#black women's player collective

[carolmunson]

eddie munson x fem!reader | steve harrington x fem!reader

COMING SOON TO THEATERS. A FANFICTION ADAPTION OF ACADEMY AWARD WINNING FILM 'TITANIC' WRITTEN BY:

@loveshotzz @newlips and @carolmunson

ORIGINAL SCREEN PLAY + FILM WRITTEN AND DIRECTED BY JAMES CAMERON. ALL OF THOSE ICONIC SCENES AND LINES ARE, OF COURSE, CREDITED TO WHOM CREDIT IS DUE: JAMES CAMERON

PREVIEW:

Wednesday, April 10th, 1912 Southampton, London

The blare of the fog horn is unmissable, rattling the conversations in a small pub off the White Star Dock. Even through the dusty windows she was clear as day, big as anything anyone had ever seen. Large black body met with a red base, multiple decks, and four large smoke stacks. The ship seemed to go on forever, her beauty unmatched to anyone who had seen it – a behemoth on the seas. A glory – a masterpiece.

The doors of the pub fluttered open and closed all morning as it edged closer and closer to noon. Pints poured by the dozens, the hundreds – half the country coming to the piers to see off the Ship of Dreams and its passengers. The bar was alight with chatter, mixing in with the roar of people from outside — hundreds of people halfway to boarding, waving and kissing goodbye. Beer glasses clinked and people cheered while they watched a long line of high end cars gleam in the spring sun as they rolled down the dock. Precious cargo full of Europe and America’s elite. 

Reporters and bellhops alike flock to them like flies, pub patrons ogling through the dusty windows while they exit their buggies.

Among the commotion, the endless chatter and screeching of pub seats, sat four men oblivious to the spectacle. They’re sitting around a small table with sweat on their brows as the April sun pours golden over them. Eyes burning over their cards as cigarette smoke wafts over their heads — the players lost in the fog during an intense round of poker.

The pot was mostly meager — a few pounds and swaths of change, a pocket watch, a penknife. But in the center was the crown jewel, a prize that would change the winner’s life forever. Two pieces of pressed parchment reading: 

The men leer over their hands, not a friendly face between them — the tickets were not the dealer’s, but two of the players who had bet the wrong guys. Guys who had been beyond the break and back again, meeting in Morocco, then Paris, and traveling together back to London — guys who had never lost a game of poker. 

Eddie places his bet, pulling a small silver ring off of his right ring finger and tossing it in the center. 

“Are you kidding?” Jeff asks from his left, “That’s everything we have.” 

Eddie grins at him, taking a drag of his cigarette. The sun dances in his big brown eyes like he knows something the rest of them don’t, “When you got nothin’, you got nothin’ to lose.” 

The two other players speak to each other heatedly in Swedish after one of them hits for a new card. The outburst makes it clear that things aren’t looking good for the Swedes — it makes Eddie’s heart leap. Maybe this is it, maybe he’s finally gonna get back to the states. “Sven?” he asks the man next to him. “Hit,” he replies, putting down a card and taking another. Eddie follows suit, furrowing his brow while his bangs meet his eyelashes. Sweat collects on the nape of his neck where his dark curls are twisted up in a graphite drawing pencil – a trick he picked up from women he met in France. He puffs the smoke from his mouth, eyes meeting the Swede across from him who looks like he couldn’t be having a worse day. 

“Alright,” he says, putting his cigarette down on the ashtray between then, “Moment of truth. Somebody’s life’s about to change.” 

He leans back in his chair and looks at his friend, sweat beading at the edge of his hairline and glinting off of his deep skin, “Jefferey?” 

Jeff throws his cards down with a roll of his eyes. “Nothing,” Eddie nods. 

“Nothing,” Jeff says curtly through a grit in his teeth. His heart pounds in his chest while he looks at the last of their money on the table – they can’t afford to lose. 

“Olaf?” Eddie asks, the Swede throws down his cards in a huff, “Nothin’.” 

“Sven?” 

Sven puts down his cards and Eddie frowns, “Oh…two pair.” 

His shoulders droop while he looks at his own cards, eyes lingering on the silver ring in the middle of the table, “I’m sorry, Jeff.” 

“What do you mean ‘sorry’?” You idiot! You bet all of our bloody money! You imbecile, you–”

“I’m sorry, you’re not going to be able to visit your cousins in Paris again for a long time,” Eddie says with a serious edge. Jeff quirks his brow, triggering Eddie’s winning smile behind plush pink lips. 

“‘Cause we’re goin’ to America!” he exclaims, slamming his cards down on the table, “FULL HOUSE, BOYS!” 

Jeff leaps from his chair in the back of the pub, reaching for the tickets on the on the table, “WE’RE GOIN’ TO BACK TO AMERICA!” 

“I’m goin’ home!” Ed exclaims while the boys hug tightly. The pub cheers for them, pints still flowing — men and women with red cheeks having no idea what they’re cheering for until a fight breaks out between the Swedes. 

Eddie laughs, hoisting his bag up over his shoulder and Jeff does the same — their white shirts dirtied with the stains of the day before.

“I can’t believe it,” Jeff says, teeth shining in a grin across his face, “Goin’ back to America!” 

“Titanic’s going back to America, boys,” the barkeep says, pointing at the clock, “In five minutes!” 

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #titanic au #stranger things au #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x reader #steve x reader

[wildandsmile]

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 ☆ 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

🗯️ fem! reader, smut, switch! chishiya, consumption of alcohol and marijuana, light choking, praise, degradation, teasing, porn with plot, a lot of plot, spanking, daddy kink, gradually gets rougher, possessive chishiya, slightly inebriated sex. enjoy.

spoiled. self-centered. intelligent. this woman thinks the sun should rise and set according to her needs. daddy’s girl dumped in the borderlands, left to fend for herself. in this world, it’s kill or be killed, and she was born with a dagger in her manicured hands. serpentine. a striking kind of beautiful, the kind you could drown in, the kind you’d come running for. lethal. that’s how he’d describe her. like a black widow, gorgeous until the bitter end.

(y/n) walked to the log podium and grabbed a phone from it. all eyes on her, as always. the game was that of a puzzle, a thought provoking riddle. she wouldn’t stand a chance. or so he thought. adorned in bracelets, a black mini top and jean shorts, she looked like your average doe-faced lamb, destined to be in the hands of slaughter. she took a few steps back and assessed her competition. a guy who seemed to be in his mid twenties and on the verge of shitting himself, two teenage girls, a teenage boy, herself, a middle aged woman, and.. him.

blonde, unavailable. she caught his eye, he caught hers. he waved. she looked him up and down, taking in all that he had to offer. average height, not like the others. he didn’t drool at the sight of her. didn’t seem to be the slightest bit impressed. she sent a small, polite grin his way. and that was that. the game commenced. she took off her shoes and flexed her toes before she began running. the goal of the game was to collect five metal stars before time ran out. there were fifteen stars hidden in the building, which meant three people would survive. you could take other peoples stars, but you’d have to kill them to do it.

a game of average difficulty, meant to turn man onto man. of course. a guy in his mid twenties, two teenage girls, a teenage boy, a middle aged woman, and him. of the seven original players, three came out victorious. herself, he, and one of the two teenage girls. he caught her eye. she waved. he looked her up and down, gave her a smirk. and that was that.

that was about a month ago. now, (y/n) sat pretty at the beach, an official member. The requirement to be in swimwear at all times didn’t bother her in the slightest. it made her job a whole lot easier. entice, bury, climb. she lied sprawled on a tanning chair by the pool, a mixed drink in one hand, the hand of a poor sap in the other. “beautiful boy,” she’d tell him. “so pretty for me”, she’d say. and that was all it took. some tits and a smile went a long way in this world. any guy, or girl, would easily jump the opportunity to relax in her arms after being on edge one hundred percent of every day. it was hard being lab rats in a maze.

“(y/n).” a stern voice came from above her, as did a shadow, blocking the sun from her body. she raised her sunglasses onto her head and frowned at whoever dared to interrupt her tanning time. “what?” she asked, all attitude and lip gloss. “hatter has requested to see you.” he said. she put a hand over her eyes. it was that.. tall, lanky fellow. keiichi, was his name. or at least she thought it was. “ugh. now?” she whined, pouting her pretty lips. “yes, now.” he mocked her. she frowned. he smirked, satisfied with himself. she leaned over and kissed her newest boy toy on the forehead before swinging her legs over and standing up, letting keiichi lead her to hatter.

“ah, (y/n)! my favorite subject. come in, come in.” hatter announced upon her arrival. she rolled her eyes and keiichi shut the door behind them. hatter had two women on each side of him, kissing him and giggling and shooting her looks that said ‘i have what you can’t’. she didn’t want hatter anyways. yes, he was attractive, but she’d be stupid to get sexually tangled up with him, and stupid was one thing she wasn’t. “what do you want?” she asked, crossing her arms and putting her weight into her left leg, putting her hip to the side. hatter proceeded, “i want you to be one of my executives.”

she blinked once, twice. smiled. “excuse me?” disbelief. “you heard me. i want you to be an executive.” she chuckled despite herself. “why?” hatter rolled his eyes. “if you’re smart, you’ll take the position.” and smart she was. she let hatter give her a new wristband. she was number four. “you will report here every day at ten in the morning and ten at night. am i understood?” she smiled sickeningly sweet. “yes, hatter.” she left the room swaying her hips a little more than usual.

that was three weeks ago. she’d seen the blonde boy, chishiya, multiple times since then. a wave and a grin every time. never anything more. she’d also met a girl named kuina at a game. upon learning she was a beach member, they became friends, and that meant (y/n) saw chishiya much more. still, they never spoke. whenever he was around, she would leave, claiming she had to do something for hatter. she didn’t dislike chishiya, oh no. she disliked how he made her feel. his eyes seemed to possess the ability to see directly through her and she hated it. hated feeling vulnerable, like her being had been opened and dissected for everyone to see. hated that she didn’t know what he was thinking every time he looked at her.

so, here she was. a blonde girl on her left and a brunette boy on her right. she recognized them as some of hatter’s old groupies. the girl held her drink and the boy held her hand, massaging it and babbling nonstop about how pretty she was. she was in the executive commons area, ten o’clock, as she was supposed to be. they had meetings twice a day for various reasons. sometimes they were serious, sometimes they just ripped into each other and joked around. either way, she was always there on time, pretty in pink. she saw the way chishiya had looked at her and her two accessories when he walked in. he smirked like it was funny. whatever.

the meeting went on for thirty minutes, and (y/n) received countless kisses and compliments from her little toys. she’d smile and kiss them back, telling them ‘cut it out, you’ll make me blush’. thirty minutes, she had to deal with being showered in touches and words she didn’t want. but nobody would be any of the wiser, she seemed like she loved it. but he knew.

the moment the meeting was over, (y/n) kissed her toys goodbye and left like her heeled sandals were on fire. she made her way hurriedly out to the pool and to the bar, where she ordered a mixed drink and a lolipop. some flirting with the bartender and a flash of her wristband got her the items for free. she took her drink and her lolipop to the tanning chairs and sat down, gazing upon the people in the pool. the music was obnoxiously loud, the way she liked it to be. it drowned out her thoughts and the idea that other people could be perceiving her the way she perceived them. it didn’t take long for kuina to find her.

“hey!” she said. “hey, sugar.” (y/n) handed her drink to kuina and let her sip from it, the way she always would. kuina laid in the chair next to hers, starting to people-watch. kind of. “did you have to participate in any games today?” “no. did you?” “yeah. me and chishiya.” (y/n) huffed out a little laugh. she’d played three games with chishiya total. he was arguably the luckiest and the smartest person in the borderlands. (y/n) was just smart and fast, a good combination to be.

kuina and (y/n) got about ten minutes together before two of her little toys came running over, whining her name and throwing themselves into her arms. “hello, my lovelies,” she’d say. “you look so pretty for me,” she’d say. they’d coo and kiss her face and hand her drinks and pipes. kuina, by default would get attention too. attention she didn’t necessarily want but was too shy to reject. so they sat together, surrounded by desperate beach members and compliments and alcohol and drugs.

“mama (y/n), can i please..?” a skinny brunette boy asked, giving her doe eyes and holding a small bag. it was cocaine. she knew what he was asking. she nodded and lied back, smirking at him. she watched as the boy placed two lines on her thigh and snorted them up, making her giggle at the tickling sensation. she giggled more at the way the people around them cheered, so amused by the fact an executive would let a lowly member snort drugs off of her body. but of course, the wicked know no peace.

