plot their final time to shine before the movie ends.

Overall, this movie is a solid 8.5/10.

[fallenasleepyetagain]

Dating - Goth/Paperjam Fic

Prompt: “No, I’m not dating your brother.”

Prompt from: @yearoftheotpevent

Media: UTMV/Undertale AU’s

Genres: Human AU, fluff, getting into a relationship, awkward teenager fluff, just nerds being nerds, ship kids, basically an AU where I shove as many children into one multiverse as possible

Characters: Paperjam, Goth, Palette (mentioned), Radier (mentioned), Raven (mentioned), Shino (mentioned), Lux (mentioned), Reaper (mentioned), Goth (mentioned), Ink (mentioned), Error (mentioned), Blue (mentioned), Dream (mentioned)

CW/TW - Minor mentions of body horror

Notes: Paperjam uses they/them in this fic because I said so <3

Word Count: 2657

“You know, you’re kinda cruel Goth.”

The sentence came out of nowhere and Goth was startled by it. Who wouldn’t be? They had just been walking in a comfortable silence, not needing to talk. It was just nice to be with each other. The weather was nice too. It was early spring, not too cold, but not sweltering either. Plants were beginning to bloom and Goth thought it looked like a scene in a slice-of-life anime. Although he supposed that the person he was walking with disagreed with him. They hung out frequently, and both shared the same dry humor and Goth half wondered if what was said was a joke. 

“W-What?” Goth sputtered with a light chuckle, unsure of what Paperjam had meant. Paperjam was always dry and cold, only ever showing their anger and annoyance. They smiled occasionally, usually when Goth made some sort of dark joke. So when Goth looked over to try and get a sense of what Paperjam was feeling, he got nothing. Their multi-colored eyes were looking away, taking in the scenery of the park the pair were walking in. Goth had to admit that he loved looking at Paperjam, they had such a spunky and unique style that just captivated the eyes. Today, their outfit was relatively simple, it being a little chilly and all. Goth liked it though, it made the eye-makeup they were wearing pop. Paperjam was cool, and Goth considered himself lucky to be their friend.

“You can be real cruel with the hearts of men, Goth.” They replied, as if that would help ease any of Goth’s confusion.

“What are you, um, talking about?” Goth swallowed hard before whispering, “Are you mad at me?”

“Mad at you?” Paperjam laughed, it was dry, although it was what Goth was used to, “Nah. Not really. I just think it’s funny. Especially how you’re blissfully unaware of what you’re doing.”

This was weird and Goth was very lost. The hearts of men? Surely Paperjam was talking about themself, but Goth wasn’t cruel with anyone’s heart! At least, not intentionally? He racked his brain, trying to find something, anything, that made this make sense. Of course, Paperjam’s face gave nothing away. Their expression could be considered stoic. Although Goth knew that they had a resting bitch face, if you will. Goth took relief in knowing that they weren’t mad at him, that was what he was mostly worried about.

“Unaware of what! PJ, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Honest.”

“I figured.” Paperjam shifted in their blue jacket, taking their hands out of their pockets to cross their arms. With that posture, they looked even more upset than before. Though, they did walk a bit faster than before. Goth had to quicken his own pace to catch up. If their face was in a scowl, then even Goth would be unable to tell. Their face was neutral. Or, as neutral as Paperjam could get. They were perpetually salty, much like both of their dads. “You couldn’t lie to save your life, Gothy.”

“Then could you tell me what’s up? I don’t mean to be cruel…” Goth hushed his voice to a whisper, hands fidgeting nervously. “Especially not to you!”

“It was kinda dickish of me to just say that huh?” Paperjam scoffed, a smile dancing their lips for a moment. “Sorry.” They scratched the back of their neck awkwardly, pulling their small ponytail over their shoulder and messing with it. They didn’t apologize often, and never to a select few people, and Goth felt a little special every time they did to him.

“I just mean that it's funny. I mean, with you dating my half-bro and all, and then spending basically all the time you have with me when you come over. You ‘oughta let him down easy.” 

There was a beat and Goth had to stop entirely to comprehend what he just heard. Him? Dating someone? Since when?! Did he hear that correctly? Not to mention Paperjam though he was dating one of their half-brothers? Which one? They had like twelve! Almost immediately Goth’s mind went racing as to who Paperjam could be talking about. It was obviously someone on the Ink side, since they didn’t live in Nightmare’s castle, and Goth only ever visited the Star Squad house. Though that didn’t really cut down the list, only dropping Radier and Goth didn’t want to touch him with a ten foot pole. Much less accidently date him!

Goth gave it a few more moments of thought before gasping. There was only a limited number of people who fit the description that Paperjam gave and once Goth thought it through a bit more, it became obvious as to who Paperjam thought he was dating. And he also realized that Paperjam hadn’t stopped walking.

“H-Hey! Paperjam! Wait up!” Goth called out, jogging a little to catch up to Paperjam who had gotten surprisingly far?!

Of course, Paperjam didn’t stop moving. Although they did turn around, raising one of their eyebrows at him. They continued to walk backwards with a confidence that made Goth worry. He didn’t want them to run into a tree or some kind of foliage, or get hit by someone not paying attention while driving or riding their bike! Maybe Goth was just being a little overly anxious, it was really only them in the park. 

“Jeez,” Goth huffed, catching up to Paperjam. “How do you walk so fast?”

“You’re such a dramatic Goth. I wasn’t even that far away from you.”

“I’m not dramatic! I think I’m pretty easy to get along with…”

“Oh, you totally are. But you’re also dramatic as hell. It makes you fun to talk to.”

Goth’s cheeks flushed, and he hid away in the red scarf around his neck. Paperjam turned, ponytail swinging as they did so, and the two were walking side to side once again. Their hands rested in their pockets and Goth took a second.

“Paperjam?”

“Yeah?”

“You realize I’m not dating anyone…right?”

“What? Of course you are.”

“No…um, I’m not dating your brother. Any brother of yours.”

With the most incredulous look on their face, Paperjam turned to him. “Really?”

“Yes!” Goth was exasperated, unsure of why they even thought that he was dating someone. “Did…Palette say something to you?”

Almost immediately, Paperjam went tense. Goth flinched slightly. They looked like Error when they did that. Although he’d never tell them that. They crossed their arms, an intense scowl crawling over their face. Palette. Ink’s golden boy and one of Paperjam’s half-brothers. He was a good kid, usually. And they were pissed that he had lied. Maybe he was jealous, but they didn’t care. They weren’t particularly interested in his thought process. They were interested in how they’d get back at him. Paperjam was the eldest in the Star Squad house, being second only to Lux, who was a year older than them. It was their responsibility to get back at their little brother’s when those hooligans did something stupid. Palette had sealed his fate.

“Yeah. He did.”

“What?! Why? That doesn’t sound like him.”

Paperjam’s body shifted as the two talked, relaxing, although not unfolding their arms. “He was probably jealous and lied to me because he’s a bitchless loser.”

“Jealous? Like, of us? Oh jeez, maybe I should talk to him…”

“Nah, no need. He’ll get over it.”

“Get over what?”

“You.”

“ME?!”

Everything that came out of Paperjam’s mouth continued to slam into Goth like a semi-truck. Admittedly, Goth struggled when it came to romantic intentions, so it was very possible that Palette had been showing signs of liking him that he didn’t pick up on.

“I think that I should definitely talk to him then! I hope he doesn’t think that I’ve been leading him on or something.”

“I don’t think he does, so don’t worry about it.” Paperjam paused for a second, choosing their words carefully, “Does that mean that you don’t like him back?”

“W-Well…I think Palette is nice and all. He’s a great friend, y’know?”

Paperjam rolled their eyes dramatically. Goth tried to pay no mind to it, it was just siblings being siblings. He knew that well enough, being the middle child out of three. Sometimes when they talked about Palette and their other siblings, it reminded him of when Raven talked about him and Shino to Blueprint. Though Raven was always nicer than Paperjam. 

“But um, I don’t see him romantically?” Goth wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. He didn’t talk about his feelings very often, much less romantic feelings! He didn’t even talk about that to his siblings, and he told them just about everything. And Goth did not want to be asked the question that always came after admitting that he didn’t like a particular person. But, maybe, this time would be different! Paperjam was cool and like no one else Goth had ever met! Maybe they wouldn’t ask that dreaded question!

“Yeah no, I gathered that. I don’t see why anyone would see him romantically.” Goth’s heart swelled, this was going well. “Do you like anyone at the moment? Just curious.”

Curses!!!

Even Paperjam couldn’t not ask the question. It was just ingrained in people, he supposed.

Goth definitely did not want to answer that. He nearly choked on air when Paperjam asked. He put a fist up to his mouth, fake coughing into it. It didn’t seem to bother them though. They walked straight ahead, just waiting for Goth to answer.

“Um. Maybe?”

“Maybe?” Paperjam laughed, slowing down slightly so they and Goth were walking at the same pace. The pair walked a few spaces before they wrapped their hand around his shoulders and Goth’s face exploded, cheeks flushing. “We’re buddies, Goth. You can tell me.”

They were so close to him, his cheek basically touching theirs. He could see how their yellow, orange, and pink birthmarks shifted to the brown of their skin. And their mismatched, multicolored eyes, that were pink! He hadn’t realized how magenta their eyes really were until then. They just had so many features that he hadn’t seen before. Also their makeup was much shinier than he first thought! The pink eyeshadow on their eyelids had a slight shimmer to it.

“UM.”

“Goth. I’m not gonna like, make fun of you or something. Unless it’s someone I don’t like, then maybe I’ll be judgemental.” Paperjam laughed, and started walking again, arm still hanging around Goth’s shoulders.

“It’s uh, a secret?”

“Is it me?”

Truly, it was such a shame that Goth was so very, very, terrible at hiding anything on his face. He never told his feelings out loud, but his face was like an open book. Any surprise, anger, happiness, sadness, any feeling he felt was written across his face in the cleanest handwriting known to man. So when Paperjam asked that, despite the clear joking tone in their voice, his face gave it away. That is not how he wanted any of this to go! Oh god, what if Paperjam felt uncomfortable, or didn’t want to be friends anymore, or hated him or-?!

“You’re such a dork, Goth.”

“Huh?! “You’re a fucking loser!” Paperjam laughed, running their hand through Goth’s coily hair. It was as if they were giving him a gentle noogie. Did Paperjam give their brothers noogies? That sounded totally in character for them actually. “A lovesick nerd with very, very, poor taste in romantic interests. But that’s ok. ‘Cuz you’re cute.”

Was Goth hearing that right? Did Paperjam, someone who he had grown to be very close friends with, and gain a little bit of a crush on, call him cute? He was a little astonished, to be completely honest. Goth never thought that cute could be used as a descriptor for him. That was something you called cats or dogs, or bees! Someone could even call a house cute! But not Goth. He didn’t think so, anyway. He could try and change Paperjam’s mind about that but that would just be fruitless. He knew from experience that their mind was not easily changed. He liked that about them. Their conviction to their beliefs was something he admired.

“You…think I’m cute?” Goth asked, just to confirm what he had heard. He hid away in his scarf, pulling it over his nose.

“Yes, Goth. Jeez.” And there it was! The obligatory Paperjam eye roll. Goth saw it coming from a mile away.

The two walked some more, Paperjam’s arm still slung over his shoulders. He questioned for a moment how that was even possible. He was the only sibling in his family who actually inherited Reaper’s deathly touch. Anyone could tell by the holes in his hands, his dark skin sinking into it. It was…gross. It was the bone that was missing, but the muscle and skin was still there. He could touch his family of course, but outside of his home? No way! He had to be careful. And yet, Paperjam always made a point of gently nudging him or touching him briefly. Admittedly, Goth didn’t know a lot about their family. If being related to Ink or Error allowed someone to be immortal was something he wasn’t sure. That had to be the case! Since Paperjam wasn’t dead where they stood!

Once, they grabbed his hand and poked the skin in the center of his hand. It had startled him, since people tended to be freaked out by it. But they weren’t. In their own words, they had said that it was “fucking sick” with a grin on their face. They weren’t ever freaked out by him. Maybe that's why he liked them so much.

With his hand, he messed with his scarf. Still hiding away even as Paperjam pulled away, shifting their hands into their pockets once again. “...Thanks.”

“Sure.”

“Does this, um, mean that we’re dating?”

