#But I really wanted to draw this part of it

[hedgehog-moss]

When the world feels chaotic and unstable you can draw comfort and hope from one enduring certainty, and it is...

... that Pampérigouste escaped again.

She Found A Way, and so can you—the first tenet of llama philosophy.

@ Anon from last time, please don't insult my fence again, it is truly doing its best 😔 One of the crossbars snapped because of the snow. Or the wind. Or Pampe. But I launched an investigation and found the crime scene pretty soon, thanks to her footprints in the fresh snow. (Surrounded by a whole lot of Pandolf's excited pawprints.)

Pandolf & I walked around in the woods for some time looking for a replacement crossbar—as always, he wasn't quite sure what we were looking for but was very supportive and enthusiastic nonetheless.

We found a suitably long & straight branch.

Ta-dah! All patched up. (It's hard to tie knots with freezing hands so I warmed them up in Pandolf's neck fur at regular intervals. He thought he was being petted for being a good dog. He would have probably been even happier to realise he was being a good and useful dog, at the same time.)

I felt like I had earned my morning coffee, but just to be on the safe side, I went to check another crossbar that I've been keeping an eye on as a potential Escape Spot, because it's curved and therefore lower than the others—but there were no llama footprints there.

Then I saw Pampe start trotting towards a specific part of the fence, with this cheerful and resolute gait which is always very alarming. I went after her, and discovered that she'd led me straight to another broken crossbar, and she was politely waiting for me there.

She is so confident in her abilities that she's decided she can afford to give her adversary some helpful tips.

I had no trouble getting her back in her pasture btw, the Muesli Whistle still works very well (especially in winter when she's hungrier.) She didn't really want to go anywhere; her to-do list for today was 1. test every crossbar by applying pressure with her neck to locate a weak one, lower it then gracefully jump over it to practise her best talents; 2. acquire illegal hazel catkins from the tree near my house, thus making sure I can spot her from my window and see how talented she is; 3. make me say "Pampe!!!" in that annoyed tone that she evidently enjoys hearing; 4. wait for me to go get the usual muesli bribe before following me to the pasture.

And since the other animals always end up getting some muesli as well, it's clear that Pampe thinks of her escapes as a service to her community.

[notherpuppet]

Hello dear Mare, how are you? 🙂 I love your art and I would like to know what your secret is to making it look like the original show. I wanted to know how you make the lines and everything, the hands and other similar things 💖

Hello~

Please don't get mad at me but the answer is studying 😭 Drawing is one of those things where "the only way is through" you have to study a lot. the more you draw and the more you study, the better results you'll get (it's not easy but it's really fulfilling, especially when you can see your growth. at least that's been my experience) 🪴💗 have fun!!

Edit: there was a follow up question for “study what” and sorry if it wasn’t clear but you gotta study the show. The frames/screencaps, at least if you want to replicate the style. Outside of that, figure drawing and studying other foundational drawing skills

[hencheri]

— dior girl

▸ 18+ mdni.

When Park Sunghoon wants something, he gets it no matter how hard it can be. He's not scared to get his hands dirty. If he had any morals, maybe he'd consider his obsession with you getting out of hands, but he has absolutely no morals.

| pairing. designer!sunghoon x fem!reader

| warnings. dark!sunghoon (he's not a good person lol), implied legal age gap, alcohol consumption & mention of drugs use, mention of gain weight, manipulation, corruption, violent sexual thoughts, unprotected sex, anal play, dacryphilia, aftercare because yes sunghoon's a sadist but he still has a heart.

| wc. 7.5k

| a.n.: repost from an old blog. pls forgive me for how lengthy the smut is (or thank me)!!

His studio is his sanctuary. It's the only place where he can spend hours without even noticing the moon setting or the sun rising. In his studio, it feels like time doesn't exist or that it's just a futile detail that doesn't have much importance.

When he's creating a piece, nothing around him matters. The only things he's willing to give attention to are the placements of the needles on the fabric, the little lines that form the pattern of the clothing, or the way his scissors cut through the satin material of the dress he's working on.

He's thought about this design for so long and he finally got the opportunity to make it. He's thought about the colours of the dress and of the seam, about the length of the hem and the sleeves, how deep the neckline should be and if lace would be suitable.

He doesn't even recall how many sketches he's made of that dress. At some point, it was consuming his entire mind, the only thing he could draw and think of.

Now that he's finally making it, he has the feeling that it's going to be the best piece he's ever created. He already sees everyone talking about it, saying how much of a genius Park Sunghoon is. It's going to be the design of the year—of the century.

He still misses something, though, and it might be the most important part of it all. He needs a model, the perfect body to wear his piece and present it to the fashion world.

It can't be anybody, it must be someone who's confident, who always has their head up and radiates elegance and sports a unique beauty.

Sunghoon still hasn't found this person. He constantly searches for them, but never finds them or when he thinks that he has, he discovers flaws he cannot unseen.

All the Dior models are great, but not enough. They don't spark anything in Sunghoon when he watches them strode down the catwalk. He's checked upon the apprentices and the newer models the company has hired, but he saw no one extraordinary.

Until today.

He hears steps against the wooden floor of his studio, entering the place without knocking. 

"Ah, there he is!" A manly voice exclaims and Sunghoon immediately recognizes it as his friend's, Soobin. "I have someone to introduce you."

Sunghoon raises his gaze up from his working table and looks at Soobin who's accompanied by a beautiful, young woman. He's then suddenly interested, contrary to usual where he never really cares about the many girls Soobin brings, claiming each one as the new phenomenon of the fashion industry.

When Sunghoon turns around, he eyes you up and down, barely glimpsing in Soobin's way. It's all it takes, one simple glance and he knows you're the one he needs—the one he wants and has to ruin.

Soobin introduces you both and when your name is pronounced by the man, sounding so charming and delicate, he's certain you're the model he had been waiting for since a long time.

You seem shy, arms locked behind your back, but you stand up straight and have a polite smile drawn on your face.

"I thought maybe you'd like to get to know each other, right?" Soobin raises his eyebrows in Sunghoon's direction. "Everyone's fond of her," he smiles and pats your back, encouraging you to speak up.

"Thanks," you smile back at Soobin before glancing at Sunghoon who still hasn't looked away from you. "I'm a big fan of your work, Mr. Park. You've inspired me to become a model."

The way you say his name has his cock twitching in his pants, filthy thoughts of him spanking your butt as you cry his name invading his mind.

He can sense your vulnerability, your willingness to submit. Who would he be to deny you that? Him, who is so eager to dominate the ones he's attracted to, so eager to break but also repair them.

He knows it when someone's fragile, hiding their weaknesses under fake confidence. He doesn't know you, but he recognizes the pattern almost instantly. What can be broken can also be repaired and you're asking him to break you.

"I'm glad to hear that," Sunghoon says politely, a slight smile tugging on his lips. He's not the type to smile—stretch the corner of his mouth upward to imitate the person in front of him, he finds it shallow. But for you, he'll do it, just so you trust him, so desperate to give yourself to the opposite sex. 

"Park, you were wondering who'd be part of the fall show this year," Soobin begins, looking at you like you're the most irradiant ruby in the world. "Well, you have her in front of you." 

You chuckle softly at the man's words, nodding your head at him and then looking at Sunghoon as if waiting for some praises.

Sunghoon faintly smiles, seeing your eyes glimmering and he curses himself for not finding you sooner. You'd have been his by now, his to praise, his to kiss and fuck. His to destroy. But he swears, if he happens to break you, he'll gratefully keep you safe close to him.

๑♡՞

"Careful," Sunghoon softly says as he catches you up before you can fall to the floor. You let out a high pitched laugh, as if all of this is a big joke, and push him back with a hand on his chest.

"I'm fine," you answer, shrugging him off with a flip of your hand. You stagger from left to right, leaning against the wall when you almost stumble. You laugh it off again, halting your steps.

Sunghoon looks at you with a cringe expression, eyeing the people behind, sporting worried looks on their faces.

You all went out after the show; models, designers, directors, stylists... everyone. It wasn't your plan to get drunk, Sunghoon knows that because you're not supposed to drink alcohol during your diet. A glass from time to time isn't so bad, but your consumption clearly surpassed just a glass tonight.

It's not really your fault, though. Technically yes, since you're the one who swallowed all of the wine, but you had a little help.

A little help from Sunghoon himself.

When you weren't looking, he poured more alcohol in your glass and to his satisfaction you noticed nothing and gulped everything down. Sure, you got a bit suspicious, wondering how you had only drank so little when you remembered swallowing more than that.

But Sunghoon assured you it was only your first glass, so you drank, and drank, and drank... 

Until you were more than tipsy.

You've received nasty looks from your colleagues, especially the other models who weren't drinking a single drop of wine, and yet, still weren't awarded with the status of the 'face of Dior'. How ironic that the drunkest girl in the room was the face of Dior and the little protégée of Mr. Park.

"I'll... I'll bring her to our room, you can go out without us," Sunghoon announces, watching you sit down on the floor in the middle of the corridor.

"Will she be okay?" 

"Of course. I'll take care of her."

He waits for everyone to be gone before he gets you up from the floor and leads you both to your hotel room. When you're in the room, he sits you down on the bed.

You don't say anything as he takes off his jacket and loosens his tie. He crouches down in front of you to remove your heels and he does the same with his shoes, leaving them by the entry.

When he comes back, he sees you quietly crying, the features of your face contorting into a sad expression. You've slightly sobered up, harshly coming back to reality, realizing how much you've embarrassed yourself tonight.

"What did I do?" You ask, looking up at him with teary eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

Sunghoon sits down beside you, lifting your head up with his index under your chin and his thumb over it. "There's nothing that can't be repaired," he states in a soft voice, so low it sounds like a sweet whisper—a secret, a confession only you know. "Right?"

You sniff, wiping your tears away. You nod your head in agreement, slightly reassured, hoping Sunghoon will fix your mistakes. 

"Shh, baby, shh," he softly murmurs, cradling your head in his hands and gently laying your face against his chest. You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tighter.

He strokes your hair delicately, placing a sweet and warm kiss on the top of your head.

Someone as vulnerable as you contains a lot of emotions. He has to deal with them, which doesn't bother him at all. He wants you the way you are; sad and pitiful.

"Everything's going to be fine," he promises, but it's not entirely the truth. Not everything will be fine, though it'll be in the end, he thinks—he hopes.

You eventually pull away from his embrace, just enough to look at him. It seems like you're searching for something or maybe waiting for something, your eyes desperately staring at Sunghoon as if his simple presence will make all of your problems go away.

You throw yourself at him and kiss him on the lips, fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He reciprocates it, knowing you like your kisses sloppy and messy, wanting Sunghoon everywhere on you to remind you that he's always there.

You bring him closer, wrinkling the material of his white shirt between your fists, moaning and whining as your teeth clash together at how roughly you kiss each other.

Sunghoon breaks your exchange first, both catching your breaths. His eyes observe you quietly as you look at him like you're still waiting for something.

"Did you do what I told you to?" He questions you, referring to your conversation of a few days earlier when you came to his studio to try on his dress.

You were a bit stressed out, putting on the clothing like you were scared you'd rip it. He still remembers the way the satin was sliding up your body, hugging your waist and ass perfectly. 

He was baffled at how incredibly well it suited you as if he had made it exactly for you.

And maybe it was made for you, after all.

Because when he saw his creation on you, he knew you had to wear it for the runway. It has to be you, he'll accept no one else.

Sunghoon will make you walk the runway wearing his dress—the last time you'll ever step on the catwalk. After that, he'll keep you away from the rest of the world. He'll refuse anyone to see you because you're going to be his.

His forever.

"Yes," you nod your head, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Tell me what you did," Sunghoon softly demands, holding your chin in his hand, mouths inches away from each other.

You're too shy to say it out loud and that's why he wants you to tell him. Also to be sure you did everything correctly, but mainly because he wants to see you embarrassed.

"I prepared myself for you..." you begin, holding eye contact even though you feel your face heating up just thinking about all the things you've done per his request. "I... I used lube both on me and... the toy," you continue in a shy tone, so low Sunghoon wouldn't hear you if he wasn't so close.

"Where on you, sweetheart?" He interrupts, wanting each detail, each little thing you normally wouldn't have done if it wasn't for him. 

You swallow, "On my ass, Sunghoon," you answer in a whisper. "I stretched it out for you, using the toy like you told me," you finally admit.

"Good girl," Sunghoon purrs. "Let me see it then."

You proceed to strip off of your dress, now used to be nude in front of him, and slide your panties down your thighs, discarding them away on the floor. 

You get back up on the mattress and position yourself on all fours close to the edge of the bed. Sunghoon stands up and goes behind you to have a closer look at your ass.

His veiny hands pull your cheeks apart, revealing your rim to his insatiable, sadistic eyes. You glance over your shoulder, curious of what he has in mind and what he has prepared for you. 

You softly gasp when he spits and lets the globe of spit drip down between your asscheeks, rolling over your puckered hole. You clench around nothing, relieved to have his attention, to finally feel his hands on you instead of the usual touch of yours. 

He sees that your ass is a bit more loose than the last time he saw it, but it still clearly needs more preparation to welcome his girthy cock—though it's not like he cares that much if you're prepped enough or not. 

He passes his thumb over your tight muscle, circling it and smearing his saliva over it. He wants to fuck it so bad, destroy it and do unbelievably violent things to you. Should he tonight? Should he show you his dark and evil side? 

He's choked you before—smacked your ass hard till you felt your skin stings, overstimulated you to the point your orgasms were just spasms passing through your body, fucked your throat while you were drooling all over yourself, and tied your legs and wrists together to restrict your movements. 

So fucking your ass can't be that bad, but the thing is Sunghoon wants it to be bad. He then wonders what would happen if the line is ever crossed. Would you endure it, would you defend yourself? Would you shut the fuck up and take it like you're asked to?

But you trust him so much—with all of your pathetic being—and he thinks you'd let him cross any lines he desires to. He probably already has crossed multiples, and being the poor girl that you are, you said nothing.

You truly are extraordinary. 

He gives a slight slap to one of your asscheeks, groping both of them after, feeling how soft and tender your flesh is. "You did good, sweetheart," he comments in a honeyed voice, "how about we play with it a little?" 

He lifts up a brow at you and you nod sheepishly, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. "Yes..."

"Great," he says in a low tone, running his hands one last time over your ass before going to take something from his suitcase. 

"What is it?" You question, your curious eyes landing on the small object he's holding.

Sunghoon brings the object to you, something made of metal, the end having the shape of a cone and a pink gem placed on the top. "A gift for my princess," he replies, opening the bottle of lube he brought as well. 

He applies some lube around your tight hole and on the butt plug, and carefully pushes the head of the toy in your ass. You gasp softly, feeling it slowly stretch you, sinking in gradually as Sunghoon holds your cheeks apart.

"Feels good, Sir," you moan, arching your back and pushing your butt closer to Sunghoon. 

When the plug is all the way in, the pink gem peeking out between your two globes of flesh, he smacks your other cheek, leaving his stinging handprint on you. 

"Is that so, dirty girl?" He wonders, gripping your hips and colliding his hips with your butt, sensing his bulge pulsing under his pants. "You like it when your little ass gets stretched out?" 

"I like everything you do to me," you say with a content sigh, pussy clenching around nothing as your ass gets used to the small butt plug. 

Sunghoon genuinely thinks he can't find better than you. You were so shy in the beginning, looking like a lost puppy wherever you went. You just needed someone bigger and older to show you the way—though you were too dumb, and still are, to realize he was leading you to the wrong path.

It's not like you seem to mind, anyway. 

After all, you both got what you wanted; you, male attention, someone to rely on and be protected by, and him, a woman to break and keep with him forever. 

He lets go of your hips to unbuckle his belt, pulling the leather material out of the gold loop with the luxury Dior logo on it. He lets the two ends of the belt hang off, not bothering to remove it completely, and tucks the fly of his pants down.

He finally frees his cock from the confines of his boxers, springing up and slapping his stomach, the bit of pre-cum escaping from his tip dampening his shirt. 

"You're so good to me, princess," he praises as he wraps a hand around the base of his engorged cock, aching and begging to be nestled in your cute little pussy. 

