#who are urs anon?

[hinamie]

mentor

[ghostextremist]

who are your favourite characters in lcdp? :D

Nairobi and The Professor!!! They are soooooo my beloveds

[shouyuus]

okay…okay TRULY SORRY (am not) for adding onto shirtless sleeper hc once again buuut roommate!Vi waking up hours after the encounter to an empty apartment and a lightbulb-bright idea — it’s been sooo long since she’s made you blush this hard and worried she’s been losing the knack of it, but now it’s like you’ve given her a whole new arsenal of ideas to turn you pretty pink

cue to you running into a various degrees of undressed vi in your apartment in the upcoming weeks (all instances paired with grinning, half-assed excused like ‘i just got out of the shower, i running was hot, i just got a new tattoo, i needed to check my form etc etc)

(pls everyone put ur hands together for our lord and savior the shirtless sleeper anon -- they're single-handedly feeding us all)

18+, mdni, college roommate!vi cinematic universe

college roommate!vi who walks out of the bathroom, steam billowing out behind her, a tiny pink-stained towel wrapped around her waist (it's so low it's seconds from falling off), oh so casually bumping into you in the hallway, her hair still damp and trickling water down her neck and the tattoo snaking up her shoulder, her skin gleaming with steam --

"oops, sorry princess -- forgot to bring a shirt into the shower --"

but makes no move to cover her tits. you jerk your eyes up to her face, your own cheeks burning.

"n-no sorry i -- uh, i came back from study group a bit earlier than i thought it would uhm -- i should've texted or something --"

"no biggie, princess. so, did study group go well? you were complaining about some asshole last week who --"

but you really can't focus bc did she change her nipple piercings out? those don't look like the same ones from --

"hello? earth to pretty girl?"

"uhhhhh -- sorry?"

vi has the audacity to smirk as you blink rapidly, swallowing hard, finally looking back up at her.

"i just asked you a question, sweetness. gonna answer me or...?" her eyes flicker down to her own tits.

you feel the inexplicable urge to slam your face into the hallway wall.

"sorry uhm i just remembered i've got -- an assignment that i -- sorry --" you push passed her, shouldering into your room and slamming the door, pressing your back to it the moment it's closed and sliding down to the floor. faintly, you hear the sound of vi's little chuckle as she walks into her own room, but you never hear the door close. a second later, loud rock music starts blasting and you let out a long breath.

barely three days later, you find college roommate!vi lounging on the living room sofa with a vape and what looks like fresh black boxers, the white waistband accentuating the muscles of her abs, her eyes a little hazy as you walk in and nearly drop your books at the sight.

"hey sweets -- can you do me a favor and grab that charger cord?"

you stare for a few seconds before glancing at the white usb-c cord not even a foot away on the dining table. gingerly, you reach over and hand it to her, trying very hard not to look down at her chest, at the way her nipple rings catch the dim light when she breathes in and out.

she lets a puff of smoke wreathe out from her lips, sucking in through her nose.

"mm -- thanks cupcake. this thing was getting low."

"r-right..." you press your thumbs into your workbook, the plastic cover crinkling beneath your touch; you glance up at the cracked window before letting your eyes wander back to vi, still sitting half-naked on the couch, "uh... is the fan broken? or..."

"huh? nah -- i just always run hot. y'don't mind, do you, sweets?"

you chew on your lower lip for a second before shaking your head and making your way across the room.

"it's -- it's fine. just -- uhm -- just close the window after you're done, okay?"

vi catches you eye and winks, letting out another thin stream of smoke from between her lips. and, not for the first time, you wonder how they'd taste, if they'd be soft enough to kiss.

and then not even a week after that, you catch college roommate!vi working out in her room, but at least she's got a sports bra on this time, the only thing is, she leaves her door wide opened, whereas before, she'd at least close it enough to only leave a sliver.

you catch yourself pausing at the sight, at the flex of her forearms as she curls a set of bright pink weights, at the thick tug muscle in her shoulders and back as she puffs out a breath, sweat slicking down the long expanse of her back tattoo.

you swallow.

"might wanna take a picture. heard they last longer."

you squeak, jumping back only for your back to hit the tv stand behind you, nearly knocking it sideways. you reach out to steady it, turning around to find vi watching you with a smirk the size of texas slung across her lips.

"i -- i was just --" you flounder for something to say -- you'd wanted to ask her something, what was it? "a few friends and i are going out tonight -- uhm... i was wondering if -- if you wanted to come with us?"

vi finishes her last rep, setting down the weights. you feel yourself hiss out a breath you hadn't even remembered holding. your head feels light as she makes her way over to you, leaning up against the doorframe with an easy grin.

"sure. but on one condition."

you frown, blinking up at her storm-gray eyes. but in the halfway light of your shared apartment, you could swear that just sometimes, they look like the palest shade of blue.

"what... condition?"

she cocks her head, making no move to hide the way her eyes flick from your eyes to your lips and back up again.

"don't let anyone else make you blush like that tonight, hm?"

