#they are kind of like the Wiggles in the silly vibe

[123countwithme]

Imagination Movers anyone?

[infriga]

Some people have been saying that live action Sanji feels a little bit more soft and endearing than manga Sanji, but they can't pinpoint why because he does still feel like Sanji. Some people think it's just Taz's acting, and he does do a great job, but I don't think that's the main reason. Others think his flirting has been turned down a bit, but honestly it hasn't really? He still openly flirts with Nami when they first meet, and he still says things like "women are a mystery to be unraveled" and other goofy simp stuff. And his kindness like being willing to feed the hungry no matter what is obviously something that was always there (it's why Luffy chose him in the first place. Hell, in the manga he chooses Sanji as his cook before he ever actually tastes Sanji's cooking, simply because he sees Sanji feed Gin and realizes what kind of person Sanji is).

But there is a difference! And I've figured out what it is, because there IS one manga/anime Sanji trait that wasn't present in live action Sanji: his hatred of men.

Live action Sanji isn't a misandrist anymore 😳

[fandxmslxt69]

Alrighty! Lunch break time! Thots incoming!!!

*Ehem* Imagine, if you will, being tangled in the sheets with Loki. You’re both in Asgard, and the stars are just starting to twinkle in the night sky. There’s a soft breeze wafting in through the ornate palace windows, and the two of you are comfortable in each other’s embrace… making love, obviously~

I can’t stop thinking about the way the soft satin sheets would slip around us. So soft and delicate between your fingers amidst your throes of passion. There’s something inherently godly about it, I think. Like, Loki wants to worship you like the goddess he sees you as. The whole lounging while being hand fed grapes kind of vibe, if that makes sense.

Anyways, when you’re done, you’re not really done. You just keep rolling over for the next round until the sun peeks from the horizon…

So, those are my thots for today! 🤭

oh beloved...i am thinking thinking things....

a littleeee different but i loved the hazy 'drunk on love and pleasure' vibes and i just couldnt help it

more under the cut (warnings: silly cute fluffy SMUT.)

You hum sleepily, feeling the press of your lover's soft lips on your shoulder, trailing down your arm. You had settled into bed just a little ago after a few...exciting rounds with Loki in the shower.

The bed dipped as he settled into bed behind you, arms wrapped around your waist. You were immediately hyperaware of the fact that he had decided not to put on any clothing after stepping out of the shower. It didn't help that you wore nothing either.

You wiggle around, turning to face him with a happy smile. "Hi," You whisper, a stupid smile growing on your lips.

He smiled back, and oh it took your breath away. Something about today was very different; you couldn't get enough of each other. Loki ended up cancelling all his plans for the day, and you both stayed inside, tossing and turning and getting drunk on the feeling of one another. And yet after eternity, you remained constantly bewitched by Loki. You could never grow tired of him, of the feeling of him.

His ethereal beauty, especially his smile. The way his eyes twinkled with that telltale mischief, the ease and comfort that oozed off him, the trademark smirk that seemed reserved for you.

You snuggled closer to him and his hold on you tightened as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Hello darling wife,"

You ran a hand over his chest, enjoying the way his muscles contracted under your touch. You felt so safe, so full of joy in the comfort of your bed.

"Hi," You said again. Loki chuckled softly, his hand drawing circles on the dip of your hips. You leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

It was obviously the wrong move, because it wasn't for another thirty seconds before Loki was kissing you senseless; all tongue and lazy, messy kisses. It made you squirm as you rolled over on top of him and he sat up slightly, hands roaming your body slowly. Your hands raked through his messy curls, soft pants and groans escaping the two of you.

You could feel him growing hard, and you knew this was how it would go for the rest of the night. You'd wake up in pain tomorrow, and deliciously sore, but you also knew that meant Loki would stay with you for the day again.

You moan quietly, grinding yourself against Loki's length.

Tomorrow could wait. Outside, the night was still young, stars beginning to twinkle on Asgard's sky.

You could reconsider your choices when the sun returns to the sky. For now, you kissed Loki deeper as his hands planted themselves firmly on your hips, sure to leave marks to be added to ones already covering your body.

For now, you could just get lost in the feeling of your husband as he entered you slowly, a deep moan rumbling through him, and the pure look of pleasure on his face as you lifted yourself and slowly sank back down.

For tonight, you could just stay drunk on each other.

[gaybananabread]

@therealjacobcustos I feel like Tadashi would be kind of ticklish (the ask broke so tag)

🎧👾Tadashi Hamada Tkl Headcanons🤖🔧

AN: Sorry it took so long to respond to this, wanted to get the FS out of the way first! Kinda a flimsy excuse, but I've been wanting to do some HCs and Tadashi is such a brain happy character, so here's my brain dump!

General:

Okay so this boy is absolutely a switch.

He'd love messing with Hiro, but can anyone say that someone as bubbly as him wouldn't like to be tickled?

No, no they cannot.

He would absolutely program Baymax with some tickling capabilities.

Remember how he can produce a small flash drive from his finger? Yeah, imagine little nails/quill tips specifically designed for cheer-up tickles.

It's actually been found in scientific studies that tickling improves the mood and can boost our immune systems.

Of course Tadashi would stumble upon an article or something and use that as valid reasoning for the features.

Lee:

He gives eager lee vibes.

Wiggling your fingers at him? He's already giggling and squirming in his seat.

Worst spots are his knees, sides and forearms. He *loves* belly tickles.

Isn't shy about liking tickles at all. He's not gonna outright announce it to the world, but he wouldn't deny it if someone points it out.

Lee mood? Everyone close to him immediately knows.

Stretching his arms above his head, man-spreading on the couch, sitting with his arms behind his head, constantly kicking someone he’s sitting by, TANK TOPS

His laugh is the purest sound around. Bright, bubbly and completely unrestrained

Depending on the amount of lee, he might just lay there and giggle his heart out.

Loves tickling as a bonding activity and cheer-up method.

Despite all that, he’d have a helluva time asking for/admitting anything.

“Do you like this, Tadashi?” ��I-I, uh…that's not- mmphf…”

Blushes brighter than the red sun, though it definitely takes some heavy teasing.

As for Baymax…

He’d definitely give his bud some special care methods.

A few self-indulgent programs here for when he's sad, some tools (see Gen. above), and generally just fluff with the marshmallow bot.

Will intentionally bug Hiro until he starts a tickle war. If he's in a lee mood, he'll sass the boy until he goes for a bad spot

Ler:

You'd better run for the hills-

Teasing, sassy, laughs along with his lees. 50/50 switch, swings either way based on circumstance

His favorite target would have to be Hiro. Staying up all night to work on a bot? Tire-out tickles. Refusing to go eat dinner in favor of productivity? Persuasive tickles. Bumming out about life? You know it: cheer-up tickles.

With the Nerd Crew, it's usually just sly pokes and squeezes when they reach for tools or adjust bolts.

If somebody's way stressed or hasn't slept, though? He'll lovingly wreck their shit <3

King of silly teases ♚

“Coochie coo, giggles!” “Oh, sorry, is this spot *really* ticklish? Does it tickle *really* bad when I do this?” “That's gotta be one of the cutest laughs ever! Thanks for sharing so much of it~”

If he's actually trying, can and will dominate a tickle fight.

Gets his energy back scary fast. You think you've won?

Guess again.

He'll wait until you're bragging or looking away to pounce, beginning the dreaded Round 2.

Loves it when people ask for tickles.

You come to him, for any reason, and lay on his lap / expose your spots? His heart melts before he lovingly obliges.

Gives amazing aftercare. Cuddles, back rubs, drowning in kisses if you're his s/o.

May or may not have developed little pieces of tickle tech to mess with his loved ones. Be weary of random gifts or surprise lab invites!

[spacecadettt]

so i was going through the entirety of prime defenders again and bizly had asked the boys what kind of music their characters would listen to, and condi (unless I'm misreading it) basically said that vyncent wouldn't really have an opinion on the music of prime, and that got me thinking 🤔

i imagine in the early days, the boys having the music talk, about what they like and shit as a means to try to get closer. and when vynce says that he doesn't listen to music??? dakota and william are baffled. astounded. blindsighted, even. william had at least assumed that vyncent would bring up the music of his home world, but he just,,, didnt.

"you really just have those headphones to cover your elf ears at school?" dakota asks.

"you mean my earmuffs?" vyncent responds. "i didn't know they did anything other than cover your ears."

so the other two make it their mission to find the music that vyncent likes. subtly playing songs that they like in their rooms, just loud enough to be heard through the paper thin walls of the base. when they're in the car together, they take note of which songs he smiles at and bobs his head to, and they add it to the playlist that they're trying to make for him. they send him links of specific ones, and if he responds positively to it, they add those too.

eventually, this culminates into dakota and william exploring new genres in an effort to find vyncent's vibe. william starts finding more singer-songwriter and stripped back music he likes, and dakota finds out that he really vibes with dubstep and DNB.

after weeks of research and carefully gauging vyncent's reactions, dakota and william end up presenting the playlist they specifically curated for him, but it seems to be more of a mix of all of their tastes than any of them anticipated.

"should we show him now?" dakota asks william as they finish with the final songs.

