#they look bad and half of them are over cooked

[plaguedocboi]

Angel food cake is the jellyfish of cakes ok

Delicate

Beautiful

90% nothing

VERY easy to fuck up

[localgardenweed]

Im on a romance anime addiction rn and like just finished one and OMFG IM GONNA CRY THEY WERE SO FUCKING IN LOVE BRO THEY WERE IN LOVVVEEEE

I can’t fucking believe i almost stayed up all night on a work night to watch Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?! A solid 8/10, some parts kinda wanna make me kill myself and some characters got on my nerves, at one point completely dropped till the end, but i felt the pacing was good and didn’t feel super rushed till kinda the end like we could have used another episode or two

Still looking for good wlw anime cause I ALMOST ACCIDENTALLY SUGGESTED WATCHING CITRUS BUT WHEN I READ A SYNOPSIS I LEGIT SCREAMED LIKE NOOOOOO NOOOOOOOO NOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I just want girls who are in love bro and if its doomed so be it man

[nomairuins]

also my dads become a spam head 👍👍

[mcmansionhell]

namesake mcmansion

Howdy folks! Today's McMansion is very special because a) we're returning to Maryland after a long time and b) because the street this McMansion is on is the same as my name. (It was not named after me.) Hence, it is my personal McMansion, which I guess is somewhat like when people used to by the name rights to stars even though it was pretty much a scam. (Shout out btw to my patron Andros who submitted this house to be roasted live on the McMansion Hell Patreon Livestream)

As far as namesake McMansions go, this one is pretty good in the sense that it is high up there on the ol' McMansion scale. Built in 2011, this psuedo-Georgian bad boy boasts 6 bedrooms and 9.5 baths, all totaling around 12,000 square feet. It'll run you 2.5 million which, safe to say, is exponentially larger than its namesake's net worth.

Now, 2011 was an anonymous year for home design, lingering in the dead period between the 2008 black hole and 2013 when the market started to actually, finally, steadily recover. As a result a lot of houses from this time basically look like 2000s McMansions but slightly less outrageous in order to quell recession-era shame.

I'm going to be so serious here and say that the crown molding in this room is a crime against architecture, a crime against what humankind is able to accomplish with mass produced millwork, and also a general affront to common sense. I hate it so much that the more I look at it the more angry I become and that's really not healthy for me so, moving on.

Actually, aside from the fake 2010s distressed polyester rug the rest of this room is literally, basically Windows 98 themed.

I feel like the era of massive, hefty sets of coordinated furniture are over. However, we're the one's actually missing out by not wanting this stuff because we will never see furniture made with real wood instead of various shades of MDF or particleboard ever again.

This is a top 10 on the scale of "least logical kitchen I've ever seen." It's as though the designers engineered this kitchen so that whoever's cooking has to take the most steps humanly possible.

Do you ever see a window configuration so obviously made up by window companies in the 1980s that you almost have to hand it to them? You're literally letting all that warmth from the fire just disappear. But whatever I guess it's fine since we basically just LARP fire now.

Feminism win because women's spaces are prioritized in a shared area or feminism loss because this is basically the bathroom vanity version of women be shopping? (It's the latter.)

I couldn't get to all of this house because there were literally over a hundred photos in the listing but there are so many spaces in here that are basically just half-empty voids, and if not that then actually, literally unfinished. It's giving recession. Anyway, now for the best part:

Not only is this the NBA Backrooms but it's also just a nonsensical basketball court. Tile floors? No lines? Just free balling in the void?

Oh, well I bet the rear exterior is totally normal.

Not to be all sincere about it but much like yours truly who has waited until the literal last second to post this McMansion, this house really is the epitome of hubris all around. Except the house's hubris is specific to this moment in time, a time when gas was like $2/gallon. It's climate hubris. It's a testimony to just how much energy the top 1% of income earners make compared to the rest of us. I have a single window unit. This house has four air conditioning condensers. That's before we get to the monoculture, pesticide-dependent lawn or the three car garage or the asphalt driveway or the roof that'll cost almost as much as the house to replace. We really did think it would all be endless. Oops.

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!

[cockaiine]

You used to think that satoru would be detached and annoying in a relationship.

Well, he is annoying, at least you got that much right. A pest, at that.

“Babyyyy…” his whine is long. You really don’t know what’s with him today, he’s so… absurd. He’s always preposterous but today? It’s bad. And it doesn’t help that you had little to no sleep the night before either. “Come onnnnn”

You chuckle softly, unclasping his hands from around you so you can move. He really couldn’t bring this up any other time, it had to be while you’re cooking.

Well, to be fair to him, he’s been bringing it up all last wek.

 “Are you crazy? ‘Toru, we barely just got engaged and–”

“And I don't care,” he rolls his eyes with another huf, lips set in a pout. You think that if he kept that face he’d get wrinkles. And you’re not exactly opposed to the idea; Satoru growing older doesn’t sound too bad at all. “Did you see them? They were so cute!”

“Babe… that was a brand’s advertisement… not a baby advertisement..” you cock your head as you speak; thinking that hopefully, he’s not serious. There’s truly no telling when it comes to your snow-haired lover. “They weren’t trying to convince us to get a baby.”

Cerulean eyes look away, finding reason in your words… much to his dismay.

“But that doesn’t make it any less convincing–!” At this point, you’ve given up on getting any sense in him. 

You don’t respond, simply turning back to the counter, chopping vegetables for dinner. Your wrist moves at professional speed, always stopping right before it slices your finger too.

But in a sudden movement, your wrist slips and you nearly hurt yourself with the sharp knife at the feeling of arms caging your frame. “Satoru–!” your brows knit in the space between, trying to ignore the feeling of giddiness clouding you when his fingers ghost over your stomach.

“I want a baby,” he hums again, pressing his face in the crook of your neck. Your heart throbs, feeling the moist warmth of his breathing. He doesn’t kiss you yet, deliberately agitating you, leaving you hanging on the thread of anticipation of contact that never happens.

“We have to think it through,” you mumble coherently, wiping your hand off on the apron. “We’re not even married yet.”

“You know that’s not a problem for me,” Satoru argues, bringing you closer to him, deeper into his warmth. He will be the end of you. “We have time, it’s not like you’d get pregnant on the spot..”

“But..” You sigh. You want it, you really do. But you’re not certain it’s an appropriate idea… It’s a good thing Satoru is the one insisting, a telltale sign of his desire to build a family with you. To grow together, that’s what he always says. “Are you sure?”

“Have some faith in me,” it’s a plead, interrupted by a comforting kiss under your ear. “I know we can do it. We can only be so ready.”

Your teeth chew on the inside of your cheek, thinking your options through.

“Okay,” you breathe, barely audible. 

“What??” He gasps like a little girl, face glowing with glee. “Are you serious? Please say you are. You’re not messing around with me, are you?”

“No, I’m n–WOAAH!”

He hoists you over his shoulder, landing a soft slap against your ass. “Finally I can put a baby in you.”

“Satoru!” You half-gasp, chuckling at his words. “I can walk”

“Ohhh yeah… that’ not lasting for long baby.”

[katszumi]

“have you seen the abs on that man?” hagakure sat across of you. “sexy on a stick, i swear!” she giggles. she was going on and on about the guy that starred in the superman movie you girls put on last night. henry cavill was his name.

mina agrees with her statement with a nod. “he’s the hottest white man i’ve ever seen before.”

“sure, he was hot, but are we forgetting the misogynist comments he’s made? sexy is one thing, but being controversial is a whole ‘nother thing.” uraraka inserted her input.

“oh, please. i’d cook and clean for him anyday he asks.” mina retorted. both uraraka and yaoyorozu shake their head in shame.

“speaking of controversial.” uraraka murmurs under her breath, you peer over your shoulder, wondering the intent of her statement.

you notice bakugou making his way over to your desk, his eyes planted on you and you only. you shift uncomfortably. why the hell would he be coming to you? did you do something?

once he makes his way to your desk, you look up at him with a half smile.

“hey, bakugou. what’s up?”

his eyes analyze the other girls before looking back down on you.

“my pencil?”

you flutter your lashes at him. “pencil..?” you repeated in a trance of confusion.

he groans. “the fuckin’ pencil i gave you last week. i need it back.”

now it all clicks. you nod, laughing nervously because of your stupidity. you reach in your backpack and grab the black mechanical pencil that you forgot to lend back to bakugou.

your arm extends to the male in front of you, waiting for him to snatch it back.

“sorry.”

he gently grasped onto the pencil, his hand brushing against your fingers for a small moment.

“it’s whatever. just rather not be the one to find you after i lent you something.” he shoved the pencil in his pants pockets, leaving his hands in there. “that’s one of the last pencils i have.”

you shoot your eyebrows up in defense, quickly lowering them after. your eyes falling down to your desk for comfort.