[elitisim]

FADES WAVES AND TAPERS -CONVERSION COLLECTION

So I recently reached 500 followers, which is like CRAZY because I've only been posting content for a month?! The overwhelming amount of love and support I've received over the past month has made me misty-eyed on more than one occasion, ngl. Y'all have been so sweet and so wonderful and so extremely encouraging, I'm so proud to be part of this community💙! So, as a little thank-you present for everyone and as a nice end-cap for all the black male hair spam I did for Black History Month I've decided to drop a conversion collection of 21 male hairs themed around waves, fades and tapers for y'all!

Thank you so much everyone!

INFO:

None of this is my original work! All credit goes to @ceeproductions, @estrojans, @hellagoodsims,@xxblacksims, @xldsims, @pralinesims, & @mathcopesims.

Set contains 21 hairs for for Teen ➤ Elder Males

all of these hairs are gameplay safe! most of them are around 500 polys, the largest ones clock in at about 5k poly at most.

1024x textures

hairs are too short for root/tip controls so they're only 2 channels

credits, preview pictures, links to originals, poly counts and individual download links for every hair is under the cut.

these are meshes! the hair is NOT painted on the sims head like BG hairs!

but on the brightside that means they don't get that shiny look painted on hairs have.

some hairs have slight clipping issues around the temples but hopefully nothing too crazy tbh.

Tagging: @pis3update, @naturalhair-sims3, @xto3conversionsfinds, @kpccfinds

[DOWNLOAD MERGED]

[DOWNLOAD UNMERGED]

[PICK AND CHOOSE]

CREDITS:

@ceeproductions: Taper Fade // 1.9k Poly // [Download Here] @estrojans: Sharp Waves Redux Curve // 500 Poly // [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: Afro Short // 4.3k Poly // [Download Here]

@estrojans:: Sharp Waves Redux: Temp Fade// 500 Poly// [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: Brian Waves// 4.3k Poly // [Download Here] @estrojans: Sharp Waves Redux// 500 Poly // [Download Here]

@estrojans: Sharp Waves Redux: Flame Design// 500 Poly // [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: Amaru Fade// 2.1k Poly // [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: AD Taper Fade // 5.1k Poly // [Download Here]

@hellagoodsims: Caesar Fade / /500 Poly // [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: Taper with Long Part //500 Poly// [Download Here] @mathcopesims: Kevin Hair / 500 Poly// [Download Here]

@hellagoodsims: Korey Fade // 500 Poly // [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: PG-15 Waves // 500 Poly // [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: PG-13 Waves // 500 Poly // [Download Here]

@hellagoodsims: Wolverine Claw Fade // 500 Poly // [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: PG-14 Waves // 500 Poly // [Download Here] @hellagoodsims: Lance 720 Waves // 500 Poly // [Download Here]

@pralinesims: Nonstop Buzzcut // 500 Poly // [Download Here] @xxblacksims: Waves on Swim // 500 Poly // [Download Here] @xldsims: The Vindicator // 2.5k Poly // [Download Here]

[cutie-lumi]

Cosmic 💐🌟

[ladydisofdurin]

“Keikaku means plan”-ass writing motherfucker lmao just say funeral

Ur mad at for me for using the correct word for the traditional funeral rite in a culture I was specifically talking about?  ✨ eat shit ✨

[beescake]

i am in love with your sollux i think

sollux love party :]

if you’re interested heres some of my personal fondness thoughts on him.. big warning for the mega long read ahead aye

as we alr know sollux's rejection of participation somewhat mirrors dave's rejection of heroism, but even without getting cooked to completion i still find sollux's character v compelling beyond the fourth wall

as someone who doesnt get a pinch of that Protagonist Sparkle to begin with, he can openly say he wants to leave anytime…. and unlike dave, he actually Can leave the scene anytime. but he can never be truly Free from the story via permanent character death like the other trolls.

his irrelevancy is indeed relevant - he’s there so u can point him out.

while his image is intended to be a relic of past internet subculture, his role is not only about hehehaha being a Chad or a 2000s cyberforum 2²chan haxxor ragequit gamebro.

his continued existence also happens to add a Bit to the overarching themes of homestuck! a Bit that gives him longer-lasting thematic relevance compared to the trolls who could’ve had more character potential but didnt get to survive beyond the main story.

the Bit in question:

his defiance contributes to the illusion of agency (treating characters = people with autonomy). he’s “aware” of it, and that recognition is worth noting enough to forcibly keep him alive as both reward and punishment.

considering how his personality & classpect is designed its definitely a very haha thing for hussie to do LOL. he’s made to be op asf so he's resigned to doing dirty work, gradually deteriorating along the way but never truly dying. as fans have mentioned before, him openly rejecting involvement after a while of grim tolerance is like if the sim u were controlling suddenly stopped, looked up and gave u the finger while u were step six into the walkthrough for Every Possible Sim Death Animation.

but since he’s just a sim… the more he hates it, the more you keep him around. if ur sim started complaining abt your whimsical household storyline you’d definitely keep that little fuck.

but yeah i like that sollux is just idling. the significance of his presence being that one dude who's always reliably Somewhere, root core Unchanged, no individual ambitions (possibly due to fear of consequence?), and design-wise: a staple representative product of his time.

compared to dirk's character, who has aged phenomenally well into the present (themes of control + AR + artificial intelligence, clearer exploration around navigating relationships/sexuality, infinite possibilities of self-splinterhood and trait inheritance), sollux's potential is really... contained. bitter. defeatist. limiting and frustrating in the way old tech is.

