#this is not in any way a dig at fanart

[dracodatum-co]

A not-so-young man stands in a kaiju wreckage. It just so happens that today, the 13th of April, 2024, is this man's anime premiere. Though it was thirty years ago he was given life, it is only today he will be fully animated!

[viridianvulpine]

Fuck it here’s what nezha would look like if he existed in my Oc’s world :3 (+ his weapons)

I forgot to put his species on there but he’s a Chinese mountain cat x sable (cuz I couldn’t choose between the 2 of em so he gets to be both :3)

ALSO if there’s anything wrong with the refs ignore it, I finished it at like 7am after staying up all night so I was very eepy

[girlboypersonthingy]

Was inspired by bambygourl’s fanart and a TikTok I saw. Dressing up as Roger and Jessica Rabbit for a costume party with Lucifer. I think he’d be all pouty and grumpy about dressing up as such a silly character and not a suave charming character. Tho his mood is sufficiently uplifted when he sees the reader dressed up as Jessica Rabbit. Pulling on his suspenders or bow tie for a kiss, getting lipstick on his mouth and face, and cooing over how adorable and handsome her honey-bunny is.

BYE I WENT AND LOOKED AT THE ART TOO THIS IS SO GOOD!!! Thank you for the request! And enjoy 😘

Notes: fem!reader, suggestive themes, just a short little drabble

Lucifer x reader- Honey Bunny 🤍

“(Y/N)…I look stupid.” Lucifer grumbles through the bathroom door to you, looking at himself in the full length mirror in front of him. He hated the way he looked in red pants and suspenders?! Like come on…and this ugly blue bow tie that clashes horribly with the rest of the outfit. “I’m not wearing the bunny ears. I’m not!” He complains loudly, pouting a bit when he hears you laughing on the other side of the door.

“I’m sure you look adorable, babe! Come on, it’s a costume party. Everyone will be in silly costumes!” You call out to him as you are finishing up your makeup. “Yes, but I’m the king of hell. I don’t want this to make me look bad. I dunno…just haven’t been out in a while. I’m feeling quite anxious, love.” Lucifer confesses in a soft and worried tone, still staring at himself in the mirror. He usually wasn’t such a poor sport when it came to these things but it’s been way too long since he’s attended a party, especially one thrown by one of the deadly sins. Luci is feeling the pressure.

A few minutes pass as you perfect your lipstick and check your hair in the mirror. Finally you slip your heels on, layer on a couple sprays of your favorite perfume and exit the bathroom. As soon as you pass the threshold of the door way, all of Lucifer’s worries dissolve away in seconds. A wicked smirk finds your lips as Lucifer feels himself becoming nervous for a whole other reason. He couldn’t get any words out, not one little whimper would even leave him. He was star struck by you in that gorgeous low cut dress with all that glamorous makeup on. Fuck, he knew it would be impossible not to stare at your chest nearly overflowing from your dress all night.

“Aww, baby! You look so cute.” Lucifer huffs at your cooing. “Pleeeaasssee put the ears on, I wanna see.” You plead as you slowly close the distance between you two. “Come on, Luci. Wear ‘em for me~” You continue your advance on him, getting so close that he has no choice but to stumble back onto the bed behind him. Putting on your best pout and prettiest puppy dog eyes, you lean down to get nice and close to his furiously blushing face. Without saying a word, Lucifer puts the white fuzzy bunny ears on his head, still staring up at you with stars in his eyes. Immediately, you perk up with a bright smile.

“Yay! Oh my goodness, you are too cute! Ugh, I love you.” Quickly, you lean in and kiss his lips, lingering there for a second before pulling back. “Oh, my dear, you are so beautiful. Wow.” Lucifer mumbles quietly as he looks you up and down. You couldn’t stifle your giggles as you admire your lipstick stamped so perfectly on his own lips. “You know…” You start before slowly slipping your fingers under his suspenders and gripping them tight in your fists. “We don’t have to go.” Teasingly, you crawl into his lap, now straddling him on the bed as you use his suspenders to get him closer. “We could just…stay home.” You kiss his cheek. “I could ease your anxiety.” You kiss his other cheek then his forehead. “And you can mess up my makeup all you want~”

You sit up straight now and Lucifer looses all his self control as his hands come to your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he finds himself perfectly face to face with your busty chest. His entire face from neck to ears is rapidly turning darker shades of red as a dopey smile widens across his cheeks. Bitting your bottom lip, you shimmy your chest in his face. “Whatdya say, my little honey bunny~?” Lucifer becomes weak and flops back on the bed, laying on his back as you straddle his lap still, enjoying seeing him in this state of desire and embarrassment. He puts an arm over his face in hopes of hiding from you but of course, you pull his arm away and look down at him with a loving gaze. He looks so precious right now- in this silly costume just for you, blushing and sweating and speechless all for you, and covered in your lipstick too.

“No, no…” With a loud and exaggerated sigh, Lucifer sits up and gives you gentle hug, now letting his head rest on your plush chest. “We should go. It’ll be good to make an appearance, catch up with some friends.” After a tight hug, you happily hop off his lap and grab his hand, pulling him to his feet. “Great choice, my love. This will be fun! And I’ll be with you the whole time.” You assure him before leaning over and straightening out his bow tie. Without warning, you use the fabric around his neck to pull him into another heated kiss, this time Lucifer’s hands come to your hips as he hums against your lips.

“Fuck, you’re so cute. Promise you’ll mess up my makeup later then?” You nuzzle your nose against his face as you await his reply. He hesitates, obviously flustered and trying to keep his dick under control. “Anything you want, my love.” And now you’re giggling again, pulling him by the hand out the front door. “Oh! I forgot, lemme get something to wipe your face. You’ve got lipstick every-“

Lucifer pulls you close, wrapping his arm around your waist as he smirks devilishly. He continues to pull you along out the door. “I already look silly, right? Eh, just leave it. It’ll let everyone know that the babe in the black lipstick beside me… Yeah, she’s mine and I’m hers.” It’s your turn to blush and oh boy, do you turn red.

And the whole car ride there, you’re just covering him in more and more kiss marks, even leaving a hicky or two on him as he fondles your chest and slowly becomes drunk off your lips. You two walk into the party looking disheveled but happy, Luci covered in lipstick and sweat while your hair is a bit of a mess now and your lipstick is almost completely wiped off. Hes really glad he decided to wear the bunny ears after all because he loves the way you keep looking at him tonight.

[an-apocalypse-of-magpies]

I genuinely think it is a rite of passage for a Pokemon fan to champion a Pokemon that is unpopular, uncool, or 'weak'.

For some, it comes quickly. A child sees Gulpin and thinks it's the funniest thing ever. For some, it's trying something new. The competitive battler who just starts messing around, picks up a Pachirisu, and leads it to victory against impossible stakes. For some, it's an accident. The Nuzlocker who got way too attached to an early game friend who refused to die, and grieved for their friend and comrade when their time came. For some, it's defiance. The person who kinda likes Raichu and will defend it from the slings and arrows of all others. For some, it's just comfortably growing up and realising you don't have to justify liking something, just that it makes you happy.

It's easy to be drawn to the crowd favourites. And why not? They can be powerful fighters, cute merch, fanart-bait, they have a je ne sais quoi that draws the eye. And that's still fine! I'm not going to tell anyone they're a bad person for liking Charizard, or Mewtwo, or Gengar, or Pikachu. They're popular for a reason. But there is a kind of zen, a state of enlightenment of sorts, in finding a funky little guy who isn't very good and isn't very popular but makes you smile, and you go out of your way to find them and raise them and maybe even never evolve them, despite them being a damp squib in actual battles.

One of my favourite Pokemon ever is Swinub. Swinub is not a strong Pokemon. In fact, statistically, it's one of the weakest. Swinub has 5 weaknesses, including all 3 starter types. It doesn't learn many coverage moves, and it's abilities are not very exciting either. But I love this little piglet. It's round and soft! It digs up hot springs with its nose! You never see its eyes! I just think it's neat.

It's an important thing, I think, to find a Pokemon you like just for you. Not because it makes you better than 'the normies', but because it makes you appreciate the Pokemon you do meet, not for their battling prowess, but for how much you just want to be around them. When I see @good-pokemon-center-reviews frankly doing the lord's work in sharing people who are just so happy to have their little guys, I see starry-eyed children relishing in the wonder the Pokemon world is meant to bring. Genuine, earnest joy at a plushy Croagunk will always be more real to me that any Smogon tier chart. That guy gets it. The guy being a dick on Pokemon showdown with a team of 5 Zacians and a Mega Rayquaza for spice does not.

[mysumeow]

. . . ꒰ POST-MATCH

Warnings: afab body and breasts, reader is mentioned to wear panties, PIV unprotected sex, pwp (the plot is that leona breeds you 🙄 is that not enough plot? /j), against the wall, semi-public sex?

Word count: 800

A/N: This was fueled by this fanart and the club wear card of course. My humble offering to the fandom🛐

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ 🌷 . . MASTERLIST

There are a few things in life that drive Leona out of his typical indolent demeanor. Amongst those things was spelldrive. In hand with this sport was the high after a successful match, the rush thrumming through his veins not calming down yet.

You don’t know when Leona noticed you were amongst the crowd cheering for his team, but after rubbing in the opposing team face's the win, his eyes found yours.

And next thing you knew, Leona sneaked you into a locker room, cornered you to the most hidden wall, pushed you against it, and the famished lion feasted upon you.

The high from the tournament’s success was far from over, given the hungry way Leona fucked you. With an intensity and vitality that you would never imagine the lethargic lionkin capable of.

Yes, the Leona you often discovered sleeping in the botanical garden, the one who would sneak a nap during classes, the so-called lazy housewarden of Savanaclaw...One should get the gist.

Straightforward—that was more like Leona’s style. There was no shortage of words, as you understood his desires from the beginning. Besides, acting like seeing his skin glow from the sweat running down his neck and cheeks didn’t affect you in any way would be a blatant lie on your part.

“Didn’t expect you to be this eager,” Leona’s hot breath tickled your ear, restless fingers having no mercy whatsoever as he rubbed your clit. “All I did was touch you a bit, and you managed to swallow all this in one go.” He pulled away in a languid pace to make sure you felt the hefty drag of his dick inside of you before he snapped his lower half into you with a loud smack.

You’d try to refute him; the mere thought of him smiling smugly provoked you. To your dismay, however, he occupied his other hand with stuffing your mouth with his fingers to keep your tongue in place as you moaned around them.

Despite his confident exterior, the lion man himself believed to be intoxicated by you. He can’t recall a moment he has ever felt this amount of pleasure before, the snug and wet feeling of your pussy around him. His eyebrows knit together, canine teeth teasing your shoulder and threatening to bite down from the hazy delight.

Leona's ear flicked at the distant sound of footsteps approaching.

“You hear that? Someone’s outside. Do your best to not moan too loud, unless you want them to hear?” He taunted you, the idea of stopping to wait for them to leave not even crossing his mind.