His head pushes at your entrance, never fully entering, only teasing your hole and stimulating all of your sensitive nerves. He watches how his cock stretches your cunt, your walls expending to receive his bulbous tip and then closing down when he pulls out. 

"Sir, please, want more," you beg him, pushing your ass on him to have his dick back in you. You let out a little whimper when Sunghoon holds your hips in place, stopping you from wiggling your butt side to side against his thick cock. 

He hums and slaps your ass harshly, your skin burning after. "Want my cock in your needy little pussy, baby? Is that what you're crying for?" He asks, teasing even more by swiping the head between your pussy lips, a string of your arousal sticking to his angry tip. 

"Yes," you say back quickly and desperately, arching your back, literally presenting yourself to Sunghoon. "Been so good, don't I deserve it, Sir?" You softly murmur, still looking over your shoulder to see his gaze fixated on your quivering pussy, cock head sliding up and down over your sex. 

"You do..." He responds distractedly, licking his lips, his fingers touching the pink gem peeking out from your ass. You're always so good and obedient for him, he even wonders if you ever did something that genuinely pissed him off before. 

When he really sinks in, his head passing the barrier of your sweet pussy, he groans deeply, feeling your walls envelop him tightly. 

He bends his back over yours, running his hand up your spine, feeling all the little bumps of it until he reaches your neck and shoves your head against the mattress. 

You whine when he starts pounding into you, his girth stretching you out so well, leaving you panting and moaning loudly. His other hand holds your hip against his dick, fingers digging into your skin, leaving permanent marks on your body.

He already sets a hard and rapid pace—fucking is never soft or loving with Sunghoon, it's violent, long, and agonizing. It's a way to be himself, the real and dark version of himself he hides in public, and releases when he gets intimate with you. 

You surprisingly got accustomed to it, embracing it as if it was your destiny, the reason for your existence; to be his personal slut, the little toy he likes to play rough with. You've accepted it, like you had no other choice but to be fucked into oblivion by Sunghoon whenever he feels like it. 

"You like that, baby? Huh?" He growls, as if you're the disgusting one for liking the way he treats you, to be ravished and delighted to have his cock sliding against your walls. "You like it when I fuck you hard like this?" He repeats and grips your hair, pushing your head into the bed covers with more strength. 

You babble out something, voice caught in your throat, too out of breath to formulate a simple sentence. You then only nod, your cheek squished against the mattress, Sunghoon's hand still pushing down on your head. 

His mouth hangs open to let out heavy breaths and his eyes are focused on your face, watching the little translucent pearls fall on your face and onto the bed. Your pussy swallows all of him, clenching so tightly it has him groaning and saying profanities under his breath.

It's sick how it makes his cock so fucking hard, leaking so much pre-cum in you and twitching avidly by seeing you struggle to breathe. You hold the bed sheets between your fists, doing everything in your power to keep your ass up for Sunghoon and not slump down on the bed from the hard thrusts he's inflicting on you. 

He snaps his hips against your ass and the entirety of his length is covered in your wetness, a white ring made of your cream circling the base of his cock. 

His hand holding your head descends to your neck, enclosing it with his fingers. He squeezes a little, just a bit so you know who's in control, so you never forget Sunghoon controls you—controls your life and thoughts. 

With a grip on your hair, he brings your torso up, arched back against his chest. The material of his shirt sticks to your skin, covered in a thin layer of sweat. He continues to pound into you and as he holds you by the throat, he lewdly licks the side of your face in a long stripe. 

You shudder in desire, hair standing up on your arms. "You're my little whore, aren't you, baby?" His mouth is right beside your ear as he whispers the words to you, his lips touching your hair, damp at the nape of your neck. "So fucking compliant... You want to please me so badly like the slut that you are.”

His free hand that doesn't have a hold around your throat slides down your body, passing over your belly and reaching your puffy clit. The sharp zipper of his pants graces the flesh just under your ass, irritating your skin and making it itchy. You clench around him when his digits find your sensitive bud.

"Yes, want to please you, Sunghoon," you gasp, bucking your hips at the feeling of his rough fingertips on you. He grunts when you address him by his name, loving how it sounds on your tongue, so sweet and timid. 

He remembers the first time you moaned his name; you were sprawled across his expensive leather couch, blindfolded and hands attached together with his black tie. Intense for your first time with him, but it was also the last time he's ever been that gentle with you. 

It was when his cold fingertips graced the skin of your stomach that you let out a squeak followed by his name, said in the quietest moan. He had then stopped his movements and looked at your face, an expression of distress painted over your features. 

He had realized how frail and weak you actually were, needing your most important sense to be at ease. That's why he had blindfolded you, to show you how dependent you were on him, how impossible it was for you to live without someone to guide you. 

He pushes your jaw to the side so your lips can meet in a feverish kiss, wet tongues mingling together, drool dripping down from the corners of your mouth. He continues to ram his cock in your pussy, the sound of skin against skin resonating in the hotel room. 

He traps your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whimper and close your walls around him once again. Your hands grip the material of his trousers, keeping him close and holding on to something because the hard cadence of his hip thrusts push you forward, breasts bouncing up on your chest. 

"Fuck," he curses and he suddenly stops, steadying his hips against your butt. You let out a whiny moan as Sunghoon lets go of your face and hips. 

You're sad to have your pleasure ripped away from you so hastily, but you don't have the time to complain, Sunghoon slipping out of your cunt and pushing you down violently on the mattress. 

You turn around on your back to see him unbuttoning his dress shirt and throwing it on the floor, revealing to you his beautiful chest and milky skin. He gets rid of his pants and socks after, finally removing his boxers, the only thing remaining on him being the watch crowning his right wrist. 

His cock glistens in your juices, more pre-cum leaking from his swollen tip and twitching avidly against his stomach. Even though him fucking you while being all dressed and you completely bare is a way to humiliate and degrade you, he also likes to be naked sometimes. 

He loves skin to skin contact, how your bodies stick together because of all the sweat coating you. It's addicting, it's rougher and it creates more friction—more pain. 

He doesn't mind being naked because he knows how to dominate you either way. He doesn't find it embarrassing, on the contrary, it makes him scarier and hungrier. While you shiver without your clothes on, curled up on yourself, Sunghoon is imposing, his cock thick enough to split you in half. 

He crawls back to you, hovering over you like a predator that has caught his prey, boring his eyes into yours. You look at him in awe, always waiting patiently. You feel his cock against your thigh, your hole pathetically quivering—missing his size terribly. 

He sneaks a hand between your legs and reaches the little pink gem, ready to get it out. "Take a deep breath, sweetheart," Sunghoon instructs and you inhale deeply.

He doesn't waste a second, pulling out the butt plug out of your ass. You scrunch your eyes shut at the pain, exhaling when it's done. There's still a bit of lube left on it and around your ass. He carefully sets it on the nightstand, coming back to you after. 

He bends your legs over your stomach and looks at your ass, just begging him to fuck it, shining with lube and arousal that leaked from your pussy. His cock is so close to it and Sunghoon could slide right in with one movement of his hips. 

He lets go of one of your legs to grip his erection, a little gasp escaping your lips when he presses the head of his cock at your tight hole, threatening to sink in. 

"Sir," you sigh, not sure if you're ready for that. It always burns no matter how good you prepped before and he knows that. That's why he's so tempted, staring so obsessively at your rim. 

Will it hurt you? Will you grip his biceps in an attempt to dissuade him? He wants to see those tears falling from your eyes again, he wants to lick them and tastes your pain. He feels more blood rush down to his cock at the mere thought of hurting you. 

Give him all of your pain, he'll fucking take it whole and cherish it. He wants it—he needs it. Accuse him of having a sick and twisted mind, accuse him of everything you've ever been hurt by because he'll gladly take the blame. 

"I know you can take it," he says in a low tone, glancing up at your face as he applies just a bit more force. "Can you, baby?" Sunghoon asks, waiting for you to admit how much you want it, how badly you want him to destroy you. 

"Yes..." You whisper back, a long shiver running up your spine as his eyes pierce through you. 

"Yes what? Tell me, sweetheart," he demands, and it's as if he doesn't care about your response whatsoever because the next thing he does makes you yelp in pain. 

His tip has entered you, the burning sensation forcing you to scrunch your eyes shut. 

"Yes, I- I can..." you stutter and as expected, you dig your nails into the flesh of his biceps, only fair to hurt him in return. "I can take your cock in my ass."

You take a sharp breath, eyes slowly opening, all watery and painful. Sunghoon groans at that, stuffing more of himself into you. "Good girl," he praises.

He stretches you out completely, his dick in no comparison to the toys you've used on you. You open your mouth as he pushes himself in gradually, tears streaming down your face when you blink. 

The tears roll down the side of your face and Sunghoon can't help but love the sight, leaning in to kiss your face and collect one of your tears, tasting the saltiness of it on his tongue. 

"Sunghoon!" You look at him with the saddest and most hurtful eyes. "It burns," you add in a quiet voice, now scratching his back, leaving long red trails on his skin. 

"I know, baby, I know," he softly murmurs in your ear, a husky moan leaving his mouth when he's completely nestled in you, balls touching your ass. "You're so tight, fuck," he sucks a breath through his teeth, not moving until he estimates he's waited long enough. 

He gives warm and wet kisses to your neck, going down to your collarbones and pawing at your breasts, slowly starting to move his hips. You lock your legs behind his back, wanting him as close to you as possible despite the pain he's inflicting on you. 

He loves knowing it hurts you because it makes it more pleasurable to him somehow. The pain will go away soon anyway, that's why he doesn't bother to stop or slow down. You have to get used to the feeling first. 

The choking, the hair pulling, the smacks... He keeps it for the bedroom, but he won't lie that there's a part of him that wants to ruin your life, ruin everything you've accomplished so far just so he can see those sad eyes of yours and hear you ask him for help out of desperation. 

It's not even sexual, he just wants to break you, that's all he desires. Though your life is something he wants to destroy, it's more of a way to have you dependent on him after. If your career is no longer successful, your solution is Sunghoon because he's the only person in your life capable of taking care of you both emotionally and physically. 

His teeth chew on the tender skin of your neck while his hand travels all over your body, many veins popping out along his strong arm. His finger gently circles your clit to make the pain more bearable. 

His hand that was roaming over your body comes to close around your throat and he turns his head to your side, lips brushing over your temple. "Yeah, just like that, baby," he mutters under his breath, his nose pressing down on your hair as he murmurs the words to you. "Just like that..." 

A choked moan is all that escapes your mouth. His hot breath hits the side of your face, his chest heaving rapidly while you claw at his back, white scratches appearing on his shoulder blades.

He sweetly kisses your temple as he pounds into you, not tightening his hand around your throat, just holding you in place—making sure you know that he’s always in control. 

Your tits slightly bounce up and down on your chest, little whines coming out of you each time Sunghoon bottoms out. It starts to feel good for you—really good—and you think that this pleasure is totally worth a bit of pain at the beginning. 

You grip the hair at the nape of his neck and bring him in for a kiss. He accepts it, kissing you back as if he wants to possess your whole mouth, biting and licking your lips. You moan into his mouth, twisting his hair between your fingers.

He pulls away from you, his full lips glistening in both of your saliva, and places his two palms on your boobs. He feels your perky nipples under his hands, just loving how plushy your breasts are, fitting perfectly in his palms. 

He keeps thrusting in you as he gropes your tits and you bring your hands over his, looking into each other's eyes. He lets out a low groan, holding eye-contact with you. 

You feel his veins under your palms, your pussy clenching around nothing but air while you run your hands all over his arms. You love to feel his pulsing veins under your fingertips.

"Sunghoon..." You moan his name, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of his hard cock entering and exiting your tight hole. Sunghoon takes the opportunity to smooch over your neck again as you expose it to him, his lips pressing down on your throat. "I love it," you sigh pleasantly. 

He hums, the sound coming deep from his throat. He wants to hurt you, yes, but he likes it even more when you love the pain. He just knew you were exactly like him when he first saw you. He had the feeling that you needed someone like him, someone that'd push you to your limits and make you discover a new type of pleasure. 

And he was right because there's not one time where you told him to stop.

"My dirty girl," he purrs in response, bringing his lips up to your jaw. He slowly rolls your nipples between his fingertips, pinching and pulling on them. "You're stupid, but so, so good for me, baby.” 

He slowly halts his hip thrusts and he eventually pulls out of you. You gasp when he does so, already missing his cock stretching out your ass. 

Sunghoon raises himself up from you and gets out of the bed. His erection stands tall against his stomach, bouncing up as he walks to the front of the bed. 

You watch him getting away until he orders you to follow him. "Come here," he says softly and you don't make him wait. "On your knees," Sunghoon commands when you're facing him, sinking down to your knees. 

He places a hand behind your head and the other around the base of his dick, guiding the head of his cock toward your lips as he pushes down on your head. 

"Here, baby," he instructs in a low voice. "Take it in your mouth." You part your lips to welcome Sunghoon's length, his bulbous tip shining in pre-cum and your juices under the light of the room. 

He immediately moans when he enters the warmth of your mouth, his heavy cock sliding on your wet tongue. He doesn't let you have much control, pushing his dick in your mouth until your nose touches his pubic hair. 

You relax your jaw for Sunghoon, allowing him to stuff more of himself into your mouth. He looks down at you, watching at the way your lips wrap around him tightly, your eyes starting to water. 

He begins to fuck your mouth, forcing you to take him whole each time he bottoms out. He moves his hips back and forth, obsessed with the way his girth appears and reappears between your lips as he uses your mouth as he pleases. 

"Shit," he hisses when you hollow your cheeks, "you're a fucking cockslut, aren't you, baby?" He says breathily, his eyes not once leaving his cock penetrating your mouth over and over again. 

You whine around him, surely agreeing with what he said, sending vibrations throughout his entire body. He lets out a deep moan, your cheeks and eyelashes all wet because of your tears, eyes burning as Sunghoon fucks your throat roughly. 

"Stroke your clit," he manages to say between two heavy breaths. "You can get off by yourself, right? I know you're soaking wet just by letting me use that pretty mouth of yours," he mocks you, but he knows he's right. Whatever he does, your cunt is always dripping wet. 

You whimper again, doing what he told you to and sneaking a hand between your thighs to play with your pussy. You part your legs wider as you circle your clit with your finger, Sunghoon's hooded eyes lazily watching you playing with yourself. 

Your right hand is laying on his thigh while the other is operating between your legs, pleasuring yourself to the sounds of Sunghoon's moans and the feeling of his cock weighing down on your tongue. 

You do your best to breathe through your nose, swallowing around his length and flattening your tongue underneath him. Your juices drip down your inner thighs, your finger smoothly flickering over your sensitive bud.

The whole room is smelling like sex, an odour that Sunghoon can't ignore, loving it so much. Your lips glide so easily over his hard cock, completely covered in your spit and still some of your wetness, tasting yourself on him. 

"Ah, fuck," he curses, his head rolling back on his shoulders, eyes still strained down on you. He feels the familiar burning sensation at the pit of his stomach, indicating he's really close to his orgasm. "Go on the bed, baby."

You're taken aback, but you follow his order, pulling him out of your mouth and laying your back down on the mattress close to the edge. You beautifully moan when Sunghoon penetrates your pussy, bending your legs over your stomach. 

"Oh, god," you cry softly, being pounded onto the bed right away, tits moving up and down on your chest. 

His hands are positioned on each side of your shoulders, snapping his hips against yours so harshly it hurts. You keep doing circle motions on your clit, now faster and impatient to reach your high. 

You let out a high-pitched moan when Sunghoon suddenly steadies his hips over yours, dropping down to his elbows as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. "Holy fuck," he grunts, gripping the bed sheets tightly in his fists beside your head as his cock twitches in your cunt. 

"Yes, yes," you quietly exclaim, your orgasm passing through you, making you arch your back and buck your hips. 

Your pussy clenches repeatedly around him and he finally comes undone into you, shooting long, thick ropes of cum deep in you. When he slips out of you, more spurts out of his tip, landing on your pussy, covering you in his cum. 

He stays above you for some time, catching his breath and looking at the mess he made of you. 

