#waxing hasn't been working well)

[i-drop-art-in-your-asks]

We got

BABIES!

[fuctacles]

you guys are feral for silly wereshifter Steve AU and I love that

Some meatheads are calling Eddie names again. The dog that's been tailing him appears out of nowhere and makes eye contact with him as it struts over to the group and lifts his leg, pissing all over the fresh wax on their BMW with the determination and focus of a dog that hasn't been outside for the whole day.

"Hey, get your fucking dog off my car!" One of the guys jumps up, but the warning show of canines stops him from shooing the dog away himself.

Eddie shrugs, though he's restraining a smile.

"It's not mine."

Later the dog finds him again as it always does, and he makes amends.

"You are my dog though, right? My good doggie. Who's my good boy?" he asks, scratching the overjoyed dog all over its furry body.

At home, Steve asks Robin to call him a good boy when he shifts, to see if it feels as good. It doesn't. Well, it does, but not in the same way.

It comes to the point when dog Steve spends more time with Eddie than human Steve. To soak in the happiness and love Eddie shows him.

"Is Steve okay?" Eddie asks one day, petting the dog beside him while they take a break from band practice. The rest of Hellfire is hanging out in the garage, with Mike jumping on every opportunity to learn guitar from Jeff and the rest usually following.

"Yeah?" Dustin cocks his head. "Why wouldn't he be?"

"I don't know." Eddie shrugs. "Haven't seen him in a while and you're never mentioning him anymore."

Dustin looks at the dog.

"He's fine. You're overthinking it."

Eddie thinks that might be it, but...

"I know we're not friends-friends but I don't even see him in passing! Hell, Buckley is there to hang out, and he's not!"

Dustin throws his hands up in the air, annoyed with the questions.

"Don't ask me, man! Ask him yourself! And, to be honest," he crosses his arms, glaring at the dog, for some reason. "I don't understand what's going on with him either."

Eddie frowns, looks at the dog that huffs loudly, and looks away with a grunt. He pats its fluffy fur.

"How am I supposed to ask him if he's never here?" he sighs. "I don't want to just corner him at his place."

Dusting looks at him like he failed elementary two times, not high school.

"There's this thing called phones?"

"Oh. Right."

"Jesus it's like you'd die without me."

"Well..."

"Not what I meant!" Dustin goes pale instantly, mortified by his own words.

"I know, kid." Eddie pulls his head down in reassurance and leans into a side hug. "Don't worry."

-----

"He's not picking up," he tells the dog while biting at a hangnail. "Maybe he's at work?" He wonders out loud and goes to the magazine pile on the coffee table. The dog struts behind him. He rummages through the papers under its watchful eye until he finds the Family Video pamphlet. He runs back to the phone with it and dials the number on the back.

"Hi, I'm looking for Steve? Oh, hi Buckley. Do you know if he's home? Okay. Can you tell him to call me when he's free? No, I just wanted to ask him something. Thanks. Bye."

When he hangs up, he's alone in the room.

"Buddy?"

There's a bark from the front of the trailer.

"Sure, sorry!"

He runs up to open the door for the dog already waiting there. But before it leaves, it nuzzles up into his hand, the wet nose and hesitance to leave reassuring Eddie that he'll be back sooner or later. He smiles at the dog, giving him one last scratch between the ears.

"Such a good boy. See you later, buddy."

----

Steve calls him not even an hour later.

"Eddie?" He sounds out of breath.

"Steve, hi!" He's relieved to hear him and suddenly realizes he doesn't remember the last time they actually talked. "Has Buckley talked to you already?"

"No?"

"Dustin then?"

"No- ah, yeah! He's mentioned you wanted to talk."

He's a bit disappointed Steve hasn't thought to reach out himself but it's better than nothing.

"Yeah, I Haven't seen you in a while, man. What have you been up to?"

"Uh, you know, just... This and that. Doing a lot of... Running. Exercises. You know."

Eddie doesn't know, but he's willing to nod along to keep the conversation going.

"Yeah, totally, you've been busy. Do you want to hang out maybe? Movie night, or, or..." He tries to come up with anything they could do together. "I got a new strain of weed we could test?" He offers.

Steve laughs at that, genuine and relaxed and Eddie relaxes at the sound himself.

"Sure, why not? Is tonight alright? I have a day off anyway."

Eddie's not prepared mentally and neither is his room but he agrees immediately.

"Sure, come over anytime."

"Okay I'll take a shower and I'm off."

When they meet up, everything seems normal. For about fifteen minutes.

Steve jumps whenever Eddie touches him, and his face is red, making Eddie look at him worriedly and ask if he's alright.

But all Steve can think about is “good boy” and belly scratches. When his leg twitches when Eddie touches his shoulder, he jumps off the couch, mortified by his body's reactions.

"Do you have a dog?!" he almost yells, looking around in panic.

Eddie blinks at him.

"Uh, no?" But then he frowns. "I mean, there is a dog," he corrects, and his brows crease in worry. "Wait, are you allergic?"

"Yes!" Steve points his finger at him. "I gotta go, man, sorry, I'm itching all over," he spits out fast, walking backward toward the exit and almost running into a wall. "But it was great seeing you, uh, bye!"

The doors slam shut and Eddie's left alone and confused, the reality show host still yelling from the screen.

[changisworld]

Impact play with Jisung

Han Jisung x afab!reader

word count:2,454

18+, MDNI!! smut below the cut

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

fifth part of my 8 part masterlist of the extension of this & this headcanon of the members!!;3

Kinks & pleasures masterlist here main masterlist here

->SMUT WARNINGS: Subby jisung, dom reader, ball slapping, cock slapping, use of cock ring, edging, jisung is LEAKKYYY, so much drool, subspace, a few face slaps, degradation, edging, use of handcuffs, use of sex wax, begging, mention of safe word (but not used), finger sucking, reader is called 'mama' & 'miss', JISUNG COCK SQUIRTS cuz hehehe, reader is a meanie>:3

Jisung has obviously always been extremely into absolutely everything he can put his mind to, there is a very limited number of things he hasn't wanted to or hasn't already tried, most of it being with you, but somehow, the things you're doing right now, slipped both of your minds... until you did it on accident.

You've got Jisung handcuffed to the bedframe, arms on each side of his ears as you're straddling him, his naked cock hard against your inner thigh, not wanting to give him the small pleasure of having his cock pressed against your naked core because he would just start grinding against it & you can't be bothered with having to punish him because it takes so long to get the point across to his silly self.

You have him blindfolded & your worn panties are stuffed into his mouth as you're dripping the small remainder of the red wax onto his toned stomach, the honeyed skin getting red with the irritation of the heat of it as it drips onto him, his stomach lurching & him hissing through your lace panties, almost completely drool soaked by now.

"You're so good for me Sungie, is this gonna teach you to not try finger me while at dinner with your parents, hmm? Little perv." you purr to him & he instantly nods his head rapidly, his body squirming as the wax dries & you set the burnt out wick to the side, balancing on one knee to be able to reach.

As you do this however, when you try regain your balance on both knees, you misplace it & accidentally place all your weight on his balls & he lets out the highest screech you have ever heard leave his throat & you basically jump off him, reaching to pull the soaking fabric out of his mouth & moving the blindfold out of his face.

"Holy shit Sungie, are you okay?" you question, genuine worry in your voice as you look at his face, looking for a reaction, his poor big cheeks all red& his eyes slightly teary, the majority of them getting soaked up by the blindfold & his hands calming down from trying to break out from the handcuffs, his frame not spasming out from pain anymore.

He is flustered but doesn't speak, his 'words' just resulting in pathetic, embarrassed whimpers as his big glossy eyes stare at you. You take this as a negative response & you go to grab the small key to unlock his restraints when he puts his knees up, blocking you, & that's when you notice the wet patch on his stomach, his precum dripping into his pubes, making them sticky.

He rests his legs on either side of you, them spread as he has his feet planted on the floor & his cock twitches & he whimpers, half in nervousness but also half in shame & you know him well enough, especially when it comes to sex & you have no clue why he would be embarrassed about this, especially when you have done way more vulgar things.

"Did.. did you like that Sungie?" you question & he just whimpers, nibbling his spit covered bottom lip & he tries to hide his face in the side of his arm but your quick to lean over & grab his face by his pretty cheeks & you whip your hand off his left one, making his head sprint to look back up at you. "You not gonna talk, hmm?"

"Yes! L-like it." he stutters, his voice shaky & a small tear drips down his cheek & you chuckle before wiping it away with your thumb.

"Why are you crying, are you embarrassed? I never thought i'd see the day Sungie." you tease in a low voice as you pinch his cheek with your thumb & index finger, his eyes looking up at you with a glint in them.

"It is embarrassing! Do it again, p-please mama." he pleads, his voice high pitched as drool is falling from his mouth, making his chin shiny.

You smirk down at him as you pick up his now soaked with precum cock & squeeze your hand around it so tightly your knuckles turn a tiny bit white & Jisung scrunches his eyes as his legs, trying to shut them but can't because your leg is still placed between them & you pinch them as a non verbal way to tell him to stop what he is doing, & of course the good boy tries his best, not to much success but you let it slide.

You decide to spit down onto his cock, despite him clearly not needing it whatsoever & you jerk his poor, red, chubby cock in your clenched hand & the squeaks leaving his throat is unlike anything you've ever heard, high pitched 'aahhs!' & 'ahhngs!' filling more than just the bedroom at this point.

You continue this for only around thirty seconds before you stop jerking him but you keep holding onto him, but your other hand lands a harsh, quick slap to his cock head & he screams.

You bite your bottom lip, smirking at him as you land another two slaps to his cock, making sure to land on his tip, the ring on your index finger adding an extra sting.

