etherrreal

[etherrreal]

i love pasta and bread and ignoring responsibilities

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#lmao

[etherrreal]

Jujutsu Kaisen

#jjk edit

[etherrreal]

Another screencap redraw! ;) 💜

#mha art

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ushijima being one of hqs number one pussy eaters AND also having insane stamina...i fear u are not leaving his bed with working legs after falling into bed with him....he has to princess carry you everywhere for the next few hours

#so true #he would <3

[etherrreal]

Feral men

#jjk art

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goatkkotsu ocooktsu bbg

#jjk art #q

[etherrreal]

[etherrreal]

dynamight is clearly trying to go unnoticed in the grocery store, but you recognize him, anyway, despite the mask and low-pulled hat. knowing makes you feel even worse about approaching him—because you'd be too afraid to, otherwise—but you're not sure what else to do at this point.

you lean in close to him as he's standing in front of the produce, poking through the same bin.

"ooh, we need to get an onion, too, remember?"

he startles enough away from you that you can feel the foundation of your last ditch efforts crumbling. even beneath his hat, his light eyebrows pull down hard, gaze narrowing, and on the other end of such a fiery glare, you're reminded exactly why you've never wanted to meet him before: he's terrifying, handsome as he is.

"hah—"

you smile at him and hope it looks real, squishing into the space he's created even though your hands are shaking. "the guy by the juice followed me all around the store from the parking lot and i don't know what else to do." you widen your eyes, and you want to look, you do, but your facade is hanging on by a thread. "please help me."

dynamight swallows, and you hope his expression only seems so guarded because you're so close; enough to smell his subtle yet sharp cologne, to see the dark blonde wisps of his eyelashes. when he blinks, they brush against his mask, feather-light.

"okay," he nods once, and the gravel of his voice makes your stomach turn in some teenage way, that has your cheeks flaring.

(this is really not the time to be getting shy.)

he doesn't look towards the juice either, thankfully, and instead adjusts his stance, leaning into you in return, large and wide and formidable enough to nearly shield you from view. "an onion, huh? think we got one at home."

you can feel the warm press of his body against your own and it has you releasing a breath that had been trapped deep in your chest, has tears stinging behind your eyes. the sharp pain in your sternum lessens, and when you feel his hand come up to sit, carefully, against your lower back, dynamight murmurs,

"y'r alright,"

and you are.

#screams #fic recs

[etherrreal]

i feel like i've talked this to death but it's the cutest thing in the world how bakugou is affected by knowing you find him attractive.

#so true #he would <3

[etherrreal]

🌚

#them <3 #spy x family art

[etherrreal]

"i won't be able to see you for a while."

the tokyo streets slip past outside your window, but your eyes aren't quite following the scenery. you feel a little dizzy thanks to the wine satoru kept pouring over dinner—filling only your glass, as usual. it was a vintage you could never have dreamed you'd get the chance to taste only a few short months ago; a luxury so distant that you'd never once even thought about what it might be like to try. now it lingers on your tongue, stains your lips slightly, feels familiar in ways you still struggle to reckon with.

you tilt your face towards the man sitting beside you in the back of the car that's taking you home.

"a while?" you ask him curiously, though that's perhaps not the most important query.

satoru hums, smiling a little to himself as his fingers press against the pulse point on your wrist. he's been toying with your hand ever since you left the restaurant, but you've hardly paid it any notice.

satoru's touch used to be limited to the spectacle. his hands only reaching out for you when someone was there to witness it. at one time, satoru would have changed cars before his driver took you home. at one time, he would have dropped your hand the moment the door shut behind you. but he doesn't now.

you've grown strangely used to this, too.

"are you going away for work again?" you ask him when he offers no further elaboration. it's not that you're particularly concerned with where he's going, or why, or for how long. satoru's life always has been, and always will be, solely his own. you're no more his keeper than you are his true fiancée—and the funds that will be deposited into your bank account by the time you make it home this evening are testament to that truth.

but you ask because it feels like the natural thing to do.

though very little about anything you do with satoru ought to be considered natural.