Later, Sunghoon is in the shower, washing his hair and his body, passing a soft cloth soaked in soap over his chest. He lets the water fall over his head, wetting his black locks. He stays maybe a bit longer than normally, staring at the tiled wall. 

He thinks about you, about all the things he's planned. He revised everything in his head, imagining you walk on the podium wearing his dress, people looking at his piece with admiration in their eyes. 

He thinks about everything that will go down for you after the show, getting fired, losing your career and your fans. Many articles talking about your excessive use of alcohol and drugs, saying how tired and sad you look beside Sunghoon. 

You won't last long, you're too weak anyway. A downfall like this is unconquerable, nobody recovers from that, and surely not a model who will be thrown out of the industry as soon as you turn twenty-five. 

Sunghoon knows the industry, he's been in it for years now. He's aware of how cruel it is, how difficult and harsh it can be on fragile little girls like you. 

But that's why he's here, he'll take care of you once nobody will want you anymore. That's the goal, after all; you to be finally his—solely and completely. 

"Sunghoon?"

Your voice reaches him, turning his head in your direction, seeing you hesitantly entering the shower with him. He opens his arms, inviting you to come closer and you do, hugging him and laying your head down on his wet chest. 

"I love you, sweetheart," he softly murmurs against your hair. "I'll never leave you, you know that, right?" 

You nod your head, looking up at him and meeting his gaze. "I love you, too."

๑♡՞

The runway went incredibly well. Celebrities and journalists were all gathered for the fall show, totally amazed by every design and the models that were wearing them. 

But there was one specific piece that everyone was willing to say was the best. 

Sunghoon was satisfied to see that his name stood out amongst everyone else's, being mentioned more times than Dior itself. He predicted it; it was the creation that every guest remembered, the dress that the fans were only talking about. 

He'd take all the credit, he was the one who imagined it and then sewed it after all, but he has to admit that you contributed to the fame a lot. 

Being the beloved face of Dior only made people talk more about it and that was what Sunghoon needed. 

But every good story has an end, doesn't it? 

When Sunghoon comes back to his apartment, the place is silent except for the TV playing, as he thought it would be. You're looking through the window, the city draped in the dark, splotches of bright yellow light flashing in front of your eyes. You're sitting on the sofa, not even acknowledging his presence as he enters, getting rid of his shoes. 

You're not much of a talker since you've been fired from Dior a few days ago just after the fall show. He understands your wish of remaining silent, needing a bit of space to process everything that happened the past weeks in your head. 

It was going to happen soon or later anyway. You've been to your photoshoots completely drunk, sometimes just going in with a hangover, but of course it didn't help your case at all. 

Sunghoon was guilty for letting you drink alcohol so soon in the morning. No need to deny it, he was even the one dropping you off at work like that. Well, he had to do it if he wanted people to notice how far you've fallen. 

He doesn't feel bad, though. Your career wasn't going to last with or without Sunghoon's sabotage. He did you a favour. 

You can't handle being a model. If you could, none of that would have happened. You wouldn't have gained weight, you would have been suspicious of the amount of calories Sunghoon was feeding you. The bottles of wine wouldn't have been so tempting and smoking weed wouldn't have ever occurred to you as a good idea. 

You shouldn't be ashamed of it, sometimes things just don't work out like we would have wanted them to. 

"Did you see the article they wrote about me?" You ask, still looking outside. "You surely did, I bet that's all they're talking about..." 

He sits down beside you and you eventually turn around, facing him. You care so much about what others think of you. It must be so tiring having such a low self-esteem. He can only imagine it; seeing you look through the window like a sad puppy, your life finally making sense when Sunghoon comes home. 

"I did, but nothing of that matters to me," he answers, the most honest he's ever been. And even if he had to lie, it's not like you wouldn't have believed him. You always trust whatever he says. 

You don't reply, your head still filled with many thoughts. 

"Hey, come here," he softly tells you, patting his thigh. You straddle his lap, setting your hands on his shoulders. He cups your chin, forcing you to look at him as you keep avoiding his gaze. "Whatever they say, whatever their name is, nothing will ever be more important than you." 

Because who is he if he lets some article affect the way he sees you? He's known you since the beginning of your career and he stayed till the end of it. 

He knows you better than everyone else. He was with you during your highs and lows and he'll still be there for the next ones. There's nothing in the world that could make him leave you. After everything he's done to have you, there's no way he'll go away. 

How cowardly of him if he does. He can't leave when he's promised he'd heal you—close all of your past wounds and create other ones. He may be selfish, but there's one thing that he isn't and it's a fucking liar. He sticks to his words, and when he says he'll never leave you, that means he'll never, never abandon you—he'll never leave your side, not even once. He can't risk it.

[summertimesadnessirl]

They literally just want to pretend that the whole last 50 odd years never happened.

It's so weird. Like? What did you do that you are like this, buddy? Let's talk about it.

Are you upset because you got programmed from birth to believe sex is evil and now you can't get off unless you think God is mad at you and you're committing a crime and one of the people involved in the sex hates it?

Have you heard of BDSM? Because we can literally simulate that feeling just for you using technology for the rest of your life without you having to take over the entire government and kill off a bunch of nice kids with blue hair and shaved eyebrows or who go by a word that makes you think you can't be a naughty boy for wanting to have sex wearing clothes from a different gender occasionally, and those people literally don't care if you wanna be called slurs for doing that when you have sex, believe it or not.

What's your deal? Did it turn out you don't like sex, you just like the idea of something mysterious and otherworldly and pleasureable that nobody introduced you to that other people are totally doing? Because we can fix you right up with drugs and intentionally confusing poetry.

Yeah. You can even start your very own mystery cult if you want, as long as you don't commit genocide or anything. We can all pretend to not know about your mystery cult. We can all pretend to be bad guys from your mystery cult. We can play that game until you barely remember your own name, it's fine.

Do you just need someone to take care of you, like in a disability accommodation kind of way? Or like, are you working too many hours? We can't really fix that with bdsm. We can play that but typically the people doing bdsm only want to play that for a few hours at a time before they need a break, but have you heard about the wonders of automation?

Yeah. We can automate a lot of the stuff that stresses you out like cleaning your floors and paying your bills on time and reordering your prescriptions and your groceries and stuff. It would work better if the minimum wage was higher and the average person got paid more often than biweekly, and we still really need to design housing with a washing machine in the bathroom that washes and dries your clothes instead of putting them in the hamper, but look, we made a little guy who lives in your computer who can take every meeting that should have been an email and turn it into a bulleted list for you. We can also do this thing where he draws pictures of your boss experiencing cartoonish violence or turning into like a weird bug when you are being bullied and it can protect you pretty well from The Emails as well. Yes. I know. The emails are scary.

If your job is really stressing you out you should meet my new friend fully automated luxury communism sometime. Their idea is that we should automate all the jobs where it seems like most of your day is spent kind of hanging out hoping that your boss doesn't realize you aren't working and getting a super high cortisol level for no reason or filling out forms to send to people who use the forms to fill out other forms who get approval via some more forms to make a phone call to a guy who works 20 feet away and give everyone a dividend so that they can work fewer hours and hang out. Yeah, there are a lot of people who believe this who enjoy fighting over the details of that, it's their hobby and also they're all afraid if they don't fight one another a lot they'll turn evil. No, not the sexy kind of evil, the other kind.

Do you need clearly defined rules that you are supposed to follow in social situations in order to feel safe, but also bdsm isn't your thing because you also need other people to follow clearly defined rules? Have you tried video games, team sports, or tabletop games? You might like those.

Did someone hurt you when you were young and call it gender and you didn't realize it because you thought that was just a normal part of growing up and you are getting uncomfortable flashbacks about that time, but talk therapy super doesn't work for you because talking about it makes it worse? That's valid. Have you tried psychedelic drugs yet? Psychedelic drugs have been used to fix that problem and many others like it for generations and generations. Using the magic of psychedelic drugs, we can make sure that you feel totally fine and safe whenever you interact with people being raised in a different way than you were and even carefully obliterate all traces of your childhood trauma for decades at a time. We also can continue to give you more, if that works for ya.

There's really no reason to do nazi shit at all.

Btw, this is how conservatives keep getting to claim that trans people are a new thing no one has ever heard, because our history and existences have continually been erased or obscured systematically through out history.

The most famous example was 92 years when the Nazis raided the library of the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, the medical practice where the term transsexual was first coined and the first gender affirming surgery was performed in in 1931.

What did the Nazis do after raiding the library on May 6th, 1933? You may be familiar with these images

It is happening again.

[2isted-chocol8-art]

Post-loop shenanigans that are just an excuse to show Riebeck some love 😌 -> More Outer Wilds Art!

[leighsartworks216]

His Beautiful Nose

Sylus x gn!Reader

This is all I think about when I see him sometimes, genuinely. I just see his nose and I go a little insane

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, kissing, biting, teasing, silly

Word Count: 1,001 (all my fics lately have had such satisfying word counts ough so good)

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"Sweetie, what are you doing?"

You shush him, focused on whatever the hell you were up to right now. Sylus quirks a brow at you.

"I think I have a right to know, since you're holding my face hostage," he teases, speaking in a languid murmur, raspy.

You'd found him asleep in one of his many lounge chairs; legs out, arms crossed, head back. It was impossible to ignore the desire to sneak around behind the chair and hold his face. Of course, doing so woke him up, which led you here.

"I'm just appreciating how pretty you are," you tell him. And it's not technically a lie. You are appreciating his beauty. Just, a specific part of his beauty.

"And you can't sit in my lap and do that?" He reaches back behind the chair. His large hand finds your back easily and begins tracing light shapes into your sides, your spine - wherever he could reach.

You giggle and squirm away from his ticklish touch. "No, now stay still and hush."

He huffs with exasperation, but he does as you ask. His hand settles on your lower back, loosely holding you close. He appreciates you in turn with his crimson eyes, half-lidded with sleep.

You run your thumbs along his cheeks. His skin is smooth, pliant beneath your fingers. He seems so untouchable - and he is. To everyone that isn't you. The fact you're this close means more than you'll ever be able to fully grasp.

You lean down and press a delicate kiss between his eyebrows. His fingers twitch against your back. You trace under his eyes, coaxing him into closing them and putting his full trust in your hands. You kiss the spot again.

The next spot your lips find is perhaps half an inch down, at the point where his nose begins protruding from his face. It's an odd place for a kiss, he thinks. You must be up to something, yet he allows it anyway.

Kisses are slowly peppered down his nose. Each one takes its time, each following the strong line of his nose, over the bump and the wide bridge, down to the tip. Each one pours into the lazy smile tugging at his lips. You really woke him up just to "appreciate" his nose?

The kisses retreat towards his brow, but never reach it. One kiss, then two placed at the most prominent part of his nose's definition, and then-

He cracks an eye open. "Did you just bite my nose?"

You hum with a slight nod, kissing over the spot again. "I've been wanting to bite it for weeks now. This seemed like the perfect opportunity." Despite the nonchalant way you say it, he can practically feel the heat radiating off your face and onto his.

He chuckles softly and draws you closer by your back. "Do it again."

Truly, you didn't expect for that to be his response. You anticipated this being the one and only time you'd ever be allowed to do this. But he's encouraging it, with clear amusement.

Your teeth settle on either side of the bridge of his nose and not very far down, not even as far back as your canines, and gently bite down. It's not a lot of pressure, either. Realistically, it's more of a light nip, but he hums his approval. When you pull away, your lips catch on his skin, just as his do when he bites your hand. It's perfect.

His eyes watch now with unreserved affection. His hand trails up your back, reaches to cradle the back of your neck and the base of your skull. "Come here," he murmurs lowly. You're guided forward, drawn down as he tilts his head further back to meet his lips.

Your mouths move together in languid, drowsy kisses. The faint wet sound of your lips parting and shared, soft breaths fill the room. His nose presses against your chin, and yours in his, but neither of you move from the awkward angle except to deepen the kiss.

You feel the smirk on his lips before you see it. He pulls away and your body is suddenly weightless, floating through the air, carried by playful tendrils of energy.

"Sylus! What're you doing?!" You're flipped over him, slow enough you don't get lightheaded, to the front of the chair and directly into his lap. His arms wrap powerfully around your waist to draw you against his chest. Light kisses trail along your neck.

"You woke me from my nap. It only seems fair to keep you here," he says against your skin.

There's no point trying to push his arms away or wriggling free. He's much too strong for that. So, you give in. You sigh with a playful roll of your eyes and lean back into him, trying to find some comfortable position. Once you're settled, one of his arms slips from around you, and gently fingers turn you by your chin to face him.

"I also need to return the favor, don't I?"

He takes his sweet time doing so. A trail of kisses, all light pecks, winds from your jaw to your chin to your cheek. They finally come to your forehead, where he places one between your brows. Down to where your nose begins. Down over the bridge, to the tip, and back up.

Your breath catches in your throat as he tilts his head and carefully lines his teeth up in just the same way you did. He bites down, gentle in a way that seems unfathomable to anyone else who knew him. After a second, he pulls away, lips catching on your skin.

He leans back into the chair and guides your head to his shoulder before wrapping his arm around you once more. He sighs, long and low, with content. "Wake me up in four hours," he murmurs.

"And what am I supposed to do until then?"

"You should have thought about that before you snuck in, sweetie."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08

[wakayrd]

More theatre stuff! I've started to put all the theatre doodles I do under a tag called "isat curtain call" because I wanted to be organized lol

MIRABELLE! Mirabelle is kind of a powerhouse at the theatre. She acts in a lot of the plays they put on (and gets really nervous before going on stage). She has lots of folks who are her neighbors or friends who attend shows and always overwhelm her with tons of flowers. She appreciates it but it can be a bit much! She's always around to help- She will show up for set construction, set decor, lighting design... anything- and all on top of acting! She's even the theatre's health and safety rep! (the little bit at the bottom is inspired by true events... yeah...)

Bonnie!! Bonnie started volunteering with the theatre recently after coming to see a pantomime for Peter Pan. They love to help out with the snack bar, and even wear nice clothing for the shows to look all professional. They also usher sometimes! All with adult supervision of course. They are allowed to come help with set decor (painting the set!) but NOT set construction. They sometimes convince their older sister to stop by the theatre when everyone else is working to drop off homemade goodies. They also like to hang out in the sound/light booth, the stage looks so different from up there! They're close with Odile, who shows them a ton of stuff. They hope that sometime they can also start doing the light cues during a show. They don't want to work near Siffrin backstage, even though that's something they could perhaps start doing now.

Sometimes... it feels like there's something in the theatre, hanging out in the catwalks, judging silently. Maybe... someone... But if you turn around to see them, they're gone! The theatre might be haunted, who knows. That seems the most plausible theory... Siffrin tends to spend a lot of time on the catwalks as well. Perhaps he'd know more about this mysterious spirit of the theatre?

The Spirit of the Theatre! (Loop!) They're always around. They're actually convinced that they're not able to leave the theatre. The hat? They stole it from the costume room! It makes hiding that glow ever so easy- Sometimes they steal coats or matching robes from there, just to make hiding easier. They're so knowledgeable in all things theatre, especially the theatre the group operates out of. Sometimes they spend their time alone at the theatre straightening up the props room or making sure all the actor's props and costumes are in their proper places. It really seems like they consider themselves an integral (and invisible) part of the team. They like to watch from afar, that's all. Meeting Siffrin was an accident, one that The Spirit of the Theatre couldn't avoid. Now they have to deal with Siffrin coming to talk to them often, even looking for advice. It's unclear how long they've been there, and when asked for a name, will only say they're the "Spirit of the Theatre."

And that's it from me today I promise I am normal lol I am having fun watching this all form in front of my eyes a little. It's mostly silly goofy stuff and as much as I'd love to stick to canon best I can, I may have to fiddle with it to get it to make sense... especially for Loop :) but if you have any ideas or stuff my inbox is so open I love talking about this- these drawings were stacked up from the last couple of days just me preparing to post... teehee!!