"Y/- miss, balls, please! Kiss m-me" Jisung cries, arms pulling against the handcuffs holding him to the bed. You hum at his words, not verbally replying & you get off of him completely, letting go of his cock & you obviously watch his poor cock slap against his lower tummy, his cock so sensitive his own pubes irritating every part of it where they both make contact, his pubes completely soaked.

"Mama, cmon! Want you n-now!" he yelps to you, thrashing his legs around in distain as you plop yourself off the bed & open the bedside drawer & take out a small, black cock ring & as Jisung realises what you're holding, his eyes widen.

"Don't w-want that! want you!" he squeaks as you take your previous position, sitting on the backs of your legs, kneeling in between his open legs, Jisung having to move his feet that are planted to the bed to make enough space for you to comfortably sit there.

You grab at his member again & you give it another quick but harsh squeeze before you align the cock ring up with him & you roll it down his shaft & you squeeze it up, over & past his balls, it now resting just under his balls, the ring working instantly & the entire tightened skin completely red from the lack of blood flow, his balls looking almost ready to burst.

"Looks so painful Sungie, you're so weird for liking this, you know that?" you tease as you pinch at his balls, the skin getting even angrier, before you graze your nails down them, making his legs shake on either side of you, impossible for him to close them or push you away because of you sitting in the middle, much to your happiness.

"H-hurts, so sens-sensitive!" he cries out, his toes curling & his tongue lolling out his mouth, nibbling down on his now swollen bottom lip, his fully body tensing & clenching under your touches.

"You know the safe word if it's too much, tell me what it is baby, can you remember it?" you ask, trailing your fingertips up the underside of his base, the edge of your nails scratching his cock up & down, sending a stinging sensation through his body, his cock dribbling even more onto himself, but he pays no mind.

You reach forward & your hand connects with his face again & his eyes eventually focus on you, his pupils completely blown out, the entire bottom half of his face covered in his own spit because the poor thing just cannot keep his mouth closed for the life of him, his long black hair also now soggy from it.

"You not gonna talk? You poor little thing, are you still with me?" you speak up again, using the hand that isn't still causing his cock to jump & you pinch his tongue with your middle & index finger & pulling it a tiny bit before you shove the same fingers into his throat, fucking it with them & he sucks on them the best he can at the fast pace, gagging as your fingers go as deep as they can, spit escaping the outsides of his lips.

You pull your fingers out when Jisung is about to choke on his own drool & you wipe your fingers on his lips, if you didn't know better you'd say he had a really pretty lip gloss on.

"G'na cum, mis- Gonna c'm" he whimpers, his voice hoarse & his eyes just as glossy as his lips & you hum before leaning down & swirling your finger on the tip of his cock & you can tell by his body language that he is really pushing the edge & just before he is about to combust, you completely stop your actions & pull away.

Jisung cries at the loss of the touch, dying for absolutely anything, despite that the cock ring is so tight around him he thinks he could die, but he doesn't think about it for more than s second as he has to use all his brain power to actually listen to what you have to say.

"Anwer with words, Jisung." you remark, your voice sounding more serious & Jisung whimpers as his eyebrows furrow & he curls his head into his arm, trying to keep his brain switched on.

"Fluff! f-fluff to stop" he rasps, thrusting his hips upwards, trying to get you to keep going. "Wa-wanna cum mama, pu-pulease lemme" he begs, his eyes full of tears by this point.

"You think you can cum with a cock ring on? You really are a beg, you silly thing." you chuckle at him as you pick up his cock & you jerk him off as your fingers try fondle his balls despite them basically not being able to move before giving a small but venomous slap to them, making him hiss & groan each time you do so, Jisung tries his best to not thrust up into your hand, but he just cannot help it!

You can tell he is about to orgasm, despite him going non verbal by this point, & this is how you know he is in the fuzzy, warm feeling that is subspace & you can't help but feel proud that you've got him here, but you're also surprised he enjoys this so much to the point he's dropped this quickly.

The only sounds that are coming from him is small, more quiet 'mmhs', 'anghs' & you can swear you've heard a few 'mama's', 'y/nnie's' & 'more's' too & you would be lying if you said your cunt isn't quite literally dripping onto the bed sheets.

Jisung's angry, red balls pulsate visibly & not even a few seconds later, he cums ropes all over his tummy, the red wax now covered in a tiny white, sticky layer.

You look up at the poor boys face & his eyes are cross eyed at this point, barely even blinking, looking down at you, his tongue quite literally sticking out of his mouth.

You grind against the part of your leg that you're sitting on, trying to give yourself a small taste of anything since you know Jisung clearly won't be able to help you as you also decide that you wanna try push him more to the limit than you usually do, so you don't slow down.

You spit into your finger tips & you grab onto his slightly flaccid cock & you start fiddling & rubbing his tip at a rapid pace, massaging the few droplets of his own cum back into the skin of his tip along with your spit.

Jisung lurches forward as his eyes keep rolling backwards, his arms almost breaking the handcuffs with how much he is trying to move his hands to paw your own away, but to no result.

"You gonna do it for me Sungie? You gonna be my good boy, hmm? let go f'me" you purr to him, fondling his tip with four fingers & he just will not stop squeaking from overstimulation.

Jisung nods his head, gurgling out choked sobs & whimpers as his toes curl & his legs shut around you as much as they can, clenching so tight around you it hurts your arms & you would probably row at him for it but he has just been so good for you so you decide to allow him the small action.

"H-happening, t-too much" he squeaks & just as your brain processes what he just said, a small, almost completely clear stream spurts out his tip, soaking your fingers at the same time it sprays onto his honey skin & also onto the sheets beneath you.

Jisung is non stop squirming & almost folding in half as it finally stops, his entire body covered in his own sweat, his own drool, his own pre & cum, wax & now his own squirt.

You take a long look at him & you realise how fucked out he genuinely is, the poor chubby cheeked boy is broken by you & you feel beyond proud of yourself for getting him to this state, you know you need to get him cleaned up but you know he is even sensitive when in subspace & the last thing you wanna do is let him fall into sub drop so you decide to wriggle the black object that's torturing his cock by this point off of him before unlocking his handcuffs & his arms instantly flop on each side of him, his wrists now wrapped in a red ring from where the handcuffs have been digging into his skin throughout the scene.

You wriggle up beside him, his naked skin sticking to yours & you help manoeuvre him so he is lying in between your legs, his head resting on your chest as you play with his drenched hair as you wait for him to actually come back to you.

->Taglist is open! @jilixthinker

->Anon list is open!

[ccscocoapuffs]

Can you NSFW alphabet for Tama tonga? but if you don't write about him, Could you do the alphabet thing for Jey Uso?

Note: Absolutely! Here's the Jey Uso one first, I actually already had this one started, after this is posted the Tama Tanga one will be up next :)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Possibly the sweetest guy you'll ever meet when it comes to aftercare. He will get up to grab a rag to clean you off with and then leave little kisses all over you, before pulling you into his chest for some of the best damn snuggles in the world.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Jey loves your thighs, he loves when you sit next to him and he is able to reach over and just grab a handful of them. Jey has a rather different favorite body part on himself. His personal favorite is his mouth, it allows him to kiss you, talk to you, and of course taste you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) He loves when he has you ass up and then right as youre about to cum he pulls out and finishes on your back. "What's the matter, babygirl? You wanna cum? here let me get a taste of you and see if i wanna let you cum yet, princess"

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Jey really doesn't have alot of secrets, though if anything that he keeps to himself it's his jealousy. He is secretly very jealous of Roman, He doesn't like it when you're in the bloodlines room with all of them and Roman starts talking to you with that smooth talk of his. He's worried that Roman would take you from him, all though every member of the bloodline knows that you'd never even look in the same direction of another man if it meant losing Jey.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) He knows exactly what he is doing and he will tell you and show you that he does. "Yeah that feel good? I know what i'm doing babygirl, i know exactly where to fuck you"

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) He loves simple doggystyle. When he fucks you in doggystyle he will pull your hair till you hit his chest, smack your ass till it's red, and of course bite down on your shoulder to hear your cry out for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He 100% can be goofy with you, I'm willing to bet atleast once that he has thrown you onto the bed and said "YEET!". On days when he just wants to be so sweet with you and make you life, he will do some of the weirdest and wildest shit just to see you smile and laugh.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Jey has thick black curly hair that he keeps tidy but not tamed completely if that makes sense. It goes up a little higher when he hasn't tidied it in a bit because he usually has a happy trail that he keeps waxed for work.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) He can be very romantic, not just in the bedroom but in general. Jey is the type to just randomly have flowers for you and after his matches you're the first one that he goes to find win or lose, he just wants to find you and kiss you. Alot of that romantic aspect carries into the bedroom though I do feel as though Jey leans more to the very soft dom side because of this, if that makes sense.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Jey hardly ever maturbates, I just don't see him as really being the type. However if he's been away for a big event like wrestlemania or for something like summerslam, then he would probably call you on facetime if you didn't get to come with him for a little bit of over the phone mutual masturbation.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Slight Spanking Praise (He likes to give it) Slight choking marking (Adores hickeys and adores when you claw his back)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) He loves having sex in a bed, call him traditional or vanilla if you want, but to him nothing compares to being able to take his time with you, spread you out for him, and then hold you till you both fall asleep

