#Since when do tags have character limits

[usagifuyusummer]

I think they are supposed to be twins???

(maybe originally in the concept art, but in canon it seems they aren't anymore? dion has been stated to be the oldest, but my thoughts are maybe like he's the older twin lmao. i will probably be 100% wrong if there is ever a future installment in this series.)

Funny story, I originally wanted to color these sketches, but I found that most of my traditional art supplies are unusable (the pencil colors has a very faded color, and most of my markers have a diluted yellow coloring lmaoooo ToT). I haven't been using them from 2019 and it really shows.

Oh yeah, here's a full page sketch.

[cherealta]

so my tablet is still on its death bed buuut i had a bunch of outfits from the sims saved from my introductory posts so here's the rest of them for my hss prime and hwu mcs!! i could spend hours on cas. ive had a very productive week. totally.

vivienne: vivi's style is very much inspired by the prep movement that happened in the late 2000s - early 2010s. though it's a little more lowkey and practical (as practical as a girl can get in an plaid skirt!). browns, whites, blacks and occasional dark greens are usually the colors she chooses to wear her love for the color brown is so strong that it even transferred to her hair! common clothing choices are skirts (duh!), mary janes or heels, sweaters, barrettes, necklaces and bow motifs on her dresses. she doesn't experiment with her style a lot (preferring to play it safe) though she falls in love with legwarmers after stumbling across 2000s j-fashion blogs in 2014. when she gets older she basically almost always wears dresses, and yes, with large bows on the front.

agnieszka: her style is a lot more spontaneous. though there is some common patterns. blacks with pops of bold colors, washed out denim, belts, caps/bucket hats, tights, platformed shoes and cropped tops. her style is quite modernized which is mainly bc ts4cc for 2010s fashion is very limited but i'd like to say she was just ahead of her time. after she stopped being so financially dependant on her family she would go to thrift stores and experiment with the clothes she bought from there. she never really belonged to any subculture but this is mainly due to her lack of identity within herself (which i'll go into a whole other time). i think this is what makes her more prone to playing around with colors unlike vivi who mainly sticks to the same browns/whites. when she gets older her style does mellow out a little but it still has the exuberant edginess that her style had at hollywood u.

fun little fact but in color psychology🤓brown is associated with dependability, resilience, comfort and warmth while black is associated with mystery, strength and protection. i think this could align with their characteristics but i DO NOT want to ramble on too long. bring up color symbolizing to me and i'll ramble for hours (studying graphic design and constantly having to work on color theory has ruined my life).

+ bonus outfits!! (warm, cold, athletic and sleepwear! i didn't have any cute swimwear cc despite having 25GB of custom content. so i def need to go on an search.)

[longagoitwastuesday]

I am liking Jujutsu Kaisen, way more than I imagined I would, but I foresee it will let me down and it's keeping me from enjoying this as much as I could haha

I think the characters and dynamics are well set, and I think many of them have an incredibly good and deep potential, but I would be willing to bet they'll not get a proper development, enough for them to really hit. A well assembled set of gears is not enough to make the movement go, you have to wind the clockwork.

I think Gojo and Megumi have a fascinating and very complex dynamic, but I doubt it will be given the time and care that imo it needs to actually work. And it is going well enough for now! One could see the intimacy between them was deeper than the one Gojo had with, say, Yuji and Nobara ever since the very first few episodes despite the fact Fushiguro too was a first year. But the pieces forming what they have are extremely complex, and it just wouldn't be realistic if it doesn't show, even if in a not showing way, or if it doesn't have consequences or implications.

It's one of those dynamics that shape one's life, the way one regards the world, the way one establishes or not relationships with other people. It's one of those dynamics that could be full of fondness, gratitude, resentment, admiration, trust, and that imply intimacy, the good kind or the bad, even if in just the knowledge of someone who's been a constant through your life. It could, and would, imply a myriad of feelings, and probably in such a mix it could imply contradictory feelings too. Even the nothingness would weight, even the nothingness would be significant and meaningful.