"yeah, now's as good a time as any," he responds, looking down at his phone. the words prime defenders chaos are lit up on the screen, followed by an extensive tracklist.

they both walk up to vyncent's door and william knocks. after two seconds with no reply, dakota knocks again, a little too loud and a little too fast. he's clearly excited.

vyncent opens up to see his two friends looking at him suspiciously and quirks up an eyebrow. "uh, hello? wha-"

"we have something for you!" dakota interjects, practically bouncing as he waves his arms in front of him.

"yeah, we made something for you," william smiles, and vyncent waves them in.

they all sit on vyncent's bed, and william reaches to put a pair of headphones over vyncent's ears. he reels back and puts a hand up.

"just trust me," william assures.

the headphones go on and william presses play, and a familiar intro fills vyncent's ears. he smiles broadly at his friends.

"I REALLY LIKED THIS ONE," he shouts, not realizing that the other two can hear him just fine. they just laugh as vyncent starts to tap his foot and move his hands in time with the song.

they all end up just starting a listening party, laying down across vyncent's bed, all with their earbuds in and listening to the same playlist. no words could be spoken to express how much vyncent loved the gesture. the silly grin that wouldn't leave his face was confirmation enough to dakota and william that he was in heaven right now. his eyes close as he wiggles to the rhythms, holding his hands up to cup around the speakers of his headphones.

dakota nudges william, who opens his eyes to look at him. the redhead simply raises his fist and bumps it with his friend.

"mission accomplished," dakota mouths to william. the ghost boy simply nods as another song starts.

"OHMYGOD I REMEMBER THIS ONE TOO," vynce shouts as he shoots up, looking over to his friends.

seeing their warm expressions, he tackles them both into the bed in a big group hug. "THANK YOU SO MUCH."

thank the gods it was muffled by the blankets and their earpieces, or dakota and william would go deaf.

[soleilnomoon]

geto suguru x fem reader | issa toxic affair, y'all.

6.2k words (i know, i know), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni; angst city, angst angst city biiitch (yk the vibes) & smut (obvy); feat. cute stuff like a lil' degradation, toxic ass relationship, a lil infidelity, obsessive love & jealousy, lovers 2 exes 2 enemies 2 lovers, public indecency, hand job, oral (f receiving), knife play, a lil bit of blood kink, alcohol, geto is a certified asshole & but reader gets him back, yandere reader bc i love being toxic, gojo makes an appearance! also idk other stuff probably idr ok; also reader is black bc i said she is. this is for @510hz's how to be a heartbreaker collab event (ty so much for letting me participate, i had fun truly). this was inspired by mariana's "power & control"; there's also a lil inspo from "the glory" in there, you'll see. it took me forever but i survived, i hope y'all survive reading this 🤭 (if u see typos/grammatical errors no u didn't)

“you horrify me. but at the same time, / i horrify myself. we are horrible.” – hélène cixous

there’s a name for the disease you have; it’s called foolishness, or, in layman’s terms: love.

your mother warned you long ago, to guard your heart — to ensure that no man could penetrate the thick walls encasing it — yet there you are, a silly, pathetic thing scurrying behind a man who would readily cast you aside if it suited him. you truly did resist him at first; you rebuffed his advances with polite smiles and curt responses, yet he persisted daily and, in hindsight, obsessively.

it’s in his nature, after all.

a man like geto suguru simply does not concede if his pride is on the line — and your initial rejection did, in fact, bruise his ego; although, he’ll never openly admit that.

when he does manage to wiggle his way into your heart, with his charming smiles, small gestures that you somehow misinterpret as kindness, you steadily fall for him. it’s not your fault, not really. geto is just that damn good at figuring people out; and with you, it wasn’t difficult. he found it remarkably easy to sway you, he almost felt bad.

almost.

the first few months are pure bliss; he picks you up promptly for dates, takes you to nice restaurants in the city, pays for spa days and shopping sprees — buys you things you never really allowed yourself to buy on your own, surprises you with lavish floral arrangements that make you cry needlessly over how tragically romantic he’s being. and, suddenly, your heart, which was so strongly protected, becomes vulnerable and falls under his control. it flutters around helplessly in the gilded cage he’s crafted for it — a too-tight fit, where every time you exhale you feel the thick bars pressing tightly and you suffocate — but still, love makes you think that all of this is worth it in the end.

as long as geto calls you his, that’s all that matters.

when he calls your phone, you pick up on the first ring, eager and desperate —to hear the dulcet tones embedded in his voice, the words saccharine and carefully picked; things you’ve always wanted to be told, he whispers them all to you before you fall asleep.

but the thing about geto is, boredom is never too far away from him.

it wraps itself around his arms one morning, slithers along and drenches his skin, completely warping his sense of morality — making him much more severe and uncaring than he normally is. all your cute, quirky traits become bothersome to him; he tires of your laugh, doesn’t care to see that sparkle in your eyes whenever he shows up at your front door, and listening to you drone on and on about things that you like bores him to tears.

when he fucks you, it’s impassively, as if it’s something he needs to tick off his list of weekly duties, rather than something he chooses to do because he genuinely wants to be intimate. you don’t question it at first, but it becomes painfully obvious — and awkward — when he leaves every time, not bothering to kiss you goodnight or even look your way. your mind is cruel one morning, when you reflect on how sex with geto is mostly about him getting off and not you; it never bothered you before, but as the months go on, it starts one of many tiny cracks in his veneer.

the rejection is unbearable — tangible in the way it makes you sluggish and depressed — but you deal with it; you must, after all, he’s the love of your life. you simply can’t imagine being with anyone else now.

geto becomes the very man your mother warned you about, but you ignore it without question.

love is work, you remind yourself for the umpteenth time as you sit in the back of your favorite restaurant, checking the time repeatedly and seeing that he still hasn’t shown. you’re in a modest dress with a slit down the side and you’ve already downed two glasses of wine without him. it’s been forty minutes, the server keeps checking on you, giving you pitying looks despite your smiles and insistence that your boyfriend is definitely on his way.

but the longer you sit there, the less sure of that you are.

eventually you leave; they don’t charge you for a thing and you thank them for their kindness — pity, really — and head home. you try calling geto and get his voicemail again; so you leave yet another teary message, this one more incoherent than the last two, and toss your phone onto your vanity before crying yourself the sleep. you don’t know what to do with this feeling — the hopelessness is eating you alive; or maybe it’s just the wine making you overly sensitive.

geto knows he’s an asshole and relishes in it.

he has his notifications silenced while he’s downtown with a few close friends, partying in an exclusive lounge, drinking until his head grows heavy. he doesn’t remember how he gets back to his place, and barely remembers who he fucked that night, but he does have the common decency to kick them out come morning. he’s hospitable like that. his head throbs as he scrolls through his phone, promptly ignoring the twelve texts from you and the fifteen missed calls. gojo called him heartless last night, which he thought was ridiculous — he has a heart, it just doesn’t always work properly; geto now assumes gojo was referring to his mistreatment of you.

something about that nags at him a little, so he decides to play nice and call you back. the phone continues to ring as he lounges on the plush couch in his living room, causing him to frown; very strange. you normally pick up for him right away, but you’re not answering. he should be concerned, but he chalks it up to you sleeping and decides to try again in an hour.

after his third time calling, annoyance turns into anger which fuels his petty jealousy.

what could you possibly be doing that would require you to ignore him — him — of all people?

“y/n,” he says as calmly as he can while his hand grips his phone tightly, it’s his fourth voicemail, but he doesn’t really care. “i don’t know what game you’re playing at, but i assure you… you won’t win.” he doesn’t elaborate past that, and instead throws his phone at the nearest wall — not bothering to pick it up once it clatters onto the hardwood floor. his anger surprises him; subduing certain emotions is an art for him, so all of this feels very new and uncomfortable.

he tells himself this weakness is only temporary, and that you’ll come to your senses too. except, you don’t. you don’t call him back; you don’t bother texting, and you don’t listen to his voicemails until three days later. when geto finds you, you’re in the middle of rewatching your favorite show for the tenth time, eating leftover pizza in your pajamas.

with his nose wrinkled, geto shuffles through your apartment, taking note of the pile of dishes in your kitchen and the way you’ve completely let go of yourself. he’s appalled that a woman like you has succumbed to the frivolities that accompanies hurt feelings. he even says as much to you when you fail to greet him or acknowledge his presence.

it's when he turns off the tv, that you blink several times, sluggish and confused before realizing that the beautiful man before you is not a figment of your imagination.

“suguru,” you sound his name out like it’s unfamiliar, your tongue thick from keeping quiet these past few days; your mind’s a mess, you’re still reeling from the betrayal of him clearly abandoning you, discarding you like you’re just a toy that he’s long forgotten on the street. he snaps his fingers impatiently in front of your face to get your attention again.

“wh-what is it?”

he frowns again. “what do you mean ‘wh-what is it’?” his mockery of your voice and his accompanying sneer is unbecoming of him, you think, but you don’t say that out loud; instead you put down the pizza you were nibbling and yawn languidly.

“you don’t have to be an ass,” you remark carefully, finally glancing up at him as though you’re seeing him for the first time. love muddled your vision, but now you can see geto suguru for all that he is. a liar, a conman, a shitty human being; but most importantly, he’s still the love of your life. you take that last bit seriously; maybe a little too seriously.

but love has a way of making you foolish in ways that are incomprehensible to others.

geto narrows his eyes at you before his lips twitch and he laughs at your insolence. “okay, that’s fair. i did stand you up, after all.”

you turn back to the tv and shrug, flicking a few crumbs off your shirt. “doesn’t matter. what’s done is done.”

for some reason, your apathy agitates him greatly. your tone is off — detached, devoid of the usual joviality that you have whenever he’s around; he figures that he deserves that, but he knows you won’t be mad at him for long. you never are.