“well, hope you take care of that one.” it was a half-joke. a lame one, might you add. you were just unsure on what to say. especially since it seemed like bakugou was lingering around your desk. as if he didn’t want to return to his seat just yet.

“so, what’d you score on your test?”

“ah…it wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t horrible.”

“well?” was he really desperate to know that bad? you knew bakugou was smart, so he probably only wanted to know so it could boost his ego.

you rubbed your arm out of shame. “a seventy-nine.” you stared at his face to recognize any humility or laughter, but there was none.

he shrugged. “should’ve asked for my help if you needed it.”

right. you almost forgot that bakugou offered to help you study and go over notes with him for the next test. it was such an out-of-bakugou thing to do that you nearly didn’t take him serious.

you nodded slowly, processing his information.

“i was planning on making it up, so maybe for that.”

“fine.” his short one-worded response was dull. but what else did you really expect? “next time, don’t steal my pencil.” was his last comment before leaving your presence.

you sat in your thoughts, reeling the conversation back in your mind. what the hell just happened? it was the most simple yet confusing conversation you’ve ever had. was bakugou joking with you or was he seriously irritated with the pencil situation?

regardless, you made a mental note that bakugou was very protective over his mechanical pencils.

once bakugou returned to his seat, he unzipped his backpack, secretly opening his pencil box. within the box were a collection of pencils. there were so many pencils that he could give one to all of class 1a and 1b and still have few left.

aside sat denki who was clearly peeking inside of bakugou’s bag.

“damn, bakubro. you saving up pencils for a potential pencil outage or something?” it’s denki. of course, he never used his inside voice.

“i will literally blow you out this fuckin’ window and across the lot.” bakugou turns his head immediately, a faint pink blush spreading across the apples of his cheek.

bakugou just didn’t want you to know that the pencil was obviously an excuse to talk to you.

pt 2 of the study sesh

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat 2

In which sexy construction worker!Rafe who spends his days lifting heavy stuff and building shit (his words) and driving shy!reader home shows up on her doorstep in the middle of the night...

Hi! this is a part two to this (also this whole story was originally supposed to be just a small blurb consisting of a few silly sentences but then I got a bit carried away :D) anyways hope you enjoy xx

part 3 part 4 part 5

cw: construction worker!Rafe being a tease, slight somnophilia, smut (dry humping, dirty talk, p-in-v, unprotected sex)

wc: 2.7k

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

It’s past midnight when her doorbell rings, making her brows furrow. She throws the fluffy covers away, immediately yearning for the warmth of them as she pads her bare feet along the chilly hardwood floors of her apartment. 

No one has ever been at her door this late, which makes her hesitate. Maybe it’s just her neighbor asking for sugar, she tries to reason, as if the retired elderly lady living next door would even be up this late. For all she knows, it could be a criminal who’s escaped prison, holding a bloody knife at her.

Curiosity ends up getting the best of her (as always) and she finally opens the door, albeit gingerly, mentally preparing to face a serial killer. However, all her worries wash away like pollen under rain when she realizes it’s Rafe standing tall before her.

”Oh, hi. What are you—  what are you doing here?” A surprised look paints over her visage. 

”You forgot this in my car, thought you might need it back,” he’s grinning, holding out a phone to her, pale yellow case making her realize it’s her phone. She almost doesn’t recognize it, since it appears so tiny in his massive paw, almost like a miniature version of the device she’s grown accustomed to. 

”Oh my god, I was looking everywhere for it, thought I was gonna have to buy a new one,” she takes it from him, a grateful smile etching her features. 

”Yeah, couldn’t exactly call you,” he shakes his head at his terrible attempt at a joke.

A delighted giggle escapes her throat, nonetheless, eyes crinkling and teeth poking out; forcing the corners of his mouth to lift up as well as he finally takes in her appearance. 

A worn out t shirt a few sizes too big and…well, that’s it. She’s not wearing anything else. He’s trying not to stare at her plush thighs, or the way the hem of the shirt slightly climbs up, revealing even more skin as she rakes a hand through a messy head of hair, swallowing nervously under his attention. 

Unfortunately for the both of them, he never actually ended up fucking her when she came over to his place last week and had him cook for her. He just felt so bad about initiating something like that when she kept yawning through forkfuls of pasta, eyes barely staying open as she complained about her limbs aching and how she was so exhausted she could sleep for a week after the particularly long shift she’d just had. 

Which is why he simply drove her home after their late-night dinner and wished her a good night with a heavy hand on her shoulder, thumb smoothing over the material of her shirt, letting her rest in tranquility. Telling himself he could be patient with her, not wanting to rush anything. 

However, she’s not making it very easy for him right now when there’s only one piece of clothing covering her. She looks so sleepy and pretty he has half the mind to pick her up in his arms and slump down on her bed, crawling under crisp sheets and feel how her lungs expand against his chest. 

”Sorry, did I wake you?” He carefully asks, suddenly worried he’s disturbed her serene slumber. 

”No, no. I mean, I was in bed but couldn’t really sleep so…” she trails off, desperately trying to come up with something to make him stay a bit longer, not wanting him to go yet; finding immense comfort in his assured presence. 

”Um, do you— do you want to come in? I could make you some tea or something?” She clumsily offers. 

His brows raise, surprised at her proposition. She’s being uncharacteristically bold; his mouth twists into an amused simper.

”Actually, forget I said anything, you’re probably really tired and just wanna go home, sorry, I don’t know why I even—” she scrambles to correct herself, and now that sounds more like the girl Rafe’s grown familiar with. 

”Don’t be stupid, of course I’ll come in,” he cuts her off, stepping past the threshold, taking a look around her cozy home. Leafy plants adding greenery to the small space and picturesque paintings fixed on the cream-colored walls. It’s cute, he thinks. 

She sets a steaming mug in front of him on her kitchen table and sits down next to him on a wooden chair. He’s definitely not staring at the way the bottom of her shirt rides up the tops of her thighs, allowing for the flimsy material of her panties to peek out. He clears his throat. 

“You often have trouble sleeping?” He tries to focus on something else, anything else, taking a slow sip of the searing liquid; nearly burning his tongue in the process. 

”Yeah, sometimes. It’s just sometimes it’s hard to shut my brain off after spending all day at the cafe. I try to fall asleep but the loud noises of the customers talking and the clinking of plates and spoons keep replaying in my head and suddenly I’m wide awake, you know?” She explains. 

”I’m sorry, is there anything that helps?” He prods. 

”I don’t know, I guess just trying to think of something else or talking with someone else,” she mumbles out.

”Oh, so what you’re saying is that you’re just using me in order to fall asleep?” He teases, grinning when he manages to drag out yet another giggle from her mouth. 

”Yeah, I suppose I am,” her eyes glimmer like little stars when she looks at him. 

”Should I feel offended right now?” He jokingly scoffs. 

”No, you should feel flattered, I don’t invite just anyone into my home at almost 1 am, just so you know.”

And he thinks he likes this side of her, all playful and sleepy, she’s a lot less reserved than her usual fully rested and overly conscious self would be, more carefree. Maybe that’s the reason he lets the next words escape the gaps of his teeth. 

”You into cuddling?” He asks, profound aquamarine locking with her rounded eyes. 

”Uh— I mean, I probably would be if I had someone to cuddle with, but I don’t so…” she drifts off, not sure how to respond.

”Wanna cuddle with me?” He says it so nonchalantly, and she doesn’t understand how he’s so indifferent to this whole situation while she feels dizzy, dazed mind reeling and vivid heart tingling in her ribcage.

”Really? You want to? But wouldn’t it be weird?” She seems taken aback by his proposal.

”Why the fuck would it be weird? I mean, we’re friends, right?” His brows crease.

”Yes, of course we are, I just-”

”Look, all I’m saying, is that it might help you sleep, yeah? Having something else to focus on and shit,” he reasons, making her realize she’s totally overthinking this; he’s simply trying to help. ”You’re right, yeah, we should do that then,” she agrees and swiftly gets up on wobbly feet, almost falling face first on the ground, if not for his strong grip on her waist steadying her, grounding her, drawing a faint gasp from the back of her throat at his sudden proximity. 

”Easy there, Sweetheart,” he chuckles against her hair, finding her eagerness to get into bed with him amusing. 

”Sorry,” she mumbles, a raspberry hue dusting over her cheeks. 

And that’s how they end up tangled in each other under her soft sheets, his beefy arms wrapped tightly around her middle, caging her in with gentle fingertips toying with the hem of her shirt. His sturdy chest rises and falls against her back in tandem with his steady breaths, pacifying her; coaxing her heavy lids to flutter closed. 

He’s so warm and big making her feel so secure and safe she thinks she wouldn’t mind doing this again. 

”You good?” He murmurs next to her ear. 

”Mhm,” she blissfully croons, letting out a content exhale. 

Her mind begins to topple over the edge of reality, plummeting into oblivion; a far away dreamland where everything is upside down and the ether is evermore the shade of fluffy cotton candy and the sand consists of stardust and ecstasy. 