Paperjam’s eyes fluttered as they took a second to comprehend what they just heard. Their cheeks grew a little warmer, and they averted their eyes. “Is that what that means? I’ve never actually dated someone before.”

“Me neither.” Goth chuckled slightly, messing with his hands. This…entire interaction was really awkward. But he and Paperjam were teenagers, so maybe that was how this was supposed to be? Even though it was awkward, it was still nice. It was a mutual awkwardness and it made Goth feel better. He could probably talk to his parents about what it means to date someone, since they were married and had been for years. However that would open up a new can of worms that, frankly? He didn’t want to deal with! Paperjam definitely couldn’t ask their parents, since they hate each other so much. They could maybe ask Blue? Or Dream?

Goth cleared his throat, “Maybe we could ask Dream? Or the internet?”

“Nah.” Paperjam responded quickly, all traces of them being flustered gone. He wondered for a second if he could make them blush again, before flushing himself at the thought. “I say we just…do it.”

Clearly, Goth’s face showed confusion at the phrase and Paperjam rolled their eyes accordingly. They stopped walking and grabbed Goth’s hand. “What I mean is, we don’t need anyone to tell us what we are. We can date and do whatever, we can just make it work. We don’t need to ask anyone about what we’re supposed to be.”

“Paperjam…” Goth touched their face with his hand. They were really warm. He had to suspect that he was really cold. “That’s really sappy coming from you.”

“Oi!” Paperjam gently punched Goth in his shoulder and he laughed. They chuckled a little as well, playing with their ponytail.

Despite them moving away and taking their hand off of his, he almost immediately put his hands back on their cheeks. “I think you’re right though. I think I like just doing it our way.”

“Haha, oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Gently, their lips met.

[taz-writes]

today’s silly joke: how does the squad react to visiting a haunted house?

sayara is normal in a haunted house, she’s not too easily scared, but she does startle easily enough. she doesn’t particularly like being jumpscared so she would not seek the experience out... it makes her jittery and not really in a fun way. after book 3 or so she develops a “punch it if it scares me” reflex, but she CAN separate haunted house from reality, so she’s fine to go with friends. just doesn’t see the appeal. she’d get a giggle out of WORKING at a haunted house, though.

violet is banned from every haunted house in the nation because she brainpains the actors and/or has uncontrollable flashbacks. frankly vi would benefit a lot from a service animal to help with those reflexes, shame those aren’t really a thing in feilan (yet)

aelia is chill in haunted houses but annoying because she won’t take them seriously and mostly just laughs at everything. lmao you thought THAT was a good costume? your paint is peeling! hahahahaha! she constantly tries to get sayara to go with her and sayara’s like “eh i don’t get the point and also don’t like intentionally scaring myself” and elli’s like “but you don’t have to be scared when i’m with you~ and also you’re not getting it, the point is to make FUN of it”

lavender is genuinely scared if you have good enough makeup. lavender is banned from haunted houses because when she thinks her life is under threat she goes for the jugular. sometimes it’s easy to forget that she’s just as emotionally fucked up as violet, just quieter about it.

kyrina would be the perfect target audience for a haunted house, she gets it in spirit AND is pretty easily scared by dumb shit. AND she gets over it quickly, so once the experience is over she can shrug and go “haha that was fun! adrenaline!” and never thinks about it again. girl really lives in the moment! but unfortunately her magical control is lacking, so she has a tendency to accidentally zap and/or set people on fire when startled, and That’s Not Great… so she’s not really invited to haunted houses (despite badly wanting to go) until she’s a fair bit more mature than she is in book 1.

dusk goes to a haunted house, acts like she’s totally unflappable, “i don’t give a shit your performance is mediocre,” sells her apathy flawlessly, tells everyone around her (except kyrina) that they’re cowards for falling for such obvious deception… then goes home and does not sleep for a week because she’s 100% full of shit and is actually deeply unsettled. the next time you ask her to go, she makes up a lie about how busy she is, and then invents an entire structure to turn it into truth and get away with it.

amalie thinks haunted houses are rad as fuck and she and elli team up constantly to drag sayara along against her will. amalie’s seen a lot of scary shit in her real life, so fake gory makeup doesn’t impress her much, and she gets a kick out of the artistry of it. she has little rituals she does to keep the scary from working. she knows all the deep lore. on earth, 10/10 is that one friend who has memorized all the saw movie lore and has hot takes about it. this is actually something she sort of grows out of, though… over time horror stuff starts to make her more uncomfortable, and as an adult she really isn’t that into it anymore. there’s reasons at play, don’t worry about it.

[nightmarefuele]

💚- A memory that makes them feel guilty {{His Highness}}

Guilt?

❝Me?❞ Looking over one shoulder and then the other. Pretending there's a whole mob of goons there at his behest — woe, save your Clown Prince from the horrors of a bleak question !

(Nobody there.)

❝Well. I suh-pose. . . .❞ Looking, now, vaguely despondent; a sigh even goes so far as to tickle the dry bar breeze, if only to pep-up the stale premises. Here's where the real theatrics poke their dead heads. ❝Mayyy-be . . . there wAs this one time. An ice cream truck. . . . One'a those sing-song street-stops, and this one, well, she happened to frequent the neighborhood of my schoolboy days.❞

There's this redhead kid — well, he's a giant over little Joker, a ❛senior superior❜ in all so-ci-etal ❛sense.❜ So Ginger's got that chip on his shoulder he thinks is really just extra muscle, extra bite. Bite like the neighborhood dogs he hits, kicks, slams (big, small, mutts and all) 'cause he fancies himself this scary character. Maybe to pooches and wildlife he is. When he shuffles out half-toppled swirly cones, these real slushy affairs, he gives 'em with ugly side-grins (which work, somehow) at all the pretties and twice-ugly scowls at the littles; the pre-highs, the six years, the sevens, the eights. Behind their backs he calls the eights ❛reverse rates.❜

Ha-ha. (haha..heh.)

So when the little joke shows his face its all funnies and hoo-has (and not even wearing the makeup), the dustbunny of a senior football player with his jammies up in a twist over some-thing the Joker said, because apparently it's a crime to lay it out straight with a person and tell him his mommy's got lousy tongue work. ❛Man-to-man❜ or so they say, 'cause the next time Ginger comes a-rolling out in his diesel-powered milker it's Joker's house in his sights. He shimmies right out of that skinny door and keeps on going 'til he gets up to the . . .

❝. . . you know, house. Address. Place of re-si-dence. Where?❞ The top half of the clown's face inclines all that much higher. Forehead ghost-sheet white as ever — in fact it appears miles fresher than before. Coming from within, the red-and-black flairs glow. No room to picture a king; The Joker's got his spot.

Tricked out in that fine purple coat, good as signature, he looks royal as any of those British mugs.

So, ❝Not important,❞ naturally. Good as law, clown's word goes. ❝Who knows-ah, what kinda mail's been stuffin' up the box. Oh!, hmm,❞ animal's low growling, shark with painted teeth, ❝on thaat note. . . .❞

. . . where little Joker wasn't. See, he might go off to join the proverbial circus, but he was no jester and certainly not for prima-jock courts. By then he was already out with Gingerbread's ❛Nancy,❜ his sweet-sss, his ❛sugar.❜ And did I say our good boy's without his facepaint? I lie-d. 'Cause Nancy says she likes it, likes it a whole lot — and she's all too young for that Big Red anyway, so she doesn't mind (and he doesn't mind, the little joke) walking out on him, good and gone.

So that's when it happens, somehow; because nobody's home, little boy Joker's momma not around, and his father, well. . . . And so Ginger just busts on through, but he's forgotten not all dogs are little, and not all big dogs are mutts and poodles. This one'sa rottwei-ler, a whole tank for a breed, and plenty canon in that slavering maw.

(Did I mention the little joke for-got to feed him his evening chew?)

❝. . . Ended up replacing the poor fish. That ice cream scoop received a-uhh, a postal recommendation. I always did wonder if that's how it feeells — watching that sweet stuff melt.❞

He's looking over at her now, at Beth, and does she know what he's talking about? Unclear, of course, to which he refers: the fee-ling, strictly speaking, or the froyo itself. (Doesn't froyo deserve our empathy?)

A hum pinches at corner-mouth where scar serrates the divide between skin and slick. Pinches. Guilt-yy. Pinchy, gooey . . . thing. Lukewarm jello. Sorta . . . unsettled. Left out.

❝But you, here . . .❞ Makes a little clicking, tongue-and-teeth. King's coat a little less vivid now — darker colors, his curiosity. ❝You got something on yer mind-ah.❞

[canmom]

Animation Night 138: Del Toro’s Pinocchio

Happy almost-new Gregorian year everyone!

No huge introduction tonight since it is late and I imagine Guillermo del Toro needs little introduction in these parts, and for biography, I would be paraphrasing Wikipedia’s quite thorough article. I also have seen fewer films of his than I’d like, so I could give you only broad strokes: he has a deep and very genuine enthusiasm for gothic horror monsters and comics, he likes to tell metaphorical stories about fascism framed through fairy tales, he’s really big on body horror.

Here’s the really condensed version. del Toro got his start on horror movies, made his name on comic book movies Blade II and Hellboy 1 and 2, helping to revive the genre, and through that he got enough clout to increasingly do original films like El laberinto del fauno (Pan’s Labyrinth) and The Shape of Water which fit the del Toro ‘sympathetic or alien monsters contrasted against fascism’ template, Pan’s Labyrinth especially being the iconic del Toro movie; two gothic horror type movies Crimson Peak and Nightmare Alley; and odd duck Pacific Rim, a gleefully silly spin on mech anime. And I’m a little embarassed to say that I’ve only seen Pan and Rim. I’d rather wait to say more until I’ve filled in the rest.

But I will briefly talk about animation, since it’s Animation Night! Although he began as an eight-year-old with a Super 8 camera, Del Toro was interested in using animation from very early on, originally planning to create his first feature film Cronos as a stop motion film until his studio was robbed. He worked for a long time in special effects makeup, and most of his films have had an animation component, often blended with practical effects. With Hellboy, del Toro deep inspiration from Ray Harryhausen’s stop-motion, and asked Tippett Studio (the studio founded by Phil Tippett of Mad God) to make the miniatures and puppets, but I’m not sure if he used stop motion there. Pan’s Labyrinth using elaborate animatronics, The Shape of Water touching up a suit with CGI. Pacific Rim mostly shot its action scenes in CG at ILM, with Del Toro asking them to use a saturated colour and draw inspiration from Hokusai(!) in the wave effects.

Oddly enough, Pinocchio is not the first time del Toro has made a fully animated something. That is actually a series of CG TV shows animated by Dreamworks, the Tales of Arcadia series. It begins with the urban fantasy Trollhunters (not to be confused with the Norwegian fantasy mockumentary), followed by the sci-fi fish-out-of-water 3Below and time-travel Arthurian isekai Wizards (not to be confused with the Bakshi film).

Del Toro is credited as the ‘creator’ on all three series, which turns out to mean he originally planned it as a live-action TV show, which he turned into a book - a book which got picked up for a film by Dreamworks, and then finally evolved into a TV series. I’ll admit, I haven’t really looked into this much more than that, but it’s apparently scooped up a lot of praise and many awards.

OK, so, enough preamble, Pinocchio then. It’s a famous novel from 1883 by Italian writer Carlo Collodi. I suspect you know how it goes, at least in the broad strokes: puppetmaker Gepetto creates a living puppet, but he wants to be a real human boy; he becomes a serious troublemaker, and gets cursed for it, famously with a nose that grows whenever he tells a lie. Like most novels of the time, The Adventures of Pinocchio was first serialised in a weekly magazine, before getting compiled into a massive volume compiling all of Pinocchio’s many misadventures. (I think it’s interesting how serial fiction is making a big comeback lately, but more on that elsewhere.) In the first part of the serialisation, it ends with... Pinocchio getting executed by hanging, I’m not even kidding, it was supposed to be a ‘be moral’ tragedy. However, if I’m reading the summaries right, Collodi decided to retcon this and serialise it into something longer.

There’s a lot of Pinocchio-related things coming out right now. Disney are continuing their pattern of tedious expensive CGI remakes of their early traditionally animated movies, there’s an upcoming Souls-like game Lies of P, and there’s even a Russian animated film Pinocchio: The True Story. I couldn’t begin to tell you what kicked off this Pinocchio fever, since the book has been in the US public domain since 1940 - not coincidentally when Disney’s first adaptation came out. I was a little tempted, not gonna lie, to do a night where we watch all of them, but I don’t think I could sit through that lmao.