"no," the blonde answers, with that troublesome lilt of mirth in his voice that always seems to precede something unpleasant. you don't ask any more questions in an attempt to ward it off.

soon you reach your destination, the rest of the car ride spent in silence after your brief but relatively benign exchange earlier in the drive. you glance out through the window towards your apartment—a building so utterly unremarkable that the sumptuous interior of the restaurant you visited that evening feels palatial by comparison.

satoru's not allowed to walk you to your door anymore. his harsh, obnoxiously unfiltered criticism of your building—of your home—each time he so much as caught a glimpse of the interior had grown so grating, you'd barred him from entering any further than the entrance to the lobby.

instead, his assistant nanami is the one who silently escorts you to your unit door each night, at satoru's unyielding insistence. he'd been surprisingly terse about it when you'd initially attempted to dissuade him, reminding him (more than once) that you make the walk to your own door every day alone and have thus far lived to tell the tale. but the options he firmly presented in reply—the only two you knew you had to choose from—were either to be escorted by nanami, or let him walk you there himself. you knew that there would be no reasoning with him otherwise, sensed it in the way he held you so fixedly in his stare that day, so you chose nanami.

now each night after satoru accompanies you on the ride home after your engagements, his stoic, well-mannered assistant dips in a polite bow at your door and wishes you goodnight before departing once he knows you've made it safely inside.

behind the wheel up front, nanami slips out from his seat, exiting the vehicle and coming around to your door to open it and let you out. the door cracks open as he pulls the handle, but all of the sudden it comes clacking closed again.

satoru is leaning over you—his weight, his warmth, the sheer breadth of him a little staggering from this close up, especially so unexpectedly—holding the door firmly shut by the handle. he stares at you down the bridge of his nose, unblinking.

"i'll see you... when i see you," you breathe out, surprisingly meek, as you sit frozen in your seat beneath him.

satoru says nothing, just watches you curiously. there's a glimmer of something that swims behind his eyes—that look he gets where you can't help but be reminded of a child playing with a new toy—that makes you shift nervously.

"you really don't want to know?" he asks you, and he's so close you can almost taste the words on his lips.

this is too near, even by his peculiar standards. satoru's hand is still wrapped tightly around the door handle to keep it closed. his body pinning you into the corner of the backseat.

you can't help but feel on edge when you're trapped like this with nowhere else to go.

"know what?" you ask him. your head is still spinning from the wine, but it's almost worse now. maybe it's only just really beginning to hit your bloodstream.

"where i'm going," satoru goads, "how long i'll be gone."

you swallow thickly. "that's none of my business."

"of course it is," satoru replies, feigning hurt. "we're engaged. it's a fiancés right to know where their partner is and what they're doing, any time they'd like."

your brow pinches in confusion. you have no interest in knowing those kinds of things, much less feel any right to know them, given the circumstances. your bewilderment leaves you at a loss for words.

"my rut's coming, you see," satoru explains, his lashes fluttering softly as he says it. it wouldn't feel so strange if his lip weren't curling up in a smirk all the while. "so for the next week or so i'll be... indisposed."

your mouth feels dry.

"oh," you manage to say, though it's not really anything at all.

one of satoru's brows quirks curiously at the sound.

"it wouldn't normally be an issue," he continues, though you didn't ask him to. "but this will be my first rut i've spent alone since i presented, so i'm not sure how long it will last."

your lips part in shock.

"alone?" you sound every bit as astonished—as scandalized—as you feel. an alpha of satoru's rank spending his rut alone is unheard of. "what about the omega servic—"

"i would never pay for those kinds of services."

satoru's tone is uncharacteristically cold as he dismisses the mere notion of it. even as a beta, you know that omega services are perfectly legal, and are strictly regulated nowadays—but upon further reflection, you're not all that surprised by his seeming revulsion towards the idea. a family as powerful as the gojo clan likely has their own reserve of omegas, each one of the highest pedigree, to attend to the needs of their unmated alphas. hell, the most eligible omegas in the country would willingly accompany him if he were to ask. you avert your gaze under his cold stare, you feel a bit silly for even suggesting—

"i have no interest bringing any omega into my bed."

your eyes snap up to meet his.

that little glimmer is still there, behind the impossibly clear blue of his eyes.