the world continues moving on to shinier, brighter, more advanced automated things - minimalist and metaverse or whatever but sollux is still here 🧍‍♂️ going woohoo redblue 3d. (tho personally i imagine his vibe similar to what the kids call cassette futurism on pinterest mixed w more grimy grunge insectoid influences eheh)

conceptually-speaking,

at the foundation of it all, the rapid pace of modern development was built off the understanding of ppl like sollux in the past, who were There actively at work while the dough was still beginning to rise

thats one of the cool things abt the idea of trolls preceding humans! the idea that trolls like sollux excelled back when lots of basic shit still needed to be discovered, building structures like networks and codes from scratch, and humans will eventually inherit and reinvent that knowledge in ways that become so optimized it makes the old manual effort seem archaic, slow, and labour-intensive.

but despite information/resources/shortcuts being more accessible now, much of the new highly-anticipated stuff released on trend still end up unfinished, inefficient, or expiring quickly due to cutting corners under severe capitalistic pressures

meanwhile, some of the old stuff frm past generations of thorough, exploratory and perfectionistic development still remains working, complete, and ever so sturdy.

those things continue to exist, just outside our periphery with either:

zero purpose left for modern needs (outdated/obsolete)

or

far too important to replace or destroy, bcs of its surprisingly essential and circumstantial usefulness in one niche specific area.

which are honestly? both points that sum up sollux pree well.

dramatic ending sorry. anw are u still on the fence or are u Sick abt him like me </3

[bananafire11]

if its no trouble could you draw a balding jax? :o i would love to see him balding from the top of his pretty purple head!!! just specifically on top of it thank you

I... hope i delivered

[jewelleria]

I know it's not how you rationalize it to yourself, but your posts about Israel/palestine come off as a support of the destruction of Gaza and ethnic cleansing of Palestinians. Insisting that it's a war (Palestine isn't allowed to have an army, and Israel cannot claim self-defence against a territory they occupy), denying that Israel is at fault, obscuring support of Palestine in general as being motivated by antisemitism - it paints a picture.

At least 30 000, probably closer to 100 000 Palestinians have been killed as of now. That is so monumentally worse than anything currently happening to Israel / zionists. So when you spend most of your energy focusing on those wrongs, or insisting that people talking about Palestine should focus on them, it comes off as brushing it off or trying to diminish its importance.

You don't have to answer, as I'll be blocking you, but I'm asking you to please consider what you're willing to support, excuse or tone down, and why. I know what it's like to be too focused on the discrimination we're facing to really take in what other groups might be going through.

hey anon, that's some great useful idiot syndrome you got there. how much college debt did you go into to earn it?

[crsssie]

Concept: Jaime having a lot of left over adrenaline from a fight so he fucks the reader up against the nearest wall

post-fight. - jaime reyes x reader (nsfw warning!)

it happens more often than Jaime admits, but less often than you complain to him about it for.

Jaime has you pressed against the back of the wall in some run-down alleyway, only half of his suit deactivated as he's rutting into you desperately, the sweat and blood still on the back of his armor, his sweat running down his sides as you cling onto his biceps for life, exhausted panting and whimpers slipping past your lips as you stare at him disappear into you with a lewd squelch each time.

"I'm sorry." He whimpers into your ear. "You just— looked so good, mi vida, I just—"

You moan as he presses his lips to yours, desperate to muffle the moans coming out of your mouth, yet wanting to keep listening to them. Maybe swallowing them would work.

It doesn't, but Jaime does get the reward of you biting his bottom lip as he feels you spasm around him, your orgasm ripping through your body as you gush around him, and Jaime only speeds up to chase after his own high, pulling from your lips to tell you how pretty you were, whimpering and moaning quietly over you, eyes raking your body to see how dazzling you were when covered in a layer of sheen from the sweat.

and when he feels his own orgasm rip through him, chest pressed to yours as he gasps into your ear, he makes sure to clean you up, tongue pressed to your you, drunk on the taste of you and him mixed together, hums from his chest shooting up your spine and causing your fingers to fly to his hair, whimpering.

and when he finishes, his suit finally comes off completely as he holds you in his arms, mumbling into your ear about how good you were for him, how he was sorry for taking the adrenaline out on you again, pressing you to his chest as he lets you fall limp in his hold and get some well-deserved rest, he presses a kiss to your forehead and takes care of the rest. After all, it's the least he can do for you.

reblogs are appreciated ( •́ω<;)✧

[hinamie]

someone asked if i had ever drawn gojo with his scars, now i have :>

[choccy-milky]

Im here to confess that my brain has a genuine reaction each time I see a drawing of Sebastian with anything black around his wrist. Idk why but I love it when he has a watch or when he’s wearing those black bracelet things

LMAOO SAME ANON...idk why this is, but it just is😩 (i blame rodrick heffley)

@writingsoftarnishedsilver aw THANK YOUU!! im glad you like my art and that you've joined the collective brainrot here on tumblr BAHAH🥰 ik theres been some hubbub lately but the fandom is rly nice and welcoming i promise!!🙏i hope u have a good time here and dont feel intimidated or scared or anything!🥹💖