Thanks to Leona’s lion-like attributes, he was able to pick up on the sound of footsteps before you did. They came from the outside, and thus, he didn’t deem it necessary to stop. However, whoever was on the other side of the wall would hear everything if you moaned louder.

Regardless of the slow movement of his thrusts, his fingers toyed with your nub in a near cruel manner. In fact, it was lecherous how drenched you were, his digits coated in your arousal and easy to stroke them against it. When Leona dragged you in here, there was a lusty daze clouding his mind, where he barely bothered to pull your panties down, left forgotten halfway in its path down your legs. The poor fabric stretched to its limits, digging into your skin.

You didn’t realize it then, but you’d found his urgency to have you right there and in that moment undeniably hot. 

You gasped his name (albeit with not much success because his fingers were still in your mouth) the moment he sped up without warning, your body close to collapsing if not for his firm grip and the wall you leaned against.

The people who were outside were talking about the spelldrive match, complaining that the team that won played dirty and that was the reason for their success. When your gasp slipped without you meaning to, they fell in silence for a good second before picking up the conversation where they left off.

You reached behind you to pat Leona on his side in an attempt to send him the message to slow down, your resolve to stay quiet near to its end. You felt his chest, which was pressed against your back, move with a chuckle—he found your predicament amusing. He didn’t slow down, but his fingers left your mouth, and now you could bite your lip to quiet yourself. You looked down; your sight drifted to where his sex sloppily met yours, the above vulgar display of your juices mingled with his.

After what felt like forever, it sounded like those people outside were walking away.

You whined under your breath; your climax approached with little hindrance. 

Leona manhandled your torso into an upright position again, hand squeezing your chest as he held you in place. At last, that desired orgasm along with his came, dick shoved in and out of your battered cunt.

After a while of his movements slowing down until he was still, Leona groaned when he slipped out of you. Some of his cum dripped down...

“Not bad, herbivore,” His hand smacked your ass, further embarrassing you. “I’m looking forward to seeing you around more when I play.”

You were about to ask him to help you dress again, but he beat to it by crouching down to grab your underwear and helped you by pulling it up again. He released the fabric once it was in its place so the elastic would snap against your hip.

“Hurry up before your friends notice your absence…If they haven’t by now, at least.”

[michanvalentine]

Looking at the beautiful Astarion fanart here on Tumblr (thanks so much for your wonderful work, by the way), I found myself thinking about that cry after the fight with Cazador. To everything it expresses and the power of it all. It is useless to specify how heartbreaking and masterfully interpreted the sequence is. It's simply wonderful and if you don't cry too when you look at it, it means you have the emotionality of a garden gnome, lol.

But I try to empathize.

You died, not pleasantly. They beat you to death and the one who saved you was a vampire who gave you a choice you didn't have: death or eternal life. And you didn't know the consequences. You undergo a very painful transformation, become a spawn, and wake up under seven feet of dirt. Like an animal you dig your way out, with your nails, and when you reach the surface he is there waiting for you: your master. You don't understand, you're scared, he doesn't seem so reassuring anymore. And you're hungry. A hunger you didn't think possible. He gives you rules you can't break, because he controls your mind and body. You have to obey him, you have to stay by his side, you have to go hungry and, above all, you are his. Forever. And mistakes come at a high cost: after all, just existing is enough to incur the wrath of your master. And then there are the pliers and the whip for you. When you're lucky enough. Suddenly you lost all dignity as a human being and became a thing, a property. A thing with a purpose and its use to your master. What you think, what you feel, what you want doesn't matter. So you stop thinking, you stop feeling, you stop wanting. It probably hurts less. It probably keeps you from going completely crazy. You keep everything inside you. You learn to smile and obey, you can't say no anyway. You are forced into prostitution to bring back the cattle - not the people - needed to feed your master. It doesn't matter whether they are criminals, misfits or perverts of any kind. It doesn't matter if they disgust you or if they hurt you. You grit your teeth and let them use you. You keep it all inside and smile. You can't say no anyway. And your looks are the only thing you have, sex is the only talent you have. When you seduce someone, for a handful of hours, you are the one in control. You're the one pulling the strings of the game. Otherwise you are nothing. You're just a pathetic little boy who never amounted to anything. An imperfect being, despite your master's efforts to educate you. Your brothers and sisters - the other slaves - see you as weak. And like a rival. Your brothers and sisters will do anything to avoid the whip and gain the master's favor. To feed better, to sleep in a comfortable bed and not end up in the kennel. So you learn not to trust anyone, not to let your guard down, to strike first and hit hard. To be vulnerable is to be weak. To be kind is to be weak. And you spent an entire year locked in a tomb for a moment of weakness. Alone, in the dark, dying of hunger. So you keep it all inside, keep smiling and cracking jokes. Even if, after 200 years, you're a mess inside and you're falling apart. You keep smiling because you don't have a future anyway, you can't escape anyway. Appearance is all you have left and your smile is beautiful, your body is beautiful. Looks are all you have, the only thing you are desirable for. The only thing you can use to please your master and avoid torture. You keep everything inside: the loneliness, the pain, the fear, the disgust for yourself and for what you are forced to do, the sense of guilt for the people you ruined by handing them over to your master. You keep everything inside for 200 years, hidden, buried, if you prove weak you will die. You don't have to think, you don't have to feel, you don't have to want anything. This way it will hurt less.

And this is how each of those stabs inflicted on Cazador acquire power. This is how Astarion's screams and desperate cries become devastating to listen to. This is how it is impossible for the spectator not to cry. The moment in which Astarion kills and gets rid of his persecutor is masterfully directed and acted. It's a beautiful, cathartic moment that can shake you to the core. In that cry there is a whole world. There is everything that the spawn held back over those 200 years, everything that his beautiful smile hid. There is pain, desperation, relief, fear, tension, hope, loss and even grief. Because that bastard Cazador was his everything for 200 years and the void he left inside him is immense, however right, due and liberating.

And nothing, I'm all blaytering to say that I love the scene where Astarion slices up Cazador's dry ass.. For me it is a masterpiece! And I could watch it again and again and cry with the vampire spawn every time.

[hor3nee]

I luvv re6 Leon.. He's so dilfy and stinky and has the phattest ass... He's so built too I luv re6 Leon fanart and re6 Leon fics he's my favvv... also most munch of all Leon forms... His stubble scratching my thighs I can't.. Why isn't he real...

LMFSLIJLOFSI ANON YOU SO FUCKING REAL! Reusing this image because it fully encapsulates my feelings for RE6 Leon...

cw: n/sfw! masochism? face-sitting! sub! Leon

Munch Leon is just canon at this point we've all unanimously agreed that Leon S. Kennedy of any form will eat pussy for his own pleasure. But also older Leon, like RE6 Leon and henceforth, is a freak who'll actually beg you to sit on his face. He likes to get suffocated by pussy.

Shameless about it too, so if you try hovering over his face he's digging his hands back into your ass, dragging you to shove your cunt onto his face. Dragging his nose and shaking his head up and down against you, moaning and whining in his raspy breath how good you taste, and feel.

He's filthy at this point, no more careful Leon who's on edge about sex, worried he's pushing too much, or eating you out wrong. Used to be much more poised when giving you head, keeping eye contact, and using his fingers to fuck you while sucking on your clit.

But by the time he's well into his thirties, he could care less. It could either be the fact he's more comfortable with his needs, as well as your body or that he's just getting drunker and sloppier altogether.

Either way, he's all mouth now. Muffled voice 'cause he's got his mouth open, tongue flicking and slick slobbering your heat, pulling you to rut onto his face-- how he likes it. Nose bumping and shoving itself over your little clit, drenching himself in your taste.

You worry, at times, with how rabid he gets mouth agape swallowing and licking you up, dragging you to sit full weight on his face, you're crushing him. That he can't breathe, 'cause he's also stuffing his nose into you. But that's how he likes it. He likes suffocating in you, likes getting choked and crushed till it hurts so bad he's drunk on your pussy in pain.

RE6 Leon is just so babygirl like that. <3

[factual-fantasy]

28 Asks! Thank you! :}} 👑

@somcdonaldsamirite

I love The Amazing Digital Circus! :DD I just watched their most recent spooky episode as a matter of fact!

I will never emotionally recover :)

@neo-metalscottic (Cheshire cat post) (Spooky pair post)

AAAA THANK YOU! :DD I'm glad you liked them! :))

As for cookie run, it appears that I've made it to chapter 7..? Uh- the Forgotten Academy in story mode <:DD and my current auto team is this! :))

Crimson Coral and Stormbringer up front, Black Pearl in the middle alongside White Lily. Probably one of my favorite cookies thus far- and Pure Vanilla in the back! He's on his way to becoming my top favorite cookie :))

On another note, I'm glad you liked the Transformers movie! :D Perhaps I'll have to give it a go myself sometime..

Also lastly, my health.. I don't really have a timeline of when I'll get better. Over a dozen times throughout this 7 months I've thought "Oh this must be the solution! This nightmare is almost over! :D" only to find out that not only was I wrong and that didn't cure me. But my symptoms have gotten worse! :')👍

Its a very long process of waiting and experimenting unfortunately. I have another solution around the corner but I'm trying not to get my hopes up about it. I don't think I'm going to have recovered by the time I hit 30k..

But eh. That's alright. I have plans for it anyways. Thanks for checking in. <:)

@something3706

Yeah,, I've been battling some health issues for the past 7 months or so. Its been really hard and my life has been basically been put on hold because of it..

I'm working though it as best I can. And I'm hoping that I'm finally on my way out of this pit.. thank you for the hugs and well wishes <:')

(Link in question)

Oooo! :0 Thank you! I'll have to give it a watch! :}}

@metalmewtwo-kxb

AAAAAA THANK YOU!! :DDD I adore all the comments that say my post single handedly made people like Conkeldurr XDDD :}}}

Crazy how it says the source when my watermark clearly states that all reposts are stolen. No one that reposts my artwork has my permission.

AAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD The whole point of not making them talk was trying to convey emotions through body language. I'm so glad I've seemed to pull it off well! :}}]

I've seen a lot of people talking about, I've been considering it! :0

If you are able to, that is always appreciated <:/ thank you..

You mean Princess Peach showtime? So far I like the look of it on the surface! :0 Seems to fit her character better in my opinion.

Oh yeah I've seen a looooot of fanart about those characters. I plan to dig into each characters lore once I'm able to! :)

@thetiredpenguin

Ohhh okay, that's good to hear! I wont have any hang-ups about deleting OvenBreak then <XD

Also the third game I got was Tower of Adventure- I haven't heard of Witch's tower till just now.. but if both their lore's are unrelated to the Kingdom lore, then to heck with it! I'll probably uninstall Tower of adventurers too! <XDD

@llamagal21 (Referencing this post and this post!)