"will you take suppressants?" you find yourself asking next. still meek.

satoru's face screws up in disgust.

"that garbage is toxic," he sniffs indignantly. "snake oil like that wouldn't work on me anyway."

you remember learning about this in health class as a teen. remember how shocked you were to learn that the efficacy of suppressants decreases depending on how strongly someone's secondary gender characteristics present. it's always felt a bit backwards to you—shouldn't the strongest, least-controllable members of the population be the ones there's the most interest in subduing?

and an alpha as high ranking, as dominant, as satoru is every bit the example.

"no," he sighs, and suddenly any trace of irritation or sterness dissipates as though he's released it along with his breath. his weary tone is too thickly affected to be sincere. "i'll just have to suffer through it on my own."

from the corner of your eye, you can see nanami shift where he stands and waits outside the door, and all at once you remember where you are.

you turn your body away from satoru, angling yourself (as much as you're able) towards your exit.

"well, good luck," you attempt to sound encouraging, but the words still come out slightly ill-at-ease. you reach for the door handle, hoping satoru will get the message and release it so you can take your leave. "let me know if you need anything."

satoru's hand doesn't move.

"do you really mean that?"

you flinch a little as his lips brush the shell of your ear. he's pressed up against your back now—the planes of his chest firm against your shoulder blades as he drapes himself over you.

you're frozen again, your hand still outstretched towards his at the handle—poised in midair. the lights from outside the car glint tauntingly in the diamond on your ring finger.

his breath is hot as it breaks against your throat.

your chest feels uncomfortably tight.

"would you really help me if i were to ask?"

#oooooh #fic recs

[etherrreal]

hi i love kageyama tobio

from here

commission info here

#lmao #haikyuu art

[etherrreal]

touya is halfway through his workday, grease up to his elbows, little jumpsuit half undone down to his waist, when iguchi comes in to tell him "someone's askin' for you out here".

he's not sure who it could be, but there's no telling, so he just decides to take a smoke break and wander out of the automotive garage, maybe imagining one of siblings out on the pavement.

but the minute he sees you, he stops. nearly drops his cigarette on a rough, "oh shit."

it's been a while since he's seen you, a year or two, and the packet of paper in your hand can only mean one, bullshit thing.

"nah, nah, nah, i ain't signing any papers," is how he greets you, shaking his head the minute you start up the path with a big, determined frown. touya doesn't run, but he sure twists on his heel and starts back up the path, too, as you start calling out his name.

practically all of his coworkers are watching when he comes back into view, not bothering to hide how nosy they're being. their audience makes you falter just a tad and touya clings onto it; anything to stop you.

"never a good sign when your wife comes to find you at work."

there's a long silence, from everyone. when he looks back at you—at your manilla folder and carefully stapled documents, your petition for divorce—your eyes are heavy and wet, almost the same way they were when the two of you stood in a courtroom, lying about your age in order to pledge until death do you part.

almost. now they're just sad.

from somewhere in the garage, toga calls out a bewildered, "you have a wife?" that makes him feel a way he can't understand, both amused and devastated all at once.

your wedding ring isn't on your finger, but if he stares long enough, he can maybe see the difference in color of your skin, a former tan-line that's begun to fade.

he sold his for stuff he shouldn't have been buying, stuff that ruined him and you and your marriage, a long time ago.

but touya only smiles, and calls back, "yeah, i do."

#🥺🥺🥺 #fic recs

[etherrreal]

@ fic authors what do you personally consider a successful fic? What’s the bar?

[etherrreal]

I love summer.