“(y/n).” a rough voice sounded. the brunette sat up and his dazed smile disappeared. he instantly paled and huddled closer to (y/n) like a scared child. she looked up to be met with Niragi’s disgusted yet intrigued face above her, looking at her and her little toy with scrutiny. “yes, niragi?” she said, making her tone high and sickeningly sweet, the way she knew he hated. “don’t play coy with me, whore. you know why i’m here.” she raised an eyebrow, a smile building on her lips. “oh, do i? i guess i might..” she said, pressing her painted fingernail to her lips and biting onto it with a smile. niragi was mad that she had taken his position as fourth. he picked on her for it daily, hoping to eventually scare her into submission. wouldn’t he ever get tired?

“give it up, niragi.”, she cooed, her voice smooth and sweet like a symphony. “it’s not my fault hatter didn’t want you as his rabid lap dog anymore.” at some point, an onlooking crowd had formed, and they collectively made an ‘oh shit’ noise at her words. she saw niragi sneer, felt her boy toy tense up. keeping eye contact with niragi, she leaned over and cradled the boys head against her shoulder, shushing him quietly. “it’s okay, baby, don’t let his rifle scare you. he’s no threat. i won’t let him touch a hair on your pretty little head, okay?”

in the next moment, (y/n) had been grabbed up roughly by her bikini straps and hoisted into the air, being held nose-to-nose with niragi. she could smell him, a mixture of gunpowder, cigarettes and vodka. she smiled in his face. “oh, honey. did i hurt your feelings?” she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. couldn’t hurt her. hatter would have his head on a platter in two seconds flat if she had so much as a bruise. every word she spoke was like a jab to a bear. he grew angrier with each passing second, borderline growling in her face now. “i suggest,” she looked over his shoulder and saw hatter and aguni approaching. she leaned in with a seductive, serpentine glint in her eyes, so close she could kiss him. she licked her lips. “you put me down.”

“niragi.” she was dropped to her feet in an instant, and she couldn’t help the coy grin that played on her lips. the crowd that had formed had grown extremely tense. the tension was thick enough to grab out of the air. the music had stopped, and the main source of entertainment was them. it was silent other than the sound of hatter’s footsteps. he stopped in front of niragi and gazed at him, his face cold and hard. “do we have a problem?” he asked. niragi looked angry enough to spit. but, being smart for once, he swallowed his pride and bit his tongue. “no.” he bit out, flickering an angry, pointed look to (y/n), who was being fussed over by her toys. “are you okay?”, they were asking. “that looked so scary, i was so worried.”, they were saying. “i suggest you go on and mind it.” hatter said. (y/n) paused to watch. both men looked ready to pounce. two, four, five seconds passed before niragi clicked his tongue, turned on his heel, and stormed off. (y/n) chuckled. hatter gave her a look and nodded in her direction, only turning to leave when she returned the gesture.

the crowd dissipated, going off into small groups to discuss what had happened. “oh, (y/n). he’s gonna kill you one day.” kuina said, visibly anxious. “oh, he can try.” (y/n) said, biting the nail of her thumb. she seemed to be thinking for a moment, her eyes glazing over and her teeth toying with her fingernail. “(y/n)! you had me worried sick.” her female toy pouted at her, pressing her boobs against her arm. she turned and smiled, lifting her chin and gazing down at her lips. “i’m sorry, pretty. do you want me to kiss you better?” the girl nodded of course, so (y/n) closed her eyes and pressed her lips against hers firmly, only pulling away when the girl was dizzy and out of breath. the girl giggled like a gleeful child and (y/n) smiled, but she genuinely couldn’t take any more of this.

“i’m going to go to my room now, lovelies.” she said. there were varied reactions, most of them being whining and complaining and pleading with her to stay. she kissed each one of her toys goodbye before turning to leave. “wait!”, one of them called out. she turned around to see the same brunette guy from before holding a small gift bag out to her. “here. for.. uh, yeah.” he smiled shyly, and she felt bad for him. just a little. he reminded her of a little kid with that hopeful, shy gleam behind his hazy eyes. he wouldn’t last very long here. she smiled to him, perhaps the last kind gesture he’d ever receive. “thank you, pretty boy.” she accepted the bag, kissed his forehead and quickly walked away before anybody else could stop her for any reason. she didn’t bother to see what was inside of it.

thankfully, the commons area was surprisingly empty. most people were out by the pool, in the casino room, or their own bedrooms. she thanked whatever god above for that. the sound of her sandals hitting the linoleum floors reverberated against the walls. she made it to the middle of the room, between the two grand staircases before a voice sounded behind her. she was so shocked she almost dropped the gift bag.

“i saw what happened just now.”

she turned around to see chishiya leaning casually against a pillar, that permanent sly smirk on his face. “yeah? what about it?” she asked, a little irritated. she didn’t like to be caught off guard and he had just about scared the piss out of her. “you’re lucky hatter showed up when he did.” she rolled her eyes. “niragi wouldn’t have touched me even if hatter didn’t come.” she grumbled under her breath. she faced him fully now, her arms crossed over her chest. it was silent for the next few moments. chishiya did that thing she hated, saw into her. assessed each detail of her, from the top of her head and her slightly mussed hair down to her pink and white painted toenails.

“why do you let them touch you?” she blinked. “excuse me?” chishiya stepped forward, his hands placed in his pockets. “why do you let them touch you?” he asked again. she stared at him and met that feline gaze, narrowing her eyes. she grinned slowly. “do you smoke?” she asked. he shook his head no. “do you drink?” he shrugged. she looked him up and down, the way she had when they first met. she smirked and turned around, starting towards the stairs. she began the ascent and looked over her shoulder with a sultry glint in her eye. if he was smart, he’d follow.

and that he did. she opened the door to her assigned hotel room and welcomed him in, propping a door underneath the handle the moment they were both inside. she couldn’t have a lock on her door, but she could still block it. she didn’t want anyone coming inside while she was sleeping. then again, they’d have to have a death wish to pull something like that with her. her room was a basic, cozy lovers suite. only the best for an executive. she had decorated it with pink liquor bottles and diamond jewelry, mostly gifts from her toys. she plopped down on her neatly made bed and sighed, smirking in amusement at the way chishiya stood awkwardly in the furthest corner from her.

“i don’t bite. come sit down.” she motioned to the extra chair next to her bed. he slowly walked over and sat down, surprised to discover that the chair spun. he seemed to enjoy that. he silently swayed himself side to side while (y/n) tore into the gift bag she had been gifted, delighted to find a pink mini pipe and a little bag full of grade-a marijuana. “awe, fuck yeah man.” she said, happy as could be. she typically hated her toys, but she loved the gifts they gave. she began packing the bowl as neatly as she could, making sure it was a good one. she lit the bowl and took her first hit, a small one. she didn’t want to get white girl ratchet with chishiya in her room.

“want some?” she offered. he shook his head no. she shrugged. “you never answered my question.” he persisted, his voice calm and even, a satisfied feline expression on his face. he didn’t seem intimidated by her, her beauty, or the fact she could have him dead in four seconds flat. “why would i share such a secret with you?” she asked, lying her bowl down on the bedside table. she got up from the bed as he shrugged and she shimmied over him to get to the mini fridge. she pulled out a whiskey glass and poured some type of liquor into it before bringing it back to chishiya.

“i bet you like rich, sweet corn whiskey more than anything else.” she said. his eyebrow rose and he smirked as he accepted the glass. “lucky bet.” he said. she smiled. she sat down on the bed and crossed her legs, making sure she was positioned directly across from him. she tilted her head curiously, watching him drink as he watched her watch him. he broke the silence. “i bet you let them touch you to gain their trust.” she quirked a curious brow in his direction, lighting up her bowl again. “what makes you say that?” she hummed as she took another small drag, savoring it. he leaned back in the chair and manspread a bit, making himself comfortable.

“you run away from them the moment you can. i see your face when you think you’re alone. you’re disgusted with it, with yourself, maybe. am i right?” she stayed silent. he continued. “i saw the look on your face when you left hatter’s office the day he recruited you. you looked like you had just been told you won a million dollars. which essentially, you had. a million dollars worth of government secrets, and that’s what you wanted.”

chishiya smirked as she tried to hide the fact he was right by keeping a poker face that very slightly faltered every time he stated a new fact. “you want to climb the executive ladder socially and politically so when our leader eventually becomes corrupt and falls, you’ll be the one to take his place. because that’s what you want. power.” he smiled lazily as he brought the rim of his glass to his lips, satisfied with himself. “just a hunch.” he said. she snorted and rolled her eyes. “wow. you were on a roll there for a while, partner.” she said, and she tried not to react to the way he was visibly, slightly taken aback by her response.

“i don’t want power, i want safety. being an executive means nobody touches me while i work the inside reigns and gather information nobody else has access to. being an executive means i can hopefully use what i have to formulate a plan to get the fuck out of here. if i’m good with the people, then nobody accuses me of anything, because nobody wants to see my downfall.” she said, her brows knitting together as she explained, a slight edge in her voice. chishiya smirked and nodded, irritating her further. she so desperately wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.

she leaned forward and braced her hands on her thighs to ground herself. she was close to chishiya, could almost smell him. she glared into his eyes with a sharp gaze, her eyes narrowed. “i bet that you were unhappy with your life in our world. you enjoy the games because you know that you could die and not have to deal with anything anymore, or you could survive and further prove to yourself just how superior and intelligent you are. you don’t care about others lives. this entire world is a big puzzle to you, a puzzle you want to put together and you don’t mind getting people out of the way to solve it.”

she said. chishiya’s eyes widened and he pursed his lips, making a ‘wow, alright then’ expression. “clever girl.” he muttered after a few quiet moments. he sipped deeply from his glass, setting it down once it was empty. she was high, he was buzzed, they were both extremely intelligent, and had high hands in the game of life. not a good mixture. “whatever.” she said, flopping down on her bed. “you’re gonna get high off of second-hand smoke inhalation.” she said. he chuckled. “there’s not enough smoke in the air for that to happen.” she rolled her eyes. “i bet you were a professional smart-ass in our world.” he smirked. “i bet you were a stripper.” she laughed, bitterly albeit. “funny.” “yes, i’m often told that i’m funny.” she rolled her eyes.

“seriously, what were you?” she asked. he kept silent, watching her with a lazy, amused grin. “i bet you were..” she paused to think. “an engineer.” she said. he smiled and exhaled a small laugh type thing. “no. i bet you were a bikini model.” she shook her head, amused. “no. nice to know you think i’m hot enough to be one of those. were you a.. typical office worker?” she asked. “no. babysitter?” “no.”

they went back and forth like that for what must have been a full ten minutes, coming up with things like scientist, escort, pimp, business owner, gymnastics coach, dance choreographer, physics teacher, etc. “okay, i give.” she said, smiling. the atmosphere was relaxed due to both of them being a little ditzy from their substance of choice and it made her happy. she was happy that she wasn’t worrying about being perceived by him and happy that he was loosened up enough to joke around with her the way he was. he’d had two drinks and she’d had three hits by this point. “what were you?” he smirked and looked away, seeming like he was going to withhold the information. when she opened her mouth to say something else, he answered. “a doctor.”

her eyebrows quirked up. “a doctor?” he nodded. “nice.” she said, and as she looked him over, she thought that being a doctor did suit him. “and you?” she leaned back and propped her hands behind her head, gazing up at the ceiling. “i was a competitive aerialist.” he nodded. “that suits you.” “thanks.”

they shared a look for a few moments before (y/n) inhaled deeply and rolled off of the bed, making her way to the window. “wanna dance?” “i don’t dance.” she smirked and opened the window, letting the loud music from downstairs flow in and fill the room. “you do now.” chishiya looked to her. she could see the gears turning in his head. “dance for me.” he said. she paused. “what?” “you said you were a professional aerialist. dance for me.” one, two, four seconds went by of her staring at him before she nodded. she went to her dresser and pulled out long wraps of silk.