Gojo took Megumi and his sister under his wing, the son of a man who murdered him, because of both selfish and selfless reasons. Megumi looks like Toji. What does Gojo feel about this? How does Gojo deal with this? How does Gojo go about taking care of Megumi? Would he walk him to school? Make him breakfast? Celebrate his birthdays making him blow candles? Did he take him to the zoo? Does the relationship between them feel professional or is it something more? Gojo appreciates his students, but is Megumi to him just another student? When Gojo faces Sukuna in Megumi's body, did he see the kid he raised, or does he just see Sukuna in one of his students' body? Did he have one faint wavering instant? And how does Megumi feel about this? Is he resentful of him? Resentful of the situation? Of the selfishness behind his actions? Does he feel like a pawn? Is he grateful? Does he resent feeling grateful? Would he rather not? Does he love Gojo? Does he feel nothing about him other than what he could feel about a teacher that sort of annoys him but knows he's reliable in his strength? Does he think it unfair, cruel or unfeeling that Gojo is close, closer perhaps, with Yuuji or Yuta, considering their story? When Sukuna slices Gojo in two, does the remnants of Megumi's soul tremble?

And not just Megumi and Gojo. Yuuji and Nanami, Gojo and Nanami, Yuuji and Fushiguro, Nobara and the boys, or Nobara and Maki, Todo and Yuuji or Yuta, Gojo and Yuta, Megumi and his sister. Gojo and Geto, even! If the pieces are well set, the dynamics are intriguing, interesting, and have potential to be deep, but then the characters have like two plot relevant scenes that punch you hard, but little more, it's not nearly enough. Especially not nearly enough for the enormity that is shonen dynamics and situations. And the potential existing at all, and then not delivering, makes it all the more frustrating when you're left with something mediocre that could have been so good.

The development of dynamics through not only a few plot relevant gut wrenching moving scenes, but also the smallness of life, is important. The friend who recommended this to me said that those things were just unnecessary filler, but I disagree. I think there's a big difference between a large amount of anime-only filler episodes whose existence is based on the fact they had run out of manga chapters to animate, and moments of quietness. The low stakes character-driven moments of quietness can be so telling and so insightful, and they are so satisfactory when brought back later in higher stakes situations. My friend teased me there was no scene of Gojo making breakfast to Megumi, that it would be an idiotic idea, but it would be so telling. How he makes breakfast, what they eat, if he tries hard or if it's all mechanised, if they have personal bowls or if they use whatever, if he just buys them some pastry on the way to school, if the way they have breakfast changes through the years, or if he doesn't make them breakfast at all! All that would be very insightful on their dynamic and its evolution. All that would give a glimpse on how they regard each other and why, even in the present. All that could become meaningful in tense situations and high stakes scenes.

These moments also let the plot breath; if a lot is happening all the time, if every character is always experiencing trauma after trauma, the entire story is so emotionally draining that at some point you don't even care all that much. Besides, these nothing moments or low stakes plot arcs, besides deepening and developing dynamics, also let some in-world time pass, which would make the intimacy and bond between characters more believable imo; between Yuuji eating Sukuna's finger and their last confrontation in December how much time has passed? A few months? Am I truly to believe these characters are so everything to each other in only a few months?

Without some smallness, some repetition, some daily life, some low stakes not plot-centric development, the dynamics don't hit, they don't truly feel fleshed out, and dynamics as complex as the ones Megumi and Gojo have, or as supposedly meaningful as the one Megumi has with Yuuji or his sister, should be fleshed out if they're going to exist at all. Otherwise they'd risk making the writing feel awkward and fake. Besides, if the dynamics felt well fleshed out and realistic, they would shape the way the characters interact and act, and how they deal with situations, thus being plot relevant.

The shonen genre has so much happening all the time, the stakes are so high, the dynamics are so rooted in big events and the relationships carry enormous weight and implications. Yet they barely get developed, and it feels so stupid, so plain, the absence of something so important noticeable like a constant void, a shapeless nothingness present in every scene. It makes the characters feel like cardboard figures. Jujutsu Kaisen is already getting a better job than many, but I doubt it will do enough for what I've heard, and I fear I am bound to feel let down, and bound to feel unmoved.

After all, if not enough time and care has been given to develop a dynamic, I am not going to feel pressured by the high stakes; if not enough time and care has been given to develop the dynamic between Megumi and Yuuji, as good potential as it has I am bound to feel little for this last confrontation between Sukuna and Itadori, and his effort in getting Megumi back.