[vitch-with-v]

Hey remember this? I do, so here's the proof

TRIGGER WARNING: UGLY ASS DRAWINGS FROM WHEN I WAS A PRE-TEEN AND LORE DROP

These are some of the first appearances of Joaquín, my "male version". He got his name after what my mom was gonna name me if i was born a boy

I had made a chart explaining all the different characters that were divisions of myself (cuz there were a lot) and here is Joaquín, who was not only my male version but also my self-esteem

Worth noticing: no, i don't have split personality or any kind of similar conditions, i was just a weird kid and i thought it was cool to give names and faces to different sides of myself, i haven't done that ever since, most of them didn't even survive past 2019, expect for him

His "presence" grew stronger in the start of the quarantine, cuz i was bored and very lonely :(, so he was basically an imaginary friend, that's why i usually drew him just hanging out with me (longer hair, pre-trans lol)

This is ME when i decided to cut all my hair off, wich is when i started questioning my gender, at this point i thought i might be non binary, but Joa still lingered, cuz i mean he was a really important character for me yk?

↑Me and Joa after my haircut... Yeaaaaahh....

Here it says "im gonna change Joa's name" (it says "don't ask why" under it, not pictured). This is also when i went oh shIT I MIGHT BE A BOY- so u can imagine WHY i wanted to change his name, you know, the name i was gonna have if I WAS A BOY??? Yeah, that didn't work out anyways cuz i ended up naming myself after some emo guy from an australian tv show that changed my brain chemistry so :p

This was also the last time i drew or ever mentioned him, after this he basically fucking died and i forgot about him completely + i stopped drawing and journaling for like a year or so (consider that i used to do it almost every day)

I find it crazy looking through my old sketchbooks and seeing my actual self from today be depicted as a "character", this is literally how i draw myself TODAY (with a lot of improvement ok? This is from like 2020/2021)

And i almost forgot to mention, but i was a hardcore fujoshi in 2019 (wich really fucked me in the head cuz it's not good to be reading porn at such a young age but oh well-), and so i used to ship Joa with one of my best friends oc's and we'd joke that they were gay and jaja funny they're gay yk hehe jiji jaja yk?

Thanks to the quarantine i started interacting with ACTUAL queer content, made by ACTUAL queer people, depicting what it's ACTUALLY LIKE to be part of the lgbt+ community, and not the fetishization of gay men made by and for (mostly) straight women, wich also made me feel real bad cuz i was like "oh no I've been fetishizing gay men all this time! Im a straight woman, it's weird for me to like gay men so much!" And honey do i have news for you :).

But i was pleased to find im not the only one that went thru the "fujoshi straight/might be a lesbian girl to transgender gay man" pipeline, it's crazy how there is no original experience, ive seen a gazillion fuckers who went thru the same shit, wich is surprising cuz how the fuck u go from "might be a lesbian" to "im a gay man", but hey, at least im not alone :))

If you read all that, you either really wanna know me, you have too much free time, or u need help HSKSHAKA. But yeah, jst wanted to share my experience, bc i still think about it till this day, and i still think of him every now and then

I don't think im ever bringing him back, or maybe i will, who knows, but for now he has a home in the black box with all my old sketchbooks, and i hope he's comfy in there ;)

the song made me giggle a lil as a trans guy

[mommyslittlebird]

What the Body Wants

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

Summary: Now that you’ve decided to stay home for good, Wanda decides to take a step further into her role as your mama. The side effects bring out parts of her you’ve never seen.

CW: Stepmom/stepdaughter, induced lactation, breeding, cum strap, ovulation, light choking, W wants a baby, R is lowkey a bad fuck, R is confused but enthusiastic

Word Count: ~5k

A/N: Writer is also confused but enthusiastic. I’m not entirely sure I did this right but I like how it turned out and I really loved the premise. I hope this lives up to the hype/the rest of the series!

Part 5 of Her Special Girl

———————————————————

Coming home actually turned out to be a bit of a better deal than you expected. You’d half prepared to be regretting your decision by now, longing for the dorm life and solitude that moving away had given you. But, in reality, that college had never really given what you had hoped it would, so it didn’t feel like you were leaving anything behind.

Home life had also improved in the years you went away. A new custody agreement between Wanda and her ex-husband meant the boys were gone every other week, and they had grown up enough to not be riding Wanda’s coattails like they had been when you left. Your father was still deadweight, but he fell asleep early and stayed at work late, so even he was only an issue on occasion.

Even though it was only a 15 minute drive to campus, you adjusted your schedule to only have in-person classes on Tuesday and Thursday so you didn’t have to go everyday. So you spent most days in the bay window of Wanda’s office with your laptop and a lap desk, silently working on classwork while she sat at her computer.

Since you’d decided to stay home 2 weeks ago, Wanda had started the process of induced lactation, a thing the two of you had discussed in the past. You couldn’t help but be fascinated by the process. She would sit down on the couch or in bed, and spend around ten minutes with the funny looking devices hooked up to her chest. She still had an electric pump from when she had the twins, and you love to watch in awe as the clear plastic methodically massaged your mama’s nipples. She’d simply be reading a book or watching TV, but your eyes never left her chest.

If you asked nicely, she would let you help her use the manual pump. It never failed to amuse her how seriously you took this task. You would straddle her lap, furrowing your brow and sticking out your tongue slightly in intense focus. You always made sure the cup was placed perfectly, and you watched her face to gauge her reaction as you started to squeeze the pump. You were so receptive to anything she told you, whether you needed to squeeze it a little bit more, or if you’d gone too far. You always felt so honored to be allowed to take part in the process.

Your favorite, though, was when she invited you to join. She always insisted that the best form of stimulation was your suckling. She would lay you across her lap, running her hands through your hair, telling you that you did it better than the machines ever could. You spent 10, sometimes even 20 minutes on each side longing to draw out the process for as long as possible. Occasionally, she’d let you suckle on one side while she hooked up the electric pump to the other. She seemed to get extra stimulated on those days, hardly able to sit still even with your full weight in her lap.

On this particular afternoon, the two of you were curled up on the couch watching one of Wanda's favorite movies. You thought it was a little boring, but you weren’t going to complain while you curled up in her lap, securely wrapped in a soft blanket. The boys were at their dad’s house, your dad was at work and wouldn’t be home for several hours, and Wanda didn’t have any meetings this afternoon, so you didn’t have to worry about getting caught.

You wiggled around a little, trying to get comfortable, and you accidentally pushed your shoulder into Wanda’s chest.

She winced and sucked on her teeth. “Careful baby,” she whispered. “Mama’s a little sore.”

“Sorry, mama,” you apologized, turning to face her while carefully avoiding hitting her again. She took her breast in her hand, gently massaging it to ease the tension. You could see through gritted teeth how sore she was. You wanted to help her in any way possible. “Do you need a massage?” You asked innocently.

She perked up a little bit, intrigued by the offer. “Do you wanna give mama’s breast a gentle little massage?”

You nodded, and she slipped her shirt off over her head, revealing her chest. You could’ve sworn it was growing, though not so much she couldn’t hide it with baggy clothes. She took your hand in hers and slowly raised it to her breast. She could see you were nervous. You didn’t want to hurt her.

“It’s okay baby,” she reassured you. “You aren’t gonna hurt mama.”

You bit your lip, determined to do a good job and ease her pain. She was doing this for you, after all. You cautiously massaged the skin with your fingers, working your way carefully around her chest.

“Mmm,” Wanda hummed, throwing her head over the back of the couch. You could see her chewing the inside of her cheek, breathing shakily through her nose.

“Is this okay, mama?” you ask, concerned. “Do you need me to stop?”

“No, sweet girl,” she assured. “Don’t stop, just a tiny bit harder… ahh. You’re doing such a good job making sure your mama is all taken care of.”

“Mama?” you asked nervously.

“Yes, sweet girl?” she responded breathily.

“Is it hurting your body? To try and make milk for me?”

Wanda sat up straighter and cupped your soft, worried cheek. “Aww, sweetheart. You’re not hurting mama, baby. Mama is doing this because she wants to. And it doesn’t hurt so much as it’s just sensitive.” She stroked your cheekbone with her thumb, noticing how worried you still seemed to be. “Can mama tell you a secret baby?”

You nodded and leaned in, pressing your ear to her lips even though you were the only two people in the room.

Wanda dropped her voice to a whisper, playing along with your overly stealthy approach. “Mama’s body is reacting like this because all this pumping is making it want a baby.”

She took your hand, sliding it down her body and into the front of her pants. You nearly gasped as you felt through her thin underwear just how soaked she was. You pressed lightly into the wet patch, sliding two fingers up her slit through the fabric. She inhaled sharply, already grinding up against your hand. “It’s so sensitive, baby.”

She pulled back, gauging your reaction. There was a glint of recognition in your eyes. You were familiar with this sensation.

—----------

You stood in the doorway of her office, anxious and sweating. Your body felt it was on fire, tingling from your fingertips all the way down to your toes. You typically had a decently high sex drive, but you couldn’t remember a time when you’d ever felt this needy. It would have been easy enough to go to your room and masterbate, solve the problem on your own, but you wanted more. You wanted Wanda.

“Mama?”

Wanda turned her office chair to meet you. “Yes, sweet girl? What can I help you with?” She opened her arms, signaling you to come in.

You sat down in her lap and laid your head against her shoulder. She cradled the back of your head, stroking your hair softly with her thumb.

You hadn’t exactly planned to press your lips to her neck, to gently suck at the skin under her ear, but you were so hot, and her skin looked so soft, and you were so close, and she smelled so nice. And god, the taste, the sound you drew from her lips, the warmth of her skin. You needed her so badly. You slid your hand under the hem of her shirt, sliding your palm across her warm stomach.

“Sweetheart?” she said in a warning tone, using her hand to gently pull you from her neck. “What are you doing?”

She looked down, finding your eyes already glazed over with lust. You were hot to the touch, and just the simple tug of your hair pulled a low moan from your throat. “I need you, mama….”

She swallowed hard. It took a herculean amount of strength not to throw you over her desk and take you right there. If she hadn’t been a tad concerned that you had lost your mind, she would have. “Baby…” she asked. “What’s going on? Talk to mama.”

Your eyes looked into hers, pleading for more. Anything to take away the aching from between your legs. “It… I feel… It’s all so tingly. Everywhere. It… it hurts mama.” You were practically begging her to rip your clothes off and fuck you senseless.

“Ahh,” she hummed in recognition. “It’s that time of the month, is it?”

You furrowed your brow, confused. “What? No. My period was last week.”

“So your ovulation is this week,” she posited, smiling devilishly. “I’ll have to start keeping track of it, if it’s hitting you this hard.”

You groaned and buried your face into her shoulder while your hips bucked against her lap for any source of friction. You didn’t exactly know what ovulation was or what it had to do with you being so unbearably horny, but you weren’t exactly in the mood for an anatomy lesson.

Wanda kissed your head sympathetically and rubbed gentle circles on to the small of your back. “I’m so sorry, little love. Mama will take care of you in just a minute, just let me email Tasha and let her know I’m taking a long lunch.”

Thankfully, Wanda was true to her word, wrapping up her things rather quickly and carrying you to the bedroom. Your body hummed with electricity as she gently undressed you, making sure to egg you on with wet kisses and random hickies placed sporadically across your skin. You nearly jumped off the bed when she finally touched you, running a single digit up your folds and standing back to admire the results.

“Oh sweet girl, look at this,” she purred, holding her fingers in front of your face, covered in your excitement. As disinterested as you were in anything other than her hands and mouth on your body, you were admittedly a bit curious as to why it looked so different. What was usually a thin, clear liquid was now thick and white. She brought the fingers to your lips and you obediently took them into your mouth. “Do you know why it looks like that, sweetheart?”

You shook your head, quietly moaning at your own taste.

She leaned forward, whispering into your ear. “It’s because your body wants mama to give you babies.”

Just the raspy way the words left her mouth sent your hips flying off the mattress in a jolt of arousal. She stilled them with her hands, moving to kneel between your legs.

You had always had a pretty strong preference for missionary. You like to wrap your arms around Wanda’s waist and bury your face in her neck to stifle any sounds that she pulled out of you. This time, however, Wanda grabbed your legs and pushed your knees to your chest, gripping your thighs just below the underside of your knee.

You whined, feeling too far away from her, but she bent forward and kissed your head. “Shshsh. It’s okay sweet girl. Mama’s got you.”

You almost wanted to protest, but as soon as the tip of the toy hit your skin, any objections melted away. It was bigger than the toys you typically used, but you were so soaked the first four inches still slid in with ease. Your body momentarily seized and you breathed out a straggled moan.

Wanda took it slow at first, leaning forward to kiss your face and whisper words of encouragement as she gently eased the toy deeper and deeper with each thrust. “That’s it. That’s my pretty girl,” she cooed. “You look so pretty stretched out around mama’s cock, baby. Does it feel good? Is this just what you needed from mama?”

“Uh huh,” you moaned, eyes already starting to roll backwards. Your face flushed red when you realized you had nothing to cover your mouth with, leaving you squeaking and whining uncontrollably with each thrust.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream as Wanda bottomed out. You quickly realized the reason Wanda had you folded over like this: the strap could go impossibly deep, stretching you out in ways you’d never felt before. It was like she was kissing your womb with every stroke.

She groaned, slowly but firmly thrusting in as far as she could and holding it there before pulling back again. “Look at you, honey. Mama’s got you nice and ready. Are you gonna be a good girl for mama and let me give your body what it needs? Are you gonna let mama give you her babies?”

You bit down hard on your lip. You didn’t really understand what she was talking about. She couldn’t actually get you pregnant, but you did not care. You nodded eagerly, looking up at her with pleading eyes. “Mhm.”

“Say it for me. Tell me you want mama to fill you with her babies,” she commanded gently, continuing her slow and careful thrusts.

“I want… I want your babies mama. Please. Please mama I want you inside me forever,” you whined. Still you didn’t exactly understand what you were begging for, but the glare in her eyes told you that must have done the trick.

She leaned forward, pressing her whole body against yours and pinning you to the mattress. Your feet went up over her shoulders, keeping you trapped in the position even as her hands moved from your legs to the mattress. What had previously been slow, shallow strokes turned into faster, brutal thrusts. She pulled the toy nearly completely out of you before slamming it all the way back in. Her hips met yours in a merciless rhythm that left you shaking.

“Fuck! Mama… Mama!” You screamed, trying to reach out and grab her, but unable to get your hands out from under your legs. “Mama… I love you. I love you mama.”

“I love you too, sweet girl,” she said, nearly grunting with the intensity of her movement.

There was a shift that happened sometimes, when things got particularly intense between the two of you. It was like the slipping of a mask, but not in a scary or malicious way. Just Wanda so brutally intoxicated with you that she lost control. Her eyes narrowed and her face hardened. Her breaths came more as grunts than light moans. Her grip on you tightened into something more possessive and domineering. It never failed to drive you crazy.

“Fuck,” she growled, leaning back and moving her hand to your throat. “I’m gonna breed you. I’m going to keep filling you up until you can’t do anything but lay here and wait for me to come back and fill you up again. I’m gonna keep you leaking with my cum until this sweet little belly is all nice and swollen. Would you like that, angel? Do you want mama to keep you nice and full?”

“Yes mama!” you cried. “Please… please mama. Mama I’m gonna cum for you. Please cum inside of me mama. Please cum in…” you were cut short by an orgasm tearing through your body, leaving you speechless and dumb.

Wanda did not let up, continuing to chase her own pleasure. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t get out anymore than incoherent babbles. Wanda grabbed the vibrator she had given you earlier from your hand, turning it on and holding it to your clit. You writhed underneath her, jerking and spasming off the mattress, but she held you firmly in place.

Neither of you could do anymore than whimper or squeak. The only sound in the room was her hips hitting yours and the low thrum of the vibrator.

She let go of your throat, leaning forward again so she could kiss your face. “You're so beautiful, angel. And you feel so good on mama’s cock.” She turned up the setting on the vibrator, burying herself inside of you as deep as she could go. She could feel the vibrations against her own clit now. “Oh angel, mama’s gonna cum inside of you. Mama’s gonna fill you up and give your body everything it wants.” She squeezed the strap as she came, filling you with a warm, thick liquid unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

Wanda slowly pulled out, and gently guided your legs down to a more natural and comfortable position.