“i had a hook installed in here for this exact reason.” she muttered. she swung the silks over the hook and tested their grip before she turned her back to chishiya and took a breath. “look at me.” she said. his gaze flickered to her. “are you looking?” “yes.” she grinned. she began a simple but enticing choreography, caressing the silks and vice versa in the the process. she hoisted herself into the air and turned upside down, letting her legs fall into a spread eagle. she looked to chishiya to see him watching her closely, tapping his fingertips against his empty whiskey glass. she slowly allowed herself to descend, swaying her legs gracefully. she looked like a spider in a web, or maybe an angel. she spun once, twice, slowly around the silk, letting it slide against her body as she gently pressed her feet to the ground. she lowered her arms fluidly and slowly before smiling, taking a playful bow. chishiya nodded with an amused smile on his lips.

“you’re good at what you do.” “thank you.” she left the silks hanging there and she went back to the bed, crawling onto it. she lied down on her side and propped her head up on her outstretched arm. “do you know why you became an executive?” he asked suddenly. she shook her head. “no.” chishiya stood and crossed the front of the bed, circling it. he sat down next to her, making himself comfortable. “i do.” she rolled over to face him. “please, pray tell.” he smirked and looked down at her, his hands folded across his stomach. “you’re good at what you do.” he said again. she tilted her head. “what do you mean?” “you’ve been here for.. close to two months now and yet you’re still alive. you’re smart and it’s saving your ass. hatter likes that about you. he knows your insight will help him.” she huffed, a small grin building on her lips. “yeah?” he looked away. she smiled.

“do you know why you’re an executive?” she asked him. “no. why?” “i don’t know either.” he laughed dryly. she laughed because he did. “it’s probably because you manage to be everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. you’re the eyes and ears of the operation.” he nodded. “you’re probably right.” she smiled. she rolled onto her back and gazed up at him, absorbing the look of his face, his deepset sleepy eyes, the curl of his lips, his straight lashes. she smiled again, amused. “what?” he asked. her smile grew. “nothing.” he shook his head and looked away, out the window.

“you’re pretty.” she said. he looked down at her with an eyebrow raised slightly. “what?” “you’re pretty.” she repeated. he shook his head and chuckled, turning back to face the window. “thanks.” it was quiet for a little bit. “i’m not actually a daddy’s girl, y’know. i’ve just.. found that men prefer easy girls. girls without opinions. girls who tell them what they want to hear.” chishiya glanced over at her. “i know.” he said. for some reason, the words made her feel a lot better. she didn’t want to be perceived as brainless; atleast not by him. she valued his opinion.

“i’ll be leaving now.” he stood and crossed the room in no kind of hurry. she watched him go. “why?” she asked. he paused, looked over his shoulder at her. he smirked. “goodnight, (y/n).” and he was gone.

three days went by and she didn’t see chishiya. not at any of the executive meetings, not around the pool, nowhere. he didn’t visit her room either. she tapped her glass anxiously, looking around the room for the millionth time. “(y/n), calm down. i’m sure he’s fine.” kuina gently grabbed her hand to still her movements. she sighed and looked around again, hoping desperately that she’d spot his familiar fading roots, but it turned out fruitless. the clinging of glass bottles and the sound of music rattled around in her skull so loudly she could barely stand it. “here, drink. you need to relax.” kuina pushed a straw against her lips and she took it into her mouth without looking in her direction. her eyes were glazed over and she was clearly lost in thought.

one, two, three drinks in and (y/n) was starting to feel better. she could go twenty minutes at a time without scanning the room for him. kuina stayed by her side the entire time, reassuring her that he would come. clock struck two in the morning. he hadn’t come. “whatever.” (y/n) said, scowling as she pushed herself off of her stool. “fuck him.” kuina watched her go onto the dance floor and immediately be flanked on all sides by two men and a woman. she stood guard and watched closely, ready to come to (y/n)‘s defense if anyone got creepy.

she danced and spun and rolled her body along to the beat of the songs, getting looser and more comfortable in her movements as time passed. two thirteen, he hadn’t come. one kiss, two kisses, grinding. two forty nine, no sight of him. hands were everywhere, all over her body. on her hips, on her breasts, on her arms. people were buying her shots, she was throwing them back. kuina had left. three eighteen. “(y/n).” she turned around all smiles and smudged mascara to see aguni standing in front of her, like a shark in a crowd of minos. people who realized his presence moved out of his way, cutting a clear path.

“hm?” she asked, continuing to dance. her vision was growing fuzzy and her mind was calm, it was only her and the music and the hands on her body. “you need to come with me.” he said. she raised an eyebrow. aguni was like a big brother to her, albeit a mean one. he let niragi pick on her most of the time. nonetheless, she’d trudge by his side and pretend she didn’t know what he and niragi were up to. pretend to be the doe faced lamb, destined for the slaughter. “why?” she asked, laughing. she spun and her ankle rolled, causing her to stumble. aguni grabbed her arm. “now.”

she frowned and protested as he all but dragged her out of the bar, hauling her around like she weighed nothing but a grape. he dragged her up the stairs and to hatters office, where he and niragi waited for her. “what’s goin’ on?” she slurred. “niragi informed me that you were.. giving out our secrets, (y/n).” hatter said. (y/n) looked at niragi like ‘what the fuck man’ as aguni held her upright. “i was.. literally with kuina all night. i’ve barely said two words because i’ve been so fucking..” in her drunken state, she managed to stop herself before she basically confessed her feelings for chishiya to her higher ups. “not the point, i didn’t tell anybody shit.” she said. hatter nodded at aguni to let her go. she fell into her own weight and rubbed her arm, scowling.

“am i interrupting something?” the three of them turned to see chishiya leaning against the doorway, quiet as a mouse. she hasn’t even heard him come in. “no.” she said, as the three boys behind her said ‘yes’. she turned and frowned deeply at them. her arm burned terribly. she moved her hand and looked down to see that it was bruised and irritated, with a few open cuts from aguni’s rings and fingernails. “(y/n) has been selling us out.” niragi purred as he took a few easy strides to her and lifted her chin with his fingertips. chishiya stiffened. “i can assure you, she’s been with me all night. she hasn’t said a thing to anybody.”

hatter turned to her. “is this true?” she nodded, obviously. why wouldn’t she? she was mad at chishiya, but if he wanted to bail her out of trouble she wouldn’t stop him. niragi sneered in her face and she bared her teeth at him, growling like an animal ready to pounce. “fine.” hatter turned his back and waved his hand, motioning for aguni to take her away. “but (y/n)…” he began. “you know what happens to traitors.” she scoffed. aguni reached for her and she stepped back, back into warm, calloused hands. they slid around her hips and warm breath caressed the side of her face. “i’ll take her, thanks.” she shivered at the sound of chishiya’s voice, at the way he sounded so irritated, at the way his hands gripped her hips a little harder as he turned her body and began leading her out of the room.

the moment the door closed behind them she was pulling away from him, all scowls and pissy attitudes. “don’t put your fucking hands on me.” she said, stopping her tracks. chishiya turned to face her, rolling his tongue in annoyance. “so.. you’ll curse at me, but not them?” he asked. her scowl deepened. she didn’t know how to respond. his eyes flickered to her bicep. “you’re bleeding.” he stated. “yeah, i noticed.” she grumbled, storming past him. he followed her, curling an arm around her waist and turning her body, redirecting her path. “i said don’t fucking touch me! where do you think you’re taking me?” she said angrily, too drunk to note how loud she was being or how crazy she probably seemed.

chishiya kept her on her feet as he lead her up the stairs, ignoring her protests and complaining. it took longer than it usually would to reach his bedroom due to her trying to turn around and escape his grasp every three seconds. he pushed the door open then ushered her inside, quickly closing it behind them. “what is your problem?” he asked. “what is YOUR problem?” she asked, raising her voice. she turned to face him as he stood against the door. “you think you can just— ghost me for three days and then show up and play night in shining armor then drag me to your room in what, in— in the hopes that i’ll fuck you or something?”

his jaw clenched. she stared at him, drunken anger and.. hurt, genuine hurt taking over her ability to think rationally. she thought they had bonded that night, thought they could be friends. she felt comfortable around him, she thought he felt comfortable around her too. he was quiet. she scoffed and shook her head as the hysterical giggles started. “unbelievable.”

she tried to push past him. he grabbed her shoulders and extended his arms, putting distance between them. “you’re bleeding.” he stated again. “i fucking KNOW, chishiya. get out of my way.” he gripped her wrists as she tried to push past him again and his strength scared her. he easily dragged her over to his bed and sat her down. “no.” she said, panic setting in. she began kicking her legs at him, getting him in the shins. “(y/n), stop!” she stopped and looked into his eyes for the first time in three days. his brown, open eyes. she stilled. he sighed and released her slowly, cautiously like she was a predator.

he turned and began digging through his bedside table, pulling out bandages, some sort of liquid in a small bottle and cotton balls. she watched quietly as he kneeled in front of her, her head spinning and thoughts clouded. “it will sting. don’t freak out.” she watched as he dumped the liquid onto a wad of cotton balls. his fingers brushed her arm so gently she almost didn’t feel it. he held his fingertips against bicep her to keep her still as he began patting the cotton onto her cuts, wiping away the blood and disinfecting the area. she winced, and she barely heard his murmured apology. it made her blush, made her feel warm inside. she hated it. hated him.

“you look like hell.” he said, standing to his full height. she frowned at him. “use my shower. there’s towels in there.” “don’t want to.” “that must suck.” he said before he grabbed her under her armpits and hauled her into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. “chishiya, let me out!” “i will. once you shower. you need to fix yourself and clean the wound thoroughly.” “are you saying i smell?” she could almost feel his smirk through the door. she flipped the door off, directing it at him spiritually. she grumbled as she stripped down to nothing, leaving her clothes in a pile behind the door. she turned the shower on and looked at herself in the mirror while she waited for it to warm up, assessing herself. smudged mascara, tired eyes, mussed hair from being thrown around, beaten up arm. men are just the kindest souls, don’t you think?

“(y/n), i know you’re not showering. the curtain didn’t open.” she scoffed. “i’m waiting for the water to heat!” she said as she stepped into the shower to get him to stop bothering her. the warmth caressed her senses immediately, lulling her into a calm state. the vapor in the air around her made her feel safe, like she was wrapped in a warm blanket. two minutes turned into twenty, and twenty into forty five. she was nearly asleep, sitting in the tub beneath the stream when chishiya knocked. “(y/n)? did you drown?” his voice came from behind the door. she chuckled. “you wish i had drowned.” she said. she had peed thrice since being in the shower, and she was halfway sober, aka way less drunk than she was originally.

“you should get out.” he said. “don’t want to.” she could sense the way he shook his head. “you’re a child.” “then you’re my daddy.” she said mindlessly. there was a pause. “(y/n), get out of there. now.” she groaned and whined as she hoisted herself up clumsily, like a deer on new legs. she flipped the water off and climbed out of the tub, quickly wrapping a towel around her body as to not let the cold get to her. she wrapped another towel around her hair haphazardly before she realized there were no clothes in the bathroom besides her dirty ones. she opened the door and stepped out, being faced with a cross-armed chishiya who looked like a dad waiting for his daughter to stop trying on dresses in the store. “i don’t have any clothes.” she said.

his eyes flickered downwards and she followed his gaze. there was a neatly folded pile of clothes to the left of her feet, outside the doorframe. “wow. ever so observant, huh mr. smart guy?” she said. he shrugged and smirked. she rolled her eyes as she bent to pick up the clothes and immediately shut the bathroom door behind her. her options were a tshirt and swim shorts, or a hoodie and boxers. his hoodie. the one she had never seen him go without wearing. her face flushed. she chose the jacket because his room was cold. at least that’s what she told herself.

she emerged from the bathroom about five minutes later to see chishiya on his bed. “welcome back, princess.” he muttered. he looked so.. amused. relaxed. nonchalant. she hated it. she walked over to him and crossed her arms. “what now?” he looked her over, taking his time before he stood. “let me see your arm.” she pulled up the sleeve of his jacket and let him see the wound, which was now clean but still red, irritated and stinging. “sit.” he said. she sat down on the bed slowly, shyly almost. he pulled out some ointment and the bandages from before and sat on the bed next to her, bringing her arm closer to him.