[psychopomp-namine]

I actually have a fic idea but lc is a show that's like. you will never ever have all the information and context until the end. and I am a writer who writes best and more confidently when I have all the info and context at my fingertips. so now I'm just like 🧍‍♂️

anyway. ramble in the tags

[paradoxiii]

Sometimes I go on a tangent trying to analyze how I feel about or why I do certain things, & I often feel that by focusing on typing it out it's easier for me to actually make conclusions about the "why", but I still don't have a solution & it's kinda frustrating that I do all this analyzing about myself & still feel like a lazy disappointment to everyone around me.

[cuteniaarts]

In @rokurookajima’s Metalbanders AU, Suiren and Vaatu often study together at Suiren’s place after school. The effectiveness of said studying is… questionable

[cheapshrimpysheep]

What if They were Dads?

SUMMARY: Headcanons of what I think they would be like as fathers to your child. And what if his dormmates were like honorary uncles to the child?

CHARACTERS: OB Students (Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia)

TAGS: Headcanon; Fem!Reader (AFAB) (I never really know what tags to use but I hope you know what I mean)

WORD COUNT: An average of 690 words per character.

COMMENTS: I would have liked to have made a headcanon about the relationship with the boys' parents and siblings, but since we don't know them that well or at all on the Eng Server like Vil's father, I think I'll leave that for a possible post that complements this one. If you want.

Since I didn't want each character to have a big chunk of text, I put them as paragraphs instead of bullet points.

I hope you enjoy 🩵

CONTEXT: This was written with a cisgender female reader in mind. Reader is Yuu. But if you want (and can) read it in any other way, feel free to.

By the way, this is one of those moments when I wish English had a second person plural, instead of the singular and plural being the same. Whenever I write “your child” I mean it in the plural (you, the reader, and his)

Riddle’s child(ren) call him: Father

Riddle has the same demands and standards for his child that he has for himself. But he doesn't want to make the same mistakes as his mother, so in comparison he can be more permissive. Because of this he will ALWAYS listen to you if you tell him he is being too harsh.

In terms of studies, etiquette and behaviour he is quite strict as you would expect. But when it comes to play he lets his child do almost anything they want.

He doesn't know how to play with his child, but he will always make an effort to learn how to and do it with them. He almost seems to regress to the childhood he never had and wants to give to his child. Whenever the child learns a new game, they will show it and teach it to Riddle and he will be delighted with it.

Although he is strict, he is also relatively protective, especially if your child is a girl. He tries not to be overly protective, but he can't help but worry about your child. If there was a right way to raise a child, is he doing his job well enough? You will have several conversations at first to reassure him that he is doing a good job.

He will study any and all parenting books that experts in child behaviour and education recommend. This kind of knowledge is never too much. Which often leads you to try to convince him to relax and just trust his instincts and what he feels is right. The child is his, not all those authors and experts. Sometimes there are things that a parent simply knows.

Lawful and calm Uncle Trey. They love uncle Trey's sweets! Sometimes Riddle asks him if he's not giving them too much sweets and Trey always assures him that it's okay because he knows how to make healthier sweets and the limit for a child to eat. If they weren't already Riddle's child, the whole thing about always brushing their teeth could be scary.

Chaotic Uncle Che'nya. The crazy and fun Uncle! Your child and Che'nya join forces (maybe even with you) to play pranks on Riddle. Never anything that could get the child into trouble with their father, just enough for everyone, Riddle included, to have fun.

Uncle Ace and Uncle Deuce are more from your side than Riddle's honestly. Ace is a bit like Che'nya in the case of being one of the chaotic pranksters uncles. But he is also the uncle of magic tricks who is always deceiving, but also entertaining your child with them.

Deuce is the rad uncle with a cool moto and/or even cooler blastcycle, who offers to take your child for a ride in it with him. Your child also finds it funny to see the two of them arguing amicably. But it’s even funnier to see them imitating their father trying to order them to stop arguing.

Uncle Cater doesn't show up very often, but they like him. He's not chaotic like Ace and Che'nya, but he's also fun. Your child enjoys receiving compliments from him and taking pictures with him.

Your child imitates their father scolding Grim too. Just like Riddle (and probably because they're still little) they have a very bad temper. Riddle gets embarrassed whenever you say that someone takes after their father.