#jjk art #q

[etherrreal]

Give me your version of Atsumu head canons. Bring me to the dark side.

okay but here's the thing. atsumu is the worst. he really truly is and my burning love and affection for him has been brought upon me against my will. random atsumu hcs here and then spicy thoughts beneath the cut.

first and foremost, atsumu fancied himself a player in high school but at his core, he's an absolute, two-braincelled, stupid-with-it simp when he likes someone. he invests a lot of energy in pretending that he isn't but. he is

my hc always for getting together with him is a FWB situation where he catches feelings WAY before you do and he just like suffers miserably and pines all the while working really hard to pretend to be unaffected until you finally get there too and then he's like ohthankgod

he's a very casually, physically affectionate guy. in public, at parties, alone in your apartment. he does a lot of like mindless touching of you, like doing so just settles some part of his brain, so he just. touches you a lot.

he's like a cat - the number one way to get him interested in you is to express a distinct lack of interest in him

he refuses to admit when he makes mistakes. not over like, big life or relationship things, but he definitely meant to dye his hair like bleach blond and ended up with that brassy piss color and absolutely refused to admit he wanted it to look any other way and now it's been YEARS of the piss hair color and he's too stubborn to change it

he loves volleyball and it's pretty much his singular focus, but unlike someone like kageyama, when he's not playing, he is Not Playing. atsumu is absolutely a spend the entire weekend in sweatpants horizontal on the couch and watching trash reality tv

atsumu LOVES trash reality tv. he follows the story lines on 90 day fiance and shit and shouts scandalized updates at you in the other room when he watches them

cannot cook for shit, spends a quarter of his pro salary on take out or at osamu's shop

he's messy as fuck. he really is. not dirty, but he's messy. he leaves shit all over the place, he's super mess-blind and doesn't even see the clutter he is predisposed to leaving all over the place

i do get undiagnosed adhd vibes from him

atsumu loves someone who does not take his shit. atsumu's life partner NEEDS to be someone who cuts him glances across the room and tells him to cut his shit when he's being insufferable. he prefers this. he does not want to be with someone who lets him run roughshod with his attitude. he needs an osamu who isn't his brother basically lol.

he casts a wide and heavy guard around himself, emotionally. he makes himself unlikable because he's convinced he's unlikable so he beats people to the punch and affirms that conclusion he thinks they will inevitably reach because it hurts less to lean into that role than to be like, actually emotionally vulnerable.

people have called osamu the better twin his entire life and he even agrees with it, under the bravado. which is miserable and sad and i hate it.

he is utterly and absolutely convinced that his worth as a person is tied to his utility as a volleyball player. when the day inevitably comes where he has to retire, he will have some personal reckoning to deal with.

okay atsumu is convinced his dick is magic and the worst part is that it kinda is

infuriatingly, atsumu is that smug guy at a party convinced his dick game is god-tier and then you sleep with him and it actually is and you're like, god dammit

his dick is just. perfect. thick and a little curved, definitely a shower not a grower and he's very proud of the fact that his soft cock is like, pretty big

definitely a "gray sweatpants" wearer eyeroll

he's like the only dude i've ever stanned who isn't like a selfless lover in bed and yet, he just has this like...it factor. i don't know how else to describe it. you keep expecting his ego to keep you from coming while hooking up with him and somehow you always get there, with way less time and effort from him than basically anyone you've otherwise been with - and this drives you CRAZY because you don't know what it is and it's ANNOYING because he's so SMUG about it but you can't even give him shit for it?? because he gets you there?? every time??

dude is a swittttccccchhhhhhh. a switch a switch a switch. he enjoys pulling hair and biting and topping and giving out some like, light degredation but he also loves getting pinned down and forced to take. dude is a shivery mess for overstim and edging and loves them BOTH. he strangely, for his personality, slips very easy into a more submissive role in the bedroom, and that is VERY fun, since you know how insufferable he is outside of it.

#all so true #he would <3