it was quiet as he gently dabbed the ointment onto her cuts, her watching him and him pretending to not know that she was watching him, or at least not care. he placed a soft medical cloth over the wound before wrapping it firmly in the bandages, patting it when he was done. “there.” she was frowning. she rolled her eyes and looked away when he looked at her. “most people would say thank you.” he said. she huffed. “you don’t deserve a thank you.” she saw the way he shook his head from the corner of her eye. “why?” “where have you been?” she snapped at him. his amused aura began to fade. “that’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“nothing i need to worry about? it’s been three days. i thought you were dead!” he smirked, but nothing could hide the irritation brewing in his eyes. “you know i’d never die.” “oh, give it up chishiya! you’re not indestructible! you can die and you’re about to if you don’t tell me where you’ve been!” “are you threatening me?” he asked, standing from beside her. he was frowning now. “yes, i am.” “don’t threaten me. i’ve done nothing but be here for you.” “be here for me my ass! you ditched me!” her voice was raising, the tension was growing. she stood as well, standing face to face with him. he was frowning, hard. “if you must know, i’ve been covering your ass the past three days. that shit you pulled with niragi nearly cost you your position and your life. don’t you see that? you’re reckless, (y/n). reckless and stupid.”

she faltered, taking a step back. her face began to burn in embarrassment and shame. “i’m not stupid.” she muttered, glaring up at him like a pouting child. “you’re acting like it. the more you mouth of to him the more you’re putting your neck on the line.” she had never seen chishiya so mad before, never seen him show so much emotion or speak so much at once. she was mad he was doing it to tell her off. she looked down and was quiet. “do you think its easy for me?” he asked. her eyebrows scrunched. “do you think i like watching you whore yourself around? like watching you come within a breath of death every time you step foot around niragi? we both know he’s a trigger happy moron, he’ll kill you (y/n). he’ll fucking kill you.”

that was the first time she’d ever heard chishiya cuss. she was mad he was cussing at her. she looked up at him to see his concerned, angry expression. concerned. concerned for her. his face softened and he sighed, his voice quieting. “you’re costing me too much.” he said. “what do you mean?” she didn’t understand. didn’t understand why he was covering for her, why he seemed upset that she could die. chishiya didn’t care for anything or anyone as far as she knew. “i didn’t come to the bar, or the pool, or to your room because i hate seeing you with other people. i hate seeing them lay their filthy hands on you. on your body. i hate it.”

she faltered again. “what..?” “i hate the way you take it.” he said. he took a step towards her, grabbing her by the hem of his jacket. “you hate them touching you but you won’t stop them. i think about you, worry about you day in and day out. i spend all of my time covering your sorry ass and keeping niragi away from you the most i can. you’re going to cost me my life, (y/n).” he said, gently wrapping his arms around her waist. she rested her hands on his chest shyly, feeling his heart beat beneath her fingers. she felt stone cold sober, the weight of his words hitting her like a truck. “i’m sorry.” she said finally, looking up at him, at the various emotions swirling in his eyes.

“you should be. you’re going to give me grey hairs.” she giggled quietly, noting their closeness. his hands felt so warm even through the fabric of the jacket. “i’m sorry.” she said again. his gaze moved downwards. “how’s your arm feeling?” he asked. she shrugged. “better, since you wrapped it. thanks, doctor.” he shook his head. she looked up at him, at the face she had grown to care so much for. she bit her lip. “chishiya..?” he met her gaze, locking eyes with her. one, two, three seconds went by. three seconds of consideration before her lips were on his. she kissed him fast and gently, pulling away when the feeling of embarrassment started flowing in her brain.

“uh— sorry. im sorry, i-“ she began pulling away from him, trying to get out of his arms. he easily turned their bodies and slammed her against the wall, holding her hips in a bruising grip. he leaned down so close their foreheads were nearly touching. “back out now or hold your peace.” he said, his voice low and heavily laced with something almost sadistic. she stayed quiet. he slammed his lips onto hers in an animalistic kiss without wasting a single second. it was so out of character for him, but she loved it. she had fantasized about this more times than she was willing to admit. fantasized about his hands on her body, his lips on hers, how he’d be. if he’d be rough, gentle, submissive, dominant, quiet, loud. all of it was coming to her.

“kill them.” he muttered against her lips as he kissed her, his hands squeezing and releasing her hips. she was out of breath, her vision fuzzy when he pulled away to begin kissing her neck. “huh?” “i’ll kill them. the next person to put their hands on you.” he said. her breath hitched at the feeling of his teeth grazing against a sensitive spot. he bit down harder, sucking a nice hickey onto it. “oh, please..” she began, dipping her toes in the kiddy pool of arousal. she wanted to see how he’d react to being teased. “you couldn’t kill anyone if you tried.” he growled against her skin before turning their bodies and shoving her down on his bed. “you have no idea.” he climbed on top of her sprawled body and pulled the zipper of his hoodie down almost violently, revealing her naked breasts.

he groaned at the sight of her peaked nipples just begging for his attention. “chishiya..” she whimpered, arching her back for him. she rubbed her thighs together mindlessly, overwhelmed with emotions. love, hate, lust. she hated the way he dissected her with his eyes, loved the way he made her feel, lusted for his touch. he ignored her sounds and began to palm her breasts, feeling them up. he ran his hands across her chest, down her abdomen and over her plush hips where bruising was starting to blossom from the amount of times he’d grabbed her there. “do you let them touch you like this?” he asked, tearing his jacket off of her and throwing it onto the floor.

she gasped but didn’t answer, earning a slap to her hip. it didn’t hurt, but it shocked her enough to gain her attention. “answer me. do you, huh? do you let them fuck you?” she shook her head no frantically, squirming beneath him as he began hastily pulling down his boxers from her body. he tossed those aside too, groaning. he sat up to take her appearance in fully. her wide pupils, her parted glossy lips, her mussed hair spread out behind her head like a halo, her arms by her head, her naked, beautiful body, ready and keening for him. he took in the way her chest rose and fell with each hard breath she took, the way she kept squirming her thighs together.

“where do you need me?” he asked. she bit her lip and whined as she rose her hips off the bed, pressing her core against him. “use your words. show me.” he smirked, amused by how easily she became so obedient and touch-drunk. she whimpered and began sliding her hand down her body slowly, making a show of it for him. even when she was hazy with want she managed to tease him, to drive him crazy. she cupped her cunt and slid a finger between her lips, feeling the warm wetness that had begun to gather at her needy hole. she pressed that finger against her clit and whimpered, beginning to rub slow circles around it. “here.” she breathed, “need you here.”

he exhaled heavily and got off of the bed, removing his swimming trunks. he undid the ties hastily but slowly pulled them down, letting her see his happy trail turn into a peek of his bulge, then letting his cock spring out fully. his tip was a pretty pale pink like his lips, aching and leaking with pre cum. in the midst of being away from her for a second, he realized that he didn’t know what felt good to her. he didn’t know her body, didn’t know what to do. he kept his composure calm as he directed her to scoot up the bed. when she had done so, he climbed back on top of her and pressed a hand against her throat, firm but not choking.

“tell me what you want.” he said. she shivered. the smell and the feeling of him against her body, knowing his cock was so close to where she needed it most was driving her insane. she swallowed her pride and ran her hands over his shoulders, looking into his eyes with her big doe ones. “want you to touch me, ‘shiya.. want you to make me feel good.” she mumbled, gasping as she felt his tip brush against her clit. “yeah?” he groaned into her ear, smirking against it. her skin felt so sensitive, like her senses were heightened by ten. she gasped as he began rubbing his tip between her lips, teasing her, pressing it hard against her entrance and then taking it away, making her whimper and squirm for him.

“yeah. please, chishiya fuck me.” she pleaded with him, her hands growing frantic against his body as he ground his cock against her. “mm.. do you deserve it?” he asked. “yes!” “i don’t agree.” he hummed. “you’ve been kicking me, cursing at me.. should i really touch you the way you want me to?” she was near tears, knowing she had been a brat to him. she felt bad, but she needed him so badly. it has been so long since she’d gotten laid, his stalling was making her impatient. “i’m sorry,” she whimpered, starting to press messy kisses across his face and neck, wherever she could reach. he hummed against her collarbone before he flipped them over, helping her to straddle his hips.

“take what you want from me.” he said. her face flushed at the idea. he had basically just handed her a credit card and told her to go crazy in her favorite store. she froze, unable to think. “what’s the matter, hm?” he purred, running his hands over her hips. “cat got your tongue? what happened to all that confidence of yours?” he teased her, and she pouted. shyly, she took his cock into her hand and slowly began pumping him, starting from the base and up to the tip, squeezing gently. he groaned and she sucked in a sharp breath, the noise making her throb. “are you okay with this?” she asked. he nodded. “take me.”

she nodded and wasted no time in lifting her hips and aligning his tip with her entrance. he kept a firm hold on her hips as she slowly lowered herself onto him, moaning at the pressure. he groaned and squeezed her tighter, encouraging her to continue. she sat still on him for a moment, letting both of them adjust to the feeling. when the pinching ceased, she lifted her hips again and arched her back, straddling him like she would a motorcycle. she looked back to watch herself as she rode him, reveling in his quiet groans and grunts as she took him into her tight cunt. “good.. thats good. keep going, pretty girl.” he purred, starting to help her when she faltered. he’d lift her hips for her and help ease her back down, sliding his hands to her ass to feel the way it jiggled when it came in contact with his pelvis.

“fuuuck..” he groaned, getting gradually more pussy drunk the more she rode him. “faster.” he started pushing her down onto his cock faster, impaling her on his thick length. she let him, her moans growing in volume as he fucked her. “shiya.. shiya, s’ so good..” she whimpered, balling her hands into fists on his chest, keeping herself upright as she half rode half took his cock. “yeah?” he asked, genuinely curious. he would never purposefully hurt her. even though he didn’t know her well, she had intrigued him from the moment they played their first game together, and that rarely ever happened. he stood on the sidelines watching her for ages, studying her, her behavior patterns, her flirting mechanisms, everything. he knew she had probably been with a lot of partners before, and that was fine. he just wanted to make sure that she felt good.

“yeah.. don’t stop.” she huffed out, her movements becoming sloppy. she ground her hips forward each time she came down, catching her clit on the neat patch of hair on his pubic bone and amplifying her pleasure. her tits began bouncing in his face as they sped up, mesmerizing him. “shit.. so pretty for me. just me.” he began groping them, flicking his thumbs over her perky nipples. she cried out, her cunt tightened around him and squeezing him tight, trying to milk him for all he had. she was babbling brainlessly now, saying how his cock felt so good inside her and how much she wanted him.

a shift of her hips had his tip rubbing perfectly against that sensitive, spongy spot inside of her, and she couldn’t help the loud moans that followed. chishiya’s face was flushed and his eyes were hazy with lust when she looked down at him, seeing the way he eyed her tits as he played with them. she could feel him throbbing inside her, signifying that he was close. “shiya.. gonna cum. wanna cum, please.” she whimpered. “yeah?” his eyes met hers as he trailed his hands down her body, settling on her waist. “cum for me. cum on my cock, pretty girl.” he groaned against her neck, licking and biting and sucking over the marks he had left previously.

a few more thrusts had her falling apart on his dick with loud, unceremonious cries, soaking her thighs, his pelvis, and a bit of the sheets below them. she rode out her orgasm on him, using him for her own pleasure. he slammed her down on him a few more times before his hips stuttered and his seed spilled inside of her warm pussy, filling her up. the feeling of his cock pulsing inside her as he came made her twitch in pleasure. she looked down at him, breathing hard, a small smile on her lips.

“so.. are you still mad at me?” she asked. he chuckled. “i feel as though i should be asking you that.” she giggled and leaned down, pressing her lips against his. it wasn’t like their other kisses, it was gentle and sweet, like an innocent first love. when she pulled away she was all smiles, and chishiya had a lazy grin on his face. they sat catching their breath for a moment, chishiya staying tucked comfortably inside her. “(y/n).” “hm?” “i’m serious about what i said. i’ll kill the next person to lay a hand on you.” she smiled dreamily, leaning down to press a chaste kiss against his lips. “i know, daddy.”

he stilled. she stilled. she regretted it immediately. “i’m sorry.” she mumbled, worry starting to show on her face. she watched his expression change from blank to primal before he suddenly flipped her over, trapping her body beneath his. “that little mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble, bunny.” he groaned against her ear, trailing his hands against the curve of her ass before landing a hard slap against it. his cock was rock hard inside of her now, ready to go again. “say it again.” “daddy..” she whimpered softly, looking over her shoulder at him. he buried his fist in her hair and yanked her head back, pulling a moan from her sweet lips. “louder.” he growled as he pushed his hips against hers roughly, reaching deep inside her worn cunt. “daddy.” she mewled, her eyes rolling back at the feeling.