You shuttered as you felt the liquid leak out of you and drip down the crack of your ass. You furrowed your brow in confusion. “Mama…” you whined. You were so exhausted you couldn’t do anything but turn your head to look at her.

“Yes, little love?” She said, leaning forward to gently wipe the stray hairs from your sweaty forehead.

“What was that?” You asked breathlessly. “Feels funny…”

“Mama just came inside of you, sweet girl,” she explained quietly, bending down to kiss your head.

“It’s so… warm,” you noted, rolling your head to the side. Your nose pinched uncomfortably as you felt the thick liquid dripping down onto the bed sheets.

Wanda reached her hand back down between your legs, collecting the cum on her fingers and pushing it back inside of you. You whined.

“Shshsh angel,” she cooed. “Mama’s just making sure you stay nice and full, sweetheart. You remember what we talked about, yes? That’s why you’ve been so needy for mama all afternoon. This is what your body wants.”

When she was satisfied, she discarded the strap and laid down behind you, putting her arms under yours and methodically rubbing your stomach. She imagined your stomach swelling with life you created together. What a beautiful display that would be, of your love for each other. She moved your hair aside so she could kiss the back of your neck and the spot up under your ears.

You laced your fingers in hers, resting them just below your navel. “Do you really have to go back to work, mama?” You couldn’t handle it if she left you in here alone, all sweaty and still leaking cum. Surely she would at least carry you to the bathroom, maybe run you a bath and get you cleaned up.

Wanda chuckled and kissed your shoulder blade. “I think Tasha can handle it on her own.” She pulled you closer, rubbing her cheek against your shoulder. She wasn’t exactly sure how she would explain this to her coworker in the morning, but she would be sure to start taking a day off around the same time every month.

—---------

“You want me to…” you asked nervously, but even the idea made your pupils dilate. You had never used that particular strap inside of her. She’d only ever used it on you. It was honestly still a mystery to you, how the thing worked.

Wanda bit her lip and nodded, pulling your hand from her pants. “I mean, only if you-”

“I do!” you interrupted.

She raised her brows and opened her mouth like she was getting ready to chastise you for interrupting, but when she saw the eager, innocent excitement in your eyes, she just sighed. “Okay angel. Let’s go up to your room.”

You practically jumped up off of the couch and raced upstairs, grabbing the strap and shedding your clothes before she could even make it up the stairs. She merely chuckled at your overeager behavior, casually stripping off her own clothes while you fiddled with the harness.

She sat down naked on the end of the bed, helping you secure it around your waist. She pulled at the straps you had already managed to get twisted and tangled, adjusting and tightening it to your body. “Is that too tight?”

You shook your head, waving your hips back and forth to make sure it was snug.

She led your hand to a bulge at the base of the toy. “Now when you’re ready, you’re gonna squeeze right here, okay?”

You nodded, feeling the unfamiliar shape with the pads of your fingers.

Wanda scooted backwards until her head hit the pillows. You followed, crawling on your knees until you were nestled comfortably between her legs.

You were always a little awkward, trying to get the toy in. Luckily Wanda was right there to help. She eased the tip in herself, biting her lip to contain a moan as she did so. “Okay now remember, just start nice and slow.”

You leaned over her, putting your hand against the mattress on either side of her. You stuck your tongue out slightly in concentration, trying to focus on finding a good movement. If you were being honest, you were never particularly good at this part either. But what you lacked in skill, you made up for in determination. You found a slow, and slightly awkward, but steady rhythm.

Wanda hummed delightedly, pulling you down against her. “Mmm… that’s it angel. Nice and slow. Give mama some time to adjust.”

As you continued your easy, slow ministrations, you found yourself being able to go deeper with each stroke. It was only a minute or two before you were all the way inside. If you weren’t actually trying to make her cum, you might just stay like that forever, deep inside of Wanda, feeling her body clench and pulse around you. It felt so natural. More natural to you than anything else in the world. Your bodies fit together like perfect puzzle pieces.

You took the opportunity to crane your neck downward and trace your tongue over her sensitive nipples. She gasped, squeezing her eyes closed and burying her hands in your hair. You sucked the hardened bud into your mouth and gently flicked it with the point of your tongue. Her body was taut like a bowstring, hardly moving under you aside from a few swallow gasps. You moved to the other side, gently circling the exposed one nipple with your fingertip while you did the same with your tongue on the other.

“Keep going, baby,” she panted, arching her chest up into you. She reached one of her hands down to play with her clit. “That feels so good. Mama is so sensitive for you. Mama’s body knows you’re her baby.”

You moaned at her words, your mouth and fingers doubling down. Her body shuttered and you felt her start to pulse around the strap. You felt a surge of warmth pool between her legs. You pulled your head up to look her in the eyes. “Did you just…”

She nodded and chuckled a little bit. “I told you I was sensitive.”

Your eyes went wide. You had never made her cum so fast. But a certain pride swelled up in your chest as you watched her body react to what you were doing. You gained a bit of confidence: enough to start rolling your hips in a steady motion against hers.

The smug chuckle immediately stopped as the strap started to scrap her sensitive walls. The toy was traced with vein-like bumps that scratched at that special spot inside of her. Her hands shot up and wrapped around your back, clawing gently at your shoulder blades and the length of your spine. “Ah!” she squeaked in pleasant surprise. You’d never quite taken initiative like this before. “Good girl. You're making mama feel so good. Keep going, just like that.”

She wrapped her legs around your waist, keeping your thrusts shallow and deep. “Oh god. I want to feel your cum inside of me, angel. You’re gonna make mama feel so full and happy. Tell me you want to cum inside me, sweet girl.”

“I wanna cum inside you mama. I wanna make you feel so full and… and happy. I’m gonna do such a good job for you mama. I promise,” you stammer. The sounds she was making were music to your ears. Her heels dug into your thighs in tandem with her nails on your back. She was everywhere, surrounding you in every way possible. You looked down between her legs, watching the strap slide in and out of her pussy. That was your cock inside of her.

Suddenly, as if it were some trick of your brain, you could feel it, warm and wet, drawing you in again and again. She wanted you to cum inside of her. You wanted to cum inside of her. You wrapped your arms around her back, pulling her slightly up off the mattress as you started to go faster. You buried your face into her neck, muffling your noises.

“Oh fuck,” Wanda panted, bury her hand in your hair. She cradled your head just over her shoulder. “Fuck… you would give me such beautiful babies.”

You whimpered and rutted into her so hard and fast she nearly hit her head on the headboard. She smiled breathlessly. Clearly she got you riled up.

“Did that make you happy? The idea of giving mama a baby?” She asked, turning her head so she was only inches away from your ear.

You whined and nodded, rutting into her again. This time she let out a deep, satisfied moan as she felt the tip of the toy kiss her cervix. “You want to put a baby inside of mama?”

You knew it wasn’t possible, of course. Wanda couldn’t have any more children, and even if she could you certainly couldn’t get her pregnant. Still, the idea tickled your brain in all the best ways. It would be a part of you inside of Wanda. You nodded eagerly, biting your lip. “Mhm.”

You wrapped yourself even tighter around her waist thrusting your hips into her with a new determination. “I wanna hear you say it baby…” she gasped. “Tell mama what you want.”

That was all she needed to say to get the dam to break. As soon as you open your mouth, the words flowed out of you in a flurry of desperation. “I want… I wanna fill you up mama. Please. Please, I need it. Please mama.” You were bucking into her like a virginal teenage boy, erratic and sloppy, like you could actually feel yourself inside of her. “You feel so good, mama.”

“I’m so full,” she breathed. She was so sensitive. You were hitting every spot inside of her while simultaneously laying on her aching chest. “Fuck, angel, you’re filling me up so good. Do you want to feel mama cum on your cock? Do you wanna make mama cum?”

“Yes. Please yes,” you begged, rolling your hips into hers. You sat up a little more, getting a better angle that allowed you to get even deeper inside of her. There was a surge of hunger that shot through you at the sight of her, absolutely beside herself with pleasure underneath you. You reduced her to this. You are the reason she feels so good. In a feeble attempt at dominance, you took her wrists in your hands and pinned them to the bed.

“Yes, baby. Hold mama down and make her take your babies,” she moaned.

You whimpered. You were far too small to even attempt to actually hold her down, but the sentiment still drove you both crazy. You buried the strap as deep as it would go, squeezing the base and releasing inside of her.

She arched up off the mattress, mouth fixed in a perfect “o” shape as she came around you.

You stayed like that for a second, buried inside her until she stopped shaking and collapsed back onto the bed. Slowly, you eased yourself out of her, watching your seed spill out of her. You hadn’t expected it, but there was a certain level of discontentment you felt, seeing your essence drip onto the mattress. You gathered what you could onto the tip of the toy and gently pushed it back in.

She groaned, exhausted and unable to move. You gently eased yourself down to lay on her chest, careful to avoid her tender breasts. You went limp on top of her, merging together in a boneless and sweaty pile of heavy breaths as you both tried to recover.

When she regained the ability to move, she scooted back to sit up against the pillows and moved to stroke your hair. The toy slowly fell out of her, and the warm remnants of your orgasm started to pool on the sheets below. After a long moment of lying lifelessly sprawled out on top of her, you heard her chuckle. You lifted your head to find her smiling down at you in an ecstatic giggle.

“What?” you asked, confused as if you had missed some joke.

“Nothing,” she replied. “I’m just happy.” She craned her neck so she could see your face. She was grinning ear to ear. I was a true smile: one she couldn’t even repress if she tried.

“About what?” you asked, confused. Sex, even good sex, had never left her with such a cheery disposition before.

“Just…” she paused a minute, trying to figure out how to best phrase what she wanted to say. “My body is aching for a baby and then I look down and… you’re here.”

You smiled at that, feeling that you had filled some deep biological need within her just the same as she filled one in you. You looked at her swelling breasts, and you nosed at them in a silent question. She guided your head towards her nipple in a silent answer. Your lips wrapped delicately around the hardened bud, naturally massaging it with your tongue. Much to her dismay, there still wasn’t any milk, but there was a different type of magic to knowing there would be, eventually.

The two of you were working together to create a beautiful thing. It was a sort of tangible proof that her body was responding to you, claiming you as her own. Her breasts were growing for you. Filling with milk they made for you. Because she was your mama, and you were her baby.

[neeeooon]

Hey can you do bllk boys reacting to an extremely introverted and shy reader confessing to them?

ofc!! thank you for the request, i hope you enjoy! 🤍

confessing to them ;

blue lock x extremely shy gn!reader

isagi yoichi

-> after school, instead of going home to study like you’re supposed to, you often find yourself sitting alone to watch the soccer players (isagi). he catches you watching sometimes and even tried talking to you once, but you ran off before he had the chance

-> finally, one winter, you’re walking home when you notice isagi kicking a ball around the frost-covered court. since it was the day before break, you pulled every ounce of courage you had to the surface and approached him

-> “oh? hi, y/n.” and you lost your train of though because he knew your name? “hi. what, uh, why are you out here in the cold?”

-> you spend the next hour kicking the ball around and talking together. it’s so surreal for you to feel comfortable around another person, and by the time your little game comes to an end, you find yourself saying, “you don’t have to say anything, but i have a crush on you…”

-> isagi isn’t exactly surprised, considering he’s seen you silently cheering him on at almost every practice, but he still blushes. “i can give you my number?” “yes! i mean, yes, please.”

michael kaiser

-> kaiser doesn’t usually have patience for people who waste his time, but he doesn’t see your anxious fidgeting and stammering as bothersome. he’ll gladly wait for you to put your thoughts together, his cheek in his hand

-> one day was different, because when you approached him with your fingers nervously knotted together, you weren’t smiling. “i need to talk to you… if that’s okay?”

-> he lets you pull him to a more secluded area, where you rub your hands together in an attempt to calm yourself down. kaiser can’t stop himself from grabbing your hands after a moment and holding them between his to catch your gaze. “take a breath. what is it you want to tell me?”

-> “i like you,” you blurted as your face immediately turned red. “i’m sorry! that wasn’t supposed to be so aggressive—“ “i like you too, y/n.” “…… me y/n?”

bachira meguru

-> bachira was the closest person to a friend you ever had

-> you really struggled to talk to people, so when a boy with a loud laugh and pretty smile asked you to partner up with him for a project, you were enamored

-> it was white day, and after years of following bachira around, you finally worked up the nerve to confess to him. you were too shy to say the words, so you spent the entire night before writing your feelings down in a letter and stuffing it in a package of presents

-> before class, you snuck the present into bachira’s desk. it wasn’t until the final bell rang that you realized you forgot to sign your name

-> panicked, you rushed to retrieve the gift, only to run into a grinning bachira. “y/n! i got your gift. so you really like me, huh?” you weren’t expecting to face him and immediately wanted to crawl into your jumper and die

-> “i, um…” “i got this for you!” and he hands you his own white day gift, which is a drawing of the two of you holding hands. “you’re cute when you blush. we should go on a date!”

itoshi sae

-> you were part of an exchange program for school and got to visit spain for an entire month. since your school was next to the prestigious soccer academy (which was also full of foreigners), your class got to watch them practice

-> sae always seemed so bored and disinterested to the point where you never even saw him smile. still, there something about him that made you want to talk to him, and that scared you since you weren’t sure how

-> desperate, you turned to the internet. how to tell a guy who doesn’t know you exist that you like him? surprisingly, there were quite a bit of responses from people in similar situations. you decided to go with the top-rated comment: make him food

-> that’s how you ended up in the practice arena at 4 am. you weren’t expecting anyone to be there that early. you were wrong to assume sae practiced like a normal person

-> “what are you doing in here?” “oh! sae! i, um… here.” and you practically throw the cookies you baked at him before he can react. you wrote a note, and he’s able to read it and catch up to you before you’re able to run away.

-> “no one’s ever…” he pauses, and your surprised to see that he’s blushing. that he’s just as shy as you. “have you eaten breakfast yet? i know a place nearby if you’re hungry..?” “that’d be nice..!” “cool.” “cool :)”

mikage reo

-> you got a summer internship at mikage corp, where you occasionally ran into the future heir, reo

-> you didn’t mean to develop a crush on him, but he was the only one who ever acknowledged you. maybe it’s because you were one of the only other young people, but he’d always smile and wave when he passed you

-> little do you know that reo finds you utterly adorable. the way you awkwardly return his smile or wave, or how you stammer over your words when he greets you by name. he had a whole plan to ask you out, but to his surprise, you beat him to it

-> you were wringing your hands out anxiously as you waited for reo by one of the meeting rooms. when you saw him you paled, but it was too late to turn back. “y/n, hey! are you free late—“ “ireallylikeyouandthinkweshouldgetcoffeesometimeifyourefree—wait, what?”

barou shouei

-> you didn’t understand why more students weren’t fascinated by barou, the self-proclaimed “king”

-> you were always too shy to say anything when you passed each other, but you couldn’t stop yourself from going to his games to watch him play. you didn’t think he noticed

-> you missed two days of school and one of barou’s games when you got sick, and when you returned, he was waiting for you before practice. “i didn’t see you at the game.”

-> “whaaa, me?” you manage, and he nods. “yes, you. the one who always comes to my games. where were you?” “sick.” “sick?” “yeah.. you know who i am?” “well, not your name, but i’m not an idiot. why do you come, anyway?”

-> you think, screw it! since you don’t know when you’ll get the chance again. shuffling on your feet and unable to meet his eyes, you say, “i like you… i mean, watching you! play soccer! not in a creepy way, just that you’re really good, and—“ “i’m barou.” “i know. i mean i’m y/n!”