“don’t get ahead of yourself, y/n,” his words drift through the air, venomous and well-practiced — he’s mastered the art of tearing down others without even trying — his annoyance reaches its peak when you ignore him and he exhales loudly, as if the entire situation has bored him to death. “since you obviously don’t give a damn about my presence,” he starts, not bothering to hide his malice or irritation, “i’ll give you what you want.”

which is space. permanently — at least, that’s what he thinks you want anyway. he slams the copy of your apartment key onto the coffee table — something that would’ve made you flinch days ago, but you’re so numb you barely notice.

it’s unbelievable that after a year, this is how you treat him; maybe it’s for the best that he’s breaking up with you. after all, he’d never be able to tolerate you having the upper hand in the breakup. still, it does concern him a bit that you’re not reacting in the way you usually would; did he honestly break your heart that badly that you’ve taken to retreating to the far recesses of your mind? not that it matters to him; you served your purpose and wore out your welcome eight months ago.

he just needed a reason to end it.

once he leaves, you feel like you can breathe again. and after a few minutes, you realize what just happened. you scramble off the couch, heart beating rapidly, palm slick with perspiration as you yank open the door and call out to him.

but he’s long gone; already driven off, ready to take on the world without you.

you wear your rejection like a bruise that won’t ever heal; each word said, each call and text ignored, is like a punch in the same spot over and over.

will you ever be able to move on properly?

it’s not really his problem if you can or can’t get over him, as he’s already moved on within the hour. the thing about geto is, he always assumes he’s the one in control — that he holds all the cards in his hands; but he isn’t. he forgets that you’re entirely too observant for your own good, curious, resourceful, and lethal when provoked long enough. you foolishly grab your car keys and drive to his place in the middle of the night; you ignore traffic lights, drive faster than necessary, swerve in and out of traffic as a fit of madness course through your veins.

love continues to delude you into thinking that there’s a way to fix it all; there has to be, it’s the only thing you can believe in right now.

you think about ringing his doorbell, think about calling and texting, think about just banging on his window and demanding he let you in. but you don’t. instead, you lean against your car, dark, heavy clouds looming over that part of the city as rain comes down hard and practically oppressively.

but you don’t move.

you stand there, shivering; soaked from head to toe, hands balled into fists — his last words playing over and over in your mind, like a song you can’t seem to forget. and every time you hear his voice, your heart shatters a little more; you imagine he’s having fun inside, laughing with gojo and whatever new flavor he’s decided to whet his appetite with. you want to give him the benefit of the doubt; maybe he’s having a bad week? maybe he didn’t mean to break up with you; but the longer you try to convince yourself, the sharper his betrayal becomes.

the truth is bitter, inedible, and harsh; it clamps around your mind as the remnants of your heart morphs into ash.

you bite your tongue hard enough to draw blood, but you don’t feel it; how can you, after all that’s happened?

eventually, you hop into your car and drive to your best friend’s house — she’s the only one you can go to, now that you’ve realized that geto is serious about leaving you. after pouring your heart out and downing a few more glasses of wine, your best friend takes you by the shoulders and shakes you repeatedly.

“y/n,” she says calmly, eyes soft and warm, “honestly, babe, you need to move on from him. is he worth all of this trouble?” you consider her question, roll your bottom lip in between your teeth before answering properly.

“of course, he is,” you say quietly, and then a little louder, “my love for him is so strong that i actually think i hate him.” you’ve never seen your best friend so speechless in your life, but there she is, unable to formulate an appropriate enough response to talk you out of this.

but the thing is, as soon as those words leave your mouth, it finally clicks; all the pieces to the jigsaw puzzle set perfectly in place. how could you have been so foolish?

you love him so much that you hate him, and your hatred is so strong that it can only be perceived as love. it’s irrational, maddening, incredibly toxic; but you revel in it. you know what you need to do, you just need time to do it.

days blend into weeks, and weeks to months; you sell your soul to get back your dignity, that determination that geto stupidly overlooked continuously fuels your quest for revenge. you disappear from the city, change your phone number, leave your apartment, and become a nonthreatening ghost from geto’s past. he forgets about you every time he sleeps with someone else, forgets about you whenever he goes on vacation, forgets about you as he whispers the same sweet things to another over and over and over again.

his ego is something to be marveled, and he feels a little unstoppable these days.

six months later, geto finds himself at a stuffy gala — one that his company’s holding to legally siphon money from the upper 1% under the guise of philanthropy — and spends most of the night dodging gojo’s questions over another failed relationship.

“you really don’t think you’re the problem?” gojo says in between sips of champagne, eyeing his best friend through his dark shades, and smiling as if he already knows the answer to that particular question.

geto lets out a frustrated groan and rolls his eyes. “i’m not doing this with you.” because the last thing he needs, is gojo killing his buzz. he glances at the people in attendance, dark eyes flicking over each guest, seemingly uninterested in any of them until you walk in.

he’s not sure it’s you at first, as your beauty captivates him in a way that doesn’t make sense to him. you’re in a pair of heels that look equal parts elegant and enticing, a shimmering, gold gown with a plunging neckline and incredibly high slit. the color offsets the warm undertones of your rich, brown skin that seems silky and otherworldly under all the lights in the room. geto blinks several times, almost as if he can’t believe that it’s you. and, if it wasn’t for gojo making comments about how he didn’t realize you had curves like that, geto might’ve believed you were a figment of his imagination.

how the tables turn.

your date escorts you to a table towards the back, one that’s close enough that geto can watch you properly. something about you is different. he’s not sure if it’s the confidence you exude as you smile coyly at some of the other guests, plump lips curving upward whenever another man asks to make your acquaintance. you keep your head held high, graceful, as if you belong with that crowd — even though geto knows you don’t. you’d never be able to come to an event like this on your own, but he isn’t upset about that.

what he’s upset at, is your date’s hand lingering on your thigh, thumb caressing your knee as he leans over to whisper something in your ear; that’s your cue to smile demurely and swat at his hand. the laugh is well timed — you even throw your head back, offering geto a full view of your elongated neck and round breasts that cling to the fabric of your gown. you excuse yourself under the guise of going to the restroom, and walk past geto without glancing at him — it’s difficult, you so badly want to turn and watch his reaction, but you keep strong, hips swaying as you take the first hallway on your left.

he’s not sure if it’s curiosity, jealousy, or insanity that drives him to get out of his seat and stalk after you. geto was done with you, he knew that — you knew that — but there he is, chasing you like some lovesick teen that can’t seem to get their unrequited crush out of their head. thankfully, the hallway is empty, so when he rounds the corner, he finds you standing there, checking out your reflection in your compact mirror. you feign surprise when you realize someone’s there, one that morphs into temporary confusion before you smile sweetly at your ex-boyfriend.

“well, isn’t this a fun surprise,” you say airily, a sly smile tumbling onto your lips as you make your way over to him. he’s somehow forgotten how to breathe while simultaneously forgetting that you always looked like this — overwhelmingly beautiful and alluring — he just insisted you dress plain on purpose. you like that he’s speechless; you like that his eyes haven’t left you since you walked into the gala. when you get close enough that he can see just how long and thick your lashes are, he finally snaps out of his stupor — somewhat.

“y/n,” he says belatedly, a bit of awe and amusement coloring his voice, “i’m surprised to see you.” what he really wanted to say, was that he’s trying to remember why he broke up with you in the first place — because nothing comes to mind. not when you reach your hand to delicately tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear, not when you intentionally place your hand on his chest, and call out his name softly, almost like a whisper before you take a step back.

“i changed my number,” you say in order to drive the point home and pluck your new phone out of your clutch. “and i moved, but i’d love to catch up with you.” he doesn’t say anything when you type your contact information in his phone and when your lips brush against his cheek, he’s reminded of just how much he adored you initially. he wants to ask why you’ve suddenly come back, but the words stick to the roof of his mouth — thick and impossible to remove, slowly rotting through his common sense. it must be some absurd act of possession that has him pull you close enough to brush his lips against yours; you relish in the nostalgia of the moment, with memories of him kissing you spontaneously during your dates — after all, you’ve been in this position so many times before.

the difference? your claws are sharper, dipped in one of the most potent poisons in the world — hatred.

but you have a role to play now: the naïve ex-girlfriend, who knew nothing of the world before meeting him. geto’s ego knows no bounds when you part your lips for him effortlessly, back arching as he runs his hand down it; his fingers are cool against your exposed skin and you shiver from the contact. he smirks at that, liking that he can still get that sort of reaction out of you. time is essential now, so you kiss him suddenly — your lips soft, supple, and sweet as ever.

geto uses that opportunity to slip is tongue inside of your mouth and familiarizes himself with your taste. you whimper softly and he smirks, thinking that he’s somehow won you over all over again, especially when you drag your nails down the back of his neck, scratching his skin without a care. they’re much sharper than he’s known them to be, and while the sting is tolerable, it’s also annoying. yet he can’t seem to pry himself away; your body feels perfect against his, and you surprise him once again when you rub your hand against his cock. geto’s never known you to be that bold before — and in public too? your kiss transforms into something much demanding, and before he realizes it, you’ve unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants.