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Something that turns jey on the most is when you make the night special for him. Wear some lingerie, play some music, maybe even get some champagne or his favorite whiskey. He loves being able to make everything special for you, if you were to switch the roles and surprise him, it would be the ultimate turn on for him and may even make him blush. Though he would never admit to that.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Anal, it's just not something he is into. Another no for him would probably be weapon play such as knife kink, once again it's not something he is into, though this one comes from a place of not wanting to bring something that could hurt you into the bedroom.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Pussy eating KING, he loves making you squirt when he eats you out. He has the process of making you do so almost down to a science. He loves sucking on your clit while he pumps his fingers into you and curls them right into your G-spot. As for receiving he 100% fucks your face. He will grab the sides of your head and thrust into your mouth while listening to you gag around him. "Come on Babygirl, I know you can handle it relax that throat for me baby"

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Fast but sensual, He thrusts into you deeply with enough speed to jerk your body up slightly when he bottoms out inside you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) I feel like he may be down for a quickie every so often, however he prefers the full thing and enough time to make you feel the best he possibly can. However, this doesn't mean on occasion he won't bend you over somewhere backstage before a show.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Jey would definitely experiment with you. As for risks, he loves having sex in places that someone might hear you crying out for him. Even if it's a hotel room and he knows there's someone next door, he will do what it takes to hear you scream his name.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Jey can go usually 2-3 rounds, it really depends on the mood that's set during you all having sex. If you want something rough and hot, then he will go at least three rounds with you, maybe edge you a little or deny you your orgasm to make sure that you really get the most of your time together.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) Jey doesn't own a whole lot of toys for himself or for you when you guys first get together. Though overtime he will get for you two to try out with one another. He loves using a vibrator wand on your clit while he fucks you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Jut enough to get you needy for him. Jey won't torture you with his teasing but he will make you beg just a little bit. He want's to rile you up just enough to make you beg him to fuck you. "Come on baby, say please, ask me to fuck you honey, beg me"

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Not super vocal in terms of moaning, he's very talkative during sex, because he loves to praise you and talk you through things. Though when he cums he will throw his head ack and let out deep groans. "Oh, babygirl, i'm so close, you finna cum for me?"

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) Jey has a polaroid in his wallet of you in his favorite set of lingerie. He loves the way that blue looks on you, hence why that particular set is his favorite to see you in. The reason he keeps it in his wallet is so that he always has a piece of you with him and so he always knows he's the only one who gets to see you like that.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Jey is about 7 1/2 very close to 8 inches. He has a deep red color to the tip of dick and a very slight upwards curve.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Average I suppose would be the word for Jey's sex drive. He isn't one that needs it all day everyday but on average you guys have sex about twice a week, sometimes more sometimes less.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Usually after you fall asleep, Jey will turn something on the tv or scroll on his phone for a bit before he falls asleep himself, though if you wanna be cuddled up to him all night then he will play in your hair till he goes to bed.

[deadpresidents]

Thanks for being real today.

I get people wanting to be hopeful.

But I can't with "it will be okay" and "we will survive this."

It was not okay for Heather Heyer, Joseph Rosenbaum, Anthony Huber, Joyce Fienberg, Richard Gottfried, Rose Mallinger, Jerry Rabinowitz, Cecil & David Rosenthal, Bernice & Sylvan Simon, Daniel Stein, Melvin Wax, Irving Younger, Andre Anchondo, Jordan Anchondo, Arturo Benavides, Leonardo Campos, Angie Englisbee, Maria Flores, Raul Flores, Guillermo "Memo" Garcia, Jorge Calvillo García, Adolfo Cerros Hernández, Alexander Gerhard Hoffman, David Johnson, Luis Alfonzo Juarez, Maria Eugenia Legarreta Rothe, Maribel (Campos) Loya, Ivan Filiberto Manzano, Elsa Mendoza Marquez, Gloria Irma Márquez, Margie Reckard, Sara Esther Regalado Moriel, Javier Rodriguez, Teresa Sanchez, Juan Velazquez, or any of the other people killed by white supremacists whose actions were aided and abetted by the Trump presidency. These people did not survive. Not to mention all the people who haven't survived COVID, but might have if the Trump administration had taken timely action. Or the women who have died after being refused appropriate medical care because of the rapist and his buddies that Trump appointed decided with some weird pastor in the 1600 said was more important than the lives of actual living, breathing, human beings. Or the school children who would not have been shot to death if we had actual gun control laws in this country, a thing that would have been possible to achieve if Trump had lost in 2016.

Yeah, sure, the majority of us in the United States will probably survive. That's how statistics work. And if that's what somebody needs to hear in order to move forward, then I guess saying such things has a purpose. But it's looking pretty shitty for anybody living in Ukraine and to me, it comes across as disrespectful to the people whose lives have been lost in no small part thanks to what goes down in US elections.

I needed somebody today who would say not only that this is not okay, but this is *really* not okay.

Thanks for being that voice.

Thank you for this. I can't help but write what I feel, even if some of it hasn't been the most optimistic message to send. There is a reality that we need to come to terms with in order to find some way forward. I'm pissed off and I'm disgusted with this country, so I'm going to keep doing what I've been doing because it is therapeutic for me right now and I'm too old to go around punching and kicking people.

I do want to say that I'm also cognizant of the fact that some people just need some time to allow this reality to settle. I certainly don't want to add to the stress or darkness that some of us are feeling right now. There is no denying that this is fucking terrible, but we will regroup and find a way through it. It won't be easy and we're going to have to fight, but I don't want anybody to think that there is genuinely no hope. There's always something that we can do, even if it seems bleak.

If I'm writing something or somebody else is saying something that you're not ready to hear, it's okay to do what you need to do to remain healthy. These posts are going to be here whenever you might feel like reading them. You can and should step away from this if you just need a fucking break. It doesn't mean you're any less ready or willing to fight this battle than anybody else. Even if Trump and the rotten MAGA cult takes control of every lever of power, you can gain a personal victory by not allowing them to completely crush your faith in the future. You can be depressed and despair, but do not give up. Do not give them that power over you. We will find a way. We will get through this. We will figure out what it is that we need to do and who we need to back and how we need to attack, but taking care of your personal health and well-being is more immediately important than the bigger political battle or the next step in the resistance. Take care of yourselves first and we'll still be here and ready to eventually harness this anger and frustration and fucking disgust to defeat the MAGA movement and Trump's Christian nationalist personality cult.

The main thing, though, is that if you're really having a tough time in the immediate future, step away, take some time, go for a walk, read something that has absolutely nothing to do with Donald Trump or American politics (if you need suggestions, I always have book recommendations!), and regroup. Again, we'll get through this, and as goofy and weird and ridiculous as Tumblr can be at times, there's always a community of people on this site willing to listen and help each other when we're struggling. So, if you are having trouble getting to tomorrow, reach out because there are scores of people here who will help get there with you.

[onboardsorasora]

I made a random post a few weeks ago about Daniel needing to have an existential crisis over a grey pube hair (if I find it I'll link). Weeks later @yesloulou made this post and I was immediately compelled all over again.

Dedicating this brain rot to @arturleclerc. I hope you enjoy it💕 (also I haven't reread it so hopefully it makes sense and is actually good. If it's not good we can pretend it didn't happen lmao)

Max paused in the doorway of their bedroom, eyebrows pulling to his hairline the longer he watched Daniel turn this way and that in front of the full length mirror. 

Naked. 

“Uhm, Daniel?” He asked, biting back his grin when Daniel jumped in surprise and slapped his hand over his dick to cover it. 

“Jeepers Maxy.” Daniel held his chest. 

Max tilted his head when Daniel’s eyes strayed back to the mirror. He never took Daniel to be the ‘check himself out in the mirror naked’ type. Considering he hadn’t seen him do it once in the entire time they’ve been dating. 

Daniel furrowed his brow as if annoyed before grabbing a pair of shorts from his drawer, what he had attempting to do in the first place. 

“What are you doing?” Max asked again, walking further into the room. 

“Nothing babe— can’t a guy check himself out? Still good looking, hot, sexy.” Daniel replied, Max knew him long enough to clock his uncomfortable babbling. 

“Are you looking at your gray hairs again?” Daniel had been weird for the last week, ever since Max pointed out a couple grey hairs that had started growing in his beard. 

Daniel stilled and unconsciously glanced at himself in the mirror again. He didn't look any different than he did a minute ago but clearly time and his age were catching up to him. He was 34, 35 this year. And greying.

Sure his job was stressful. Sure the last three years of his career were particularly stressful among other heightened emotions. But for his body to outwardly tell him that he wasn't providing a proper working environment for his cells was a slap in the face.

And his balls.

A handful of grey hairs in his beard by his jaw. He can handle that. Eventually. He eventually learned to accept it. Ok he hasn't accepted it yet but he was getting there. 

Sure he was shaving his beard more so he didn't have to see it but Max liked him with a mustache so it was all great.

But this was just egregious. 34 wasn't like all that old. He didn't even know that greying ‘early’ happened in his family! Grey hairs on his head he could manage (eventually). But grey hairs anywhere else should be illegal. 

It was fine, his day was going great. He had a productive meeting, went for a run, and came home to manscape a little in the shower, hoping to maybe lure Max off of the sim for an hour or so. 

Sure, Max didn't care if he had pubes or whatever but Daniel didn't like his shit growing too wild and free. A trim here and there was fine for him. Max made him promise not to wax anymore.

Anyway, he was just about to go through his almost meditative process when he saw something that he hoped was maybe just glare from the light. He'd almost fainted dead away right then and there when he'd brushed the hair with his finger and it continued to glint grey against the rest of the dark hair.

He had a grey hair beside his dick.

He had a grey hair beside his dick!

His dick had a fucking grey curly q.

“Daniel?” 

Daniel jumped, surprised to see Max so close. He hadn't even realized he'd spaced out.

“Daniel you are not old, of course.” Max smiled, cupping his cheek and swiping the stumble at his side burns that had started to betray him.