I showed Disney’s original Pinocchio on Animation Night before. By virtue of its position in history, and the ludicrously complex animation, it has positioned itself as the definitive filmed Pinocchio - the one that all subsequent adaptations must in some way respond to. For more on that, read Animation Night 84: The Walter Dismey.

Funnily enough I actually I fell asleep during that one (I was very tired that day and in a very cosy place...), so I’m actually going to watch it again. It is relevant, because that Disney film was part of del Toro’s inspiration. He set out to make his Pinocchio as far back as 2008, describing it as a lifelong passion project, and that he appreciated what he called horror-movie like aspects of the original as well as the traditional animation. Wanting to set his one apart, del Toro stumbled on the designs of illustrator Gris Grimley, and hired him. Along with Grimley, he found a co-director in Mark Gustafson, a stop motion animator who’d worked with Wes Anderson on Fantastic Mister Fox and evidently had some experience with working with normally live-action directors. Later cam art director Curt Enderle from Laika and usual collaborator del Toro Guy Davis to design characters; the models were built over here by a specialist company called Mackinnon & Saunders. For more see here.

One of the things that interests me reading about it is that the animation is described as being very naturalistic, with a lot of attention paid to blinking, shifts of gaze, and that kind of thing. That sounds like a fascinating angle to bring to stop motion, and I hope I’ll have the energy to write about it after the film. Narratively, I’ve avoided learning too many spoilers, but I know it involves an ‘Italian youth training camp’ so I think I can guess how that’s going to play given del Toro’s usual themes. But we’ll see! I’m told there might even be songs.

I think that’s all I want to write tonight. So here’s the plan! We’ll take another, more wakeful go around OG Disney Pinocchio (1940), and then dive into the exciting new flavour of anti-fascist stop motion Pinocchio (2022).

Animation Night will go live now at twitch.tv/canmom, we’ll begin the movies in about half an hour at 20:40 or local equivalent. Would love to see you there!!

[slumberingchaos]

She's thinking, lip twisted to one side and a soft hum sounding in the back of her throat. And then: ❝ You look photoshopped. There's no other explanation for it! ❞

"------ If one could photoshop in real life, Chrissy, wouldn't it be you - a cheerleader- as the poster child?" His tone was light, teasing just as her own was assumed to be. "I have seen the horrors which lie beneath the layers of makeup, you know. "

[dimepdf]

NEED MORE EMOBOY EDDIE HEADCANNONS CAUSE OH MY LORF

𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘. + 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. he may not look like he gets bitches, but honey that dick was 11 inches.

pairing. eddie munson x reader

word count. emo boy - ayesha erotica 🎶

genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, emo!eddie, fluff, crying kink, pegging, mommy issues, biting, lmk if i need to add more | —  emo boy part one, don't forget to reblog 🤍

emo boyfriend eddie who is covered head to toe with patchwork tattoos of random shit like fantasy creatures, your favorite cartoon characters, and song art from his favorite rock bands.

emo boyfriend eddie who constantly requests that you change the balls in his piercing because his fingers are too shaky and sore from playing bass all day.

emo boyfriend eddie who will take ten more minutes longer than you to get dressed because of all of his accessories and jewelry that he wears, even if you’re just going to one place.

emo boyfriend eddie who will make your little cousins cry by convincing them that he’s actually a real-life dragon/demon.

emo boyfriend eddie who will literally bribe you with kisses just to get you to watch his favorite horror movie with him.

emo boyfriend eddie who tries to comfort you whenever you cry and is sad, but ends up crying with you instead. 

emo boyfriend eddie who apologizes for literally everything. Even when you’re not mad, he thinks he did something to annoy you anyway.

emo boyfriend eddie who will say the most bleak and blunt response to your question before he can catch himself. 

emo boyfriend eddie quizzes you on rock songs and artists every morning when he picks you up for school and only unlocks the door when you answer correctly.

emo boyfriend eddie who spends his entire weekend explaining that DND is only for you still not to get it.

emo boyfriend eddie who wears your crop tops because he claims to look better in them.

emo boyfriend eddie who is very much into you doing your makeup just so he can see your mascara and eyeliner run down your face while he’s fucking you.

emo boyfriend eddie who’s favorite place to have sex is on his floor because you refuse to lie on his bed without sheets.

emo boyfriend eddie who gets turned on whenever you are stern with him because of his mommy issues.

emo boyfriend eddie who whimpers and moans like a pathetic pornstar whenever you’re on top.

emo boyfriend eddie who says he’s not into anything kinky but literally dreams about you tying him up and pegging him till all he can say is your name.

emo boyfriend eddie who will literally become the most petty bitch ever if you don’t give him aftercare.

emo boyfriend eddie who acts all annoyed when you call a pet name in public but will literally melt if you call him one in bed.

emo boyfriend eddie who will cum so quickly if you bite him.

emo boyfriend eddie who will get a dick piercing only if you get your nipples pierced with him.

emo boyfriend eddie who will expect you to pull his hair during sex.

emo boyfriend eddie who's dick is too big for him to know what to do with it.

[krystal-prisms]

Here we are lads, new post in my Dracula binge adventure. I'm on post number 3 and adaptation number fuck if I know. A lot.

So this one is Dracula 3000 (2004). Presumably different than Dracula 2000. Hopefully better, but we'll have to see.

This is set in the future, in space, which is a vibe. Right out of the gate I'm giving it not a lot on accuracy so we're going based purely on vibes, which are as we've gone on, the rating system that I have developed.

We've got Abraham van Helsing, captain. Arthur Holmwood, "The Professor" who is apparently not that smart, Mina Murray, the navigator, who is also apparently not good at her job. These are all the original characters. This is gonna be a wild ride.

Point for acknowledging that Arthur exists. I think they actually meant to make him Seward though.

I will say that it's interesting how they did the Demeter and are setting up the conflict, with the Demeter being an abandoned space ship and the main characters having to investigate it. The corpse is cool too how they tied it to the book. The hair is way way too long though.

I am obsessed with the effects and the filming of this, the angles and transitions are everything.

I'm getting real Among Us vibes from this. There sure as hell is an imposter here.

Obsessed with the fact that the ship is Space Communist. Also that Transylvania is an entire planet of vampires and that Dracula is the last one cause the planet is dead. Like no shit, a planet of fully vampires is not sustainable, there's no food source.

I admire the crew's dedication to guns, even after multiple demonstrations that it is completely ineffective.

How and why on earth did Vampire Mina get makeup where 1) they are in the middle of space on a 50 year old ship in the middle of deep space 2) why would her priority to be put on makeup and lie in a coffin instead of going to go eat the rest of the crew and 3) why didn't the dudes get a makeover.

I do appreciate how they made van Helsing descended from famous vampire hunters, and all bad ass I'm gonna kill these fuckers and then immediately get his ass handed to him by Dracula and turned into a vampire, and then immediately staked. He was giving Last Guy In A Horror Movie energy but nope, not today. Lol.

Point(?) for managing to to make every single character so profoundly and fundamentally unlikable in completely different ways. Like, everyone here sucks ass so hard, it's hilarious.

Also, in this scenario there's no downside for just. Letting Dracula suck your blood. Like, you don't Die die, you just turn into a vampire and become slightly more feral. Like, it's either turn into a vampire or be stuck on a ship being hunted, just cut your losses, man.

Ok no but that ending, I'm in love with it. Most of the crew was a vampire, then stabbed. Dracula got his arm cut off in a door. The only surviving guy left and the badass girlboss who was actually a government sent robot but before that was a pleasure bot leave to go fuck. There's a recording of the former captain of the Demeter from 50 years ago says he has to sacrifice himself and the ship. 50 years in the future I guess. The ship blows up. The end. Perfect. Classic. Beautiful ending. No complaints.

So overall, for accuracy it's like, in the negatives. None to speak of. However, in terms of vibes, despite all the characters being completely and utterly loathsome, I did like it. It wasn't supposed to be funny, but it sure as hell was. 7.5/10 it wasn't good, but it sure was a good time.

[burnedbyshoto]

indulge me

indulge me: an arrangement

— Being a secret little girl in the modern world is rough, but it becomes much more chaotic when a classmate of yours offers to be your new daddy dom.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, nsfw, ddlg dynamic, college!au, modern!au, daddy!shouto, little girl!reader, I am not well versed in this dynamic please do not use this as an educational source, dom!shouto, sub!reader, biting, marking, mating press, nipple play (both), spanking, oral, gagging, choking, praise, degradation, little space

word count: 13,547

a/n: this is a commission for @bakusbiatch​ thank you for your endless amount fo patience as it took me 100x longer than ever to write this

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If there was something you knew now that you completely did not understand at the age of eighteen was the entire dynamics of sex. To be fair, after an adolescence of watching porn, reading erotica, and even gossiping between friends, it was, without doubt, that you were entirely clueless about real, healthy dynamics.

First off, the first time you had sex was super uncomfortable. 

There was no break or even space for pleasure to build in because you had been so tense, so awkward that you remained rigid and still the entire three minutes the guy fucked into you. You remember his sweat-soaked body collapsing on top of you, his eyes seeing galaxies in the stuffy, now smelly room as he breathed out a ‘Woah.’

You had smiled at him stiffly, letting his softening dick flop out of your dry vagina and curled in on yourself as he snuggled into you, praising the world and everything around it for this moment. It was without saying that you left his cum stained sheets and ran back home.

Sex sucked.

But that was when you were seventeen and made the terrible decision on fucking your friend with whom you had scary sexual tension. You avoided sex to your best ability after that, not so much as caring to allow anyone to touch you because that was disappointing. Why would you go through that when your fingers sufficed much better? Why go through that awkward tension when you didn’t have any moments of awkwardness when reading smut?!

Audios were better.

Words were best.

But, as one does, you fell in love against your will to a boy just a few months older than you. His smile was soft, and his words were kind, but oh, did his touch drive you hot and mad. You weren’t exactly sure how long you had lasted, how much perseverance you had kept when the two of you would fall onto his (thank fucking god) clean sheets, his strong hands and fingers keeping your hips close to his as you kissed him as if you couldn’t live without his touch.

“Are you… are you ready?” he had asked, his shirt thrown into the abyss of his room and the button of your jeans undone, revealing the simple set of panties you had on. “I don’t want to—”

“I’m ready,” you interrupt him, your body practically burning from the inside out with the desperate need and lust for him to fuck you. “I’m ready.”

He stills, his tongue peeking past his lips before a slow, chilling grin spreads against his mouth.

“Okay,” he nods, “can I ask you to do something, though?”

You, in your desperation to get his dick out of his sweats and buried deep into your throbbing cunt, nod.

“I have a daddy kink… I really, really like the daddy little girl dynamics,” he breathes, palms pressing to your knees and dragging down your inner thighs in a teasing, near authoritative way. “Can we… are you interested in trying it?”

Now, although you had largely avoided sex, toys and fingers weren’t nearly enough to replace the overwhelming need to be touched, fucked, and worshipped by another human being. You had fucked plenty of people who had always claimed to have kinks and fetishes. Most of the men you had in bed who said they had a daddy kink only liked being addressed as daddy; that was it. There was no true dynamic, just a play on the power the title brought them.

So, in the naive, childish way you were, you agreed.

You listened to his every command in bed, thrilled and keened under his praise for his princess, for his little girl, and you ate it up, thanking and praising your daddy. The sex ended with you cumming so hard you went blind for a moment, so dizzy from your high. As the both of you drifted off to sleep, you had no clue when you woke up in the morning he would present you with a little girl starter package made by him for you specifically. It was then that you realized that dynamics were an actual thing, and as he presented you a checklist of kinks, toys, and rules he laid out, you realized that nothing you had ever experienced — real or fictional — could have prepared you for this.

The two of you went through the list and rules together, your eyes widening and face blazing with embarrassment as he described his expectations and needs with this dynamic. You nodded, so completely lost in this entire thing that you agreed with most everything he offered and wanted.

The one rule you did have didn’t necessarily surprise him.