a heat passes through both of you — and you almost forget yourself as you fall into a familiar dance, kissing him fervently as you wrap your hand around his cock. it stiffens almost immediately, a painful reminder that he’s still impossibly attracted to you, despite what he told himself months ago. you get drunk off of the power you hold over him — the man who mercilessly crushed your heart and left you alone to deal with the aftermath — and have to remind yourself that you’re only supposed to tease him a bit.

his breathing grows uneven, and it’s comical how he’s forgotten that anyone can easily walk in on you two — he just doesn’t care. he’d fuck you in front of everyone just to prove a damn point. your hand strokes faster, twisting as it moves up and down his thick length, his skin hot and smooth, keeping you in a daze. it’s always been like that with you — getting so hopelessly caught up in him that you forget anything else exists.

a voice in the back of your mind tells you to slow down, but you ignore it — the thrill of feeling each jerk of his hips has you moaning into his mouth, breathlessly kissing him like you have all the time in the world.

except you don’t.

the reality of that hits you faster than you’d like, so you bite his lip hard enough to draw blood. you pull away after, almost innocently and lick the blood off of him. the move practically pushes him over the edge, and he has to tell himself that he shouldn’t try fucking you in that hallway. you do your best to catch your breath and blink slowly as you both look at each other. to give yourself a bit of an edge, you swipe your thumb against the tip of his cock and admire the precum on your hand. you bring it up your lips, tongue gliding against your skin to savor the taste of him. it’s a polarizing and captivating experience; something about that makes him want to kiss you all over again, but he refrains from doing so, instead focusing on tucking himself in and fixing his clothes properly.

if you were cruel, you’d take a picture of this moment — of geto with a slightly heaving chest, flushed cheeks, confusion etched on his face as if he doesn’t understand why he let himself get carried away like that. your lipstick is smeared prettily against his lips — red, intoxicating, and ominous.

you smile at that; happy that you’ve successfully integrated yourself into his life again.

“let’s… pick this up again sometime,” your voice has a strange lilt to it — coy and musical, dangerously sultry. his heart skips a beat, and he thinks he’s gone mad; geto doesn’t swoon or obsess the way others do for him. but you’re different now, much more interesting, and mysterious. he knows there’s something wrong with this picture, but he can’t seem to connect the dots just yet.

he doesn’t get another chance to talk to you, as your date keeps you busy most of the night; you don’t bother looking at geto until the end of the event, where you wiggle your fingers at him before leaving.

as soon as you get into your date’s car, you get a text message from a number you’ve memorized by heart and smile as you mentally list all the things you need to do before your revenge can be complete.

little does he know, you haven’t moved at all; you still own your old apartment, but you don’t stay there. you temporarily moved into your childhood friend’s place — a ritzy, luxurious high-rise apartment by the beach — while they travel for work out of the country. it’s all for show, of course; you need geto (and gojo, by extension) to think you’ve somehow elevated yourself financially, that you’re successfully integrated into similar social circles, that you can casually score invites to lavish events that cater to the wealthy elite. after changing out of your gown and into something comfortable, you decide to pay a visit to your old place; it’s mostly empty, save for your old bedroom.

you poured your savings into surveillance equipment, have monitors set up around the room, have hundreds of candid pictures of geto and the people he frequently associates with over the past six months plastered all along the walls. you’ve scribbled out his face in most of the pics, and have drawn lines and arrows, written incoherent notes to yourself — making connections and scenarios so that your contingency plans are unshakeable.

geto texts you again and you smile to yourself, loving the way you’ve already slithered into his mind after one brief conversation with him. he doesn’t realize you’ve been watching him all this time, doesn’t realize that you placed cameras in his home, doesn’t realize that you have unfiltered access to his computer and phone — it pays to have friends who dabble in those things.

you make some tea before sitting on the cushy computer chair as you watch geto stress over you not texting him back; you chuckle and spin around in your chair, elation building up in your chest, rattling that gilded cage around your heart. he’s so stupid, it’s almost too easy; you open the text thread with him, start typing out a bogus response for a few minutes, then delete it and leave him on read.

it takes him half an hour to really lose his mind over you not texting him back, and all you can do is laugh until tears fall out of your eyes.

you want him to fall so hopelessly in love with you, that you become his very reason for living and breathing. then you want to carve out his heart and leave him behind. a perfect plan, really; there are some kinks you still need to iron out, but you know, in time, that everything will go as planned.

uneasiness settles into geto’s stomach over the next few weeks; you barely text him back, and when he calls, you’re always busy. it’s foolish the way he’s pining after you; he knows it’s just because he hasn’t seen you in a long time, but something about you is just so… different. the way you abruptly cut conversations short with him, how you keep rescheduling lunch and dinner with him; how you intentionally let yourself be seen on social media with various men and women. and even when he wants to delete your number and block you, he can’t seem to do it.

because there’s no logical reason why he should be upset. you two aren’t dating anymore, this is just his lust-ridden brain taking hold of his common sense. or, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

when you do manage to see him for dinner one night, you tease him mercilessly and without remorse. at first, geto thinks he has control over the flow of the conversation. you keep blushing whenever he strokes your palm, giggle appropriately when he bumps his knee against yours, and act demure when he gives you permission to order anything off the menu. and you do; the guilt you used to feel is nowhere to be found, instead you thrive in the high that accompanies spending his money frivolously.

in return, you slide your foot up along his leg — slow and tenuous, the first course in your act to capture his heart completely — flirt heavily without restriction and encourage him to keep ordering drinks. geto grows tired of dragging things out and insists you continue the evening back at his place.

“oh,” you say softly and, after a long drawn out moment, your lips curve into a knowing smile.

after you’re both full and pleasantly tipsy, he takes you to his place; in his mind it won’t be long before he has you begging him to fuck you — and then he can finally be rid of this ridiculous obsession. you barely make it through the door because his hands are all over you, tugging roughly on your dress to take it off of you. if you weren’t so determined to see this through, you’d laugh — at his eagerness, at his annoyance with the matter, at your uncanny ability to fool him into thinking that you really want him back.

you lay on his bed, legs spread wide, arousal dripping from your folds as he kisses along the inside of your thighs. normally, geto is an incredibly selfish lover — but tonight, he busies himself with devouring you entirely. almost like he’s trying to make up for lost time. your skin is littered with bite marks and hickeys, but you don’t mind; a few battle scars are necessary in the long run. an unprecedented hunger takes hold of his mind — drives him to eat your pussy with vigor and passion. you roll your hips forward, nipples hard as you moan his name loudly.

he likes how you’re falling apart for him — and only him; you tug on his hair roughly, nails raking against his scalp when he flicks his tongue against your throbbing clit. you forgot that when geto puts his mind to something, he really puts in work; his cock is stiff, but he chooses to ignore it for the sake of watching you writhe on his bed, hand pulling on his bed sheet as soon as he slips his lithe fingers inside of you. he pumps them in and out, fast and hard; you bite down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming, but you lose your composure quickly.

the orgasm leaves you panting and whimpering, softly moaning when geto continues to lap at your pussy, despite how sensitive you feel. you get on all fours without prompting and rub your ass against his cock. the sight is erotic and has him gliding the tip of his cock along your wet pussy, an act that wholly surprises him, even more so when he barely gives you warning before driving his cock inside of your tight hole.

again, he wonders what is different; he’s fucked you more times than he can count, and yet this feels completely new — as if you’re not you, but someone else. and he’s so close to the truth, yet so far away that you try your best not to laugh, even as he powers into you over and over, his cock thick and imposing as his pace picks up.

he knocks his hips against you, strokes lethal but pleasurable. you hiss when he grabs a fistful of your hair, but you let him do it anyway — you want to bide your time before the big finale, of course. geto’s mind melts the longer his cock is inside of you, your plush, warm walls tight around him, squeezing in a way that has him moaning your name out loud.

it surprises him, actually, but he doesn’t stop himself; if anything, he’s more invigorated as he continues to fuck you like you’re the only one he ever thinks about. and, while it probably is true, you also know geto more than he knows you. he pulls out of you suddenly, half in a daze and entirely hooked on your body, and slaps your ass before telling you to ride him instead.

it's almost too easy at this point because this is exactly what you want.

you take your time climbing on top and rub your pussy along his length, grinding and rolling your hips teasingly. his frustration gets the best of him when he grabs your hips to hold you steady.

“y/n,” he warns, voice low and husky. you like him like this — too consumed with lust to realize just how much danger he’s in.

“i’m sorry, baby,” you say almost a little too convincingly, lifting up before sinking down slowly, his cock filling you up in the best sort of way. he’s in heaven, clearly; the way your cunt keeps sucking him back in, your arousal dripping onto his skin — your pussy is the gift that keeps on giving, he tells you offhandedly. you laugh and laugh and laugh, determined to snatch his soul out of his body every time you impale yourself on his cock.

his nails sink into your skin when he holds onto your hips, lifting his upwards to thrust inside of you deeply.

“you know, suguru,” your voice is breathy and hypnotizing, his eyes are glazed over and unfocused; you place your hands on his headboard, under the guise of holding on so he can fuck you properly, but really you’re reaching behind to grab the knife you’ve taped to the back of it. “you’re a shitty person.” there’s confusion etched onto his pretty face, and you chuckle darkly  as you buck your hips against his and brandish the knife in front of him.

he'd noticed that it went missing from his set days ago, but figured he’d misplaced it.