Leona’s child(ren) call him: Dad

Leona still doesn't like kids... your child(ren) is/are just an exception.

Yes, Leona would treat a daughter slightly differently than he would treat a son. In the same way that he treats men and women a little differently. But the only difference is that he would be tougher on a son than a daughter, but will still be affectionate regardless.

No matter what gender his child is, he wants the same for them: be strong both physically and mentally. To outsiders like some servants or citizens who don't know him, they may get to the point of thinking Leona is a harsh father who doesn't deserve all that love from his child, and he will tell both you and your child not to mind that. But the truth is that he is just like he was with you at school: a tough guy who hides a caring heart.

Leona continues to show himself to be a person who doesn't want anyone to upset him and who would growl at anyone who bothers him. The only people who can get close to him even when he's angry and remain safe and sound are you and your child. He'll still growl at you and your child quietly, but there will be a volume that is the line, like if his growl is louder than that limit it's because he's getting really angry, until then it's just him being him.

Your child will already have the best private teachers and tutors (one of them being Kifaji/Neji if he’s still alive), but even so, Leona will want to make them study and learn more. But in that discreet way that he knows. He will not force them to study more, he will find a way to convince them to want to learn more on their own.

You end up being the most affectionate parent and the one they trust for emotional comfort. Leona is the tough love, you are the soft love (at least in comparison). Leona will always tease you, insinuating that you are too soft and only spoil your child. Although he enjoys when you spoil him too.

He is 100% the ‘Go ask your mom’ kind of dad.

He lets his child take naps with him. And you too.

If he has more than one child, he will police himself not to favor any of them. He may have a tendency to favor the younger ones because of what he went through as the youngest himself, but none of his children will be treated in any special/different way based on their birth order. Neither the youngest nor the oldest.

He will try to convince his child not to be too close (emotionally) to their uncle or cousin, but won't stop them from playing with Cheka. When your child is old enough not to tell others what is said in your home, Leona and them will talk badly about Falena and Cheka behind their backs.

Leona will prefer your child to play with Ruggie and/or his children. On the one hand, he wants to keep them away from his family, but on the other hand, he also wants his child to know what the real world is like, to see both wealth and poverty, to know royalty as they knows their people and only then create their own judgement.

They don't call anyone uncle or aunt other than Falena and his wife. In the same way, Leona also doesn't give cute titles to anyone without being sarcastically. Even when he calls you “love”, “darling”, “honey” or something like that, it's to tease you.

Whenever you go to Shaftlands, whether for democratic reasons or on holiday, you always try to find a way to meet with Jack. Leona pretends that he only helps you with this because you want to see your friend and he wants to get rid of his family. Both you and Jack know that he just doesn't want to admit that he wants to see him too. Jack is the cool parent's friend who taught your child how to snowboard. While they are little they like to hug his tail because it’s fluffy.

Despite everything, he doesn't want his child to have the same lack of hope that he has, and despite trying to hide it, he always feels extremely guilty and bad whenever your child says something like that. At these times he relies on you to be the ray hope in that house, they will both need you for that.

Both Leona and your child are afraid of you when you get really serious or angry.

Do you know that scene from The Lion King where Mufasa uses Zazu to give Simba an pouncing lesson? Leona often does something similar, but instead of the target being a blue bird, it's a magical creature called Grim.

Azul’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older)

Azul is an extremely emotional father, despite trying to hide it. There's going to be a lot of moments like: “HE/SHE IS THE CUTEST LITTLE THING IN THE WHOLE- *clears throat* I mean, he/she is such a charming little child.” He will most likely cry at your baby's first words, steps, anything.

Azul is overprotective! If any living creature even thinks about harming your child, he will tortu- that is, find a completely legal way to ensure that it never happens again. Now, if you'll excuse him, he suddenly felt like talking to Jade and Floyd. (The same protectiveness applies to you.)

Although he is very (secretly) emotional and loves to spoil his child, he is also relatively strict about their studies. He likes to spoil them (and you) when it's deserved, but he will not raise a spoiled child! This ends up balancing things out a bit.