”Sweet dreams,” is the last thing her misty awareness grasps onto before she’s in the tender embrace of a crepuscular dormancy. 

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

She’s lethargic in her movements when she rouses from the abstruse blankness she seems to have lost herself in. Rafe’s heavy arm is draped over her waist, trapping her body into his and it’s murky in her unlit bedroom; the pale moonlight gleaming through the slots in her curtains the only beacon illuminating the space. 

The lines of her cerebrum are blurred and she’s not sure what has woken her up. 

Then she feels it; something poking her from behind, pressing against her ass. There’s a crinkle in her brow until her eyes widen in realization. 

He’s hard. Rafe is hard and she can practically feel the culprit of his excitement since he’s only wearing a pair of boxers, having complained about getting all too hot during the night to wear anything more.

She swallows. 

What is she supposed to do?

She shifts against him, trying to untangle her limbs from his. However, her attempt is proved fruitless when instead of unchaining her, he lets out a low groan, rumbling deep from his firm chest; grip tightening around her smaller form. 

”Rafe?” She calls out.

No response. 

”Rafe? Wake up.” 

Still nothing.

She can feel him breathing heavily against her hair; pawing at her hips every now and then, trying to pull her even closer, even if they’re already effectively glued together and there’s absolutely no means for her to move. 

She’s starting to become sticky between her thighs as he drags her against his cock again; seemingly stuck in a stupor. 

She mewls when her clit throbs, pestering for some sort of friction. And that’s when he finally stirs, the weight of his arms loosening like a tight knot unfurling and her lungs are finally able to greedily suck in brisk air. 

”Shit, sorry, my bad” his tone is gravelly and at that, some sort of birds begin flapping their wings in her tummy, jabbing at her insides.

However, he doesn’t pull away like she half expects; her face heats up.

”It’s uh— it’s okay. I mean…no worries,” she rambles because what the fuck is she supposed to say?

”No, it’s fully my fault, just had quite a nice dream,” he admits, voice coarse.

”Oh. What was it about?” She inquires, yawning, perhaps too curious for her own good. 

”You wanna know?” His brows raise, surprised.

She hums. 

”Well, there was this really pretty girl, and she had me in her mouth and was letting me do whatever I wanted to her,” he murmurs with a heady tone overlaying his response. 

”Oh,” she tries to appear indifferent, although there’s a pitiful sprout of jealousy threatening to blossom from the damp soil in the pit of her stomach at his words. 

He chuckles at how oblivious she is. ”You’re silly sometimes, you know?” He was practically dry-humping her just now, was he not? Why would he be dreaming about another girl when he’s got her right here with him?

”What do you mean?”

”Nothing,” he shakes his head, smiling to himself. 

”So, what else happened?” ”What else? Okay, then she let me do this,” he says at the same time as he grabs her hips again, pushing against her, earning a faint whimper from her when she can feel how big he is through the thin fabric of her underwear.

”Rafe…what are you doing?” She manages to ask through a whine; his blunt nails denting the exposed skin of her thighs. 

”Got no idea what you’re doing to me, do you?” He mutters, shallow.

”I— what are you— what are you talking about?” Her brain is foggy and she’s not able to think straight when he’s so close. 

He doesn’t answer, instead continuing the retelling of his dream. ”Then I grabbed her like this,” he lifts her on top of him in one smooth motion, as if she weighs nothing more than a piece of paper. Her inhale gets stuck somewhere along the way when he paws at her hips, shuffling her around until she’s straddling him, properly sitting on top of his cock and he lets out a heartfelt grunt when she moves her achy cunt over him. 

”You like this? Such a needy little thing, yeah?” He helps her find some relief by grappling at her hips; dragging her against his cock, filthy groans escaping his mouth when he feels her wetness saturating the two layers of cotton between them. 

”Rafe, can you…” 

”Can I what, hm? Play with you a little?” He says as he slips a hand in her panties, fingers petting at her puffy clit and a loud moan leaves her when she lifts the fabric of her shirt up in order to have a better view. 

”Didn’t know you were such a dirty girl. Getting real fucking wet from me just being close to you, yeah?” His thumb rubs lazy circles on her sensitive button, making her cry out his name as she presses down harder against his cock.

”Shit, gonna come in my fucking pants if you keep doing that. You wanna know what else was in my dream?”

She nods, frantic. 

”I pushed this little piece of fabric here to the side,” he says as he plucks at her underwear, doing just that. ”And then, I did this,” he mutters as he takes himself out from the confines and her eyes round out as she looks down at it in his palm, mesmerized. He thuds the head of his cock on her clit, one, two, three times, and then smears it on her sticky folds, painting it up and down her soaked cunt. 

”Rafe…” she whines, desperate to feel him inside her. Unfortunately for her, he’s feeling a little mean, pressing just the tip inside her tight hole, slowly pushing in and out, turning her into a whimpering mess. The hydrangea blue of his eyes is locked down to where they connect, fascinated. 

”Fuck, Sweetheart, does that feel nice?” He asks, swiping a thumb over her swollen bud, tucking his cock in a little deeper, forcing a loud noise to leave her throat. 

”Feels so good, Rafe, I think I’m gonna…” she trails off, lids heavy as she stretches around him. 

”You’re gonna come already?” he chuckles, amusement coating his face, nudging his dick about halfway in and out, never fully plunging it inside of her though. 

”You feel so good, I can’t— can’t hold it,” water droplets are gathering in the corners of her eyes, catching to her lashes as teary eyes look into larimar and she rolls her hips against him, chasing after some sort of release.

”Shit, go on then, let me feel you soak my cock, yeah?” He encourages her and she doesn’t need to be told twice; crying out and throbbing around him, hips stuttering as her cunt pulses and she’s unspooling on top of him.

”There you go, just fucking give it to me,” he grunts and all of a sudden he feels his own orgasm approaching; rolling down a hill like a landslide. She’s squeezing around him so tight, he can’t help but thrust his hips into her, a guttural moan leaving him when he stuffs his cock profoundly into her, to the hilt.

He stills inside her and then he’s groaning out when his cum gushes out from his drippy tip, coating her gummy walls in white, filling her to the brim; making her feel so full. She thinks she could die happy right now. 

There’s so much of it, to the point where the sticky substance begins to seep out from where they’re connected as they both pant, trying to even out their breathing. 

She turns into something mellow in his arms, slumping down against him, burying her face in his neck as he draws sluggish circles on her back, calming her down with tender words spoken in gentle murmurs. 

”Did so good for me, shit, we should do this more often, yeah?” He says with a sleepy tinge.  

And she’s completely out of it, head as empty as ever, merely managing an amorphous hum in agreement; tumbling down a slippery slide right back into a nebulous slumber.

[insipid-drivel]

Baby Boomers had a cinnamon challenge they won’t talk about that may be the reason why toothpick-chewers in classic movies are seen as cool

My mother is 65 and right bang in the middle of the Baby Boomer generation, but she’s very cool and does her best to be and stay woke, keep up with shifts in vernacular, and takes care to do things like make sure she’s strict with getting pronouns correct, etc. Her meme game is a little lagging, and she only just discovered the cinnamon challenge. I was surprised to see her... not surprised. If anything, she seemed a bit pleased and said, “Yep, kids are still kids.”

I stared at her for a while. “What do you mean?” I asked her. She’s seen other ancient memes like planking and never had that reaction before. Seeing the cinnamon challenge was downright satisfying to her.

She looked me dead in the face and said, “Sweetheart, I grew up in a time when you could get crystal meth over the counter at the pharmacy. They were called diet pills then.”

“Whaaaaaaat.” I knew that Nazi Germany passed meth around like candy, but that was in the 30′s and 40′s. I had just figured it had been prohibited already in America by the time my mom was growing up. “Did you have a cinnamon challenge or something in school?” I finally asked.

She half-nodded and half-shrugged and said, “Similar. You couldn’t have candy or gum in school when I was growing up. It was about 1969 in San Francisco and parents were starting to limit cigarette smoking to kids under 18, too, so a lot of my school friends were squirming all day long with nothing to at least chew on.”

“What did they do instead, mom?” I asked suspiciously, because she would not bring this subject up after I had explained to her that the cinnamon challenge was dangerous because of how horrible it is to accidentally inhale it into your airways.

“Well... Back when I was in school, you could get cinnamon extract from the pharmacy. It was just cinnamon suspended in canola oil, and you could use it for cooking or treating a skin fungus. Stuff like that,” she explained. “So the boys at my school would take toothpicks and dip them in the cinnamon extract. That’s why chewing on a toothpick was so common back then. If you were trying to quit smoking or couldn’t have chewing gum, you could carry a little bottle of flavor extract about the size of a bottle of nail polish in your pocket and dip a toothpick in it. Then you’d have something to chew on that the teachers hadn’t banned, and you could hide them in your cheek easily.”