@kaviary-blog THANK YOU MY SWEETIE DARLING😭💖💖ILL KEEP BEING UR BUDDY AS LONG AS I BREATHE😤u couldnt get rid of me if u wanted to.... but ty again for the positivity and support this was so sweet and i am sending all of that energy back at u!!🫵🫵🫵🫵💖💖💖

@fulminare-within-her-soul aw THANK YOUUU that means so much especially coming from another writer!!🥹💖 AND YES OF COURSE CLORA WOULD LOVE TO AND ID BE HONOURED!!! nobody has to ask permission to draw clora EVER. im fr, yall could seriously draw her doing ANYTHING and id be like... hell yea, thats my girl, look at her😎👍 bahaha THANK YOU AGAIN AND YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL NIGHT/DAY AS WELL💖💖💖

THANK YOU ALL IM GLAD U LIKE MY ART!!🥹😭💖 @dariliondar-blog the program i use is clip studio paint and the brush i use (for lineart) is a clumsy pen from the assets store! ive been using this pen since the very beginning/for all of my lineart, i just love it idk, its easy to control and i like the texture, tho it can be a bit rough/messy. though another lineart pen i started dabbling with recently that i really like is bulky g-pen, i used it for my 9 page comic and really like it!! for colouring though i use different brushes literally EVERY time bc im so inconsistent/indecisive 😭so i cant help you there im sorry BAHAH 🙏

[hungharrington]

Mean!steve during your no nut challenge somehow convincing you to lift your skirt and show him how wet you are and he’s sooo annoying. Cooing at you like he’s clueless why you’re so wet, playing with the ribbons of slick around your thighs, pushing your folds apart and blowing cool air over you, pushing them back together and chuckling when his thumbs slip

KGJDJSHSHALCISHJDUFJAHSHSH

I DONT THINK U CAN JUST SAY THAT TO ME???? ARE U KIDDING??? @stevenose come get ur mean!steve juice i swear this shit is DNFJFJDJDJ

god it would be like he starts getting snarky about how he can’t actually hide when he’s turned on like you can, how of course you get make all your teasing comments about his tented jeans but it’s not an even playing field— so you’re like uh huh. totally. and what can i do about that?

and steve smirks like you’ve walked exactly into his trap and says, wear a skirt so i can check. you burn hotly but can’t think of any proper reason why you shouldn’t that wouldn’t also apply to steve too, considering all you’ve made him do so far— so you do.

it somehow sets you on edge more, more keyed up than usual at the knowledge you’ve granted steve at least one chance in the night to ‘check’ — and god does he bide his time. he winds you up so tantalisingly, so teasingly, keeps brushing his hands up against the edge of your skirt, touching lightly at your thighs, even pulls you onto his lap and bounces his knee subtlety, his big hands pulling your waist down.

and you’re trying to get him back, trying to rock back quietly because you can’t let him get the upper hand— and you’re determined when you push him into one of the bedrooms, so sure you can get back on top— when he leans back on the bed all lax and twirls his finger with a little whistle, eyes on your skirt. i think it’s time for a check he says, his hand dropping to grab his obvious boner and rocking into it lightly. you can see mine, why can’t i see yours?

and fuck, why does it make you so flustered to pull the hem of your skirt up, to make you flush so hotly inside when he grabs your thighs and tugs you closer to the edge of the bed, wasting no time in running his thumb down the centre of your very soaked panties. aw look, he coos, see she’s excited to see me. and then he slides a hand down to grab your calf and hoists it onto the bed, nearly tipping you over in the process at the shift in position. you’re about to make a snarky comment when he puts his thumbs on your panty lines and pulls outward, spreading your folds with a sticky sound.

steve, you mean to chide but it comes out to whiny — and he grins about it, pretending to be clueless as he runs his thumb down the middle of your panties again, watching your hips twitch forward and laughing as they do. his eyes flick up, watching your face as he blows cold air over your cunt, a pleased chuckle coming out at the way you quiver.

isn’t this checked enough? you ask all breathily and steve murmurs, just one more thing and pulls your panties to the side in a quick yank, spreading your folds again and letting his thumb settle over where you’re leaking slick— so he can smirk as it clenches around nothing and he can hear your breath hitch, the beginnings of a moan in your throat — just for him to drop his hands and lean back, a picture of calm, the only thing that gives him away is the bulge in his pants that is definitely bigger than when you started

[tansypaws]

mmmmothwing and 15??? if no one has asked that yet

baby, though I've closed my eyes i know who you pretend i am i know who you pretend i am

washing machine heart ; mitski

[yayll]

Soo umm maybe angsty request but a reader who works at the agency but misses her old life? Like, family or her old self. If you wanna and like the idea!! Have fun💕

i know this is a thousand yrs late and i am so sorry abt that but also. thank you for trusting me w this request i rlly took it to heart and i cracked these damn knuckles and hopefully wrote something you'll like :') i had fun, angel. MWAH.

- a little something about emotions and Dazai's way of perceiving yours ~

"Aughhh..."

You're groaning at your desk again, face down and resting your forehead on the cold wooden surface. Lately, it's been the same cycle. You come to work and the day goes by in a blink of an eye, and suddenly... There is nothing else to look forward to but to do it all again tomorrow. It's been tough, with the agency constantly bombarded with cases and quite literally saving the world, you've forgotten to call home every week like you used to. Now it's every other month, if at all.