“yeah.. that’s right.” he began fucking into her, hard. his pelvis hit against her ass quick, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside of her each time. his hand stayed tangled in her hair, his free hand resting on her throat, keeping her back arched for him as he kept her head back. her moans and cries only turned him on more, made him want to ruin her, to put his mark on her.

“who else can make you feel like this, huh?” he asked into her ear, biting down on her lobe. “who can make you cum like i can?” “n-nobody!” she mewled like a bitch in heat, joyfully letting him pound into her sopping cunt over and over again, pushing his seed deeper inside. “only you, only you!” she panted like a prayer, her hand resting atop of his, prying at his fingers as he tightened his hold on her throat. “god, (y/n).. you don’t know what you do to me.” he growled, squeezing her throat. “make me want to fucking ruin you.” her cunt spasmed around him hopelessly, sensitive from her previous orgasm. “shiya, can’t take it! s’ too much!”

she cried, but it fell upon deaf ears. he sped up, determined to push her to her limits, to mark her, to own her. “say my name.” “shiya..” “not that one.” he growled. she blushed as her lips parted obediently, the name he loved so much slipping past easily. “daddy.” he tugged her head back harder and attached his lips to her neck, creating more bright red hickeys for everyone to see. “that’s it.. yeah, fuck, that’s it girl. louder. let everyone know how good i make you feel.” he sped up, going harder inside her abused pussy. she moaned shamelessly, loudly, borderline pornographically as the sounds of his skin slapping against her ass competed with her in volume. “daddyyy! daddy, m’ gonna cum!” she warned him as her cunt tightened around him even harder than before, preparing to take him for all he’s worth.

“good,” he moaned. “cum for me, tell me how good i make you feel. go on, bunny. cum for me.” he coaxed her, pushing and pushing her buttons until she couldn’t take it anymore. he slammed into her even as she came again, pounding her like a toy, reveling in the way her beautiful cunt sucked him in greedily. his thrusts became sloppy soon after and he emptied himself inside her once more, burying himself to the hilt inside her warm pussy. he gave her ass a few hard slaps, leaving faint handprints, making her moan. she was panting and totally spent by the time his spurts of cum stopped, leaving her stuffed full and with a warm fuzzy feeling inside and out.

“you’re mine, (y/n).” he panted, pressing soft kisses against her face and shoulders, rubbing his hands gently over her bruised hips and red ass. “promise?” he chuckled. “i promise.”

he pulled out of her and helped her to sit upright before he started helping her clean up and get dressed. he helped her into his jacket and boxers, smoothing her hair away from her forehead and checking on her bandages while he was at it.

“are you okay?” he asked as he lied down with her, cradling her head to his chest. he rubbed little circles onto the palm of her hand with his thumb as she came down from her high and caught her breath. yeah..” she mumbled, exhausted. he nodded and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “i’m here.” he said.

the next morning, he was gone. her eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the light that poured in from the still-open window. when she reached her hand out, his side of the bed was empty and cold, meaning he had been gone for a while. she sat up and looked to confirm, seeing a ruffled but empty mattress. she tucked her knees into her chest and stared blankly at the comforter, replaying the events of the night before. being worried off her ass, getting drunk, having several sets of hands at her at once, hatter accusing her of selling him out, aguni cutting her arm, chishiya bandaging her up and then fucking her until she couldn’t remember her name.

and now he was gone. typical chishiya. she should’ve expected it. she rolled out of bed and trudged into the bathroom to splash some water on her face and figure out what she wanted to do with herself. she saw her clothes behind the door and realized she wasn’t in her room. it was his. she frowned, quickly washed her face off and pulled her hair back before leaving the bathroom and sliding her shoes on. the moment she wrapped her fingers around the main door handle, it pushed open and revealed chishiya. her frown deepened and she tried to push past him, keeping her mouth shut.

“(y/n)?” he blocked the doorway and put a hand on her shoulder. “what?” she asked sharply, glaring at him. she crossed her arms. “what’s wrong?” he asked. “you left me. again.” “(y/n).. it’s eleven am. i was at the meeting. i tried to wake you and you told me to kill myself.”

her mouth fell open for a moment before she started laughing. she put her hands over her face and took a step back to let him into the room fully. “i don’t remember that, i’m so sorry.” she giggled, peeking from over her fingers at him. he shook his head and kicked the door shut behind him, holding up a small bag. “i told hatter you were sick with a hangover. i brought food.”

he lead her to the bed and let her sit down, taking a seat next to her. he began setting out the contents of the bag, pulling out some fruits, bread, and other mundane things of the like. she ate quietly as he checked on her bandages, telling her that he’d have to change them later.

“chishiya?” “hm?” she set her bread aside and looked into his eyes. “can you promise me something?” his expression softened and he ran his thumb over her bandages. “i can try.” “promise me that.. we’ll get out of here together. no more disappearing from me.” she said. he nodded. “okay. i can promise that.”

she smiled and leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, reveling in the way he leaned into her touch.

being in the borderlands was hard. being an alleged spoiled bimbo was harder. but having chishiya as a companion made the struggle worth it. she kissed him again, knowing they might not make it out together, but the thought was enough for her to try.

#chishiya fanfic #chishiya shuntaro #fanfic #x reader #alice in borderland #chishiya smut #aib chishiya #romance #plot bunny #enjoy <3

[thegirlwhowrites642]

Hiii :)

Do you have any Harry headcanons ?

In the previous episodes: Headcanons about the Potter kids and Teddy Headcanons about Ginny

Now, some Harry headcanons:

His favourite colour is red but that's basically canon

Called the big black dog he and Ginny adopted "Pad" (in reference to Padfoot of course), literally the only animal he managed to name out of all the zoo they have in the house

Canonically he becomes Head Auror at 27, around the same time Lily was born, so I think it happened for a similar reason to Ginny changing her job. Harry loves being in the action and it definitely wasn't his last opportunity to become Head Auror, but basically never going in the field and generally having way more stable hours meant having way more time for the kids

After the war, he discovers that there's an actual Potter vault at Gringrotts he started having access to at 17. There he finds, besides more money, a lot of family heirlooms, diaries, and things taken from the cottage and so he starts discovering more about the Potter family.

When Ginny goes back to Hogwarts, Harry doesn't exactly have the easiest time dealing with her absence. So once he understands that drinking himself to death might not be a great idea he decides to keep himself extremely busy. Obviously, Auror's training helps, but also he spends a lot of time with Teddy and, inspired by what he finds in the Potter vault, he starts investigating his family, finding distant relatives or simply people who knew his parents and grandparents and maybe even great-grandparents. Not only from the Potter side but the Evans one too. He writes to Ginny about it and it becomes a sort of game where she suggests places to check (especially with her pureblood knowledge of the wizarding world) and many of the people Harry meets become inside jokes between them, like some sort of characters

Lily has him wrapped around her little finger. In his defence, she looks just like her mother, what is he supposed to do??

He is like ridiculously good at his job? Especially when he comes to terms with the fact that he can be very intimidating and starts using that with purpose

He is the one that cooks usually, a sort of reappropriation of the activity after his childhood. Now he does it for the people he loves and that very much love him back.

When the kids are all at Hogwarts, he decides that he needs another hobby besides cooking. I've always imagined gardening because it's an open-air activity and it's very methodical and therefore relaxing. Maybe he starts keeping a vegetable garden.

Robards is absolutely the new addition to his collection of father figures.

When he becomes Head of the DMLE, he gets as secretary a very competent, very grumpy, lady that is old enough to be his mother. Harry adores her because she doesn't give a fuck about him being Harry Potter and when she retires he is grumpy about it for months.

On this note, Harry takes Ron leaving the Aurors as a bit of a personal offence. He gets over it eventually but oh, he definitely complains about it

The Auror partner he has for years is a guy ten years older than him, that already has a wife and very young kids when Harry meets him, so he becomes a bit of an older brother to Harry [I hate when people give Harry no new friends in the Aurors, the man works there for a billion years]. The Potters are all friends with this other family, they have dinners together once in a while, the kids are invited to the others' birthdays, stuff like that

When Ginny plays for the Harpies he is the only guy in the group at parties. The only players with a partner are a couple of older married women that don't usually go to parties, all the younger girls are young and single so they basically adopt Harry as a brother and ask him for advice with the guys (to Ginny's great amusement and Harry's horror) but he actually grows into the role

As much as he hates to admit it, one thing he learns from hanging out with Quidditch players is how easier it is to be friends with other famous people than non-famous ones

He teaches his kids how to duel because he is paranoic and also there's nothing more Harry Potter-like than teaching your kids in borderline illegal ways despite being Head Auror

He has some quirks that come very clearly from being raised by Petunia, like being a bit of a neat freak. In general, he needs some things in the house to be done in a certain way

When he eventually retires, he picks up some cases here and there as a private investigator, mainly because I think it would be hilarious for him to be in competition with a department he led for years

In short, grandpa/great-grandpa/great-great-grandpa Harry has Harry's idea of a perfect life: he spends a lot of time with the grandchildren, he has his vegetable garden, he has fun solving only the more interesting mysteries, he goes to events to support his writer wife, and they have a fun trip once in a while

#harry potter

[spyridonya]

How the Drow Became Problematic Faves - a Badly Written Meta History of D&D

Oh, hey. It feels like newcomers to D&D via BG3 fandom have discovered the Problematic Nature of Drow via Halsin vs Minthara conflict. 

Cut because of talk of racism and it being fucking long.

Let's talk about meta, first. So, the very first usage of 'drow' came from a dialetc of Scots as a term for troll, which was used to talk about all sorts of evil spirits. When Gary Gygax had to make a war game, he decided he'd make evil elves. They were based on 'black elves' in the Prose Edda and saw the word 'Drow' in a dictionary that claimed it was a term for underground elves who were skilled workers in metal. Being a white guy in the late 70s, he saw no issues in making evil elves actually black. For the next decade or so, they were canon fodder for modules and novels and always evil and repugnant. 

In the late 80s and early 90s, R. A. Salavotre and Ed Greenwood slapped on the concept of drow society being an evil dystopian society run by dominatrixes who emasculate men, in the Forgotten Realms setting. There were a few token dark elves, namely the super popular Drizzt Do'Urden, who were good but the majority were not. Like Gary, RA and Ed were white guys who did not see the problem of black elves and putting their kink into deep lore. Not all settings went by this, Dragonlance for example had drow just be ‘evil assholes elves who got kicked out of their society’ and look like just any other elves.  

(Quick note on Drizzt, he became iconic not because of his race but so much as being an outsider to two cultures while being a badass. I might not be a fan personally, but I know the appeal of the character.) 

The 90s came along and by the end of the decade, TSR was bought by Wizards of he Coast who proceeded to make the Drow even Grim Darker during 3rd edition  to go along with the times. Yet, too, didn’t stop to think about the problematic issues that were being brought up by more thoughtful fans - WotC hired another module company who wrote about  drow women being so fucking evil, they an orgasm like reaction when embryo killed each other in the womb. 

4th Edition came and went. No one talks about those times. Drow existed as evil. 

2014, 5e comes along and drow are so fucking popular, they’re included in the Player’s Handbook, rather in errata based books, as ‘humanoid’. In fact other evil races were introduced under the label of ‘humanoid’, indicating orcs and goblinkin. About a year later, Matt Mercer switched up his TTRPG to 5e because it was an easier system for his friends to understand, and they began to show their games online under Critical Role while a year after that Stranger Things came out and became a smash hit. 

Between these two, D&D explodes in popularity with an entirely new demographic group that began to outnumber the old guard. This larger and more diverse popular saw drow and other ‘evil races’ and went ‘wtf’. They didn’t exactly like the concept of ‘an always evil race’ and discovered the problematic issues that collected over the last several decades not with just drow, but with ‘monstrous’ races. 

WotC wanting money began to listen - just really slowly, and not so much in Forgotten Realms.They dropped the ‘always evil’ from the stat block but refused to change anything else to their older settings. 

(Incidentally, the company that made Grim Dark Drow really disliked 4e. They decided to make their own take of 3.5e with Hookers and Blackjack and made Pathfinder, which was supposed to be Edgier Game than D&D. However, a lot of people they hired were quick to notice the nature of the game and say, ‘nah, this shit is stupid’. As of now, Pazio is retconning drow from their lore. - That my friends, is called a character arc.)