NOOOO MOMOOOOO 😭😭😭

I've actually already drawn this! :DDD

I've watched a Garfield show and seen a movie here and there.. they were alright :0

@spaceranger13

Oh- the FAQ is after the keep reading- but none the less I use FireAlpaca :))

Also WAHGG THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD I'm so glad to hear that! :}}}

@i-only-created-this-to-read

My idea is that a lot of the OG slime rancher translates into the submas version. What I mean by this is that a lot of physical labor is involved when it comes to tending to the ranch and the slimes, despite the technology that they have. However the slimes and Tarrs have changed a bit..

While the slimes are more intelligent and only eat plorts when they intend to evolve, they can also eat as many plorts as they want without becoming a Tarr.

"Well then what are the Tarrs" you might ask? I was thinking that Tarrs are these beasts that are separate from slimes.. or at least the twins cant figure out what causes some slimes to turn into Tarrs..

@burnt-pie-eater

I've heard of it and seen a few YouTubers play the demo(?) but I unfortunately just cant get into it <XD All the characters voices get on my nerves and I don't really like the idea of them being these living anthropomorphic creatures..? I'm pretty FNAF coded so I would have preferred if their IRL counterparts were animatronics instead.. 😅

@mr-damian-s-power

I remember when I first made my version of DK I considered the Bros giving him a tie or DK making one of his own.. but I never got around to it.

I can imagine DK wouldn't be comfortable with something being tied around his neck all the time, especially if its bright red.. might make him and the other kongs think of blood, you know?

If the brothers gave him something like that I can see him tying it around his wrist instead or giving it to Diddy for him to use. :0

(In response to this post)

Yeaaaahhhh,,, its gets confusing fast. I'm hoping the post I made helps clear it up for some people though <:)

@gaillol-13

I have not <:/ google seems to suggest its a movie..? :0

@sillygoblinmantics

XD Great minds think alike! :)

@thesillyguyy

I feel like a curse has just been casted on me

This post I made a while back shows/talks about the plans I have for my version of King Boo/Luigi's mansion :0

As far as I've planned, E.gadd and Polterpup are not apart of my AU. Its just King Boos and his Boos living out in a random mansion out in the woods :0000

XDD Noooooo she's not a cannibal!!

@air-conditioning-unit

Thank you,, I'm in the process of waiting for stuff atm. But I'm hoping my symptoms improve soon.. <:(

Also thank you! :DD I'm glad to hear you like my sona's design! :))

@dunkudunk

Zorua's lore is still being thought over.. but I'm thinking that her mom was attacked by something and killed.. Zorua managed to escape with mostly minimal injuries all things considered. Soon after she ran into Conkeldurr and he took her under his wing. They've been together ever since..

I've sure tried 😅 but cars are really hard to draw!

[mysteria157]

Chapter One

Pairing: Black Fem!Reader x Hitman Toji Fushiguro

CW: Profanity, Hints of Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Comfort

Word Count: Don't worry about it.

Summary:

“I’m only going to say this one more time, Toji. I don’t do situationships. I don’t do friends with benefits or the occasional hookup. You want more? I want you to try. Earn me.”

His hands are so bloody, that if you ever knew the source, you would'nt want someone like him to try. He shouldn't be here, taking up so much of your time, asking for more. But he's selfish.

-or; Toji, a notorious hitman, moves to America for more money and a better life for his son. He didnt expect to sleep with you, let alone want more. When his dangerous life catches up to him, he takes on one final lucrative hit, but realizes this target has unseen connections hitting closer to home. Now he must navigate a perilous job while desperately keeping his criminal double life hidden from you.

Authors Notes: Hello! I hope you all enjoy this first chapter. As stated in the masterlist, this fic is a continuation from Maneater, so reading that will definitely help set the tone for this fic. I plan to dig deep with this story and really find my voice writing a different genre.

As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy and thank you for your support!

| Twitter | Ao3| Masterlist | Prologue | Next Chapter

Dividers: @royallaesthetics @eloquentmoon | Header: created by myself (fanart from Pinterest)

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

…women like you drown oceans -Rupi Kaur

*** You ***

Pop!

The sharp sound of gum expanding and then exploding causes you to flinch, your eyeliner pen frozen just above your lid. Through the mirror’s reflection, you shoot a glare at the open closet door, where your cousin rummages through your clothes.

Pop!

She’s in her own little world. If this were any other circumstance, she would have been scolded for her habit of popping gum—a top offender on the list of annoying behaviors ingrained in both of you since childhood. You detest the sound, and if you were closer, you would have punched her in the stomach by now.

You and your cousin typically get along well, but she enjoys testing your limits to coax you out of your shell. The only way to shut her up is by letting her tire herself out during her talkative rampages or swinging at her when you’ve had enough.

Every day with her is a gamble of which will come first.

Your eyeliner is still hovering by your upper lid, suspended in place as you watch another sundress get haphazardly thrown against the closet wall instead of being put back on a hanger where it fucking belongs.

You can’t bother with trying to get violent with her, you’re way too preoccupied with other thoughts. More incessant thoughts like how to play it cool on a date. It’s not that hard, right? Be yourself, get a gauge of the man trying to impress you, entertain a few hours of your day and then back home to relax.

Easy.

If it were anyone else but Toji, then it would be easy.

You had buried yourself in double shifts and extended hours in the lab just to distract yourself from today. Anything to keep you busy and keep your mind off the fact that someone you are sort of interested in…wants to see you. And he reminds you every day when you look down at your phone.

Despite his admission of being a lazy texter, Toji is surprisingly consistent. But the messages take on a blunt form wrapped around a small pearl of care.

Toji: Eat breakfast. What good are you in a hospital if you pass out?

Toji: Stop taking on more shifts, its stupid. Go home and rest.

Toji: You better not be tired this weekend. 

No matter how hard you try to force your face to stay immobile, each text makes your lips twitch into a small smile. He masks his words in harsh deliveries, but the intention is obvious. The satisfying jolt that shoots up your spine when your phone buzzes with a notification from him should be embarrassing. It should be.

But you love it.

It’s absurd, really. Only two weeks have passed since you met him, hardly enough time to form any meaningful connection. Yet, that night at your uncle’s was unexpectedly delightful. Toji was, against your better judgment, charming and attentive, almost to the point of clinginess. And, undeniably, he’s attractive. And a fucking fantastic lay.

So, despite your instinct to ignore a man and the way they flaunt their feathers for your attention, you want Toji to bring that same energy as last time.

You lean your elbows back into the shiny wood of your vanity, focusing your attention on your eye as you lower the eyeliner to your skin.

Pop!

The sound makes you jump, disrupting your focus and smearing the eyeliner across your temple.

“Rene!” you bark, slamming your eyeliner down on the vanity top with a force that makes your hand sting, and you yank a drawer open in search of a makeup wipe. “Stop popping your gum before I come over there and beat the shit out of you.” As you wipe off the smudged makeup, you catch the reflection of your cousin emerging from your closet.

She embodies a beauty that’s almost blinding, matched only by her lively personality. So naturally, heads turn when she enters a room, her chocolate skin seemingly radiant wherever she goes. With her thick, kinky hair always in a protective style and her unshakeable confidence in her intelligence and appearance, Rene caught Shiu’s attention immediately, and he’s been captivated ever since.

She is one of very few in your family who truly gets you, who sees the world with clarity and understands its nuances and how to navigate through it without compromising her ideals. Since childhood, you’ve stuck to each other like glue. She understands you and your guarded demeanor, you understand her and her loud personality. She’s one of your best friends.

But at this moment, as she stands before you in booty shorts and a tank top that accentuates her curves, her twist out cascading from a pineapple updo, and an outfit draped over one arm, she is pissing you off as she pops her gum againwith a cheeky expression.

“I like your makeup.” A sly grin stretches on her face, enhancing her soft features. You ignore her, feeling your defenses rise as she effortlessly peels back your layers. The liquid eyeliner glides against the smooth brown of your skin, forming a subtle cat-eye as you pretend not to notice her approaching you from behind.

She gracefully settles onto your vanity top, ignoring your lipstick casing that teeters over and rolls across the shiny surface. You shoot her another glare before moving to your other eye. “You should put on some mascara too. When you give him head later today, I’m sure he’ll love to see it run down your cheeks and—”

You swing at her not even a second later, landing a solid smack on the side of her thigh. “UM Ow?!”

“Um?? Shut the fuck up,” you growl, sneering at her with a leveling scowl that you hope cuts through her.

It doesn’t.

Rene snorts, shrugging off the vanity and moving to your bed to change her clothes. As she pulls your dark jeans over her thick thighs, you can’t help but wonder if you should dress more…sexy?  Your jean shorts reveal enough skin, and the jersey fits snugly around your torso. You’re no stranger to dressing to the nines and making heads turn just like her, but you value practicality more than appeal. It’s a football game, after all, and you love football. Why bother looking overly sexy when you’ll be screaming and stuffing hotdogs and pretzels in your mouth?

Despite the logic, a hand of insecurity tightens around your throat.

Rene, like the annoyingly clairvoyant bitch she is, tastes the shift in the air and rolls her eyes at you through the mirror’s reflection. “You look fucking amazing. Toji asked you out—frequently, I might add.”

The memories of his persistence flash through your mind in a rush. Heated touches in the backseat of your truck, sweaty skin sliding against each other, and your mouth dripping with moans of satisfaction were constantly interrupted by his repeated question.

“Let me take you out.”

As if he couldn’t get enough. As if he wanted more. As if he wouldn’t leave your uncle’s house that night until you flat-out told him to leave you alone.

You haven’t entertained a man since your cheating ex, so your defenses remain high and guarded, fortified with brick and mortar, armed to fend off anyone who comes too close.

But in such a short time, Toji managed to advance further than others with hard skin resilient to your attacks, and a constant insistence to be by your side. He’s spoken to you in ways that would have landed others in the ER, yet his words were always laced with harsh care to make you confront your own overreactions instead of hiding.

“Stop acting up and let me be nice to you.”

“You’re not mean to men; you just don’t do bullshit.”

“It’s okay to be a little excited about this,” Rene interjects, slicing through the thick current of your anxiety.

And you are, excited and a little nervous, though you don’t respond to her, simply reaching for your clear lip gloss to finish your makeup.

By the time there is a knock on your door thirty minutes later, you and Rene are ready to go. Your curls are piled high on your head, tendrils falling to frame your face and your hairline slicked with curled edges. There’s a subtle shake in your hands wrapped around the handle of your front door, betraying the calm façade you wear.  As you open it, expecting Toji’s familiar face, you’re met with Shiu, a toothpick in his mouth and a gentle smile playing on his lips.

You greet him warmly with a hug, letting him inside. He can only hug you for a second before rushing past you and toward the direction of your room, anxious to see his fiancé. “Don’t fuck on my bed!” you yell after him, loud enough for your cousin to hear.

It’s only a minute later when there’s a knock at the door that makes you jump, shocking you into reality again as you realize that you haven’t moved since inviting Shiu inside. In your stupidity, you look through the peephole and swallow the gasp at Toji’s distorted form.