There are times when you go on your lunch break and think about how ordinary your life used to be, how you used to spend your time doing the opposite of what you do now. Joining the agency was a wonderful turning point in your life and you wouldn't trade it for the world, but sometimes it felt like there was too much happening, you were falling behind and not connecting enough with the foundations that made you, you. It was an overstimulating nightmare.

Your co-workers were so talented and caring and it felt like a family with the way you all worked as a unit and watched out for each other, yet the intrusive thoughts about you never quite fitting in wouldn't leave your mind. Or your face, for that matter.

This is where Dazai knew he had to get involved.

He could tell your mind was elsewhere, and he hated that. You were supposed to be wherever he was, even if you didn't fully know it yet. He constantly perceived you from across the office where he slacked off work as usual, but this time it wasn't to await his next grand revelation... It was to figure out why you seemed so distant. So far, yet so close. You always laughed at his jokes and antics, all a part of his attention seeking persona around the agency, but he could hear the way your laugh seemed to die down in your throat as if it burned to even make a sound. He recognized it as the kind of burn whiskey left behind in his own throat when he had his occasional drinks at Lupin after a particularly hard day. Dazai knew the feeling of ruminating, of feeling stuck in the past and how it could keep you from existing in the present if not dealt with properly. But he wasn't exactly the shining example of dealing with one's feelings, not when he was a walking contradiction, which is why he hesitated to bring this up to you directly.

Of course, that didn't stop him from trying, not when you're groaning so adorably within earshot.

Not when he would do anything for you to drop that fastidious attitude that won't give him the proper time of day. It was pathetic and selfish of him, but it was sincere. With a fixed smile like a Cheshire cat, he prances towards your desk and stands there for a solid minute before you realize the familiar entity looming over you.

You slowly look up, dark under eyes are the first to properly greet him, along with that cute clip in your hair that's barely holding it all together. He thinks you look even cuter this way even if you were at your worst, and that made him feel a tad guilty... just a tad. He clears his throat softly as a deceptively cheerful voice pours out of him.

"Hi! You're looking awfully exhausted today."

You hum, a weak smile adorning your lips. You didn't want to smile at all, but it was a force of habit, so why not use it on the biggest clown you knew?

"Yeah? That's real observant of you, Dazai."

His heart races as you poke back, what a precious creature you were. He responds with faux indignance, rolling his eyes and the whole bit.

"Uh yeah, of course! It's why they pay me the big bucks, silly. You should try being like me sometime."

"Ah, is that the only thing I should try being? Not very original of me, I must say."

His smile drops to a more sly smirk as he shrugs, sighing dramatically while casting his gaze elsewhere for a moment.

You should try to be mine, he thinks to himself.

He doesn't deserve that honor, but it's the truth and he can always count on delusion.

"Eh, who cares about originality? That's what writers use as an excuse to torture themselves. It's no fun, You might as well jump off a bridge with me instead."

You raise an eyebrow at that, your fake smile becoming a bit more genuine now.

"I think I'll pass on that, Dazai."

He pouts, and you hate that he resembles a puppy with the way his eyes comically droop.

"Such a shame. I was hoping we could share that experience together. It would be quite the work bonding exercise, don't you think?~"

You nod, your voice laced with what he hopes is a playful retort, but it is much too deadpan.

"I'm sure it would."

"You know, you're surprisingly hard to torment."

You hum once more, shrugging as you look back down at the files on your desk, unable to hold his dark eyes that seem to penetrate your very soul.

"... Well I suppose I could say the same about you."

Before you know it, you feel his warm breath against your cheek, having leaned down to your level to murmur in your ear. It's velvety and far too intimate for the middle of the workday, tempting like the devil himself.

"Like I said, we could always drown our sorrows in the river. That always helps."

You slowly turn your head to meet his gaze, a slight flush begins to burn your cheeks and you wish you hadn't turned at all. It's sick the way every once in a while he'll test your boundaries to see if you'll let him in, if you'll see past the charm and the self destructive tendencies that might just seal his fate one day.

But you need him right now! And you clearly need a bit more of a push rather than just jokes, so he makes a point to grill you until you have no choice but to run into his hypothetical arms. In that instant, he catches your phone light up, the word 'MOM' is as clear as the red that spreads through your face.

Ah, so that's it.

"Seems like you should take that."

Your eyes widen as you flicker between him and your phone. Shit.

"Maybe later. I'm not really in the headspace for a call right now... Might go out for some lunch and get some air."

"I like air. Perhaps we can get some together? You might have too much and need someone to resuscitate you."

You snort softly and immediately feel embarrassed for being so casual out of your own human weakness. Yet somehow Dazai's ridiculous jokes always manage to get you to play along and forget that very embarrassment.

"CPR involves air, Dazai. You'd kill me in the process."

He clutches his chest, letting out a dreamy breath.

"Ahhh. Romantic, don't you think? I'd follow you immediately, of course~"

You shake your head as you stand up to walk out for your much needed reprieve from the inescapable thoughts you can't shake.

"You're impossible."

He stands back to give you your space and sticks his hands into his coat pockets, beginning to follow right behind you. He taps your shoulder when your back is fully turned to him, clearing his throat as he says your name in the most sinful way.

"Ahem. You forgot your phone."