“Maxy I'm old as fuck apparently.” Daniel grumbled, soothing the ache in his chest with Max's giggle.

“Well I still love you.”

“Maxy...” Daniel trailed off because he wasn't yet willing to admit that his greatest fear was Max would come to his senses and realize that Daniel was too old. That these greys would be a warning sign to Max that Daniel's best years were officially behind him while Max's were yet to come.

“Daniel, you are being silly I think.”

“Maxy you say this now but I don't think you're ready to deal with old man balls.” 

“Daniel!” Max's eyes crinkled as he laughed. “You do not have old man balls.”

“Nah yeah. I like really do Maxy.” Daniel sighed.

Max rolled his eyes, Daniel was being so dramatic. He dropped to his knees in lieu of saying anything else.

“Max!” Daniel squawked. Sure this had been his plan maybe a half an hour ago but he hadn't gotten rid of that pesky grey hair and he couldn't let Max see.

“Daniel, you are being silly and I love you and you do not have old man balls.” Max started tugging at Daniel's shorts, snorting when his boyfriend grabbed at the waistband.

“Max– it's– no.” Daniel struggled, biting his lip when Max looked up at him curiously.

“Daniel?” Max furrowed his brow, Daniel was being more squirrely than usual. Something wasn't right.

“I–” Daniel's mouth opened and closed a couple times and no more sounds came out. He sighed explosively and his shoulders slumped. Max's eyes widened.

“Daniel what–”

Daniel bit the inside of his cheek, there was nothing for it. He may as well rip the band-aid off and just let Max see. He let go of his shorts, allowing the fabric to fall down his legs.

“I really do have old man balls Maxy.” Daniel said morosely. “A whole old man dick!” Max bit his lip so he wouldn't laugh at his boyfriend who truly was going through it. He couldn't figure out the trigger though.

“I don't understand, Daniel.”

“It's there!” Daniel, aggrieved, pointed aggressively to the thatch of hair surrounding his still soft dick.

Max followed his finger, stopping himself from leaning in to suck it into his mouth or to kiss Daniel's still lovely non old man dick. If only to apologize to the organ for how ungrateful Daniel was being. 

He mentally rolled his eyes and paid attention to what Daniel was trying to show him. Max didn't see anything wrong, Daniel's pubes had grown out a bit and Max wanted nothing more than to just press his face into the wiry hair– feel the burn of it against his chin. Then he saw it, and oh.

“Yeah– oh. Old man dick and balls. The whole package. I'm ancient Maxy. A fossil–” Daniel continued to babble, dragging a hand down his face.

“Daniel you are being silly. You are not old.” Max gave into the urge to press his face into the crease of Daniel's thigh, pressing a kiss to the section of skin that the lone (and apparently offending) grey hair was growing.

“Max–” Daniel was exasperated that Max wasn't getting it. Wasn't picking up what he was putting down. Even though he didn't want him to…he was confusing himself. The fact was he was old and Max finally knew and he was steeling himself for the inevitable.

“Oh!” Daniel shuddered when Max licked a wet stripe along his soft dick that wasn't very soft anymore. Max smirked and continued, sucking Daniel's half hard dick into the warm wet heat of his mouth.

Daniel gripped Max's hair to steady himself, moaning when Max swallowed him whole and pressed his nose into the curls at the base of him. Max looked up through his lashes, humming long and deep.

“Fuck.” Daniel hissed and Max clutched at his thighs. He created a rhythm, coaxing Daniel to fuck his throat. Daniel snapped his hips forward eagerly, groaning as he watched Max swallow his dick in the mirror. Max winked up at him before doing that thing with his tongue that Daniel loved. 

Daniel was a goner, curling over Max's head while he came– hard. 

After, he staggered backwards, watching dazedly as Max licked his swollen, pink lips. Daniel wanted to swallow him whole.

He dragged Max to his feet and planted a sloppy kiss to his lips, tasting his come and Max's lips. He was about to push him onto the bed so he could eagerly return the favor when

“Of course it's exactly what I thought.” Max said smugly. Daniel raised a brow curiously.

“What do you mean?” 

“I don't know what you're talking about earlier, Daniel. Your old man dick still works.”

Daniel couldn't help it, he laughed. Because in his own way, Max just alleviated Daniel's fears.

“I love you, y'know?” 

“I know Daniel.” Max pressed a deep kiss to his lips before pulling back. “My young man dick needs attention, of course.” 

Max grinned when Daniel laughed.

[pseudowho]

At the risk of giving any ounce of credence to that unwelcome asker, you once reblogged one of my works, which went on to become my most popular piece as a result of that increased boost in visibility for my small, relatively new account. Even so, it was the incredibly kind comment/review you left that made a lasting impact on me. So that asker was: A) Clearly loud and wrong B) Some things are much more valuable than the number of "likes" on Tumblr. Perhaps this is something they could reflect on if they'd spend less time pocket-watching other people's supposed engagement numbers on a social media site. Keep doing you, I enjoy reading both your work and the banter between you and Mr. Haitch!

One thing I've always sworn to do, is to maintain honesty and sincerity regarding my personal reblog culture. I ensure I only reblog the things that I adore, that I think are really amazing quality, or that explore something/use language in such a way/characterise very well/make me laugh, etc. in a way that makes it feel outstanding to me.

As such, all of my reblogs are heartfelt, and while I may reblog some writers more than once, it's because they've done these things more than once. I love to save for myself, and to share amazing work.

I'm aware that having a large following and sharing someone's work can make a massive difference to the amount of interaction they see...but it only opens the audience for their work a little bit.

It's not the barrier being opened. I'm not gatekeeping anything by being a "Big Blog™️'. It's not the big thing that determines whether someone gets more likes or followers. I had basically no followers when I started, and wrote and wrote and wrote to gain it.

What I see more and more is a shift towards cliquey and insincere reblogging. People repeatedly hyping work not for the quality, but because it's their friend and the 'positive reblog culture' has actually been transformed into a 'toxic reblog culture'.

This also flips the other way-- when someone or a group of people decide they don't like you, they stop reblogging or engaging with your work at all, even when they apparently loved it once before.

Isn't that sad? That tells you they're not really here for the art at all.

I'm here for the art; I'll reblog a great piece even if I don't personally like the person who created it. I'm not talking about giving genuinely horrible people a platform; just those whose personalities don't get along with mine. I'll still reblog their work if I love it, even if I know they hate me. Because I'm a big fucking girl.

I think half the reason my reblogging is so effective, as it was for you, is because I hand-on-heart love every piece I reblog.

How many times have you seen someone reblog their friend over and over and over, hyping their work beyond reasonability, and as such it feels insincere and forced?

Why has artwork and literature become one big Boys' Club, when we should be trying to push our world away from these bizarre "Us Vs Them" practices?

I don't sit and watch my notes. I keep receiving bitter assertions that the "only reason I have X notes is because I have X followers"...as if the notes mean everything, as if my writing hasn't drawn people to engage with my work, as if I came by my followers by luck instead of anything else?

I could wax lyrical all night.

Tl;dr-- toxic cliquey reblog culture is a scourge. You can rely on my reblogs to be utterly sincere and not driven by loyalty disguised as 'positive reblog culture', but based on my genuine love for what I reblog.

I'm so glad that any reblogs I've given you have increased the notice your work has received, but quite frankly, if your work gained traction after I reblogged it, I barely nudged your work-- its quality was its main driving force.

So don't do yourself dirty. You're fantastic.

I'm prepared to lose followers and gain more blocks even for this. People don't like being told they're arseholes, especially when they pretend they're above petty bullshit like this.

I'm here, and I have fun. I don't obsess over any of this. I really hope you stay for the fun too, and if you want a non-anon message, I'm more than happy for it, as I always am.

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[maingh0st]

thoughts on holly black's tithe

fair warning that this isn't really going to be a book review—I went into this book predisposed to enjoying it, and I generally had a good time. rather than a comprehensive review, I just have some loose silos of thoughts I wanted to share. it's still a long post, but I'm not attempting to cover everything! so without further ado (some spoilers ahead):

let's get this out of the way

Tithe was Holly Black's debut YA novel, and it reads like it. it's a good debut—she's clearly a skillful author even this early in her career—but there are some choices (pacing, phrasing, etc) that read as slightly amateur. one of these choices was, in my opinion, including multiple POVs. maybe this is a controversial take, but I would've enjoyed this book more if Roiben's POV hadn't been included. it would've increased narrative tension, led to more intrigue about his character, and allowed us to get to know him along with Kaye (rather than being privy to his secrets and Deep Inner Turmoil from the jump).

I can't remember where I saw this, but someone said that reading Tithe feels like talking to a teen who's just figured out they can swear & make sex jokes, and yeah, that's accurate—but I also found it strangely endearing. Kaye is a teen, and her ~quirky~ teenager-ish musings on boys, alcohol, fashion, etc feel believable. which leads, unfortunately, to the next thing I've gotta address:

Kaye is 16 years old, and most of the time, she reads like a 16 year old. on the other hand, we're never told Roiben's exact age, but the man has lived a lot of life by the time we meet him. now I'm pretty lenient toward the idea that the Folk age differently than humans, so it's not really an exact number that's the issue, but the sheer chasm in life experience between them. I quite enjoyed both characters on their own, and conceptually, I feel like they work well together on a personality level, but yikes guys. the story even highlights that Kaye hasn't gotten her license yet because of her age; meanwhile, Roiben is waxing melodramatic about how many people he's killed in his years of tortured servitude to his evil queen. this age gap combined with the insta-lovey nature of their relationship* made this book feel... well, about as dated as it is.