The dynamic was to remain a secret, you asserted, unable to budge on this thought. You could be his little girl, but it was to stay in private, never in public. And he tilted his head in thought but ultimately agreed with a smile. He thought you’d one day stop being in the closet over this kink, and you thought the opposite.

And time moves forward; it’s rigid and unforgiving. Two years into a relationship, a year and a half into the dynamic, you and your daddy break up, and you, against all odds, are left scrambling for a daddy you never realized you needed.

What was a girl to do?

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Your head is angled downward, and the hood that sits on your head is not concealing your face as well as you would have liked. It was without saying that you were a woman of pride. You took great care of what you did, how people viewed you, and how you presented yourself to the world. Most days, you always exited your small apartment as an excellent student who was always wearing properly done makeup and stylish outfits. 

Your style screamed confident woman (not little girl, you absolutely refused to wear anything cutesy in public), and you walked with your chin raised and eyes on the horizon.

To see that you were in sweats, an oversized hoodie, no makeup on, and perusing the store's area made for young girls and toddlers, was a shock. You had made sure to come nearly thirty minutes before closing; no one would be here to accidentally see you, no one could see you in your embarrassing shame-picking for your dynamic. All because your newest daddy couldn’t afford to buy you new things since your old ones had your ex’s name or brand all over it.

This was for the best; you reminded yourself as you haphazardly threw the items within the basket, face flaming as you ignored the temptation to simply stand in the aisle and flip through the sticker book and coloring book you recently tossed into the cart. You were fine; you already had your plan of action on what to say when purchasing these items.

‘My sister is pregnant again, and she already has a kid,’ you mentally rehearsed, imagining an excited smile on your face because you are excited for this imaginary pregnant sister of yours. ‘It’s a present for the baby and the brat.’

Solid.

Perfect.

Beautiful.

Making sure to quickly take note of what was inside the basket, you spun on your heel and marched your way through the empty store to the deserted register.

You kept your head down as you placed the basket on the conveyor belt, easy peasy, you would be fine!

“Found everything you were looking for?” a voice asks, piercing through your mental rehearsal just in case you got questions. 

You blink, head raising up, exposing your face to the person behind the register.

It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal.

Checking things out at the register wasn’t supposed to be all that embarrassing. I mean, what could top having to buy pads and tampons from a creepy, greasy old man during your very first period ever?! But you had to admit seeing a familiar face behind the register as he began to scan the items in your cart kinda made it a big deal.

Todoroki Shouto read his name tag, and ‘TODOROKI SHOUTO?!’ screamed your heart. 

Oh, how to describe Todoroki Shouto, well you didn’t even know where to begin.

Shouto was one thousand percent a supermodel that has yet to be recruited. He could probably be a top star athlete, good enough to go overseas if he wanted. He was a genius. Someone who was somehow friends with everyone he came across even though he was a man of few words. 

He stood tall behind the register, the tight black high collared shirt sitting beneath a light blue opened dress shirt. His distinctive red and white slightly wavy hair — all-natural, you believe — pushed back in a way that you would bet to hell and back that he had run his fingers through it. For the past three years in university, you had more than a few classes with this stunning man. You two shared the same major, and he often sat at the back of the classroom, but you were nearly hyperaware of everything he did because his voice was liquid honey and sex and everything that was —

“You can let go of the basket,” Shouto cut through your thoughts, and you gasped loudly, suddenly realizing that you had zoned out thinking about him.

Your hand lets go of the basket, and you slap your sweater-covered hands over your mouth; horror strikes through you like a blazing sword. You weren’t wearing makeup, you were in trash clothes, and you were in front of a man you had lusting feelings over!

NO!

“Sorry!” you squeak, your heart and bile rising up your throat at alarming rates as Shouto merely smiles at you in understanding. “This is all stuff for my sister!”

Shouto blinks, his head tilting to the side as he scans a sippy cup.

“Your sister’s quite young,” he remarks easily, trying not to make you feel stupider—probably.

Tell the lie, y/n, you chide yourself as you shift your weight.

“Ah, well, not actually my sister,” you explain, fingers scratching against your scalp. “My sister is pregnant r-right now, and she already has a little one, so I thought that this would be a good… present?”

Nailed it.

Shouto’s eyebrows quirk, a small smile spreading across his face as he scans the plush doll. 

“That’s very kind of you; you must have a good relationship with your sister.”

“O-Oh yeah, we’re very close.”

“And would you say that this is something appropriate to give to a pregnant family member and their child?”

You froze and looked down at the items you had hastily thrown into the basket.

It was a pacifier, sippy cup, baby blanket, choker, coloring books, stuffed animal, candy, and stickers.

You choked, feeling heat exploding in your cheeks all over again; absolutely not. This was not something to give to a pregnant woman.

“My sister is pregnant,” Shouto explains, definitely sensing your poorly concealed stress, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m the youngest of my siblings, so I don’t really know what to buy her.”

“Absolutely the fuck not.”

Shouto blinked, and before you could start screaming apologies over your rudeness, he began laughing loudly. Your face continued to burn in your utter humiliation and shame, but Shouto only found amusement in this all as he began to place your items away in a bag. 

“What are your recommendations then?” Shouto finally asked, his lips pulled back into an easy, teasing grin. “And that’ll be forty-eight seventy-three.”

You shoved your card into the chip scanner immediately, your gaze everywhere but on him.

“I think you should get whatever your sister wants or still needs,” you quickly say, eyes now focusing on the Approved message on the machine. “Every person is different.”

“I suppose,” Shouto agrees, his arms crossing against his chest, and you have to resist the temptation to ogle at the way his muscles become sinfully pronounced. “Well, I won’t hold you up. See you in lecture tomorrow, y/l/n.”

“Bye!” you squawk, grabbing your bag and racing out.

His eyes burn into your back the entire rush out of the store, but you find that you can’t seem to worry about that. You’re much more elated and somehow horrified at the realization that he knew exactly who you were.

Step zero of who knows how many to get Todoroki Shouto to fall in love with you, complete!

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“So, about the upcoming paper assignment, I’m sure you’re all eager to get started on,” your professor’s voice boomed throughout the lecture hall, his arms folding across his chest as he leans against the podium with an easy grin. “I decided that I would be nice and allow for some partnering up!”

Your eyes widened as excited murmurs exploded through the classroom. 

Partners for a ten-page paper? You were going to thank god almighty. 

But, at the same time, you frowned. This was a class where you didn’t exactly know anyone. It was a course outside of your own major, and with your usual friends not in this class, you knew that you were going to have to go out of your way to find a partner. You withered a bit in your chair, not entirely on board with that train of thought.

“There are an uneven amount of you guys in the class, though,” your professor continued, still sporting that easy grin on his face. “And I decided that instead of having too many groups of three, and because I was so nice to allow partner work, I decided to make the partners. Look at the pinned paper at the door for your partner or partners for the group of three! No, I will not allow trades, and no, I will not allow complaining! Be grateful!”

Hopeful and exasperated murmurs sounded through the room as the professor dismissed the class and frantic movement followed after. Even as old as they were, everyone was desperate and eager to see who a random generator assigned them to. Packing up swiftly, you threw your bag over your shoulder and began walking towards the list. 

You wonder who you were gonna get.

“Y/l/n,” a voice spoke softly, lowly by your ear.

You whipped around — one part startled, a second part curious — and came to see Todoroki Shouto standing slightly behind you. His gaze was at the wall for a moment, dropping only when you were looking up at him. He smiles slowly, and you feel your chest tighten.

Oh boy.

“Todoroki,” you smile, attempting to relax completely in front of him. “Any hopes as to who’s your partner?”

“Well, as long as it isn’t Sero, I think it’ll be okay,” Shouto’s eyes crinkle with his deepened smile. “Last time I did a paper with him, we did it completely high—” you choke, eyes widening at the thought of trying to be eloquent enough to write a paper while high. “—It was terrible.”

“Oh, I bet,” you laugh, arms crossing across your chest as the two of you begin inching forward within the crowd, others leaving with proud laughs, curious frowns, or aggravated groans. “But at least it sounds like it was turned in?”

“It was,” Shouto nods, his teeth flashing as he finally tears his gaze from you. “Oh, would you look at that?”

You hum, eyes squinting as you try to read the list through the many heads before you.

Y/l/n, Todoroki S.

“Would you look at that.”

“Seems like we’re partners,” you laugh, relief and horror flooding your body.

“I’m glad it’s you.”

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So, it was decided that with the two weeks given to write the paper and taking Shouto’s job into account, this paper was to be written as soon as possible. The suggestion of working on it together in the same room and not just through google doc was brought up and agreed upon. So with consensus on that, the matter of where it was going to happen was brought up.

“We can do it at my place,” Shouto offered with a shrug, “my house is pretty big.”

“I don’t have a car,” you interject, a frown on your face — you wanted to see his house. “My apartment is five minutes from campus. Is that alright?”

A smile.

“That’s perfect.”

And so, on a Friday afternoon, you found yourself already apologizing profusely as you walked up the staircase that smelled just a tiny bit of cheese. You warned him about the mess of your apartment. About how not to judge you on any and all messes you might have made on your way out! That you would have cleaned up had you known this was happening!

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Shouto spoke, attempting to ease your anxiety as you push your key in the doorknob and turn it. “I really don’t mind a messy place.”

“Ha, well, this is it,” you say, your face feeling disgustingly warm as you breach the entrance to your small one bedroom one bathroom place. “Leave your shoes right there, and we can head in!”

Toeing off your own shoes, you scrambled into the apartment, eyes wide as you attempted to make sure that nothing was crazily messy or out of place. There wasn’t any dirty laundry or undergarments anywhere? No, good!

Shouto locks the door behind himself, a chuckle at the back of his throat vibrating in his chest as he watches you skirt about. He looks down at the shoes you were wearing, white sneakers, and smirks at how small they look compared to his. He never really thought he was that tall or big, to be honest. It was a decent size for someone from his family, but it amused him greatly to see his things pushed against yours.

He looked back up, eyes landing on your flustered face as you stood by a table in the kitchen area.

“Ready?” he asked, hands shoving into his pockets.

“I believe so!”

And for some reason, probably the very same reason that had him entranced by you, Shouto laughs and steps foot into your apartment.

The paper itself isn’t that hard.

It’s an argumentative piece mostly on a Green Act proposal that was currently being debated within the government body. A paper that was fifty percent argument was something you were elated to have, but the other fifty percent was using sources and articles to further back your point. It was now two hours into the paper writing, takeout filling the empty spaces between the table as Shouto’s laughter and your ranting filled the open air. It was nice; he was nice to hang out with.

“I’m just saying we are nearing a universal climate disaster, and I do not want to be wondering when I will die because some fat old men with huge wallets want to continue getting richer!” you yelled, your chest heaving with your lack of proper air. “It’s dumb!”

“I bet if you grabbed ahold of their favorite toupees, they’d fold and agree,” Shouto teases, his grin covered by the mug he’s currently drinking tea from. “I’ll bail you out of prison.”

“I wouldn’t go to prison for that,” you argue, arms folding across your chest as you shake your head in solemn understanding. “They’d murder me and make it look like an accident.”

“Dark.”

“You know it.”

“I’ll avenge you.”

“You better, or else I’ll blame you for my murder.”

Shouto’s jaw dropped, ready to retaliate with something else, but he was interrupted by a loud call from your phone. You frowned, head tilting as you pulled your phone out from your jean pocket and stared at the screen.

Incoming call from: dd.

“I have to take this,” you say apologetically, standing up as you answered the call. You waited until you were in your bedroom before placing the phone to your head, your heart hammering with the unknown. “Hello?”

.

Shouto heard the click of your bedroom door, and he sighed, leaning back into his chair. His eyes looked up at the ceiling, momentarily bored now that he wasn’t with you. He wondered who ‘dd’ was and if you were alright. He hoped it wasn’t anything serious.

Grabbing his water cup, Shouto frowned, seeing that it was empty. He looked over at the sink where you had initially filled up the water cups. You wouldn’t mind if he filled it up on his own, right? Shouto pushed back his chair and stood, the cup resting in his fingers as he walked over towards the sink with a light hum.

He filled the cup slowly, not wanting to make too much noise. But as he stared at the drying dishes on your dish holder, he frowned at the sight of the pink sippy cup you had bought from the store last week. It was cleaned, obviously used, and he tilted his head.

Weird.