[calypsocolada]

how they are when they’re in love… ft. rengoku, tengen, sanemi, giyu, & haganezuka

an: welllllll hellloooo. i apologize for the wait! thanks for the request :) this was so fun to write :) pls enjoy!

request: "hi, i love your writing so much, your characterization is seriously on point <3 can i request kny x hashira reader about how they’d be like when they’d have romantic feelings for the reader? tysm if you choose to do this but it’s understandable if not <3"

cw: fem reader

wc: 6.7k

It’s the little things. Rengoku isn’t stubborn. He doesn’t hide things and he’s not ashamed. He realizes quite early on that there is something about you. Something that draws his eye. You’re not someone flashy or boisterous. You’re just someone that makes his mind wander. He likes your smile, he’s told you so. He likes when you blush, something so rare because you are so seemingly serious to most. He likes your sword style and the way you fight. He likes your voice and how if he catches you late at night your voice has a softer edge to it because you’re tired. He likes making you laugh and buying you food. He likes that you eat just about as much as him and doesn't seem to mind his loud voice. So sure, all of those things could easily tell him that he’s in love with you but… but it was just one single thing that solidified it all in his mind. 

Rengoku had a cold father. He had a warm mother and a kind little brother. He liked his family but part of him was… hesitant to start his own. His father never warmed to him. No matter what he did. He didn’t know if that was something he’d turn into. And he really didn’t want to take a chance. But… then he met you. And suddenly taking that chance seemed inevitable. Being with you seemed to weigh on his mind night and night again. He used to love winding down for the night until he met you, a cold demon slayer. Now he laid awake and thought of you. His father was cold and sometimes… you reminded him of him. Your coldness didn’t seem malicious but… it was still there. Still a gentle reminder that he needed more time to know you. His only glaring spiraling thought being; would you always be cold or would you warm to him?

“Lost in thought?” You interrupted his spiraling. He swallowed and smiled softly over at you. 

“A bit.” He answered cheerfully but his smile faltered as you stared at him intently. That stare felt as though you could see straight into his soul, cutting through all the barriers and barricades he’s built. 

“You’re not eating. That’s troubling.” You pointed out. 

“I’m fine.” He lied with a smile, reaching for his chopsticks. Your eyes tracked his hands movement and he found himself blushing at how closely you were observing him. 

“Is it the mission?” You asked, picking up and taking a sip of your warm green tea. Rengoku shook his head. 

“I didn’t mean to worry you. Really I’m fine.”

“So it’s not the mission.” You concluded, crossing your arms over your chest in thought. He stared at you for a moment and you stared back. “Tell me what it is.” You said and although he’s heard you demand things of others before this was no demand. It was a gentle question with a soft tone. 

There was a table between you two, a crowded restaurant with talking patrons but suddenly the room just felt empty, you being the only person his eyes wanted to see. He couldn’t just up and say he was thinking about you because it just wouldn’t come out right. He parted his lips to speak but nothing substantial crossed his mind. You observed all of it. 

“Never mind. Tell me when you’re ready.” You said just as softly, and when he met your eyes there was no ounce of coldness in them. He felt warm all over. Nothing he’d ever felt before. He couldn’t believe he had ever for a single moment thought you were anything like his father. You chose your words wisely, no you didn’t smile much but that made your smiles that much more meaningful when he had to work for them.

”I’m in love with you.” Rengoku said without a second thought. Your hand paused, eyes stuck on the plate in front of you. 

“Hm?” You asked, as though you hadn’t heard him loud and clear. Slowly your eyes rose to meet him. Those five words were written all over his face, his soft gaze, the slight smile on his lips. You blushed almost immediately.

”I’m in love with you.” Rengoku affirmed, no shyness. Your lips parted in silent surprise.

”Oh.” You said, unable to properly digest his words at this very moment. “You are?”

”I am.” He nodded his head, leaning back in his chair. You purse your lips, embarrassed. Rengoku didn’t push the subject, he paid for the meal and when you both stood he wrapped a shawl around you and you followed him out the door into the stinging winter morning. 

You trailed behind him a few steps, walking in the indents of the snow he left. Rengoku stood out in the snow, like a sore thumb with his bright hair and fire eyes. He stood out everywhere. You reached out, barely grabbing the back of his cloak. He paused, barely turning, eyes holding that same soft gaze. There were a lot of things you weren’t sure of. Your place in the demon slayer corp for one, you standing with your peers, how this next mission was going to go. But there was one thing you were clear on.

“I love you too.” You said softly, snow falling around you two. Rengoku turned more, snow crunching underfoot. You could barely meet his eyes, blushing profusely, hoping he’d think it was from the cold. He reached for you, hand sliding around your hip, barely tugging you a step closer. He kissed you then, leaning into your space and meeting your lips with a gentle press of his own. He pulled back long enough to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Come on, let's get you somewhere warm.”

~

Tengen was quick to fall for you. He is not embarrassed or abashed by what he feels for you. He loves loudly. It was like the cliff was in sight and then suddenly he was toppling over it with reckless abandon. It's not like you paid him any extra attention. He was a lot and you were shy, you tried your hardest to dodge him if you were being honest. But he found you. He always found you. And more importantly he saw you. Saw through the shy, curt expressions you wore. 

This time he found you at the butterfly mansion. He was recuperating from a recent mission when you were brought in, bloody and bruised. He could barely walk but he came to your bedside the first two nights. Or so you were told, you had been out for those two days. When you woke up the first day one of the girls changing your bandages told you about him staying with you and being forced away from your side. 

The next morning you woke up and Tengen was dead asleep in the chair next to your bed. The sight was… something. He was a Hashira and you were a slayer. He was always put together when you’d see him but… he was disheveled, his white hair a mess from sleep, his face serene. It was… it took your breath away. Something about his vulnerability and sudden softness made your heart quicken in your chest. 

You pushed up in your bed, it groaned gently under your weight and you paused as Tengen stirred. He moved just a bit before settling right back down. You pushed out of the bed after a moment. You’d overstayed your welcome at the mansion, you felt fine enough to travel and there was something… intimate about Tengen wasting so much time by your side when he should be focused on himself. 

Gathering your things up you moved quietly through the room, you slung your bag over your shoulder and reached for the door. 

“Leaving so soon?” His voice was smooth and rich from sleep. Your hand paused. Hoping in vain that you had heard things but then you heard him pushing up in the chair he was slouched in. You cleared your throat. 

“I was assigned a new mission.”

“I’ll accompany you.” He says and you spin around, shaking your head.

“No need. You’re recovering.”

“And so are you.” He says, pushing to his feet and stretching like a giant animal. You purse your lips as he yawns.

“I’m fine. You’re a hashira, you shouldn’t waste time on low level missions.” You say as Tengen raises a brow. 

“Low level?” He echoes, looking slightly amused. You nodded your head doubling down on your statement. He smiled at you, laughing slightly. He looked… entirely too handsome like this. You looked away, blushing. “Regardless of mission difficulty I’d still like to accompany you.” You swallowed, the room was small. Tengen’s hair was down, mussed a bit from sleep. Cheek still a bit red where he had fallen asleep leaning against his hand. You could barely look at him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I’m sure you have more pressing things to do.” You offered and Tengen just brushed away your attempt with a wave of his hand. He walked towards the door where you stood and reached, brushing past you to pull open the door. He invaded your space, large and not entirely imposing. You felt startlingly comfortable this close to him yet at the same time your heart was in your mouth impeding your speech.

“Give me ten minutes to clean up. Don’t leave without me, little slayer.” He smirked, brushing past you to disappear down the hallway. 

“Wait,” You called after him and he paused. You stood awkwardly halfway in the hallway and halfway in your room, the cold air of the hallway brushing against your flushed skin. He cocked his head at you. You bit your lip, leaning against the door jamb before sighing. 

“I don’t… have a mission. I was just… trying to slip out.” You explained feeling guilty and a bit silly. Tengen didn’t look surprised, rather he just looked amused. He nodded his head.

“Is that so?” He asked, slowly walking towards you in the dim light of the hallway. You watched him approach, heat churning through you. 

“Mister Uzui-”

“Oh, that’s nice.” He smirks at your attempt at professionalism.

“I’m sorry for lying.” You blushed as Tengen actually laughed.

“I forgive you.” Tengen drawled as he approached you. You watched with bated breath as he reached and tucked your hair back out of your face. 

“Mister-”

“You can call me Tengen.” He cut in softly, his hand lingering on your cheek.

“Tengen…” You cooed and that was the moment. Like a twig snapping in the forest. Quick and precise. There is not a single other person in this world he’d rather hear his name spoken by. His eyes dropped to your mouth. Your lips moved but he hadn’t heard a word you said. 

“I’m sorry,” He murmured. “I can’t focus.” 

“Hm?”

“I’m going to kiss you.” He said sort of like a warning. You blushed to your bone and couldn’t find it in yourself to pretend you hadn’t been wanting that. You nodded your head and parted your lips to answer but Tengen ducked his head, lips cutting off your barely formed sentence.

~

Sanemi’s love is consuming, it's possessive. He watched you from afar, eyes drinking in your every little movement. He watched you dive forwards, practice sword in hand as you evaded a clever strike from your opponent. You launched, foot forwards as you sent the boy sprawling backwards on the ground, dust kicking up around him. Sanemi set up, he couldn’t hide the smirk that stretched across his lips as you swung your sword forwards and pointed it at the boy. 

Ruthlessness. That's something Sanemi didn’t see much. Your swordplay was exact and left no room for imagination. He could see you becoming a Hashira in no time. 

The boy raised his hands in mock surrender and you reached a free hand out, pulling him to his feet. Sanemi’s eyes narrowed. The boy said something and the smile and laugh that sprung from you had Sanemi’s stomach in knots. He clapped his hands together in an instant. 

“Training’s done. Leave my sight.” He called out to the group of you. “Except you. You stay.” He pointed to you. The smile died on your face as your sparring partner patted your shoulder as he walked by, good luck he mouthed before jogging to catch up with the other slayers. You swallowed dryly as you heard Sanemi approach you. You steeled your expression and turned. 

“Do you think at the end of a fight with a demon you can extend your hand to them and yank them to their feet?” Sanemi asked as you furrowed your brows. 

“Uh- um… no…” you answered confusedly. Sanemi stared hard at you for a moment. 

“Um no? You sounded unsure.”

“No.” You answered, more sure this time. 

“The point of sparring and winning isn’t to give up when your opponent raises their hands, it’s to have them tap out in submission.” Sanemi chided as you nodded your head. He didn’t like the playing around after the match it seemed. 

“I understand.” 

“So what was so funny?” Sanemi asked as you blinked slowly. 

“Hm?”

“What was so funny? After your spat. What could that idiot possibly say to make you laugh?” You stared at him for a long… long moment. Not only could you not remember what your partner had said but also… Why did Sanemi seem to care so much? You shifted slightly, twirling your practice sword in the dirt. 

“I’ll be better next time.” You said, hoping that would appease this strange attitude Sanemi was sporting. Sanemi looked you over for a minute. 

“Has anyone asked you to be their tsuguko?”

“Yes, Mr. Shinazugawa.” You nodded your head and Sanemi moved a step closer. 

“Ah. Is that so?” He asks, reaching up to run a hand through his unruly white hair. 

“Just a few offers.”

“Who offered?”

“Um… Ms. Kanroji, Mr. Tengen, Mr. Rengoku, and Mr. Tomioka.” You name off, with each name Sanemi’s face gets a bit redder. You clear your throat. “T-that’s all.”

“Be my Tsuguko.” He says, his eyes connect with yours. You swallow. Out of all the Hashira… Sanemi was the only one you were wanting to train under. It was purely out of admiration and definitely not for anything… else. 

“Is— is that a serious offer?” You asked, eyes lighting up. Sanemi nodded his head and you couldn’t help the smile that took over your whole face. “I accept.” You said graciously. Sanemi turned away. 

“Good. We start in the morning.” He said over his shoulder. You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you. 

“Yes, Mr. Shinazugawa.”

“Sanemi.” He said and your lips parted, brows furrowing softly. 

“Hm?”

“You don’t have to be so formal, we’re the same age.” He says before walking off. You watched him go, smile stuck to your lips. 

Two months passed and Sanemi was a ruthless teacher. He ran you ragged everyday, but you could feel yourself improving. You could feel the power in your swing’s strengthening. You knew you made a good choice training under him. You kept your rampant feelings at bay in favor of professionalism but… it was hard. You felt guilty for having these feelings and so you decided to tell Sanemi you were going to become someone else’s tsuguko. 

On Sanemi’s end there was something stirring. A sort of thorn in his side. He was… incredibly… stupidly… in love with you. He’d thought he’d just been fascinated with you at first and yeah… he is fascinated with you. But it’s much more than fascination at this point. Spending day and night, trading you up he could see why the other slayers would gather around you like a flock. He could see the appeal in telling stupid jokes just to see a smile. Ever since he’d asked you to be his tsuguko and you smiled at him he’d been chasing that high ever fucking since. It was addicting. Your smile, your laugh, your voice and smell and the way you fought it was all being captured and cataloged in his mind. 

Even now as he swung his sword to meet yours his eyes swept over your face, full of concentration, his heart swayed unevenly in his chest. He stepped back. 

“That’s good enough for tonight, good defense.” He commented as you breathed heavily. 

“Thank you.” You said almost breathless, walking over to place your practice sword with the others. 

“Wait,” Sanemi called after you. You passed, turning. 

“Yes?” You asked. Sanemi looked at you, he turned, gathering his thoughts. 

“You’ve… improved incredibly.” He says, scratching the back of his head. He wasn’t looking at you as he said it and for some reason you needed him to. You walked a bit closer, stepping in his eyeline. 

“You’re a good teacher.”

“You’re a quick learner.”

“I.. don’t know about that.” You laughed slightly. He stepped closer, he never licked when you talked down about yourself and he wasn’t going to change that about himself now. 

“You are. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I didn’t…” you cleared your throat. “I know that. Would you… give me some more truths?”

“Hm?” Sanemi hummed and met your eyes. 

“Mr. Shina- er… Sanemi…” you steeled yourself. “At the… risk of making things awkward… I can’t really keep things… at bay much longer.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m… in love with you. It’s… affecting my ability to be… ya know… professional.” You stumbled. Sanemi watched you, you watched his lips barely part in surprise and decided to prattle on. “You are under no obligation to say anything to me. I already spoke with Ms. Kanroji and she said she’ll take me off your hands-“

“Off my hands?” Sanemi echoed, taking a step closer to you. 

“She’ll take me in as he tsuguko so you don’t have to deal with me and my… feelings.” You stumbled, red faced and embarrassed. You couldn't see his eyes anymore. 

“You… you think I’d just kick you to the curb?” Sanemi asks as your eyes snap up to him. 

“Well, I-“

“I don’t want anyone to take you off my hands. I want to keep you.” Sanemi declared. You were speechless. Sanemi reached for your hand. His hand was rough and scared but he held yours with gentleness. He brought it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your knuckles. You watched this whole scene unfold… totally enraptured by this side of Sanemi. “Stay. I couldn’t stand to lose you.”

“Sanemi…”

“I love you. Stay.”

~

Giyu’s love is peaceful, it’s quiet, it’s soft blushes and special moments. You hated him. You had to hate him. You had to. Because anything else would be unacceptable. It would be a complete betrayal to yourself. To the you that first met the unpleasant Mr. Tomioka. The you with wide unburdened eyes. The you that ran deliveries for your family, in your small town. Completely unaware of the dangers and… complete unfairness of the world.

Mr. Tomioka came to your town. He was short with you, he didn’t talk much and had these… soulless eyes. The whole town talked about him. Apparently he was something called a Hashira. That’s what your aunt told you, apparently she’d gotten a few more words out of him then most. He was in town to investigate a few of the disappearances. You didn’t see much of the need for him here considering the three ladies that disappeared left notes. A lady at the local cafe you were delivering to had told you the girls had each run off with a guy they each met a town over. You were quick to believe because one of the girls had drunkenly told you two nights before her disappearance that she had met someone. Called him dark and handsome. She prattled on for a bit about him and seemed excited to see him again. 

“You spoke with her?” Mr. Tomioka asked you. He’d asked to have a few words with you about the girls after a day or so of him in town. You were… less inclined to speak with him because he had rubbed you the wrong way when he first arrived. Though this was no time for pride. 

“Yes, she was at the local bar. She was drunk and talked about a man she met.”

“When was this?” He asked, those soulless eyes on you as you fiddled with your hands. 

“Two days before she left.”

“Before she left? You don’t think she disappeared?”

“I don’t… I don’t know. I guess I think she’s just with that guy.” You explained. Mr. Tomioka squinted his eyes at you, his face unchanging. 