You freeze in your tracks. You want to so badly do what your mind is screaming to do, but you can't bring yourself to do it. The battle between wanting to grab that bit of normalcy you miss and wanting to avoid it like the plague is the fear of the commitment to acknowledge it. You slowly turn to face him holding out your phone for you and yet again... It stings when he looks at you like that. Like he actually cares. It makes you feel drunk on the sensation of being seen on a deeper level, the butterflies in your stomach keep saying so. You sigh, and mumble back.

"Leave it. I don't need it right now."

He steps a little closer, way too close for comfort. His voice drops to a more serious tone, yet it's nothing but gentle, firm. It's a Dazai you don't think you've ever heard except when on a mission. Even then it always felt performative. But not now. He takes your hand in his bandaged one and holds it out for a moment with your palm facing up. His desire for you to make amends with your troubles is far more important than proper customs, so he needs to do this and do it now before you drown any deeper and he loses his self control.

He can save you even if you're too stuck in your own self pity to see the brightness of your own future. How you shine like a diamond in the rough, if only you'd just let yourself live in the now. He whispers to you.

"I think she'd like to know how you're doing. Family, they're the only normalcy you can have sometimes... Especially in this line of work. I think you know that."

You gaze into his dark eyes, and for the first time are not afraid to hold eye contact as you realize you actually want to hear more. Finally, a real piece of him is being shown to you?

"... Is that something you relate to, Dazai?"

He almost winces at that, a flashback of two friends he once considered family flash into his mind. Maybe today is a Lupin day. He could imitate your angelic laughter as the whiskey burns his throat. He hides all of this with a nasty little smirk, elusive as ever as he lies through his teeth.

"Absolutely not."

You seem a bit disappointed at first, but before you can dwell on it too much, your thoughts flicker back to the phone call you realize it might be time to make. Your mood is instantly different. Hopeful, even. Dazai places your phone in your palm, slowly closing your hand into a small fist. His hand lingers on top of your knuckles for a second too long, and you realize you are, in fact, unable to keep looking him in the eye like this or else you might just collapse knowing he'd catch you. The concept alone is intoxicating.

"I'm gonna take this, okay?"

His smirk softens, almost boyish with the way he instantly relaxes and reverts back to his usual self. The mood shifts back to how it felt before, and Dazai nods in reassurance.

"You go get some air. I'll be here."

He waves you off as you flash him one last smile before exiting the office. That'll keep him going for a while, he thinks. You look so beautiful when you're full of life, he hopes it rubs off on him too. He stands there for a long time in deep thought, simply smiling at the floor. At some point your hair clip fell out without you noticing, and so he picks it up, pocketing it. He'll consider this the consummation of your relationship.

An hour passes by and you walk back into the office, eager to tell Dazai about your call back home and how refreshed you feel. That he was right, and you wanted to share this new found perspective that he helped you approach and conquer. You find the office is completely empty, and when your eyes glance at your desk, there's a sticky note left on one of the many trinkets you display on it. You read it out loud to yourself.

"You long for the past, so perhaps we can recreate it. Maybe a nice long walk by the river, or we could always try a more private solution.

Either way, I'm at your mercy.

- Osamu"

You can't help but want to kick your feet at the little heart he doodled next to his messy handwriting and make a mental note to properly give him your contact info next time. You'd make sure to take a call from him, because you know he'd make it worth your while.

He always does.

[cqsuanla]

say smth nice to me honey // i love you please i-

pairing: (dark?)nat/f!reader

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, and you blink your eyes open, staring down at her blearily. “I just want to hurt you so bad, baby.”

notes: legit don't remember writing this or if i posted this before. posting it the way i found it in my notes app (except added bullets for non-prose sections)

If you hadn’t already known Nat’s certifiably insane then her idea of what constitutes a reward would have done a good job of convincing you. It’s really quite twisted but everything is, with her. All you’d done was offer to make dinner—and a mediocre one at that—and she’d taken it to mean you were finally accepting your circumstance, so here you are: sweaty, panting, naked, of course. And denied. Four times denied. Some fucking reward.

Your nails dig into the back of her hand, fingers interlocked with hers. She doesn’t even wince. “Please,” you say sounding suitably wrecked. “Nat, please, please, please-”

She groans into your cunt, her breath hot and moist, and— gone because she pulls away just as you’re toeing the edge. Tears spring to your eyes. Maybe you scream; you’re not sure, awareness shot as it is.

“Why?” you ask, and you keep asking, crying, begging.

She shushes and coos at you, stroking your sweat-damp forehead. “It’ll feel good in the end,” she keeps telling you.

And you believe her. It’s always all right in the end; one way or another, Nat always makes you like it by the end, but before then, it feels so very-

“Bad. It feels bad,” you moan out.

You wish you could just shove her face back down but she’s got both your hands linked with her vice grip. You think she must have known you’d get frustrated enough to entertain taking charge, known that you might even have had the gall to try it if she didn’t have you restrained. When she’d demanded to hold your hands before she went down on you, you’d actually been quite endeared by her. Oh, how quickly that particular emotion fled from you.

