#they don’t have each other blocked for these exact interactions

[daveyfvckingjacobs]

*sighs*

*opens generator*

wiesel and oscar

[cobaltperun]

hi ! can you please write an angsty fic with a happy ending with gn!reader x tara or cairo your choice where t or c breaks up with r and r becomes a fuckgirl and t or c gets jealous. there could be some sort of conversation along the lines of r saying “how i chose to get over you is none of your business” and t or c responding “don’t” totally okay if you don’t want to or are not comfortable !! <3

(Don't) Let Go

Cairo Sweet x Female Reader (Request)

Masterlist

A/N: I usually keep this for the end, but two things, Anon added a correction, from GN! to Female Reader, so just pointing that out to clear potential confusion. Second, this depicts some unhealthy coping mechanisms, so I just want to say, do not follow R's example. Also, Anon, hope this is what you wanted 😁😁

Word count: 1.8k

She watched you from afar, her eyes narrowed, hand gripping the glass of wine so hard she was surprised it didn’t shatter and a frown that told her company not to interact with her unless necessary. You were drunk, dancing with a girl you were flirting with, your hands were on her hips, and her back was pressed against you as the two of you laughed. Tonight’s distraction. It didn’t escape her attention that this girl was a blonde, tall, green eyes, with plenty of make-up, though she could see she was still fairly pretty. Last night you went to the apartment of some red-head the night before that, some other girl with a tattoo who dyed her long wavy hair some ridiculous shade of orange to look like some anime character. The point was, each night you chose a girl that was the exact opposite of her and while Cairo wasn’t jealous, she hated seeing you like this.

Did she have the right to complain though? She broke up with you, she ruined yet another relationship. She ruined everything she touched.

It’s been a few years since she ruined her friendship with Winnie, since she thought she found her love in Miller and was disappointed and in a way betrayed. And she could never trust again, but you somehow broke through her shell, offering company she didn’t even realize she was craving.

It wasn’t like she was following you, or keeping tabs on where you were, or who you were sleeping with, it just so happened that the group she just finished a big college assignment with wanted to celebrate so they made her go with them. And the other two she knew about? Rumors, mainly, though she did catch sight of you with the girl, who lived a block away from Cairo, last night.

What were you doing? You weren’t ruining your life, entirely at the very least, you still managed to keep up with the classes, but you were drunk for most of the day, and if you weren’t drunk, you were hungover. Why did you break up again?

Oh, yeah, because she wasn’t ready to fully commit to the relationship, afraid of getting burnt again, and chose the worst possible option. She just ended it all, over a text, no conversation, no explanation, she just sent the message and blocked you everywhere. She couldn’t ask for forgiveness, though she greatly regretted what she did. She couldn’t watch you take that girl to your apartment, or go to her apartment, though.

So, she said goodbye to the group she came to the bar with and made her way toward you through the crowd of drunk partying people wasting away their free time. “Y/N,” she called out to you over the loud music and she watched as you staggered back, your eyes gaining some clarity as you recognized her.

“Cairo,” you slurred, your hand falling from the blonde’s hips.

“Come with me,” she didn’t wait for you to respond, she didn’t wait for the surprised, and a bit to drunk to understand what was going on, blonde to catch up with what was going on either. She just grabbed your hand and pulled you along. And you let her drag you to the counter and pay for your and hers bill and dragged you outside to look for a cab.

“What are you doing? I was having fun in there,” you leaned against the lamppost, barely standing and not even looking as the bright lights probably made your head hurt.

“By ruining your liver?” Cairo snarked, much more annoyed than she hoped she would be. This wasn’t her business, even if she stopped you tonight what was she supposed to do? Babysit you until you got your shit together? She didn’t have time for that.

A voice in the back of her head told her she was probably the one who pushed you toward this behavior. Her consciousness, perhaps?

“None of your damn business,” you glared at her and she hated seeing that look in your eyes directed at her.

“Right, get in,” she dragged you along as the cab pulled up and she gave the driver her address.

It took her a while, but she managed to get you to her apartment and to the sofa in her living room. She took your shoes off and pretty much pushed you to lie down before she went to get a blanket. When she came back you were already asleep, and she wondered how you managed to actually fuck any of those girls when you were this drunk?

She wasn’t jealous. She just wondered.

She made her decision, she broke up with you.

She still found herself thinking about you every now and then, because truly, you didn’t deserve it. You treated her right, better than anyone before you, that was for sure, you didn’t quite share her interests, but you were more than willing to listen, to grow by experiencing them with her. She could count on you if she wanted a thought-provoking debate, or a passionate night. She could talk for hours with you, or be perfectly comfortable in complete silence.

And she ended it.

And she thought it didn’t matter to her, but as she watched you sleeping there all the times you spent together came back and she… she wanted to fix things, to get a second chance, to make it work this time. And if anyone asked, no, a tear didn’t fall from her eye as you mumbled her name.

~X~

You woke up with a pounding headache, expecting to see a blonde next to you on the bed. Instead you were hit with the smell of spring field, the scent Cairo used when washing her clothes and everything else. You blinked at that and groaned, burying your face in the pillow. The books surrounded you, on the shelf, on the coffee table, everywhere and you only knew one person that had this kind of apartment…

“Damn it,” you cursed, tempted to just walk out and pretend this didn’t happen.

“Damn it, indeed,” and so much for that plan, you turned to the side, toward her bedroom doors and saw her, just as beautiful, enchanting even, as she was the last time you saw her. Before she went and broke up with you over a text and blocked you on everything. And then promptly refused to even acknowledge you existed despite your attempts to at least talk to her to make sure you didn’t hurt her somehow.

“Cairo,” you sighed, sitting up slowly to avoid making the headache even worse.

“Y/N,” she nodded, walking over to the kitchen and bringing you a glass of water and aspirin.

You just watched her, frankly curious and suspicious at the same time. What was her deal? Breaking up with you like that and now acting like this. So, once you downed the aspirin and water, you turned your attention, or as much of it as your headache allowed to Cairo. “What are you doing?”

She sat down in the armchair to your left and you were reminded of all the times you’d spend here, working on some assignment, together, or separately, not really caring as long as you were together. “Babysitting you, sine you clearly can’t help but get drunk and fuck any girl that doesn’t look like me,” she sounded like she had the guts to actually accuse you of doing that, and sure, it was true, and you would be the first to admit it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism but…

“How I choose to get over you is none of your business,” you bit out, feeling the anger and frustration from the month that passed since she broke up with you reaching a boiling point.

“Don’t,” she suddenly said.

And you stopped, flabbergasted by her response. “Don’t what?”

“Get over me,” she dared to say, and you laughed, looking away from her in utter disbelief.

‘Don’t get over her’ that was what she said? After all this time that was what she was telling you? That she sort of regretted breaking up with you.

“Are you for real right now? You sent me a text, blocked me and then acted like I didn’t exist!” you raised your voice, angry at her.

“I know,” she nodded, not even looking for an excuse.

You snorted. “You know? No, that’s amazing, you are unbelievable, you know? You really expect me to run into your arms? After everything?” you demanded.

Cairo shook her head, but you saw her biting her lower lip. “Y/N, I made a mistake, I apologize. I shouldn’t have hurt you like that,” the cracks in her unbreakable mask appeared, and she closed her eyes, missing the surprise on your face. “I was afraid of getting hurt again.”

So, she hurt you instead, before you could hurt her. She told you, on one long night, what happened to her, with Miller and her best friend, and as much as she hurt you, you somewhat understood her fear. “Do you have any idea how many times I got slapped or just kicked out because I called a girl your name? No matter how different they looked? You’re all I can fucking see,” you still loved her, because as much as she hurt you the time you spent together was some of the best time of your life, you thought she was the one. “How can I trust you not to do this again?”

Cairo looked at you, surprised, tears filling her eyes though she tried to hold them back. “I can’t blame you if you choose not to trust me again, I probably wouldn’t be able to trust you if our positions were switched,” she confessed.

You reluctantly opened your arm and gestured for her to come closer, and though surprised she did. She sat down next to you and hugged you, her hands wrapping around you tightly as you hugged her back. It still felt right. This. Being in each other’s arms.

“I need a bit of time, I need to take it slow if you want to give this, us, another chance,” you said, knowing that you couldn’t keep destroying yourself over this, and that maybe, much like her actions poisoned your life, they could be the antidote you needed.

Cairo nodded. “As much time as you need, I’ll be right here waiting,” she promised, the conviction in her voice made you believe that maybe, just maybe, reconsidering this relationship wouldn’t be the worst outcome you could imagine.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking someone not to make my art about a ship I hate?

This happened a couple months ago, but I’m still kinda unsure if I handled it correctly.

Basic rundown of events: I posted some art of a character on their own in the evening, and when I woke up the next morning, someone had reblogged with an addition about a ship that’s a big notp for me. I messaged them to ask they delete it as politely as possible, because people had been interacting with that version of the post specifically and it made me uncomfortable. They responded by saying I was being immature and needed to learn not to police what other people do on the internet. We exchanged a couple more messages, and I tried to explain my position my throughly. Neither of us was overtly hostile or anything, but I felt extremely talked down to by their tone of voice. After our conversation, we both blocked each other, and that was that. They never did delete their addition.

Why I think I might be TA: we weren’t exactly friends or anything. Neither of us followed each other. I’d seen them around in the fandom, and they’d reblogged some of my art in the past, but I think messaging someone I didn’t know instead of just blocking them might have been a bit of an overreach. Plus the ship in question is canon, and not particularly controversial or anything, so most people in the fandom probably wouldn’t have minded.

On the other hand, the ship being so unavoidable is a big part of the reason it upset me so much. It’s hard for me to exist in this fandom without having to see it constantly, and I don’t even ever mention the other character in it for fear of this exact thing happening. I’ve had people be assholes on my posts about the ship I prefer, or go out of their way to interpret my romantic posts about them platonically, or add tags to my art about how they only like my ship as backstory and not endgame. I don’t want to have to put a disclaimer every single time I post about this fandom. I just want to enjoy the things I like without being negative all the time. Which is why I figured messaging privately was more polite than making a stink where everyone could see. I specifically mentioned that I knew they wouldn’t have known and wasn’t mad.

No one actually ended up reblogging their addition, which is also a strike against me, but I got a lot of likes on specifically that version of the post, which made me scared they were going to. I hated the idea of having to turn off reblogs on a piece I’d worked pretty fucking hard on because a version I found so upsetting was in circulation. If it was just tags, I’d have blocked, but it being an addition is different. I don’t think asking people not to make my posts about it is “policing what other people do on the internet”. You’re in MY house, on MY post with MY art I spent hours on. Making additions to art posts already seems somewhat rude to me, that’s just not something you do, but I guess that’s a matter of the corner of tumblr culture you’re used it.

Also, their response felt very aggressive and condescending. They implied I was, like, a kid, and I do think I’m somewhat younger than them, but the only information about my age in my bio at the time was that I’m an adult, so it felt like a rude assumption. My age doesn���t have anything to do with it.

Again, though, I do absolutely see how my initial message could read as entitled. During the rest of our messaging, I did lose my temper a little bit at one point; I said something about how I’ve had to deal with shit in this fandom before, and I don’t remember the exact words since, again, we both blocked each other, but I know I swore at them. That might’ve come across as more aggressive than I wanted, and probably didn’t exactly help deescalate. (Can’t say for sure, I don’t have their side of the story)

Like I said, this situation was a bit ago now, but it upset me pretty bad at the time, and I’m still not entirely sure who’s in the wrong. So, AITA?

(Also to get ahead of this: please don’t make this about shipcourse in the comments. It’s not about that. They and I have similar opinions on that discourse from what I’ve gathered anyway. Thanks.)

What are these acronyms?

[zorosdimples]

THESE LITTLE DEATHS OF MINE ꒰ okkotsu yuuta x reader ꒱

minors do not interact—i will block you. cw: angst. reader’s stream-of-consciousness and emotions regarding yuuta’s line of work. ambiguous ending (hope is alive). brief sexual descriptions. reader is gn and implied to be shorter than yuuta. wc: 1031. notes: fingers crossed that this makes sense :’-) it’s a little all over the place.

A piece of you dies each time he recklessly throws himself in harm’s way.

Caring for others to the detriment of his own wellbeing is as natural to Yuuta as breathing. He won’t ever admit it (not in words, at least) but you know his heart better than your own. You have held it bloody and beating in your clammy palms, felt the muscle contract and expand, contract and expand; you have seen the truth buried within its chambers, vessels, and valves.

Yuuta believes his suffering is deserved—a cyclical debt he must repay for unwittingly chaining his childhood love to this realm.

Each little death is painful. Gasps of air clatter in your throat, unable to reach your screaming lungs. Violence rends your spirit and severs your very being, its splintered fragments crumbling to dust. You’re a vessel of who you once were, your boyfriend’s life your only concern, his medical updates the gospel.

It’s a basic trick of the mind—a twisted form of self-preservation—convincing yourself that your own injuries aren’t serious. Tattered nerves and a frayed psyche simply need stitching; what is ripped can always be mended.

Though every time you think you’ve grown accustomed to seeing him bear another senseless scar, you’re proven wrong.

═════════════════

Two hands can’t count all the conversations you’ve had like this, his body rigid and prone, your tears threatening to carve crimson rivulets down his wan face. There’s a cruel voice that whispers in your ear: from a distance, he looks like a corpse. A new wound weeps profusely on his abdomen, a weary smile tugging at his split lips. 

“I’m going to be okay,” he soothes before you can say anything.

It’s unconvincing. Maybe it would be easier to trust him if you hadn’t been in this exact position over a dozen times before. Yuuta soaks up your expression, honing in on the furrow between your brows. If he had a little more strength, he’d smooth over the wrinkle with his thumb—there, all better.

“I’ll be good as new in a couple days.” He tries to keep his tone breezy, but you hear a coarse rattle when he exhales. “Then we can laugh about this, yeah?”

Sniffling, you rub your puffy eyes with the heel of your palm. Your mouth curves into a pout, your lips the delicate petals of a flower curling shut. “Don’t make promises that you can’t keep.”

“I could never break a promise to you.”

You find the pulse point on Yuuta’s wrist, taking comfort in the dull lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. 

═════════════════

He decides to tell you now.

You’re crammed together in the shower, wet skin slipping and sliding, soap suds swirling across the tile and down the drain. The water is hot, steam fogging up the vanity mirror. (You both like to write your initials in the condensation, drawing a heart around them like lovesick teens—a silly way to reclaim some of your lost youth.) Yuuta diligently washes your body, nimble digits working at the knots in your shoulders before lathering your back. 

“Tomorrow morning, I have to leave for an assignment. I’ll be gone before you get up for work.” His voice is muted—a ghost of whisper—and you suck in a breath. His touch trails down your spine, lingering over each vertebra before he reaches your hips and grips the fat, thumbs stroking your softness. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone…”

It takes you a few beats to process the news; you release the breath you’ve been holding. You squeeze your eyes shut, tracing over the crack in your words before you speak. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

“I have to, my love.”

“I know you do.”

Deafening silence stretches between you like a void, filling the distance between your bodies.

“Say something,” Yuuta entreats.

He bows his head to smear a kiss against the nape of your neck. While the water is scalding, his lips are cold, and you tremble. Crystalline droplets blur your vision as you turn to your boyfriend, seeking solace in his embrace. A lithe arm wraps around your waist while the other cradles your head. 

“You don’t get to leave my side at all tonight. Not once,” you mumble into his chest. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I can’t risk disappointing you, can I?”

His irises are too deep, too blue—mournful as the twilight sky.

═════════════════

It always plays out the same, the evening before he leaves. You’ve made a ritual of it, a sacred, holy rite. There’s an unspoken understanding between the two of you that this could be it—which is why you must devour each other wholly. 

Loving and being loved by Yuuta is usually honey-slow and tender. But when everything is at stake, you can’t get enough of one another. It’s reminiscent of your first time together: sloppy kisses that wet your chin, blooming marks that litter your bodies, stuttered confessions in the rare moment that you part for air. You finish around his fingers and tongue until you’re dizzy and pliant. And by the time he enters you, a flame engulfs his movements, everything brutal and incandescent with passion. It’s his declaration of love. Of possession. Of yearning. 

“Don’t leave me,” you cry, clawing at his shoulders—your lifeline.

“I’ll be back,” he promises. “I’ll come back to you. Always.”

Eventually, you collapse in a heap of damp sheets and sticky flesh, your limbs inextricably tangled, your lover still buried inside you. Moonbeams slip through the edges of your curtains while you drift off as one.