*they have great chemistry once they're actually having conversations & getting to know one another! I really enjoyed their banter! but that's well into the book, and well after they've already been acting mutually infatuated

laughs nervously while looking at sjm

okay I'm not going to harp on the above points, I just wanted to get them out of the way. but now let's play a game: let me tell you about a plot from a popular YA novel, and you tell me which book I'm describing.

there is an evil queen with beautiful red hair and pale skin. she holds her court beneath a large hill. the court itself is ghastly—full of bloodshed, debauchery, riddles, and cruel games. unfortunately, an immortal fey man has found himself magically bound to her power, and while he tries to carve out pockets of agency in minor ways, his forced loyalty to his queen requires him to compromise his morals and cultivate a fearsome, bloody reputation.

a young woman who was raised in the human world finds herself swept up in the machinations of this court. the man fears for her, because she is vulnerable, but her presence also makes him feel hope, and her strength and cleverness surprise him. many shenanigans ensue, and they kill the wicked queen.

I mean. there are notable differences, of course, but I just noticed too many acotar parallels. anyways. holly black did it better

reading a faerie's pov

I've already established that I love Kaye, but guys, I really do love Kaye. I love that she takes initiative and moves the plot along (breaking her glamour too early is a great example of this—she could've gone along with the Grand Plan, but her curiosity led her to act faster). I like that Holly allows her to be selfish and think ugly things, but still try to do good and be kind. I know these books have less buzz than tfota, but I find myself fascinated that there's not really Discourse about the Kenny situation (for a tldr: Kenny is Kaye's best friend's boyfriend. Kaye accidentally glamours him to be infatuated with her. when she learns how to remove that glamour, she first takes the time to taunt him publicly and humiliate him with his own desire for her. personally, I like that Holly wrote her doing this and then feeling remorse about it, but it is objectively pretty shitty, both to him and to her best friend).

I also like the way Kaye is believably fey. she's playful and blunt and mostly uncaring about social conventions. repeatedly throughout the book, she'll make a decision without deliberating on it beforehand (which at first, as a reader, feels jarring), but then as she's facing the consequences, she processes her choice and often feels regret or course-corrects in some way. it feels very fae to jump into something because it seems fun, then only once you're in the thick of it realize that Oops, My Actions Have Consequences

threads left undone/questions that weren't answered—or maybe I'm a bad reader

who tried to kill Roiben at the beginning of the book? it's a Seelie arrow, but I thought there would be more plot relevance to this attempt on his life. do Seelie fae often try to murder him? it seemed like a significant one-off event, but as it stands at the end of Tithe, it was just the narrative's way of leading Kaye to find him

Kaye pricked her finger on a thorn in Lloyd's jacket pocket, and I now understand that this was (I guess?) meant to connect Lloyd to Nephamael (the knight with the thorn-lined cloak). but hey, this is a magic book, and I really thought there would be some magical significance to Kaye pricking her finger

is Kaye Fierch her true name? Does she have a true name that she's unaware of? How are true names given / received?

what secrets are guarded by the Court of Termites?? I know this isn't really a plot hole because Kaye is so new to the world of the Folk, but I'm just putting it on the record right here that I really hope we learn some of these Deep and Dark Secrets that were teased

because this post has gotten long, I'm going to create a separate one with bullet points of things we learn about/are reminded of re: how the faerie world works. I kept track of these for the fic I'm currently outlining, but also because it's fun to pay attention to little worldbuilding details :)

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: Pray For Us, Icarus (series)

For three centuries, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has tried to find a way to restore him to his true self, but all he seems to do is hurt them both. This time, he only means to steal a brief moment when he walks into Crowley's flower shop. But Crowley can't let it go...

Length: 65,836 words

AO3 Rating: Teen and Up

Best for: Safe in Public, At Home, Human AU, Canon AU, Angst, Romance, One Sitting

Triggers: Temporary Character Death

Read it here, fic by Atalan

*Minor Spoilers* There's nothing I can say about this story that probably hasn't already been said. It is one of the most popular and well-known Good Omens fanfics, and for excellent reason. I know for certain that I'm not the only one who has wept while reading it. Today was my third time with this story, and, whoops, I cried again.

I've tried to express my thoughts in this post in a few different ways. I can't wax poetic about how much I love this story—my writing skills just aren't there. And much of what I've tried to say feels redundant. I even had a whole paragraph comparing it to the themes in this art by chernozemm which is how this story feels to me.

What I've settled on is that you should read this story because it is intrinsically Good Omens Fanfiction. This series only works as Aziraphale and Crowley, and you could not repackage or retell this story for any other fandom, or, God forbid, traditional fiction. All the emotions we feel reading this come from the intimacy we already have with this world and these characters. The story, and the author, know we can read between the lines. Thus, it can drop a simple line and have us crumple because we already know the subtext behind it. That's why I am so addicted to fanfiction! I'm not saying this is the only story that has accomplished this. But I do think it's one of the most successful.

This series, in my opinion, must be read all the way through. In my eyes, this is a singular work and no one should be skipping any part of this saga. It bothers me that the hit counts between the parts is not equal. The first part has 99k hits and the final 47k. The drop off is criminal! Every section of this story is important and critical to the full picture. So if you read the first part, Flowers for Anthony, and did not proceed to the rest of the story, please get on this!

Completely safe in public, but if you can, I really suggest you read this one at home in one sitting. You'll want to devote all your attention to this story. If, for some reason, you haven't read this one yet, please make it a priority! This is one of the most heart-wrenching and romantic stories I've ever read, and it deserves its spot as a fandom classic.

Read it here, fic by Atalan

[saltsicklover]

24,901 Miles

Title: 24,901 Miles

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (First Person)

Word Count: 1,800

Rating: PG13

Warnings: Swearing, Angst and Fluff

Disclaimer: I do not own Bucky Barnes, or anything related to Marvel within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

We have always been the most intimate in crowded rooms; yards apart eyes catching each others' knowing glances. The way his fingers trace gently over the Windsor knot of his tie, adjusting the already perfect garment- maybe he still hasn't gotten used to the way the silk sits against the collar of his shirt, or maybe he knows my gaze will be drifting over the bloom of scabs and scrapes that decorate his knuckles like jewels. 

He cut his hair but his hands still drift up to the sides of his face, brushing his fingertips over the well trimmed, effectively shaved hair in an effort to tuck it behind his ears. I can feel a smile tug at the corners of my lips when he catches himself half way through the movement, arm bent, hand reaching, before he stumbles over his own movements, electing to run a hand over his dark stubble instead. I catch the sideways dash of his eyes as he drops his hand back to his side, effectively tucking it in his pocket to keep himself from making another false move. 

I catch him watching me adjust the straps of my high heel, one foot up on a chair. He leans against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching- studying- as I struggle with the small buckles. By the time I set both feet back on the ground and pull the hem of my dress back down in place, he has drifted to the other side of the room again, making small talk with the other party goers. I hold a glass up to him from across the room, the chilled champagne numbing the tips of my fingers, a sharp contrast to warmth of the blush that rolls over on my skin at his smile. 

Our paths drift back together as the night rolls on, the mugginess of the late summer air dissipating into the most refreshing cool breeze. He stands outside, eyes wandering over the lights of the city, the movement slow and deliberate, like he is trying to take in every single twinkle and blink of each individual light of the cityscape below us. I watch the dance of the lights through his whiskey dark eyes and nothing has felt more augur than this moment- I could see our entire future in his eyes, each moment written in a flurry of city lights. 

"James," My voice small and strained from overuse. I clear my throat a bit, before trying again, "James." He turns to look at me this time, pieces of myself melting like candle wax while the sense of smoke billows through my head. "What's a doll dizzy man like yourself doing out here all alone?" The smile that blooms across his face is the brightest I have ever seen. 

"The prettiest dame at the party just wandered out here, so why on Earth would I be in there with Tony and the like getting sauced?" He chuckles, eyes wandering over the crest of my shoulder and down to my wrist. 

"How long are we going to keep this up, James?" I question him, gesturing between us. He doesn't bother to turn and meet my eyes, his sight still falling over the skyline.

"How long are you going to keep calling me James?" He shoots back, rubbing at the back of his neck, more in an attempt to work out the anxious energy that builds between us than anything. I wander up to his side, positioning myself at the railing. The metal is cold through the fabric of my dress but the heat that rolls off James is more than enough to stifle the goosebumps that threaten to encapsulate my skin. 

"You look nice in purple," I dodge his question, fingers gripping over the railing to steady myself. We brush elbows. My heart thrums beneath my ribcage, blood coursing through my ears. 

"I didn't even think they made ties out of silk anymore. After they started rationing for the war effort, Ma always bought Pa and I wool ties. These are much more comfortable," He runs his hand down the length of his tie, palm brushing it flat against his chest, "But I'm always worried this damn knot is comin' loose." He cocks his body more towards mine, eyes still planted firmly on the silk tie. I turn towards him, my hand finding purchase on the soft silk knot, the other swatting away his hand before pulling the material tight with careful fingertips. 

He ventures a careful glance at me, tongue poking out from between his teeth. I run a hand down his chest for a moment before pulling back, turning my attention back towards the darkness of New York. I swear I could feel his heart threatening to break through his chest, but I try not to dwell on it. 

"Do your hands hurt?" My voice is quieter now. 

"Not much," He shrugs, "Why, you worried about me, doll?" 

I can't fight the sigh that escapes my lips. "Don't do that, James," 

"Don't do what, doll?" He questions me, throwing a look my way, over the bulk of his shoulder. His eyebrows are furrowed and low, a soft but perturbed look painting his features. 