During this 46 year span, drow have been fucking evil because their goddess made them do it as justification of their evilness - and not because they were black or born into it. In fact, Lloth, Gruumsh and Maglubiyet are the reasons why the Drow, Orc, and Goblinkin society is so evil and they’re also why they can function as a society when in truth, they all should have fallen apart. And no one has bothered to change this lore. In fact they avoid mentioning this lore rather than changing it to avoid conflict with older fans and newer fans. 

Then BG3 hits and hits harder than anyone expected. A lot of new fans come on aboard and really begin to like Drow, who are super sexy evil elves, not knowing the lore and kicking the problematic issues down the road. Larian was a bit quicker than TSR/WotC to realize ‘wow, this is fucking yikes’ and decided to make Seldarine drow. I’ve been playing since I was young teen, in the last years of 3.xe. I saw a lot of wanna-be Drizzt and Good Aligned Drow that were played variably, but there were a lot of people who loved the concept. While Seldarine aren’t a concept in TTRPG canon proper, the idea of Seldarine drow has existed for decades at tables, and Larian acknowledging that is something I love.

But they made Llothsworn Drow as the ‘lore compliant drow’ because WotC hasn’t changed drow in decades. 

The thing is, Drow being Problematic Faves isn’t because WotC is wildly racist on purpose, it’s just that during the majority of Drow being A Thing in D&D, they have been Sexy and Evil Villains and play the role of Misunderstood Outsider (though this recently has been taken over by tieflings).

In fact, I’m seeing a lot of new fans getting kicked in the teeth when characters react to a Llothsworn drow as flat out evil and not being judged by their actions, because they don’t know it’s been a thing in D&D for years with narrative excuses to justify in-universe racism. And then there are some players who make an evil Llothsworn drow and still get upset despite playing into in-universe reasons for the excuses of racism.

We’re seeing it as a reaction to datamined information with little context other than an abused white guy feels uncomfortable with an abused black woman - and it’s super hard to justify in-universe reasons for this because in the real world, a white guy is going to be listened to and believed regardless of it being true or not.

Essentially, the drow are a fucking mess due to D&D ignoring the racial implications of drow in the real world for nearly 50 years. The only way to fix it is making major lore changes, which is something they’re reluctant to do because they’re making their errata books so damn light on lore as to avoid conflict and the model sells.

Will this change with BG3? I don’t know. But I kinda hope so. 

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin #minthara #drow

[detectivechen]

the writers vs. lucy chen

i wasn’t looking for her to get promoted at a random moment in the season, so that’s not the issue. she’ll get promoted eventually. she has to be. otherwise, these writers will never beat the allegations, and tbh, they’re running out of time.

it’s definitely a collective decision, too, bc the writers have changed hands multiple times since that girl, ep 513. not even my fave writer could save the five-player trade storyline from the trenches. such a shame bc this ep was vintage rookie: very cohesive and exciting!

what are these allegations?

it’s 100% misogynistic for them to falsely equate lucy’s influence with manipulation to create obstacles in her life. it was annoying for them to do it personally, but now it’s downright infuriating for them to do it professionally.

because if anyone deserves a stress-free path and a fast-track to a promotion on this show, it’s lucy chen. mid-wilshire’s shooting champ endured traumatic hazing to prove her chops for UC as a rookie. as a newly minted P2, she singlehandedly dismantled two drug cartels on her first deep cover op, after meticulous preparation.

yet, she has none of the commendations that would normally go along with accomplishments of that magnitude. they moved on way too quickly from that to make chenford ride together again and assert nolan’s position as the rookie. so even though lucy has nothing left to prove, she’s been stuck fighting for leadership positions to get more points in favor of a promotion.

why does this matter?

lucy chen is a unicorn. finding a highly capable, girl-next-door asian-american female lead with an equally strong moral compass like her, esp in her field, is very difficult.

it’s painful to watch the writers ruin what they’ve built by making something out of nothing, given the way they’ve upgraded the careers of their two white male officers in the last two seasons without issue. it’s sending the message that women of color really do have to work twice as hard to get the same accolades, even in a fictional world, and not in the social commentary way.

in s4, nolan’s promotion to P2 was so ugly. the team was concerned with finding the killer of lucy’s best friend, a black man, and her situationship’s former TO’s best friend, a latina woman. somehow, though, the white man who undermined the justice system egregiously in the name of self-righteousness got an on-cam pat on the back from his black watch commander for taking his punishment well. the audacity. even tim’s deserved promotion happened off-cam.

in s5, her peer, nolan, leaves her in the dust by getting awarded a golden ticket for being a white savior at the border. detective is seemingly open for him again, even after being told that his self-righteousness cost him that privilege, but he opts for TO. what a slap in the face for lucy, who always navigated policy and procedure well.

make it make sense.

to make matters worse, the writers have now proceeded to willfully interpret her goodwill to help her bf get a more prestigious lateral transfer as malicious to make everyone turn on her.

after everything you have been through, how often you have proven yourself, there is not a cop in here who would not have your back if you asked. ��harper in 505

so suddenly, every accomplishment lucy’s ever had is thrown out the window bc she did a lil networking to get her superior sergeants referrals for placements more suited to their current values? this punishment of making her worried about getting her score tanked doesn’t fit the crime of her secret involvement in tim’s career at all.

regardless, she’ll take the detective's exam in two weeks their time (ep 521). let’s see what bs comes up to make the ‘grand plan’ of delaying her promotion for the 100th ep happen (ep 602). 🙃

#the rookie #chenford #lucy chen #let's hope none of the ladies are made to act weird next ep #featured #intersectionality #the rookie s5 #mine.post #feminism #misogyny #racism #be a good human

[moonamite]

ohmtgrgg i love your dealer design pls can we have more headcannons he looks so SILYLHT

Ok so

Dealer headcanons

Physical and behaviorally he’s based off several different animals- Cats, dogs, lizards, hippo, sharks, ect.

He looks fat, but it’s actually pure muscle.

His skin is rough like shark skin but dry like lizard scales in shed. (He enjoys being scratched.)

His wounds heal pretty quickly, but the scars never completely fade.

If another demon enters his nightclub, he becomes territorial. Of course, he tries to stay civilized at first, but if the opposing demon stays too long, becomes aggressive, or tries to start trouble, he WILL physically fight them.

In his spare time he’s either reading (he has little reading glasses), waiting for another player, spectating the people below, or polishing his guns (guns plural. He has a collection). And although he doesn’t need to, he’ll sleep/nap from time to time.

His tail is mostly for balance, but if you get hit by it, it will shatter your ribs and spine.

Obviously he purrs. But he can also make a wide variety of vocalizations- though most people never hear them since he prefers to stay quiet.

He’s pansexual and goes by He/it.

Because of his large, uneven teeth, he cannot fully close his mouth. The scars around his ‘lips’ are from his teeth.

He does have eyeballs. They’re just very sunken in and also pitch black.

The lore for why he’s missing his wings is that once upon a time (like a LONG time ago) he cheated against the wrong person and was punished severely. (Wings physically **ripped** out of their sockets.) He still experiences phantom pains sometimes.

He has ears. They’re just small holes at the sides of his head like reptile ears.

He’s probably like 200+ years old, but physically he seems to be in his 60-70s.

He possesses both male and female reproductive organs. Do with that what you will.

His face is very sensitive to touch. Hold him.

He has a cane, but he doesn’t use it often.

He’s a bit over 8 feet tall.

His eyes can glow red in the dark because his eyes are reflective like cat eyes.

He’s got a long black forked tongue like a monitor lizard. It also has small barbs on it like the tongue of a cat.

You know how crocodiles can gallop? The Dealer charges at people on all fours when he finds them cheating.

He’s got small mini-teeth lining his throat. His jaws work like a moray’s- Once he has you, you can’t get out. His eyes roll back when he’s attacking with his mouth. But because he looks is to stay civilized and rational, nobody really sees this side of him.

His claws are like dog claws and never stop growing. They gotta be cut but not too close to the quick.

He drinks his respect women juice. Really he’s generally pretty respectful unless you cheat or piss him off.

Listens to old people music

He has another, more monstrous form. Nobody’s seen it, or at least, nobody’s lived to tell the tale.

He also doesn’t need to eat. Or drink. But he’ll indulge in both, though mostly drinking.

Despite running the place, he never partakes in the club activities. He’s almost always in his roulette room.

Nobody knows his name, or if he even has one. He’s just “The Dealer”.

When it comes to conversations, he’s much more of a listener than a talker. He gives off serious dad/grandpa energy sometimes.

#buckshot roulette #the dealer #buckshot roulette headcanon #headcanons #Dealer headcanons

[hoodedchishiya]

♦️Biography. Chishiya Shuntarō♦️

Most of this is made up by the mun— do not steal or reblog as I’ve put a lot of thought into this. Also do not copy this layout.

Basic info:

Full name: Chishiya Shuntarō.

Birthday/Age: Born April 2nd. 24 years old.

Zodiac sign: Aries.

Gender: Male.

Sexuality: Refuses to label himself. Interested in both men and women.

Nationality: Japanese.

Born in: Yokohama, Kanagawa Japan.

Currently residing in: Shibuya City, Tokyo Japan.

Morality: Morally grey.

Occupation: Doctor/Pediatric Heart Surgeon.

Speciality/Game preference: Diamond ♦️

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Appearance:

Height: 168cm (5’6”)

Weight: 57 kg/8.9 stone.

Hair: Platinum Blond (Dyed)

Eyes: Brown/Onyx.

Tattoos: None. He isn’t interested in getting any either.

Piercings: Two ear piercings, plain black his choice of earring. He refuses to wear earrings in Borderland though, as they could easily get snagged on something during games.

Scars: A horizontal scar on his back between his shoulder blades which he obtained during his first ever Spades game— a part of the reason he hates those types of games. The scar is also part of the reason he constantly wears his hoodie at the Beach despite the hot weather to conceal it away from other players who may see it as a potential weakness. Chishiya likes to be seen as untouchable after all.

Other: Has a small gap between his two front teeth and a beauty spot under his left eye. Often wears eyeliner too.

Faceclaim: Nijiro Murakami.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Family/Friends:

Mother: Chishiya Yui.

Status: Alive.

Relationship— Nonexistent. Chishiya’s mother is often absent from his life, only showing up on the occasional weekend to check in— the checking in being ignoring him half the time she’s there. Due to the fact that she never cared to explain her disappearance or where she was going to either him or her husband, Chishiya learned to stop asking and accepted that maybe she never wanted to be a mother or a wife to begin with.

Father: Chishiya Minato.

Status: Alive.

Relationship— Their relationship has always been rocky— an understatement if you ask Chishiya. Father-like- son, Chishiya’s father is a proud and stubborn man. They didn’t get much time to bond given his father was always at work, working 12 hours at the hospital almost every day with little time to acknowledge Chishiya and cold shouldering him when getting the chance. They often clashed whenever speaking and after his consistent pushing for Chishiya to follow in his footsteps as a doctor and his constant chiding for him to do better even with the perfect grades at school, Chishiya finally snapped and decided to cut off all contact. Both of his parents’ neglect is why he is the way he is and doesn’t understand the basic concept of love— whether it be platonic or romantic. It’s also why he strives to be better than everyone else thanks to his father drumming it over and over into his head on a daily basis.

Siblings: Only child.

Spouse: N/A. Rarely engages in relationships or sex for that matter, only the occasional hook-up. (Depends on the verse. Shipping can be discussed, but I won’t allow force shipping.)

Pets: N/A. His parents never allowed them in the house, and when growing up he lost interest in getting any pets.

Kids: N/A. (Again, depends on the verse.)

Friends: Chishiya doesn’t have any friends in the real world by choice— he simply doesn’t feel the need to have them, nor did he ever feel any connection to the people around him while he was growing up. After Borderland though, he became quite close to Kuina, Arisu and Usagi.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Other:

Personality/Traits: Sarcastic, Witty, Highly intelligent, Selfish, Uncaring, Nonchalant, Calm, Collected, Introverted, Anti-social, Manipulative, Cold-Hearted, Cynical, Logical, Realist, Enigmatic, Confident, Merciless, Proud, Stubborn, Apathetic, Stoic.

MBTI Type: INTJ— INTJ type is Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Judging, which means they are energized by time alone, focused on big picture ideas and concepts, led by logic and reason, and organized. This combination of personality preferences produces people who are analytical, innovative, and strategic.