“where did you get that?” he grunts when you clench your pussy around him, still riding him as if this is a common occurrence for both of you.

you continue talking as if he didn’t ask a valid question and gently tap his cheek with the flat part of the blade. “you broke my heart, turned my love into ash,” you ride him harder, your ass bouncing on his hips, and he’s much more aroused than he should be. which is alarming because he isn’t stopping you at all. “and you went about your life like i never mattered.” that part still hurt, and you don’t think as you hold the knife to his throat, the blade sharp enough that it knicks his skin when you lean forward.

he knows he should tell you to stop, but for some reason, it’s as if he’s paralyzed by your confession. he deserves it, he knows that, but you refuse to have any sort of sympathy for him. a bit of blood drips down his neck and you stab the blade onto his pillow, nearly missing his face. he actually fucking flinches and it makes you laugh again.

“you’re so fucking stupid,” you almost pity him. almost.

geto’s life literally flashes before his eyes. he’s never seen you this ruthless; the soft, demure woman he knew before is gone — in her place, is someone cold and demanding, someone who won’t hesitate to maim him if he toes the line.

his skin blanches and he swallows hard, words lodged deep in his throat. he doesn’t know what to say to you. “i—”

you run your tongue along his jaw, and grin triumphantly when he shivers uneasily. “you don’t get it, do you? you’re mine forever.” he wants to ask what you mean by that, but you don’t give him the chance. “i hate you so much, that i want to watch the life drain from your eyes.”

it’s morbid and unreal, but it feels right. “that’s also a form of love, right?” you’re not making any sense, and you don’t care; you’ve deviated from your plan — you intended to drag things out, but once he started fucking you and acting like he was running the show all over again, you snapped. “you’re mine forever, understand?”

he had every opportunity to grab the knife, to shake you off of him, but you keep moving your hips, keep moaning for him, and keep kissing him like you want to breathe in his essence. he’s trapped and probably will never find his way out; he realizes now, that your return wasn’t a coincidence. it was planned. it’s fear that keeps him on that bad, that lets you keep fucking him until you’re satisfied, and when he finally cums, you smile wickedly and pick the knife up again.

“there’s no one who will love you the way i do, baby.”

[goldeneyedgirl]

this is may be a dumb question but i saw something about it in the tags and you're a wordsmith and i do so adore your fics, so if the cullens adopted bree tanner, what do you think that would look like? like what would the dynamics be? (especially between bree, jasper and alice?)

There is no such thing as a dumb question anon! I have 0 recollection about any Bree tags, so we're going on totally fresh vibes.

Also wordsmith? I wiggle, thank you so much! I'm so glad you enjoy my fics!

I also need to be totally transparent: I never read Bree Tanner. I know the plot, but like Midnight Sun, I never felt moved to engage with it. I also found that Bree's early life and Alice's was so similar it was slightly silly. So please excuse me if I fudge the details.

If the Cullens had adopted Bree... well. That would put a major spanner in the works because newborns and Bella would not mix well.

This means the family would have to split up, and that would be controversial: Jasper would have to go with the newborn, and Alice would go with Jasper because dealing with a newborn would not be a great time for Jasper. Rose and Emmett would probably go with them - Emmett could be useful with Bree, and Rose would both want to get away from Bella, and want to go with Emmett. I could see only Carlisle, Edward, and maybe Esme staying behind in Forks with Bella, honestly.

But that's a pretty dramatic twist in the Cullen dynamic and separation would definitely effect how Bree bonded with everyone - she would automatically be closer to the family she was 'raised' with, and defer to Jasper and Emmett before she did Carlisle, Edward or Esme. I could see Bree going to Jasper or Emmett for permission/help rather than Carlisle being something that really calls into question the dynamics of the family - and I could see Edward, Esme, and Bella as perceiving that as an insult to Carlisle. But whilst Bree is grateful to Carlisle for negotiating her freedom, her loyalties lie with the family members that 'raised' her and protected her. And I can see all four of them being very protective over her; ultimately the family would have this unspoken divide into two covens simply because of the split, and it would take time and communication to really heal it.

That's quite a complicated scenario, so let's backtrack and say that it was possible for Bree to start in Forks with the full Cullen family and become one of them. (We'll get through the rest of the family before we get to Alice and Jasper.)

Esme would dote on her; she would mother the ever-loving shit out of her - especially when Bree told her about her upbringing and her missing mom. I think Bree would take the place of the 'baby' of the family because she's both the newborn and the youngest of the family. Bree would absolutely soak all of this up, and probably drive everyone else nuts hogging Esme for the first few months.

Carlisle would be very kind to her, try to help her transition to animal blood, and very carefully give her the rundown on the laws of vampires, and the family rules. I can see Bree being wary of him as a father figure because of her father's abuse, but also be relieved by the fact he's protected her and he's telling her everything she needs to know. He saved her from death, that's huge considering both her bio father and Riley sent her to death. There would be a lot of respect there, and eventually affection, but it would be as openly affectionate as the relationship Bree has with Esme.

Rosalie would be distant at first, very put-out that they've adopted a stray and be very, very frustrated as Bree learns control and how to behave as a human. But as time passed, I could see Rose thriving as a Big Sister - teaching Bree how to do things like change a tire and take care of a car; teaching her to drive; how to throw a punch. Rose would be the one to go searching for Bree's mom and finding out that Mr Tanner was charged for her murder would enrage her. Rose is definitely the one who organizes a burial and headstone for Mrs Tanner, though she lets Esme and Carlisle break the news to Bree.

Emmett would love Bree. A kid sister? One who is doesn't mind being tossed in the air and is happy to go bear hunting multiple times a week? He's hooked. And I think that easy-going acceptance would go so far with Bree. He's just... friend-shaped, and he's got her back. If she's out of control, Emmett's got her in a bear hug and he doesn't even hold a grudge if she bites him. She feels very safe with Emmett, and loves playing video games with him, and more than once Rose has walked into their bedroom to find Bree lounging on their bed talking to him whilst Emmett sorts comic books or something.

Edward resents the fuck out of Bree because he sees her as taking the place reserved for Bella - the baby sister, the newborn. He's frustrated that they have to deal with Bree's newborn year, because no one will change Bella until Bree is in control and safe to be around - Jasper would flat out refuse and leave if he had to deal with two newborns, and having two at the same time - especially of opposing ages - would be a recipe for chaos. But he's also intensely aware that Bree was in literal hell both as a human and as a vampire, and he tries very hard to be kind and mostly just comes off as the bothered older brother. He's also the one that picks up on the fact that Diego is most likely dead, but she's so hopeful he cannot tell her otherwise. Bree tries to get on Edward's good side, but she just keeps messing it up - touching his sheet music, his CDs, accidentally insulting things Edward holds dear. It would be funny if it wasn't going so very wrong.

Bella as a human is scared of Bree, because it's so very obvious Bree struggles in Bella's presence. and because of Bree's association with Victoria and with Riley. Bree's pretty curious about Bella, but they don't have a relationship until Bella is a vampire. As a vampire, Bella is quite... dismissive of Bree; because of her shield, Bella doesn't experience the bloodlust Bree has, and she's married to Edward, where Bree has lost her mate. Bella suffers from an inability to see from other's perspectives and her own privilege in her change, so she has a low tolerance for Bree - especially around Renesmee. It takes time and they make peace, but they aren't ever close.

Jasper. Oh boy. Jasper has a very complicated relationship with Bree because of his time in the South. He hates being around newborns because of that; their emotions change so fast, they can be triggered from calm to frothing rage instantly, they bite, and they are so strong. Having Bree join the family was not on Jasper's agenda at all, but he's also past the point of executing newborns for existing and accepting that Esme and Carlisle want to keep her. He sees her presence as part of his penance and a step closer to being a better man.

Jasper would be the one that did the most monitoring of her because of his gift and his experience. It would take a lot out of him, and he'd hover at the sidelines, quiet and waiting. I think the stress of knowing that after Bree is 'done', he's expected to go and do exactly the same thing with Bella. That would be stressful and exhausting and depressing for him. And he would be the first line of fire when Bree was out of control - getting bitten by her would be a fun adventure into flashbacks of the south for him.

But I also don't think that he'd hold that against her at all. He'd be kind and he'd be patient because he knows what it's like to be lied to by a leader. He knows what it's like to wake up in a hellscape of death and pain and destruction. And he knows what it's like to be given a second chance by the Cullens. I think he'd be a lot warmer to her after her newborn period was up, and I think he'd eventually joke about any bite scars she gave him. I definitely think that Bree would see him as a protector figure, because of how he monitored her, but also someone worthy of respect, fitting in somewhere between Edward and Carlisle. He would also do a lot of the legwork for Rose trying to track down Mrs Tanner.

Alice would be Jasper's main support during Bree's newborn year, and probably be the ambassador between the pair so that Bree doesn't feel intimidated, rejected, or threatened by Jasper, and Jasper didn't get overwhelmed by Bree and lose his temper. I can also see Bree appreciating Alice's makeovers and becoming Alice's favorite person to dress up because she never had that opportunity before and Alice prides herself on being a very stereotypical big sister with movie nights and dance parties - something that Bree loves and would cause a little tension with Bella and Edward.