═════════════════

The trill of the alarm startles you awake. The room is empty—save for your lone figure, nude and sore. You roll to Yuuta’s side of the bed and nestle beneath the covers; the herbal scent of shampoo clings to his pillow. If you close your eyes, you can pretend he’s beside you, gazing at your profile with disarming adoration. 

I’ll be back. 

You revisit that moment, play it frame-by-frame, memorize his insistent stare and the decisive set of his jaw. A stray tear pearls at the outer corner of your eye and rolls down your temple, wetting his pillowcase. 

I’ll be back. 

Hopelessly, you wish that Yuuta didn’t have a habit of making promises he can’t keep.

═════════════════

[missfrustration]

strictly psychic business (reigen arataka x fem!reader) 18+

A/N: my first fanfic i wrote on ao3 two years ago. gonna crosspost my catalogue on there to tumblr! this is part 1 of my 'messin' with a psychic' series.

rating: explicit! minors do not interact please!

tags: smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, oral sex, good person reigen arataka, smoking, one night stands, hook-up, top reigen arataka, light dom/sub, bro eats it like a madman, wacky socks, consent is sexy!!, no use of y/n

word count: 8k

You held the invitation to tonight's networking mixer in your right hand and your purse in your left as you scampered down the street. You were about a block away from the most prominent business event center in downtown Seasoning City, running slightly late. You cursed yourself for taking too long to get ready. On top of that, you should’ve figured that being a visitor of this side of town also meant it would take you longer to get there due to the unfamiliarity.

Looking in the mirror earlier, you felt too good to walk out the door so fast. You donned a silky blue mid-length dress that hugged your curves while still being modest. The front was a very subtle v-cut, while the back revealed almost half of your back. Your hair was styled earlier this morning, and your makeup was soft glam with a hint of dramatic brown eyeliner. Because of this, you had sway with each step of your walk that slightly lessened as you reached the event’s doors.

As you glance at the fancy door’s golden handle, you hear a voice coming from inside. You cringe, knowing it’s the host of the event. As you slowly open the door, your suspicions are confirmed. The CEO of the host company is finishing his welcoming speech, as everyone watches him on the main floor. This is horrible timing for you to walk in, but you take your chances. You meet a few pairs of eyes slightly gawking at you once you enter the room. They seem stragglers themselves from the way they are distanced from the main crowd, so you don’t mind.

As the host bro makes one more finishing statement, you scan the room more as people start to clap. You are hoping to spot some familiar faces from your company, only to be disappointed by the mass of bodies mostly turned away from you. Although it was a little isolating, you think you blended in with the others well enough that no one was giving you scowls.

From the corner of the hall, you spot a man that captures your attention. While everyone’s formed social cliques, is on their best behavior, and in classy attire, the man before you is the exact opposite. This dirty blonde in a tacky, gray suit is lazily leaning against the wall about 50 feet away from you. Plastered on his face is the most indifferent look you’ve ever seen. You notice his legs crossed over which reveal…some very eye-catching socks. Because of the distance, you can’t see the design save for the neon yellow and deep brown they have on them. They are very noticeable under his suit pants that were tailored too short for his legs. It’s impossible to tell if his pants were intentionally short or if it was just secondhand. One hand is resting above his head while the other is picking in between his teeth. As the audience roars with applause, he kicks off the wall and yawns.

People start to disperse around the hall now, both talking amongst themselves and heading to the different fancy food stands. You lock your eyes back on the blonde, only to be met with his eyes. He’s looking straight at you with a goofy smirk on his face. Before you could react, the contact was broken from the groups of people filling your vision. You get slightly annoyed at the crowd, and keep staring, waiting for the commotion to clear up. By the time you could look again, he was gone. You click your tongue, feeling like an idiot for trying to stare at some random stranger. ‘Whatever,’ you think, ‘let’s get this thing over with.’

-

About an hour has gone by since you arrived at the venue, and you’ve been relentlessly worn out. After meeting with some colleagues shortly after arriving, you meet some of the businessmen who are associated with the main companies that have sponsored the event. While you let your colleagues do most of the talking, you half-heartedly listened in on the conversations. You despised the networking aspect of your job. You could tell everyone, including collogues, feigned an excessively polite attitude while speaking to one another. It was all an act to create these hallow connections. After about an hour of this, with a minimal amount of business cards and contacts in your pocket, you dismissed yourself and found your way to the luxurious bar area. Typically, mixers don’t provide bars, much fewer ones that are all expenses paid. You can’t believe they had all this money to sponsor this… so you were taking advantage of it for the rest of the night. As soon as you got there, you flagged the bartender and ordered a vodka lime. As you sipped, you scanned faces at the bar table. If only…

You would want to talk to him. Out of all the different suited men, he was the most on your mind tonight. Exactly why, you weren't sure, but being able to ask him why he was here in such an idle way would give a little clarity. You wanted to know why you found him so enticing.

Then you spotted him.

He’s at the end of the bar with a big platter of food and a lemon sour. His finger is in his ear, and he slightly squints when pulling it out. Oh wow. And he doesn’t give a fuck. Hm.

By the time you decide if sparking a conversation is a good idea, you’ve already sauntered over to him. After your first glass, you were acting impulsive. His platter of food looks like it was previously filled to the brim judging by the number of empty toothpicks and cherry stems that scatter the plate. Only a few fruit cubes and a mini sandwich are what's left. You stop in front of him and briefly check out his socks. Upon close inspection, you can finally figure out that the brown and yellow socks he’s wearing are crudely drawn cartoons of monkeys and bananas, respectively. Oh, tooo funny, you thought. He sways his head up to look at you, slightly chewing the rest of the contents in his mouth as he tilts his head.

“Hey there.” You stifle a laugh. “Nice socks.”

“Hey, it’s you from earlier. That girl who came in super late. Thanks, I take pride in my appearance.” He emphasized the super and pointed to you as he took a small sandwich held up by a toothpick on his platter and chomped into it.

“Wow, the one and only. This seat taken?”

“What do you think? Be my guest, sweet thing.” He gestures towards it dramatically as you scoff at the name and sit.

“It’s not sweet thing,” you proceed to informally introduce yourself to the man with your name. “By the way, I didn’t stand out as much as you, Mister… uhh-”

“It’s Reigen. Reigen Arataka. The Greatest Psychic of the 21st Century is at your service. I would give you a business card but I’ve run out for tonight. You interested in my services?”

Not the services you typically offer. You thought. Stifling a laugh, you continue, “Psychic, huh? Why the hell did you get invited to a tech mixer? This doesn’t seem to be your scene anyway.”

“I’m just that good I’m needed everywhere. Actually, I could ask the same out of you, Miss I’m-too-pretty-for-this-place.” He emphasizes the last sentence with flashy hand movements, finishes the sandwich, and starts gnawing on the toothpick with a rather indifferent expression. Rodent-style.

You held back a blush at his subtle compliment and fire back, “That so? I was required to come here for company reasons and not of my own accord. Now, why don’t you answer my question about why you’re really here? I’m not buying your story.” You lean forward in your seat and look right at Reigen. He looks at you with a somewhat confused face, puts down his now abused toothpick, and sighs.

“I don’t fancy your attitude, I might just not tell you. Not that it’ll matter either way.”

“What about another drink in return?” You use your thumb to point at his now empty glass, offering to get him a new one in exchange for some answers. He’s fascinated you at this point, so you would love to see this conversation fully.

“I’ll pass. ‘M not trying to piss myself blackout drunk at the nearest gas station.” As he says this, he reaches into his suit pocket and grabs a pack of smokes. “Care for a cancer stick instead?”

“If I get what I want.” He shrugs at your response as you both head out to the nearest exit. It seems to be an outdoor patio about a hundred feet away from the bar and would be considered vacant save for the few bunch hanging around.

“Fine by me.” He responds. After two attempts, Reigen takes one cig out of the box with his mouth. He then meekly takes one out for you, and quickly retreats the pack in his pocket. The cigarette starts wiggling up and down gently in his mouth as you both start walking to the outdoor patio. As you watch him do this you nearly trip into the screen door. Reigen opens it for you in time, however. You hear him snort as he maneuvers his arm to keep it from bumping into you. It’s a small, sweet, and awkward gesture.

As you walk out, you met with a slightly cool air kissing your skin and amber lights dangling on the pergolas above you. There are a few seating areas with even fewer suited men smoking cigars and chatting. You both migrate to the balcony area, which looks over Downtown Seasoning City. It’s a beautiful sight that wraps up the whole venue, even if it’s not as noticeable to most of the guests.

“So… you're in tech?” Reigen hands you your smoke as he pulls out his lighter and brings it to his fresh one. It takes a considerable amount of flicks to light up and barely lasted long enough to light up the cigarette.

You shrug, largely unengaged with his question. “Yeah, software developer- My turn, what’s your angle? You should answer this time.” You lean back against the balcony with a smirk and lock eyes with him.

“You wanna know that bad huh?”

You nod, moving in closer.

“For the food honestly. That’s my answer, you happy?” He gives you a shit-eating grin, obviously enjoying the annoyed look on your face.

You pause for a moment and sigh, “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Oh well.” He chuckles at your response before it eventually dies out in the night air.

There is a moment of silence shared between you. Reigen drags a puff out of his cigarette as you think about excusing yourself. You should’ve guessed that you wouldn’t be satisfied with the answer of the man with unsightly, mismatched socks. Before you can, however, he speaks up.

“I wasn’t invited actually.” He sighs. You peer up at him with a raised brow. He continues, “They saw the suit and just let me in. I came here at first wanting to advertise my services to other businesses but instead got bombarded with them doing the same thing. It was obvious they didn’t even hear what I was saying to them… they are just so dang caught up on the next line they plan to say.” He takes another long drag of his cigarette and looks out to the city. “After the first few I gave up. I guess I can’t blame them, so I thought I would stick around and eat what I can. After all, free food digs, so I’on mind.”

You hum in approval and cross your arms. He seems like the type to rarely open up to others, much less a stranger like you. You appreciated the effort. Eyes still locked on him, you chuckled “You act more naturally telling the truth. I like that. To be honest, it blows ass. Welcome to my world, baby,” You gesture to the venue dramatically and give a half-hearted chuckle. “This just comes with the territory.”

“Sounds like it sucks. I feel bad for ya.” He looks back at you, a slight blush on his face due to the cold. You see he has a somewhat nervous demeanor for a few seconds before quickly switching back to his previous suave one. The subtle compliment you’ve given him must’ve struck a chord after all. After a few moments of locking eyes, you discover the deep brown that envelops his pupils. They resemble the color of deep, rich honey. You blush at yourself due to your admiration of a nearly total stranger and have to break eye contact out of pure embarrassment. He points to your cigarette gingerly, “Uhh, you need a light… yet?” It makes you snap out of any deep thought you were in.

You nod, “Yeah, if you don’t mind.” You never smoke, but you didn’t want to deny Reigen for fear that wouldn’t have indulged in your interest in him.

He takes out the lighter from inside his suit pocket again and scoots closer to you. He gently wraps his hands around the cigarette being lightly held by your lips and tries to flick the light to life.

Flick, flick, flick. Flick. Flick, flick.

Each time Reigen flicked the lighter, a light ignited quickly but died out quicker. You figured it was due to the lighter’s life nearing its end. The gradual wind isn't helping, either. He tries a few more times with his hand cupped more and body closer to yours.

“Tch. I don’t know if you will now.” He clicks his tongue again after the last try with his cupped hand lightly brushing your nose, sending a slight shiver down your back. You peer below his face and hands and just now notice his tie has been loosened and the button-down has the top two buttons undone, showing a glimpse of his collarbone. You two are so close that if you stretched out your hand a few inches, you could touch his chest. Does he know how enticing he is right now? You feel your breath hitch at the subtle appeal of it as you come up with a great solution.

“Sorry, ‘bout that.” He puts the cigarette back in his mouth as he retreats the lighter to the nearest pocket he can reach. As he takes a step back, you find the perfect opportunity to execute your plan.

“It’s alright. I found a better way, anyway.”

“What do you m-” You quickly step up to meet his face. You take your cigarette and meet it with the lit-up end of his. You lock eyes with a now surprised Reigen as you gracefully blow in through your cigarette to light it. Your faces are so close to each other that it causes both of you to blush. Reigen hitches his breath as he looks deep into your doe-like eyes with more intrigue. He’s suddenly way more interested in your intentions than he had been up to this point. However, you can tell this is very out of his comfort zone, as when you pull away, he’s frozen with both hands in the air and a cigarette holding onto his mouth for dear life.

You try to act as suave as you can about it, however. In a tone that sounds largely unaffected by what you’ve done, you remark, “Thanks, Reigen. Didn’t know I needed that until now.” You then take a long drag off your freshly lit cigarette with a flirtatious grin. You needed the nicotine as relief at this point to calm your nerves down, both excited and nervous about how he’ll react to your advances.

It takes a moment for him to respond. “Wow, I suppose like my women forward now.” He breathily says. He somewhat fidgets with his tie as he composes himself into that rather matter-of-fact demeanor again. “Are you trying to turn me on right now? Because it is so working.” You admired the way he could switch up so fast. It made it more enticing to get him riled up. He finally caught on to your flirting, too.

“Oh, of course not, sir.” You fake feeling accused, lifting your hands in surrender. “I wanted to talk strictly business here. My work is very professional, in fact.”

He ignored how ironic it is that you state how professional you are when you were the latest out of all the people at this mixer.

“Something tells me you’re not in the mood to talk about work either,” Reigen sarcastically states as he raises an eyebrow. He lifts his cigarette to flick the ash off. It sparks something primal in you as your last sense of inhibitions finally snap.

“Oh wow, I wonder what gave it away. So,” You step in closer and lean up to whisper in his ear, “What will you do about it?” Your lips lightly brush the lobe of his ear, and Reigen jumps from your hot, moist breath.

Reigen doesn’t respond for a moment. You see a drop of sweat roll down his forehead as you feel his arms shift around you. A thought briefly passes your mind, Why is bro so sweaty? “I see,” he murmured, “Well in that case...” You suddenly feel his hand firmly on the small of your back that skims just above your ass. The grip is firm and causes your breath to hitch.

“Sorry, it’s been a while. I’m surprised,” He doesn’t look as nervous anymore, now sporting a lustful grin. You sigh in both relief and lust as he finally states, “but I get the gist of what this is.”

“Yeah? And what do you think this is?” You start to toy with his pink tie as you look at the man merely inches away from your face. The amber lights of the patio reflect on his face and bring a spark behind his eyes.

“Heh. C’mon, I’m psychic, remember? I know what you want. Let’s go already.” He gives you a mischievous look as he starts leading you off of the patio with his hand still firmly placed. You shiver so much at his touch, it's enthralling. You can’t imagine how you’ll feel if things go beyond this.

“Well, I mean,” his hand leaves you as both wave around so frantically it's hard to follow. He abruptly stops and holds out his hand, inviting you to take it. He releases a breath that seems less easygoing than Reigen hoped for, and more exaggerated. “Uh, no pressure. Only if you want.”

You stifle a laugh as he gingerly takes your hand in his. You can feel the slight, no scratch that, excessive clamminess in his hands. You find it cute, but really… why is bro sweating so much? Whatever, a risk to spend the night with him is just what you need.

“You’ve caught me, Reigen. My hotel is only a few blocks away. Now, show me what a psychic can really do.”

--

As soon as you closed the door to your hotel suite you kick your shoes off, ready to jump Reigen. You spent the travel to your hotel mostly in idle conversation. Just from the few minutes, you learn that Reigen’s life is filled with interest that makes you further intrigued by his mystique. While it made you more intrigued, it made you even hornier.

What could you say, you were willing to see what powers this psychic really packed.

By the time you were prepared to pounce, you felt his hands latch onto you. With a soft but steady grip, Reigen pinned you against the wooden door of the hotel room. You shuddered at his forwardness, as well as the cold surface your semi-bare back was pressed up against. He doesn’t do anything following this for a while, however, and you squirm under his gaze for a moment before you break the silence.

“Hey,” You awkwardly said.

“Hey,” He says back. “This… this is okay, right?”

He lightly brushes your shoulder with his thumb, showing that’s what he was talking about.

“You’re cute. You ask me that after pinning me?” You blush as you giggle.

He blushes in embarrassment and rubs his hand behind his head. “Man, my fault… you’re sexy. You’re right, though. I apologize.”