“Her parents are very worried about her. They say she’d never up and leave.” He explains as you purse your lips. You were going to argue with that. Her parents knew her better than anyone. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

“Mhm… well… she said the man she was going to meet lived in a town over.”

“All of the ladies missing have told their friends and families the same thing. They’re meeting a guy a town over. Only they’re not seen again.” Mr. Tomioka explains. You sit up slightly. 

“Really?”

“Don’t gossip about this. This stays between us. I mean it.”

“I wouldn’t.” You declared sharply, slightly offended he would insinuate that you’d run your mouth about this. You were a listener. Not a talker, things said to you always remained a secret. 

“Everyone else in this town foams at the mouth to spread things across town.”

“It’s a small town, Mr. Tomioka. People care for each other.” You grumbled, crossing your arms. “They like to be in the know so they can help when needed.”

“They’re nosy.” He argues. Your eyes sharpen, lips pouting slightly. 

“They’re good people.” You pushed up from your seat. “Now if that’s all, Mr. Tomioka, I have work to get back to.”

“That’s not all.” He responded coldly. You stared at him, you didn’t sit back down. “There’s a link between the girls and I have a feeling you’ll be the next to disappear.”

“What?” You croaked. Mr. Tomioka didn’t convey any special feelings, he just reached for his tea and took a careful sip. He kept you waiting. 

“The three women missing share various traits. Age, eye color, hair color, and body type. I believe a demon has an appetite for a specific type of woman.” Mr. Tomioka explained. You stared at him. You stared some more. You parted your lips to speak and then shut them. Did he just say… demon? 

“I… believe I misunderstood. Do you mean demon as in evil?”

“I mean demon as in demon. I believe the creature is hunting pretty women like you and…” you zoned out. Demon? A creature? You couldn’t focus. You slowly sunk back into your chair. After a moment Mr. Tomioka noticed you not taking in his words. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is all a bit much for you.”

“Yes.” You nodded numbly. 

“Miss, afford me your time. I believe you are in danger. Let me stick near you to keep you safe. I believe the demon will try something soon and I want to be there to intercept it.” He asks, leaning forwards. 

“Whatever.” You waved him off. “I believe you are delusional but… I see no harm in humoring you at least till you figure out what happened to those girls.”

And stuck around Mr. Tomioka did. He walked you to and from work, assisted on your deliveries. As you slept he patrolled your cabin and watched out for your family. He ate with you at dinner and breakfast and lunch for at least a month and a half. Mr. Tomioka didn’t talk much and you tried getting anything out of him but he was all serious like. It was hard to get past that. 

You had started to believe he was a mad man when suddenly you felt a cold hand around your wrist while you were walking to work. When you turned you saw the demon and then a flash of light as Mr. Tomioka’s sword arched and sliced the demon’s wrist into two. You stumbled back as Mr. Tomioka made quick work of the demon. His slice was clean and true and you watched, wide eyed and unblinking as the demon dusted to nothing. You could even muster a word, so utterly terrified and exhausted and completely at a loss. Mr. Tomioka sheathed his sword.

He was right. He was right about the creature about it coming for you. You fell to your knees. Mr. Tomioka was at your side in the blink of an eye. 

“You hurt? I was quick to kill it, I thought.”

“Those girls?”

“Are resting easy now.” He says. Tears fill your eyes. You nod your head and look at the floor. You outlived those girls purely because of Mr. Tomioka. And you had been utterly and completely cold to him the moment he set foot in the town. Mr. Tomioka placed a careful hand on your back. “Can you stand?”

“Yes.” You answered shakily. Mr. Tomioka offered you a hand and you took it. His… his eyes didn’t look so soulless now. He held your cold hand in his warm hand. He didn’t let go. “Mr. Tomioka… Thank you. You… saved my life.” 

“I’m glad you’re safe.” He answers you, his eyes connecting with yours. Your stomach dropped. A moment was shared. One where… you couldn’t believe for a moment you had despised this man.

The next morning you walked Mr. Tomioka to the train station. It was a quiet morning, dew stuck to the grass blades, a gentle fog rolled through the town. The train station was quiet, you two were the only ones there, even the train hadn’t arrived. 

Giyu looked over at you. The way your dress swayed, the way you stayed directly beside him as you walked. Giyu… felt trouble the moment he arrived in this town and it wasn’t the demon lurking in the shadows. It was you. He felt it the moment he walked into your place of work and you smiled so brightly he had to look away. Talked so sweetly that he couldn't form a coherent thought. His words were clumsy and came out sharper than intended because he’d never been this nervous in front of a woman before. He’d saved you and still couldn’t manage to put to words the way you made him feel. He knew you’d come around on him. Knew he’d rubbed you the wrong way at first. But the warmth in your smile as you thanked him last night kept him from sleeping. And now he was leaving, a new mission in sight and three words dying to spring free from his lips. 

“Quiet morning, it seems not many are leaving at this hour.” You observed as you stepped onto the train platform, Mr. Tomioka a step behind you. 

“It’s nice.” He commented and you turned, smiling. 

“It is.” The distant chugging of the train told you both that this little kinship you two had found with each other was coming to an end. “Oh! Mr. Tomioka… I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for us and for… saving me but I wanted to give you this as thanks.” Your hands brushed as you handed him over some homemade food for his train ride. He nodded in thanks as the train pulled into the station. He lingered for a moment, he looked down at the food. You watched him, glancing towards the train, passengers filtering off. “Mr. Tomioka? You’ll miss your train.”

“May I visit again?”

“Hm?” You responded almost immediately. 

“May I… come and visit… again?” 

The question lingered in the air for a moment. You blinked, lips parting. 

“Of course. My family loves you. In fact the whole town has warmed to you. I’m sure they’d love to have you back again, no demon lingering this time.”

“And… What about you?”

“Me?” You echoed. He finally met your eyes. Your stomach dropped. 

“Have you… warmed to me?”

“Ah.” You cleared your throat. You wouldn’t lie. Not now… it seemed important in this moment not to mince words. “Very much so, Mr. Tomioka.” There was a small stretch of silence between you two. He clearly had felt the effect of your words. “Mr. Tomioka?” 

“Please… please call me Giyu.” 

“Giyu…” you tried his name out… you liked it. “If it wasn’t incredibly selfish of me to ask, I'd ask you to stay.”

“If it wasn’t incredibly selfish of me I would.” He returns. 

“So we’re… in agreement.” You say and watch the ever stoic Giyu Tomioka smile. It was a small, shy sort of smile but it was a smile nonetheless. You’d catalogue it. The train horn honked, signifying it was about to take off. Giyu stepped close, his hand gently hovering by your cheek. 

“May I? As a goodbye?” He asks. He didn’t even need to. You nodded your head and he leaned into your space and pressed his lips to yours. Softly. His thumb caressed your cheek and he deepened the kiss, his free hand wrapping around your hip. He pulled back, hands still on your hip and cheek. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. 

“I’ll come back.” He promised and with that… he was gone.

~

Haganezuka’s love is confusing, confounding, a bit frightening… to everyone else that is. 

Oh boy. You had… broken your first sword. The only piece you were about to recover laid pathetically in your hands. You shook with tears. It was just a sword. Why were you so worked up?

“That’s tough.” Mitsuri’s hand patted your back. “But a right of passage as a demon slayer.” 

“You’ve done this?” 

“Many times. Before I was a Hashira I broke at least ten of my swords.” She explains as you grip the piece in your hand. Turning to look at her. She’s smiling but then she cringes. “You’re going to have to request a new sword.” 

“A new one?” You echo as she nods her head. 

“We can travel to the swordsmith village together.” She smiles. “Do you remember the smith who made your sword?”

“Um. I believe it was Mr. Haganezuka.” You said and that smile dropped again. 

“Mr. Haganezuka?” She echos. You nod your head. “Haganezuka? With the sunflower patterned haori? The wind chimes on his woven hat?”

“Yes, Ms. Kanroji.” You say, interest and eyebrows piqued. She blows out, running a stressed hand through her hair. 

“You’re absolutely sure? You spoke with him before? You know his… nature?”

“His nature? I only saw him in passing. Mr.Urokodaki spoke with him.” You sigh slightly. “Is something the matter?”

“Yes. This… I was hoping it’d be a relaxing trip for you after our mission. But… well…” She pats your head. “Get packed, we’ll leave for the village in the morning.” 

“Um, alright.” You said cautiously. You watch Mitsuri pout slightly as she pushes to her feet and trudges back towards her room. 

The trek to the village took about three days. When you arrived you were surprised to see so many swordsmiths bustling around. Mitsuri had explained to you that Mr. Haganezuka was a character. She said he was intense and to disregard his actions. To say the least she had you nervous as you trekked up the path to his house. Mitsuri had taken off to the hot springs the moment you two stepped into the village and stated for you to meet her. That after talking to Mr. Haganezuka you were going to need some time to relax.

You sucked in a breath, hand reaching up as you rapped your knuckles against his workshop. It was deathly silent since he lived a bit sways from the village. You could hear the distant bustling but not much else. The door creaked open and the first thing you saw was the mask. You sucked in a breath, eyes wide. 

“Yes?” His voice was muffled behind the mask. You stared, lips parted. You had fought demons but this scene had your heart on edge. His workshop was dark, he towered over you, looking down at you through the crack in the door. 

“M-Mr. Haganezuka?” You asked, voice shaky. He nodded. “I’m… a d-demon slayer. You… made me a sword.” You explained. He didn’t answer, just stared down at you. You wished you could see his expression, you read people well and behind a mask he was a mystery to you. “I was Urokodaki’s student.” You tried again. Again he just started. You instinctively stepped back and reached for your bag. You pulled out your broken sword and presented it to him. His head moved as he looked at the broken sword then moved again as he met your eyes. 

“Ah. I remember you.” Was all he said as you swallowed dryly. 

“I— I appreciated the s-word you made me. It… it was a great help. Unfortunately… I— b-broke it. I’m… still t-training and I was careless and uhm— and foolish.” You explained, you were unable to meet his eyes anymore. Your eyes glued to the broken sword in your hands. “I am terribly… terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Not an inconvenience.” He said, and pulled the door open slightly. His workshop wasn’t as dark as you thought as you caught a glimpse of a fire churning in the hearth. You parted your lips, surprised by his words. “You’re alive. The sword fulfilled its purpose.” At that you finally raised your eyes just as he reached out, hand brushing yours as he grabbed the shattered remains. “Come back in three days. I’ll give you a new sword.”

“Really?” You asked softly. Haganezuka nods his head. “Well I appreciate-” The door clicks as he shuts it right in your face. Oh. 

Three days later you visit again. This time with Mitsuri in tow. She would not believe your story of how your first interaction with Mr. Haganezuka went. She claimed he put her in a headlock the first time she broke her sword. She said he chased her till sunrise another time. Mr. Haganezuka seemed… apathetic to you. 

You knocked on the door. No answer. You glanced at Mitsuri and she reached out and knocked. Nothing. 

“Mr. Haganezuka?” You called through the door. You raised your hand again and this time the door cracked open. You jumped, startled as the man pulled open the door. You're not sure how you could tell because of the mask but something was wrong with Mr. Haganezuka. He leaned against the door heavily. 

“Come in. I’ll fetch your sword.” He says as Mitsuri shoots you a confused look. You follow him as he walks laboriously through his workshop. 

“Mr. Haganezuka?” You ask, he tilts his head slightly. “Are you alright?”

“Your sword took me night and day to forge.” He says as he walks you into the main room, Mitsuri close behind  

“Day and night?” You echo. “Did you sleep? Eat?” You ask as Mitsuri warningly grabs your arm. 

“Here it is.” Mr. Haganezuka presents the sword to you. Your eyes widen. It was… different from your last sword. The hilt was a beautiful shade of maroon with intricate carvings. 

“Wow… this is… magnificent.” You were at a loss for words to describe it. Mitsuri sucked in a breath behind you, eyes bulging at the sight. 

“It will suit you well.” He says, leaning on his work table. 

“How much do I owe you, sir?”

“No.”

“N-no?” You echo. He just shakes his head. 

“Make sure to treat it well.” Mitsuri says. 

“I rather hope it treats her well.” He says, sliding into the seat. 

“Mr. Haganezuka, as a thanks please allow me to treat you to something to eat.” You step closer to him. Mitsuri grabs your arm but you don’t let her deter you. 

“Mr. Haganezuka is a busy man-“

“Alright.” He says to your surprise. 

You whipped him up something and Mitsuri took her leave. You laid the food out for him and grabbed your sword. 

“I’ll be taking my leave now.”

“You may stay. If you like.” 

“I figured you wouldn’t want company… that you’d want privacy-“ he reached up and undid the tie to his mask, letting it drop in his hands. You blushed. It was an instant reaction, one you couldn’t hide. He was… handsome. Very handsome. With dark hair and dark eyes. But also he looked exhausted, dark circles beneath his eyes. 

“I don’t mind your company, slayer.” He says and you swallow dryly. 

“I’ll stay then.” You say and sit across from him, he pushes some of the food your way. “You eat. You need it more.” You say but he doesn’t pull the plate back. You sigh, and grab some food.

You spent a month in the village, recuperating from your prior mission, training with Mitsuri and occasionally seeking out Mr. Haganezuka. He was gentle, and kind. Mitsuri was unsettled when she saw how he treated you. Maybe unsettled isn’t the right word… more intrigued. She said she had never seen him act that way with anyone. Not even Rengoku. And everyone liked Rengoku. But you liked Mr. Haganezuka. He was an incredibly hard worker, almost working himself to the bone. He was diligent, he was… handsome. You’d never seen a man like him before.

On your last night you packed up your things. Mitsuri had headed out earlier that morning and you were to meet her later in the week. You tossed your bag over your shoulder and pulled open your door. You traced the same path back to Mr. Haganzuka’s and as you arrived Mr. Haganezuka was already pulling open the door. 

“I cooked.”

“You did?” You ask, a smile forming on your lips. He hadn’t worn his mask since the first time you two met. He nodded his head and you followed him inside, setting your bags by the door. “I just wanted to stop by to say goodbye but I guess I can eat before going.” He stops, turning slightly, eyes intense.

“Hm? You’re leaving?”

“Yes, sir.” You nod your head. “Ms. Kanroji and I have a new mission a few towns over.”

“Ah.” He says, he turns away, still paused. You watch him from behind, blinking.

“Mr. Haganezuka?”

“Food’s getting cold, come on.” He says, walking towards the kitchen. You follow excitedly. The dinner was quiet, a little too quiet for your liking. You cleared your throat, glancing at the time.

“Well. Mr. Haganezuka-”

“Hotaru.” He says, not looking up from his plate. “Please call me Hotaru.”

“Hotaru… I should be taking my leave. Thank you kindly for dinner and… and your company this month. As well as my sword.” You name off, grateful, a soft smile on your face. Hotaru meets your eyes for a second before looking away quickly. 

“You’re… very welcome.” 

He walks you to the door as you bend to grab your bags. 

“Must you leave so late?”

“I have a train to catch.” You say with a smile.

“Do you have… train fare?” He asks as you tilt your head.

“Hm?” You ask as Hotaru grabs some money, handing it to you. “Oh… Oh I can't accept this-”

“And it’s cold out. Don’t you have a scarf?” He asks, bustling out of your view again and reappearing, wrapping a scarf around your neck gently. You blush when his hands inadvertently brush your cheeks and again when he untucks your hair from beneath the scarf.

“Hotaru?”

“Ah! Let me pack you some food for the train and-- and some breakfast-” You catch his arm as he turns. He pauses, eyes darting to your hand. 

“I’ll come and visit.” You say. He meets your eyes slowly.

“Please do.” He says softly. There’s a quiet, almost tension filled moment as his hand slides over yours, his thumb gently stroking the top of your hand before pulling it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Break your sword as many times as you like.”

[honourablejester]

Okay. Last response, because I agree this is getting long, and I can see we’re going to have to agree to disagree.

Primary thing:

I only really do think that religion shall only be portrayed as force of evil.