The cupboard was open, and Shouto couldn’t help but look into the dark wood and startled once again when he took in the neatly folded bib and the nearly innocuous pacifier sitting on top of it. Untouched, undisturbed, but used — definitely used.

Frowning, he took a slow, long drink of his water as he stared out towards the small living room you had. There, sitting on the wood coffee table, was the coloring book you had also purchased. That wasn’t adding up… if they were for your sister’s kids, why were they here? It didn’t exactly seem like the place to be holding them. 

Shouto thought, trying to figure out just why you had all these things for… well, children.

Was testing products on your own a thing people did?

Well, yes, he supposed so, but these were already licensed products. The coloring book, well, he guesses that was a pretty normal thing! Drawing and coloring were everyday stress relieves — his mother often used that to help herself. But a pacifier, a bip, and a sippy cup? The only thing he could rationalize with that was—

“You’re being fucking ridiculous, daddy!” your voice harshly whispered (maybe ridiculed and mocked) from your room, just loud enough that Shouto heard, and his eyes widened.

Oh.

Ohh fuck.

.

.

.

“You know what, this isn’t working,” you scoff, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you roll your eyes to the heavens above. “This was a good trial run, but I’m going to have to end this. This is not what I was looking for.”

“Come on, brat, you know you don’t mean that—”

You hung up, your fingers curled in a fist as you growled lowly at the screen. You wasted no time in blocking the number. What a fucking terrible daddy he was. Didn’t buy you anything, didn’t support you, or help you. There was no dynamic in this relationship. It was just a power-hungry dom with a streak for being called daddy.

A fucking poser at best.

Rolling your eyes, you tossed your phone onto your bed and walked out of your room back to the main area of your place. You looked at Shouto, who was sitting in his chair, his face bored, maybe a bit tired, and his face was concentrated on his phone — he was idly scrolling through it.

“Sorry that took so long,” you apologize, slinking back onto your chair, hands rubbing your face. “I tried to be fast about that.”

Shouto peered past the top of his phone, a comforting smile on his face, “Don’t worry about it; it wasn’t like we were intensely working on the paper anyways.”

You smile, slightly embarrassed. 

“That’s true, um—”

“I think it’s time—”

The both of you spoke over each other clumsily, awkwardly — both of you obviously thinking of something that wasn’t quite in front of you. Your smile feels less forced now, “we’re done for the day?”

Shouto shifts in his chair, his head dropping slightly in agreement, “I think that would be best. We did a lot today, though.”

“We did!” you agree with a laugh, standing up and grabbing the items off the table, assisting Shouto with getting ready to leave. “We’ll meet back up in two days?”

Shouto nods, “that sounds like a plan.”

You help him pack up, insisting that you could clean up the kitchen without his help. It takes a few minutes, but finally, you have him walking out of your place, a light wave on your hand before he exits onto the staircase. You close the door with a sigh.

Jesus Christ.

.

.

Shouto stands in the stairway, his eyes concentrated on his phone where he has a single question typed into his browser.

ddlg dynamics ↳ Let’s talk DDLG, also known as Daddy Dom Little Girl. It’s a submissive/dominant relationship where the dom is known as a “Daddy,” and the submissive is known as a “Little Girl.”

...Interesting.

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Now, you were a pretty paranoid person; you could admit that. 

You didn’t like being paranoid, but you were. Most days, you always triple-checked you weren’t being followed, quadruple-checked you had your school assignments turned in and your things in your bag. With your sex life and part of your social life being introduced to the ddlg dynamic, your paranoia grew even more.

Most people weren’t understanding — they weren’t. They assumed this dynamic was simply calling your dom daddy in bed and getting called princess in return! They always believed that, allowed for that. It was socially acceptable to call your dom daddy in bed, but god fucking forbid any other part of the dynamic come into play.

You remember reading comments in articles about grown women sitting in frilly skirts and diapers as part of her dynamic and watching grown adults tear her apart — skin and bones. That was the reaction you feared, you hated.

There was a reason why you enjoyed sitting in your frilly skirts, in your white and baby pink clothes. You loved having your dom come home, tired and stressed, and ask you, his little girl, to sit on his lap while he distressed. You enjoyed the sippy cups that helped to melt your anxiety, and you enjoyed doing chores under your doms watchful eye.

The praises, the rewards were always so uplifting, and the sex was always on an intensity that made you tremble with explosive satisfaction. If your dom wanted you in diapers, you would negotiate appropriately, and you sure as hell didn’t need a fucking stranger’s opinion on whether or not that was ‘normal.’

But no amount of confidence you had in your dynamic had ever eased the bottomless paranoia and anxiety. 

Hence why after Shouto had left your apartment and you realized in horror that you had left out some damning evidence to your dynamic. The coloring book on your coffee table and the sippy cup that was obviously used were on full display. You wondered for a few hours, nearly spirling with anxiety if he had noticed — if that was why he was partially stiff as he left for the day. You had only managed to calm down when he had sent you a text later that night that he had enjoyed being over and was looking forward to working together the next day.

The praise was needed, seeping warm into your bones as you rolled over in your bed and knocked out.

You thought that you were in the clear. That that was as far as things were going to go, but your paranoia came back the next day in full force as you sat in a group with Shouto.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Do you want a sticker?”

That was the beginning of it all.

You had accepted the sticker without a second thought. Your typical barriers down because the lack of a dom in your life was throwing you for a bit. God, you were pathetic. You had smiled brightly, eagerly nodding as you thrust your hands out towards Shouto, waiting to receive a sticker. 

“Good job,” he had said with an endearing smile, “you deserve it.”

It was only then that the weight of what happened settled on your bones, and you froze.

Fuck.

Smiling stiffly, you pressed the sparkly pink star to your shirt and returned back to your assignment, unable to speak up again for some time.

You had hoped that it was going to end there, but it seemed that nothing about your life was going in your favor right now. 

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Do you have a bedtime?” Shouto idly asked one late night when he was over, and you could not stop yawning to save your life. “I think everyone should go to bed at 10 p.m. on a school night, don’t you agree?”

You had choked on your saliva before disagreeing vehemently. 

“I don’t sleep until… like, um, three in the morning?” you make up, teeth tearing into your lip as you avoided eye contact.

“Such a bad girl,” Shouto murmured, much too low for you to pick up.

“What?!”

“That’s bad for your health,” he recovered with a smile.

“Oh… yeah, I suppose so.”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Y/l/n is a sub; she’s a brat about that,” Shouto said to the group you both were assigned to in yet another class the two of you shared.

You had been idly drinking from your coffee cup and was utterly zoned out when he said that. So when you had picked up his words, you nearly choked at the sentence, your eyes watering and your throat burning with your drink and humiliation as the entire table turned to look at you.

“Oh shit, are you okay?!” Mina asked, eyes wide.

“I’m a what?!” you splutter instead, eyes focused on Shouto and your cheeks beginning to burn with unsaid fear.

“You’re a substitute babysitter for your sister,” Shouto remarked, his head tilted as he feigned innocence. “You were telling me about that the other day, remember? Sero is trying to get into the babysitting gig too.”

You wanted to believe him, you wanted so desperately to believe that Shouto was just somehow landing a missile into every paranoid corner of your life without meaning to, but this was getting out of control. This was too on the head, too obvious to not say that he somehow saw your little things and pieced together the dynamic you’ve come to love and thrive in. But you couldn’t fess up; you wouldn’t give yourself to the wolves of embarrassment and shame over something you knew wasn’t wrong.

“Oh,” you say stiffly, smiling over at Sero, “I’m on an app that is used a lot by small families; I can text you the name?”

“I’d appreciate that!” Sero laughs, blissfully unaware of the rising tension between you and Shouto. “I didn’t think that high school girls had some type of business turf thing; they’re scary and aggressive!”

“It’s a serious job for high schoolers,” Mina waved him off, “this is the only thing most of them can do!”

The conversation between Sero and Mina began to drift off as you were staring at Shouto, unable to break the eye contact the both of you found yourselves connected by. You didn’t want to pull away, too bitter and anxious to. You were currently two weeks without a daddy dom in your life, and you knew that you should be able to have a better grasp on your life than this — you knew you couldn’t lean on this dynamic at every point in your life. But you were sad to admit that you were struggling to keep your head afloat. You felt like you were almost drowning, struggling to keep your composure as you needed a play or a simple scene.

But the confidence in Shouto’s eyes that were hidden behind the sheer curiosity and wonder was making your skin itch, making you want to grab him by the collar and bring him in close and demand to know exactly what he was thinking. 

He would not embarrass you.

He would not.

“Can I talk to you, Todoroki?” you asked, practically demanded of Shouto as the group of you began to stand at the table, readying to leave. 

If you noticed Mina’s and Sero’s eyebrows shoot up towards the ceiling, you didn’t say anything as Shouto paused in putting things into his backpack. His head tilted, but he nodded his head, “yeah, about what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile stiffly, tossing your own backpack over your shoulder as you turn on your heel and immediately begin walking. Uncaring if he was following you or not. “Bye, Mina, Sero.”

There’s silence behind you before the heady sound of a chair scraping against the floor is heard and the long, quick strides of Shouto following after you. You exit the cafe you had been in, eyes squinting when the harsh rays of sun fall on your face, but you don’t hesitate or pause even once.

There’s no one outside right now; it’s just you and Shouto. 

You feel him at your shoulder, and you keep your gaze straight ahead, unwilling to look at him just yet. 

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” you finally whisper, your voice low and angry. You nearly spat them out at him, utterly humiliated and horrified that you were probably outing yourself should he just be that dense and annoyingly able to pick at your anxiety. “Stop it.”

“I don’t—” Shouto began, eyes wide and screaming of innocence that could make you cry.

“I know you saw my things, and I know you pieced it together,” you cut him off, your lips pursed tight. You suddenly stop in your tracks, tears burning at the back of your eyes as you turn to face Shouto. “So if you have a problem with that, I suggest that you kindly fuck off!”

Shouto stands next to you, hair hastily swept backward, hand on the strap of his bag, and his face telling you that you had miscalculated something. You prayed it wasn’t about how he knew about you being a little.

“I don’t have a problem with that,” Shouto admits, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck. “I don’t think you’re weird or strange or bad for being into the ddlg dynamic. I’m actually… I take part in it too. I was trying to subtly tell you that I was into it as well, and well, I heard that you and your last dom broke it off… I wanted to tell you that I was interested in becoming your new dom.”

You blink.

“Eh?!”

“I’m interested in forming an agreement with you?” Shouto tilts his head; there’s a sense of seriousness to his face, his eyes innocent. “I need a little, and if you’re looking for a dom…”

He lets the silence fill the rest of his sentence, and your mouth gapes open as blood rushes to your face at the straightforward request.

“I… I barely know you!” you splutter, your heart in your ears as you can barely comprehend what was going on. 

Two weeks ago, Todoroki Shouto was practically a stranger. You knew him about as well as a person knew the barista at their favorite coffee shop. Friendly, but not close. Definitely not close enough for you to say that you would allow for him to see you in your little space, for him to give you a list of rewards and punishments — for possible sex?!

“Most caregiver contracts like this are done between people who know even less,” Shouto shrugs, his arms folded across his chest. “You don’t have to say yes now or even agree, but I like you a lot. I want to pursue a relationship with you, and I assumed that this would be a good starting ground especially if you need it.”

Your tongue sweeps across your lips, unable to come up with a single rationale thing to say. 

“I don’t need an answer right now; indulge me, though,” Shouto smiles softly, his gaze dropping for a moment. “Take as much time as you need. We can do a single scene to test it out, and if it doesn’t work out, no hard feelings. Let me know when you’re interested in it, though.”

You can’t say anything; you can only numbly nod as Shouto smiles at you once again.

“Let me know.”

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Todoroki S.: ↳ If you need a list, I’ll send mine over whenever you want. I have my rules, rewards, punishments, and kinks all supplied in it. [received Today 23:44]

Todoroki S.: ↳ If you need a list, I’ll send mine over whenever you want. I have my rules, rewards, punishments, and kinks all supplied in it. [seen 7 Days Ago 23:44]

You: ↳ Send your points, we can see if we’re compatible. [seen now]

Todoroki S.: ↳ I enjoyed the scene we did today; I hope you did too. I’m interested in making this a real thing if you are too. [received Today 20:44]

You: ↳ I did, too, actually, lol. Um, thank you, first of all! We can work on the contract now. [received Today 20:48]

Todoroki S.: ↳ Okay. I’ve already made the first draft of one; if you’d like to look it over, let me know what you think, and we can edit some things around. [seen now]

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It has been two months since the contract was signed.