Alice would also essentially confirm that Diego was gone to Edward. She would also kind of confirm that Fred was alive, mostly because he makes her visions go wonky because of his gift, which I think Bree would be delighted by. Bree would like the reassurance that Alice's gift offered, that she could check that she was doing things right and she was safe. When it came to the next high school, I could see Alice and Bree both being enrolled as freshman so that Bree has someone to watch over her and she's got one friend in class to have a normal high school experience.

I hope those were the kind of takes you were looking for Anon!

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

Midnight Snack

You catch Shuji's eye in the library at uni and he absolutely must take you out.

Just some shuji fluff for the dash. He's a little weird here sorry lmao. Reader is grumpy and tired. Unproofread.

Shuji can't get enough of you. He has a nasty (though endearing) habit of staring.

It's actually how you met.

In the library at uni, trying to get away from noisy roommates and distractions, you sat yourself in a gloomy corner, eyes hazy and unfocused on the article you were "reading."

Until movement caught your eye.

You don't see him at first, the playful fuck. He ducks behind a DiffyQ textbook that, looking back, definitely isn't his. You pay no mind. Whatever. Let the motherfucker stare, you've got shit due tonight. It's not like you're unaccustomed to annoying attention from men and their "you'd look so much better if you smiled" bullshit.

Fuck. You got yourself in a mood now.

Like clockwork, a tuft of grown-out bleached hair and a pair of golden eyes peeks out hoping to catch yours without detection. You snap in his directions and he ducks again. You swear to God you hear a giggle and the rustling thud of a heel knocking into a limb.

When you look, no, glare back, the decoy textbook is down and he's smiling, wide and goofy (and rubbing his shin). You raise a brow and go back to your work, fruitlessly, because he takes the acknowledgement as an invitation. Before you know it hes dragging a heavy wooden chair loudly and sitting across from you.

He's tall. He's huge, really. He's objectively rather gorgeous with a nice jawline and lively eyes that study you, like you're the only thing, even in a building full of decades and decades of knowledge, worth studying.

"Can I fucking help you?"

"i think you can."

"I've got a deadline in 2 hours, make it quick."

"Let me take you for a late night meal. A reward for finishing your....school thing." You almost want to laugh. School thing? Does he even go here? He must sense the shift in mood and it further boosts his confidence. "Come on," he lets the word wobble like a kid pushing their luck, "you're the coolest girl in this place, let me show you a good time."

You can't place it exactly, maybe it's in the wiggle of his eyebrows or the groan of secondhand embarrassment from his friend not far away, but you get a relatively innocent vibe. You turn him away with a terse, maybe and watch as he wanders back to his friend, bounce in his step and high on premature victory.

His gaze isn't as heavy for the duration of your time there. He busies himself with doodles in the margins of Kisaki's work that he thought was math, but maybe is actually Greek; Shuji doesn't care. He's got an absolute beauty on his mind.

He's enraptured by her. Her focused scowl and the way her eyes narrow at the screen. The way her lips purse around the straw of what once was probably iced coffee. The art in her skin that he can see until the aircon kicks on and she puts another layer back on. Shuji is reminded in that moment that he hates the cold so, so much, and even more now that it's stolen away a part of the art he'd been admiring.

He huffs and loses himself if scribbling whatever comes to mind to kill time. He misses you packing your things quietly, work completed just before the deadline and he jumps to cover his scribbles when you clear your throat.

"I'm hungry."

"Hi hungry, I'm Hanma."

You groan, "Actually I'm leaving."

"Come on it was funny!"

"Are you twelve?"

You bicker with the cute giant the whole way out of the library with a smile tugging at your lips. You'd seen the scribbles, he wasn't slick.

Variations of, "God she's kind of insanely pretty. No seriously she's so pretty" up and down the margins. This guy was kind of embarrassing, silly, a wildcard, and well, those are the best people to eat fast food with at 11:59 pm.

It's the first of many midnight snacks.

Yeah that's right bitch this one's for you @sin-and-punishment shuji is down bad for you and I will not be told otherwise.

[phoenixyfriend]

ღ For rexsoka, if you don't mind

Send me a ღ and I’ll fill this out about a ship

This ask meme is from a year ago. I'm not taking new prompts.

I'm going to use a "war ended, no-66" setting. Ahsoka's 19/20, and the clone aging was brought down to 'standard' so Rex is mid/late-twenties and progressing at a normal rate. Ahsoka's relationship with the Jedi is... let's go with 'neutral but also irrelevant.'

Who’s the first to wake up in the morning: I want to say it's usually Rex? Ahsoka's better at sleeping in, but they both tend to wake up pretty early. It all depends on if Ahsoka's got an early obligation. Rex will wake up at 6-ish naturally, while Ahsoka can wake up anywhere between 4 and 11 if she's feeling like it.

Who’s the one to make breakfast: Rex likes to cook, imo. However, he's also more in need of a 'made' breakfast. He cannot eat the bacon raw, Ahsoka. That's a food poisoning risk.

Who’s the one to serve the other breakfast in bed: Ahsoka! She's very keen on pampering Rex when she can.

Who would suggest a quickie in the morning before work: I think this one is also Ahsoka. She tugs her blankets down, pulls her sleep shorts up just enough to show a bit of cheek, and arches her back to show off Booty just as Rex exits the shower. Cue a little wiggle for sexy attention.

Who suggests they both ditch work to lay around all day: Either of them, but I think Ahsoka does so slightly more often. Less of an ingrained worry of Significant Consequences.

Who chooses the movies: Usually Rex, I'd say.

Who initiates kissing during the moving, thus distracting the other from the movie all together: I genuinely believe Ahsoka's the horny one in this relationship, and also the one who's willing to initiate things at Inconvenient Times.

Who orders lunch: Rex.

Who steals food from the other’s plate without asking: Ahsoka, she's more playful in general.

Who curls up next to the other and falls asleep due to a full tummy: that one's Ahsoka. She is Curl Up Cuddle prone.

Who distracts the other from trying to work at home: I think they both do it. Ahsoka more at first, but Rex gets into it after he's had a few years to relax.

Who asks to go get ice cream like a five year old: Ahsoka. I think she likes to play up her relative youth to make Rex laugh. She's an adult, but sometimes it makes him gigglesnort if she does something Silly in this vein.

Who takes pictures of their partner eating ice cream: Ahsoka wants to post cute pics of her boyfriend on Spacetagram.

Who makes a sexual joke about the dripping ice cream on their partner’s face: Rex. Ahsoka may be the horny one, but Rex makes the sex jokes, at least a little bit because her being the Horny One means she's easier to fluster with sex references and innuendo.

Who cooks dinner: Again Rex. If he wants to tease Ahsoka, he decides to do it in the traditional uniform that is 'boxers and an apron, boxers optional.'

Who cleans up the kitchen afterwards: Ahsoka. She's faster, somehow, and also Rex usually does the food prep work, unless Ahsoka's bringing back takeout.

Who stays up until 2 reading: Rex. I want him to wear reading glasses in bed while Ahsoka's conked out and snoring.

Who stares at their partner while they're sleeping: Ahsoka. (Sometimes it's. a bit creepy. she's got tapetum lucidem and sometimes the vibe is kind of like a predator instead of like a lover) (Rex is used to it) (that's just How It Is when you date a tog)

Who kisses their partner while they sleep: Oh, this one's Rex. He thinks it's cute and sweet and Ahsoka agrees when he does it while she's secretly already awake

[polyphonetic]

Dreamt that there was a huge mansion owned by a Black woman (who was also the Raiden Shogun, she had electricity god powers), and there was a grand event where 99 of her family members below her were attending. Each one had a very different personality and aesthetic but it was expected that they all be excellent in whatever field they are in to bring honor and power to the family (a buddhist, incredibly athletic people, musicians, etc). I was working as a butler for the mansion, bringing people to their tables, helping them to the best of my ability to be comfortable.

However, I was I suppose trying too hard to help people be comfortable because they would open up to me and I would try to help them emotionally, which was unintentionally rebellious towards the power structure of the matriarch head of the family (a lot of pressure to be excellent and push themselves, or if they were not special then they were treated kind of like dirt). Eventually, the matriarch decided that I was sowing rebellion, and started to try to kill me with her lightning staff. She put a bounty on my head for all 99 family members to be free to track me down and kill me for a great favor.

I had made some allies, including a short ascetic buddhist, a sweet girl that I would hold hands with and who loved to sing and chat endlessly, a silly guy whose passion was dancing but only knew how to wiggle, and an amateur rap artist who didn't know how to rhyme. The vibe of the dream was that in hiding and interacting with each family member individually I would befriend them, which was very shounen anime.

I think that the matriarch was probably mentally influenced by my very strict middle school EXPO teacher (any assignment being late for any reason meant detention, to "prepare us for college", and detention meant punishment from my family). The girl I was attached to I think was influenced by my bisexual coworker / lead who was particularly nice to me at my old job / supported my transition, who I had a slight crush on.

Very interesting and detailed dream, a lot of running for my life with everyone trying to kill me and my abuser trying to get into my life (both which isn't too unusual in dreams, but he's wormy and pathetic and I ignored him).