"That! Call me 'doll'" I lean down, pressing my forehead to the chilled railing in a shallow attempt to keep a level head, "You can't just dodge my question and then pull shit like that, James, that's not how it works," I huff. 

"Don't go acting all cockeyed, thinking I'm the only one dodging questions here, doll," And there it is again, that damn nickname that manages to break me and put me back together again with four simple, little letters. I know we aren't going to get anywhere with all of this back and fourth, sometimes, something's gotta give. 

"I call you James because that's your name," Our elbows brush again and I can't tell if he did it on purpose or if we are just drawn to each other. 

"I don't know how many time's I've gotta tell you this, but you can call me Bucky," His voice is somewhere between a huff and a plea, either way exasperated. I can't call him that, no matter how many times he asks, because that's what his friends call him. That's what his team calls him. That's what a girlfriend should call him. I am none of those things. 

"Eleven."

"What?"

"You've asked me to call you that eleven times. Every single party that we have been at-" I want to say 'together' but I stop myself, because we have never been at a single one of these damn parties together. He turns to me but I don't face him. It's my turn to make constellations out of the city lights. "I have been at eleven of these damn things for Tony, and I don't even know why he would want a journalist at his parties, but I show up every time. Not because I want to see him, either."

"Eleven? You counted?" His tone is soft like it's shadowing some sort of disbelief instead of interrogative like it should be.

"How long are we going to keep up whatever this is?" I look him in the eye now, my tone pleading to mask the hurt blooming behind my ribcage. I can feel pinprick tears beginning to form in the corners of my eyes. He just looks at me with disbelief, no, refusal. 

"You counted how many time's I have asked you to call me 'Bucky', and yet, you still won't do it. You keep calling me James, and yeah, that's my name, doll, but you're too, you're too-" He gestures up and down, palms to the sky like he is pleading with an all knowing force.

"I'm too what, James?" There is pain in my words now. I blink back the tears, refusing to let them fall. There is too much space between us now, not physically, but emotionally- we are more distant now than we have ever been. James lets out a gruff sound of annoyance. 

"You're too goddamn important to me, okay?" He almost shouts at me, hands buried in his hair. "You know who called me James? Hydra. When I wasn't 'Soldier', or 'Asset', or 'Weapon' I was James. That name makes me sick, now." 

"Oh, God, I am- I am so sorry. I didn't, I didn't know," I attempt to apologize, neither of us attempting to make eye contact. 

"It's not your fault, don't worry about it," He tried to brush it off, waving his hand.

"I can't believe I have been coming to these parties to see you and I've just ended up insulting you every single time! Oh my God, I am so sorry." I burry my face in my hands, trying to hide the embarrassment and raspberry blush that now stains my face. My whole body burns as I relive every time I have called him James, over and over again on fast forward. "I don't blame you if you want to get as far away from me as possible."

"You know, the closer we are together is technically the furthest away from each other we can ever possibly be, if you trace the path around the Earth the other direction," He takes a half a step closer to me, closer than he has ever been before, "So, sure, I can get further away," 

"What are you doing?" I question him, voice wavering. 

"I'm getting as far away from you as possible," He reaches out, grabbing my hands in his, enveloping them with the wide expanse of his fingers. He pulls me closer, placing my hands against his chest firmly before snaking one hand around my waist, the other coming up to brush over my cheek. He leans forward, capturing my lips with his in a heat filled kiss that leaves me breathless. He pulls back quickly, eyes searching my face for any sort of discomfort.  A smile pulls at the corner of my lips, my heart fluttering in my chest. I let myself step just a fraction closer, my chest pressing against his. He smiles down at me, eyes sparkling brighter than any of the lights in the city. I run my knuckles over his cheekbone.

"You never did answer my question,"

"I am going to keep this up as long as you let me. There is no one I'd rather be further away from, doll," He winks at me. 

"24,901miles between us and you're still a flirt," I chide, pushing his shoulder playfully. 

"I've been flirting with you for eleven of these parties, I'm just happy it finally got us somewhere."

"Me too, Bucky, me too," I pull him down for a kiss, but the wide smile he wears leaves me giggling against his lips from 24,901miles away.

[everwitch-magiks]

OKAY EVIE. The epic rivalry between a flashy spellcaster and the person who has to complete all the restoration paperwork after the quest is complete. xoxo MJ/kiwiana-writes

Why, hello MJ! Wow, time flies. How about we don't think too hard about how it’s been five or so months since I reblogged this ask game and you sent me this ask.

There is something of a reason why this took me an amount of time: so I decided to make this one more fun by fleshing it out into a little story and also telling it in reverse order. The latter turned out a little challenging. But without further yapping, here it is. Five fun facts from (... more like parts of) a spellcaster/spell restorator (that's a word, right?) AU, told from ending to beginning. Enjoy! ♡

5. Except the very next day, Alex receives a handwritten letter sealed with wax. The seal is the Fox family's. The penmanship is delicate and measured, nothing like the radiant man Alex knows is behind it.

The letter contains both an apology and an invitation. Henry is asking Alex to meet him on the summit of the mountain.

(Alex does.)

4. It goes on like that for months. Henry keeps stopping by, keeps lingering, keeps laughing at Alex's jokes - even when they're mediocre. There's something there. Something beneath the surface. Something that's slowly blossomed this whole time.

One morning, Henry comes early. Before one of his quests. He wants to know if he may visit Alex late that evening, after his return. 'The sunset will be pretty at that time of day. Perhaps we could get up above the treetops to get a good view?'

Alex's heart races in his chest long after Henry has left.

But Henry doesn't come that night. Possibly, his quest went on for longer than he'd anticipated - or possibly, he found something more worthy of his time than Alex.

It'd make sense. Alex can't even claim he's surprised. A common restorator was never a good match for a legendary spellcaster.

3. Henry's pretty when he smiles. He's even prettier when he laughs. He's been spending more and more time simply sitting in Alex's kitchen between quests. It's a little unnerving. Henry has hundreds of admirers who'd happily entertain him during his time off - yet instead he's drinking tea at Alex's table, listening to Alex's rants about the incompetent archivists over at restoration headquarters.

'Anyway, I shouldn't bore you with the details-'

'I like it when you tell me the details.'

That's annoyingly sweet. 'Careful, Fox. I might fall a little bit in love with you.'

Henry's smile softens a fraction. 'I'm sure I shall find some way to bear that.'

Fuck.

Maybe Alex's fantasy of heading up the mountain with Henry could someday become reality.

2. Henry’s off on another quest. Something to do with a flock of wild unicorns inconveniencing a nearby village. Small stuff. If it'd been anyone else the paperwork would've been a piece of cake, but since it's Henry it'll probably take weeks.

Alex isn’t dealing with any of that today. He's off on a stroll up the mountain; the clearance to restore Henry’s most monumental mess hasn't come through yet, so Alex might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

Yet when Alex returns home, Henry is there. He's outside Alex's house. That's so odd. Henry hasn't deigned to stop by since they were first thrown together as partners from their respective guilds - even though, at the time, Alex had thought they'd hit it off pretty well.

Henry smiles bashfully when Alex says as much. 'Work has kept me very busy.'

Alex snorts. 'Yeah, well, me too. All thanks to you. You sure don't do things by halves.'

'... Maybe there's someone I've been trying to impress.'

Oh.

1. Alex has fucking had it.

He's knee-deep in trying to obtain clearance to reverse Henry’s latest disaster: a mountain moved from one side of the kingdom to the other while on a quest to save a young boy from a dragon. Moving mountains is a level five restoration. And moving it didn't even help with the fucking dragon. Ridiculous. Henry’s such a showoff.

Never mind that moving mountains is kind of impressive.

Never mind that the mountain is Alex’s favorite in the kingdom, and now the foot of it sits next to his backyard.

Alex’s whole life revolves around following Henry’s tracks and covering them up. And he’s damn good at it. Best in the guild. But sometimes, he wonders what the point of it all is if Henry always remains just out of reach.

Never mind that Alex told Henry once, in a moment of weakness, that he's always dreamt of being asked for his hand at the top of that very mountain. Henry probably doesn't even remember. And even if he does, it'll never be him who takes Alex up the mountain to make it a reality. That’s just a silly fantasy.

... There we have it! Thank you - belatedly - for the ask! ♡

[pfhwrittes]

hello friend, i have werewolf questions. 🧡

Do werewolves have any wolf-y characteristics or traits when they aren't transformed? I saw in blurb #2 their sense of smell seems heightened when human?

Do their werewolf forms share characteristics with their human bodies? And if so, how? (Thinking size, fur + hair color, etc.)

Do they run in packs? Or are they solitary?

hi sy! thank you for the werewolf questions! 💜

i'm going to stick my lore under the cut because i think this going to get long!

Do werewolves have any wolf-y characteristics or traits when they aren't transformed? they sure do! you're right i did mention a heightened sense of smell in my second blurb. they also have a heightened sense of hearing, providing of course that their hearing hasn't been damaged in some way. there are a few factors that determine how much these senses affect a werewolf's day to day life. for example, stress, the lunar cycle and the werewolf's hormone cycle will cause their control on their senses to fluctuate.

werewolves are also ever so slightly hairier than their human counterparts so some werewolves end up spending a fortune on waxing / hair removal cream / razors if they want to maintain a relatively hairless appearance.

as for diet... well it's a matter of personal preference but most 'wolves will find they have a craving for meat the closer they get to the full moon. ('wolves that don't typically eat red meat/any meat products may find this distressing at first and will try to manage the cravings by supplementing their diets with molasses, iron supplements, marmite and lots of leafy greens. in most cases this is only partially successful as when they are shifted they will definitely catch and eat rabbits, hare, deer and other prey animals. sorry.)