“So what did the boys at your school get into, mother?” I asked again. We were still on the topic of ridiculous memes. This had to go somewhere.

She smirked. “Well, after a while, the boys started noticing that the cinnamon extract from the pharmacy was spicy. It burned. So it started to get to be a challenge to see how many cinnamon toothpicks you could hold in your mouth at once. It got so bad that kids would get blisters and burns on their mouths from it, and you could tell if someone had a few of them tucked in their cheek in class because their face would turn red from the neck up like a cartoon.”

“Why have I never heard about this?”

She wasn’t done. “Finally, the teachers figured out what everyone was doing and it became a pretty big deal. Cinnamon extract started getting banned or restricted to adults. Then they banned toothpicks for sale to anyone under 18, too. That’s why it was a sign of being cool, particularly among guys, to walk around with a toothpick in your mouth. It either meant you had a fake ID or that you were 18.”

I stared at her for a long time. “Mom, why didn’t they just use hot sauce? It was California. Didn’t you have peppers?”

Without missing a beat, my 65-year-old mother replied, “Honey, we were white as fuck.”

[kennahjune]

ALRIGHT BUT

I’ve been having flustered Steve thoughts.

The Party has NEVER seen Steve flustered. Steve’s always the one flirting and no one ever flirts back anymore so Steve’s never actually flustered.

But then Eddie Munson comes slithering along and he flirts with everyone just cause he can but nobody’s flustered by his attempts because he’s not trying to actually fluster them.

But for some reason he really flusters Steve.

Eddie uses this to his advantage and actually puts forth effort when he flirts with Steve.

Steve is flustered, bashful, embarrassed. He’s twirling his hair and giggling and he does this thing where he taps his fingernails on his front teeth when he gets distracted.

The Party was NEVER seen Steve like this.

Not even Nancy when they were dating.

Steve has described what he was like when he was flustered to them, calling himself stupid and saying he acted like an idiot to try and get them to just lay off.

All anyone sees is an absolute sweetheart.

Steve blushes really bright, starting with his ears and it just travels down from there. And also he’s really bad at hiding his smiles and he smiles so BIG when Eddie flirts with him. Like you can see every tooth and his eyes crinkle so much they basically close and his nose scrunches up.

And Eddie fucking THRIVES in it.

Because NO ONE else gets Steve like that.

Eddie’s witnessed Steve flirting with the girls of Hawkins. Has seen them all flirt back with varying degrees of bluntness.

None of them have gotten Steve nearly half as flustered as Eddie has.

UNTIL.

Eddie has Steve come over to the trailer to hang out. Steve by some turn of events ends up cooking and making grilled cheese and tomato soup.

Wayne comes home right as Steve is playing everything and Steve is DISTRAUGHT. Like “no Wayne it’s alright, really. I can make you some to it’s ok I like cooking you’re really doing me a favor.”

So Steve makes Wayne a grilled cheese to and refuses to let Eddie eat until they can eat together.

So they’re all sitting and then they start eating. And obviously it was a damn good grilled cheese— Eddie knew Steve could cook but good GOD.

And then Wayne puts his grilled cheese down, looks between Steve and Eddie, and tells Eddie “If you don’t marry ‘im I’m adoptin ‘im.”

And Steve BEAMS.

It’s that same smile he gets when Eddie flirts with him and Eddie is only somewhat livid.

Cause he totally gets the rush of having Wayne compliment you for the first time. He’s just such an honest man.

And it goes from there that the only people who can fluster Steve are Eddie and Wayne (Eddie romantically and Wayne platonic-fatherly).

They both go out of their way to compliment him constantly just to see him smile like that :)))

Aaahhhhh this makes me so happy!!!!

[dragonsholygrail]

Dragon hybrid meets fairy reader and tries to eat her by grilling her with his fire but sees that she’s actually fire proof? Obviously dragon falls in love instantly and eats her in another way ✨

How cool!! That’s a super fascinating combination and possible power dynamic between the two monsters.

Consider, the big bad Dragon of the mountain and one of the last of his kind, comes down to the forest below in order to hunt. His large stature doesn’t allow for very sneaky attacks but what does he need for stealth when he can breathe fire??

He thinks it’s his lucky day when he sees a clueless Fairy all lost in their own world, not paying attention to their surroundings. Fruit ripe for the picking, he thinks. He unhinges his jaw, fire building up in his throat and giving him that warm spark throughout his body. Just as he’s about to cook his meal, he sees the Fairy turn around and meet his eye. But instead of fear and panic crossing her face, she merely smirks.

The confrontation startles the dragon and the fire that bursts forth from his throat is weak and flimsy. Still, for any normal creature it would’ve made them a nice medium rare. Not his first choice but he wouldn’t complain. But when he looks at the Fairy she’s left standing, her curious yet alluring body still perfectly in tact. Not even a scorch mark on her skin!

Her clothes though… the Dragon supposes whatever magic this creature possesses doesn’t include her clothing as the Fairy is left standing completely naked before him.

Of course, the mighty Dragon has to inspect and investigate how such a small creature compared to him was able to thwart his fire attack. The Fairy, feeling very smug about having outsmarted the Dragon that towers over her, agrees to be played with. She was certain he would never guess.

The Dragon inspects her body, sniffing and searching for the warmth he senses within her. That warmth most evident between her fleshy thighs. The Fairy is surprised when the Dragon brings her to the ground, his tongue dipping into her cunt in search of the heat. The Fairy moans and her heat grows, making the Dragon all the more curious.

His giant tongue laps at the Fairy’s pretty cunt. He watches it as it grows slick, puffy, and hotter by the minute. He growls, wanting answers and his pace quickens, tongue swirling through her folds, trying to get to where she runs hottest.

Realizing it’s inside her the Dragon leans back, making the Fairy whine in protest. The Dragon releases another tunnel of fire from its jaws, though this one purposefully remaining gentle as it curls and travels inside the Fairy’s cunt. The Fairy gasps, her body shaking with pleasure as the Dragon fucks her with his fire. Thrusting in and out of her pussy as it longs for the mysterious heat inside her.

With the heat licking along her walls in a way that has her head spinning and her body tingling, it doesn’t take long for the Fairy to cum all over the length of the fire inside her. The Dragon can taste it as it travels through the tunnel and he growls, breathing more fire, forcing it to burrow deeper inside her. The Fairy moans, her body limp and allowing the Dragon in even deeper.

As the flames course through her body and intertwine with her very essence, the Dragon finally understands. Her heart beating with the strength of a Dragon and a Fairy. A half-breed. His flames leave her and he moves to rest beside her weak form, his tail curling around her form protectively.

Originally having been looking for a meal, the lonely Dragon found something much more special instead.

[reidmania]

Hey😁 you said request were open and i was wondering you could write a spencer reid fic where him and the reader get into a petty argument or something and he says something a little mean and has to grovel to the reader because she’s upset? I love your work by the way and you can add or take away whatever you want👍😊

not so funny | spencer reid

summary; after a rough day, Spencer accidentally takes his frustration out on you leading to a lot of guilt and grovelling.

warnings; spencer is mean, fem reader, he calls reader a bitch but he makes up for it, arguments, hurt x comfort, crying, it ends up being pretty cute.

an; ITS MY BIRTHDAY GUYS!!!!

“Come on spencer” You almost groaned as your voice itched with irritation, your hands flew up before dropping by your side. You were stood in the kitchen, trying to make dinner but the pasta on the stove and vegetables half cut on the counter were long forgotten.

Spencer spluttered, “You aren’t listening to me!” He groaned, bringing his hands up to his face dragging them down over his eyes as he turned his body away from you to the side. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes — this entire argument was pointless.

It started all because Spencer had come home after a bad day and was slightly snappy with you, just briefly and when you made a joke about it — he didn’t seem to take it as a joke.

“It was a joke — God” You sigh, turning back to the vegetables you were dicing before he walked in the door after work, but honestly with the annoyance bubbling in your chest you doubted you should be responsible for a knife right now.

His eyes widened, “But it’s not funny! You were just being a bitch” He mutters out, shaking his head before the realisation of his words fell on him the same time they fell on you.

Your entire face fell. Never had Spencer called you anything like that — he had commented repeatedly how much it pissed him off when peoples partners called them names like that. He had never been anything other than gentle with you.

He said your name as his eyes fell on your face. Before he could even open his mouth to apologise you were pushing past him to walk away. His hands reached out to grab ahold of your wrist as he repeated your name but you only flung his arm away from yours and you continued walking to the bedroom.

Spencer stood with his head in his hands as he knew better than to follow you right now. All the anger he had felt from the day that had built up slipped away when he saw the look on your face. — Hurt. He hurt you all because he had a crappy day.

He heard the bedroom door slam shut causing his shoulders to flinch slightly. He wanted nothing more than to follow you and spend the rest of the night apologising to you, he didn’t think there was anything he could do to express how sorry he was.