You breathily respond, “It’s okay,”

“I can kiss you though, right?” He asks in barely a whisper as he leans in closer to almost touch your lips. You softly smile, nodding your approval. Like clockwork, you feel his lips press against yours tenderly for the first time. They are warm and soft, but a little chapped at the fullest part. His hand reaches the bottom of your jaw to lightly lift it, deepening the kiss. As you melt into it, a soft breath lewdly escapes you.

You want more of him, so much more than a kiss. You needed it now. Wanton ignites in your core as you hold his head between your hands. Your tongue reaches between his twitching lips, pleading for entrance. To your satisfaction, he swiftly obliges and invitingly parts his lips for you. You feel him shudder against you as you slip your tongue to collide with his. It ignites something in him, further deepening the kiss as much as he can.

The tender kiss you both shared is now escalating into an intense makeout session. With it, comes a plethora of flavors on his tongue that dances with yours. You taste the hints of lemon sour on his tongue, along with a slight taste of the food bar helpings he had at the mixer earlier. Above all, the taste of tobacco from earlier lingers, covering the insides of his mouth. You so softly shiver from the sensation.

Tonight was the night exclusive for only the two of you. It’s a night full of impulse and lust, which you would love to take to the fullest. Reigen must feel the same too, as confirmed by his break of the kiss. He must be reading your mind or something with how great his timing is. He lightly hovers his hand over the smallest part of your waist and looks deep into your eyes, “Is it good to touch you here?”

You meet him with the prettiest doe-eyes Reigen has ever seen. Although he peers into innocent hues of brown, he’s thinking of anything but innocent thoughts. After a moment of catching your breath, you give him a nod yes, which he instantly reacts to. However, he’s relieved that your waist is still clothed by your dress, as his now extremely clammy palms won’t be detected by you just yet.

He places his palm firmly on your waist and slides it up and down to gently caress it as continues his tirade on your mouth. You softly groan into it as your tongues dance together. His grip presses into your skin firmly, further locking you between him and the cool wooden door on your back.

He breaks the makeout periodically and asks the same question for your shoulders, down to your waist again, down to your hips. His touch is slowly driving you wild. It’s like he’s slowly teasing you, waiting for the perfect time to take it a step further. It’s riling you up and leaves you panting, wanting more.

With his free hand, he brushes your hair back and breaks the kiss once more. In a breathy rasp, he asks, “Can I kiss right here?” With his lips now hovered over the side of your neck.

Your core tingles at his words. In anticipation, you hold your breath as you whisper yes. He hungrily takes your neck in his mouth, starting with a wet kiss in the center. He connects his tongue to the kissed skin and traces it down to the top of your shoulder. You lull your head to the side to give him more room to work his magic. He stops briefly to caress your waist more as he travels back to the neck. He takes his lips and slowly peppers your neck with small kisses right up to the ear. You lean into his mouth as it slowly sucks onto the lobe of your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine as you mewl in approval. Your ears are too sensitive for this in all the right ways.

“What… What about here?” You hear the faint shudder in his voice as he whispers in your ear. His voice sends a spark from you as you realize what he’s asking. You peer down to see his hand lightly brushing over your left breast. Satisfaction washes over you after what has felt like hours of this little game he’s been playing.

“Please, Reigen.” You panted.

That’s all the motivation he needed. He releases a hot breath of relief, you squeak a little as he grabs your clothed breast in his hand and squeezes. His mouth stays on your ear as he nips and pecks all over. You instinctively grab a head full of his hair and tug at it as you slightly pant.

His touch is driving you crazy, your body feels like it’s being put into a trance by this psychic. It was so much, it wasn't enough. Either way, you knew that you needed more from him. You jump the gun and lean into him.

“Please touch me more, Reigen. I need more.”

Your words snap him out of his actions as he locks eyes with you, a bead of sweat rolling down his face as he responds. “My bad… it’s been a while. What do you want me to do exactly?” The pitch in his voice rises higher than it needs to at the last sentence.

You take Reigen’s tie in your hand as you lead him into the bedroom part of your suite. “First, can you help me with this zipper?” You turn around so your back is facing him.

“Oh, sure thing.” You think it takes him a bit to realize you mean the dress zipper, as Reigen stands idle for a moment. After a few moments, you hear him shift and land his hands on you.

He somewhat fidgets with the dress, lightly grazing the bare area of your back and checking the edges of the fabric for the zipper. You barely hear him murmur, ”What the- how do I even get this thing off...Ah! There we go.” which causes you to giggle.

“Got it- Hey, don’t laugh!” He lightly stammers. You both revel in an awkward moment, which pauses as soon as you both hear your dress fall to the ground. You forgot the zipper of the dress reaches down to your ass, which makes the dress instantly slip off if zipped down all the way.

The chilly air of the air-conditioned hotel suite instantly hit your back as you indistinctly arched into Reigen. His hands land on you as you fall back into him. Instantly, the concentration of his scent is prevalent when you lay the back of your head on his shoulder. You smell the cheap cologne he had on his neck, and the musk he carried which must’ve elevated from the amount he’s been sweating tonight. Finally, you could detect the familiar smell of cigarettes on his clothes.

“You… really don’t know what you’re doing to me right now.” He peers down at your now highly bare body with more of his hot breath landing on you. As you turned around to face him, he has a full view of your figure. Except for your frilly panties covering your ass, you left nothing to the imagination. You watch as Reigen slowly gazes at every curve and edge of your figure. From the plushness of your lips to the fat on your arms, the fullness of your chest and hardened nipples, to the small of your waist and wide hips you have, to the plump shine of your legs.

“God, you’re so sexy like that. I won’t be able to resist myself anymore.” He spits out. He covers his mouth with his hand as a dark blush envelope both of you.

You place his hand on your cheek and look up, “Then, touch me wherever you want.” You plead with him.

That seems to do the trick. He locks you into yet another feverish kiss as you help him out of his upper garments. He throws his blazer to the side. The pink tie swiftly slips off of him along with the button-up you both work on taking off. You instantly claim the newly exposed skin with your hands as he does to you. You feel the slight sweat on his body and palms as you both explore each other. He keenly grasps your breast once again, and you moan in excitement. He studies your face to see its reaction as he toys with both of your hardened nipples in between his fingers. He leans down and pops one into his mouth while continuing to play with the other. You rake your nails down his back, which causes his teeth to graze over the areola, sending electricity down your spine and heat through your core. You arch your back and lightly pant from the sensation.

Reigen comes back up with a pop that echoes throughout the room. He groans in approval. You were on fire with lust at this point. Needing relief, you grabbed his chin and lean into him.

“Reigen,” You mewl in his ear, “I’m gonna be honest with you. I'm really fucking wet right now and I might die if you don't do something about it asap.”

You swear you feel Reigen slightly jump into you in response. Suddenly in one fluid motion, he squats down, picks you up by your middle, and lifts you. Instead of dropping you, he carries you to the bed and softly presses you into the sheets. He sits back up and catches his breath, wiping the sweat off his brow. You raise your eyebrow, waiting for his response.

“I can uh, definitely do that for you. Now, is that a comfortable position for you?”

You gulp and nod your head. You rub your thighs together in anticipation as you realize just how wet you are. Your underwear feels slick against your heat due to how sodden it is. You whimper a little from the sensation as Reigen perks up from your sounds. He also craves more of you as you do him. He’s about to show you how serious he is about this.

“Great. Can I take this off?” Reigen gently asks, standing over you from the bed. You hold your breath and nod as his skinny fingers instantly hook around your panties. You feel the garment slowly slide down your legs, closing them to not reveal to Reigen how wet you are. You watch as he tosses them to the side and looks at you with a confused look.

You’ve grown a little nervous now, biting your lip and looking away from him to not reveal anything. It’s embarrassing that you didn’t think about this until after the man has you stripped down to the tee: you haven’t shaved in a bit. It’s not too bad, but it would be enough to ruin his night if he’s into bare skin only.

“Um, I haven’t… I haven’t shaved in a few-”

“A real man hunts through the jungle.” He deadpans.

“H-huh?”

“You heard me. I take pride in… well, you’ll see. But you won’t see if you’re like this.” Reigen sighs, gesturing to your body and slightly pinching the bridge of his nose before looking back to you. “What I’m trying to say is, it doesn’t matter to me if you have or haven’t.”

On his immediate response and genuine tone, you could tell he was serious. Of course, you still wanted to do this, but still, your thighs rubbed together, causing you to blush even harder. You feel his thumb gently on the plumpness of your calf.

“Relax. Open sesame.” He softly orders, raising an eyebrow. “Will you do that for me, darling?”

You swallow thickly. Now that you think about it, it’s him. The psychic before you sweats a little excessively and has the least business casual socks you’ve ever seen. You trust him, nod back to him, and begin spreading your legs. He smirks in satisfaction, blushing deeply.

“I’ll show you how much that means to me.” He soothed.

He grips both inner thighs and spreads them for a full view, causing you to bite your lip and squirm under his gaze.

“Wow,” Reigen stammers, “you weren’t kidding when you said wet.”

Reigen admires as your cunt glistens in the moonlight. Its illumination makes your juices almost sparkle as it seeps around your lips and down to your ass. “So beautiful.” He thinks out loud.

You feel his hot breath tingle against your heat, causing you to whimper in pure wanton.

“Please, please-” A moan rips through your throat and stops the words in their tracks when you feel Reigen’s hot tongue glide against your inner thigh.

“Relax, I said. I’ll take care of it.” He cooes, wanting to let his mouth do the talking.

His fingers keep a hard grip on the hamstrings of your legs, not letting them close in again. His tongue traces shapes and squiggles around the skin of your inner legs–slowly reaching their way toward your pussy. You start panting in anticipation. What a fucking tease he was. The psychic knew just what to do for you to want him more.

Your hips buck up trying to meet his lips, but to no avail. You groan in frustration, cursing the grip he had on your thighs. Your pussy throbs with the need for him to go further. He gets the hint, however.

“So needy!” He playfully huffs. God, he’s a piece of work.

Your thoughts are cut short as Reigen’s tongue traces one line from the bottom of your slit, to the tip of your clit. An inhumane noise spills off of your tongue and you unconsciously wrap your calves around Reigen to envelop him. He returns to the bottom again, tongue practically gliding in and out of your folds. There was little to no friction due to how wet you’ve gotten. He’s tasting all of you with one motion.

He flattens his tongue out on top of your clit. His right-hand releases the hold on your leg as it traces around your slit. With his fore and middle finger, he squeezes your labia, sandwiching your clit between them. With his now pointed tongue, he explores the bud with urge, keeping steady eye contact with you while doing so. You tremble under him, fisting his hair.

He begins a relentless pace on your sensitive bud. Electricity runs down your spine as you buck your hips into his face further. He already buried his face into your heat, lapping up all of your juices and slowly building up those white, hot coils of pleasure you’ve been craving. With the pace he’s going, you aren’t too far off.

Reigen's dark brown eyes study you during this. He wants to enjoy every reaction, every moan, every pant that you make under his touch. Your responses help him see what certain angles and touches get you undone. With a sweaty forehead, he quickly brushes the hair out of the way as you admire him. He looks so beautiful like this.

You whip your head back in bliss, unapologetically basking in your arousal. Fisting his hair, you use it to guide him in all the right spots faster, quicker. He looks at you, with a darker blush covering your face as moans and whimpers come out of plump, parted lips. He could tell your close too, and strategically laps it up like a madman.

You come undone further when he dips two long fingers inside your folds, curling in and out at a dizzying rhythm. He perfectly reaches the gummy spots inside you and pumps into them with vigor. His tongue increases its pace, creating sloppy sounds on your swollen clit from his spit and your juices. All the stimulation he’s given and the hard eye contact he’s given you this whole time is starting to unravel you. It was becoming enough to climax you right then.

“F-fuck, Reigen!” You start to lose your composure, mewling his name over and over as your grip on his hair trembles and your legs start to spazz. Your hips sporadically jerk all over Reigen’s face as you ride out your orgasm. Your back arches, seeing hundreds of stars in your vision, and shockwaves grip your body. You sing his name one last time like it’s honey on your tongue as your entire body goes limp.

You go completely still, basking in the afterglow from Reigen’s work. You’re guessing that his way of saying that he was rusty earlier was a cop-out. He was way too skilled for his own good. Frankly, if this is his version of being rusty, you are nervous about what he’d be like if he brushed up more on his game.

After a moment, Reigen comes back up and looks at you, finally pulling his fingers out of you.

“Holy crap! You came pretty quickly.” You glance at his face. Different types of juices from your pussy and his mouth have covered his whole face and dripped down his chin. His hand is floating in the air, with fingers covered in some of your creamy, sticky substance.

“No shit. You’re really good at that.” You cooed, sitting up.

“Of course. I take pride in all of my abilities.” He smirks.

He lays his fingers on your bottom lip, inviting you to suck on them. Looking deep into his eyes, you do so graciously. You messily lick it up, tasting the tanginess you’ve made. He seems pretty satisfied with this.

You just now notice the ache in his pants. Under his suit pants, his throbbing dick is almost begging to be let out. He notices you staring right at the tent, causing him to palm it for some release. His face slightly scrunches up, and you realize he needs this as much as you do.

“What do you want to do now, Reigen?” You roll his name on your tongue like butter.

His lips meet yours, causing you to taste yourself once again and focus straight on Reigen when he pulls away.

“I want to see you, I want to see you come,” He says shamelessly staring at your body. His hot breath dances over you.

You pretend to ponder his request, acting like you have to consider if you want to or not. “Hmm. I think we can work something out.” You respond, seeing some relief washing over his body.

With grace, you start undoing his belt for him. You unbuckle it, tossing it over with the other abandoned garments. He finishes the rest, shimmying off the suit pants and boxers, giving you a very generous view of what he was hiding.

You gulped at the girth of his cock. Under the shine of moonlight, you can see the length is average but very thick in girth. The tip was pink with a shaft decorated with several veins. Honestly, it doesn’t match up with the skinny build he has, but you weren’t complaining. Reigen watches as you lick your lips, telling him you like what you’re seeing.

The first impressions of his freed member completely distracted you from those socks again. Now without his pants covering them, you see that his socks are abnormally long. They go halfway up to his calves. You blink in disbelief. Bro what.

“Again, nice socks. You keepin' them on?” You tilt your head in confusion. If he didn’t just finish giving you the best head in ages, you would have really questioned why you brought this man here. You really couldn't take mismatched monkey and banana socks seriously.

“Yup, they bring me good luck. Take this night, for example, that’s what attracted you to moi, correct?” His eyelashes playfully flutter as he flamboyantly gestures to them. He sits down on the bed, adjusting himself to directly face you.

You scoff at him and roll your eyes, trying to take him down a few pegs. “Yeah,” you giggle, “something like that.”

“Hah, that’s what I thought!” He suddenly takes the meat of your hips and pulls you towards him, causing you to gasp.

Your back falls against the bed, as Reigen sits over you.

“So, are you gonna show me what a psychic’s real powers are?” You jokingly purred.

“Only if you want me to, pretty girl.” He sits over you, rubbing the bottom of your cheek.

That’s all you want at this moment. He pulled you in the perfect position for him to sheath himself inside you at any point, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Please do, I need you inside me.” You beg him. Reigen steals your lips then in another steamy kiss, both of your bodies pressed together. His skin is warm against yours, feeling his cock rub right against you.

He pulls away and travels down your body in kisses and bites. He takes a few moments to suck the flesh around your breasts, leaving a few lovebites dancing around on your skin. When he reaches your legs, he takes both and gently places them on his shoulders.

Oh fuck. He was about to destroy you with this position.

He takes his cock, rubbing it up and down against your entrance to coat himself in your juices, earning a delicious whimper from you. He couldn’t help but admire the lewdness on your face. You look so beautiful like this to him. With one last question of consent and you nodding, he lines himself up with your entrance and tenderly pushes it in.

The feeling of him stretching you is so sensual, you start to hiss as you feel him inch by inch. You trembled, feeling your walls stretch farther than they’ve had before, taking a while for you to adjust. Every single inch you take in makes you want him more. You and Reigen both share a sigh of pleasure the deeper he plunges in, a deep blush speckling both of your skins.

“Fuck… hah, that's good. You have… no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” He grunts. His voice felt like a drug to you. He finally sheaths himself in you, feeling dizzy by how you swallowed him up with such warmth. He couldn’t control himself anymore.

“Show me then, Ara-AH!” You gasped as he suddenly pulls out just to hilt himself again, urgently. Seeing how well you’ve taken him, he continues with a raw, languid pace of pumps into your core.