Any mental illness: Depression. Antisocial personality disorder— Often takes anti-depressants to keep his depression at bay but considering he doesn’t have them in Borderland, he goes off the rails and let’s the intrusive thoughts start to seep in. This often leads to him acting out as a means to find new ways to distract himself from the hurt and past traumas that are usually numbed by the pills. Chishiya loathes to feel anything. He’d much rather be emotionless and numb while getting off on other people’s pain. He’s a bit of a sociopath.

Weapons: Makeshift taser, makeshift flamethrower, switchblade and makeshift bombs. Basically anything he can get his hands on, he’ll try and craft it into a weapon.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Backstory:

Born to two doctors, Chishiya comes from a rich family— but quickly learned the hard way that money doesn’t buy happiness. From a young age, Chishiya learned how to be independent due to his parents never being there for him. He learned how to cook, clean and look after himself. Pretty much the result of both his parents being pressured by society to start a family, Chishiya was the product of what his parents hoped would get people off their backs once and for all.

Neglected and forgotten about half the time, Chishiya grew bitter to the world around him believing that humanity is inheritently selfish and that love doesn’t exist.

Forced into med school by his father by the time he was eighteen, Chishiya accepted his fate and tried to see the positive of joining the profession thinking that perhaps if he could help people then he could find the meaning of life and prove to himself that humanity wasn’t all that bad after all.. unfortunately it only lead him further down the path of bitterness to the world around him.

Never returning home after graduating and with a degree now under his belt, Chishiya opted to completely cut off all contact with his parents and changed his phone number to start anew. Soon after, he sealed a position at Sakurazawa University Hospital, starting out as a medical intern. At first all was well and he could actually see a decent future for himself there. Things were looking up and he was finally helping people and healing a part of himself in the process.. that was until the letters started to roll in and he was forced to prioritise the treatment of richer patients, the less fortunate often dying due to much needed treatment and surgeries that got delayed. 9/10 times, they were kids that died..

Depression quickly set in and Chishiya fell into despair, completely growing numb to everything and the last of his hope for humanity, and to find his calling in life diminished. Death didn’t bother him anymore. Nothing did, and he learned to stop caring about anything and everyone including himself.

It’s why he treats Borderland as a playground and has little concern for his own life, using sarcasm as a shield to hide behind. His mindset is: Now he gets to choose who lives and who dies. Oh how the tables have turned.

**More to be added.**

#NO REBLOGGING #I tried to put so much effort into this oml #I could talk about him all day #I love him he’s my little bean #biography #alice in borderland roleplay #roleplay #aib rp #aib roleplay #roleplay account #roleplayer #alice in borderland #alice in borderland rp #shuntaro chishiya #chishiya shuntaro

[richincolor]

YA in Verse

April is National Poetry Month and I thought I'd highlight some amazing books. Novels in verse and YA poetry collections are becoming more popular as teens respond to the genre. I thought I'd share a few that I've read and loved. 

Saints of the Household by Ari Tison

Max and Jay have always depended on one another for their survival. Growing up with a physically abusive father, the two Bribri American brothers have learned that the only way to protect themselves and their mother is to stick to a schedule and keep their heads down. But when they hear a classmate in trouble in the woods, instinct takes over and they intervene, breaking up a fight and beating their high school's star soccer player to a pulp. This act of violence threatens the brothers' dreams for the future and their beliefs about who they are. As the true details of that fateful afternoon unfold over the course of the novel, Max and Jay grapple with the weight of their actions, their shifting relationship as brothers, and the realization that they may be more like their father than they thought. They'll have to reach back to their Bribri roots to find their way forward.

Black Girl You Are Atlas Renée Watson, Ekua Holmes (Illustrator)

A thoughtful celebration of Black girlhood by award-winning author and poet Renée Watson. In this semi-autobiographical collection of poems, Renée Watson writes about her experience growing up as a young Black girl at the intersections of race, class, and gender. Using a variety of poetic forms, from haiku to free verse, Watson shares recollections of her childhood in Portland, tender odes to the Black women in her life, and urgent calls for Black girls to step into their power. Black Girl You Are Atlas encourages young readers to embrace their future with a strong sense of sisterhood and celebration. With full-color art by celebrated fine artist Ekua Holmes throughout, this collection offers guidance and is a gift for anyone who reads it.

An Appetite for Miracles by Laekan Zea Kemp

Danna Mendoza Villarreal’s grandfather is slowly losing himself as his memories fade, and Danna’s not sure her plan to help him remember through the foods he once reviewed will be enough to bring him back. Especially when her own love of food makes her complicated relationship with her mother even more difficult. Raúl Santos has been lost ever since his mother was wrongly incarcerated two years ago. Playing guitar for the elderly has been his only escape, to help them remember and him forget. But when his mom unexpectedly comes back into his life, what is he supposed to do when she isn’t the same person who left? When Danna and Raúl meet, sparks fly immediately and they embark on a mission to heal her grandfather ... and themselves. Because healing is something best done together—even if it doesn’t always look the way we want it to.

#weneeddiversebooks #ya lit #national poetry month

[association-of-freed-people]

In case you’ve managed to miss this sportsball tempest, we have a situation that is evidently Juicy Smollette 2.0.

Except this time there were thousands of witnesses and television cameras and no one but the female Juicy saw or heard anything, yet the media and intersectional zealots with institutional power are once again fully engaged in the garment rending performance and punitive action and indictment against completely innocent people.

BYU has been in the crosshairs for being a relatively conservative and religious university in the world of major college athletics. They’re a whipping boy.

We’re once again in an era where baseless bigoted accusations are made and the accused are punished with ferocity despite a complete lack of evidence. It’s on a collective scale now.

It’s retrograde. It’s what people fought to put in the dirt for generations.

And here it is again.

[reds-corner]

“My One And Only“ choice game

Hello, kind stranger!

I am happy to present you with my new project. The main theme is personal development, but it is heavily focused on romance. The past and initial personality of MC is more or less established, but you can change the direction and shape their personality into something new... or leave it as it is. You know what they say: "if it ain't broke..."

I would love to hear your thoughts on the game. And you should also know I’m not a native English speaker. 

So, if you notice any bugs or grammar mistakes in the game please let me know.

Thanks!

This is it. You’ll finally have your first taste of an independent life. Starting from getting out of your parent’s home and moving in with your best friend. What can possibly go wrong?

Between some disastrous party and an unplanned trip, you get to meet new people and have an unexpected encounter with an old enemy.

Will you be able to overcome old fears, make new friends, salvage the relationship with your family, and find love and adventure?

Maybe you can even find yourself in the middle of all this mess.

Let’s find out!

Genre: Personal development and romance.

Maximilian/Megan Brown

Sex: Male/female (selectable by player).

Age: Mid to late twenties.

Birthday: December 28th.

Romanceable: Yes, by all MCs.

Nickname: Maxi-boy/Meggy.

Appearance: 6’2 and athletic. M has light peach skin. With baby blue eyes. And jet-black spiky hair (short for Max and long for Megan). Most of the time they wear a flirtatious smile that has caught some people off guard.

M used to be quite rebellious before they met you, a real troublemaker, but now they have reformed. Heck, they even have a good relationship with their family and could be nominated as Miss/Mister popular from having so many friends. M is your best friend, and you share many hobbies and dislikes. But above all, they gave you a place to stay when things got rough for you.

And you may have been secretly in love with them for quite some time. If you wanted you could finally come clean about your feelings, or forget about them altogether. You decide!

Oliver/ Olivia Greene

Sex: Male/female (selectable by player).

Age: Mid-twenties.

Birthday: April 30th.

Romanceable: Yes, by all MCs.

Nickname: Oli.

Appearance: 5′8, lean build. They have light caramel skin. Oli has short textured chestnut brown wavy hair, and forest green expressive eyes.

Oli could be perceived as someone younger than their current age all because of their bubbly and sometimes silly personality. They’re full of energy and easygoing. Their close family is constituted by women only, two older sisters and their mother, leaving Oli as the youngest. They are quite popular with men and women alike. Of all ROs Oli is the friendlier and noblest of all.

Amelie Hammond

Sex: Female.

Age: Mid-twenties.

Birthday: May 7th.

Romanceable: Yes, by all MCs.

Nickname: Melly, Ami.

Appearance: 5′3, with a slender build. She has tanned brown skin and glossy shoulder-length brown hair. She likes to wear light subtle makeup that highlights her honey-brown eyes.

Amelie is a regular at the coffee shop where Oli works. She usually chooses a secluded place to sit, so she can work in peace on her laptop and always leaves a good tip. Amelie has a soft and calm demeanor but can be pretty direct when she needs to get her point across. She is not a damsel in distress.

Violet Hayes

Sex: Female.

Age: Mid to late twenties.

Birthday: February 4th.

Romanceable: Only male MCs.

Nickname: Vi.

Appearance: 5′5, hourglass build. She has rosy skin and waist-length dyed hair, and always chooses some eye-catching color. Seriously, you’ve never seen her actual natural color. She’s creative and usually does her makeup depending on her mood and hair dye at the time. She can be persuasive, especially when she looks at you with those beautiful hazel eyes.

When Violet was younger she got into modeling jobs and sadly it didn’t work out as she expected but at least she amassed a large collection of high heels. Then she started working at the bar where she met M. And sometimes it may seem like she is also enamored with M, but you are not sure why she hasn’t said anything to them yet.

Christopher Graham

Sex: Male.

Age: Early thirties.

Birthday: November 18th.

Romanceable: Only available for mid to late-20s female MCs.

Nickname: What nickname? he doesn’t have any! (Mr. Grumpy).

Appearance: 5′10, slender build. He has light skin and auburn-red messy short hair. Also of notice are his mesmerizing light brown eyes. And of course, he takes pride in always being well-dressed.

He runs an old but well-known and well-kept bakery. His bakery and the local cafe used to compete for the attention and love of new clients. But neither could declare victory for sure. Since the pastries from the cafeteria weren’t as successful as his, the owners extended an offer to him (as suggested by Oli), and they became business partners. After all the drama, he and Oli somehow got to be on friendlier terms. But don’t let that fool you, Chris is not to be trifled with and he’s also not the easiest person to get along with. You’ll come to notice he can be quite ruthless when he wants, and even when he doesn’t intend to be.

Alistair Hartfield

Sex: Male.

Age: Mid to late twenties.

Birthday: March 27th.

Romanceable: Yes, by all MCs.

Nickname: You can decide what to call him when you see him again.

Appearance: 6’4, athletic build. Alistair has fair skin and short slicked back blonde hair, paired with the most penetrating gray eyes you’ve seen.

Alistair usually uses two or three-piece suits to work and hates wearing casual clothing. He also has a killer skincare routine.

He works at his family’s company. And you and he go way back. The two of you met because your dad worked with his father, and both your family and his used to go to the company family picnics they organized. So you had to see each other frequently. He remembers you quite well, but not for reasons you might think.

Demo: https://dashingdon.com/go/12153 this is no longer used

Demo: https://dashingdon.com/go/13199 This is the good one!

#if game #my one and only #choices #wip #work in process #romance #personal development #red

[squishymochiuwu]

Eddie Munson Headcanon

Eddie Munson headcanon thoughts ft. what dating him would be like <33

reblogs, likes, and comments are very much appreciated!

(Not my GIF! ctto @suledins) god look at that smile, he's so pretty <3

Now my headcanon thoughts!

Though he may be a repeating three-time senior, I believe that Eddie is surprisingly good at math, more specifically statistics. Though he may be a complete mess, army crawling his way to graduate, I think that he’s a really smart kid.

Speaking of academics, being a DM for campaigns means his writing must be over the top Michelin star shit. I like to imagine Eddie carrying a notebook around to scribble down notes, ideas, and drawings for upcoming campaigns. Besides notes for his campaigns, some pages contain songs recommended by his lover and facts about their interests.

Though we didn’t see Eddie carrying a backpack around school and Hawkins, I like to think Eddie carries a messenger bag with patches and pins reflecting his personality. Imagine Eddie Munson walking towards you with a messenger bag slinging on his shoulder. Fucking hot. 

Speaking of said messenger bag, Wayne got the bag for him at a thrift store as a present as he got a bonus from work. 

Eddie probably throws everything in that messenger bag, his multipurpose notebook/journal, mixtapes, a cassette player (which he saved up for), some candy, those really good inky pens that you randomly find, and some black nail polish.