He will hide the whole mafia-like part of his life from his child. Dad is just doing business, boring adult stuff. Maybe when your child is older he will start to reveal a little of that side of his life, if they later want to join their father it will be their choice. But until then, let them be innocent children, they are cuter and happier that way, there is time for everything.

He will always hold back his emotional side so as not to be overly affectionate. Unless his child starts crying. At that point his mask falls completely and he becomes the most affectionate and comforting father there can be, that is his weakness.

And if one day the child realizes this and starts using crying to get what they want from him, he won't know whether to be angry that he is being emotionally manipulated by his own child, or proud that they learned so quickly.

You will be the only one immune to the fake crying.

From the beginning, Azul has been wary and suspicious of letting Jade and Floyd be like uncles to your child. However, you two ended up letting this happen, but Azul will always keep an eye open.

Both Jade and Floyd will definitely use the child to play pranks on Azul. Mostly Floyd, Jade prefers to watch and assist. Azul will always be upset with the twins, never with his child. And depending on the severity of the prank, he will turn on his overprotective side and threaten Jade and Floyd that if that happens again they will never see your child again. They never go beyond that limit.

Every now and then when Floyd plays with your child, he will do that joke where he playfully tells them he's going to catch them and bite them. Actually in his playful voice, he doesn't want to scare them. And they will run to Azul and hide behind his legs asking for help while laughing. Or tentacles if they are in their merfolk form.

You know those little plastic cashiers where kids pretend to have a little shop and try to sell things to people at home? Usually parents or sibling. Azul loves to play this with his child because it is a great and fun way to pass on his knowledge. Both about sales and about taking care of your money. Usually using the Grim as a guinea pig. Grim also likes to play because he always ends up with food in exchange for toy money.

If you ask them Jade is the scary uncle (only sometimes) but they themselves don't even know why. It's just his vibe or something. However, they are not afraid to ask any of them for something, it being to play or for help.

Jamil’s child(ren) call him: Dad (in informal moments) and Father (at formal events)

Jamil needed to learn to express himself more and better emotionally so as not to end up being a cold father without meaning to. He needs your help to teach your child when to hold back and when to know when they are in a safe space to let go.

The only thing that will follow Jamil forever is an inevitable feeling of guilt for your child having the same fate as him, simply for being his child: serving the Al-Asim family with no other choice. But you can be assured that if there is a way to stop this and give his child freedom of choice, whatever that method may be, he will not give up until he finds it and do it! Normally parents want to give their children what they always wanted and could never have, in Jamil's case it’s freedom.

There was something Jamil wanted to do, but he didn't have the courage to ask the Al-Asim for some kind of vacation. But you had! Using your great friendship with Kalim, you managed to get him to allow you to take a vacation long enough for you to travel as a family, as Jmail wanted. Jamil has always wanted to travel alone, but now with you and your child he would like to travel as a family and give his child the experiences he would have liked to have had himself.

He is quite demanding with his child's education and training. However, his attitude towards this is always calm and collected, and he is attentive to his child's limitations and needs. He is a great and responsible tutor, who knows how to distinguish between being a teacher and being a father.

He is usually quite serious, so you and your child are the ones who start messing with him to have fun and make him laugh. It's always nice when he reminds you two that he can also be a tease. Normal or biggest target of your joint teasing ends up being Grim at some point.

During his work as Kalim's servant, Jamil always had to cook a lot and he's not that big a fan of cooking, so so he can rest at home you're the one who cooks most of the time. He will teach you everything you want to learn and at first you will cook together a lot until you feel comfortable cooking alone. But even then he will continue to offer to help you. Your child will continue to say that Jamil's food is tastier, but yours is prettier. And the food you make together is the best because it’s tasty and pretty. Jamil will also encourage his child to cook with you two so that they can learn from a young age.

His child knows that there is only one thing in this world that can make their father scream in fear: Bugs! If your child is also afraid of insects, you're screwed, because you will be the insect killer in that house. However, if it is just the two of them, Jamil's protective instinct will be stronger and despite his fear he will protect his child. If your child is not afraid of insects, then Jamil will have two protectors. “Can you do dad a favor?”; “Where is it?”; “Living room, south wall last time I saw.”; “Does it fly?”; “...Yes.”