Do their werewolf forms share characteristics with their human bodies? And if so, how? (Thinking size, fur + hair color, etc.) yes absolutely! natural hair colour is definitely an influence on fur colour for werewolves when they're shifted. 'wolf coat colours range from light sandy browns to a brown so dark it could be considered black. if the werewolf normally has dyed hair in their human form this doesn't affect their wolf coat (but they may find that their roots grow out faster than humans).

as for height/weight affecting werewolf appearances, i'm going to make it canon that in werewolf society fat bodies are seen as more attractive. why? because it's a good indication that the 'wolf is part of a) a cohesive pack structure and b) has a territory with plenty of resources. thinner bodies aren't necessarily unattractive (personal preferences still apply) but it can be an indication that the werewolf is in a resource poor territory, that they are part of an unstable pack or that they are a disperser wolf.

Do they run in packs? Or are they solitary? werewolves in general run in packs, much like actual wolves do. this also means that like most wolf packs, dispersal wolves are a thing!

a werewolf may leave their original pack and territory for various reasons for example: internal conflict within the pack; lack of resources to support an increased number of 'wolves; forming a bond outside of the pack structure; and of course, the horrible realisation that you're related to nearly everyone in the pack making dating opportunities exceptionally slim... or exceptionally gross. ew.

i'm still working out how much of the "dominance theory" (alpha/beta/omega wolves) vs the real world application of breeding pairs i want to use in the werewolf au. i'll figure it out. but i do want to make it clear that werewolf au isn't a a/b/o fic. there will be no mating cycles/heat cycles or knots in this fic.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I told my trans friend that I don't like the comments she's making on my transition and why?

Tw for dysphoria and bodyshaming?

I am non-binary transmasc, and my friend is binary transfemme. I don't have terrible dysphoria, it fluctuates, but she absolutely does. She's very upset that she won't be able to start hrt for a while because she lives with her parents and they absolutely will not accept her and she doesn't want to be kicked out. I, however, started low dose testosterone a few months ago. She was happy for me like everyone else in our friend group, but she's said and done a few things that make me uncomfortable for multiple reasons.

My mother started making comments about my body at a very young age, everything from gender presentation to my weight. As soon as I started my first puberty, she started taking me to get my eyebrows and upper lip waxed, she said I needed to exercise more to not gain weight, but mostly she made comments about herself. My mother constantly talked about how she was "fat" in front of me, how it made her ugly and basically how she was ashamed of her body. I've had to do a lot of healing from all of that, learning how bodies naturally exist and how to be comfortable in my skin, even though the gender dysphoria is still there.

Now, back to my friend, when I started T, she started looking at me differently. One time when we were hanging out, she stared at my face multiple times, even leaning closer to me, and when I asked what she was doing, she 'complimented' me on how my mustache was growing in. Another time, I was wearing shorts and she said that obviously the T was working because my leg hair was getting darker. I haven't shaved my legs since well before I met this friend and it's always been dark, the T isn't responsible for that. On top of that, she keeps calling herself "fat" and ugly, like the two words are synonyms, in front of our entire friend group, one of whom is bigger than her and is on a forced diet from his mom. We've all asked her to stop calling herself fat, because it's not true and it's making us all uncomfortable.

Because she hasn't started hrt and she has a history of romanticizing things, I'm really worried about what these comments mean. It feels like she believes that once she starts estrogen, all of her dysphoria will melt away and she'll become this thin, hairless doll of a woman, even though body hair is something everyone deals with past puberty and all of us don't see anything wrong with her build/weight. I'm almost worried that her starting hrt will make her dysphoria worse if her misconceptions continue.

I want to talk to her about this, but she has a lot of dysphoria, as well as really bad rejection sensitivity. I don't want to come across as an asshole, even if *I* feel the conversation needs to happen. WIBTA?

What are these acronyms?

[ilydeku]

੭﹕﹙💌﹚﹒ꕤ Ꞌꞌ

Sender: "Deku" Izuku Midoriya - Deku Hero Agency

Addressed to: "Kaze" Y/n L/n - Kaze Hero Agency

You have received a box of chocolates and a letter. The envelope is signed by Izuku Midoriya and wax stamped in the shape of a heart. Open?

Dear y/n,

It's been a while, hasn't it? How are you? I hope this letter doesn't inconvenience you in any way. It's Valentine's Day and all and I guess I found today as an excuse to write to you. You'd probably find it weird if I sent you a letter any other day, right? You know, since I could've texted or emailed you. But then again, you'd probably be too busy to be checking your phone. Haha...Anyways, there's no way for me to beat around the bush, so I'll say it bluntly.

I love you.

I love you and everything about you. The reasons are countless. I love everything and anything about you. I want you. I need you. I've been in denial about my feelings for you up until now. Whether to blame for selfish reasons or wanting to avoid it. I just hope it's not too late to reach you. I know it's been years since we've really hung out together. We only get to see each other once in a while at hero gatherings and other work-related events. I look forward to getting a chance to talk to you every time those events come up. I know our conversations there only last a few minutes, but I cherish them. Listening to you go on about how you're feeling, how your days have been, and what you'd like to do if you ever get a day off. Those aren't things I get to hear every day. I like listening to your voice, listening to you talk about anything. So much so, that sometimes your voice replays in my head without thought. I guess it's like a reminder of how much I miss you, and how much I'd like to spend time with you. Or maybe how much I want you in my life. Do you remember this one thing you told me you wanted? The wish you told me not to laugh at the hero gala? That one day you wish to get married to a wonderful man and have beautiful children and live happily together. I didn't think it was silly at all. In fact, I wanted to tell you that maybe I could grant you that wish, but I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything. But just to let you know...the thought is still valid.

I wonder if you'll even have time to read through all this, haha. I took this day off just for the sole purpose to write a letter to you. Pathetic, huh. The number one hero in love. I wasn't sure how to start it off. I didn't know if I should be poetic, formal, or informal. I may not be a poet, but for you, I could try to be. Ahem. Love is the promulgation of promises of eternal passion I hold in await for you. The breathlessness when I lay eyes on you. The warmth I feel from your smile; to which rivals the sun. Feeling so light, like a cloud drifting through a sunny morning. Pfft. Sounds pretty corny actually. Moving on.

I'm happy that you're doing well as a hero. I've seen you on T.V. with your powerful speeches and promises to the citizens. I love that confidence you hold in yourself. I find it attractive, dare I say alluring. I love that pretty smile you always have on your face. It's contagious. I'm even smiling right now at the thought of you. Even my heart is racing. Maybe it's the excitement I have writing to you. Or perhaps it's the anxiousness that you might overlook this letter and never speak to me again. I'm not expecting anything in return from this. I just wanted to tell you how I feel about you, or else I'd live with this guilty weight of love on my shoulders. How you feel about me is something that I'll accept nonetheless. Love me. Hate me. I'll take even no response at all. I know it's a lot to take in since I haven't been too obvious about my feelings. I don't mean to pressure you or anything. You probably get fan mail like this every day, confessing their love. Of course, a lovely lady hero like you. So, again, don't feel like you have to say anything in return. I wish you love and light and wish you all the best. I hope this wasn't a bad time. Happy Valentine's Day, dearest y/n.

Yours Truly, Izuku Midoriya ♡

P.S. I hope you like the chocolates! I didn't know which flavor you'd like the most, so I got you the sample box :))

You clutch the letter in your hands in ecstasy. Your heart is pounding in excitement. You're feeling affectionate. Send a response letter?

support me? :)

[coffee-with-pigeon-milk]

TW Body image discussions and Fatphobia. TW also for self harm and eating disorders. TW for bullying.

I can't stop crying. I'm sitting in the car after a very long day; and I don't really have anybody I can talk to about this in my real life. In case I haven't told you the last couple of months have been very difficult. I've had to take over the care of my mom while she is fighting for a diagnosis. She had suddenly developed a severe migraine well over two months ago, and it just hasn't gone away.

We have tried everything, and nothing has worked. So we see her family practitioner who ordered testing. Which is fairly standard, except for us. Because of her Ehlers-Danlos, she needs a specialized test. An upright MRI to be specific. Well the only one we are even close to is in Chicago. So off we go. We drive for 4+ hours. We got up before 6 this morning, btw. Anyway, fast forward to 4 pm this afternoon. My mom goes in for her scan and I chose to stay out in the car. Which is shut off and the windows are cracked.

It's a beautiful day and I'm enjoying the chance to rest for a bit. This particular MRI clinic is next to a rec center and lots of people are coming and going. As I'm sitting there I hear the laughter of young men. Maybe...17 years old at the most. I remember that I thought to myself, just ignore them. Close your eyes and feel the breeze. Well when the laughter didn't stop I looked up to see what was going on and guess what.. these two young guys were taking my fucking picture.

One of them took at least one and must have seen me looking back at him through his camera because they looked right at me and psudeo-ran away. Laughing and looking at my car the whole time. I can say without hesitation that I have never been more humiliated in all my life.

I haven't wanted to disappear this bad since I was a teenager myself. I was the girl that people would be dared to ask out, but the second I showed excitement or eagerness... well, let's say that more than once, people laughed in my face. Or called me slurs and mocked me. To my face. I have struggled to find any empathy or even love for myself and have had to claw myself up to even body neutrality.

I'm fat. I have PCOS so I get darker peach fuzz and extra chin hair which i normally wax. However the skin on my chin is darker.. like a sort of shadow. I'm not white. I just cut my hair short to help with ease of care. I'm short. I'm shy. I've never been sexy. Ive always been "cute." I've never been in a relationship with someone I've met in person. I've never had anyone want to stay. I'm also a daughter and a sister and a foster mom for sick kittens. I've been able to save every rescue I've ever had.