But he knew better than that. He knew it would just annoy you more if he walked in there right now and that was the last thing he wanted.

Instead he spent the next hour in the kitchen finishing the dinner you had started making — He knew wouldn’t taste nearly half as good as it would if you made it, his cooking skills no where near as good but he found himself doing it anyways.

He relished in the slight distraction but it only did so much as his mind continued travelling to you and the words that had left his mouth. He didn’t mean them. You weren’t a bitch. You were nothing of the sorts and the fact that he had even let that slip sent guilt coursing through his veins.

The day had been nothing but shit. To say the least. Everything was going wrong and Spencer couldn’t shake the annoyance. It didn’t help that right before leaving he had gotten into an argument with Morgan about something on a past case.

He didn’t mean to take his bad day out on you, he never did.

He finished the dinner, but the appetite he once had disappeared as it replaced the spot in his stomach with nothing but guilt. His feet trailed towards the door of your shared bedroom.

Every step was filled with dread as his mind traveled to every possibility. His heart shattered into a thousand little pieces as he heard your soft hiccup through the door.

“Honey?” He brought his hand up to knock on the door gently with his knuckles. His tone was the softest he had used his day — completely the opposite to what it had been the last time he spoke to you.

You didn’t reply but you went quiet. Probably trying to hide the fact you were crying. That made him feel worse — he deserved to feel worse. He knew that.

“Dinner is ready.. Are you hungry” He asked, not pushing his way through the door he was talking to you through. There was a pause on the other side of the door.

You, were curled up on the middle of your bed. Spencer’s hoodie was tugged up over your knees as they pulled to your chest. Your face was blotchy and scarred by the soft tears that stained your cheeks.

You hadn’t been able to shake Spencer’s words no matter how much you tried. You knew he was angry and had a bad day but you couldn’t help but be beyond mad — unfortunately when you are mad it ended in tears.

You wiped the tears from your face as if that would have any effect on the sound of your voice. “No.” You replied, trying to put on the most secure voice you could muster up but it wavered none the less and stayed quiet.

Your heart pounded as you closed in on yourself. “Can I come in?” He asked.

You wanted to say no, push him away and tell him to go fuck yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to, a small part of you aching for his comfort no matter how mad you were, you wanted to hear him apologise, even if you failed to believe it.

“Okay.” Your voice was small.

The door was being pushed open gently a moment after and you avoided meeting Spencer’s gaze, keeping your gaze fixated on the plush of the crisp white sheets that covered the bed.

If you did look at him, you would’ve seen his heart break all in his features at the sight of your tear stained face. His feet pattered towards you as he sat down on the edge of the bed, a respectable distance away from you, not wanting to push any boundaries.

“Im sorry” He said quietly, it sounded genuine and it burnt a way into your chest. You never brought your eyes to meet his as your mind failed to comprehend a response. You didn’t have a whole lot to say.

So instead, you just nod.

He frowns. “I am really - Im so sorry.” He said, shifting uncomfortably on the bed, eyes trailing over your face, uncomfortable silence washing over the room as he tried to figure out what to say next. “I had a shit day — which isn’t an excuse. I should’ve never called you that. I shouldn’t have taken my bad day out on you” He muttered.

You nodded curtly. “Okay.” Was all you said in response. There wasn’t a lot you could muster up as despite his apology his words burnt into the back of your mind, leaving a engravememt on your brain.

He frowned deepened. He knew he didn’t deserve your forgiveness and he didn’t expect it. He hurt you and he apologised hated that.

“I love you.” He said softly. Even if you didn’t believe his apology he wanted you to at least believe that he loved you.

You just nodded feeling a lump in your throat as your chest grew impossibly tight. You kept your arms wrapped tightly around your knees, holding them close to your chest almost as if to try and numb the burning sensation that made its way through to your ribcage.

You didn’t answer.

“I’ll leave you a plate in the microwave okay?” He muttered after a moment of silence. The silence dawned heavy and cold. You didn’t bother replying as he stood up.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment before a soft sigh left his lips. “Im really sorry” He apologised again.

You didn’t see him again that night, you assumed he slept on the couch which made you feel slightly bad but you were so.. hurt.

The argument was stupid. He knew that, he knew it was a joke and any other time it wouldn’t have bothered him in the slightest, he hated how the one time it did he took it out on you.

The next day you didn’t see Spencer when you woke up, you assumed he went to work which made a puddle of relief fill your stomach as you realised you were able to self indulge in your feelings while he was away.

You missed him.

The door opened at 7:34, a lot later than when Spencer usually arrived home and for a while you were genuinely considering maybe he wasn’t going to come home.

You turned to face him as he stepped into the kitchen where you were, the same positioning the two of you had been in when the argument first arose.

“Hi.” He said softly, placing his car keys on the counter. You looked over him and guilt fell as you he looked a mess.

He pulled his arm from behind his back, handing you a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. He chewed at his lip nervously as you didn’t say anything but took the flowers from his hand, looking over them.

Your favourites.

“I know flowers aren’t an apology, thats not why I got them” He said quietly, you remembered a conversation you had with him about hating how guys got their girlfriends flowers as an apology — and he agreed, going on to say that guys should be getting flowers constantly.

You perked up slightly as you furrowed your brows in confusion — if not an apology why now.

“The last ones I got you are browning.” He said, reading your look of confusion. Your lips pursed as you looked over at the vase you always kept the flowers Spencer got you in. They were in fact browning.

He dragged his hand through his hair as he placed a grocery bag on the table, before looking back at you. “You aren’t a bitch, you weren’t acting like a bitch, if anything I was.” He said, taking a few things out of the bag.

Your favourite snacks, your favourite drinks and a small velvet box.

Your heart tightened slightly.

He took a step towards you and you stayed in place, pulling your eyes away from the items on the table. “Im really sorry I ever said that. It was stupid and disgusting of me” He hesitantly brought his hand up to your face.

You tensed slightly but didn’t flinch away, allowing him to push strands of hair behind your ear. “You are gorgeous, inside and out. There isn’t a bitchy bone in your body and Im sorry.” He said gently.

“I am so mad at you” You said, the first proper thing you have said to him in days. He knows it shouldn’t but just hearing you talk made his pulse relax slightly — and then speed up all over again.

“Good.” He said gently, “Thats- Its a good thing. You should be mad.” He said softly, “Id never want it to be a situation where you allowed that.. where it happened often enough for you not to be mad. Be mad, mad is good. Don’t be silent” He said as his thumb brushed gently over your cheek.

You hummed. You knew deep down silent treatment was the worst for Spencer, but honestly last night you had nothing to say. “You can yell at me, scream — hit me if you want” His tone was so gentle. You just scoffed, “Im not going to hit you” You said.

He smiled, “I know.”

“You have a lot of making up to do you know.” You pushed out, trying to ignore the way your face instinctively leant into the warmth of his hand, relishing in the soft roughness of his hands.

He nodded, “I’ll do anything, sweet heart.” He said and his tone held nothing but genuine emotion.

“Okay.” You nodded.

“Okay?” He asked.

“Okay.. Spence I just said that” You huffed out. A smile lit his lips, he leant down to place a gentle kiss to the top of your head, you tried to hide the smile on your face.

“Okay.” He repeated making you groan but you were smiling nonetheless.

Spencer spent every second apologising for the next two weeks, buying you everything he saw that he thought you would like and going above and beyond until you physically and verbally said that you forgave him.

[poppy-metal]

ok OK i need to get back into the mindset to finish this p2 of dilf!Art so i need to talk to you about dilf!Art who uses you for free use but in the sense of coming up behind you with a “m’sorry just need it” before mounting you like a fucking dog and humping the shit out of you

he needs it so bad :((( especially when you're doing household tasks.... acting like a little housewife.... doing the dishes - making food - things you dont even have to do, because he's rich, he has staff, but you like to take care of him sometimes, of his home. makes you feel good. accomplished.

and art - well. hes a simple man. he's always hyped up after time on the court. its just training, exercise. but tennis always gets his blood pumping - especially now that he actually enjoys it again. a day of slamming balls across the court, working his style, perfecting it, he's drenched in sweat. his bones aching. he just wants to take a fucking nap. have dinner with you and his daughter.

when he comes into the kitchen and sees you, half bent at the waist as you rinse a pot, he just. stops and stares. he registers the oven on, and something baking inside it. his tennis bag drops.

you look over your shoulder. smile at the sight of him. flushed and tall next to the kitchen island. "hi," you tell him sweetly. "you're back!"

"im back." he echoes. swallows. puts his hand on the counter next to him with his fingers splayed out. looks behind him into the living room. "where's lily?"

you follow his gaze - "she's upstairs reading. she's halfway through percy jackson. she'll probably talk your ear off about it at dinner."

he blinks and turns back to give you his full attention. his lips are parted. he licks them. "you're cooking." he states. takes one step forward.

tilting your head, you study him. his chest is moving up and down more quickly than normal. his cheeks are pink, which could be from his activity from outside, but his eyes are dark. oh. hes turned on. by you cooking?