I woke up with a bit of longing for the sweet girl, which often happens when there's a girl in my dreams sktjdifj I am simply a yearning sapphic -_-

[fidelissimi-moved]

@edhellfire86 (carnival things!!)

This was exciting as fuck for Eddie. Mostly because Ruby never gave him the vibe that she was into this sort of thing. She was always the kind of girl that would step up and win her own damn prize. While he admired that about her, he wanted to be the guy that won her something. It took him a few tries. The guy wasn't very coordinated and these games were rigged. All odds against Eddie Munson. He chose the game he knew he'd be best at. The one where you aim at the targets with water guns and knock them down. It was his best shot cause he liked shooting zombies at the arcade. Same shit right? Still took him like five tries and he didn't even get the big prize. Medium was good enough. Eddie was looking at the prizes he got to choose from. The only thing he knew was that he didn't want to get anything traditional for Ruby. No bears, no bunnies, no puppies, no cats. Didn't leave him many options. He grinned, finding a stupid squid hat that lit up. The hat was the body of the squid and the tentacles hung from the body, coming almost two Ruby's shoulders. It was red, for obvious reasons. Wearing a proud grin on his face, Eddie placed the squid hat on Ruby's head, then flipped on the switch that had the tentacles lighting up and flashing. "I think it suits you."

Ruby had to admit she was impressed with Eddie's diligence. Once he has his mind set on something he worked until he achieved it, even if it was something as silly as winning her a prize from one of the rigged carnival games. And yes, she knew they were rigged, and there was no way to win anything on the first try unless you knew the secret to the games, but once she'd laid the challenge out there and he'd accepted it, she knew she'd be walking away with something to remember the night by, and he didn't disappoint. As he placed the squid hat on her head and turned the lights on in the tentacles, Ruby went from bewildered at his choice of prize, to cracking a smile that she knew she rarely gave, giving her head a little shake to watch the tentacles wiggle around her shoulders and light up the ends of her hair in an array off colors. Deciding that it was in good spirits to go with the flow — after all he had worked so hard to win her this silly hat — Ruby gave him a twirl and struck a pose, model face and all. "How do I look?" she asked, her grin breaking out into a full blown smile. "I'm positively glowing, right?" she punned, no matter how bad it was, she thought it was funny.

[clit-eastwood-spicy]

HIT US WITH 2, 3, 6 and 14 (i love music in relation to media sorry), 22, and 26 for SANJI don’t be shy

SKUHFSHFSDKUHF THANK YOU FOR THIS, I LOVE DOING THESE SO MUCH KSDHFSJDFHSKDFHSKJDF For Sanji this time <3 OKAY also I'll admit I've been reading a ton of fics / headcanons with him so my thoughts mix be a tad skewered with info but like I've so many good writings for Sanji, bless all the writers so much because aaaaaaaaaa <3 <3 2 - Honestly I kinda started falling for him when I saw some gifs of the "silly in love wiggle dance" shit he does (because lets face it, silly weirdo men is my jam and I need more of it always) but I also see him as a very passionate kinds guy and thats also such a wonderful trait <3 3 - OH THIS- I know I keep wanting to say some sort of food service (because ofc its the easiest vibe but I feel like thats too easy of an answer dskjufsdf) so I've been scratching my head thinking about it for a few mins but like I keep thinking he would work at like a womens shoe store or like a jewelry store or somewhere he'd be able to work and flirt skjdhf. I just imagine him being like "Oh, what a gorgous choice for a gorgous person like you, it works with your eyes so well!" or something like that sdkjfhsdf 6 - YET ANOTHER I HAVE NOT LISTENED TO / MADE A PLAYLIST FOR... Which is also surprising because I have a few for other characters / pairings dsjhfsjdfh. Buuuuuuut when I've been reading fics I've been listening to those "piano jazz" youtube playlist things and they just feel fitting somehow?? ksdjuhsd 14 - OKAY SO I LOOKED BACK THROUGH MY "MUSHY LOVE SONGS" STUFF ON MY SPOTIFY AAAAAAND- I decided to go with just the whole ass song for him of "I'm in the mood for love" by Julie London (it just has soft romance vibes and I see it as super fitting for him from what I've seen / read of him so far skudfsdkfh) 22 - Oooooo good question. Hmmmmmmm.... I keep thinking it would be fun to have him meet Ingo and Emmet from Pokemon but mostly because I think it would be interesting to see what kind of shenanigans Emmet and Sanji could get up to together. Though I also have like a fuckton of ocs so those could be extra fun too jsdhfshjf 26 - Aaaa okay so admittedly I am not fully aware of his past yet (but I've heard a few brief things here and there) so I'm gonna rework this a tad to go off of what I know about him - but but I feel like he might be the type that when he has too much time to think he sort of just sits alone while smoking and overthinks things he could have done better or ways he could have helped someone or a situation? He's got that kinda vibe and idk how to describe it skudhfsd

[starcasticallyyours]

starcastic’s fun facts about writing Art and Artifice

So, my Vmin Regency AU Art and Artifice is finally finished!! This feels rather surreal because I worked on almost nothing else for the past 6 months. It was such a good experience though because not only did I enjoy myself immensely with the craft and execution of this story, but the people who regularly commented were so wonderfully encouraging and made me feel like the sunken cost was all worth it. Thank you again, I love you all so much!

A lot went into the making of this story, so I really want to share more about how I wrote it as well as pointing out little Easter eggs I included, both relating to BTS or the time period. If any of this interests you, keep reading below!

FUN FACTS FIRST!

Not sure if anyone got this, but the title is in fact a riff on Pride and Prejudice! And the sequel will be even more silly by having a very Blackadder the Third take on another Austen title, but you’ll have to wait and see which one it is.

I already mentioned in an author’s note that each of the estates had IRL basis, but they also all had fictional ones. Harthaven is meant to evoke Mr Knightley’s Donwell Abbey with its stately farmcore vibes. Ivoring Hall should remind you of both Longbourn (especially with the Mins behaving rather Bennet-like) and Kellynch Hall (their money woes reflecting those of the Elliots). And of course, Davensley is a total rip-off of Mr Darcy’s Pemberley and is here to represent the epic breadth and majesty of all major English country estates.

Taehyung’s Grand Tour itinerary is based on Lord Byron’s from 1809-1811. I’m sure he desperately wanted to go to France and Italy but there’s a war going on out there, somewhere. And Seokjin isn’t here. (My Great Comet agenda will never rest)

Speaking of which, there should have been a Jin mention each update but I failed this when the Sope proposal scene became its own chapter and I forgot. Kind of bummed about it, not gonna lie.

I thought about having Yoongi read Sense and Sensibility at some point since it was published in October 1811. But then he went and established himself as an ardent enthusiast of gothic melodrama instead, how very Catherine Morland of him.

[major story spoiler] The backstory of why Merritt suddenly came back to England was that a great-aunt of his died and he had expected to be given her estate just to discover that this was not the case! Having sold his commission, he couldn’t return to a military career so he decided to wiggle his way back into Jimin’s life to gain his fortune/inheritance instead -- except he did not expect a) Minjeong’s wise decision to will Harthaven to Namjoon and b) Kim Taehyung. [end spoilers]

Not about the story/characters at all but I have a weird preoccupation with numbers so I’m particularly happy that I started this fic on 11/11 and managed to finish it on 5/5. 

A tidbit about the sequel: it will be from Namjoon’s POV and centred around him as he was mostly in the background throughout this story and deserves something good after his year of being sad. I’m looking forward to it because how he views himself is absolutely not the same way Jimin does!

THE WRITING PROCESS:

I almost always come up with a story’s ENTIRE plot before even writing it down. So after seeing @dayofkaryn​‘s tweet (like I’ve said so many times) in March, I was bit by a plot bunny and thought about it incessantly for about 2 months to figure out the main beats. This way, I can mentally test and veto things – at one point I had an entire other ending to the story that I never wrote down and ergo have totally forgotten what it was (something about Taegi teaming up against Merritt but I do not remember what their plan was at ALL). Of course, the final version of the story almost never resembles the chosen plot 100% faithfully, but having a roadmap is still really important for my personal security!

Next, I outline. Extensively. The version that I kept on tweaking and rewriting over the summer ended up at 11k words by the time I started. The point is that it’s a 0 draft and again, I’m figuring out the beats and identifying what needs to be done in regards to character development, structure, or just basic research.

I started drafting in late September and had the first 3 chapters ready by the first post in November (totally lost my head start by Christmas though, lol). When I draft, I cut/paste the section of outline that applies into a new Google doc and start forming them into sentences and paragraphs. Sometimes I end up rewriting the outline first, especially for later chapters after the story had developed into its own thing with a much clearer personality that deviated from the original plan! In draft mode, I also keep Wordhippo and Etymonline on nearby tabs to help me catch that word on the tip of my tongue and that my vocabulary choice is both period and suitably British. Luckily, thanks to where I grew up/currently live my spelling habits are already UK style!

Once drafted, I upload as a preview on AO3 and tweak for line edits/formatting there. Will admit that by the last 2-3 chapters this was not done and I would line edit after posting because my work schedule was hectic! But then the chapter is published, yay, and I go about my day trying not to think about it and reminding myself that the stats page is not an indicator of quality or worth. 