Two months.

Two months of Shouto practically living in your apartment with you, a once stranger seeing you at your most vulnerable. He was a steady hand on your back as you slipped into your desired little space, a constant warmth at your side as you went about your day at home. 

It had been weird at first; your anxiety still wouldn’t let up, nearly convincing you many times that this was all but a prank. That Shouto would pull away from you when you least expected it and would expose you to the world. There had been many times where he would hold you on his lap, his arms warm around your back, your favorite stuffed animal sitting on your lap as he promised you that you were wrong.

“Daddy is here to protect you, sunshine,” Shouto murmured in your ear, his warm lips pressing to the small behind your ear. “Daddy would never do that to my baby girl. That wouldn’t make me happy.”

“I-It wouldn’t?” you sniffled, your nose face nuzzling further into his neck as your sobs had finally stopped. 

“No, not at all, sunshine,” Shouto smiled against the crown of your head. You felt his lips press a soft kiss there, his warm hands stroking up and down your back. “Do you remember what makes Daddy happy?”

You blink, your wet eyelashes heavy and sticking together as you peer at his jaw as if it could possibly tell you.

“I can’t… I can’t remember, sorry, Daddy,” you sniffle again, suddenly terrified that he would be upset with you. You were such a terrible baby girl.

“What makes Daddy happy is seeing his baby girl smiling, happy, protected, and safe,” Shouto easily relays, pulling you away from his shoulder, his calloused fingers rubbing the tear streaks that still stain down your face. “I promise that I will never do anything to cause you harm, sunshine. I only want you to be happy; you being happy makes me happy like nothing before.”

There’s no stopping the way your bottom lip trembles with the pleasant weight of his words, the way it warms you from your belly and curls to your toes.

“Pinky promise?” you whimper, somehow out of breath.

Shouto looks at your curved pinky that is extended out for him to hold, to seal the other half of a promise he has no intentions of ever breaking.

Smiling softly, Shouto wraps his pinky with yours and twists it gently, locking the promise.

“Pinky promise,” he affirms, placing a kiss to your knuckles.

.

.

He was so good to you.

So sweet, gentle, patient, and kind.

He tended to spend the night Mondays through Fridays, giving you the weekend to be on your own. He only ever slept in your bed with your given consent (which was every single time), and there was just something about wearing the silver chained choker on your neck that he bought for you. Dainty and cute, nothing too crazy to draw overwhelming attention.

It had a tiny cherry blossom that was engraved with Shouto on the back.

It was a constant and calming reminder of what you had during the day.

The arrangement was going better than you had assumed it was going to be.

Shouto made for an excellent daddy, but there was one grievance you had. With two months of extreme kinship, so many nights of being curled into his side, getting near-daily cuddles for following his orders perfectly, and a few spanks because you were careless even after he warned you — you had assumed that the sexual part of the dynamic would come out. 

You had okayed for him to be able to fuck you, regardless of whether or not you were in little space! You reached your little space more often than not around him because he was so well, but now you were bordering desperation. You wanted your daddy to please you more, to give you the reward you wanted most: his cock.

“I’m home, bunny,” Shouto called out, his voice hinting exhaustion but mostly satisfaction at being home again.

Per your rules and regulations, greeting Shouto with a cheerful ‘welcome home, daddy!’ when he arrived home was a must. It was a clear indicator that not only were you home but that you wished to indulge in the dynamic for the rest of the day.

But you sat at the coffee table wearing an unapproved, not chosen outfit for home.

You were wearing an off-the-shoulder white cotton shirt that was big and soft, pink lace shorts that barely covered your ass but was hemmed with lace and pretty frill. You had thigh highs on as well that were the same pink as your shorts. There was a pacifier in your mouth, your gaze focused on the Disney coloring book in front of you as you colored in Sleeping Beauty. 

You turned your head, eyes looking at your daddy with a vague look of disinterest before turning back to your coloring.

“I said ‘I’m home,’ bunny,” Shouto restated, giving you the benefit of the doubt of whether or not you heard him. Typically you were excited to have him home, going to his side immediately and asking a million questions as to what he had been doing and why he was home so late. 

“Hmph,” was your response as you placed a sticker onto the coloring page.

Shouto’s eyebrows furrowed; he toed off his shoes and began walking towards you, assessing what was happening. 

“Is my bunny mad that I was a bit later than I had promised?” he asked, sitting on the couch behind you, his fingers brushing across your clothes as if he was trying to remember if he had selected this outfit. But the sudden touch that you were craving in a way like no other made your head spin just so, and you resisted the motion of caving.

You wanted to be a brat! Your daddy should be taking care of all your needs! He promised he would be taking care of you better than you took care of yourself! He should know when you wanted his cock!

“Hmph!” you hrmph again, and you lean out of his touch even though you craved it. 

Although you couldn’t see him, you could feel the slow, calculating blink Shouto took at this action. There’s a moment of silence before the couch sounds under his shifting weight. You freeze at the feeling of his warm palm on your spine, a whisper of danger. It feels partially like a threat, a reminder of impending consequences.

“What did daddy say about bunny using her words?” Shouto asks, his voice stern, low, commanding. 

It should scare you, but the threat in his voice makes your heart stammer and your cunt wet. So, instead of doing what’s right, you stand up, ignoring him yet again as you stick your nose up to the ceiling and try to walk away. 

Well, you try to, that is.

Before you can go too far, Shouto’s fingers are wrapped around your wrist, keeping you in place.

 “You know I don’t like it when you don’t speak, right?” Shouto asks, his eyes digging into your cheek as you refuse to look at him. Yet another rule he has in place. You had to look at him when he spoke to you or when you spoke to him. It was to help make sure that you behaved properly in public — to make you the best baby girl ever. “Use your words and look at me, princess.”

The word princess rolled off his tongue, and you bit down on your tongue to keep the breathy moan from expelling from your lips. He typically only used princess when you were on the verge of genuinely displeasing him, when he was warning you one last time before a punishment was given. Your daddy was two months without jacking off, exhausted from work, and now dealing with you, his bratty baby girl. There was no way this wasn’t going to end with him forcing you to suck him off or to use you as an onahole (something you had said was okay unless you used your safeword, of course).

You shook in his hold, teeth biting your lip as you stared at the wall, refusing to heed his command.

“I’ll give you to the count of three to look at me and address me,” Shouto says, his thumb stroking the innard of your wrist. “One.”

There was no way you would cave.

“Two.”

The silence between the two of you was heavy.

“One.”

Excitement shot through you at the thought of him finally fucking you into your mattress.

“No dessert tonight,” is what Shouto said instead, and you froze.

You whipped your head towards Shouto, fury, and humiliation painting your face as your jaw drops, the pacifier falling onto the floor.

“No!”

“No?” Shouto repeats, his eyes narrowed, unhappy with the challenge. “Do you want me to take away your video games too?”

“No!” you shriek, hands clawing at your face because this was not going the way it was going. “I want my dessert and my video games!”

“Too bad, princess,” Shouto states sternly, unaffected by your growing tantrum. “You lost them both for tonight.”

“No! Give them back! I haven’t done anything wrong, daddy!” you scream, throwing your arms in your hysterics as Shouto stands up to his full height, looming over you without a single issue. Tears prick at the back of your eyes because you’ve messed up somehow; your daddy doesn’t want you — doesn’t love you the way you love him.

“You’ve been misbehaving this entire time I’ve come back home,” Shouto retorts, his other hand grabbing your wrist and managing to place them both close to his chest, limiting your thrashing actions. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the new outfit.”

“I don’t want those punishments, daddy! I don’t want t-them,” you wheeze, your eyes locked on your hands that are bound so tightly in his hands, and you whimper loudly. “You’re hurting me, daddy!”

“And you’re trying to hurt me,” Shouto calmly points out. “I can’t have you doing that, so I’ll hold onto you until you calm down enough. I’m doing this because I care for my little brat.”

“You don’t care! You don’t c-care!” you sob finally, unable to keep the hot tears from your eyes. “Daddy doesn’t care about me!”

The effect is evident and instant.

Shouto’s grip on your wrist lessens altogether, and your pounding fists finally connect with his chest as you collapse against him.

“Daddy doesn’t c-care…”

“That’s not true,” Shouto breathes easily, his fingers brushing against your sides before his arms wrap around you. “I care so much for you, baby. What’s wrong? Tell me what I can do to make things better.”

A loud sniffle emits from you, and you fist your hands in his shirt, your head shaking. 

“It’s been two months, and daddy won’t let me have his cummies,” you whisper, terrified that he would reject you. “Am I not good enough? Attractive enough that daddy wants to reward me with his dick?”

There’s a shift in the air.

“My little doll wants her daddy’s cock, is that what?” Shouto murmured against the top of your head. “My precious, innocent baby girl wants something filthy like that.”

“Mmn,” was all you could manage, your face burning at the implications, the suggestion in his voice. 

“And instead of using her words, as we practice, she decided to act like a little brat to get her way,” Shouto’s voice is low, raspy, and deep. Its tenor is just right that it makes the room instantly hotter, your body brimming with excited energy. “I think… my beautiful doll has broken too many rules for me to just give her a good reward. She deserves to be my little doll as punishment for now. I thought she was grown enough to ask for things she wanted.”

You gasp as Shouto’s warm, calloused hands drop down to the minimally exposed flesh between your booty shorts and your thigh highs. It sends an entire wave of goosebumps down your skin, and you shudder as they rise upwards, slipping under your shirt and resting on the soft skin of your stomach. 

“Your punishment will be what daddy wants it to be, doll,” Shouto states, his fingernails brushing over your clothed nipples, and you mewl at the touch. “You’ve given up your right to speak right now, and because daddy can’t trust you to not be a brat, you will suck daddy’s dick until I see it fit. You will stand on your knees like the beautiful doll daddy knows you can be. Silent, obedient, and so beautiful.”

The words are a goldmine you’ve wanted to hear this entire time, but you’re upset — rightfully upset — that it took your daddy so long to figure it out! He needed you to spell it out for him to act on it!

“I don’t like sucking dicks!” you complain, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “That’s yucky!”

Shouto raised an eyebrow at that, his eyes flashing dangerously as he absorbed the implications of your actions. He knew he was going to earn this just as much as you were.

“Excuse me?” Shouto says calmly, a single eyebrow arched. “Do you want to repeat that?”

“You heard m-me,” you stammer, trying to remain steady under his steady stare. “If daddy couldn’t catch that, maybe I should be the one giving out the punishments.”

A hot, predatory smirk pulls across his face as his grip on your wrist tightens, and he yanks you just slightly closer towards him.

“Oh really?” he chuckles so coldly you shiver. “So you think you’re in charge here?”

You nod slowly, your pupils wide and blown. Your eyes were transfixed on his mouth, his pretty plump lips practically calling your name. 

His tongue swipes across his front teeth, and you watch him in awe, horror, and damning horny anticipation as he sits back on the couch and takes you down with him. You struggle for a bit, terrified as you feel unbalanced, ready to tumble to the floor. But your stomach is pressed heavily against his knees, pleasurable discomfort spreading through your body as you recognize this easy, beautiful spanking position. 

“I’m going to give you ten spanks,” Shouto announces, his hand rubbing smooth circles over your soft shorts. “You will count every one of them and thank me for each one. If you mess up, if you misbehave, you will get more until you do as I demand.”

You struggle against his hold, thrashing and twisting as his fingers push the shorts higher up your ass, exposing your flesh to him. But as he did so, you remember that you’re not wearing panties, and Shouto sees that too.

“Mm, you’re not wearing panties,” Shouto says, his voice trying to keep the undying want and lust from bleeding through his tone. “My precious doll is that desperate she couldn’t fully dress herself?”

“I can d-dress— aahhh!!!!”

Your interjection was interrupted by the sharp, well-practiced spank that Shouto delivered to your round ass. You arched against his lap, your skin tingling and feeling pathetically good. 

“I said you were my doll right now, and dolls don’t speak unless given permission to,” Shouto clipped, his hand circling your now tender flesh. “You didn’t count, so let's try again.”

SLAP.