"i am." you tell him. "nothing fancy. im not as good as the chef you hired." you shrug. "but i thought something simple might be nice, i dunno."

"it is nice." he's covered most of the space between you now. "you're nice."

you turn back to the sink, biting your bottom lip to hide your giddy smile. being praised by art sends warmth right to your lower belly. its like sinking into a warm bath. you feel the heat of arts body behind you - "i just wanted to make you happy." you tell him softly.

arts arms come up on each side of you, caging you in. you feel his chest brush against your back and you breathe in. his forearm brushes against you as he reaches out and shuts off the running water to the sink. "im very happy." you feel his nose against the back of your neck next, trailing up, up, up, his hips meet your ass next. hes a wall of solid muscle behind you. "you smell so good. how do you always smell so good - "

you tilt your neck, letting him have access to you which he takes full advantage of. nuzzling into your throat. lips at the shell of your ear, tugging it between his teeth. "Its -" you try, fumble and try again. hard to talk in full sentences when art donaldsons hard cock is pressing against the crease of your ass. "its um. warm vanilla."

"mm." he hums. your hips are pinned between the sink and his pelvis. the short sundress you're wearing is already drawing up your thighs as he pushes forward with his body, making you bend. "i wanna tell you how much this means to me, and how much i appreciate you - but I'm distracted by how much i really, really want to fuck you."

you wiggle your butt against him. feel warm wet flood between your legs. "you know," you pant, "you know you can have anything you want - anytime - b-but the food -"

arts hands are already at your thighs, shoving your dress up and up, up around your hips, puddling it around your waist - "I'll be quick." he promises, and you hear the clink of his belt as he yanks it through the loops - the sound of his shorts hitting the ground next. "need to feel you -" you feel him, warm and hard at your inner thigh, "fuck, you're not wearing any panties. you wanted this -"

you cant even deny it. arching back into him as he finds the seam of your pussy, "i always want you." you whine, toes curling when you feel him split you open - parting you and pushing inside slick and easy. "ohhhhh-"

"you're so good." art sounds agonized. his fingers dig into your hips as he starts to thrust - smacking his hips into your ass - quick, hard pounds of his cock. he really fucking - "needed this." he groans. "needed your - fucking tight little pussy. always fucking need it-"

the pain of the counter digging into your hips just adds to the pleasure somehow. feeling completely pinned on arts cock, forced to take what you're given as he takes what he needs from your body. your warm tight body.

"its yours." you moan, soft and worshipful. "whenever you want it - its yours -"

arts teeth are sharp as they dig into the back of your neck. you think briefly of a rabbit caught in the jaws of a predator - your heart beating rapidly as you're held in place - art groans into your flesh like hes wounded. wet slaps filling the kitchen as he fucks you harder.

you tighten around him. know soon he'll be filling you up, pumping you full. you hope dinner will be salvageable. you dont think you give a fuck, though.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

(Dark!) BNHA: Toxic Relationship

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

Boys -> Hawks + Bakugo + Dabi + Deku

Reaction: Moments from your toxic relationship with your Pro-Hero boyfriend.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; Abuse; Manipulation; Non-con.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Let me know if you like this reaction format or what 🙂

–

Hawks

“Y/n is a real clutz, y’know. Can’t even walk on even ground without tripping over her own feet.”

Your cheeks flame with humiliation as the camera pans to the crowd that laughs heartily at the demeaning words, as if Keigo had dropped the funniest joke they’ve ever heard. 

“That’s adorable.” the woman laughs, “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she has no quirk? I believe you said she is quirkless, right?”

Keigo chuckles, nodding as he crosses an ankle over his knee.

“She sure is. Can’t even imagine what type of quirk she’d have, she’s just not the type.”

Your hand grips the remote tighter. What does he mean by that? Does he think you’re not good enough to have a quirk?

You consider turning off the TV, but fortunately the interviewer changes the subject. They casually speak about the current stance of heroes and their struggles on fighting off criminals and villains.

Keigo is charming as usual, delivering answers that are a perfect portrait of responsibility with a sprinkle of humor. He’s good like that, even though his previous answers left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Somehow, they end up reaching the topic of hobbies and free time. 

“Going Pro Hero leaves little time for myself, so sadly I don’t really have much time for hobbies. Wish I had.” he says humbly. “My girlfriend has lots of them, though.”

You inhale sharply. Not again. 

For your misfortune, the woman gets interested.

Perhaps because it’s an exclusive interview and her network channel gave her orders to squeeze every drop of information they can get on Hawks’ personal life. 

“What type of hobbies? She looks like she’s a great cook.” she tries to guess, but Keigo bursts laughing, holding his belly in an exaggerated mannerism. 

“Nah, cooking isn’t really her department. Burned eggs and half-cooked pancakes are more her style. She doesn’t even-”

You change channels in a heartbeat, bursting in tears at the low insults.

You’re not that bad. Sure, you’re not amazing at cooking, but never once did Keigo complain when he eats the food you diligently make after he returns from patrols. 

And now he slanders you on national television? 

And the worst part? It’s not even the first time he’s done this. 

Dabi

“There’s nothing to eat in the fridge.” 

“There is.” 

“There isn’t.” 

You stop writing your notes, swallowing back an annoyed sigh, already aware of what was happening.

“There is food in the fridge.” you repeat, “You just have to cook it.”

Dabi looks at you, unimpressed. 

“No shit Sherlock. Maybe you can do it for me.” 

“You serious?” 

Meeting his arrogant smirk, you huff. 

“Dead serious, babe. Not like you’re busy anyways.”

Your mouth drops at his audacity and you open your arms to indicate the mess of books, papers and pens in front of you. 

“I’m studying, Dabi. Can’t you see that? Grow up and cook for yourself, yeah?” you snap your attention back to your books, but your mood has already turned sour. 

You pretend to scribble down a few words when Dabi walks to you slowly. He peeks into your annotations, snorting. 

“That handwriting is kinda shitty.” he mocks you. “Besides, what exactly are you even studying for? You’re not exactly cut out to be a doctor, y’know? Not enough brain cells in you to become that.” 

You glare at him, angrily swatting away the hand that condescendingly tries to pet your hair. 

“You’re such an asshole, Dabi. Maybe if your life revolved around something other than your stupid daddy’s issues, you would actually get a job. Not like Endeavour is worried sick about you, not when he’s got Shoto.” you spit the words venously.

Not the nicest words, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to bother. 

A dark shade crosses Dabi’s face, his amused expression turning colder. You’d be lying if the sight didn’t ignite some fear in you.

“Is that so?” his crooked smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “And why would I need a job - or Endeavour, by that matter - when I have you?”

His hand reaches for your shoulder and there’s an edge in his eyes that immobilizes you. You shouldn’t have mentioned Endeavour. 

“I’m not with you because of that bitchy attitude, you know. I like my girl to know who’s in charge. Respect is really important in a relationship and your behavior is making me really upset, baby.” his tone is scaringly soft, and his hand travels to your neck.

You hold your breath when the staples on his hand scratch against the delicate skin of your throat. “So, if you need me to remind you of your place, I’ll gladly help you with that.”

His fingers heat up at a low temperature, not enough to actually burn you but it doesn’t stop the lonely tear that slides from your eye, the only sign of the chilling terror you’re feeling.

He leans forward, kissing your forehead before sliding his hand away. 

“Are we understood?” 

The nod you give him is shaky at best, but Dabi smiles nonetheless. 

“Now, how about that food you’re gonna make me?”

Bakugo

“I have to wake up early tomorrow.”

Besides a low hum, Bakugo doesn’t acknowledge you much, too busy French kissing your neck.

His hands head for your ass, provoking a wince in you when he gropes it with unnecessary strength, your left ass cheek being kneaded like it’s dough.

Katsuki uses his grip on your ass to push your hips forward even as you complain again. The thin fabric of his sweatpants does nothing to hide the hardness that shamelessly rubs against your thigh. 

“Katsuki.” 

Once again he gives no sign of hearing you, rolling his hips with more urgency and you barely catch the tired groan that almost rolls away from you.

The clock on your side reminds you that despite the early hour, you’ll only have 6 hours to sleep. 

You really have to sleep and if you’re being honest, tonight you’re not feeling sexy or horny enough to sleep with your boyfriend. 

But that doesn’t make you feel any less awkward when Bakugo’s movements turn more vigorous and needy, humping your naked thigh as if he’s fucking it while you remain as alive as a statue. 

“Fuck, this isn’t enough.” he growls against your skin, and your heart skips a beat when his hands reach for your shorts, tugging them down halfway until you panickedly grab his wrist, wiggling your body away from his.

“Seriously, Kats, I’m not in the mood tonight.” you say, quickly pulling back your shorts. 