“I can see your feet. Open the door,” his deep voice cuts, familiar and commanding.

Your fingers curl against the wooden surface of your door, nails scratching lightly along the veneer as you wrestle with the innate temptation to be stubborn. Besides Nanami Kento—another close friend and coworker—Toji is the only man you’ve let talk to you like this. He’s a little bit of an asshole, but beneath his rough exterior lies a tender core that beckons you to peel back the layers like an onion, eager to feel just how soft the bulb is in the center. You’re drawn to him in a way you can’t explain, and it’s a longing that ignites a hunger that you haven’t experienced in a very long time.

With a resigned sigh, you swing the door open to be welcomed by the sight of him, a picture that leaves you momentarily breathless. You swallow the drool that pools instantly in the back of your throat, curl your toes in your sneakers to resist the urge to spring forward and slant your lips against his, and bite the inside of your lip so the twitching on the sides does not turn into a gentle smirk.

“You look good, baby,” his words roll off his tongue effortlessly, his gaze sweeping over you with a knowing intensity. It feels as though he’s studying a heavily guarded masterpiece that he finally has his hands on to steal. He notices every stroke of paint, every blotch that makes you who you are and it’s with a concentration that leaves you dizzy enough to grip the door tighter in your hands.

Though only a week has passed since you last saw him, his presence still grips you with a force that borders on intoxicating. Clad in a black shirt that accentuates his commanding presence, his broad shoulders exude a magnetic strength that summons you, stirring a primal desire to dig your fingernails into him like you did that night in your truck. One of his hands is tucked in a jeaned pocket, the other is behind his back, and jet-black locks brush his cheeks as he chuckles, undoubtedly amused by the dumbfounded stare that you’re still shooting his way. His scar cradles the side of his lips in a seductive curl as he smirks.

God, he’s so—he’s so—

His presence seems to fill the entire room, a tangible force even without crossing the threshold of your home. An urgent ache surges within you, craving the warmth of his embrace, the security of his strength.

“You gonna let me in or just keep your mouth open for the flies?” His voice breaks the reverie in your mind, a well-known blend of annoyance that fills your chest immediately. You’re reminded of how effortlessly irritating he can be, yet there’s a strange allure in his confidence.

At this point, you don’t have a quip loaded up quick enough to shoot back at him. So, you step aside and hold your breath as his large body crosses the threshold of your home.

The last time he was at your door, he barged inside with a barely contained fury and pulled you into an argument that stemmed from your unwillingness to be vulnerable and his lack of expertise in expressing himself. It was a weird song and dance that marked the beginning of something you still don’t fully understand. Now, he’s here with a slightly different demeanor, calm and self-assured as he plants a firm kiss on your cheek as if he’s a hardworking husband returning home just in time for dinner.

You gape at his nonchalance, watching in disbelief as he kicks off his shoes and pulls his hand from behind his back, presenting you a bouquet of flowers in a manner that feels both rushed and sincere. You look down at the flowers, wide-eyed and blinking to make sure the reality you are currently in isn’t actually a simulation.

Daisies.

Not the cheap, wilted blooms you kind of expected from him, but fresh, vibrant flowers. Their white petals gleam softly, each grain of pollen in the yellow center visible in the light of your kitchen. The stems are freshly cut, wrapped in a simple red bow and your chest is fluttering with a severity that unsettles you.

“I didn’t know what kind you liked. And I don’t trust Shiu with an honest answer so…” His words trail off, leaving unspoken sentiments lingering in the air.

 Your lips curl around words that won’t form, and you mentally sort through your book of tricks. It’s a book you’ve spent years filling after countless experiences. Men will do just about anything for pussy. There’s no reason to be shocked at why they do the things they do—they’re all the same.

But even from that first day you met, you have already shuffled through your book when it comes to Toji. Every time you look up whatever trick he tries to pull, you come up with an empty page. There’s never a solution or a pre-written response that you can use. You have no choice but to figure this out on your own and fill in the pages later.

“If you don’t like them, you don’t have to take them,” he cuts into your thoughts, words edged with a trace of embarrassment that he’s trying to cover up with frustration. “Just give them back—” He reaches for the flowers, and you reflexively pull your arms away, much to your own shock at the way your body moves on its own.

“I like them,” you blurt out, your voice not as strong as you want it to be but thankfully steady as the words leave your lips. “They’re very nice, Toji. Thank you.”

He drops his hand, shoves it deep into the pocket of his jeans before clearing his throat and giving you a sharp nod. His eyes take in your face for only a second before they flit away to focus on a random spot in your living room, a hint of blush on his cheeks that makes the fluttering in your chest pick up in speed. It’s a weird feeling that will consume you if you don’t stay in control.

So, you push it down, swallow the pool of saliva in your mouth so it can help the glide, all the way down to the pit of your belly to extinguish the embers that threaten to lick to life. You shuffle past him and into the kitchen to fetch a vase, your mind sorting through the symptoms of various pulmonary diseases to distract yourself from the giddiness of him getting you flowers.

A normal thing. The bare minimum for a man. But it makes you feel great all the same. They aren’t your favorite, not even close, but it’s a gesture that shatters your preconceived notions about Toji that probably shouldn’t be there in the first place.

“What are they?” he asks, face still pink below his eyes that linger on the countertop instead of at you. You untie the bow at the stems and slide the daisies into an antique vase with crystalline ridges, shooting him a questioning raised eyebrow in response. One of his hands gestures wildly to the vase you are filling with water. “Your favorite flowers.”

“Snapdragons.” Toji throws you a quizzical look, his eyebrows pinched together in a clear display of confusion that makes you chuckle. You push the now full vase of flowers to the center of your kitchen countertop, the sight warming your stomach no matter how much you try to stop it. “They aren’t in season, but there’s a vendor here that sells them in the Spring and Fall. Growing up, we lived right next to a river where they would grow. My father would pick them every year and bring them to my mother as a gift. Whenever they wilted, he picked more and replaced them…over and over until they weren’t in season anymore.”

You dig your teeth into the wet flesh of your cheek to stop yourself from rambling, the need to talk more about yourself is at the tip of your tongue. He’s quiet as he takes in your response, eyebrows twitching with fleeting emotion before they smooth out into their usual calm expression. Maybe it’s your eyes playing tricks, but he looks as if he’s locked away your little nugget of information and is ready to move on to the next thing.

More of you.

That gaze is now free of shyness and taking you in, sharp and cutting and rough around the edges, his green irises sliding down to the exposed skin of your thighs, and they must beckon him because he makes his way towards you with a dominating presence that tightens your throat. He walks around the countertop, avoiding the sharp edge from biting into his side and now he’s standing in front of you, looming and dwarfing you without even trying. You catch a whiff of his cheap cologne—a different scent from what you smelled before—but still rich with bergamot undertones that make you more curious than bothered at his frugal mentality.

“Can I kiss you? Or you gonna smack me instead?”

Even though he’s teasing, he displays the growing knowledge of your boundaries and the lengths you will go to protect yourself.

“What, you want to get smacked, Toji?” you retort, lifting an eyebrow at him, your neck tingling from the strain of looking up due to his height. God, he’s such a big man. Big and burly and just enough to overwhelm you in a way that you crave so, so much.

“Nah. I want a kiss,” he confidently responds, blowing away the cloud of lust from around your head.

He’s too close and yet not close enough. He smells too good, looks too good with a voice that’s too deep and melodic for you to ride on logic for a full day, but you need him closer, so much closer and—

Your back brushes against the edge of the kitchen sink, making you tense at the realization that he’s backed you up against it and is looking down at you with that nasty smirk you entertain more than you should.

“You…” you begin, trailing off when one of his muscular arms reaches past you to rest onto the counter on one side, still giving you an escape route even though you’ll take being trapped against him any time of the day. “You already kissed me on the cheek when you walked in without asking me. Don’t be stingy.”

Toji clicks his tongue in disappointment, the sound pushing a rush of electricity down your spine that’s generating too much energy between your legs. He shrugs, broad shoulders pulling up and down, stretching his shirt in the most delicious way. “That’s not enough.”

Although lust is darkening your thoughts slowly despite your resolve, you still have enough common sense to remember the kind of woman you are. You’re someone unwilling to tolerate fuckboy behavior and would rather humiliate a man than give in to temptation that would only embarrass you in the future. You have to stay in control. Just for the rest of the day to measure his intentions with a level head. Even though you feel heavy with lidded eyes, you slip into that second skin of yourself with ease.

“Ask nicely,” you whisper.

He takes the bait—like they always do—and slinks further into your space, his broad and muscular form brushes against your softer one. Your gaze remains indifferent as he asks to kiss you in a sing-song voice that’s borderline annoying and teasing, threatening to make you laugh despite your resistance.

You take in his question with a noncommittal hum and slide a hand up the soft fabric of his chest. The muscles underneath flex and twitch beneath your palm, echoing memories of that unforgettable night when you could slide your fingers on the sweat of his abs as you rode him for all he was worth.

Your hand rests against his cheek, watching as he slowly falls for your trap, inhaling deeply with his lips a mere breath away from yours before you speak calmly and softly.

“No.”

You stroke his cheek in a soothing manner before patting it a little too hard that’s close to a smack, yanking a grunt of frustration from him as he pulls away with an bothered growl. You relish in the sigh of his scar twisting when his face curls with annoyance, his eyes rolling and his arms folding across his chest like a child being denied dessert. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your lips, growing in intensity as his eyes narrow at you.

“You’re so damn annoying,” he pouts, and the fact that he truly looks put off for not getting a kiss only makes you laugh harder.

***

The sight and sound of cheering fans excite you, filling you with childhood memories of games with your father. As the four of you make your way through the large parking lot and in the direction of the stadium, you take in the display of emotions that cross Toji’s face as he is immersed in a part of culture unfamiliar to him. The intricacies of American sports are puzzling to Toji, you realize. While you wave excitedly to the fans who are tailgating and grilling food and playing cornhole, he looks on in disbelief. When you explain the concept of tailgating to him, his expression deepens even more. He doesn’t like the hecklers that litter right outside the entrance and try to sell nosebleed tickets twelve times the market price. He thinks porta-pottys are foul as he takes in the long line of people who wait along the side of the large parking lot. You can tell he’s a little overwhelmed, and aggravated by the new things he learns. But he doesn’t complain, content to listen to the three of you as he watches his surroundings.

Despite the array of emotions that engulf him, he keeps you by his side without a second thought. The closer you get to the stadium, the thicker the crowd gets. When you make it through security and begin the long journey up the stone circular walkway of the stadium, Toji wraps a muscular arm around you and rests his hand on your hip in a grip that conveys a protective strength that shoots fluctuating reactions through you.

At first, you think he just wants his hands on you, and you’re prepared to smack his touch away. But then your perception shifts; a random man bumps into you with a sharp elbow into your arm and he turns around with an angry expression ready to yell. The glare that Toji levels at him leaves the man sputtering and apologizing before he slinks back into the crowd.