Kalim will treat your child almost like one of his own children, for loving you both so much. He got emotional when he found out you were pregnant, he wanted to help pay for your doctor's appointments if necessary (never was), and he got emotional again when your child was born. He loves buying toys for your child too and give them gifts. He would love for Jamil to let them call him Uncle Kalim. And he loves it when your kids play together.

Vil’s child(ren) call him: Father 

Vil wants to have a family that is at its best as he likes to be at his best himself. He wants you and your child to be as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside, just as he strives to be as well. However, he would treat a daughter slightly differently than a son because of the different pressures of societal beauty standards.

With a son he would be as strict with him as he is with himself. But with a daughter, he knows she's more likely to suffer from these kinds of things. So although he continues to be relatively strict and wants her to be the best she can be, he ends up being softer with criticism and stronger with praise and soft love than he would be with a son.

He would hire a specialist, like as a child psychologist or something like that, to always know the best ways to rise and protect your child. Children of famous people like him, especially in the digital and social media age, may need more protection from their parents in this regard, in addition to the toxic pressure of comparison that exists. However, because Vil cares so much about your child's personal development as their happiness, he may end up putting enormous pressure on himself to be a perfect parent too.

Both Vil and your child will need you to be the person who brings them both back to the real world and the life of a loving family with flaws like any human being. Vil will always listen to you if you feel he may be being too harsh and demanding with your child, or with himself in terms of parenting.

If you are the type of person who likes to tease Vil by letting yourself be sloppy from time to time, (always at home) then your child will also like to tease their father like that. “You have your mother’s cheekiness, I see.” Vil sighs but laughs. The teasing includes eating sweets and food that Vil would not approve of. You are the parent they ask for things from and who best comforts and pampers them. You two probably team up to make Vil relax and have fun with you.

His child will have the best teachers and tutors, go to the best schools and best establishments for any extracurricular activity they want to have. Vil will probably force them to have an extracurricular activity but they will be free to choose which one.

Rook is OBSESSED with your child! In a respectful way of course, he is just already a huge fan. The result of combining your DNA with Vil's? MERVEILLEUX! He won't hold back the tears when he sees the baby for the first time. He will LOVE playing with your child. He will babysit for free and will be happy to do so if you ever need. It will be a long time before he stops getting so emotional whenever your child calls him "Uncle Rook."

Uncle Epel is the rad uncle, when Vil is not around. He is that person who will help your child do cool activities that Vil may not allow. Like taking a blastcycle ride with him, eat grilled meats, playing with things that make the child very dirty or other things that Vil didn't like Epel to do when they were at NRC. But if at least one parent allows it (you), then there is no problem. Right? All this, of course, when Vil is not around.

When he is there, both Epel and your child behave like little angels. You and Epel have to be very careful that the child doesn't get careless and say something in Epel's dialect in front of Vil. They love Uncle Epel because it is fun to do cool things without their father knowing and with your help.

Your child likes to use Grim as a doll to dress up in cute clothes. The funny thing is that Grim likes it too because your child eventually realizes that if they tell him he looks cool instead of cute, he'll let them keep dressing him up.

Idia’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older)

Idia doesn't believe he can be a good father. A shut-it and antisocial otaku like him? Are you crazy? That's a disaster! He can't take care of himself, how is he going to help you raise a child? However, and especially with you, he also has that overly cocky side that believes that even being an antisocial nerd he would be 1000 times better than a lot of parents out there. So basically he has a tendency to oscillate between these two moods.

In comparison, you are the strict parent, he is the parent who spoils the child. They are both afraid of you when you get upset. He's a ‘Don't tell your mother’ type of dad. He can't say no to his child, but, oddly enough, he can't be emotionally manipulated either. He may even let his child do a lot of things, but even he has limits to what he knows is good or bad for them.

Because he's the permissive father, he's also the scariest when he gets serious. He can never get really mad at his child, but he can say a firm and assertive “No” if necessary. However, if they are still very young and start crying, he will panic and call you immediately. You will then have to comfort Idia and tell him that no, he did not make a decision that put him on the path to the traumatic and apocalyptic ending. What he probably did was the opposite.

If it depends on him, his child will be a nerd/otaku just like his father. However, he doesn't want them to be socially anxious like him and will always encourage them to go for walks with you outside even if it's without him. That doesn't mean there aren't times you drag him outside with you.