Indescribable pleasure fills your body like electricity as your back arches. You feel stars each time he pulls out just to thrust himself back in again. Still, you haven’t fully adjusted to his girth, turning you into a moaning mess. You try to cover your mouth to stop the unholy noises from coming as your body clamps down around him. To no avail, you can’t even bite down on your lip to stifle them. You look at him, admiring the sweat running down his forehead as he lets out breathy groans and grunts from above. You grab onto his arm, nails digging into his flesh as you shudder from his girth. His face contorts into one of pure pleasure at each pump he dishes out to you, his hips powering the movements with vigor.

Your toes curl at the delicious sensation that you feel each time he fills you up. As pleasure takes over pain, you were desperate to move along with him. Unfortunately, your legs that are wrapped over his shoulders pinned you against him and the mattress, making it hard to move them against his firm shoulders. Your hips slightly roll up, bucking to meet his, resulting in a shock of pain and pleasure reaching you as he hits your g-spot just right.

You instantly dissolve into pleasure, lewdly reciting his name on your tongue like it was the death of you. With each pump, he was carefully unraveling you into a hot mess as you reached closer and closer to your climax

Against your better judgment, you moan his given name more, followed by a symphony of pleasurable hums and moans.

“Ugh, please say that again.” His pleading voice sounds so angelic, you had to oblige.

“Yes… Arataka. Hah…” You breathily moan.

“Again.” He growls, pulling out and pounding in even harder than before. The room radiates with the clapping of his balls against your wet cunt. Its lewd sounds and a new wave of pleasure from Reigen’s girth puts you into a new wave of existence.

“S-shit!” You follow with even more whines of his name. His pleas to keep you talking have you turned into an incoherent, blubbering mess under him. It was fucking hot being ordered around like this. You wouldn’t be able to resist the climax anymore

He picks up to an unrelenting pace, with his hips snapping up and down relentlessly on your already sore cunt. His hands lock onto the edges of your hips, giving him more force to pound into you. You squint your eyes shut and your knuckles turn white, awaiting the right moment to peak your crescendo. You just needed a little bit more.

In between his thrusts, it’s almost as if Reigen read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. In a slight pause, he praises you. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.”

His words push you over the edge. You thrash under his body, the orgasm taking over your entire being. You silently scream in pleasure with the widest mouth you could muster. You clamp around his member as spasms radiate throughout your body. Reigen’s breath hitches, watching the angelic show you’re giving him and almost stopping from how hard your walls have started squeezing around him. It flared a newborn vigor for him, however, as he tries to jackhammer through to his end.

After the first few seconds of the first wave, you whimper numerous profanities and praises on your tongue, barely registering what you are saying. You feel almost drunk off of Reigen’s touch, bucking up for more satisfaction.

Meanwhile, the show you’ve been giving Reigen sure has done well. He calls your name in pleasure, looking down at your flushed face as he also starts to slowly teeter over the brink of cumming. His pace is relentless, trying to chase of own end.

At times like this, you think it’d be good to give some words of encouragement. “Please, cum for me, Arataka.”

His damn explodes, shooting ropes of white hot cum inside of you. Reigen weakly rides it out, giving airy moans with each mindless thrust. Your walls milk every last drop of his seed that he has to offer to you, as his hips violently sheath into you once last time.

His body quakes under you as he also goes limp. He practically falls on top of you, your tits giving him a perfect cushion to rest his head upon. You gracefully accept, however, enveloping his sweaty body and damp hair around your arms.

You both take a moment to catch your breath, amazed with each other and yourselves for what a mixer night has brought. There’s nothing in the air for a while except for the two of you breathily recovering in your afterglow.

You mindlessly run your fingers through his dampened hair, fully satisfied by what this man had to offer to you. He put that work in, which was highlighted by the ripeness of his sweat.

After the silence of the night takes over, and you both have recovered from your climaxes, you look at his face, softly giggling when you see he’s been peeking up at you this whole time.

“Yeah. Not too fucking bad for a night, Mr. Psychic.” You purr to him.

“You said it, alright.” He responds, brushing the remaining strands of hair on your forehead. He pauses, “Y’know, if you ever want more of my services, definitely call whenever you need a, uh- spirit exorcism. I always treat my clients well.”

“I’m sure you do, Reigen.”

[anti-katsuki-lounge]

Saw someone saying that most people in the "bnha critical" hashtag mostly just "suck deku's dick" instead of actually criticizing the story. The same person also had another post basically saying that the reason why midoriya gets treated so poorly by the narrative is because every other character's traits were "erased(?) to make up for midoriya's bland character*" * I don't remember their exact words, but they said something similar to that

Those two posts gave me such a headache that I blocked them immediately

I really hate it when people say this.

I’m going to be honest, as someone who likes Izuku, there’s things you can definitely criticize about Izuku’s character. I think that he’s far too naive in certain situations and doesn’t get called out for it much. Him trying to see good in Overhaul is one of those instances. I think he suffers immensely from selective intelligence. He’s supposed to be great at thinking on his feet yet it takes him very long to realize that he could be throwing more kicks. I also think that as the story progresses, he becomes far less creative with his quirks. You get some rare moments like him using Black Whip from his mouth after being inspired by Tsuyu, but we rarely get these moments of his intelligence anymore. He’s also not allowed to really reflect on his past, so he’s extremely stagnant in regards to his views about things such as his quirkless past and the bullying he’s suffered from Katsuki.

However, Izuku isn’t a bland character. The problem is he has a bad writer. We could’ve seen more of his and Ochako’s relationship. Unlike many other relationships, the two are built around the idea that they constantly have each other’s backs. I wanna see more of this. I wanna see more of them bonding. Maybe Ochako asks Izuku for some hand to hand combat training. Maybe Izuku learns more about Ochako’s life/ her hobbies and tries to plan things for them to do that they both enjoy. Maybe they can have a heart to heart about constantly being underestimated and being a part of a group that is looked down upon (Ochako being poor and Izuku being quirkless). With Tenya, maybe the two can study together. Tenya’s great at retaining information but Izuku’s better at being creative, so they can help each other there. They could talk about their feelings of anger and how they feel they have a large legacy to uphold. With Shoto, we can have Izuku and him explore what a normal healthy friendship is like. We can have them confide in each other about the abuse they’ve been through and about their relationships with their moms. These are things that could easily be explored with a character like Izuku and Hori has set up the building blocks of Izuku’s character that allows for these things to be explored. The problem is that Hori doesn’t do any of this. We’re expected to believe that the DekuSquad are close knit with each other, but we don’t see them interacting in anything that isn’t related to heroics. We don’t see much of Izuku’s creativity anymore. He has numerous quirks, but even if some overlap with the others, there are cool combos a hero nerd like him could come up with, but instead Hori would rather have him do the exact same things over and over again. The way Hori writes Katsuki also hurts Izuku’s character. Outside of the first chapter, Izuku’s never allowed to show anything other than fear and admiration for Katsuki. He’s never allowed to be unique or else he’ll utterly surpass Katsuki in something (Katsuki’s latest B.S power up is an example of this). He’s not allowed to reflect on Katsuki’s bullying and the effect it has on him nor is he able to hang out with anyone without Katsuki being nearby or involved.

Long rant, I know, but the point is that while there’s certainly things you can criticize about Izuku’s character, most of the issues with Izuku doesn’t come from being a bad character but from being written by a bad writer who prioritizes other things over developing his MC

[five-rivers]

Figment (More than Imagination)

AO3

(Be warned that this is an unfinished snippet.)

“You’re really him.  The one from the festival.”  

Izuku had been hearing similar statements all morning, since before he’d even gotten on the train, but it still made him blush!  Was this what pro heroes had to deal with all the time?  Wow!  Izuku couldn’t imagine…  Well, he could, but…  The point was, he didn’t see any harm in turning and talking to the latest person to recognize him.  

‘The one from the festival’ was a lot nicer than ‘bone breaking kid,’ after all!

(And both were better than ‘useless deku.’)

Now, it was a little different being approached on the street, in the rain, only a few blocks from UA, rather than just being acknowledged by fellow commuters, most of whom he saw every day, and coming out of an alleyway to do it was strange, but the guy didn’t look like a villain.  Not that there was any particular villain look!  That was to say, the person coming from the alley didn’t look threatening.  He was thin, frail, even, and almost baseline human in appearance, with wavy brown hair, a nice shirt and a blazer, and a plain black umbrella.  The only things that stood out about him were that he had two pupils and vividly cyan irises in each eye, and that his fingernails were painted that exact same color.  Unless it wasn’t paint, and actually part of his quirk?  Maybe a five-point or other specialized-contact quirk with a visual component?  Not that Izuku should assume!

Oh!  And he should really respond instead of just standing there, staring.  

“Y-yep!  That’s me!  Th-the bone- bone breaking kid.”  He smiled at the man, as brightly as he could.  

“You look the same.  I was worried you would be… different.”

“Ah, well, don’t worry!  I didn’t get hurt that badly!”  He was still alive, right?  Even if Recovery Girl had said she wouldn’t heal him anymore…  “I’m- I’m totally okay!  But– Thank you for your support, mister!”

He bobbed a quick bow, then paused, unsure how to end this interaction.  A stranger being concerned about him was… not quite a first, but… it usually ended pretty fast.  

“I just… really want to shake your hand.  Please.”  The man held his right hand out, past the cover of his umbrella.  “It would make me so happy…”

Izuku was immediately on guard.  Maybe shaking hands upon first meeting someone new had been common in the past, but since the advent of quirks, it had become something reserved for the end of a meeting, one where people got to know each other fairly well, if that.  Handshake events with celebrities required in-depth background checks and squeaky-clean records, and even then the celebrities usually wore gloves.  Too many quirks were touch-based, too many quirks were destructive, or even just inconvenient, for the average person to feel okay with that kind of contact with strangers.  

“I- I don’t know,” said Izuku, taking a step back.  He didn’t want to be rude, and probably people asked heroes that all the time, but this was starting to get, uhm, uncomfortable.  “I- I mean!  I’ve still got all these bandages, so, it’s not very, um, good for me to be doing things with my hands!”  He glanced at his own umbrella and cringed a little.  “You know how it is.  Injuries!”

The stranger’s expression - which Izuku was kind of having a hard time interpreting - didn’t change.  He also didn’t put his hand down.  

Against his better judgment, Izuku leaned forward.  “Are you– Are you okay?  Mister?”

The man crumpled suddenly.  Izuku dropped his umbrella and rushed to his side, pulling out his phone.  “I’m calling an ambulan–!”

The man’s hand shot out, grabbing Izuku’s wrist.  His nails, sharper than they looked, dug into Izuku’s bandaged arm, deep enough to draw blood, and–

.

Several blocks away, well within the confines of UA, Yagi Toshinori’s eyes rolled up, into the back of his head, and he fell out of his seat, thoroughly derailing the staff meeting he’d been participating in.  

.

“Pardon?” said Nezu.  Answering the phone when perched on Aizawa’s shoulders was, perhaps, not entirely polite, but it was that or be underfoot while all of his very tall employees paced restlessly outside the nurse’s office.  “One of our students was involved in what?”

This, of course, got the attention of absolutely everyone in the hallway.  Excellent!

Not the student being involved in the incident, of course, but redirecting the staff’s attention to a problem that they could actually affect.  

“Yes, yes, I will be there shortly,” he said.  “Thank you for bringing this to our attention so promptly, Officer Tamakawa!”  He hung up.  “It appears as if one of our students was attacked by a villain on their commute and had an interesting reaction to the villain's quirk.  Aizawa, Inui, I’ll need you to head to the hospital to confirm the student’s identity and to provide support.”

“Support?” asked Aizawa, both his eyebrows going up.  

“The quirk in question has a psychological dimension, and there’s a worry that the student might lash out and injure themselves or others when they wake up.”

“Ugh,” said Aizawa.  “Inui, you’ll have to drive.  My eyes still aren’t back to normal.”

“Very good!” said Nezu, jumping down.  “I will have the police send the relevant information directly to your phone!”

.

“Takashima Takuto,” said Tsukauchi, sliding into the chair across the table.  "I have to say, I'm disappointed to see you again."

Takashima flexed his hands inside the special gloves the police force used to block his class of touch-based quirks and muttered unintelligibly.  

"Do you remember the terms of your release?" asked Tsukauchi.  

Takashima suddenly leaned forward, chest pressed flat against the heavy table between them.  "You don't understand!  I had to!"

"We'll get to that in a moment.  Do you remember the terms of your release?"

"I-" Takashima leaned back.  "I wasn't to use the active part of my quirk anymore."

"That's not entirely accurate.  You're missing a few parts."

Takashima swallowed and began to bounce his leg up and down.  "I was- I had to join the Fujitani Hospital psychiatric outpatient program, and I couldn't miss any appointments or medications."

"And?"

"And I had a- a work release where I could use my quirk… the active part of my quirk… if I had the… informed consent of the person, and approval of the hospital psychiatric board."

"Did you have either of those things when you used your quirk earlier today?"

"... No."

"So," said Tsukauchi, lacing his fingers together.  "Explain to me what happened."

“I was– It was– It was self defense!”

Tsukauchi raised an eyebrow.  “You’re claiming you were attacked?”

“Yes.  Yes.”

“By a hero student?”

“... Yes.”

“Who you’ve never met before today?”

“It was– It was out of nowhere.”

“Alright.  Where are your injuries, Mr. Takashima?”

“... What?”

“The boy you’re accusing of attacking you made it to the final eight in the UA Sports Festival.  The arena had to be rebuilt after he and his last opponent were done with it.  I find it difficult to believe that you were able to get away from him unscathed if he did attack you.  Would you like to try again?”

“I- I- But if I- I had to, don’t you see?  I’ve never seen anyone like him before!”

Tsukauchi sighed.  “Can you explain that statement?”

“I saw him…  Midoriya…  I saw.  With my quirk.  On the TV.  The sports festival.  I saw him and I… didn’t believe it, at first.  I’d never seen anything quite like that…  The figments, they were hardly figments… The were… even more than Miss Inoue… almost real even without me…  I had to.”

“Mr. Takashima, you recall that Miss Inoue almost died because of your reckless quirk use?”

“I was following the rules,” said Takashima.  “I told her what my quirk did.  I was a good psychiatrist.  This will help him, too, Midoriya.”

“We have no idea what the long term effects on Mr. Midoriya will be,” said Tsukauchi.  “As it stands, it sounds like you stalked him, ambushed him, and used your quirk on him without his consent.”

“I don’t… I had to.  I had to make them real, once I saw them.”

“As it stands, it is recognized that you’re suffering from Compulsive Quirk Use Disorder, so, per your prior agreement with the prosecutor’s office, you’ll be remanded into a residential psychiatric program later today.  Your lawyer’s been contacted, and should be able to give you more details.”  Tsukauchi stood up.

“But,” said Takashima, weakly, “I had to.”

“No,” said Tsukauchi, “you didn’t.”

.

“A bit harsher than usual,” observed Akabane.  

Tsukauchi scowled.  “He’s almost killed half a dozen people with his quirk, and he always says the same thing, and his mother’s family always gets him out of facing real consequences.  I’m tired of seeing him.  Mental illness is not an excuse for mutilating people.  This could have been prevented if the prosectors pushed for real intervention instead of that joke of a work release.  There are medications he could be taking!”  Tsukauchi angrily yanked a handful of paperwork out of the file folder on his desk and started filling it in.  

“Still,” said Akabane.

“Midoriya is…”  He let out a sharp sigh.  “A friend of mine’s been mentoring the kid.  I don’t really know him, but I know about him, and I don’t think my friend is going to take it well.”

“Ah,” said Akabane.

“It’s just– Do you know what happened to Miss Inoue?  She was a patient of his, when he still had his license to practice.  She had delusions of having worms crawling under her skin, eating her alive.  She was lucky she didn’t have a detailed picture of what those worms looked like.  They fell apart pretty fast.  Mrs. Yamaguchi was another one of his victims; he convinced her to go off her antipsychotics so she could confront her hallucinations of her abusive husband.  That stuck around a bit longer.  Those are the worst two, but they’re not the reason he got put on probation.  He started using his quirk on other people’s patients, and they reported him.”

“Nasty.  But it sounds like he has a problem, too.”

“Yeah,” said Tsukauchi.  “I just wish he’d gotten help for it faster.”

.

"Usually," said Dr. Aoki, as he led Aizawa and Hound Dog through the hospital, "the figments Mr. Takashima creates aren't so… lasting.  Or detailed.   Most of them lack significant internal organs or have other flaws that cause them to fall apart within a relatively brief period of time.  Their creation also usually doesn't take such a toll on the host.  I suspect the two things are related, but, well.  You can see why we're so concerned."