Normally, you don’t thrive off blatant displays of masculinity, but the sight of the man running away from Toji’s imposing stare makes your stomach fill with a deep-seated lust that surprises you. Like you’re a cavewoman, watching her caveman beat at his chest when another caveman gets too close to you. Toji grumbles to himself about the sheer number of people, his voice tinged with frustration even though his reassuring touch is gentle as he guides you through the throng of people toward your seats.

Thankfully, they aren’t nosebleeds, and they give you a good view of the field, with players already warming up. There is a large group of kids who hang off the rails, squealing in delight as their favorite players come and say hello and sign their jerseys and footballs. The speakers boom with music and commercial ads, the warm air carries the smell of popcorn up your nose, and your blood pumps in excitement.

It has been a while since you attended a football game, distant memories of sitting on your father’s shoulders as you both cheered in the stands. Since his death, you haven’t had the drive nor the time to attend another. So, to be in this position again with a man you are still trying to understand, it’s odd. But it’s not unwelcome and you’re going to enjoy every minute of it. When you watch football at home with your family, you’re a different person. You are loud and unashamed to express your feelings when you watch the games unfold. You stand up and sneer and bark at the officiant who can’t even hear you. You argue with your family about plays and players who will never know you. You love every emotion that the game brings out in you, and you’re unashamed to hide it. Toji is going to see a side of you that will either push him away or make him slink closer for more.

So, when the game begins with the kickoff, you join in the collective screams of the crowd, waving a towel in the air adorned with the yellow and black of your favorite team that is playing.

To your surprise once more, Toji did his homework. He effortlessly explains the rules as you both watch the first quarter together, looking to you for approval to make sure he’s correct. His attentive nature transforms into active participation as he cheers alongside you, his voice deep and booming compared to your screeching.

In the second quarter, there’s an injury on the field and the clash of pads ceases for long enough that fans leave their seats for food and to stretch their legs. Shiu and Rene disappear to get themselves a drink and it’s just you and Toji in the middle of empty seats.

“You’re a screamer,” he teases, his voice low and appreciative as he leans on his thigh with a cheek resting on his fist. His hair flows in the warm air before settling on pale cheeks.

“Too loud for you?” you retort, even if mildly curious about what he thinks of this side of yourself.

Toji purses his lips as he regards you with relaxed eyes. “It didn’t take me long to realize you’re not a dainty little thing. And besides,” A smile stretches across his face, white teeth glinting with a sinister disposition before his lips load with a remark you know will be salacious. “I like my women loud.”

You can be loud if he wants you to be. Preferably in another place besides your car where he can thrust like a man mad between your legs and dig those gleaming white teeth into the skin of your neck—

Oh.

For fuck’s sake. 

Your blood simmers in your veins at the suggestion in his words. His eyes watch your throat when you swallow a thick pool of spit and that smile grows impossibly larger, a Cheshire cat looking at you with nasty intent. He’s too aware of the effect he has on women, and you have to look away from him to resist succumbing to the seductive charm that he wields naturally.

You steer the conversation back into your hands. “You were so curious about me when we first met but I don’t know much about you. Are you here in America for a reason? What do you do for work?”

In your own line of work, observation is key; every subtle cue from your patients holds significance, revealing layers of truths that they usually try to conceal. So, when you notice the tension in Toji’s jaw at your question, the way his features contort subtly, it’s a detail you slot into a drawer of curiosity that takes part of the file cabinet of Toji in your mind.

“I’m a private investigator,” he confesses harshly, catching you off guard. It’s a revelation you don’t anticipate. His imposing features give you the impression of a firefighter or maybe even a cop. Not someone watching others in his car, bugging houses and apartments, and gathering evidence. A PI? You open that drawer of curiosity again and slot away this information as well. He shrugs away the awkwardness that your silence brings, nonchalant and dismissive, avoiding your gaze. “It pays the bills. The hours suck sometimes but…the work is easy.”

“So…naturally I can’t really ask about the things you do?” you don’t hide the inquisitiveness that coats your words.

“It’s nothing glamorous enough to talk about.” And that’s all he offers you in response.

You have a myriad of questions swirling in your mind, each vying for attention from a man who is as tight-lipped as you. How did he even get into this kind of work? Who are his clients? Cheaters, embezzlers…or criminals?

That and so much more brew in your mind, tumbling over the other but ultimately dissipating when you sense his reluctance, evident from his still-averted gaze and tense shoulders.

“What about family? You asked me about mine, but I never got to hear about yours.”

Granted, you only told him about the members of your family who danced in your backyard when you both were wrapped in one another two weeks ago. He doesn’t know about the more intimate parts of your family life. He doesn’t know about your father’s death, or the estrangement of your stepfamily. But that can come later. Toji hasn’t given you enough of himself.

Toji’s features now morph into disdain, souring the air between you. The bright emerald of his eyes dims with a grayish overcast, the liquid of the irises hardening like cooling lava.

His response is terse, laced with palpable displeasure that intensifies the acrid taste in the air. “There isn’t much to tell. I don’t get along with them, and they do their best to not get along with me either.” The timbre of his voice is lower, menacing enough to let you know it’s a subject he won’t entertain. At least for right now.

You open your mouth to speak again, to maybe apologize for making him uncomfortable, to reassure him that you wouldn’t judge him over something like this. He shifts in his seat, clasps his hands together and absentmindedly picks at a callous on the side of his thumb. The pink flush on his cheeks is not one of bashfulness, but of frustration and embarrassment. From the sliver of his eyes you can see, there is something simmering beneath the surface that might take you a while to unveil.

 “I do have a son, though.” The sentence shoots into the air and down your spine with a chilling clarity, breaking the flow of your thoughts as you blink in astonishment.

Pardon???

Considering he’s a grown man a few years older than you, it’s understandable. But the notion of him being a father never crossed your mind. The concept of children isn’t foreign to you; you see and take care of them every day. It’s the concept of children coming from him that’s a new development you have to consider.

While you believe you can handle a relationship with a single father, you’re upset at being told now, rather than before.

“You were with me all day two weeks ago and you never took the time to mention you have a son?”

You don’t hide your irritation. Once your trust is lost, it’s almost impossible to regain. Why would you give away sacred pieces of yourself to a man you wouldn’t trust to hold those pieces with care?

Despite your frustration, you rationalize.

Maybe Toji was nervous to bring it up? Some people may like to ease into such topics. This relationship, or whatever this is, is brand new and smooth. There haven’t been any cracks caused by arguments or behavior that is damaging.

But this isn’t about having a job that he’s not proud of or admitting that he is not financially responsible. This is about an entire child, a facet of his life that he cannot hide away. How long would he have waited to tell you if the topic of family hadn’t come up so soon? Would he have told you? Would he hide his son away and push him off to a babysitter on date nights so you are never aware? Would he sleep over at your house, so you can’t see the room that’s decorated for a child or the toys scattered about the floor?

As you wrestle with the growing anxiety that crawls across your skin, Toji fumbles for something in his pocket, his face a satisfying beet red as you watch him hand you his open phone. Bright from the illumination of the screen, you take in a picture of a young boy who bears a striking resemblance to Toji. His raven locks spiky and disheveled, his green eyes sharp and ethereal, and he wears a bored and calm expression just like his father. The chubbiness of his cheeks and innocence in his eyes tug at something in your chest; he can’t be any older than six years old. The sight of the boy makes you think of the many kids you take care of every day, and some of the frustration subsides within you.

“His name is Megumi,” he informs you, shy despite his rough exterior. He picks at the callous on the side of his thumb again, and one of his legs begins to shake in place.

The frustration dies down more. It’s a beautiful name, and as you look at the picture, a small smile tugs at your lips. You wonder what kind of a boy he is.

“Fuck listen—just I-I’m shit at this.”

You look up at him and take in the apprehension on his face. His lips are downturned in a gentle frown, the scar on the side of his face warped along with the muscles of his mouth. There’s a sense of shame in his gaze, and it somehow makes you feel relieved to know that he can feel just how upset you are.

“I don’t date women…I fuck them and stay around until they want me gone.” He doesn’t bother to sugarcoat his words. They shoot out of his mouth, piercing your skin with their directness. It’s a little painful, and you struggle to absorb his blatant honesty, feeling flashes of anger and indignation fill your chest as your lips part, ready to respond with directness of your own. “But you’re the first woman in a long fucking time that’s made me want more. So just…” he trails off, stuttering over what to say before ultimately growling low in his throat into silence.

You hesitate, lips flinching and syllables of fury dissipating in the small space between your top and bottom lip. “You gonna let me meet him?” you snap because you’re still mildly irritated as you give him his phone and pinch the muscle of his bicep with a harshness that reflects your fading anger and your desire to see him squirm for his actions.

He swats your hand away as if you’re a pest, moving his arm from you with a sneer that holds no malice. “No let me just lock him in my closet every time I want to see you—of course, I’ll fucking let you meet him.”

You throw him a withering glare, ignoring his sarcasm, and the smirk that slides onto his lips only makes you want to either smack or kiss him. The fact that you can’t decide on which only annoys you more.

*** Toji ***

“Gimme two hot dogs and a pretzel,” Toji mutters to the concession stand attendant. It’s halftime, and the walkways behind the stands are crowded with fans hurrying to go to the bathroom, or for more food and alcohol. You stand close to him, a welcome warmth that he wants more of but refuses to ask for on the off chance you deny him. He doesn’t feel like pouting for the rest of the day.

“And what’ll it be for the lady?” the attendant asks with a level of humor that is off-putting, a smile on his face that Toji knows you itch to smack off.

“It is for the lady,” you correct, a hint of condescension falling from plush lips that you still won’t let him taste. The attendant sputters, his face red as a tomato as he takes the rest of Toji’s order, doing his best to ignore the deadly glare you shoot him as he counts Toji’s money. A snort rattles from Toji’s chest as he watches you. He’s known from the beginning that you’re fiery, but seeing it firsthand fascinates and arouses him at the same time.

This environment is different for him, odd in every way, and a foreign ground that he’s unsteady on. The celebratory atmosphere reminds him of the loud laughter and fireworks from festivals that he could hear outside the Zenin compound throughout the year. He thinks of the Tanabata festivals he never got to experience or the years of Hanami that he was forbidden to enjoy. He could only take a small bit of pleasure in cherry blossoms in the Zenin gardens, blooming and scattering their petals on the well-kept grass to mark the beginning of the season. As a child, he was never allowed much. He was seen as ‘inferior trash’ that was insignificant and unworthy to be looked at let alone talked to unless it was to yell or belittle. Naturally, his family didn’t want others to see where said trash came from if they could help it.

He can’t think about it right now—he won’t. The thought of his family brings a tight coil of pain and anger in his chest, a coil he had used as fuel to cope with his dangerous decisions.