Besides occasionally questioning whether he is being a good father, there is something else that haunts him... He still carries and will probably always carry the feeling of guilt for what happened to Ortho, so he is absolutely TERRIFIED that something like that may happen again.

Idia has always tried to keep your child as far away as possible from all areas that are dangerous or even remotely similar to the hallway where that happened. But if your child ever happens to even enter an area that their father did not allow, they will get to know a side of Idia that sometimes you yourself don’t even remember exists: The overprotective, traumatized side that isn't afraid to scare his child if it means keeping them away from the danger. And probably the only way they'll see his red hair. But it will probably be after that, that the two of you will have an open heart conversation and Idia will apologize.

Now, about Uncle Ortho, they LOVE uncle Ortho! He's the one who goes for a walk with you and your child when you and he can't convince Idia to go too. He is a cheerful uncle who loves to play with your child. You three made up stories to explain why uncle Ortho was a humanoid. You always make up different and crazy stories to jest with them and make them change the subject. The day will come when they will be old enough to know the truth.

Idia may even talk badly about himself a lot of the times, but no matter what his child do, they are talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular and everything good. “Of course that's because they inherited it from you, not me.” He will say with a smile.

Both Idia and your child treat Grim like a pet cat and find it funny to see him getting grumpy.

Idia spoke to his child in that baby voice when they themselves were also babies. And maybe also when they are children to the point where they tell him to stop treating them like babies.

Malleus’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older) Father (at formal events)

The day Malleus found out you were pregnant was already a happy day, but the day your child was born was the happiest day of his life! And every moment with them is the happiest moment of his day. And of course with you too. He totally and completely loves his family!

Anyone who dares to speak ill of the child of Malleus Draconia, especially about the fact that they are half-human, will suffer the consequences! Anyone who spoke openly about the child being something of a disgrace, shame or an abomination was either killed or imprisoned. (Depending on how opposed you really are to Malleus killing or ordering someone to be killed.) and of course, the same applies to talking bad about you.

The problem is that this is doing the same thing to your child that was done to him. He's scaring everyone and making them afraid to come near your child for fear of saying or doing something that might upset them or Malleus. He listens to you and agrees with you, showing concern and thoughtfulness about what should be done. He hates people being disrespectful to the ones he loves, but he also doesn't want his child to go through what he went through.

What ends up happening is that, on Malleus's part, he realizes that he has to start learning ways for people to respect his child without using fear, but to do that he also has to start letting certain insults slide. He doesn't like it, but if it's what's best for his child, he'll do the best he can. Although the same applies if they disrespect you. He hates it so much!

In the case of your child, you are helped by Lilia (if he’s still alive), Silver, Sebek and their families. Perhaps trying to spend more time among their people and with other fae, humans, and half-fae might be beneficial to a child's social development.

Lilia would treat the child as if they were his own grandchild. Even if Silver also has children, they are ALL Lilia's grandchildren! “There's no denying it any longer... I am... officially... an old man... For the best possible reasons!” Everyone will rescue your child from Lilia's food. “Never eat anything that Grandpa Lilia cooks, you hear?”

Silver is the calm uncle who, despite not being the most fun to play with, is the one they turn to when they want to rest and simply have a good chill time. Or take a nap. Probably who they turn to to run away and hide from Sebek when he's being annoying. He ends up being the adult (than is not their parents) that they trust most and feel most comfortable with. Silver is very happy when they ask him for help to get closer to an animal to see it better, and even more so if they and the animals end up interacting and playing with each other.

Now about Uncle Sebek... If there is anyone more protective and flattering of that child than Malleus, it is Sebek. He cried when the child was born, for sure. And cried even more when the child said his name, or whenever they at least tried to. The day they called him "Uncle Sebek" he was about to have a heart attack. The problem is that he ends up being one of those type of person who adores children (although in his case the only ones he likes would be Malleus's and his own children) to the point that the child finds them annoying and clingy. “But don't tell Uncle Sebek that, he'll be sad.”

Whenever the child throws a tantrum that ends up causing their powers to manifest in storms or uncontrolled magic, Malleus will take care of it while you stay away and safe. To him, any attack would be mere tickling, but he always made sure that your child knows that the same does not apply to you. They may end up thinking that you are very fragile while they are little, but it is better this way to ensure that they do not hurt you unintentionally.