"What kinds of figments are we talking about here?" asked Hound Dog.  

"It's hard to say, precisely.  Doctor - excuse me - Mr. Takashima worked with a broad spectrum of patients with an equally broad spectrum of disorders.  If I had to guess, I would imagine some form of schizophrenia - that disorder can cause a wide range of detailed hallucinations - or Dissociative Identity Disorder - although that diagnosis has been controversial for years.  Since the pre-quirk era at least."  Aoki's hands fluttered.  "We're far more concerned about physical ramifications, anyway, which is why we called you here.  We have no idea how these figments might react to Mr. Midoriya or each other.  We have them in separate rooms for now."

Aizawa sighed.  "What are the figments of?  What do they look like?"

"That," said Officer Tamakawa, who was escorting them, "is a whole extra problem."  He stopped and opened a door, briefly.  Aizawa and Hound Dog looked in.  What was lying in the bed was unmistakable.

Tamakawa shut the door quickly.  

"You see?" he asked.  

“Was that a teenage All Might?” asked Hound Dog faintly. 

[theshiftingfairy]

Ok, i wasn’t going to talk about those posts that are coming recently into shiftblr, who spreads limiting beliefs from shifttok but here is my five cents on the issue :

i didn’t see them, like at all. Instead i have a feed full of people loosing their mind over shifttok taking control on tumblr and dictate what is right or wrong in shifting. And i completely understand the feeling, the moment i realised there where other platform than TikTok to find shifting information and motivation, i left the app for tumblr, where i found a lot more grace for the « old » shifter that i am (like, it’s not even an issue here, i wouldn’t have dared to state my age on shifttok so i mostly didn’t interact and was a silent viewer.)

And i think the reason i don’t see those misinformation posts is because when i did see posts like that when i arrived on the app, i rapidly scrolled past them and the algorithm understood i wasn’t interested. The way algorithms works is by measuring your engagement on posts and push on you content that are similar to what you are already the most engaged on. This is calculated by the likes and comment you leave of course, but it also takes note of how long you stay on one posts (i don’t know about tumblr specifically, this is in general). In any case, i don’t take any chance, if i don’t want to see more of something, i don’t even bother to block, i immediately scroll past it. And for me at least, it has been more effective than blocking.

And you can argue that it’s because i engaged with content complaining about shifttok it keeps being pushed on my page, i think it’s absolutely the case, i have a few people i follow who spoke about it and i did like some of those post and commented on some too. And tbh, i will stop engaging with those content because all i see is complaints, anger and frustration and yes, it is TikTok all over again, not because of people trying to control what others do, but because of people being frustrated.

I want my feed to be full of storytimes from people who have shifted, without it being romanticised by the readers, like i saw it happening often on TikTok, with people demanding more storytimes like it’s a tv show, or becoming incredibly rude when they did not agree with the choices made by the shifters they follow.

I want to see advices from others shifters sharing what is helpful to them, but not claiming this is how you shift and you have to follow those exact steps, because every one is different and different things work for different people.

I want to see scenarios idea, headcanon, scripts . I want to see shifters having fun with their dr without getting on each other’s throats because they don’t agree with what the other is doing. I think discussing a disagreement with respect is awesome, saying i don’t agree with you and move on is ok, harassing people and threatening them because you disagree with them is not leading anywhere and is only building up anger on both sides and it’s frustrating for me as well to watch.

My personal advice for those who are frustrated right now is to keep going with their usual content, ignore content you disagree with and see if it keeps being pushed to you and block if someone harasses you. I know when the shifting tags are used, there is more chance to see those content you don’t want, but i think it’s not worth loosing hair over it.

Again, explaining your point of view, and why think what you think while staying respectful is awesome. I saw amazing posts explaining age changing and race changing (@mywitchyblog all their post are amazing, and it is very important to have a blog tackling touchy subjects like this and open dialogue ) and if the other party can’t accept reasonable explanation, there is nothing left to do than block and ignore, they won’t change their mind. They just don’t want to.

They decided to police what others do instead of focusing on their own shifting journey. Honestly, they will either judge us too toxic and leave on their own or they will create a new community within the existing one.

The huge issue i see with this unfortunately is for new shifters, they wouldn’t know what content is good or bad, and if the community gets so divided it will be harder to know what to trust. That’s the only thing where, i don’t really know what to do except continue posting.

Anyway, i was mostly frustrated only seeing complaints and while i share the frustration, i think it’s best to focus on our own journey and continue sharing what is helpful to us.

Happy Shifting 🧚🏻‍♀️

[bicheetopuff]

i like izuku/ochaco the exact same amount i like bakudeku and sometimes i feel like i am the only man out there who does 😭 i really do not like izuku/ochaco shippers though... i feel like i can't reblog art of one of my favorite ships because i feel like i'm gonna accidentally reblog from someone who would send me hate for shipping one of my other favorite ships... i guess i gotta start learning how to draw ochaco better to fill in that void myself?? but still... i shouldn't have to be AFRAID to reblog good art because i'm worried i'm gonna be on some artists dni because i like bakudeku. NEITHER OF THEM ARE EVEN MY TOP FAV SHIP IN BNHA... but i'm still like... i just wanna ship. when did fandom become so... hostile. when did it become a warzone? back when i was younger we had shipwars but they were... silly? like at the end of the day we could step back and ship and let ship and even if we hated the other ship we would just blacklist the tag and move on. homestuck wasn't even this bad.

Bnha is my first experience in anime fandom and it’s literally the most aggressive and hateful fandom I’ve ever been in, on all sides… and ever since, anytime I try to touch a fandom for a different shonen anime, it’s almost just as bad, if not worse. ESPECIALLY if you interact with that fandom and openly like bnha too, because for some reason just liking bnha makes people in anime spaces completely discredit your opinion unless you’re a cishet man.

I think within the western bnha fandom specifically, we’ve all just kind separated ourselves into our own little corners of the internet. And tbh, I’m with you, I absolutely hate that the fandom has segregated itself like this.

While I don’t see Izu//ocha as a romantic ship, I still love their friendship and I love Ochako as a character, and like you said, I’ll see the most stunning fanart of her sometimes and I’ll check the artists account to see that bkdk is on their DNI list… and I literally run a bkdk blog. So I can’t reblog their art unless I wanna get blocked. Or, I’ll reblog art from someone and then find out later that they’re an avid bkdk or bk anti. It’s like you’re only allowed to like what you post about the most, and you’re not allowed to interact with anything else.

It expands outside of the fandom too. I made a comparison between bkdk and victuuri once and I ended up deleting the post because I kept getting comments from yoi fans saying that I was wrong and to never compare those two again… it wasn’t like a full blown meta, it was like a paragraph comparing their rivalry.

I don’t think it’s hostility just within the bnha fandom, I think it’s anime fandom as a whole being hostile towards specifically bnha because of the stigma surrounding it, and the bnha fandom reflects that by everyone being hostile towards bkdks and other queer shippers because of the stigma surrounding that as well. One of my friends irl got accused of being a p*doph*le literally just for saying she liked the anime (she was literally 16 at the time btw) and another one of my irl friends told me to sell my manga when she saw it on my shelf. It got to a point where I literally had to just stop telling people I liked it, which led me to making this blog so that I can talk about it without judgement, and even on tumblr it took a while for antis to leave us alone.

Idk when this fandom became a warzone, but I’ve only been here for the better part of three years and it’s been hostile ever since I got here. It’s like I willfully walked into a burning building.

I think every community for each ship just has their own biases for other shippers in the fandom, and it just makes us all get defensive because we automatically assume those stereotypes and we just think they’re automatically not going to like us, so we decide to not like them first. I’ll be honest, I keep my walls up too until I know talking to that person won’t start an immediate heated argument for no reason. Because some of those stereotypes are true, some communities within the fandom are just hateful for no reason and we have our fair share of keyboard warriors. Some people say “oh it’s just a few bad apples” but from my experience it’s like you’re looking through a basket of bad apples trying to find the good ones. And even then you have to be careful because it might be a bad apple that’s been painted in order to make it look good. I’m talking about fandom as a whole btw, bkdks alike.

I wish we could all just be nice to one another and not be creepy and weird when it comes to certain characters and ships. Like, can we just be normal? Can we ship and let ship? We can all have our opinions about other pairings, but can we not attack people for liking something just because we don’t see the appeal?

[rainbowredcrayon]

This blog is entirely SFW but I'd like to keep it adults-only for my comfort please! ☀️ I'd prefer heavily NSFW blogs to just look as well. Please do not interact with me if you post / discuss NSFW content with stuffed animals AT ALL please

If you're against age regression or like-minded communities or are a generally close-minded & judgemental person then this blog probably isn't for you 🌈

Hello there! 👋 My name is Nate, welcome to my Tumblr page!

I love rainbows and incorporating them into my life is very important to me. I love wearing colorful outfits, collecting stuffed animals and coloring with crayons 🖍️

I also work full-time as an illustrator professionally, you can find my art under the username “natedraws” pretty much anywhere online 🎨

✨ My Favorites ✨ 🌈Color: Rainbow, blue, pink, red 🦐Animal: Shrimp, pangolin 📚Book: The Velveteen Rabbit 🎞️Show: Spirit Riding Free 🎥Movie: Mr.Magorium's Wonder Emporium 🖍️Hobby: Coloring, reading, cross-stitch

For as long as I can remember I have struggled with being different from everyone around me, having interests in media and toys that are much younger then I should be. What causes this I don’t know, but as I’ve gotten older I am learning to embrace it instead of wishing I was different. It’s so important to be yourself even if others don’t understand! ✨

And again; if you are against age regression, littles, babyfurs, ect. Or are generally a close-minded & judgemental person then this blog probably isn't for you! This includes people who use labels you personally find "icky" ( despite them doing the exact same thing as you - just with a different word attached to it ). This is not specifically a blog for that, but themes / imagery of it might appear as it's apart of who I am that I do not categorize or seperate

🌈My Blogs: ( This is my main so follows come from here! )

🎨 @natedraws - My artwork 🧸 @rainbowredcrayon - My original photos, mainly pictures of toys, teddies, coloring pages, ect ( you're here! ) 🌈 @iloveteddiesandyou - Where I re-blog things, post photos that aren't "good enough" for here, and may occasionally personal posts 🐺 @dogsoulhumanbody - Otherkin related 🍃 @mayornate - Animal Crossing related 🐎 @spiritridingfreeblog - A blog dedicated to my main special interest; Spirit Riding Free 🍌 @rainbowminionlvr - A blog dedicated to my special interest in Minions

If a blog is not listed above 👆 it is not me

☀️My Tags:

All of my posts will have the tag of that specific teddies name, so if you search it you can find all posts that friend has been shown in

#others photos - Photos that other people have taken of my plush

#friends teddies - Photos including my friends plush

#partners teddies - Photos including my partners plush

#for me - Posts for me by others

#ask - Asks I have been sent

🛑 Do Not Interact

I do not have a DNI list. If I don't want you interacting with me I will just block you! ( This being said, if you do find yourself blocked by me it doesn't mean I think you're bad or anything, not everyone is meant to be friends with each-other. I take curating my spaces for myself very liberally ) In general as long as you are not a mean or judgemental person & don't stand for things that are harmful towards others then we should be good to get along : D If you do not want me interacting with you, you’re free to send me a kind message asking me to stop & I will ☀️ Or you should use the block button as intended ( no need to contact me at all! ). If you feel the need to be rude or cruel about it I ask you to take a step back and ask yourself what exactly it is you’re trying to accomplish. I do not check the source of everything I interact with because that’s just unreasonable : )

[narumi-gens]

Triptych | "It's just yes or no."

Chisaki Kai x f!Reader

summary: Your life is nothing more than a triptych, a work of art in three parts with each panel depicting a distinct period — a beginning, a middle, an end. And in the triptych that is your life, the central figure has always been Chisaki Kai.

chapter warnings: 18+ minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, smut, yandere, rough sex, unprotected sex, choking/breathplay, possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, implied/referenced sexism and misogyny, complicated family dynamics, abandonment issues

notes: if this part flops then I genuinely don't know what I'm going to do with this fic. this is from a nonlinear story so all the parts can be read in any order.

words: 4.6k

SERIES MASTERLIST

minors, blank, and ageless blogs will be blocked. do not interact.

The Middle

Your thoughts are a mess. As you try to parse through them, you find yourself absently toying with the empty sake cup on the low table before you. You tilt the cup to one direction before titling it the other way, the ceramic cool between your fingers. You then give it a spin, letting it go and the sound it makes against the wood rings loudly in the small sitting room. It wobbles wildly before finally coming to a stop and you reach for the open sake bottle to fill the cup once more. 

If there’s anything that you’ve learned from your father, it’s that nothing solves a problem better than a bottle of chilled sake. 

But as you bring the cup to your lips and take a small sip, you know that the answers to your problems won’t be miraculously found at the bottom. Instead, you’ll have to think of them on your own. 

With a weary sigh, you prop your elbow up on the table and rest your cheek against your fist to look out the large windows into the courtyard on the other side. The light from the full moon illuminates the small garden inside of it beautifully and a ghost of a smile appears on your lips. Your father had taken good care of it in the years that you were gone. 

Instead of focusing on your current problems, you decide to turn your attention to the past and try to remember the last time you were in this exact same spot — seated on a cushion at the same low table, with the same tatami mats beneath you, as you enjoyed the same view of the courtyard. 

You remember drinking tea with your father. You remember learning how to play shogi with Kai. You remember looking out the window and trying to ignore the massive walls surrounding the garden. 

And you also remember the day that you left, how you stood inside this room and tried to burn it into your memory. As you wryly take another sip of your sake, you realize that doing so was unnecessary since you’re back home once again. 

You’re brought back to the present when you feel a familiar pair of eyes on you. 

“Join me for a drink?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder at Kai. He wordlessly accepts your invitation, his footsteps light as he moves to sit down next to you. You reach for the sake bottle to pour him some, only to stop when you realize that you only have one cup. “Oh, let me go get another cup.”

“Don’t bother. It’s fine,” he says, stopping you before you can get up and your eyes widen with surprise. 

“Are you sure?” you ask, tilting your head curiously and he nods silently. Deciding not to question him any further, you simply begin to refill the sake cup. From the corner of your eye, you see him remove his beak-like mask and set it gently down on the table. 

As you pass him the cup, you try to identify the warm sensation that’s slowly washing over you — one unrelated to the alcohol that you’ve been drinking. 

“Is this our own sakazuki?” you tease as he drinks from your cup without hesitation. 

There’s just enough light from the full moon for you to see how the corner of his lip twitches upward with amusement at your reference to the sake-sharing initiation ceremony for new members of the yakuza

“Something like that,” he hums as he sets the cup back down and grabs the sake bottle to refill it. 

Then, something happens that’s so rare that it causes the warmth enveloping you to grow and a bright smile to appear on your face. As he returns the now full cup to you with both hands, his tone turns slightly playful. 

“As wakagashira of the Shie Hassaikai, I’m pleased to formalize our bond and welcome you to the family,” he offers and you take the cup back. 

“Thank you, aniki. I’m honored. The Shie Hassaikai have my unending loyalty and allegiance,” you reply before taking a sip, following his lead and pretending that this is your initiation into the Hassaikai. From the way he’s looking at you, you can easily tell that he’s enjoying the charade.

Any hint of playfulness from Kai has always been something to be treasured. And as you savor it, you realize what it is that’s at the root of the warmth that you’re feeling. It’s contentment. 

In the middle of so much chaos — your father’s illness, your rushed trip home, your neverending worries about the future — it makes you happy to be able to share sake and quietly laugh with Kai. 

“This is how it should have been,” he says and you give him a curious look. 

“Hmm?”

“The old man should have formally brought you in when he had the chance,” he explains.

The comment causes your smile to dim, complicated emotions and memories from years ago resurfacing at his words. When he continues to stare at you with those piercing golden eyes, you slide the cup back to him and look past him out toward the garden.

“Maybe,” you shrug, deciding that a noncommittal answer is easiest. You glance back at him and raise a teasing eyebrow. “But if I was wakagashira, then what about you?” 

“I would have made you my right hand,” he replies easily, like he’s already mentally mapped out this alternate future where you joined the Hassaikai instead of running from them.

“I’m flattered,” you grin, impishly tilting your head to the side. “But then what about poor Kurono? Wouldn’t want to put him out of a job.”

He silently takes a sip, finishing what little sake is left in the cup before setting it back down. He then returns to looking at you expectantly and you sigh softly when you no longer sense his earlier playfulness. It’s always short-lived and rare to appear. 