That is censorship. That is the exact same logic as the Hays Code. The thing you view as immoral shall not be portrayed as anything but immoral. That’s the Hays Code. That is literally censorship. Which aside from being always dangerous, also doesn’t work. I do understand, particularly right now, when a fundamentalist Christian nation piloted by a psychotic idiot and his nazi friends might be threatening to bomb the world, that the extremes of religion are be terrifying, but censorship doesn’t stop that. It only feeds it. It creates an aura of martyrdom and persecution around the idea of religion that only draws people in and hardens their views. If you advocate for all media to tell these people, and not even just fundamentalists, but any one of the billions of people worldwide who are religious, which for most of history has been a large majority of humanity, that they are hated and scorned and considered evil, no exceptions, all that will do is create trauma and fear and even more hatred of everyone not like them. Censorship does nothing except isolate people, harden the lines, and enshrine violence and persecution.

Because it is, also, actual religious persecution as well. Only people who believe as you believe are correct, everyone else is evil, and can only be portrayed as evil. And that, of course, historically never went anywhere bad either. For a specific atheist-on-religious example, see the history of the Soviet Union.

I do get it. Like I said, as will be clear from where I draw the line between real and unreal in the rest of the post, I am actually broadly atheist myself. I am from Ireland, a country where as recently as twenty years ago religiously inspired sectarian violence caused the bombing deaths of a lot of people, where colonisation was partially justified on religious grounds, where part of the country is still colonised, hence said sectarian violence and religiously-inspired bombings. And even saying that is already a loaded and potentially violent statement. I understand that religion can be used for truly terrifying things.

But the same is true of every human divide. Nationality. Rationality. And you don’t solve any of that by picking which bits you want to ban and never see discussed again. There is no quick fix. There is no way to make it go away. Religion has been a part of human experience for as long as there have been people, and it does good things as well as bad. It provides community, it provides resources, it provides comfort. And yes, all of those things have costs, and sometimes terrible ones, the missions had horrific results, but so does every other large scale human system that divides people into categories. See also nation states. See also economic systems. There is no way to just go … ‘If only everyone thought exactly as I thought, there would be a utopia’. Because that in itself only recognises as good the people who think exactly like you. That’s an expression of the exact same desire that every other … well. Religion, nation state and dictatorship. All that says is that you’re hoping it’ll swing around and you’ll be the boot this time.

Censorship is not ever the answer, and no blanket statement that such-and-such a category is evil is ever a) true or b) helpful.

Which is why we have fantasy fiction where sometimes it is easier. Where the problem can be solved by shooting a fictional nazi in the face or stabbing a fictional demon. Because in the real world those don’t work, but it’s nice to fantasise sometimes.

So long as we keep in mind that in the real world it doesn’t work, that in the real world it’s hard and horrible and messy and never as easy or morally clear-cut as we would like, then let fiction do whatever it needs to do, and provide a vent, provide an exploration, provide a representation, or just provide a quick cathartic fantasy.

kind of concerning how married the fantasy genre is to "crusades as a basically good thing"

[mechncheese]

So I’m curious, what are your science guys even up to? Like what’s the concept for them being a team out in space during the war? Is is it not? Very interesting stuff 👀

Oh I am so glad you asked ! This gives me the perfect excuse to yap about the Science Continuity, so buckle up !

So all this stuff is in my Pitchdeck Work in Progress but I'll share what I got (things are still up in the air to change but this is the general gist I'm going with !)

But first I want to begin with a disclaimer !

This continuity does not feature any humans and does not feature Earth. References to Earth related things (media and swears) will be made but overall, this is a story about Cybertronians.

The genre for this continuity is comedy and drama with some lighthearted moments, though it features content such as robot violence and gore.

Romance is not a huge focus in this, though I would be lying if I said there wouldn’t be tension between some characters but for the most part the audience is free to interpret character relationships however they please.

There will be Jetfire and Starscream being messy, that’s the only definitive relationship I can say with certainty but this isn’t reeaaally a Jetfire and Starscream centric/focused story (I'm booed off stage). It’s more like a side thing, so don’t expect to see them interact too much right away. I want to let Jetfire shine and stand out on his own without Starscream and develop Jetfire’s relationship with the other bots as well as explore other bot's relationships in general ! BUT THEY WILL BE FEATURED EVENTUALLY I just draw the funnies that come to my head and right now they're on the backburner in favor of other character interactions.

I'm also not making a full-blown webcomic or anything, I'll have an outline for the timeline / episodic summaries of what happens when I finish this Pitchdeck with illustrations and such ! I will be drawing short comics and other illustrations featuring character interactions + major moments I want to emphasize visually. I do this for funsies on my free time so I may be slow when it comes to that and also don't expect anything really grand, sorraayy !

With that out of the way, here's the Logline for the Science Continuity !

"As war continues to rage on planet Cybertron, A desperate Optimus Prime entrusts Autobot scientist Jetfire and his team of scientists the task of restoring life to their dying planet as they battle against the Decepticons."

Here are the settings/locations of significance/context:

Cybertron - Once Home, Now A Barren Wasteland

In this continuity, Cybertron has turned into a dystopian post-apocalyptic wasteland, drained of its resources and energon amidst the war. The weather on the surface is extreme and fluctuates, forcing Autobots and Decepticons to make their bases within the planet itself.

Cybertron - Iacon - Decepticon Controlled City

Decepticons currently have the upper hand. They’ve overtaken Iacon, Cybertron’s capital city. A majority of the city was destroyed in a major battle with the Autobots. The Decepticons have built their base underneath the city itself, leaving the surface to erode with the elements. 

With the energon shortage, Decepticons have been carefully scavenging the surface for any scraps remaining.

Cybertron - Abandoned Mines - Autobot Hideout

The Autobots have been cornered into the abandoned mines near the outskirts of Iacon. Desperate for any energon, Autobots have resorted to digging further within the mines in hopes of uncovering any untapped veins. They've been sending out expeditions into the mines and onto the surface in search of resources.

Luna 2 - Decepticon Science Base

Luna 2 orbits Cybertron and was the location of the former Autobot Science Base. It was ransacked by Decepticons in the midst of war, forcing the Autobot scientists to abandon Luna 2 through the space bridge. The space bridge is now under Decepticon control, giving them a huge advantage over the Autobots. 

Ambition - Moon of the Hidden Science Base - Main Location of Focus

Ambition is the moon the Science Team ended up on after escaping through the space bridge. The location of this moon is within an uncharted solar system, orbiting a large gas planet among many other smaller moons.

The Science Team has made their new base on Ambition and intend to see their mission to find a way to save Cybertron through. But now they’re saddled with another mission.. How to get back home.

(Note: I made up this location for this AU specifically </3)

--

TLDR: Jetfire was sent out by Optimus with the other Autobot Scientists on a mission to save Cybertron, the war has taken a heavy toll on the planet and he hopes that they can find some scientific means of restoring their home. Wow ! That is a VERY heavy task, no pressure !

This is mostly a story about Jetfire in a leadership position and how he is coping with the weight of such a task on his shoulders while everything goes wrong and the world is against him.

Character personalities are different in this continuity so this a more stern/serious Jetfire than the gentle natured Skyfire G1. He has a team to manage after all !

Thank you for reading if you made it through this beast length ramble, here's Jetfire getting scrubbed

[callme-holly]

Can you please do “Darrel Curtis holding his new born daughter for the first time?” And he’s like totally in love and Y/N is like “Darrel are you crying?” And he, through sniffles is like “n-no” and it’s just tooth rotting sweet?? ♥️♥️

𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

limerence: (adj.) a state of pure, overwhelming emotional attachment and adoration, often accompanied by an almost dreamlike sense of devotion and joy

The hospital room was silent, save for the faint beeping from the various machines around the room and the soft, slight, uneven breaths from the tiny baby dozing on your chest.

Your body ached, fatigue taking hold of every part of you, your eyes heavy and your mind slightly foggy; however, you couldn't bring yourself to sleep and miss this moment. 

Darry was sitting at your side, transfixed by the little bundle. His face held a mixture of awe and fear, his eyes surprisingly glassy and filled with nothing but love. He'd been so tough through it all, your rock during the whole entire pregnancy, and now he was finally letting himself go, finally letting all of his emotions break through. 

"Do you want to hold her?" you ask quietly, almost afraid that if you talk too loud, you will break the comforting quiet that has enveloped the both of you. Darry doesn't respond straight away but nods slowly in response, holding out his arms so that you can carefully transfer the baby to him.

Immediately, his entire demeanour melts, his body sinking further into the chair as he holds his baby girl close to his chest, watching the way her little chest rises and falls. Her face is scrunched up in sleep, her hair fine and dark, and you feel your heart clench as she subconsciously turns to tuck her face into her dad's shirt.

"She's so perfect." His voice cracks as he speaks, and he swallows heavily in an attempt to bypass the lump forming in his throat. You glance up, catching sight of the tears shining in his eyes, and you can't help but smile.

"Darrel Curtis, are you crying?" Your voice holds not an ounce of judgement or disapproval, just pure, unadulterated affection. He shakes his head quickly, clearing his throat but refusing to meet your eyes.

"No... I'm not," he denies, but the way his voice wobbles says otherwise. Carefully, you reach out with a tentative hand, resting it lightly on his arm and squeezing reassuringly. That finally draws his attention to you, and he lets out a small puff of air, disbelief painted across his features.

"She's ours," he mumbles, rocking the tiny bundle as he speaks. "She's actually ours."

You nod, your own tears forming. "Yeah. She is, hon. She's ours." 

Darry smiles down at the baby, and it seems he can't bring himself to look away from her for more than a few seconds.  It's like a magnet for his attention, a sponge absorbing every ounce of love he has to give. "This... It doesn't feel real, you know? I never knew I could love someone so much." he

And the truth in his words, the pure honesty in which he speaks them, is what finally breaks through the dam and allows your tears to seep free. The baby stirs slightly, letting out a small whimper as she shifts, but she doesn't wake. Her eyes stay closed, and you watch with great wonder as her features twitch and twist before settling once more.

"We did good," you speak eventually. "Did really good." 

And Darry can only manage a small hum of agreement, grinning at you like he's the   man on earth, like he's just won the largest bet in history. But no amount of money in the world could ever compare to this feeling; nothing could ever live up to knowing he's got you by his side, and now, this tiny baby too. That's all he needed. Just you and your daughter. And that's all that mattered.

[rats-secret-stash]

Welcome to my BG3 (male romanceable companions focused) ANTI-SIX-PACK RANT /HEADCANONS

[Warning - bad English and possibly incorrect interpretations of characters] [It’s just my headcanons, based purely on vibes. I also want to make it clear that I enjoy and respect various other hcs and portrayals of these characters (and i’ll probably draw them in various ways too). Do not fight me, i’ll cry lol]

WYLL

I’m a firm believer in Wyll being the only male companion with a (fairly) well-defined six-pack

He spent years training and he’s a son of a Grand Duke – so he probably ate well and learnt how to take care of his body properly

I also think he cares about the way he looks (/he’s aware how it can affect the way people perceive him) – so his muscles would be formed partially by practical use (fighting, training) and partially by some conscious muscle-building exercises. In other words, he’s the only male companion I can imagine doing planks and sit-ups in front of his tent lol

However, when I say “well-defined” abs, I mean a nice healthy balance between muscle and fat. None of that dehydrated “flexing 24/7” bullshit

ASTARION

I’m not sure if vampires sustain the body they had before being turned, and i kinda like this idea bc it could explain why Astarion looks like he’s in a good shape when we meet him in Act 1

However, my hc is that his body changes and gets healthier as the game progresses

In Act 1, he should be really thin. And I mean sickly thin. He was starved and tortured for centuries, and I can’t imagine him doing sit-ups in the kennels and working on a six-pack while barely surviving all the physical and psychological torture

After being tadpoled, he finally gets some freedom and is able to eat regularly (especially if Tav/Durge lets him feed on them, which is especially important in Act 2 where there aren’t many animals or alive enemies that he could feed on) – Astarion would get healthier and finally gain some weight

But still, I can’t imagine him doing core workouts in front of his tent. Let my boy rest.

He’s got some muscles (with emphasis on “some” bc that 8 in strength is.. you know), he builds them while doing all that rogue sneaking and killing – but overall he stays slim

Slim BUT (and i’ll die on this hill) he gains some softness. He finally gets that extra roll of fat on his stomach, a little bit of body getting squished by the waistband of his pants. He’s finally healthy and healing

Now we’re getting to the part where I start to scream at Larian for the crime of giving these men six-packs

HALSIN

What do you mean – we get a BIG elf, BIGGER than average elf should be, a man who resembles a BEAR, a man who often QUITE LITERALLY IS A BEAR(animal) – AND YOU DON’T MAKE HIM LOOK LIKE A BEAR(man)??? WHAT DO YOU MEANN??

Putting a high-definition six-pack on this man is a crime.

He should look like a bear, like the hammer-throwing athletes, like Thor in God of War, like a man who can lift a whole ass log while helping build a new shelter for his community. I need him strong. I need him big. I need him huggable. I need him to look like he would survive the winter

He should have strong arms (let’s ignore the fact that he has 10 in strength and that even Shadowheart is stronger than him)

He has muscles, build by physical work and for practical purposes – but they’re hidden under a healthy amount of fat

This man is not hitting the gym to form a six-pack. He’s got shit to do, place to be and people and nature to guide and protect

But, he wouldn’t overindulge in food – he believes in balance and all that, and I think he might view overeating as a waste 

But still, the fat is there bc.. bc it just is, let him eat dammit

GALE

Larian when I catch you. Larian you cowards.

Why does his 8-strength ass have a six-pack. For why. What was the reasonn??

He doesn’t even have to move a finger to do anything, he can magic everything. Fighting? Magic. Having to move the couch in his room? Magic. Telekinesis probably.

This man doesn’t need a six-pack and you can’t tell me he was doing core workouts in his wizard tower – he’s been too busy reading and researching and mastering his spells and romancing a goddess (COUGH or rather being groomed cuz that power imbalance is nasty COUGH)

Also, he mentions food a couple of times, doesn’t he? He can cook, he likes to eat – that’s canon bc i said so. He looks like he enjoys his dessert after dinner. AND HE CAN AFFORD IT. If he can afford all those books, he can afford some snacks too

That being said, if we were allowed to have a fat romanceable man, it would be Gale. He doesn’t need to be slim, he doesn’t need to be ripped. There is nothing in his lore that would justify that (imo) – let his stomach be soft, amen.

(However, I also kinda like the idea of Gale using some sort of illusion spell and that his six-pack is magical lol. Imagine, the rest of the party finding out that this whole time he’s been wasting a spell slot and his concentration ON A SIX-PACK SPELL)

FEMALE ROMANCEABLE CHARACTERS

When it comes to the girls, I can see all of them having well defined muscles and six-packs – they’re all physically strong (or at least stronger than the guys) and they all have a history with fighting/training 

I can also see them without six-packs – especially Shadowheart and Karlach (a bit more on it below)

LAE’ZEL – has the least body fat. I think her muscles should be the most visible. This is the only character who is allowed to have dehydrated muscles, and that's purely because of the way githyanki look

KARLACH – probably didn’t have a chance to rest and eat properly while in Avernus and then while being on the run. I think she could (similarly to Astarion) gain some weight throughout the game – she would finally have a chance to rest, eat and heal a bit. Also, she enjoys a nice meal and some beer

MINTHARA – I have to admit that I don’t know much about her. But she gives me the vibes of someone who likes a routine and takes their physical appearance very seriously (in a military-way, not fashion-way). I can see her building her muscles through fighting but also through purposeful exercises intended to keep her body lean and well built.

SHADOWHEART – she could have a six-pack, I’m down with this hc BUT. I can also see her having more curves and softness. Yes, she had to go through training – but she also can use spells in fights… so it should be fine for her to be softer

In conclusion – let them eat, let them be hydrated, let them look like people and not marvel superheroes

Doodle of Astarion going from starved and newly freed to eating better and getting chubbier

Controversial, but i'm six-pack hater. Out of romanceable male companions only Wyll should be allowed to have defined abs. Thank you for coming to my ted talk

[choco4miruku]

The cutiiiies once again ✨