RESOURCES:

I’ll admit that I constantly googled shit while I drafted, ending up mostly on the blogs of Romance authors or Jane Austen fanpages. I do want to shout out this extremely cool collection of articles written by literally one person on very particular and niche topics from the era called the Regency Redingote. Even if it just came to one-liners about Jimin using a mote spoon or trimming quills, the wealth of information is just amazing and I could and have lost hours of time just reading about these random Regency things.

I also used videos for general education. Ellie Dashwood is a YouTuber who for a long time made Austen and 19th century her thing, so she was great for simple and straightforward explanations. (And she’s Yoongi biased!) There’s also this incredibly detailed re-enactment of a private ball by the Real Royalty history channel that they held in Edward Austen’s house! That one is just FUN to watch and learning more about the period via direct experience is a great way to do it in my opinion. And this one vlog about a pheasant shoot helped me significantly with Chapter 9 even if it’s very modern.

However, nothing beats immersing yourself in the OG stories! While writing this fic I revisited Emma, Northanger Abbey, and Sense and Sensibility from top to bottom, and picked up Venetia as a new Heyer read. I also checked out Jennifer Kloester’s Georgette Heyer’s Regency World from the library which had a lot of details about the setting and culture that was really useful. My library system has tons of Heyer actually, I should pick up another to celebrate finishing the AU!

WRITING SOUNDTRACKS:

I’m a creature of habit and usually will return to the same handful of mood music for a project. For A&A, these were on constant rotation:

For lighthearted scenes [like in chapters 4-7] / Jimin’s “theme”: the complete OST from Emma 2020. I genuinely love this movie for its cinematography and absurdity, and I love the soundtrack too! For Vmin scenes / Taehyung’s “theme”: Twoset Violin’s Mendelssohn 4mil Concert. I really, really like the Bach piano pieces at the start and end, and I find La Campanella to be very A&A!Taehyung coded: torrid and dramatic and also kind of ridiculous. I do pause writing whenever I hear the concerto starting to catch Brett’s panicked face when they prank him every single time, hahahaha

For Sope scenes / Yoongi’s “theme”: this collection of John Field’s nocturnes. My favourite is No. 10, the “Romance”. Soft and gentle, like our sweet Suga!! Other composers I would also put on from time to time were Beethoven, Pleyel (who Jane Austen was known to enjoy a lot), more John Field (concertos instead of nocturnes) and of course, BTS. C:

If you actually read to the end of this very self-indulgent and longwinded post, thank you for your patience! I hope you liked the story too, and are curious enough to see what the heck I’m going to do with pirates in the sequel. Because now I’m going to have to figure that out too. As always, I remain starcasticallyyours!

[unfounded-daydreams]

♡ + dancing, which of your muses are proficient in dancing? What is their favourite type of dance if they have one, and if they aren’t proficient in dance; how would they be if they had to dance? ouo

♡ + dancing || headcanon meme

In alphabetical order with my current loudest muses… here we go!

Callahan

When it comes to dancing, Callahan certainly tries. Quiet vibing in the corner, however, doesn’t really count. That said, he likes to bop his head to all sorts of genres. Heavy metal, loose classical… it doesn’t matter. Good music is good music, and though he can’t dance to it on a technical level, he enjoys it nonetheless.

Dream

I’ve always loved making Dream a surprisingly good dancer. He’s more intuitive than practiced, however. No set style. He doesn’t bother to spend hours in front of a mirror getting the moves right, either.

But! Throw a partner into the mix, and suddenly he’s trying to predict their every move. How can he best steal their breath away? This remains the case even if his intentions are less than pure. See, if he can leave a lasting impact on his partner, he considers it a win. What’s better than lingering in even your enemy’s thoughts, driving them mad with your memory? Egotistical Dreamie would settle for nothing less.

Then again, I’m a sucker for those kinds of tropes. Give me Dream spinning around someone he claims to loathe until they’re both out of breath and dizzy with emotion. All according to plan… Except, is it really?

George

Whether George can dance or not depends entirely on the AU. From a canon POV, he can. Just not perfectly. Small hiccups are to be expected. He prefers dancing to slower tunes for that reason. Anything fast-paced is bound to leave him floundering on the dance floor.

And when he’s with someone? Through tinted goggles, he gets lost in his partner’s eyes. The feeling of their hand in his and the heat swirling between them is enough to have him lose focus. He’ll end up stepping on their toes sooner rather than later, much to his chagrin. Muttered apologies are barely audible — he wishes he was better at this sorta thing.

In other AUs, I’ve written him as an actual, trained dancer. But as a general rule of thumb: he’s easily distracted when there’s too much on his mind. It’s part of the reason he’s so likely to zone-out; but that’s a topic for another day.

Punz

Punz is a big dancer. Not only is it a cultural thing for many fae, but his bee-like instincts compel him to wiggle from time to time when he’s trying to communicate or express something. Dance-emphasis. They’ll describe how to make something with full-blown, dramatized hand gestures and a sway of their hips. Or they’ll give directions and pace back and forth in a silly little waggle dance. Either way, they can take that to a whole other level when it’s time to get serious.

They also are very happy when someone wants to dance with them. Pull them close and rock them back and forth and they’ll start buzzing whether they mean to or not. (Well, in AUs where they still have their wings. Like many Punz writers, I’m not kind to him.)

Watch him roll his eyes and say it’s stupid, but… Given enough prompting, he wraps his arms around his partner and buries his face into the crook of their neck. “You’re bad at this,” they’d mutter through a playful grin. Still, despite the tease, they don’t dare let go. Even the simplest of dances are enough to keep them hooked. They don’t need anything fancy.

Ranboo

Ranboo is my beloved dancer! Even if they’re not the greatest in the world, they practice frequently and love showing off their new moves. Clumsy mistakes are quickly corrected the second time around. Bit by bit, they’ve refined the routine to a polished sheen.

He also enjoys dancing with other people. Not necessarily hand-in-hand, but as a group. Something about that lightens the pressure of being a solo performer. Dancing is a lot more enjoyable when everyone around him is having a good time too. They’re also big on bobbing their head to certain tunes or humming/vwooping along, regardless of the presence of lyrics.

Techno

Ever wondered where Ranboo learned how to dance? Look no further than everyone’s favorite piglin. I adore found family dynamics between these two, I won’t lie. Any PeerPressureDuo enjoyers out there?

In any case, dancing is pretty big in my idea of piglin society. It shows two people’s chemistry and their ability to navigate missteps together. So, Techno was taught from a young age how to dance, even just to make friends.

He’s extremely elegant as well, flowing from one move to another without issue. It’s seamless, gorgeous, and entrancing. He fights like he dances, too, with every gesture pronounced and oddly graceful.

This was… probably more information than anyone ever wanted to know, but I had fun writing it! Thank you for the lovely ask!!

[missamyrisa2]

I adored your story about the tickle therapist. The idea of you completely helpless and giggly in that fluffy blanket burrito. I wanted to ask about said tickle therapist. How did you get so lucky, I think I want a tickle therapist too! Does she come up with a different scenario each time? Does she every force you to blush and ask for a certain tool etc?

Awwe I'm so glad you enjoyed ~<33 It was definitely one of my favorite sessions and a very unexpected but lovely lil gigglegasm ~

Sooo, I truly did get very lucky with my therapist. I was putting ads in craigslist looking for a tickle therapist at a time when I wanted more than anything just the touch. I didn't want a full on tickle fetish explosion, mostly a very light massage. As expected I mostly had responses from creeps and bots, but one person seemed on the level who said she was a massage therapist and had done something similar in the past for a client. We exchanged messages and set an appointment at her place of business. The first session was very much a traditional massage with a lighter touch. I wasn't brave enough to flat out ask for tickles and I really held back my laughs when her light touch would graze a spot. On our third session she remarked "you know, you can giggle. Giggling is okay." And that broke the ice. Now my sessions were full of laughs and snickers and giggles, and she was really vibing on how it affected me.

It started with tickles by hand, and she really surprised me when one day she sent an excited message saying she'd crafted a tickle tool. It was kind of amazing, like a knuckle accessory with four fluffy feathers attached to it which she mostly used to tickle my feet into giggling fuzziness. Our sessions are evolving, but mostly involve me laying on the table face down for a half hour, face up for a half hour with tickles administered throughout my body. We mix up the tools constantly, usually she brings some and I bring some, and we're always trying something new. Like on this last session I brought one of my waistbelts and had her both use the cool metal buckle to tickle my back and backs of my knees, and also jingle it around me which made me a squeaking desperate mess. She brought a fuzzy xylophone mallet and was using it to reach down and tickle my sides and ribs while using a feather to tickle my ears. We've also played with ASMR style tickles, where she's repeating tickle words (tickle tickle tickle, coochie coochie coo) or just buzzing my ears. And sometimes completely improvised things happen like once I was still giggling and my toes were still wiggling after she'd stopped tickling them, and she grabbed my ankles and took my feet under her shirt to hold them at her belly and we giggled together for like five minutes. She does make me blush a lot! And I make her giggle so much too with my silliness. It's really the best~<3

[sugarepoxy]

I dont jnow if this is a cold take but i will always love horror podcasts or books over movies or games because its like. They just have a completely different vibe. Without the visual element, you have a ton of wiggle room for how the monsters could look and you can make them as cool and freaky and gorey as you want!! And you can also kind if tone up/down the horror if you wanna get silly with it. It's really customizable to your freaky little thoughts and i love it for that, ESPECIALLY eldritch horror