miru

“I wanna fuck [fictional character]!” “Just one night with [fictional character(s)]!” “My girl doesn’t [insert sexual activity] that’s why I cheat!” “It’s too small.” “It’s not pink.” “[Fictional character] is sooo fuckable.” “She doesn’t know how to do it right.” “He’s too small to feel good, I should break up with him.” “[Fictional character] is so boring but I’d still smash.” “She’s boring, I need two at once.” “My man doesn’t [insert sexual activity] should I break up with him?”

“LATINA FETISH, ASIAN FETISH, BLACK FETISH, he’s too chopped, she’s too chopped, BLAH BLAH BLAH!”

I dont understand why human beings are so, so, so, soooo SOOOOOOO FUCKING obsessed with sex. Hypersexual as fuck. It’s literally everywhere. It’s all you talk about. It’s fucking annoying. We get it, sex is fun, smut is fun too, moderation, people. WHY is sex/sexual content always being shoved up our ass ANY CHANCE ANYONE GETS?!! Is it all you people think about?!!?? So many of this world’s problems would be fixed if humans weren’t so hyperfixated on SEX? (You know who you are)

Why does no one ever say “I wanna cuddle with him.” “I love her personality, she makes me feel so special.” “He’s so sweet.” “I wanna buy her a cute dress.” “I’ll always love him and him only.”

I don’t need a sex obsession to be in a relationship. I don’t need sex to be happy. Neither should you.

TLDR: I think sexualizing characters/people IS COMPLETELY OKAY, but I’ve seen sooooo many people who make it their entire fucking personality and all they can think about 24/7 is dick or pussy AND ITS FUCKING ANNOYING.

Edit: To those pussies sending me anonymous inbox messages, I D O N' T G I V E A F U C K :)

tags :

nanami always adored dinner dates—they were an excuse to have you all dolled up and pretty, with him sitting across the table in his crisp suit, with candles adoring the middle of the table while your face was lit in the pretty moonlight.

ever the gentleman that he is, he always refused to let you pay, fighting you for the check to near violence, because having you in his presence is just enough for him. and treating you to good food is something that he wants to do for you, watching the way your eyes light up when you eat a dish you enjoy is enough to have him drop his entire wallet at your every beck and call.

this little setback didn’t stop you from having your own fun, of course.

right as the waiter dropped the bill at your table, nanami’s taking out his wallet—you’ve given up fighting him for the bill now, the moment you clutch your own purse, zipping it open to fish around it, seemingly to look for you own wallet has nanami pouting like a child for a. moment.

“my love, what on earth are you doing?” he questions, right before you grab what looked like lipgloss and a handful of seashells before setting it down on the table.

“im helping you pay the bill, of course.”

your face was stoic, almost dead serious, with the container of lipgloss and three pretty shells that rested before you.

“will this not cover it?” you say before setting down mermaid shells, and the tiniest jar of glitter on the table before you tilted your head in confusion while staring right into his eyes.

he tries to be serious for a second—he’s used to your antics by now, but something about the way you’re eyeing him while your collection rests next your purse is barely holding him back from bursting into a fit of giggles.

merely seconds later nanami’s snickering, trying to cover his face with his hands while you let out a soft giggle, watching his face tinge in pink while he slowly laughs at your previously dead serious expression while you set down trinkets on the table like a cat.

“gods, i’m gonna marry you some day.” is all he says, before paying the bill and setting it aside, all the while you can see the dimples crease his face at your stupid joke.

“if this was all it took, i would’ve started doing it ages ago.”

old fic i kinda liked idk. @yoonsucks @sugusplaything

dividers: @/pixopix .

nanami always adored dinner dates—they were an excuse to have you all dolled up and pretty, with him sitting across the table in his crisp suit, with candles adoring the middle of the table while your face was lit in the pretty moonlight.

ever the gentleman that he is, he always refused to let you pay, fighting you for the check to near violence, because having you in his presence is just enough for him. and treating you to good food is something that he wants to do for you, watching the way your eyes light up when you eat a dish you enjoy is enough to have him drop his entire wallet at your every beck and call.

this little setback didn’t stop you from having your own fun, of course.

right as the waiter dropped the bill at your table, nanami’s taking out his wallet—you’ve given up fighting him for the bill now, the moment you clutch your own purse, zipping it open to fish around it, seemingly to look for you own wallet has nanami pouting like a child for a. moment.

“my love, what on earth are you doing?” he questions, right before you grab what looked like lipgloss and a handful of seashells before setting it down on the table.

“im helping you pay the bill, of course.”

your face was stoic, almost dead serious, with the container of lipgloss and three pretty shells that rested before you.

“will this not cover it?” you say before setting down mermaid shells, and the tiniest jar of glitter on the table before you tilted your head in confusion while staring right into his eyes.

he tries to be serious for a second—he’s used to your antics by now, but something about the way you’re eyeing him while your collection rests next your purse is barely holding him back from bursting into a fit of giggles.

merely seconds later nanami’s snickering, trying to cover his face with his hands while you let out a soft giggle, watching his face tinge in pink while he slowly laughs at your previously dead serious expression while you set down trinkets on the table like a cat.

“gods, i’m gonna marry you some day.” is all he says, before paying the bill and setting it aside, all the while you can see the dimples crease his face at your stupid joke.

“if this was all it took, i would’ve started doing it ages ago.”

old fic i kinda liked idk. @yoonsucks @sugusplaything

dividers: @/pixopix .

in which you reunite with your junior from high school.

featuring: osamu x f!reader - downbad-ness, the miyas being menaces, osamu being the menace, and yea....

your third year of inarizaki high passes in a blur of routine and restless anticipation. by then, you already know.

miya osamu likes you. his brother does too.

you don't miss the way their eyes linger when you walk by in uniform, or how they ears perk up like eager puppies at the sound of your voice. you don't miss their excuses either --- how they drag along poor aran just to wander the third-year hall, fooling absolutely no one.

what a pair of dogs, you think then, stuck between feeling annoyed, flattered, and amused.

still, when graduation comes and the brothers mosey over to your group of friends humbly requesting photos, you say yes. you flash them a smile, quick and easy, even throw in a wink for good measure.

then high school ends.

like 940 words, gn!reader except a feminine pet name at end, umm. mentions of skin flushing/being warm and shy. idk theyre just sweeties

The warm amber light pouring from the bathroom perfectly lights Wriothesley’s face. His smile is crooked and boyish and sweet when he meets your gaze in the mirror once he sets the towel down on the countertop.

“You can be in here too, if you want,” his voice is soft, like he’s coaxing you into it. Your eyes snap to his face and squint—though you only find sincerity and a bit of red on the peaks of his cheekbones. So you slip from the silk sheets and pad over to the doorway, where you can smell the mint of his toothpaste and whatever leave-in conditioner he’s currently carding through drying strands with meticulous focus. He looks handsome and disarmingly relaxed for the amounts of nerves you feel, being this domestic and staying over for the first time.

“What scent is that?” You ask it like your heart isn’t racing from the proximity and how dressed-down and comfortable he is. You hope it means he doesn’t notice the warmth in your cheeks or how rapidly you blink when he turns his cheek to look at you and you see a dimple under his lip when he gives you a small, close-mouthed smile that you’ve never noticed before.