There’s so much more that he needs to focus on, like the fact that you’ve already taken a big bite out of one of your hot dogs. Half of it has disappeared from your hand, and there’s ketchup on the edge of your mouth as you chew. He notices the way you shift your hips from side to side in your seat, and the satisfied hum that escapes your throat. You’re satisfied, and while you eat with manners, you don’t hide your boisterous enjoyment, finishing one hot dog and moving on to the next, your pretzel wedged between the meat of your seductive thighs.

He’s been trying to be respectful all day ever since you denied him a kiss in the kitchen, but you’re tempting him. When you answered the door earlier in the afternoon, the hand that was in his pocket pinched the side of his thigh until the shameless thoughts could fade away.

You’ve graced his presence with shorts and a jersey, a yellow and black number that lays against your chocolate skin in a way that still seems to make you glow in the setting sun. No braids this time, your natural curls have fallen from your bun after screaming so much, framing your face and causing your gold hoops to wink at him. You didn’t wear makeup that night when he met you, so the sight of eyeliner on you today, and the way it accentuates the curve of your eye and the heaviness of your long lashes, it makes him shift in his seat.

He’s had to clench his jaw and bear the pain of his teeth grinding against each other to stop himself from ogling at the mouth-watering canvas of your legs. You’re all curves with dimples at the bottom of your thighs when you sit, and his gums ache to sink into the flesh so you can squeal and beg for him to touch you where you want it most. It’s been weeks since that night and he’s feigning for more. When you smile at him or shoot him a glare, it reminds him of that commanding aura you had in the backseat of your truck, and the back of his neck prickles with sweat.

While the thought of you skinning him alive if he decides to be a Neanderthal turns him on, he wants to be civil. In your kitchen earlier today, you allowed him to get close enough to feel the heat radiating from your skin, to catch the scent of coconut from your curls, tantalizing his senses until your firm ‘no’ sobered him up immediately. It was a stark reminder of who you are, and how little you tolerate.

He'll behave.

His eyes catch you guzzling down five heaping gulps of your beer, the foam coating your upper lip. You wipe it away with your finger, sucking the digit into your mouth, and popping it out completely oblivious to how sinful you look and Toji’s catapulted into that day when you sucked your own cum off his fingers.

He has to behave.

The vibration of his phone in his pocket sours his mood immediately, turning his gaze from your form as he digs into his pocket. It’s the third time it’s buzzed today, and he knows who it is. No matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he can only put off his job for so long.

Unknown: Good job on the assignment last week. 

Unknown: Your pay should be in your account by tonight.

Unknown: There’s another contract for you if you’re interested. Message me back and I’ll send you details.

“Everything okay?” Your voice pulls him from his phone, and he meets your curious gaze, one of your elegant eyebrows lifting in question as you assess him. “Something with work?”

“Yea,” he replies and regrets it immediately.

Lie #1

It’s not a complete lie—it is work—but the details…

Toji takes a long swig of his beer, attempting to soothe the shame that washes over him.

You really are a screamer.

Toji sits back in his seat, watching you with a wicked smile as you unleash a torrent of colorful language that makes his cock twitch. Even though you roar with the crowd, your voice rises higher.

“That’s a fucking flag! I should come down there and officiate for you instead you stupid piece of shit!”

Your curls brush the skin of your cheeks that puff in your frustration, your arms folding across your chest as you cock your hip and growl beneath your breath. You’re easily the loudest one in this section of the stands. Rene revels in it, egging you on by rooting for the opposite team and giggling when you bark at her. Shiu is content to watch the display, a fresh toothpick in his mouth and an arm over Rene’s shoulders as he idly twirls a lock of hair at her nape. You’re all yelling and sputtering indignation as you watch the game unfold, your team losing by what Toji has learned is a touchdown.

He knew this side of you was there. He could tell in the weight of your gaze that night. It's a side of you that he did not expect to see so soon. He soaks it in. He takes in the way you cuss out the man three rows down who won’t stop glaring at you. He absorbs how high-pitched the screech of your voice makes his eardrums shake, and he revels in the smile that forms on your lips when your team scores the game-winning touchdown.

When there are lulls in the game, you tell him about your career. You’re a pulmonary pediatric fellow at a hospital here in town that’s only a year and a half from completing your fellowship. You smile when you talk about the kids you take care of and your associates at work. You’re proud of your research and of how far you’ve come.

All of it, every part of you that you show him, is comforting. Warm despite how cold you appear. It’s a comfort he didn’t imagine having…ever in his life—especially a dreary life like his. But he soaks up this—you—as much as he can.

When the game is over, you’re elated and giggling, tucked into his side as he guides you through the drunken crowd. The moon is high in the sky, and it bathes your skin and makes you stand out in the crowd. You look up at him, smiling softly with a buzzed gaze that’s two beers deep.

“Did you have fun? Not bad for your first American game?”

“You screamed the entire time,” he teases, chuckling at the way you gape up at him and then sneer before turning away. He throws his arm around your shoulders, using the touch as a safe territory to keep his hands to himself, and pulls you closer.

You demand cotton candy which he indulges in as well before you both part ways with Rene and Shiu. The journey back to your apartment is a quiet one. As Toji drives, the warm July air fills the car, mingling with the faint strains of classic rock playing on the radio. Toji watches with flickering glances as you hum along, your eyes closed and the breeze wafting through your curls loose around your shoulders.

Something inside of him rattles. Whatever it is, it’s long-forgotten and buried deep within him, surrounded by cobwebs and dust that have accumulated over time since that dark day years ago.

*** You ***

From the short journey of his car to inside of your apartment, you repeat to yourself that you have to take this slow, for your own peace of mind.

You keep the most intimate parts of yourself locked away and only those who are worthy of you have a copy of the key. But somehow, and in such a short time, Toji has stolen a copy for himself and slotted the key into the door. But thankfully, the door is caught against the wall, hinges rusted over and ungiving.

You have to know more about him before you let him in to look at those parts of you. If you jump the gun and give him more so soon and end up hurt, it will throw you into a depth of pain that you promised yourself to never touch again if you could help it.

“You have a good time?”

Toji’s voice breaks the silence, his arms folding tightly across his chest, betraying the restlessness in his hands. His messy black locks, tousled by the late July humidity, partially hide his emerald gaze, which flickers briefly to meet your own before darting away.

Your socked feet pad across the hardwood floor, closing the space between you, and your head slowly tilts to look at him. Despite his façade of composure, his scar curves against his lips in a slight twist, twitching as he tries not to frown. Thin eyebrows pitch down in frustration, and you catch the way his fingertips drum against the skin of his biceps. He’s fidgety—nervous. Is he upset with himself? Ashamed that he couldn’t take you out on a proper date with dinner and a movie like everyone else expects?

Hopefully, he will learn that you go against the grain of proper in so many ways.

“I had a great time,” you confess softly, noticing the subtle relaxation in his stance at your words. The thrumming of his fingers stop, the tension in his shoulder fades. “You wanted to take me out and I let you. That all you want from me?”

He’s such an expressive man.

His face twists, perturbed by your bluntness and the prospect of delving into emotional territory. “I told you already that I want more.”

His declaration sends a fluttering through your heart that is reminiscent of the feeling you had when he surprised you with a slice of yellow cake. It’s comforting, and you want to lean into it. But it’s not enough to overwhelm you. You’re still in your right mind and still aware of your expectations even though he captivates you.

You press your finger into the firmness of his chest, hard so that the muscle pillows around your digit. The gaze you shoot up at him is unyielding, serious, and menacing enough that he straightens his spine just a little.

“Listen to me, because I’m only going to say this one more time. I don’t do situationships. I don’t do friends with benefits or the occasional hookup. I’m not saying things need to be serious with us but…you need to show me that you mean it.”

As you speak, you assess Toji, who shows no signs of amusement or ignorance. His posture is rigid, his back ramrod straight, and his deep green gaze locked onto yours.

“That night we had was great. I won’t deny that but…I won’t compromise my expectations and I don’t tolerate bullshit. I’m not going to let you fuck me just because we did it before. You want more? I want you to try. Earn me.”

You relish in the way his eyes widen, contemplating your words and the severity beneath them before his face smooths back into its usual cool demeanor. He unfolds his arms from his chest, and you curse inwardly at the way you immediately watch his shirt stretch across defined pectorals.

“You know you’re a feisty little thing.”

Heat from the way he speaks and annoyance at his lack of attention flare within you like wildfire. You open your mouth to yell, to bark at him to be serious, but the sound of his laughter extinguishes that fire inside of you instantly.

He doesn’t offer an apology for his comment and you don’t need one. You know you’re feisty and steadfast. It’s the only way you can function around men to survive, to stay afloat and still have a grasp of who you are. And if Toji couldn’t handle it, you definitely wouldn’t have slept with him or entertained a date that you thoroughly enjoyed.

“I’ll try,” he finally offers, voice soft but filled with conviction. Normally the small remark would offend you, but surprisingly coming from Toji, it’s enough.

Observing his behavior today and a little bit two weeks ago, you note his acceptance of your quirks and individuality—at least the bits you allow him to see. He marveled at the amount of food you ate and joined alongside you. He let you babble to him about every single player on your favorite team and how many championships they had won. He let you display your strength in your voice and personality, didn’t try to control or overshadow you like so many other past experiences you’ve had before learning how to rule the men in your life.

He let you be yourself.

And that thought makes you finally open your mouth to give him something he had asked for earlier, something you had previously denied despite your own desires.

“You can have your kiss,” you offer with a shrug, feigning nonchalance even though your heart picks up in speed as the implication registers on his face. “So you better do it right.”

It’s an invitation that he snatches away from your imaginary hands and tears open with thick fingers, greedy and growling with finality.

His sharp gaze traces the contours of your body, unabashed in its appraisal, leering at the pieces of skin visible to him. You know he’s been looking at you all day, but his observation now is intense, heavy and without reservation and you’re fumbling from the sudden rush of longing that pumps hot through your veins.

Toji inches closer, your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, his towering presence overwhelming your small stature. His height ignites an evolutionary desire in you that makes your mouth water, makes your cunt pulse with need beckoning for him to fill the mold he left inside two weeks ago. You’re still not used to climbing up the summit of him, so the air is thin once more, pulling the oxygen from your lungs and stuttering in your chest when a large hand cups the side of your neck and tilts your face up to him like an offering.

When his lips slide against yours, your fingers in his shirt tighten. His touch singes the ends of your nerves, boils the blood in your veins that pump fast throughout your body. Your skin is burning, searing when muscular arms hoist you up and wrap your legs around his thick waist before your ass is sliding on the cold marble of your kitchen counter, your lips still sealed against his.

There’s so much of this that feels like that night at your uncle’s. So much and yet not enough.

He drowns you with his touch, digs his fingers into the plump flesh of your thighs before yanking you, hard and with unforgiving impatience, closer to his body. The fabric of your jeans rubs too harsh against your wet panties, digs against the sensitivity of your clit and you repress the insatiable yearning to roll your hips against his.