“There’s no point in wondering about the what-ifs, Kai,” you tell him gently, dropping your eyes as you begin to play with the empty cup once again. “You know as well as I do that Dad has never been one to let go of tradition. And for him, a woman’s place in the yakuza has always been nothing more than the silent and obedient wife.”

Any hint of a smile has disappeared from your lips, the corners now turned down in a contemplative frown as you think back on the arguments that you and your father used to have. You then look back up at Kai to find him watching you with hawkish eyes. 

“I had a plan,” he finally says, his voice rough with an odd mixture of anger and determination. “But you left.”

“But I left,” you agree simply, choosing to ignore his suddenly sharp tone. When he remains unrelenting, you refill the sake cup and take a sip before passing it over for him to do the same. “Everyone had plans. You had a plan. Dad had his plan. What about what I wanted? What about my plan?”

“I wanted what was best for you,” he argues, and you tilt your head curiously despite already knowing his answer to your question.

“And what’s best for me?”

“What’s best is for you to be here,” he replies without hesitation and you don’t know if it’s the sake or the nostalgia that’s getting to you, but you can’t hold in a soft laugh. 

With a mischievous grin, you reach out and poke his chest just over his heart. When he looks down at your finger, clearly unsure what you’re doing, you repeat the gesture, poking him a second time. 

He lifts his gaze to meet yours and merely raises an eyebrow. 

“I’m trying to change your settings. It seems like you’re stuck on repeat,” you tease, giving his chest another poke. He looks unamused and it only makes your smile grow wider. Your features then scrunch together unattractively with confusion as you playfully poke him again. “Don’t you play any other songs?”

Suddenly, so quickly that you almost don’t see it, he grabs onto your finger to stop you. But while the unexpected action would scare anyone else, the lack of danger in his demeanor only has you smiling. 

“That’s a real risky thing to do,” he tells you, his tone dry rather than threatening as a hint of playfulness peeks through his actions once more and a strange sense of longing begins to creep up on you. 

“I’ve missed this,” you breathe out wistfully, the words leaving your mouth before you can stop them. Surprise flashes across his face. “I’ve missed how simple things used to be. I wish things could go back to that. When did everything get so complicated?”

Kai stays silent as he looks at you thoughtfully. You refill the sake cup and carefully pass it to him. But instead of taking it from you like he did before, he holds onto your hand and guides it to his lips to drink from the cup. His eyes remain on yours as he does so and your face warms at the intimacy of the gesture.

After he drains the sake, he releases your hand and you set the now-empty cup back on the table.

“The sakazuki isn’t the only ceremony where two people share sake from the same cup,” he points out, breaking the silence and it feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped over your head.

“Kai,” you reply sharply, his name sounding like a clear admonishment. But never one to be deterred, he continues.

“Have you thought about my offer?” he asks and you sigh, your shoulders drooping as the fight drains from you. 

“Don’t call it that,” you grumble. “It makes it sound like a business proposition.”

“Would you prefer me to wax poetic?” he counters with a raised eyebrow and you stare back at him quietly. 

You’re certain that the emotional turmoil that you feel in the pit of your stomach at the topic of discussion is written across your face. As the silence stretches on, Kai seems to realize that a different approach is needed. 

Your apprehension is replaced by surprise when he begins to pull off his gloves before setting them carefully onto the surface of the table. He covers your hand with one of his and the intimacy of the moment isn’t lost on you — no mask and no gloves are the closest Kai ever comes to being vulnerable. And something about it has your anxiety easing. 

“What do you have waiting for you back in Sapporo? What’s keeping you there?” His tone has lost some of its edge and your eyes drop down to the tabletop where he’s holding your hand in his. 

“I have a job. I have a life, one that I built all on my own,” you reply and the pride you normally feel when speaking the words is undercut by how weak your voice sounds. 

“And who are you sharing that life with? Who do you have outside the Hassaikai? Outside of me?”

Your anxiety begins to build once again at his line of questioning. 

You think about the few lasting friends that you’ve made, both at university and at your job. Regardless of how much you like them and how comfortable you feel with them, there will always be a self-imposed distance between you and them. You’re just too scared to let them know too much, afraid of what they’ll do if they learn where you come from. 

You then turn your thoughts to the relationships that you’ve tried to build, desperate to find someone who can cure the loneliness that always creeps in and threatens to smother you when you’re alone at night in bed. Yet every time you think that you might be able to take the next step and put your trust in someone, those relationships inevitably fizzle out.

And then you remember how happy you always are whenever Kai makes his unexpected visits. With him, you never have to worry about your past. He already knows it all. He knows every dark memory, every fear, every wish. 

He knows you. 

You’ve never been lonely with Kai.

“You said you missed simplicity. This is as simple as it gets,” he says, his words cutting through your tangled thoughts with startling clarity. “It’s just yes or no.”

You sharply inhale, your eyes wide as you absorb what he’s telling you. 

You’re suddenly moving faster than your mind can keep up with. With one hand, you grip the fabric of his shirt while the other cups his unmasked cheek as you lean in and desperately press your lips to his. 

He’s quick to respond, welcoming the kiss eagerly. His bare hands are on you in a flash — gripping your hair tightly with his fingers and pulling you as close as you can get with the corner of the table digging sharply into your hip. 

It’s easy to lose yourself to his lips, his tongue, his teeth, all working in perfect harmony to make sure that nothing but him is occupying your senses. He tastes like the sake the two of you have been sharing and you suddenly feel lightheaded, although you aren’t sure whether it’s because of the alcohol, the way he’s kissing you, or a mixture of both. 

You shift to your knees as you lean over the edge of the table to sink even further into him and he drops his hands to your waist, gripping you tightly before pulling you into his lap in one smooth movement. Surprised by the suddenness of the action, you softly gasp against his lips. 

Greedy to taste you further, he turns his attention to your neck, his teeth leaving a trail of stinging bites that lead away from your mouth. You bury your hand in his hair, helplessly tugging the short strands when he bites down on a particularly sensitive spot that he’s intimately familiar with.

You can feel him growing hard beneath you and a whimper escapes you as you suddenly need to be closer. Using every ounce of strength you have, you push him away from your neck just long enough to adjust yourself in his lap to straddle him, yanking the fabric of your kimono up your legs to an indecent height so that you can do so. 

One of Kai’s hands drops down to the newly exposed skin of your thigh, his fingers gripping you so tightly that he’s sure to leave behind bruises that you’ll certainly feel. Maybe it makes you depraved, but the idea excites you. To know that such dangerous hands, hands that put people in hospital beds, that could kill, are holding onto you so intimately has heat pooling in the pit of your stomach.

But it also has you feeling something that you’re unused to feeling — special. Because you know that even if he could use his Quirk on you, you’re the one person on whom he never would. 

Just like he has ever since you were young, Kai will always protect you. 

Your hands move to the shoulders of his black suit jacket and you roughly begin to push it off, his hands leaving your body just long enough to shrug it from his frame and let it drop carelessly behind him. You then lift them to cup his jaw, directing his mouth back to yours as a new type of desperation fuels your kiss. 

You’re only vaguely aware of the way he makes quick work of removing the obi around your waist and the koshihimo underneath it. With nothing left to tie your kimono in place, the thick fabric slackens around your body, making it easy for him to push apart the edges of the garment to reveal the thin, white layer beneath it. 

As he begins to pull at the sash tying your nagajuban together with hasty but assured movements, you can’t help but picture a child eagerly tearing apart the wrapping on a present to find the gift underneath. The mental image is only enhanced by how satisfied he looks when he pulls away from your lips to watch the sash come free.

A small shiver runs down your spine as he slips his hands under the nagajuban at your shoulders. He pushes it and your kimono down so that the fabric pools in the crooks of your elbows, leaving your torso completely bare before him. 

Your nipples pebble instantly from both the room’s cool temperature and the way Kai’s eyes are roving over your form hungrily. You can’t tear your eyes away from his face. To see a man whose emotions only ever seem to vacillate between impassivity and anger looking so pleased has your cheeks warming and your pussy growing wetter.

No longer content to merely look, he hooks an arm around your waist underneath the kimono that’s still hanging from your elbows and pulls you in closer. Your head drops back and your eyelids flutter shut with a soft moan when he returns his lips to your neck, harshly sucking the skin before following it with a soothing lick. 

Using his free hand, he palms your bare breast, squeezing it before using his thumb to tease your nipple. Your back arches as you push your chest further into his touch, a silent plea for more. You get it when he pinches your nipple and gives it a tug that’s just painful enough to force a cry from you. He drags his lips down your neck to your chest, your skin stinging in the wake of the sharp bites he leaves behind before giving your other breast the same treatment. 

Despite how rough he is — how rough he always is — there’s still a reverence underlying every one of his actions and it only has your need for him growing. 

You begin to grind your hips down against him, feeling how thick and hard he is beneath you. Your hands slide down his chest toward his belt buckle, eager to get rid of the few remaining layers of clothing that are still separating you from him. 

It takes you a few tries to unbuckle it with the way your fingers keep fumbling. But once it’s finally undone, your hands make quicker work of the button and zip of his pants before you slip a hand inside and gave him a firm squeeze that has him groaning into your breast. 

Suddenly, you’re flat on your back, wincing at the dull ache from where your head hits the tatami mat with a soft thunk. As Kai looms over you, he takes a moment to savor the sight of you beneath him. The silk layers of your kimono are crumpled underneath you as they still hang around your elbows and only a simple, cotton pair of underwear keeps you from being completely naked before him. 

The desperate look on your face and the way your chest rises and falls with each rapid breath you take stokes the raging fire in him that threatens to burn everything in its wake. Right now, he wants nothing more than to fuck you so hard that you’ll feel it for days — a lingering reminder of him that you’ll be unable to push away. 

The thought spurs him into action and his next movements are so frenzied that it’s hard for you to keep up with them. All you can make out through the haze of your lust for him is the way he tugs your underwear to the side before you feel the head of his thick cock pressing at your entrance.

That’s all the warning you’re given before he’s sliding into you with one rough thrust that has your back arching and a breathless gasp escaping you as you toss your head back. When he bottoms out inside of you, his hips flush against yours, it feels like he’s forced all of the air from your lungs.

He’s so big that it hurts exactly how you want it to, exactly how he knows you like it to. 

With one hand pressing into the tatami by your head, he holds himself up above you as he uses his other to grab firmly onto your thigh and hike your leg up around his waist. His tight grip along with the tension in his body are the only outward signs that he’s feeling just as affected as you are. 

The pace he sets as his hips slam into yours is punishing. He’s putting enough force behind every thrust to have you sliding along the tatami with each one.

Your fingers desperately scramble for something to clutch onto, to keep you grounded. You tightly fist the fabric of his shirt at his side with one hand as the fingers on your other hand cling tightly around the back of his neck, your fingernails digging into his skin just enough to leave slight, crescent-shaped marks.

An overwhelming need to have him even closer overcomes you and you use your hold on his neck to bring his lips back within reach of yours so that you can lean up and kiss him. Although you’re the one to initiate the kiss, Kai takes control of it almost immediately. It feels like he’s trying to claim every soft moan you make before they can fully leave you, like they belong to him. 

Maybe they do. 

Using his grip on your leg, he hitches it even further up his waist and the new angle has you keening into his mouth. But even with the way his cock is relentlessly dragging along your walls, hitting every spot so perfectly that it has shivers of pleasure running down your spine, it still isn’t enough. 

You place your hand on top of his where it’s holding your thigh and begin to guide it away from your leg, up your body, until it’s resting around your throat. You pull away from his lips to look up at him meaningfully. A wild look appears in his eyes at your silent plea.

Your reaction to the familiar pressure around your throat as he begins to squeeze is instant. Your eyelids flutter shut, your toes curl, and your pussy clamps down on his cock so hard that he can’t hold in a deep groan. 

The only person you’ve ever trusted enough to let choke you is Kai. You’ve been with a handful of other men and you’ve never been comfortable enough with any of them to even bring up the subject. This is something special for the two of you to share. 

His pace somehow manages to grow even wilder, spurred on by having his hand wrapped around your throat. He times his thrusts perfectly so that every time his cock roughly spears your walls apart, his grip around your neck grows just a bit tighter and your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

You aren’t going to last much longer. Not with the way his hips are pounding so hard into yours that you know it’ll have you wincing in the morning. Not with the way he’s choking you exactly how you need him to. 

Not with the way you feel so protected by his embrace, caged in by his arms with his body on top of yours and intimately connected together in the house that the two of you grew up in. 

“Kai,” you whimper, although it comes out as more of a wheeze due to the hand cutting off your air supply. His name is dripping with desperation as it leaves your lips, letting him know how close you are. 

Needing just a little more to push you over the edge, you slip your hand down between your bodies where your fingers find your slippery clit and rub it frantically. 

You’re so wrapped up in your own impending orgasm that you miss the crazed look in Kai’s eyes. It only grows more feral when you choke out his name again, underlining that it’s him inside of you, him with his hand on your throat, him that you belong to. 

With another bruising thrust and his hand tightening just a tiny bit more, the tension in your body finally snaps as blinding pleasure crashes over you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and fingers. 

He releases your throat to wrap his arm around your waist and you gasp for air. He adjusts your hips to exactly where he wants them as he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, his own end the only thing in sight. 

You’re just starting to come down from your high, your mind fuzzy with pleasure, when he groans lowly and spills himself inside of you — the only mess that never seems to bother him.

Mindlessly, you wrap your arms around his torso and pull him down so that his body is fully resting on top of yours, his weight a comforting tether keeping you grounded. He seems to be savoring the intimacy as well, burying his face in your neck and you can feel every ragged exhale hot against your skin as he catches his breath. 

You rest your cheek against his as you stare blankly at the ceiling, your still-tingling fingers clutching tightly onto the back of his shirt as you try to make sense of the messy emotions warring within you. 

“You would never hurt me, right?” you ask into his ear, your voice cracking. Your words are spoken so softly that it’s hard to hear them over the way the both of you are panting heavily.

From how he momentarily tenses against you, you can tell the question surprises him. It feels like every broken piece you have beneath the surface, every crack and every insecurity, is on display. You’re grateful that with his face still buried in your neck, he can’t see you with those golden eyes that never miss a thing. 

“I’ll always keep you safe,” he says, his voice so rough and low that it sounds like gravel in your ear. You can’t hear any trace of a lie in his words.

“You won’t leave me alone?” 

And there it is, your greatest fear spoken aloud. Without Kai, there would be no one left who cares for you.

Your father is gravely ill. Your mother is gone. Your sister disappeared years ago. There’s no one waiting for you in Sapporo.

Kai is the only person you have left in your life. 

“Never,” he swears and your hold on him tightens. 

Your vision begins to blur as your eyes trace the wooden lines of the ceiling, his promise affecting you more than you expected. 

Kai will always be there.

Before you know what’s happening, a single word is tumbling past your lips.

“Yes,” you breathe and he tenses again in your embrace.

“Yes, what?”

A single tear escapes from the corner of your eye and rolls down your temple before getting lost in your hair.

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! Here are all the fics I read and enjoyed this month:

And What If I Were You | jacaranda_bloom | [110k] For Louis, will losing his sight give him the clarity to realise what is right in front of him? For Harry, will losing the love of his life give him the strength to finally open his heart? And can they find their way back, before they lose each other forever? A story of love. A story of loss. A story of fighting for each other, no matter the odds.

and i would search the night sky to find you | devilinmybrain (venomedveins) | [56k] Harry Styles is a high class, well-bred Omega attending Bosworth Academy - a prestigious boarding school looking over the small town on Kinsey. He has his whole life already planned for him, learning his place as the potential mate for an important Alpha, practicing his home making skills, and be obedient above all else. When he attends a school trip into town though, he meets Louis Tomlinson - a blacksmith and mouthy Alpha who doesn't particularly care for the standards of high society nor for the people in it. But things are not always what they seem and a past grievance may change the lives of everyone involved forever.

there's no pleasure in this resisting (so go ahead and kiss me) | etherealbliss | [26k] “No, Harry, you don’t get it. Like, I can hear you.” When he notices Harry’s disbelieving expression, Louis takes a shuddering breath before continuing. “I don't know how else to explain it. I can hear every breath you take, every song you sing along to, every sweet thing you mumble when no one is around, every sigh, every gasp, every moan…” Louis rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands. “It’s like my senses are heightened to the max, but only when it comes to you.” Louis stares up at him, eyes imploring, like he’s begging Harry to understand. “I can’t fucking sleep, because all I can think about, all I can focus on… is you.” He looks away, scoffing as he shakes his head, “And I don’t even know you.” or When Louis, a gorgeous alpha, moves into the flat next door, Harry's attention is immediately piqued. However, after a misplaced noise complaint and a series of interactions with the man that inspire a litany of fantasies, Harry soon realizes his attraction goes far deeper than he had initially assumed.