“You fuckin’ serious right now?” he growls through gritted teeth, still hovering above you. 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you timidly nod. 

“Maybe we can do this tomorrow? It’s just that-”

“Yeah, whatever. Not like you haven’t used that stupid excuse on me before.”  

Your eyebrows raise with surprise at the bitter tone on his voice as he gruffs, pushing himself off you. 

“I’m not making up excuses.”

“The hell you aren’t.” he looks at you, angry. “Every time I try to start something, you turn into a damn nun. Always too freakin’ tired,  too busy or not in the mood.”

He scowls, spiky blonde hair falling to his eyes. 

“All you have to do is open your goddamn legs and let me do the rest, and you can’t even do that.”

His words hit a sore spot and he turns his back on you, settling on the distant side of the bed after delivering strained punches to the pillow to soften it up.

“Maybe I go after those Dynamite's groupies that are always throwing themselves at me. Since you never want to fuck anymore.”

You’re left too stunned to speak, sadness blossoming at the cruel meaning of his words and it’s a struggle to swallow the tears. 

He wouldn’t really, would he? But your mind lingers on the disturbing thought. He’s popular with girls, even with his angry mood.

Bakugo is tall, muscular and not even the ever present scowl in his face is able to contradict the attractive facial features he’s been blessed with. Meanwhile you’re just mediocre, if even that...

Your insecurities strike back, taunting you. 

Your hand reaches for his arm before you even realize it, and you’re mildly surprised when he doesn’t shake you off. 

“The hell you want now?”

Pulling on his arm until he finally turns to the side, you kiss him. 

He groans against your lips, allowing your hand to rest on the warm plane of his chest and you let it slide lower until it touches his clothed member. 

Neither of you speak a word, but you feel Bakugo smirking against your lips while he practically shoves your shorts down. 

You allow yourself go limp underneath him, letting your boyfriend fuck you in the way he wants to. Holding back a tired sigh when the fluorescent numbers on the clock mock you. 

You really have to wake up early.

Deku

“Are you serious, Izuku?” 

The tall hero jumps, eyes widening almost comically when he realizes you’re standing on the bedroom’s doorway and not cleaning the kitchen, like he clearly assumed you to be. 

“I wasn’t- The phone-” he stammers with his words, plowing your phone onto the bed with a bit too much force.

Crossing your arms, you flash him a frustrated glare.

“You promised me you wouldn’t spy on my phone anymore, Izuku.” your stern tone has him frowning and Izuku practically sprints closer to you.

“I wasn’t spying! I was just- just checking the time.” his words aren’t convincing enough for you to actually believe in him. 

You squint your eyes at him, dodging his grabby hands with a nasty slap, despite the hurt expression on his face.

“Izuku.” 

“I wasn’t! C’mon, you gotta believe in me.” 

You don’t. 

“Even if I did go through your phone - which I didn’t - why would that be such a problem?” he complains, dragging his voice. “Do you have something to hide or what?”

You point a warning finger at him.

“Don’t you dare. This isn’t about me. You’re the one who went behind my back because you’re just too insecure to fully trust me.”

He shakes his head, emerald eyes turning feverish. 

“You’re being dramatic, of course I trust you.”

“You don’t, stop lying.”

“I do trust you!” his voice rises in volume.

“No, you don’t!” you scream, voice breaking before you crumble in tears. 

You’re exhausted. Of arguing, of dealing with Izuku, of everything. When did things turn so frustrating, so tiring? Why does he always have to ruin things for you?

Izuku curses under his breath before rushing to you, engulfing you in a comforting embrace as you cry on his chest. 

“You don’t. You never will and I know that.” he stays silent, not contradicting you this time. 

He lets you cry on his chest, his hand gently caressing your hair as he mutters apologies. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” Izuku hugs you harder, arms tightening around you. “I’ll do better, okay? I promise, I will.” 

And like a fool, you accept his promise - even if you know it’s meant to be broken.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Zoro is fuckboy material.

Sanji is boyfriend material.

Shanks is husband material.

Mihawk is BDSM Dom Daddy™ material.

Earlier I refused to elaborate.

Now, I will elaborate no further than the sources below the dotted line.

dottedlinethedottedlinethedottedlineth

Zoro

He'll pull you into a broom closet without any warning at all, turn you around, pull your panties down under your skirt, and have you right there when the mood strikes.

Then he'll catch your eye across the deck half an hour later and give you a little smirk that makes your cheeks flare bright red. You're not sure if you want to either kick him in the shin or go for another round right that moment, if not both.

He's not looking for anything serious because he's just not that good at getting close with anyone or being emotionally available in general.

There's a lot of time between port towns, and you're a good match for each other's physical needs and desires, but not much beyond that.

Sanji

Even if he is a relentless flirt, he's just such a complete sweetheart. It's difficult not to swoon at those subtle little touches at your waist and hips, at his seductive murmur in your ear.

He respects every last one of your boundaries; if you tell him something he's doing bothers you, he's going to back off from it. No protest, no questions asked. He's still going to make it clear that he thinks you're incredible, but he wants you to be comfortable and happy above all else.

He's still as sweet as candy even once he does win you over. Playful and flirty and constantly planning the most romantic dates. Picnics on the beach, preparing candlelit diners just for the two of you, laying out a pallet of blankets and pillows with a bottle of wine under the stars—doing everything possible to make you feel special.

It's difficult to tell where it will go, but he's sweet and doting and fun, and he puts every ounce of effort into treating you like literal royalty.

Shanks

You're his lover just as much as you are his best friend. He doesn't hold anything back from you, good or bad, trivial or important. He wouldn't ever consider keeping a secret from you because the thought simply wouldn't even cross his mind—whatever he knows, you know. If anyone else tells him something in confidence, they tell him knowing that he's going to tell you the second he sees you.

His gestures of romance are more subtle and revolved around camaraderie than worship. If you're cooking or cleaning, he wants to be there, both to help lessen the load and to just be there with you. If he sees you washing dishes, he's right there next to you with a towel to dry them and put them away. If you're cooking, he's helping clean up after you. If you're sweeping the floors, he's apt to just take the broom from you, kiss you on the cheek, and tell you to go take a load off and relax.

Absolutely nothing could ever stop him from being with you. There could be an entire armada of Marine warships between you and him, and he would still find his way to you.

Every hope or dream you have ever had in your life is also his now. Literally all of them. It doesn't matter how long ago it was or how unobtainable it seems—if you still want it, he wants to make sure you achieve it. Does't matter what it is. He's never going to tell you it's silly or impossible or unachievable—he's going to exhaust every effort to find a way to make sure you can achieve it.

Mihawk

Hopefully you didn’t have too many plans of your own, because if you've managed to catch his interest, he's going to make sure that you're his, and probably within the next twenty-four hours or less.

He isn’t completely unreasonable. You will have the option to refuse. But he isn’t going to beat around the bush, either. He's going to pull you against him by your hips, comb his fingers through your hair and grasp it to pull you in and ask you outright if you want to belong to him.

He won't pressure you if you say no. That's your choice. He'll just leave you with a deep, passionate kiss that makes your knees weak, a light brush of his thumb across your lips, and he'll let you go.

But if you say yes...then good luck. You're his now, and he's never letting you go.

[ffsg0jo]

tw: grief, death, illness, and angst - i wrote this in like half an hour and i was really in my feels, so pls excuse me if it's bad

uncle sukuna, who's been in and out of jail, is always seemingly in trouble with the law and couldn't give two shits about it. ever since leaving home and his twin brother behind, he's only lived for himself and himself only. he'd be damned if he lets anyone change that.

he receives a voicemail from his brother one day, telling him he's had a little baby boy called yuuji. jin wants to put everything in the past behind them and would love for his brother to meet his precious son. sukuna only scoffs and deletes the voicemail almost immediately.

it's only when jin texts him a video of yuuji (who he's surprised to see almost looks exactly like him, minus all the tattoos) 8 months later babbling what could be interpreted as "papa", does he falter. the kid's adorable, but sukuna isn't ready to face his brother just yet.

many more months go by, and jin seems to have taken the hint. except he gets sent another video, this time on his birthday. he clicks on the video, unable to resist and its yuuji, wobbling on two legs, clapping his hands, and singing his own version of happy birthday (??). he's gotten so much bigger and looks so much like his father.

the only word sukuna recognises from yuujis incoherent nonsense is 'kuna', and his heart softens. he messages back a "cute." and leaves it at that. jin sees the message and doesn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

jin messages him again a week later, only this time sukuna's heart drops. kaori's dead, and her funeral's next week. he's only met her twice, but she was good for his brother, and she was always good to him too.

he sees his brother for the first time in years at the funeral. jin's hair is a mess, his face unshaven and sunken in; grief seemed to have aged him 10 more years. sukuna's many things, a bad brother included, but something in him breaks when he sees yuuji screaming in his father's arms, not understanding where his mum's gone.