“Last one, then. Just one. You’re such a good girl for me. My pretty baby.” Nat crawls up your body and cradles your head in her hands. Your shared body heat is nearly unbearable right now, but she makes it better. Always makes it better. She kisses you, pets you, and combs your hair. Lets you whimper into her shoulder, teeth scraping at her skin with every pant you huff out. “You can take one more, sweetheart. I know you can, obedient little thing. My good fucking girl,” she rasps into your neck.

Fuck if that doesn’t do it for you. Still: “I’m too sensitive.”

She traces a tear track with the back of her finger, licks up the streak on the other side of your face. So sadistic, your Nat. “I know.”

For the next few moments: silence aside from your persisting hiccups and her ragged breathing. Her excitement, her morbid fascination with the limits of your boundaries, is palpable. Infectious in a way. You do want to be good for her. For her. Your lover, keeper, owner, mommy.

She always takes care of you.

Slowly, you calm. Then, you grip the back of her shirt and, in a small voice: “Just one? Promise?”

She hums, hands reaching out once again to lace with yours. “Just one, sweet girl.”

You’re not sure if you trust her. Regardless, you have no real say in the matter.

“Okay.”

On her way down, she lays kisses down your chest, your navel, the height of your pubic bone. She tuts and you make a pathetic keening sound.

“Down, baby.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and, when her thumbs keep pushing insistently into the bones of your hips, you slump fully into the mattress with a soft groan. You receive punishment for that in the form of a nip to your inner thigh. Your skin, tender and bruised already from her previous attention, sinks under the points of her teeth and you yelp.

But then her mouth moves up and the slick heat of her mouth meets the one between your legs, forging a brain-melting fire in your center. You’re overstimulated to the point that you can’t tell if you’re really experiencing those aching, throbbing sensations or if it’s some sort of phantom feeling your overshot nerves are expecting. After all, Nat’s just ghosting her lips over your cunt, tip of her tongue teasing up the curve of your labia. Mewling in the way she likes, tensing and squirming your legs around her shoulders, does nothing to encourage her. She just keeps fucking with you, not enough literal fucking you.

You squeeze her hands until you can’t anymore. She makes a contemplative noise which sends a tiny shiver through you when you think you feel the sound vibrate near your clit. Then, she abruptly dives in, a guttural sound clawing out of her throat into your cunt. The flat of her tongue drags roughly from your leaking hole to your clit, and you can’t think anymore. She keeps groaning with your desperate begging, pleading, and it keeps going directly into your clit when her tongue passes over it.

The world—it’s just Nat. It’s just Nat and you, and the bits of sheets and mattress and corner of pillow that you’re lying on. The damp air where your bodies can’t meet and the sweaty, sticky skin from where you meet. She’s everything; the endless white of a foggy horizon. Something that can swallow you whole. Something you wish would swallow you whole-

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, and you blink your eyes open, staring down at her blearily. “I just want to hurt you so bad, baby.”

It takes you a moment to process that. To process that she is no longer sucking and licking at your cunt like her life depends on it.

Tears prick at your eyes again. Your lip wobbles.

She doesn’t even pretend to comfort you this time. “Oh, you’re pitiful.”

“You promised!” You try to twist away from her, furious and betrayed. Her hands clamp down, bruising. Your stubborn leg kicks at the bed. “Mommy, you promised me. You said-”

“I know what I said,” she cuts you off, an edge to her voice.

You go limp instinctively, yielding, even if you’re still in emotional turmoil. You always end up letting her do what she wants. Even so: “It’s unfair.”

“Nothing’s ever fair,” she mutters into the feverish skin of your thigh, nosing at a bruise she’d left in the beginning. “It’s fun if it isn’t fair. You’re so easy to look at like this, baby. So beautiful this way: used up and crying. Pathetic for me. Good for me.”

“Why?” You stare down at her through a film of tears. In that moment, she cranes her neck so she can rest her cheek on the top of your leg and her eyes catch the glint of the bathroom lights. “Why hurt me? Why me?”

“It feels good. You feel good.” The corner of her lips sharpen into a smile against your leg. “Don’t think too hard. I can make it hurt more.”

You shake your head. How can you even reply to that?

Her smile widens. “Say something nice to me, honey.”

This one is easy. “I love you,” you murmur. Defeat.

“Again,” she rasps, spurred into action again. To the victor goes the spoils. Her tongue covers your entrance, dips in briefly.

“I love you,” you choke out. It’s too much. You wish she’d get this over with. You wish she would keep you here forever.

Her lips wrap around your clit, tongue probing harshly at it, and her hands tug at yours.

You take the hint. “I love you.”

She laves at your clit again, your pained whimpers falling on deaf ears. A tug on your arms.

Again. Again and again and again until you can’t speak anymore. Something inside of you stiffens, then it’s splintering into pieces, and it hurts intensely but it’s nice to let it all go, but you’d never want to go through this again. When you come back to yourself, Nat’s still licking at you but this time, your sound of discontent prompts her to pull back.

“Worth it?” At your head shake, she snorts. “What do you say?”

You take a moment to make sure you’re capable of movement, inhaling sharply and watching the rise of your own chest. Then: “Thank you, mommy.”

“Any time, sweet baby.”

later run ur fingers over the indents in your thigh, mark of her bites

imagery of ambulance driving by outside w the sirens and the blue-red-blue-red of nats skin

it’s like letting the dog socialize with other dogs at the park. but i prefer to keep mine at my feet (kicks u over) …clearly

come along hound

“It’s been a week,” you say quietly, meekly. Your hand tenses on the door knob, searching for something sturdy to hold onto.