Loved You First | Snowy38 | [100k] Harry has lived his life ruled by anxiety, bullied by overbearing work-mates and ridiculed for his geeky look. When a new boss starts Harry can barely look him in the eye but Louis appears to be on his side. Soon Harry develops feelings for the protective and supportive Louis but Louis tries to fight it at first. There's rumours about Louis at his last work place and his penchant for his secretaries so Harry has a right to feel insecure. Harry slowly lets his curls break free as Louis thaws him and they embark on a new beginning together. Featuring Harry styled as Marcel, Niall as Louis' best friend and Zayn as Harry's gay mentor.

Place In Me | therogueskimo | [42k] Louis really didn’t like therapy, that much was true. He had become notoriously used to keeping his emotions close to his chest, opening up to no one, keeping up the facade of someone who had their life together, and therapy was a special kind of torture. But he would much rather be sitting in therapy right now than in the studio, waiting for Harry Styles to show up. The thing was, he could have said no. Louis could have read that text that reignited the band group chat after years of silence and ignored it. He could have just said he would come and then bailed. He could have told Harry to fuck off and blocked him. But no. He’d fallen into the exact trap that he was sure Harry had set by putting the message in the group chat instead of sending it to them individually. There was no way he could refuse when Niall and Liam had been so enthusiastically on board with the idea. ____________________ One Direction reunites in 2023. Louis and Harry haven’t spoken to each other in years.

Paparazzi | Darling28 | [93k] "Oi, what happened to treat people with kindness?" Louis yells loud enough for Harry to hear from across the street. "That goes for everyone but you!" Harry calls back and while he can only see the back of him, he gives him his middle finger again. ⊷ ❤︎︎ ⊶ Louis is a successful paparazzi that the stars love. He brings out the beautiful in them and treats them kindly. But then he suddenly gets the job of photographing Harry Styles for the next few months. Not only that the two constantly get into fights, but suddenly Louis has to question his true self. Because the star makes him doubt his sexuality.

Baby Steal My Heart Away | Snowy38 | [61k] Louis headed into the hall, seeing the Moses basket right away. "Wah-wah-wahhh!" Was that... Fuck. It was. It was a baby! A loudly crying, clearly unhappy-actually properly distressed baby. It was already red in the face and-- Why was there a baby? He looked up and around, palm flattening to his forehead to push his scruffy hair away from his clammy skin, checking he wasn't being punked.

Hung Up On You | hazzahtomlinson | [12k] Louis received a dick pick from a stranger and normally, he'd be completely furious at something like that-- except, whomever it was, had a super nice dick. If only the person attached to it hadn't turned out to be a complete asshole.

[aydaptic]

I have Gavin/Connor content filtered because the ship just isn’t my thing but I keep clicking on it because I think one day it’ll just “spark interest” but I just can’t see them that way.

Like, I see no chemistry between them whatsoever but with reed900, I’m like “they’re perfect for each other”

Sorry to vent but I remember you saying something before along the lines of that Gavin and Connor aren’t compatible and I feel like it’s so true. I’ll even see g/c content and be like “nines is right there”.

In my mind, Gavin could be friends with Connor but romantically, I don’t believe it would even cross each others mind, like at all.

I feel like someone would bring it up and they both would be like teenagers and be like “eww, what? Him, what are you crazy?”

Maybe I feel like I’m missing something cause people I follow ship them but for the life of me, I just can’t see them finding each other desirable in that way at all.

It’s just such a level of ooc for me that I look at it and think “why would you?”

I have it filtered, too. Can't stand it. Anyone who ships them either has no respect for these characters and/or is delusional (...and anyone offended by me saying that is more than welcome to block me.)

Reed900 works bc Niner is canonically the exact opposite of Con.

As much as ppl like to believe "opposites attract" bc they think they're so "accepting" to tolerate huge differences, that only works in the infatuation stage, and this is something ppl need to learn. Gav and Con are too different. People that are too different can never work out and they won't ever find each other attractive. Relationships like that in real life are not happy ones.

Picture this. You're at a social gathering and a conflict emerges. You want to solve it diplomatically. Your partner wants to throw hands. It's a direct conflict of interest -- happening on the daily bc of how different you are -- and that's what an unhealthy relationship looks like. Arguments are only healthy if they're rare. Common sense.

Them even being friends is doubtful. I've said it before that personality types like Gav can't stand personality types like Con, and no, this isn't a hate/love situation. I speak from experience. Every single person who shares Gav's personality type that I've interacted with (including myself) doesn't like Con, either. There are so many ppl out there saying "X is just like me" when it couldn't be further from the truth.

People ship Gav and Con for a very simple reason: they find either one of/both of them attractive and just want to mash them together whilst throwing logic/common sense out the window. The two ever getting together is OOC af and that won't ever change. It's an objective fact.

[sadaveniren]

A Post on Being Closeted

I’ve had a few anons recently messaging me about their thoughts on when Harry and Louis might come out and that’s fine but something has been kinda churning in my stomach, making me a little off, and I finally figured out why. It’s the way closeting, and their decision to come out or not, is talked about. Things like “I thought they were too proud to stay closeted” or “I just don’t see them as the type who would want to stay closeted” and I just... I really, really need to hammer something home.

Harry and Louis are only closeted publicly.

In their daily lives they live together, and their friends and family, and probably even close colleagues, know about them.

You have to remember that there are different ways to be closeted, and fandom as a whole seems to be taking the very strict “they can’t be themselves, they are living a lie” type of idea. It’s the most common one where they are just constantly pretending to be heterosexual, they don’t tell anyone they’re gay, it’s this big secret no one knows about, and when celebrities talk about it they’re always like “it was such a relief to get it off my chest, for someone to finally know”. But... that’s not the only way to be closeted.

There are a lot of people out there who have come out to their family, their friends, and they live their life ... gayly. That’s not implying going out to a club, or cruising, or even announcing they are gay daily in every conversation, it just means going about your day with this awareness inside you that you are gay. That you are not operating in this world as “the default”. You are, just by existing, being gay. Your queerness is so much a part of you that if you were a character in a book your epithet would be “the gay one”. They are... openly gay.

But because they don’t announce they are gay daily, or even to every person they know, they are still closeted. The easiest example of this are people who are closeted at work. They don’t talk about their spouse. They might even actively choose not to mention it (I’ve done this even, because I worked in fucking fiber optics construction and could tell if I said shit I would be tormented). But they have a family, they live their life as they want. They are “closeted”... but they live their lives VERY differently than someone who has no support.

And I think we should consider that this is the exact same situation. Harry and Louis are choosing not to talk about their spouse, or their personal life... at work. It’s only with us. Strangers.

Just like for a normal person chooses to be closeted at work, so too can a celebrity. And that’s not to diminish the fact that that kind of forced closeting happens. I actually have a pretty good idea of why it can be such a big misconception, that leads to this kind of thinking. It’s because, I think we can all agree, that at one point Harry and Louis were forcibly closeted. They were two cute teenage kids who lived out the first six months of their courtship on reality television. And then immediately got thrust into their dream job - a wild fucking world of fame that they couldn’t even begin to fathom. They teased each other, they reveled in the taunting, and the play acting. Hell they even... sorta enjoyed the lying, thinking they were getting one over on everyone. And then that was quickly taken away from them.

They were forced to stop interacting with each other. They were forced to lie. We have pretty good evidence that Louis had to lie to his sisters, probably to his extended family. His friends. He needed people to believe he was with Eleanor because anyone could leak a story about him, because he was so famous, and his management didn’t give a shit about protecting them yet, so they wouldn’t block stories that came up. Louis and, more than likely, Harry were at one point very close to the strict closet that the GP thinks of when you think of closeting. This was the reality of 2013 to 2015 One Direction.

That is not what it is now. And for a VERY long time in fandom, from 2011 until, hell 2019 or 2020 I want to say, the only other side of the closeted coin was a full reveal. Coming out to EVERYONE. Coming out to the public. And I do think that for a long while, definitely during One Direction, and maybe even through 2016, Harry and Louis wanted to “Come Out” to everyone. They wanted to give that part of themselves to the world. The Vogue photoshoot. The big interview. I think it was a very idolized time.

But that’s not reality anymore. They’ve changed. Society has changed. Parasocial relationships are a named thing now. The question of celebrity culture, and the right to musicians personal lives are coming up more and more. They are out to their family and friends. It’s very obvious Harry’s team knows he’s gay, same as Louis. And their families. People they work with, who know them, might pick up on things, might even see them with each other, but they aren’t being told outright.

Idk it’s just... when I think about people being entitled to someone’s closet, or assuming that being closeted speaks negatively about the person who is choosing to stay closeted, I think about the fact they are expecting someone to come out to STRANGERS. Do you know how terrifying that is?

Their families know. Their loved ones know. They own houses together. They vacation in Italy and Jamaica. They have a joint bank account, and one specifically for art. They probably smoke weed and make out with each other at social gatherings with their teams because they’re grossly exhibitionists, like... they are living the life.

Why isn’t that enough? Why do we - strangers - have to be invited?

Again, I fully admit that at one point in time Harry and Louis were closeted when they didn’t want to be, and told they couldn’t come out by people who had authority over them, and it was baked into “image clause” language in their contracts. Because they now both are “independent” (Harry has a distribution deal, and Louis is with BMG) there is a chance the “image clause” is no longer a thing that is stopping either of them from coming out. If that is the case they still could choose not to come out, and that would not change anything about who they are as people. It wouldn’t make them scared, or less, or anything but two gay people living gayly who don’t want to be out in at work.

TL;DR celebrities are humans who don’t have to tell the general public they are gay because the general public are strangers

[callsignspark]

soft-tober | 11 | Billy Avalone

soft-tober is about experiencing the joys of October with loved ones. each day is a fall-related one-shot for one of the couples from my Dagger, Sword & Shield universe, plus a few extras! today is Billy and Aaron with “I don’t like scary movies.” “I’ll keep you safe.” from this prompt list.

If you’d like to be tagged for soft-tober, please send an ask!

word count: 1.6k

soft-tober masterlist | main masterlist | divider credit here

warnings: implied homophobia but nothing is actually said, this takes place in a vague time during the late-2000s before DADT was repealed bc I haven’t nailed down their exact timeline yet, some miscommunication but it gets resolved

callsignspark disclaimer: my blog is an 18+ space; minors do not interact - you will be blocked. I do not consent to my work being copied, run through an AI generator, translated, or posted elsewhere. I do have an AO3, where I eventually will be cross-posting my works.

11. “I don’t like scary movies.” “I’ll keep you safe.”

“Oh, for the love of god!” Aaron slams his hands on the table, wincing even as he does it for fear of the librarian kicking them out. Again. “You have got to stop.”

“Stop what?” Billy feels dumb asking, but he’s actually not sure what’s annoying his best friend.

“The fidgeting, Billy! Tapping the pen and bouncing your knee, you’re shaking the entire table!”

“M’sorry.” His voice is tiny, scolding himself for not being able to do anything right lately.

“I know,” Aaron sighs, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I just really need to finish this paper, so I need quiet right now.”

“I’ll go.”

“You don’t- I don’t want you to go, Billy. I just need quiet for the next hour.”

Billy sucks his lip into his mouth, he’s been jittery all week, and today has been worse than any other day, unable to sit still. Things have been tense between them since last weekend, and he doesn’t want to make Aaron even more mad.

“I don’t think I can.” He quietly admits, ears burning.

His best friend glances up from the textbook he’s furiously flipping through, taking in the bashful expression of the man across from him. Aaron opens his mouth, but Billy’s stomach growls, interrupting him.

“Have you eaten dinner? Why don’t you go grab some food?” Aaron suggests when Billy shakes his head. “Leave your stuff here, and by the time you come back, I should almost be done.”

“Do you want me to grab you something?”

His heart skips a beat when Aaron gives him a small smile. “Nah, that’s alright; thanks, B.”

Billy returns the smile, tidying his side of the table and pushing his chair in before heading to the student center. Should have grabbed a sweatshirt, he thinks as he steps out into the chilly Thursday evening. The setting sun stealing the warmth out of the air, making him shiver.

During his walk to the student center, he contemplates the same thing he has been doing all week, trying to brainstorm how to fix things with Aaron. He hates how stiff things got after he apologized.

The two of them had been hiding outside the house, drinks in hand, as they took a breather from the lacrosse team’s annual Halloween bash. Neither of them had put a lot of effort into their costumes. Billy just wrapped some white tape around a pair of broken sunglasses to be a nerd, and Aaron was Michael Phelps, plastic gold medals around his neck to complete the look.

He looks so hot.

That thought had been the start of Billy’s downfall. After that, all he could do was stare and admire his best friend’s body - his male best friend - as his brain got fuzzier from the alcohol. Then Aaron caught him staring. Normally, he would make a joke, and they’d laugh, move on. But that night, he had just stared back, taking a sip from his red solo cup as brown eyes roamed his body.

A splash of beer dripped down his bare chest as he lowered the cup, soaking into the waistband of his swim trunks. Billy watched the liquid trail down his roommate's solid chest and strong abs of his roommate, only stopping once it was absorbed. When their eyes met again, Billy made the first move.

Lukewarm beer splashed their legs as they collided, and Aaron pushed Billy against the rough siding of the men’s lacrosse house, using his two-inch height advantage. Then they were kissing, tongues intertwining, and hands roaming, unable to get enough.

I’m kissing Aaron. I’m kissing my best friend. God, he’s so warm.

It had been a great kiss, the best kiss of Billy’s life until it got interrupted by his teammate.

“Fritz! Yo! Where are you, dude?” Tansey yells, causing Aaron to pull back enough to breathe. “We need you for pong, man!”

“You should g-”

“We shouldn’t have done that! I’m sorry!”

Aaron freezes, his face shuttering closed like it does whenever his feelings are hurt. A face Billy has never been the cause of in their nine years of friendship.

“What.”

It’s not even a question. There’s no emotion behind it.

“No, not like that!” Billy tries to explain, but his tongue is tied, the alcohol making it hard to think.

“You should go; sounds like they need you.”

Aaron had walked away, rounding the corner and leaving Billy panting against the house, their cups littered by his feet. That’s where Tansey had found him and forced him into a beer pong tournament. He had woken up the next day on the couch, Aaron sitting in the armchair across from him.

He had been kind enough to wait for Billy to finish throwing up before yelling at him. Reminding his best friend how hard it is to be gay and that Billy was the one to make the first move so he doesn’t get to make him feel bad for kissing back.

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad.”

“And the best way to do that was by telling me we shouldn’t have done that?”

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Then how did you mean it?” Aaron is across their living room, and Fritz wishes he was closer; all the thinking is making his headache worse. “Billy, I need to know what you meant. I need to know if I need to move out.”

“What? You can’t move out!”

“If this isn’t a safe space for me, yes, I do.”

“You’re safe with me! You know that!”

“Am I?”

“Of course! Oh my god, Aaron.” Billy stands up, walking to his best friend. “You’re always safe with me; I’ll keep you safe.”

The twenty-one-year-olds stare at each other, emotions swirling around them. They have been friends since middle school and have dealt with bullies and Aaron’s family ridiculing him for his suspected sexuality. Billy has stood strong next to him the entire time. It had never mattered to Billy who Aaron had a crush on, just that he was happy.

Aaron blinks, his green eyes watery. “Billy, I need to know what you meant.”

He’s been trying to figure out how to answer this question for the last twelve hours; he knew this moment was coming.

“I meant that we shouldn’t have been drunk.”

“You wanted to kiss me?”

“I moved first.”

Aaron absorbs that information, nodding in realization that Billy had been the one to initiate the kiss. “What does that mean for us?”

And this is the moment he hoped wasn’t coming.

“You’re my best friend-”

“If you don’t want anything, just say so.” Aaron harshly cuts him off.

“That was the first time I’ve ever even thought about kissing a guy, Aaron! I don’t know what I want! All I know is I don’t want to lose you. You’re my best friend, and we’re about to graduate. We’re not going to see each other for months, and who knows how much we’ll be able to talk.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they don’t have cell service in Rhode Island.”

“Aaron, c’mon, you know that’s not what I meant. I’ll be going through officer school, then flight school, and you’re gonna be in California, in law school. Those are things that don’t leave a lot of free time. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I want right now. But I couldn’t take it if we weren’t friends.”