That doesn't matter though. I can't even be left alone to enjoy the sunshine without mockery. I'm recovering from eating disorders. I have chronic pain. I am doing my best. What else can I do? I've lost two pounds and I was over the moon because I did it in a healthy way. It is never enough.

I think I'm just gonna finish up with mom and probably go to bed early.

[kaurwreck]

do you have any general headcanons about bsd that you're fond of? sort of alternatively, any interesting tidbits about the irl authors to share? your blog has taught me a lot, maybe even a bit against my will 💀 irl authors were so funny ANYWAY ty so much for oversharing because i enjoy it a lot!!

I've been chewing on how to answer this because I have so many headcanons I'm so fond of, but it felt too self-indulgent to pour headcanons on you when I could offer facts as an alternative.

I post what I learn because it excites me, but also because I think it's wrong to have the resources I do without striving to share them. Since I haven't been writing fic like I used to, analyses and factual deep cuts are also all I have to offer the community in return for the joy this media brings me. It's not what everyone always wants, but it's the only other way I know how to engage.

That said, at least this time, I'm going to share several of my headcanons (some of which are theories) instead. But, so that I'm not completely wasting anyone's time, I'll also include one (1) Akutagawa fact at the end, if only because I think it's devastating 🧡

the Executives

Chuuya and Verlaine have a monthly standing appointment with each other to smoke and drink Bordeaux and wax poetic in French in Verlaine's depression hovel. It's a pretense for Verlaine to tell Chuuya about Rimbaud, and for Chuuya to listen and remember so that he can be the edifying stele Rimbaud's grave wasn't afforded.

It's also so they can vent, gush, and gossip.

Kouyou and Verlaine both want to dress Chuuya and bicker over it, especially ahead of formal events and special occasions. Chuuya and Verlaine are closer in taste, so Verlaine often prevails, but where Chuuya won't accept Verlaine's suggestions without inserting his own street urchin, delinquent flourishes, every so often he allows Kouyou to dress, accessorize, and accent him to her heart's desire (especially if she hasn't seen Kyouka in some time).

Chuuya does not, ever, listen to or humor Mori's wardrobe suggestions.

When the Executives convene for a meeting requiring conensus or a quorum, Mori places a maneki-neko in the seat reserved for Dazai as a proxy. (It used to be in Dazai's seat all of the time, but it was repeatedly vandalized, so now Mori otherwise stores it in his desk.)

Chuuya is a workaholic who's leisure is often occupied by engagement with interests relevant to his professional development; Kouyou maintains strict boundaries around her leisure time (namely spent on or to provide for Kyouka), and Mori is only not-working when he's spoiling Elise, although he usually works through that too.

As a result, Chuuya and Mori spend the most time together, and Chuuya is so used to co-working with Mori in Mori's office that he forgets it's not also his.

Chuuya maintains the Port Mafia's relationships with foreign syndicates, contacts, and illicit trading partners. This is for several reasons: he's a polyglot, and it furthers and maintains his other languages; Kouyou thinks it's good for him to practice diplomacy and negotiation; Mori is aware the organization prefers Chuuya as his heir and wants him well established with their business partners should Chuuya succeed him; Chuuya has friends in Europe he enjoys visiting when the role requires travel; and it deters malicious foreign interest in the Port of Yokohama since Chuuya reminds those who don't consider Japan a world power in the aftermath of the Great War that Yokohama is stewarded by a hot tempered guard dog who can control the most astronomically influential fundamental force theorized by physics.

Chuuya's half-mullet is a reference to both Verlaine's side ponytail and Kouyou's half-bangs.

Mori is asexual.

the Agency

The Agency office has a spare room that Fukuzawa has furnished and decorated to be a relaxing reprieve for mindful repose. The Zen room, colloquially. Dazai uses it to masturbate at work, Ranpo uses it as a spare pantry, Yosano has appropriately pointed out it should be a lactation room for accessibility and equity but uses it to read and write erotica when bored, Kunikida uses it for the nervous breakdowns he doesn't want the others to see (and to smoke), Kenji has never once needed it, Tanizaki and Naomi use it for unspeakable acts, Kyouka uses it for shikantaza as Fukuzawa intended, and Atsushi isn't aware it exists.

Atsushi isn't allowed to have prolonged screen time because Kunikida thinks he's too impressionable, which is why Kunikida won't let him have a smartphone or a tablet. He's going to be very annoyed when he learns that Ango allowed Atsushi to use his tablet unsupervised during the Hunting Dogs arc.

Atsushi doesn't know about bills, pensions, or investment portfolios because Kunikida is maintaining his for him without him noticing. (Kunikida intends to teach him about each and transition small responsibilities, but only once Atsushi turns 20.)

Kunikida also maintains Dazai's, or at least he tries. Dazai keeps finding the accounts and draining them on sake, gambling, elaborate attempts to tease others, and impulse purchases.

I do not think Dazai has any savings from the Port Mafia; I think he spent what he had during the two years he was in hiding, and that he's never been capable of resisting ridiculous purchases for elaborate machinations. Like, he once paid a man who took the same train as Kunikida every day to stand near Kunikida and sneeze without covering his mouth at the exact same time every day for almost a year. Then, on a day when Kunikida had several important meetings, Dazai asked the man to sneeze 37 seconds later than usual. It ruined Kunikida's entire day; he had to take paid time off to recover from the aftermath.

Yosano treats Kunikida like a little brother and nurtures and chides him. She doesn't baby him, though, because he responds best when he has high expectations to meet and because he externalizes his frustration in a way she genuinely doesn't have the patience to tolerate. This is to his benefit; it humbles him and keeps him from becoming too condemnatory and punitive.

Dazai and Yosano slept together when he first joined the Agency. They haven't since, but they have a mutual understanding that she can and does use (i) his self-flagellating, psychosexual attraction to her and (ii) his habit of objectifying competent, compassionate women as victims of his attraction to manipulate him for his self improvement and her sometimes sexual gratification. He's usually fine with it; she doesn't when he isn't.

They're also aware that they sometimes remind the other of Mori (well before they became aware of each other's pasts with him) so they maintain a level of emotional and physical distance to protect themselves and each other. Mostly, this distance is pre-calculated and mutually respectful. But sometimes it's not; sometimes, it's punitive and petty.

Yosano and Dazai have never explicitly negotiated any of the above, nor have they ever needed to. This is another way in which they remind each other of Mori, and so their synchronity ensures their distance.

Atsushi thinks Kyouka is under his care, but Kyouka and the rest of the Agency know that he's under hers.

Tanizaki's feigned harmlessness is to deflect attention and scrutiny, but it's also part of his 24/7 BDSM relationship with Naomi.

Dazai is the only stray cat Fukuzawa knows better than to smother, which is why Dazai may wander but will always slink his way home.

Atsushi's selectively acute perceptiveness into the hearts of others renders Dazai unusually vulnerable and bare in such a way that Dazai covets. But it's also why Dazai frets enough about Atsushi's perception of him that he changed clothes before seeking him out and tried to explain himself at the end of Dead Apple. That Atsushi didn't need him to is why Dazai wanted to; Atsushi engenders a drive in others to meet his faith in them energetically and with sincerity. He has no idea that he has this impact on others; which is why Lucy and Akutagawa also want to drown him.

There are enough spare dorms that Kyouka and Atsushi don't need to share; Fukuzawa, Ranpo, Yosano, Kunikida, and Dazai just all agreed that Atsushi and Kyouka would be happier and do better if maintained as a pair. And Dazai thought it would be funny to lie.

etc., Etc.

Kouyou speaks, acts, and dresses like an oiran in reference to irl!Kyouka's favorite and most consistent character archetype. Non-coincidentally, irl!Kyouka's preference for writing seductive, powerful, maternal, victimized, narratively damned women characters was Oedipal in nature.

Dazai's skill, like Kyouka's, was transferred to him, which is why he's incapable of controlling it as effectively as other touch-based skill users like Hirotsu and Chuuya control theirs. Dazai's skill was transferred to him by Natsume and is a fragment of Natsume's own skill (his nine lives, so to speak).

Skills are shaped by and manifest in response to their users' intense and often unmet or insecure needs and desires. Much like any coping mechanism, they're constructs as deeply ingrained as personalities once formed.

Kyouka and Dazai's limited control over their abilities is a psychological barrier rather than a matter of in-universe physics.

Atsushi is the white tiger, Akutagawa is the azure dragon, Dazai is the black tortoise, and Chuuya is the vermillion bird. They're the four symbols, and they embody four of the five phases (while grappling with the fifth).

Natsume brought Dazai to Mori, and followed Dazai to Fukuzawa.

Ango, Kunikida, and Chuuya have a group chat to coordinate the keeping and care of Dazai, but Ango is habitually kicked and then begrudgingly allowed back in.

Agatha Christie directs the Order of the Clock Tower from where she's imprisoned in the Elizabeth Tower (nèe the Clock Tower, misnomer Big Ben). This is less a headcanon and more a substantiated theory— if you notice, the room Agatha Christie is always depicted as being inside in the manga has wood panels that are reminiscent of the oak paneled walls of the irl prison room in the irl Elizabeth Tower. The anime iteration more generally references elements of the Elizabeth Tower's Gothic Revival design in the room's symmetrical and ornate carved details, decorative moldings, arches, tracery, vaulted ceiling, heavy and curved and elaborately patterned furniture, etc., etc. Her skill being called And Then There Were None and her cold, calculating, sadistic personality also suggest she takes after Judge Wargrave, who was both the righteous condemner and among the righteously condemned.

As for your irl fact: Akutagawa Ryuunosuke's children did not call him dad; they called him Ryu-chan.