“Oh my god!” you shriek at the contact, your head spinning at the craved touch. It wasn’t like his typical spanks, the ones that came down not to hurt but to remind you, to correct you to be better. These stung with power, reminding you that you were getting what you craved, and you felt your toes curl and your cunt beginning to seep with the knowledge.

Fuck, you wanted this.

THWACK.

“Again.”

THWACK.

“Daddy can spank your pretty little ass all day, doll. Do as you’re told if you want daddy’s cock.”

SPANK.

“O-One, thank you, daddy!”

WHACK!

You threw your head back at the sensation, your eyes crossing and your hips bucking backward as you shriek with pleasure. You don’t count, your head swimming with unfound energy, and Shouto tsks.

“You’re so terrible at following directions, aren’t you?” Shouto asks, his mouth hovering by your ear, and you nearly melt when his teeth tug at your cartilage at the same time he serves another heated spank to your perky ass. “Such a dirty brat, getting off on her punishments. But let me tell you, if you don’t start following what I instruct of you, I’ll fuck your mouth and leave you without any cummies.”

You gasp loudly, sobbing as he delivers yet another solid spank for your undoubtedly bruising ass. And so, with a pathetic, desperate nod, you agree.

You count to ten, thanking him each time with a beautiful sob that makes the bulge in his pants obvious to you. Your lips are swollen, bruised, and sheen with saliva from holding back your louder sobs. Your ass seems to be imprinted with the shape of his hand against your skin, and you tumble off his lap at the final thank you.

There’s slick gathered on your shorts, soaking through the pretty pink fabric turning it dark. 

“I forget that my beautiful baby girl is a masochist,” Shouto sighs as he stands up in front of you. You gasp on the floor, your head swimming with the building heat between your legs, and you hear an all too familiar, always exciting, sound of a belt being undone followed quickly by a zipper and rustling fabric.

“God, you’re so wonderful, doll,” Shouto sighs as he pulls out his hardening cock to where you’re already on your knees with wide, curious, hopeful eyes. “Already on your knees, ready to choke on daddy’s cock even though this is a punishment.”

You can barely register his words, your eyes focused and fascinated — scared almost — of the cock Shouto has. It’s fucking huge, and it’s thick, slightly curved upward with a pretty flushed tip and bulging veins. You were sure if you could even manage to take more than a few inches in!

“I think I remember something about how you don’t like deep throating,” Shouto hums contemplatively. You freeze, your heart stopping for just a moment at what he’s implying. “Well, it’s a good thing this is a punishment.”

His fingers press into your mouth, making you choke, and with your lips spread wide, mouth open for taking, Shouto guides his cock into your parted lips with a dangerous moan. 

There's an immediate ache in your jaw, the size, and girth of his cock overwhelming you without so much doubt. You gag immediately at the weight of it pressing on your tongue, filling your mouth. Heat hammers in your cunt, and you heave against him.

Shouto sighs as if he was in heaven, his hands grabbing the back of your head and slamming your head as far down his cock. So far that your nose brushed against the skin of his stomach, before pressing against it completely. 

Shouto moans louder than your panicked gags and chokes, his hips swirling and twisting as he looks down at you with lovesick eyes. “You’re so good at this,” Shouto praises, his fingers wiping away the tears that prick at your eyes. “So good.  Daddy’s so pleased with you, taking my cock so well. So beautiful even when you cry on my dick.”

Your throat spasms around his cock, your lungs burning severely from the lack of oxygen. Not a single part of your body able to relax as you desperately sought to breathe. It hurt, but it felt so good. Saliva began to pool from the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chin and drooling on your clothed breasts.

Shouto took notice and hummed contently.

“Daddy’s going to count to the number ten,” he informed you, rolling his hips further into your mouth, shoving his cock even further down your throat than you thought possible. “If you can keep your pretty nose pressed to daddy’s stomach the entire time, daddy promises you he will give you the best orgasm you’ve ever received.”

You made a squeaking noise around his cock, your fingers that were buried into his shirt gripping tighter as he suddenly lets go of your head.

“One.”

Resisting the urge to pull off him completely was a near-losing battle.

“Two.”

Your body shook with intensity, the scorching need to properly breathe slamming down on you.

“Three… four…”

Shouto’s hands began to pet your head, soothing the worried lines on your face, brushing away your tears.

“Five… six… fuck, you’re so gorgeous, baby girl.”

You whimper around his cock, and Shouto moans liquid gold in return. He smiles deviously, fingers brushing down your throat.

“Seven… eight…” you choke loudly when his fingers press against your throat, tightening your already spasming throat around his cock, furthering the burning sensation all throughout your body. “Nine…”

You look at him with pleading eyes, wordlessly begging for mercy, for something as he pauses for more than a second between nine and ten. His hips lazily jerk into your mouth, his free hand combing his hair back, messily styling it as he smirks. Your saliva was dripping uncontrollably now, pooling at the back of your throat, on your tongue, past your lips. Shouto sighs, his eyes bright with power, with the knowledge that you were so obedient.

“Ten.”

Immediately, you collapse from his cock. Saliva and pre-cum connecting your coughing mouth to his hard dick still. Your lungs ache, and your breathing is frantic as you try to regain a sense of composure. Your tears meaning nothing so long as the inferno between your thighs is tamed. 

“You did so well, baby girl,” Shouto praises, and despite the pain in your lungs, you puff up at the praise. “You did exactly what daddy asked for you, so daddy believes you deserve a reward. Do you agree?”

Unable to speak, your belly tight and warm, and your throat aching slightly, you nod eagerly.

“Use your words, angel,” Shouto coos; he steps out of his pants before squatting before you, his fingers grazing your chin. “Daddy loves it when he hears you speaking.”

“I would love a r-reward, daddy,” you whimper softly. 

Your eyes swim with want, with inexplicable needs and desires. Shouto softens when he notices you nosing into his palms; he brushes a strand of hair out of your face.

“Look at how politely you asked that,” Shouto praises, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth. “Daddy’s so proud of you, sweetheart.”

You keen some more, your wet eyelashes batting in your excitement and undying love for him.

“Now, daddy wants you to go to your room and take off all the clothes you want. Once you’re ready, I want you to call me in, and then daddy will take excellent care of you, okay?” Shouto commands you, his lips pressing softly onto your cheeks, eyelids, and finally softly onto your lips.

You gasp loudly at the touch, your eyes wide but looking incredibly drunk at the touch.

“Okay!” you giggle, pressing forward and taking his lips into another kiss.

He hums before assisting you to your feet, and you breathlessly laugh as you turn around and skip away towards your room. 

Your room is neat, as is required of Shouto. Your bed is neatly organized; there’s nothing on the floor or on your chair. Everything is put away correctly and cleanly. Grinning, you take off your shirt followed by your bra, shimming off your shorts, you toss away your clothes into your hamper, leaving only your socks on.

Hopping onto your bed, you grab a stuffed animal before turning to face the door and sing.

“Daddy, I’m ready!!!”

You squeal after saying that, excitedly staring at the closed door, eagerly anticipating the way Shouto would walk in. Your eyelashes flutter when you see the doorknob twist and in comes Shouto, who, unlike you, is completely naked.

Now you knew he was fit, even with your mind beginning to sink into your little space, you knew that Shouto was a handsome, fine man. He was built, muscular, and toned. He was tall, his head nearly hitting the top of the door if it wasn’t for the fact he was leaning against the doorframe. There is a slight smile on his face that screams of his pride, his joy of seeing you like this. And his eyes rake like hot coals against your body.

You shudder.

“Aren’t you cute,” Shouto murmurs, pride evident in his tone. He walks towards you, tongue slipping between his lips as he reaches the foot of the bed. “Such a beautiful princess, but now… what does princess need?”

“I need my daddy to take care of me,” you whisper, eyes hooded and mouth turning dry as he begins leaning onto the bed. “I want my daddy.”

“Such a dirty girl,” Shouto says with a chuckle as you begin to lean back onto your bed, your legs spreading for him. “Such a dirty, gorgeous girl.”

Your breathing stutters as the bed moves under his weight, and you’re practically panting as you watch his body slowly crawl over yours. Shouto looks down at you, his eyes deceivingly bright even with the shadows, and your eyes flutter as he leans down. 

You’re expecting a kiss, craving the feeling of his smooth, plump lips on yours. But you gasp in shock, betrayal, and in lust when his lips press against your earlobe. He trails his kisses everywhere, kissing every inch, every centimeter of your face, but never once your lips.

“Daddy, stop teasing!!” you whine loudly, feet kicking on the mattress and hands burying into his hair.

“I’m not teasing you,” Shouto objects, but the grin on his face says otherwise. “Why do you think I’m teasing you? What do you want?” 

“I want daddy’s kisses! Give me your kisses!” you cry with a pout.

With a burst of cheerful laughter that warms your heart and makes your belly flip, Shouto presses downward, capturing your lips with his. The contact is blissful, everything and more that you need. You eagerly kiss him back, making noises that are both sinful and so blessedly innocent as your arms wrap around his neck.

Shouto kisses you back with matching intensity, one elbow resting by your head, the other resting on your hip as he allows your tongue to press into his mouth. He lets you greedily take what you want, his thumb on your hip drawing nonsensical pictures. But as you shudder against him, completely overwhelmed by this all. Shouto probes his tongue into your mouth, gliding his wet, hot muscle against the roof of your mouth and the back of your teeth until your panting, unable to do anything but absorb him.

“So pretty, so cute when you’re like this. A beautiful doll for her daddy,” Shouto whispers into your mouth, and you can only moan in response. 

“I need daddy,” you speak, your glazed eyes unable to even look at Shouto. “I need daddy so bad.”

“Where does my princess need me?” Shouto speaks, his lips trailing down your slick chin and neck. “Right here?” he asks, sinking his teeth onto your neck and sucking softly.

“A-Aahhh~,” you shudder, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues to place hickey after hickey on your neck, your collarbones, and the spot right behind your ear that makes you melt. “Yes, I need you everywhere… I need daddy’s mouth and cummies in me.”

“Your boobs are so cute, baby girl,” Shouto whispers, and you nearly jump out of your skin when you notice that he’s nosing against your breasts. “So pretty, better than anything I could have hoped for.”

You whine loudly, your body arching off the bed as his hot tongue dips out and licks a pebbled nipple. You pant as he licks again, your fingers burying into his hair.

“Such beautiful nipples, you make your daddy so happy,” Shouto praises, and you gasp loudly as his mouth envelopes your nipple. Your cunt throbs with intriguing want, your socked feet traveling up the line of his leg as his teeth graze and move your nipple in his mouth. “You make me the proudest daddy ever.”

His fingers card down your stomach, trailing and lingering around your cunt, and yet never once touching it. It’s tactical, teasing, and mind spinning. Your clit spasms with needed attention, angry with the teasing, desperate for contact — for attention. You make a noise, something not quite human, unable to pull yourself from your growing fuzzy head as Shouto moves from one nipple to the next.

Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.

“Don’t tease me, daddy,” you whisper, hips circling, thrusting into the air where you wish his fingers were.

“Okay,” he promises, and as if he could read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your untouched yet demanding nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest once again feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, warm tongue, and spit sinking into your nerves. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name. And when you thought the teasing couldn’t get worse, his fingers finally land where you want it most.

On your clit.

“You’re perfect, angel; I love you so much.”

It happens then, like a warm blanket being placed over you — comforting, warm, making the pain in your body hum with only pleasure, and your body trembles with peaking need.

“I wanna… I wanna do more,” you coo, eyes heavy and feigning intoxication as you look up at your daddy. “I wanna please my daddy!”

Your daddy blinks at you, head tilting before a knowing look flashes across his eyes, and he smiles softly, fingers abandoning their spots to press gently against your cheeks. You don’t even mind, so excited and happy that he’s holding you.

“What do you want, sunshine?”

“Can I please suck daddy’s nipples?” you ask with a hopeful face, “He made me feel so good, and I — I wanna make my daddy feel good too!”

“You wanna suck daddy’s nipples? Okay.”

You giggle loudly as the world spins, and you gasp when you’re suddenly sitting straight up, your wet cunt pressing against his hip bone. You laugh lightly, a bell-like giggle, and your hands press to his chest. “That was so fun!”

“Was it—?”

Your daddy can’t finish his sentence because you caught sight of his dusty brown nipples and launched forward, capturing the soft tissue in your mouth. 