he doesn't know why, but he walks up to jin and offers to take yuuji instead. the toddler immediately calms down in his hold, now more confused as to why there's a man that looks exactly like his dad but with sharpie all over him. jin breaks down, stammering out a thank you, and excuses himself, leaving sukuna alone with his nephew. he'll hunt down his brother later, but for now, he'll keep the brat occupied so his dad can grieve.

sukuna hears from his dad that jin's fallen ill months later. he's speaks to his brother more often now and has even met up with both him and yuuji a couple of times. but jin's never mentioned being sick. he's been looking worse, for sure, but he just put it down to being a single father to an energetic toddler.

he moves in with them the next week. jin keeps getting worse and even little yuuji's noticed.

sukuna tries his best. he really does. he's not been there for jin previously, but he makes sure he's there now when it matters. it's all new to him, caring for people. he tries to cook the most nutritious meals for jin, making sure they're yuuji friendly too. he makes sure the house is always clean, even though yuuji's making a mess every 10 minutes. he changes diapers (both yuuji's and jin's), bathes them both, and tucks them both into bed. he even reads yuuji a bedtime story just to maintain normacly even though he hasnt read since he was a child.

he checks up on jin, constantly seeing if he's feeling okay and gives him his medicine. he holds onto jin with the utmost care (almost carrying him) when they go to visit kaori's grave or when yuuji insists on both of them coming to the park with him. when jin can't sleep at night due to being in excruciating pain, he's there. by his side and holding him. he's never been this affectionate, but he's also never had a dying brother before.

it's still not enough, though. the last couple of days were the hardest, and even yuuji knew enough to be on his best behaviour.

sukuna silently sobs into his pillow at night, when the whole world's asleep. he's filled with regret and hatred for himself, but he knows it's too late now. he tells his brother he loves him and that he promises to take care of yuuji no matter what. jin only smiles, his eyes shining with unshed tears, and tries to kiss his cheek as a thank you, and i love you too.

jin died with one arm holding yuuji, the other holding sukuna's, and his wife's name on his tongue.

sukuna was left all alone, once again. except this time, he had no brother to give yuuji back to. as he promised jin, the stars as his witness, he'd do anything for yuuji and to keep him safe.

his life was no longer his own. he had his nephew to think about.

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[sanjisblackasswife]

Thinking about how OPLASanji is a more closeted pervert than an open one. (Part 1)

IHadTo.

Blk Fem Reader x OPLA Sanji

CW: Sanji has tattoos(🌚), Suggestive, Kissing, Touchy Touchy Sanji, ….please read his dialouge in his voice. No smut BUT next time will be filthy smut<_< just setting up the plot here okaayyy i havent wrote in a while.

“So fucking pretty..”

“You say ‘sum Sanji?”

“Nothing, madam.”

Sanji was relentless. Him so new to the crew you and him managed to get pretty close quite quickly. It’s been a few weeks now and Zoro has pointed out about 15 times already how touchy and —in his words “Freaky” he is towards you.

“Either you’re that dense or just as perverted as him because how can you not feel his dick against your ass when you both are—“

“Zoro.” Nami cut him off with a stern tone, you blink at them both on the deck. “Enough, okay.”

“Somebody had to say it,” Zoro took a sip of his drink, settling back down on the chair, “It’s been constant dry foreplay from you both and it’s annoying—“

“…Sorry.” You murmur, not really sure how to answer to him, he looks at you, scoffing. “I don’t think sanji is intentionally being like that he just—“

“Well he is. A blind man can see how he fucks you with his eyes.”

Slightly confused as to why Zoro would even think Sanji is a pervert. He isn’t. He can’t be??

He’s so sweet, and charming, you can’t deny he was one of the few men you met that have caught your attention; his dimples exposing themselves when you make him smile, his pretty delicate hands that grabs ahold of yours when he kisses your knuckles, his pretty jewlery, and when he speaks in your ear, that fucking accent of his—-

…maybe him being a pervert wasn’t too bad.

I mean, he wasn’t hurting you nor ever made you uncomfortable? You both are adults.

And adults have needs.

And if two adults have attraction for one another then…well…it shouldn’t matter much?

You shook off what Zoro said and headed back to the kitchen, maybe he was just teasing you again.

But if he wasn’t…you could possibly make use of this new information.

——-

“Y/n, my love, how are you babe? Thirsty?” Sanji smiles at you, already preppping for dinner you grin warmly back at him and take a seat at the table, his eyes follow your figure, trailing down to your waist, and glued to your ass until you sat down.

For a moment you were quiet, not responding yet to his question, but admiring Sanji’s hands, how quickly he can chop food, how pretty his fingers are, you nearly nip at your lip when you notice him roll up his sleeves and see—-

“Oh!” Your eyes widen mindlessly, you walk towards the large kitchen island and lean over, “You have tattoos?”

How could have you not notice? it’s been almost a month being together and you never peeped? He had a half sleeve done and honestly it looked so..

“You like?” Sanji’s chuckle makes you break out of your daze. “I got my first one when i was 16. And then well, it became a slight addiction.”

You stare back at his forearm again, the pretty art marked on his skin, noticing the veins complimenting it made you nip at your lip again. He smiles, your pretty round eyes watching him as he cooked, but again.

Sanji’s eyes wondered.

You were in a trance at his tattoos, trying to count and see every detail of them you didn’t even notice your breast spilling out of your low cutted tank top onto the counter.

Your pretty brown chest, literally shining from a mixture of a bit of sweat and lotion you put on earlier with your small gold necklace dangling in between your clevage, Sanji tries to tear his eyes away, but he can’t help it.

You’re so fucking gorgeous. He seen you and Nami and he was already infactuated with you both, but you seemed to be more open to entertaining his flirtatious advances than Nami so he started to fall for you a bit more.

Hugging him at Arlong Park really got him going, your breast pressed against his, the way you kissed his cheek, and you were just so happy to see him he almost felt his pants get tight from that alone.

He wanted you bad it was almost admirable and pathetic.

“I have more tattoos. Y’know if you ever wanna see ‘em.” He teased, knowing damn well he was serious.

“Hmmmm.” You walk around the counter to face his side, finger tracing the rim of the counter top. “Well maybe….where are the others?”

“I have one on side, one on my shoulder, on my back—“

“Your back?” Your eyes lit up. “Can I see?”

Sanji started to stammer, “I— um… Really? You sure?…..okay just…give me a moment.”

You giggle at his urgency to clean up his mess, putting the roast in the oven he walks towards the kitchen door and locks it, his mind running a mile a minute he turns to face you to see you happliy sitting on the counter smiling, “C’mon lemme see! I love back tattoos!”

Sanji exhales, unbuttoning his shirt he feels your gaze, once his shirt is fallen to the ground he turns, you nearly gasped seeing the huge tattoo on his spine.

His very pretty spine.

“woah.” Sanji hears your footsteps approach him, he hisses slightly at your touch, you did always have a habit of touching when not asked. “It’s so pretty.”

Your hands start to move around the outline of the art, also noticing the small scars and bruises he has gotten in past fights. You lightly touch one, and he immediately turns around, causing you to jump, “Oh. Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright. You like them?”

“Mmhm…” you land your hand on his shoulder tattoo, not even taking note to how closer sanji approached you.

You both stare at each other for a moment, it was only 2 seconds but it felt like an eternity until Sanji decided to close the gap between you both.

His lips were so soft against yours you couldn’t hold in any moan you had released, you felt his hand cup your cheek, moving you backwards onto the counter, the kisses started to get more intense the more access you allowed him into your mouth.

Nothing but the sounds of water crashing, usopp and Luffy outside playing and heavy breathing filled the kitchen. Sanji just couldnt help himself—-

His mind was fuzzy, he knew in the back of his mind he shouldn’t have been so bold with his actions but to feel your body weight against his,

a slap or two was worth it, but it never came.

Sliding his tongue inside your mouth he pushes his leg in between yours, you really don’t know why you haven’t stopped him yet, maybe it’s the way he so easily picked you up by your ass and sat you on the counter, or maybe it’s how his hands are squeezing your breast, but you knew eventually you had to—-

“Okay!” You pulled off, both of you trying to catch your breath, “Wait…I….Sanji…”

He stared at you like a lost dog, damn near ready to get scolded with his pink puffy lips, you giggled. Holding his cheek, “I’m..sorry.”

You knew he shouldn’t have been sorry, he only did what you allowed him, and luckily he was a great kisser so it wasn’t anything you technically regret doing.

“Sorry for what?…I liked it.” You took his hand and teased, “Unexpected, but…I like it.”

You brush his hair back, going in for a slower and deeper kiss, your felt his cold palms rub the sides your your bare thighs, pulling you closer so you can throw your arms over his shoulder.

You nor him haven’t had this kind of touch from another person in a long time, and you both were clearly attracted to each other …so…why not bite the bullet?

“Let’s go to my room, Sanji…”