“It has,” Nat notes evenly.

She stares and moments pass, her blinking just slow enough to unsettle you.

You shift, mustering the courage to release the handle and shuffle forward a few steps. “Please? You said- it’s been a week. You said you’d take it off in one week.”

“Did I?” Nat raises an eyebrow. “I don’t recall.”

“Mistress, please. Please.”

All of a sudden, her expression sours. She stands. You shrink back, your heel hitting the door loudly and making your heart drop even more.

“Sorry,” you say in a rush.

Contrary to what you expect, she doesn’t round the desk to seize you. Instead, she leans on her desk and pins you with that searing scowl of hers. “Dumb slut. I’ll forgive you when you learn your goddamn lesson, mutt.”

You open your mouth to apologize again but she glares harder and you snap your jaw shut with an audible clack.

“Now get out.”

You do so with haste even if you ache to stay.

leave her alone for a bit obedient af she fucks ur cunt like it’s her job and gives u aftercare and ur like that’s good. duh—nat always knows, that’s why she makes the decisions, she’s in charge always

she shows u a big dildo and is like ur taking it dry and ur like ok and she thinks u finally learned the lesson and tells u to get on ur hands and knees

“Do you get it now?” Nat asks, voice rough, chest heaving. She drapes herself over your back, can’t get enough of you. Her hands roam over your body, grasping at flesh, leaving behind bruises. Runs so hot, you begin to feel sticky from perspiration, uncomfortable but in a kind of familiar way that you immediately embrace in an instinctive response. She’s all around you, cocooning you, possessing you. Squeezes tight. “Do you get it?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

“What do you get?”

Your arms shake from your combined weight. She bears down and smoothly maneuvers you onto your shoulders, arms bent up on the bed in surrender. Her hands tighten around your wrists, demanding your attention.

You soak in the feel of her on top of you. “You know best,” you answer into the duvet. A hand in your hair guides your head to the side. “I just listen.”

Nat hums. You think she sounds pleased. You hope she is. Anyway, by now your over sensitive cunt has produced enough slick around Nat’s cock for this to be somewhat enjoyable no matter how rough she plans to get. Its heavy presence inside you makes you want to squirm, delights you and scares you. You’ll take anything she gives. It’s what you’re for.

“I’m yours,” you say.

And she thrusts suddenly, humping her front into your ass so the head probes farther into your cunt.

You gasp and your fingers stretch out before clawing into the sheets. Yes, you’re wet enough. It hurts, the girth, the length, but you’ll bare it because it’s enough.

“Yes,” Nat hisses on the next thrust. “Your pleasure, pain, all mine.”

You nod, jaw fallen wide as you moan and mewl beneath her. As she forces her way in, stuffing you full, and tears her way out, leaving you empty. Not once does she let up off your back, and you love the feeling of your bodies sliding together, sticking against the friction of your movements.

“I fuck you when I feel like it, baby, in whatever way and for however long I want it. When I tell you to come, you do. When I tell you to sit pretty, you do. When I tell you to shut the fuck up,” she growls into your ear, the front of her body slapping particularly loudly and obscenely into yours on every syllable of those last four words.“You fucking do.”

“Yes.” Your voice sounds foreign, strangled. Your nods are frantic, runny nose rubbing against the sheets. “Yes, yes, yes.”

It’s meant as a response to her words and as encouragement for her to keep going, not that she has any intention to stop.

“Say something nice,” she pants into you. She sounds different too; demanding and harsh, of course, but there’s something desperate about it.

Not that you really register it anyway, since you’re shrieking, “I love you,” before you can even think about it. It’s not something you need to think about. Loving Nat is a fact of life, a part of life. As natural a thing as breathing. As being short of breath. Life is hard and easy, and loving her is the same. It’s being in sweltering heat and frigid cold. It’s too much, way too fucking much, and then, all at once, in the next moment, not enough.

Her teeth close around your shoulder, though not hard enough to break your skin. You’ll bruise, though. She bites deeper on every inward movement. Her mouth is wonderfully moist and warm on your skin.

God.

“I love you,” you cry out feverishly, “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

Indents of her canines remain in your sweat damp skin. Her breath is laboured, adjacent to pained, and it fans across one side of your face. Humid near your ear.

“I’m sorry. Thank you. I love you,” you babble. “I’m yours.”

“I love you,” she says back, over the wet sounds of your fucking. She’s relentless. “My girl. My baby. Come with me, okay? My good girl.”

It hurts. You’re numb. You’re burning up. She pants hotly into your ear, and you pant into your own spittle, face as leaky as your cunt.

Nat lurches in again, your bodies jolting forward, and you slam your eyes shut, seeing nothing but the dark and, briefly, a pang of colours from how hard you’re squeezing them shut. You cum, maybe. The sensation isn’t entirely new, painful and pleasurable at once. You’re pliant in her arms, twitching sometimes, not really feeling anything. And when you come back to life, she’s still going. The world is just this: the feel of her body on yours, the smell of arousal and sweat and spit, and her voice. A voice like tinnitus. A desperate, animalistic mine, mine, mine rings in your ears.