It tastes like your daddy, the salt and unique taste he has. And your tongue lashes at it, your cheeks hollowing as you suck at it some more. It hardens in your mouth, a sensation that has you breaking away from him with a beautiful gasp.

“Am I doing a good job?!” you ask, looking at the pretty pink flush on your daddy’s face as he heaves slightly, flustered and a bit out of breath. “My nipples do that when you do a job, daddy!”

“You’re doing so well,” your daddy informs you, and you laugh excitedly. “Do you want… do you want daddy’s cock now?” 

“Daddy’s cock?” you question, heat rushing to your face at the naughty word. “W-What does that mean?”

“Daddy’s cock is how I can make you feel good,” daddy explains, his fingers trailing up and down your thighs, playing with the hem of your socks. 

You giggle as he snaps at it playfully.

“You’ve been doing such a good job, sunshine, and daddy’s cock hurts and wants to be in you.”

“In me?”

“Mmhm, and when it’s in you, you can get daddy’s cummies,” daddy smiles softly. “You want daddy’s cummies, remember?”

You think about it, unsure if you had wanted it, but then you remember that you had said it.

“Will daddy’s cummies help me? My stomach feels funny, a-and I feel wet.”

Daddy nods fast, his body shifting so that he’s in a sitting position and your wet chest presses against him. It’s a sensation you’re unfamiliar with, and you make an embarrassing squeaking noise at the feeling.

“I promise it’ll make you feel better, sunshine.”

You think about it some more, your arms wrapping around his neck as you think. But soon enough, you find yourself giggling and nodding, “I trust my daddy!”

“I’m so glad you do. Daddy’s so glad his baby girl trusts him.”

And the next thing you know, you’re back on your back, and your daddy looms over you, spreading your legs wide apart. You look down at gasp at the sight of daddy’s cock.

“It’s so big!” you shriek, “Where is that going, daddy?!”

“This is going right… there,” daddy emphasizes, pressing two fingers into a part of your body that has you speechless. It’s an intrusion you’re almost unfamiliar with, and yet it makes your head spin and your body hot with need and action from him. “I promise it’ll feel so good; I’ll make you feel so good.”

“O-Okay,” you whimper, watching your daddy pull something against the length of his cock before pressing the swollen head to the entrance that made you feel funny in a good way. “I’m ready, daddy.”

“I’m so glad,” your daddy smiles, and with a gentle kiss to your temple, he presses his cock into you.

“DADDY!” you shriek as his cock pressed into you, filling you out and stretching you out completely. The sensation is overwhelming, piercing pleasure slamming through your body as your arms and legs wrap around him in a vice-like grip. 

Daddy’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in close as his hips begin rutting in and out of you. The sensation, the rhythm, is constant and is intoxicating. The creak of the mattress and the loud, grateful cries of your mouth into the crook of his neck fills the room. And then he shifts you just a bit, his hips able to thrust further, more profound, into you, and a wanton, nearly voluptuous noise escapes your mouth. 

“Kiss me, daddy!” you cry, head thrusting back into the mattress, pleasure saturating so deep in your brain you can’t think anymore. “Kiss me, please! Kiss me, kiss me, kissmekissmekiss—”

His mouth is over yours, hot pants and wrecked breathing is passed between open parted lips. Your tongue pushes against his teeth, unable to find his tongue as your hips swirl and thrust up into his thrust cock. Every thrust sends daddy’s cock deeper into your pulling, demanding cunt, stretching you out, sending you further out in an unimaginable way. Your walls spasm uncontrollably, clenching and tightening without a single input. 

But soon, daddy’s shifting up onto his knees, and you can only wildly cry out for him when his arms shift from keeping you close to pressing behind your knees and shoving your knees into the mattress by your shoulders. The most primal, deranged moan rips from your mouth as the stretch sends his cock to a place in your cunt you never could imagine existing. You shake like a child against him, fingers scraping at his back, tearing his skin as your heels dig into his back. The head of his cock buries and brushes against your cervix, making you cry and see colors you’ve never seen before in your life. Your praises for your daddy are endless, and his powerful pounding sends the headboard of your bed crashing against the wall harder and harder.

“How are you feeling, bunny?” Daddy grunts, his face contorted with pleasure and the need to look at you. “Do you feel my cock in you? Can you feel daddy’s cock hitting your cervix?”

“D-Daddy, I-I — ohhh my god!” you sob, your hips pathetically rutting up and down against his cock, stupidly furthering how deep his cock can go, your cervix melting with pleasure, making you oh so dizzy. You can only blabber. “Daddy’s cock is so big, it’s so good! It’s making my stomach feel so funny! I’m so scared!”

“Don’t be scared,” your daddy pleads against your neck, though his speed and strength doesn’t lessen. “Your stomach feeling funny is a good thing; it’s supposed to happen! I promise you, this is how it's supposed to happen. Okay?”

“Okay, daddy, okay, okay, okay,” your voice lessened to a senseless babble. Your sentences blurring together, and your cheek pressed into the mattress, and drool pooled from your lips. 

His pace is completely irreplicable now; every maddening powerful thrust of his hips sends the headboard into the wall. The wet slapping echoing throughout the room when he pierces into you almost drowned out both of your senseless cries. 

It almost scared you, the sensation foreign, but his gentle reminder that this was normal, that you would be okay, kept you from spiraling. Slick erupts in your cunt, an overwhelming heat that throbs right in your core, coating your thighs and your stomach, and with every slam of his hips, it grows only more. 

Intensifying. 

Exhilarating. 

The temperature of your body sizzles off you in immense heat. His lips press against yours, a maddening escape of lust and need exchanging between your parted lips. Your saliva is everywhere, covering both of your faces — connecting them even when you part. But that didn’t stop him; it only fueled him to kiss you entirely, wordlessly praising you, engulfing you with his mouth, daring you with his tongue.

You were barely keeping up with his snapping hips, your mouth begging for more when he suckled on your tongue.

“It’s feeling so funny!” you suddenly cry as your daddy’s fingers pinch and rub against something between your legs that sends electric waves throughout every nerve in your body. “I feel like Imma pee, daddy! I can’t stop it! I can’t stop!”

“It’s okay, let it happen,” your daddy grunts into your ear, and with that, the calming steady of his voice, you let the heat, the tightness in your stomach you feel like is piss, slam through you. 

A tingling, white noise power sensation slams through your entire body. You arch into your daddy, your scream dying on your tongue as your body thumps with a full-body heartbeat. It sends your toes curling, your fingernails scarring his back, and a pathetic, pleasure-derived sob released into your daddy’s sweaty neck. 

His thrusting keeps up for a bit, letting your clenching and relaxing cunt finish him until his thrusts border sloppy, and with a final thrust that has your fingers trembling, he stops, collapsing onto you.

You don’t know what happens next, only that for one moment too long, it’s silent with only heaving breathing and incredibly warm body heat. Your eyes close, and you’re out before you even know it.

.

.

.

You open your eyes to a dark room.

Shouto is next to you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he holds a wet, warm cloth to your body, gently cleaning you up.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, your voice scratchy and nearly blown. “Did I drop and pass out after cumming?”

Shouto jumped at your voice, looking up at your face with a tired but satisfied grin, “You did.”

You laugh softly, not quite humorlessly, not entirely because you were amused. You sit up, groaning at how your lower body screams in pain; well, it seemed that your drop really did hide any pain.

“That was fun,” you grin, eyes closing as Shouto presses the cloth to your neck, cleaning the sweat and saliva there. “Glad I decided to speak up on that — ow!”

You pouted as Shouto retreated his pinching fingers from your ribcage.

“You didn’t speak up; you acted out and then spoke up,” Shouto chuckled, sighing as he leaned backward, allowing for you to stretch your tired limbs.

“I still managed to say my truth,” you grin, taking the wet cloth from his hands and focusing on his body. Shouto sat there, still and silent, as you gingerly cleaned… everything off him.

“Well, if we’re saying our truths, can I ask something?” Shouto murmurs, so unlike his typical confident demur. You pause for a moment before nodding, continuing to clean the broken skin on his body. “Would you like to be my girlfriend? I-I know this is cheesy and all, but I feel like I want you outside of our arrangement, outside of the dynamic.”

You can’t help but laugh, making Shouto look panicked, even if for a bit.

“I thought I was the only one.”

.

.

.

“Sero, psst, Sero!” Mina whispers loudly, hitting her friend in the back of the head with an eraser.

“Shit, what?” Sero hisses, a slight annoyance in his face from being hit.

“Look!”

Sero follows Mina’s pointed finger over where you and Shouto sat, in the middle of your own world despite it being smack in the middle of the lecture. He scanned your bodies more intensely and froze at the sight of purple and red bruises on both your necks.

“Is that—?!”

“YES!!!”

“HOLY SHIT! WE CALLED IT!”

“Sero!” boomed the voice of Aizawa, their scariest professor ever. “Is there something you would like to share with the class?”

Sero freezes, an awkward smile blooming on his face as he shrugs, “I’m just noticing some hickies today, that’s all!”

There could have been no casualties in this admittance; after all, Aizawa didn’t give two shits about hickies on university students. But the loud, panicked “shit!” coming from you was undoubtedly damning. 

Shouto snickered, his fingers tugging at the collar of your shirt as his fingers brushed against the collection of bruises, “I think they look nice.”

[enbysiriusblack]

Marlene grabbed Mary's hand and pulled her downstairs, "Come on! I need to drink and dance!"

The two ran downstairs; Marlene dressed as Columbia, and Mary dressed as McGonagall.

Lily was still getting ready in the dorms, finishing her makeup as a zombie princess leia, when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

James entered the dorm, dressed as nearly headless nick, and jumped onto Marlene's bed.

He looked up at the Suzie Quatro poster that was placed just above the bed, "She's a bit obsessed with her."

Lily turned around, "I think she plays her so much, I've memorised every single song by now... you look nice."

James grinned and sat up, "Do you find Sir Nicholas attractive, Evans?"

She laughed and turned back around, "Only when you dress up as him."

"Your makeup looks amazing compared to Remus', he barely looks like a zombie."

Lily huffed and shook her head, "I told him to come here so we could help him out, but he refused saying he could do it himself."

James shook his head with a grin, starting to come over, "He certainly can't."

"Have you seen Mary yet? You'll love her costume so mu-"

Lily's words were cut off as James reached over to kiss her.

The door opened again and Peter groaned in the doorway.

"They're in here!", He shouted before walking further into the room and sitting on Mary's bed.

Sirius' head peered around the doorframe and he grinned as he looked inside, "Evans! Who do you think makes a hotter Sir Nick, Peter or James? Don't let the fact you're dating James persuade you to lie. Because you know the true hotter Sir Nick."

Sirius blatantly pointed at Peter and mouthed to Lily 'it's Pete."

Lily looked at both Peter and James befofe squinting her eyes and declaring, "no comment."

"Booo!" Sirius shouted.

At that, Mary and Remus walked in.

Mary collapsed onto her bed next to Peter, "Marlene's gushing over Dorcas' Magenta costume... she's going to be a while."

"Mary. Mary. Is that what I think it is?" James asked, excitedly.

She grinned and got up to spin, "It is indeed."

Sirius and James both ran over to her.

"Can you give people detentions? Give James a detention!"

"No, give them one! For being a massive prat!"

"Thought that was meant to be you!"

Remus sat down next to Lily, "How? How the fuck did you make yourself look like that?"

Remus was dressed at Luke Skywalker but with a grey painted face and badly painted red circles under his eyes.

Lily laughed, "Talent, which you do not possess, young Skywalker."

"Fuck off!"

She laughed harder and laid her head on Remus' shoulder. Looking at Remus and herself in the mirror, with her friends fighting and messing around in the background.

"I fucking love Halloween."

Remus snorted, "I know, Lils."

•

Lily planned to send photos of Hari, dressed up in his little pumpkin onesie, to all her still alive friends and mentors. He looked adorable.

Lily planned to watch whatever horror film was on tv as soon as Hari fell asleep, curled up with an absolutely terrified James that still thought everything on tv was real.

Lily planned to store the remains of their pumpkin in a tupperware tub for James to make food with the next morning.

Lily planned to send a pile of sweets with her next letters to everyone. Homemade. They were already made and in little bags, ready to be given out.

Lily planned. For things that never came. And her joy for Halloween was clouded by death.