Toji’s large hands slide up your body, traversing the mesh of your jersey that hugs you before cupping each side of your face again to tilt you sharper in the way he wants. Blue raspberry from the cotton candy you both indulged in after the game coats his tongue that licks your bottom lip in a silent request for entrance, and you grant him access, surrendering a whimper into his mouth as his tongue slides sinfully against yours. Tastebuds kiss your own, slide against them with whispered promise of satisfaction if you just relax and melt further into him. Just a little.

But you can’t, god you can’t.

You’re losing control and you have to stay strong. You have to stay above the waters of logical thinking even though you’re sinking with every stroke of his tongue, with every sweet, hot breath into your mouth, with every inch of flesh that your fingers dig into his chest because you need more. More than a kiss, more than what he’s offering, and you know he can give it to you. Toji can pull you into the inferno he’s raging inside of your body until your clothes are scorched off and his skin is sliding against yours sweaty, sticky, and undulating with every roll of his hips.

But he doesn’t give you more. He doesn’t pull you further into that fire.

The intensity of his kiss dies down slowly, his lips pulling away from yours with a wet smack as you pant along with him. Toji kisses your lips once, then twice, nips your bottom lip to seal everything he’s given before smirking down at you. Too devilish and arrogant and you don’t have a working brain cell in your head right now to correct him. His hands that cradle your cheeks slide down to your upper arms, giving them a gentle squeeze before he speaks.

“You still gonna let me be nice to you?”

His words are an echo of that night, his own way of telling you that he’s here. That he wants more—that he wants to give you more. You just have to let him.

With your head still swimming and the pulsing between your legs refusing to calm, you want him to be more than nice right now. But remembering the boundaries you have set, you nod instead and sigh into him when he kisses you one last time, sweeping his blue raspberry-flavored tongue against yours before pulling away, acting as though it’s nothing, as though you’re not sweaty at the small of your back and trembling with desire.

“Lock the door for me,” he commands, words devoid of a questioning tone, but filled with a sense of security and protection that you lean into.

“O-okay,” you manage to breathe, your heart slowing back into sinus rhythm, only to jump again as he places one final kiss on your lips, then your nose. You frantically bat him away before you lose consciousness, because any more and you’ll drag him into your room and disregard everything you said five minutes ago.

 You watch him saunter away, pull his keys from his pocket, and twirl them in his hand before winking. “I’ll text you.”

It sounds so ridiculous coming from his lips, from a grown man who looks as if he doesn’t even know what a cellphone is, let alone a text message.

But it still makes your heart jump all the same.

You can only nod in response because your throat is too dry and heavy in the back of your throat with each swallow you take. You follow him to the door and roll your eyes at his annoying smirk before he closes the door behind him, casting your apartment into silence.

Your fingers wobble as they turn the locks of your door into place. You’re lightheaded, brain flitting through salacious memories of what you both did weeks ago and what you could easily be doing now.

You throw your back against the door and sag to the floor with an annoyed sigh.

*** Toji ***

Unknown: There’s another contract for you if you’re interested. Message me back and I’ll send you details.

Toji: I’m interested. Send me what you have.

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 3 fanart}

“Well, take it. Just in case.” You whispered. Noticing how close he had gotten in an attempt to hand the jar to you. He was close enough to smell the way the olive leaves had permeated his clothing. The perfume of the freshly chopped wood stained his skin in a heady way. You felt the counter dig into your hips, having unconsciously backed into it beside the deep sink. “In case of what, sweetheart?” He lowered his voice to a raspy whisper, tongue peeking between his lips as he took in the way you had a smudge of dirt under your eye in the warm light of your kitchen bleeding into the backroom. His gaze snapped to his hand as you bravely tangled your fingers with his own. Feeling your lips curl into a playful smile, you leaned up and whispered into his ear. “The food critic decides to play personal chef.” Oh, he liked that. If the widening of his pupils was any indication, the way his breath caught in his throat and he swallowed as he pulled back a little to look over your face.

lovely, amazing piece done of my sweethearts olive and joel from my jackson fic {by the grit of sandpaper} by the ever talented and sweet @kenobiwanx a dream to work with and so excited to bring wonderful moment alive for me, will be forever grateful for the opportunity to have made their acquaintance in this corner of the internet 🖤 (there is no official description of olive in the fic! she is a part of me and her appearance depicted here is loosely based of me bc i’m delulu)

[polarolds]

hiii i js wanna know if you have any ellabs fic recommendations?

hi anon! hoo boy i definitely have a few! here are some favourites that come to mind:

Unbroken by thedreadslayer

nobody is surprised, yall know i'm a slut for this fic as i've drawn fanart for it multiple times (and still have doodles and full ass comic pages that i haven't shared to tumblr).

This is THE ellabs fic in my mind. The character moments, the dialogue, the settings, the atmosphere... the slowburn is SO well-written. it is basically tlou 3 for me because reading it really captures the feeling of playing the actual games 😭😭 still ongoing but so many chapters to enjoy. There are SO many great key moments (don't want to spoil, but i'm looking at you chapters 10, 17, 21 and 26), but even the small, quiet interactions stand out to me. have admittedly re-read it more than once,,, maybe more than twice,,,

two hands digging in each other's wounds by michirukaioh

i believe this was the first ellabs fic i've read!! and it is a classic. Love this one for the progression of the ellabs relationship, but also for dear sweet lev and his interactions with ellie. Love the big reveals towards the end of the story with a new character that is introduced - keeping it vague because of spoilers. And the beach scene near the end is chef's kiss iykyk.

i've admittedly not been keeping up well with the sequel because i've been super busy and wanted to marathon the whole thing at some point, but would recommend checking it out too! both parts are complete :)

The Way Sorrow Tastes by painted__black

really interesting premise where abby and lev show up in Jackson at the start of the story and we see how all the survivors of tlou2 deal with the fallout. the continuation of the use of abby's dreams as a manifestation of her trauma/guilt was also interesting to me. starts pretty dark and gets even darker as we move further in the story, but still very good all the same. sadly idk if the story will be continued :( one can hope

oh, and I drew something for this one too! hehe

tail lights by junewax

another goodie and i loved how Cat (a character only mentioned in tlou2) comes into play in this story. i really like the feel and atmosphere of this story idk how else to describe it - it just captures a certain vibe that i really dug yknow? completed fic.

Both Sides Now by Fuckingvideogames

AU where ellie leaves Jackson after finding out the truth about the FireFlies from Joel and stumbles into Seattle. i LOVE this concept so much and this was such an interesting read. we get some nice early ellabs moments, and also get to see ellie interact with the Salt Lake Crew. sadly another fic which i don't think will be finished, but very much still worth checking out!!

and since this post is getting kind of long, here are links to some other fics i really enjoyed!

iron to the core by houndstoothed

bone chill by houndstoothed

Afterlife by maharetr

Assumptions by inspoburst

hope you find something you like fellow ellabs-enjoying anon! :'D and thanks for the ask <3

[andiftheycare]

hello, do you have any fav stsg fics?

Hi anon!

I do indeed - even if I don't read as much ff as I'd like (my "to read" on AO3 gets bigger by the day) since I do tons of reading for work.

So I'm twisting this a bit and leaving below some fics I recently read and loved, and some of my highly-anticipated to read. Hope it works!

Current Favourites

Caesura by @cielelyse - Mature, 85.5k, multichapter, Complete This comes highly recommended in the fandom, and for a reasons. Rarely I read something so stunningly written and IC -- their teen Gojo is my favourite Gojo in the fandom, and the way she manages to mix character development & interactions with plot and romantic tension is chef's kiss. The narrative structure and use of language are stellar, too, often using interesting and unexpected turn of phrases. I think I devoured this in two sittings, and had to force myself to stop reading it. Fic is marked Mature for canon-typical violence rather than sex.

a spin around the rumor mill by ilovegetosuguru - General Audiences, 5K, Oneshot, Complete. The fist fic I read in this fandom, even before getting to ship stsg. This contains an unhealthy amount of fluff, great multi-characters characterisation, and speaks too well to anyone who went to uni and had to battle a shitty teacher. Nobara, in particular, is the gem that made me bookmark this. It's a one shot so it reads super quickly. Also sense of humor 10+++

Coanda Effect by @bunnieshoneys - Mature, 200k+, Multichapters, ongoing (22/24) Coanda Effect is a well loved ff and for a reason. I started it because I saw some great fanarts on Tiktok, despite the fact that was 100k+ at the time and I usually run away from fics that are already long. But the premise was great, and I thought why not. I proceeded to binge this in two weeks whilist losing my tube stop multiple times. What Coanda Effect really does -- that is addicting, really -- is beautifully lying down a spokon. You really care about the races. You start to understand how F1 works. And you find yourself having your favourite teams, too. It's also a compelling character study of Gojo and Geto, and I love that the author doesn't shy away in displaying their most unhealthy & complex traits, without oversimplifying their complexities. I read up to chapter 16, so I have a lots to catch up to, but I'd still highly recommend a read.

5 Times Gojo Satoru Tries to Rizz Up Geto Suguru and 1 Time He (Kind Of) Succeeds by seonghwaffles - Teen+, 16k, Multichapter, Complete Such a fun ride! This is perfect if you want anything with a very stupid, wipped Satoru, where everything he does goes wrong in the most improbable ways. Quick to read too!

Highly-Anticipated

Over the Threshold by @fushiglow -- Mature, 80k+, Multichapter, ongoing Idol AU featuring kpop idol Gojo and producer Geto. I know zero about this, but I quite like kpop and I find the industry fascinating (although brutal). I think the setting is up for some intresting dynamics, so I can't wait to dig into this one.

Cannibalization of the Apex by CharmPoint - Mature, 55k, multichapter, complete Fic where Gojo dies during the hidden inventory arc, comes back as a curse and is absorbed by Geto. The premise is just right up my street, I'm just waiting to be in the right state of mind to give this a read.

Hope this answers it anon!

[mickstart]

Re your last headcanon ask: I ABSOLUTELY think we get an unfair balance of jealous Aventurine as compared to Ratio. Do you have any thoughts on how Ratio's jealousy/possessiveness would manifest? Aventurine-centric again, but I love in fanfic/fanart when he's being all over the top friendly to Ratio and then sends whoever Ratio was talking to The Death Glare™. Real gap moe.

I also love when jealousy is the thing that makes them realize "oh Shit I think I care about him more than the average coworker amount"

Okay I think. The thing about Ratio is he's so resigned to his own isolation that he probably doesn't usually GET jealous bc he's just like "of course people want to spend time with others over me. they always do. I don't care." and I think it would be a pretty new feeling to him. He'd beat himself up a LOT for getting possessive because he'd be so annoyed at how irrational it is. So his possessiveness would probably be more lowkey than Aventurine's.

I think pre-relationship he sits there and silently seethes watching aventurine flirt and YES that would probably be the thing that makes him realise he likes him a little too much. Just imagine Ratio on the sidelines watching Aventurine show a little shoulder at a bar, distracting someone he's about to fleece, and he's just hit by this competely irrational emotion he has NO idea what to do with. All he knows is he wants to march over there and throw the mark out the window.