Aaron had agreed, not wanting to lose the friendship, but told Billy that he needed space. He had agreed, thinking it would be a few quiet days around the apartment. But now it had been a whole week, and they were still being awkward around each other.

Billy is drowning his sorrows in chicken nuggets when he overhears some freshman girls talking about the horror movie double feature the theatre in town is hosting. It gives him an idea.

“We should have our own marathon!” He tries to convince Aaron on the walk home, hoping that quality time will smooth out the roughness of the past week.

“I don’t like scary movies.”

“I know, but I’ll keep you safe.”

The words leave his mouth in a softer tone than he meant, changing the air around them and stopping them on the sidewalk just outside their apartment building.

“Yeah?”

“Always, Aaron.”

“Okay.”

“Also.” Billy takes a deep breath, aware that he’s about to change things and make them much harder. “I’ve been thinking about it. We should go out tomorrow night.”

“What?”

“I want to take you on a date. You’re my best friend, and I’m pretty sure we’ve been in love for years now.”

“You’re not gay.”

“I don’t think so? I’m still attracted to women. But I want you, Aaron.”

“William.” Aaron breathes his name, the one that’s never used. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he ushers them inside and up to their apartment, not speaking again until the door is locked behind them. “You’re going to be in the Navy. You’ll get kicked out if they catch you!”

“I know. We’ll have to be careful, but not having you at all would be so much worse than having to be quiet about us. And they’re going to repeal DADT someday, and then we won’t have to hide!”

“Billy, I don’t think you’re thinking about this fully.”

“Aaron, all I’ve done this week is think about how to apologize to you and if you’d want to go with me to Sophie’s for dinner tomorrow.”

Aaron blinks at him, wide green eyes the only thing betraying how flustered he feels. “You’re taking me to a pizza place for our first date?”

Billy’s heart feels like it’s going to burst. This time, he’s the one to push Aaron against a wall, trying to pour all his feelings into their second kiss.

“We can go wherever you want to go for dinner.” He pants, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt when Aaron squeezes his waist. “Just as long as you say yes.”

“Pizza is fine, Billy.”

“You’re saying yes?”

“Yes, now c’mere.”

@gretagerwigsmuse | @hangmanapologist | @hangmanbrainrot | @princessphilly | @hangmanssunnies | @thesewordsareallihavetogive | @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby | @katieshook02 | @hellojameshowyadoin | @aristotles-butthole | @atarmychick007 | @whatislovevavy | @kmc1989 | @sometimesanalice | @laracrofted | @yuckosworld | @mika-darling | @bradshawsbaddie | @bobblebobsbae | @ohtobeleah | @withahappyrefrain

[handfulofmuses]

Skunk shenanigans 3.0 aka the rest of everything they have to offer so far:

Question: Rough and Tumble vs (80's cartoon) Bebop and Rocksteady. Discuss.

Flynn: It would be a comedy of errors, it would be delightful. Each one of them trying to upstage the other, forgetting why they are fighting to begin with and kind of get distracted by that fact and what were they even setting out to do to begin with? They don’t even remember. They tore up a city block and it’s like …. why? Anything that could go wrong will go wrong and it would be delightful.

–

Question: So, Rough and Tumble have already met Zavok and I think their interactions were pretty interesting. So, what would the skunk bros reaction be to the rest of the D6? Can they keep with the Zeti?

Flynn: It’s more like can the zeti keep up with them.

Kyle, laughing: They just get exhausted by their constant obnoxiousness.

Flynn: Oh yeah. Like, Zik would have no patience for their idiocy. They’d be picking on Zor way too much, they would be raiding the kitchen and pissing off Zomom. They would be picking fights with Zazz all the time which would make HIM happy. And then Zeena, they would be kinda into her and then fight over her and she wouldn’t want either of them and they would hate her and they get distracted by something else and go off somewhere.

Flynn: And Zavok would wonder why he would bring them along, did he bring them along? Did they just follow him, he cannot remember.

Kyle, laughing: Well …. knowing them, they probably just followed him.

Flynn: That should be like a one off or something. Rough and Tumble come to Lost Hex and just inadvertently accidentally stopped the next invasion by the deadly six.

Kyle: -LAUGHTER-

Flynn: Just by being such nuisances.

–

Question:

I came again, sorry to be humble but I thought of another question for Rough and Tumble. How memey or trendy are they?

Flynn: They are the type of guys who once they catch onto the meme it is already a little stale. And they ride it until it’s well past its expiration date.

Kyle: Oh. So me and you. -laughing-

Flynn: Mhm. MHMHM. MHMHM.

Kyle: Ah no we were at the forefront of big oof man -laughing-

Flynn: oh god

—-

Question: Quick! The IDW Sonic cast are playing a match of Team Fortress 2 in 2Fort on their PCs! Tangle, Whisper and Jewel on team blue, the bash brothers Rough and Tumble, Starline, Kit and Surge in team red. Think they'll do the objective and work together as proper classes, or will they muck up and have everything end in "Failure!"

Flynn: It’s gonna be a mess, that’s for sure. I mean, Tangle’s gonna go-

Kyle: Why are there so many people on team red compared to team blue I mean I guess Rough and Tumble only count as one because they only have one brain cell to share between the two of them and I guess Kit and Surge are a package deal it’s kinda required okay fine nevermind i found it out

Flynn: You got Tangle playing scout and Jewel playing medic but she can barely keep up with Tangle as she is flipping around the map. That’s the worst possible thing you can do expect Whisper’s sniper and nobody can get across the bridge or into the base

Kyle: -Laughing-

Flynn: Surge and Kit have the exact same thing she is playing scout he is playing medic so they just keep bouncing into Tangle and Jewel and not getting anywhere or doing anything productive

Flynn: Rough and Tumble are constantly swapping between Demoman and soldier, arguing over which one is better and blowing each other up, launching each other off of the map

Flynn: And Starline built his base and he refuses to move. If he moves somebody might blow it up he has to be there to maintain it. No one can get to the intelligence he’s FINE you go do your job he’s doing his.

Kyle: -LAUGHTER- He is just sitting there strumming that acoustic guitar. This is like the most terrible game of Team Fortress 2.

Flynn: It works by saying it’s a highlander match where there is only one of each class. So Rough and Tumble are arguing over who plays heavy and they never actually get into the match.

Kyle: Wait are they arguing over who plays heavy or soldier or demo man? Or all three?

Flynn: It kinda goes in the circle.

Kyle: Right.

Flynn: “FINE YOU CAN PLAY HEAVY I’M GONNA MOVE OVER TO SOLDIER” “wait why are you on this side” “because he can shoot and he can rocket jump well” “well then I WANT to be him” “YOU WERE GOING TO BE HEAVY” “I DONT WANNA BE HEAVY NO MORE” and so on and so forth

—

Question: Rough and Tumble find Erazor Djinn’s lamp and he has to grant them three wishes. What do they wish for?

Flynn: -laughing-

Kyle: -laughs along-

Kyle: They just argue over who gets the wishes, don’t they?

Flynn: Rough wishes for unlimited wishes. Tumble wishes for more wishes than Rough had and they fight over it and at some point they managed to rub the lamp all screaming “WELL I WISH NOBODY GOT NO WISHES”

Kyle: Mhm. And they wouldn’t get any wishes ultimately is what you are saying.

Flynn: Yeah.

Kyle: Good. -laughs-

—

Question: What would happen if Rough and Tumble went into the haunted house from Night of the Werehog? The one with the ghost girl and two ghost photographers.

Flynn: -amused laughter-

Flynn: There would be a great deal of screaming and running into things Because the ghost girl cracks up at people being terrified. And the two other ghosts who just live to serve love to frighten people take photographs. Rough and Tumble would spend the entire night running from these ghosts, running into walls, getting turned around, not escaping, flash bulb in the face repeatedly and it’s a good thing Law is already a ghost otherwise she would laugh herself to death.

—

Question: what would Rough and Tumble do on Valentine’s Day? I assume they would look for pretty girls, flirt with them in a rude, obnoxious way, get rejected over and over, and blame it on bad luck and say “Whatever. Their loss.”. What do you think?

Flynn: I think you are right for the money expect for the “whatever” part. Because after they spend most of the day getting rejected, they ruin it for everyone else. Outdoor cafes? Stink bomber.

Flynn: Any kind of delivery van full of flowers? It’s getting upended.

Flynn: Romantic walks in the park? No sorry you are getting thrown off the bridge and into the river.

Kyle: Sounds good to me. Just absolute insanity. Just complete conquest from them over anybody else.

Flynn: Well, you broke their hearts. They really did crumble. So your day is gonna be ruined by Rough and Tumble.

Kyle:-laughing- Oh NOOO! OH NOOO! Now I kinda feel bad for them.

—

Question: Did Rough and Tumble ever steal a rhyming dictionary as mentioned in the beginning of the Zombot arc? I need to know if mine is in danger of being stolen from them.

Flynn: -laughs-

Kyle: It’s a big problem.

Flynn: I feel like there was actually a line about them having one but unfortunately it got cut for some reason, I can’t remember the details as to why.

Flynn: But yes, they absolutely have a rhyming dictionary. They have a thesaurus and it usually gets destroyed in an argument how to complete their signature rhyme and they have to steal another one. So yes yours is absolutely in danger. Be on the lookout for very angry skunks, looking for literature.

—-

Question: Rough and Tumble are cool and funny, how do you think they would react to their fanbase?

Flynn: First they would be surprised that they have a fanbase. That people pay attention to them in a positive way at all. And they wouldn*t necessarily know how to handle that. At first. And then they would just revel in it. Entirely too much. They like, coast on that to all the unhealthy degrees try to grift their fanbase. Like, they - is cafe press still a thing? They be turning out their own merch left and right and selfies just plastered on clocks and socks and whatnot

Kyle: And live streaming Q & A on instragram.

Flynn: Oh yeah, yeah, yeah.

—-

Question: I know Rough and Tumble are a duo, but who would you throw on their team to make it a trio even if it was only temporary, and what would their team name be? There’s something so fascinating about sticking to a hard number, in this case 3, and matching who fits which type and what the team name is.

Flynn: That is the hard thing. Their entire gimmick is that they are a duo so anyone who comes in would be a third wheel. And it’s just the question of who would be the funniest third wheel to have at any given time. And who fits into their rhyming scheme the easiest. I will admit, in bad guys, I cracked myself up with them trying to create rhyme that included the entire team and everyone is just kind of rolling their eyes “why are we even with these people in that car” Rough was “THIS WAS INSPIRED COME ON” they are trying so hard to be team players and good boys

Kyle: They’re not bad. They just like to cause destruction and mayhem.

–

Question: I know Rough and Tumble are afraid of curses and Mummies, but do they have a huge fear of other paranormal activities like ghosts, monsters and other strange Inexplicable things?

Flynn: Of course not. They are MANLY men they ain’t scared of nothing they don’t fear no ghost or mummies and - what was that? What was that sound why is that door - that door was not open before ITS THE THING AT THE CLOSET RUN.

Flynn: Yeah, they are absolutely Scooby Doo and Shaggy level of jumpy at the paranormal.

Flynn: Now which one of them says zoinks I leave up to you.

—-

Question: When they get the ball, they won't fumble! It's Football time, with Rough and Tumble! Rough and Tumble learn how much money the average United Federation Football player makes and decide to make their own team. First, they have to kidnap-… I mean, DRAFT team members! As many or as few as you'd like, as they probably wouldn't know how many members make up an official team anyway. And thus, The Seaside City Skunks are born and make it into the league (somehow)! How does it go? Who do they try to draft? Do they make it to the Superbowl (legality be darned)? Does Seaside City file a lawsuit for using their name without permission? WHO IS THEIR MASCOT??

Flynn: Yeah so Seaside City actually has a team. It’s just they are like bottom tier. super lame, they have the bare minimum number of players to constitute a team but all of them kinda phone it in cause they know that they are just there to fill out the season so Rough and Tumble take it over no problem.

Flynn: But they realize real quick that they ARE the team at this point so they decide recruit more and they are sitting there thinking: Who can we get thats like fast and and strong and enjoys hurting people?

Flynn: “was that one…there was that one guy we worked with…” “YEAH TOTALLY”

Flynn: So they go to the Lost Hex

Kyle: -DYING OF LAUGHTER-

Flynn: They recruit the deadly six.

Kyle: I MEAN - YOU KNOW WHAT -KEEPS LAUGHING-

Flynn: And initially they are like -KYLE KEEPS LAUGHING IN THE BACKGROUND-

Flynn: “What’s wrong with you guys”

Kyle: IT’S A BAD IDEA BUT IT’S ALSO A GREAT IDEA. -LAUGHS-

Flynn: And Zavok is like: this is stupid enough to actually have my interest. Let’s see this through. And sure enough they work well enough together just to defeat the enemy and they steamroll everyone else in the league.

Kyle: -laughing- Yeah. So it’s Space Jam.

Kyle: -can’t stop laughing- Do they hire anybody else? Or is it just those eight?

Flynn: Those eight? That’s all you really need.

—

Question: Rough and Tumble meet Team Rocket. What happens, and how peeved do each team get that those other guys have clearly stolen their motto gimmick?

Flynn: -laughs-

Flynn: There was this episode where Jessie and James go into a motto off with their rivals, basically shouting at each other trying to overrule the other. I imagine something like that with Rough and Tumble.

Flynn: But ultimately, they would lose out because they don’t have a Meowth. Like, that’s just the cherry on top.

Flynn: And they are just “we don’t have a hyp man to end our little spiel wow these guys are good”

Flynn: Meanwhile Jessie and James are having a team huddle going. “They can actually change their slogan on the fly? We have to stick to a script! They are so versatile we really need to think varying things!”

Flynn: And that’s how Rough and Tumble joins Team Rocket.

—-

Question: - Seeking employment, Rough & Tumble are hired by none other than DuckTales 2017's Flintheart Glomgold! Their mission? Just help him bust up Scrooge's mansion and take all his stuff! How do they lose to the McDuck Family, and how long before R&T get fed up with Glomgold's heart of flint?

Flynn: -laughs-

Kyle: -laughs-

Flynn, laughing: What an episode.

Kyle: Yeah.

Flynn: I mean first sure, they would be on board. All they have to do is bust up some rich guys place and take whatever they want, easy peasy.

Flynn: Huey has some kind of junior woodchuck guide book way of laying traps through the manor to catch one of them.

Flynn: Louie just cons the other. He’s like “hey you taking our stuff?” “Yeah what are ya gonna do about it?” “oh nothing you can take the cheap stuff” looking at this solid gold “this is cheap???” “yeah you want the real stuff? come with me” and is leading him through the manor through trap after trap “keep coming the real stuff is down this way” leads him to the back exist “well here you thanks for the tour” “WAIT A MINUTE” and you know the third or fourth time they manage to get expelled from the manor, Glomgold is completely done with their antics “IM NOT EVEN GONNA INCLUDE MY NAME IN YOUR INTRO ANYMORE”

Kyle: -DYING OF LAUGHTER-

Flynn: They are crawling back into the manor out of spite and Scrooge is like “what do you even want in here look I give you each five dollars just to make Glomgold’s day worse”

Flynn: Webby kicks them out at some point.

Flynn: Dewey got his own subplot and is oblivious to the entire ordeal.

…

Question: Tail swap! Tumble gets Tangle's tail while Tangle gets Tumble's… lack of a tail. How do they handle this?

Flynn: Tangle is perfectly fine, what are you talking about? She does not need a tail for balance - whoops. No, she meant to trip. Oh, she is dizzy. She will be fine, she can get used to this. One less thing to worry about no more brushing she will be fine JEWEL HELP

Flynn: Meanwhile, Tumble is having the time of his life. (Singing voice) “Floof, glorious floof! Tail goes on for miles now~ Here jump roof to roof!” he is doing cartwheels, gymnastic dance displays, he has not moved from a 5 radius he is just revving in it.

Kyle: Wraps it around himself like a scarf. Then accidentally chokes himself.

Flynn: And when they come to take it back he remembers oh wait, it can punch too. And he becomes one of the most formidable multi-med fighter you have ever seen.

--

Question: How would they react if someone asks for a picture and an autograph?

Flynn: They demand you pay them. After you do, they sign the autograph, mug you, and steal the autograph!

Kyle: I was thinkin' they would just end up just arguing with each other over who has the better signature, or something like that, y'know? Kyle: And they just get into a fight, and, y'know, would end up… your picture would be destroyed. You'd have no autograph, but they would still abscond with your money, because of course they would!