Eddie’s the type to wear reading glasses when he writes or reads at night, glasses slipping down his nose bridge as he frantically scribbles down an idea.

“Beth” by KISS is Eddie’s warm-up song. This man sings this song to warm up his vocals during gigs at the hideout, or when he’s in the mood to write. Just his go-to song to get in the feels <33

Imagine him writing songs at the foot of his bed, guitar perched up on his lap as fingers press chords and strum a soft melody. Notebook nearby for lyrics, the faint sound of him humming and singing softly as the desk lamp gives his room a cozy vibe <333

Eddie has a cookie tin that serves as a sewing kit container, complete with pins, thread, and a cushion with needles. Imagine a craft store run with Eddie? Eddie looking for a certain shade of black thread, to stitch a patch of said color, as someone’s grandma helps him out while you pick out a certain fabric for an art project.

Though Eddie is described as a “freak” I do believe that elderly women adore him. Eddie’s the type to flatter the elderly while helping them out. Imagine Eddie helping out the elderly in the trailer park <33  Eddie probably learned how to sew patches on his battle vest from a grandma he helps out on a daily basis.

Eddie for sure sniffs his shirts before wearing them, he’s just lazy to do laundry on some days; but when he does, he’s quite particular with how much fabric softener is needed to make his clothes smell good.

Though Eddie smokes, I like to think of him trying to cut back on them when you mention you’re sensitive to smoke. Cue Eddie sucking on lollipops every time the urge for a cigarette comes.

Do you remember the number of mugs in the Munson trailer? What if Eddie and Wayne collect them? Like it's something they both like collecting? Imagine Eddie letting you choose a mug as “your mug” for you to use whenever you come over <33

Eddie may be into heavy metal and rock, but I like to believe listening to Madonna is his guilty pleasure/little secret. Like, imagine him singing to “Like a Virgin”?? 

Tries your red lipstick to see if it would match him after seeing Paul Stanley ( Starchild of KISS) wear it.

Imagine rainy days with Eddie?? Drinking hot chocolate as your head leans on his shoulder <33 Rainy day cuddles on the porch in silence as the pitter-patter of rain lulls you both to sleep.

A/N: Please do tell me what your thoughts are! I'm completely new to writing and would love to hear what you think of my work!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #joesph quinn #stranger things s4 #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fics #eddie munson x reader blurb #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader cute #eddie munson headcannon #stranger things x reader #x reader #squishy writes

[sullustangin]

Fluffy February Day 3: Entertain

SWTOR

Rating: T (slightly spicy toward the end)

Pairing: Theron Shan/Eva Corolastor

~~

Effortlessly, his hands rolled right up the piano’s keys.  They stopped at the perfect place and struck, and the song continued on.

Theron Shan, in his cover as a casino piano player, was technically perfect.  Just as he was with dancing, singing, juggling, dealing cards, braiding hair, women’s fashion styling, magic tricks, speaking Huttese and Gamorrean, and whistling. 

Eva Corolastor, in her far less sneaky cover of a pazaak player known to the universe as EC, watched him from her seat at the bar.  She was in between tournament rounds.  The Nikto pitboss watched her, carefully, as did the other security team members with each of their charges; this was an organized drink break, to limit the potential of external comms, signals, or other advantageous contact to the players.  Every casino had its quirks.  Katalla had been different.  The casinos that dotted Nar Shaddaa varied, depending on which Hutt was the proprietor. 

What mattered was a good, entertaining game for both spectators and participants. (And Eva and Theron doing an intel collection and drop to save the galaxy.)  Eva was drinking for free, and she got to see Theron and one of his innumerable secret talents. 

“Secret,” mostly because SIS taught him and paid for it. 

Eva took a sip of her drink and let the ice rattle as she set it down.  “Secret,” because Theron didn’t value the talent enough to take pride in it.  To him, it was a tool, like a slice kit.  He never would get up on the Odessen stage and play the piano she’d hauled in one week, after winning it in a pazaak game on Ord Mantell (that, and three grazers who now lived happily on the Odessen back forty).   It got the job done.  Eva wondered if it was the professionalism or the Jedi training that refused to have an ego about it.

It was something other people couldn’t do, and Theron just… hid it away.  Only brought it out on special, necessary occasions.  He never did it for himself.  …maybe his brain classified it as ‘work,’ not ‘rec.’

A chime sounded in the casino.  Back to the tables.

~~

“You plan on staying here for the night?”  The pitboss peered down at her, with no small amount of concern.  Eva had won the first-place purse, and he had security concerns.

“Yeah, always make a habit of it,” Eva reassured him.  “I know the Hutts don’t take kindly to their winners ending up dead.”

“Puts a chill on business,” he confirmed.

Eva lifted her chin in the direction of the piano player, who was still playing as the remaining players filed out.  “How long has he been playing at this tourney?  Haven’t been here in … years,” she admitted.  That was the truth, as complicated as it was.

The Nikto gave Theron a glance.  “Him?  Five, maybe six years?”

Interesting.  Eva had wondered how he’d made arrangements so quickly for this particular drop; normally that took weeks, if not months of prep. 

The Nikto misinterpreted her expression.  “He’s a pro.  None of the lady players have had luck with him.  Granted, they normally approach him during the game, which is suspicious, from our perspective.” 

“But after I’ve already won – that’s a me problem, not a you problem?”

Wordlessly, the Nikto held up his hands and backed away from the situation –whatever that was going to be.

Eva had a pretty good idea.  She sauntered over to the increasingly lonely stage, in black shimmersilk. 

Theron played on, aware, but indifferent to her, even as she sat on the empty edge of the bench, her back to the piano.  “Come here often?” he asked, pretending to care about the answer.

“You do.  Every year for the last six.” 

That made him sit up straight, and Eva saw the vacant, bored expression of the piano player flee away. 

Eva slid down the bench, balancing on the edge so that her back went right up against his.  She knew he wouldn’t answer if she could see him.  “Why?” 

The piano kept playing for a few more lines, right through the bridge to final refrain.   “Might have been hoping … that some lady gambler would show up.  By some miracle.”

“Even with … information otherwise?”

“Especially in despite of that.” 

“And you didn’t think she’d come to you?”

“I thought the game would give us adequate cover, regardless of the circumstances.”

If he hadn’t left SIS, if she had not gotten iced, if she had escaped, if she had been in hiding, if he was loose, if there was no Alliance –

Maybe he was right that he was more likely to find her at a card table than trying to sneak into SIS.  Or the apartment he never willingly spent time in. 

“Besides, music makes things more… intriguing.” 

“Secret,” because he still wanted to surprise her and lure her right here to this bench.

Eva arched her back in way that made the silk rise up to the nape of his neck, just for a split second.  “You know, using your talents for good doesn’t mean you can only use them on the job.  You could… use them to your own benefit.  For your own enjoyment.”

Because Eva knew Theron still didn’t have a favorite song.  He didn’t dance unless asked to –

And then he abruptly shifted to the side, and she almost fell backward onto the keys, only saved by his right arm around her back.  “I’d rather show off the things that are just me, not the guise.”  No more piano player.

Just Theron and the way his eyes burned bright for her.

She grasped at his shoulder, stabilizing herself just long enough to whisper.  “Ok, then, hot shot.  Your place or mine?”

In other news, the intel drop was successful.

~~

@fluffyfebruary

#fluffy february #swtor #swtor fan fiction #theron shan #oc: eva corolastor #theron shan x smuggler

[haggishlyhagging]

As there is no remedy to sexual politics in marriage, Lucy [of Charlotte Brontë’s Villette] very logically doesn't marry. But it is also impossible for a Victorian novel to recommend a woman not marry. So Paul suffers a quiet sea burial. Had Brontë’s heroine "adjusted" herself to society, compromised, and gone under, we should never have heard from her. Had Brontë herself not grown up in a house of half-mad sisters with a domestic tyrant for father, no "prospects," as marital security was referred to, and with only the confines of governessing and celibacy staring at her from the future, her chief release the group fantasy of "Angria," that collective dream these strange siblings played all their lives, composing stories about a never-never land where women could rule, exercise power, govern the state, declare night and day, death and life—then we would never have heard from Charlotte either. Had that been the case, we might never have known what a resurrected soul wished to tell upon emerging from several millennia of subordination. Literary criticism of the Brontës has been a long game of masculine prejudice wherein the player either proves they can't write and are hopeless primitives, whereupon the critic sets himself up like a schoolmaster to edit their stuff and point out where they went wrong, or converts them into case histories from the wilds, occasionally prefacing his moves with a few pseudo-sympathetic remarks about the windy house on the moors, or old maidhood, following with an attack on every truth the novels contain, waged by anxious pedants who fear Charlotte might "castrate" them or Emily "unman" them with her passion. There is bitterness and anger in Villette—and rightly so. One finds a good deal of it in Richard Wright's Black Boy, too. To label it neurotic is to mistake symptom for cause in the hope of protecting oneself from what could be upsetting.

-Kate Millett, Sexual Politics

#kate millett #literary criticism #victorian literature #charlotte bronte #brontë sisters

[bradandchris]

Brad knew there was no more clear or better place to be free to express yourself, to be who you are without judgement, and to promote positive self image of men who like men, than a fiercely competitive nationally televised drag competition that culminated in a paraded showdown of its self-proclaimed losers deemed so via unquestioned, ambiguous, and unwritten rules.

Did you get all of that? Read it again if you need to. The library will be open for a minute.

It was true. Just in the last ten minutes of that show viewers were forced to jump through more flossy hoops than in Fergie’s earring collection just to justify their own sanity and get hooked for another episode. It was hardly surprising straight women could relate. When it came to meeting the many sets of expectations and double standards put forth by society, were we not all consumed in various orders of intricate dance?

Brad knew he could make anything WERK in part because as a gay man he had to from the get go. He could make whatever was thrown at him WERK in the very same sense slapping the word irony on anything instantly made it ironic. The difference of course being irony didn’t actually take any work. What presented itself on the show was WERK, a hole different level (yes, hole is spelled correctly), and according to gay legend that made drag OK.

Anyone could make something ironic, and it’s usually by accident. Where it gets tricky is doing it with any thread of intention. You sure better make like Madonna and make it an art or you are that person wearing the printed t-shirt and the embroidered hat that does speak truth as proclaimed but don’t realize it’s actually about them.

Eeek. That’s always painful to come across for many reasons. For one, it’s a good guess the poorly threaded failed to friend any gay men or black women because neither have the time for something like that. Each would save the other a step at the register and likely ask for the money since they’re just throwing it away anyway.

Slap a WERK on instead, and what you already knew to be nothing is suddenly something because the gays navigate more than a google of hoops just to walk out that front door. Yes. That was worth repeating.

That’s right. No need to ask ladies, the ‘Amens!’ are are all up in here already. It is just how it is right now. At least that’s what it felt like to Brad.

As many in the erotic dancer and male model industries, Brad held no doubt that show went mainstream via the same well mirrored thread as the flick Pretty Woman just with the reverse set of players. Not everyone was on board, but it was enough sassy razzle dazzle in the right place at the right time with just enough tattered frames of attention to get through.

Both earned enough money to let ruffled feathers go, and it remain tolerated by the others as it’s understood as a one time deal. Once deemed ironic something can’t be made more ironic. The same notion apparently applied here.

Brad also knew if you make the impossible WERK the first time, you’re not going to go through it again. It’s far too exhausting and who wants to live by the skin of their teeth where they already do? You’ve been there. You are there. You made it happen, and any decent queen knows how to make her peace…

‘Did everyone not see the mf rain just now?!? Sky. Water. Fell. You’re welcome. Ok then. I gots to go!’

The door slams and that’s what happened.

WERK!

The show goes on because it must.

It was here Brad heard the snap of his own finger.

Pulled out of his own thoughts and still leaning against the palm tree in his shiny new speedo, Brad realized he was really gay. Like really really REALLY gay.

Brad let out a sigh and took note of his bulge.

Well, that certainly explained having a boyfriend.

It explained quite a bit actually.

Looking at things a little closer, Brad could say this much as to his newly realized gayness…

As long as he put out, Brad felt confident his boyfriend Chris would be ok with everything.

And that he was.

#bradandchris #queer life #gay life #queer fashion #just gay things #speedo #ironic #werk #reason #queer stuff #being yourself #free expression #don't judge me #do but don’t #men in speedos #gay culture #gay comedy #higher thinking #oh the irony #really gay #model behavior #hunky men #speedo boy #gay stories