But in a relationship he'd know that was a Tactic aventurine uses, and I think he'd kind of get off on the "Aventurine is playing all these people they don't know he's only interested in ME" (Top 50 ratio ego moments) In fact it might be a tactic of theirs on missions, to have Aventurine seduce someone and then have Ratio show up like "hello darling. mwah." and Aventurine introduces him as his Husband. (They are not married.) It makes the mark uncomfortable and also makes them feel like they can confide in Aventurine because they Share A Secret with him.

(And maybe Ratio Thoroughly Enjoys kissing Aventurine in front of them to make a Statement, and Later, Alone, reminding Aventurine who he's always going to go home with.)

Sorry another cut, I rambled again but way more this time.

I think it's easy to enter more complicated territory with Ratio's possessiveness, with Aventurine's past being what it is. It would be important that what Ratio feels possessive of isn't Aventurine, but Aventurine's feelings and attention. When Ratio is jealous he's usually doing something to get Aventurine's attention back on him. But - traumatised king that he is - Aventurine ASKS for marks and growly, frustrated possessiveness. He taunts Ratio. Asks him to "claim me", that type of shit. Asks if Ratio will buy him a collar to replace the one he wears for the IPC. Asks if Ratio would wear his collar instead, with Aventurine's address on his nametag, instead of asking him to move in like a sane person.

(Sorry my "Aventurine takes his trauma and regains power over it by sexualising it on HIS terms" agenda is so strong.)

Ratio says he's just going along with Aventurine's kinks to let him work through shit in a safe environment, but he's definitely into having Aventurine whine that he's His, or dig his nails into his hips and tell him he's HIS. He's never really been Wanted like this, enough that Aventurine covers him with bites that make him feel warm whenever he sees them, and he's never Wanted anyone else like this. It's a thrill, even if it is humiliating that Aventurine reduces him to animalistic urges. (And even more humiliating that he's then into Aventurine making fun of him for that.)

And then he buys Aventurine a necklace with his little owl eye symbol on it, and Aventurine wears that Everywhere.

.... and buys Ratio a collar with a small aventurine stone attached instead of a nametag.

[fumifooms]

Your post about falin manifested some Thoughts in me. Seeing how such a big part of her arc was becoming more independent and discovering what She wants to do, mixed with a lot of parts in the manga where she is much more comfortable looking masculine - embarrassed about how blushy she is but not really liking makeup, enjoying more masculine clothes, that one haircut swap where she seemed really happy in laios' cut, it made me realize there's totally some room for even some transmasc falin headcanons! Or at the very least, she's definitely GNC and it would be fun to see that explored in fanfic and fanart... anyway, your in depth analysis posts have really inspired me, got me itching to create some obscure dunmeshi fancontent or analysis now!

Omg…… I’ve never fully thought about it but you’re so right transmasc Falin would go so hard… There’s also how she idolizes Laios a lot… Male older brother role model she puts on a pedestral, could play into her relationship with it. Because of the dragon I like to see her as intersex, including post-canon but beyond that I always saw her as being the more or less agender type that just goes with whatever she feels fits her better, the sort of cis by default for lack of caring about it all that much, not unlike how I consider Laios cis by default but if you dig deep enough there’s otherkin stuff going on in there… Def agree with GNC Falin.

She and Toshiro have some interesting parallels, of being passive and suppressing themselves for the convenience of others, it’s a reason why seeing her being unabashedly entranced by a bug struck him so much— himself being a bug fan and polishing his demeanor to be perfectly respectable. Because of that and including specific details like getting told "boys don’t cry" by Hien- Actually just let me link this excellent post about trans Toshiro. Transfem Toshiro is so compelling and I think pairing it with transmasc Falin would be very interesting… The gender envy of it all, the talks… Need them to go on a trip together post-canon so so bad, life changing self-discovery camping trip

I’ll be munching on this... I love it. Your reblog tags have been a delight, I’m so happy I could inspire you in any way! So looking forward to what you might make in the future

[imperator-titus]

Some personal Astarion headcanons because I'm bored.

Some are rooted in my experience as a player or digging in the files, some might be from other player discussions, and others are purely made up. I don't take any of it seriously

Astarion is not ORIGINALLY from Baldur's Gate. Where is he from? idk. I don't know that much about Forgotten Realms/DnD. But I think Cazador is too smart and paranoid to not vet his potential spawn, if they were Baldurian they'd have to be "forgettable" and it seems unlikely anyone in the Gate is forgetting Astarion. I think it was smart for them to nix the Noble background for Astarion because of this, although he could be a noble from somewhere outside of the Sword Coast.

That being said, Cazador compelled Astarion to forget everything about himself from before he was a spawn, so to spawn Astarion, he IS Baldurian and after 200+ years, he blends right in.

Astarion came to the Gate as a fresh-faced adventurer rogue, which explains... being a rogue. Why? I don't have a real why, I've considered everything from "rebelling/getting away from his family" to "for fun, maybe his family is full of retired adventurers"

"I was a magistrate" was one of many stories to lure victims. Even if he was for even a brief time, I don't think he'd remember that. also possible Cazador told him that.

Astarion may not have been the only one luring people back with sex but I think he learned it was the most effective way. When you're getting tortured for failure, it doesn't matter if success turns your stomach.

Cazador carefully seduced Astarion, but not with the promise of eternal life. His resemblance to Vellioth caught Cazador's attention. Cazador lured him with promises of patronage or just good ole "rich powerful man wants me?" energy. Cazador attacked Astarion himself and sold him a lie that Gur (easy to blame, as they are widely disliked and considered barbaric) attacked him.

The graveyard Astarion was buried in is small and has a mix of noble mausoleums and paupers' graves. Likely Cazador had enough sway and money, through a intermediary ("oh, the poor boy, Lord Cazador hired him for tasks and he did so well, what a tragedy"), to get Astarion an expedited burial with no questions (seeing as anyone with eyes can see he's got 2 big bite marks in his neck). Astarion says he's never been there since he came out the first time, but I believe Cazador has put him back in there on occasion as punishment (along with putting him in a proper tomb, possibly borrowed from the Hhunes), he just represses it. That's why Cazador keeps the plot and headstone, to torture him, but it remains overgrown.

Astarion's original hair color is silver, but it was a bit more lustrous, and his skin was already fairly pale but now it doesn't have the glow of life/blood (and they should have picked a paler skin tone, but it is what it is). I know that this would probably make him a Moon Elf, who commonly have blue or green eyes, and while I love me some vibrant blue or green eyes... I am a "golden brown" fan, sorry. They looked dark while in the shade and turn golden when hit by the light. I really enjoy the brown hair/brown eyes fanart and edits though, good job everyone

They say vampires feel only hunger. They are paranoid, loveless, and cruel. They believe they are superior to all living creatures, even the spawn. In a fucked up weird way, Cazador really did love Astarion and his spawn (but especially Astarion) and believe they were like family. The Szarrs were a vampiric family in blood and... well, more blood. Cazador took out his hate and twisted love for his master Vellioth on Astarion. Cazador hated that Astarion constantly wriggled out of his grasp, testing him. Sometimes Astarion would play along just to get Cazador to cool off, but Cazador would find out it was a lie and punish him harder for "breaking his heart."

Astarion is THE MOST self-interested person in the party and it's perfect that he is. He is paranoid, hungry, cruel, and superior. He needs to get back as SOON as possible to Baldur's Gate because Cazador will probably scalp him and hammer bamboo shoots under his fingernails for disappearing. Then he realizes that he could feasibly BEAT Cazador and the sooner it happens, the better. Stop helping orphans, I need to get home, tick-tock! He also has no foresight, even though that would be a GREAT trait for a fucking ROGUE. He wants you to stop helping and saving people even though they will help you in the future because he projects his own personality on others: they're selfish and won't do shit for you.

I could probably go on forever but I've forgotten some things at this point. I'm supposed to be doing math right now.

[mcytblrconfessions-but-badder]

I can’t stop thinking about this one post who claims that in the last few years the most popular hermits are the ones on the life series, if you’re not in the life series good luck having solo fanart or fics. And they’re right.

False’s popularity has been steady especially due to her domination in mcc and joining empires season 2 but art of her season in hermitcraft? Rare. Especially if it’s solo art cause I’ve seen a lot of False with another hermitcraft such as Ren or Pearl or Gem. She just doesn’t seem to be around as much in the tumblr tags compared to three years ago.

A while back I checked the hermitcraft sub reddit for their top posts, a lot was season 6/7 and there is so much fanart of Keralis, Iskall, Stress and xB! Not just them with other people but solo art! Yes I can still find that here on tumblr but it involves me digging through tags. And boy if you look at the notes compared to a recent solo Grian or solo Scar art it’s nothing. Now you can argue that it’s based on how much they upload but xB uploads regularly and there’s not a lot of hermit fanart compared to him and Grian and the later uploads way less! He has nearly twice the amount of hermitcraft videos as Grian and the motherfucking British man hasn’t uploaded a hermitcraft episode since early September!

But yet I see more hermitcraft fanart of Grian in the last month than xB. I get it because of subscriber count but come on people, xB is more active but nope, bird beats fish.

And like Rendog I would say has constant fanart but when he wasn’t acting as the king on hermitcraft, the time between double and wild life Ren fanart was going down. It was still a lot but because he wasn’t in the life series and slowed down on hermitcraft videos due to real life stuff the art went down.

But if you join the life series then expect twice the amount of love. Gem joins, she then joins a base area that has life series players in and suddenly she skyrockets to be one of the favourite hermits. Ignore that Joe hills or StressMonster has been here for so long, Gem joined the life series therefore she has to be a fan fav.

“Oh but Doc is still popular! Same as Cub!” That’s because they regularly interact with life series players. Cub has Scar and now the permit office workers. He’s not out hanging with Keralis or Hypno a lot like xB. Doc kind of keeps to himself and interacts with nearly everyone but if there’s a storyline it’s gonna be with a life series member. Joe hill is only midly popular due to the mcytblr sexyman comp and his long time friendship with Cleo, another life series member. You don’t see fanart of him with Welsknight or Iskall.

And fucking Iskall man… I saw so much love for him for season 6 and 7 but the moment he had burn out or want making as much content with Mumbo and Grian he just kind of disappeared in fanart and fics. You’re gonna have an angst fic with Grian and only Scar or Mumbo can help him? Dude was so buddy buddy with Iskall where is he?

And lastly when it comes to season 10 of hermitcraft if you’re not part of the Cherry guys or the post office in regard to bases, you’re not getting any attention. Where’s the love for xB’s new and improved ocean monument? You all love guardian!xB yet nothing on his season 10. Where’s the love for the village people? It has so many hermits together but oh there’s only two life series players and one of them hasn’t been in since double life so no love for them.

I’m just tired of the life series being so connected to hermitcraft because it affected the popularity so much…

That post can’t get out of my head because they’re right.

.