This also means that whenever you need to say ‘No’ to your child, Malleus will do it if there is a possibility that they would start throwing tantrums. At least while they are young and cannot control their powers well.

Malleus also runs the risk of being a father who spoils his children.

Your child and Grim probably burn a lot of things around the castle because they play together and they both have fire powers.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

And if you would like to read this but with other characters you can write in the comments. If this post has a lot of notes (likes and reblogs) I might consider making a second part with other characters.

[biogist]

dj shitshimself would probably stick.

[brideblessing]

(deep sigh) Time to update my theme and start cultivating posts for my blog on this blogging and posting and theme website

[minimomoe]

How to Train your Demon

Pairing: trueform! Sukuna x Fem Reader

Summary: Life has all kinds of wins and losses. You don't know which category to put your new demon husband in though.

Tags: MDNI!, red string of fate trope, true form sukuna, librarian reader, soul mates, reincarnation, accidental summoning, love at first sight (buti it's one-sided (until it's not)), Sukuna is demon, but he's v much in love, smut and stuff eventually i guess....

Song inspo: E.V.O.L- MARINA

Part I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII. (completed!)

Rule no. 1: Don't show fear

It was a mistake. A comical, nonsensical, monumental mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. You didn’t mean to create a soul tie with a demon . All you did was read a torn up book from the library. Was it an occult book about spiritual practices in the Japanese Heian era? Yes… but it doesn’t warrant an eldritch horror being your life partner. 

Actually, according to the demon, you didn’t create the soul tie, he has been waiting for you all his life. Cute, but it didn’t make the situation any better. Damn your natural inclination to catch the old and withered items thrown into the donation boxes of the library you worked at. It just pained your heart to see pages falling out of books, and the ominous leather bound grimoire was no exception. 

Restoration was one of your favorite things to do. Knowledge is always worth saving, no matter how old it may be. Books were your life. You found yourself lost in them, enchanted, terrified, taught. You had no genre as your favorite. Everything was welcomed, nothing was off limits. You knew a little bit of every culture, every study, every block buster fantasy. If you could, you’d build a machine that would let you live inside of a book and experience the scene yourself. 

Technically you could ask your all powerful demon to do that, but you didn’t want to deal with him right now.

You still weren’t all too sure on how it happened. First you were glueing the pages back to the spine of the book, running your fingers over the deckled edges when you opened a page that was stuck together. You carefully peeled it apart, a task that took ten minutes to do to avoid any additional tears, and opened up to a page that was different from the rest. The words were written in a rush, the strokes of the characters dragging much longer than it should. You only knew a tiny bit of Japanese (but much more of Latin, Russian, Yoruba, and French from having just an abundance of time on your hands), but this time you could make out some of the words. 

You muttered the ones you knew for sure, used context clues for the ones that were beyond reading. It didn’t make a lick of sense to you. You closed the book with a clamp so that the glue would set and decided to come back to it tomorrow since it was closing time. There was no rush of wind, flash of lightning, or eerie sounds. Just you and the screech of a thousand cicadas as soon as you stepped outside to walk to your car. A normal Thursday night.

Until it wasn’t. 

You shuffled around your house with a new arc from your favorite novelist in one hand, a glass of wine in the other, and the largest frame of glasses known to man perched on your nose. Jazz music quietly spilled out from your hidden speakers, preventing the house from getting a little too quiet as you lived alone with your cat. It was a total boring cliche, you were well aware, but you were happy with your life. You had friends who you trusted, a great relationship with your parents, and just recently got out of a relationship with someone who you didn’t hate, you just grew apart. There was no chaotic, negative energy to feast on in your household and you liked it that way. 

You thought you heard your cat clawing on the door when you were snuggled away in your bed. You flipped the covers over and went to let her in to snuggle with you. 

“I’m so sorry, Cleo. I thought you were already in here with me,” you said, scooping her up from the floor. The ragdoll cat begrudgingly accepted your kisses of apology. You set her down on the bed, watching her find a good spot to curl up in and smiled. You went to reach for your wine glass you knew that you set on your nightstand, but there was nothing in the glass. You were sure that you didn’t finish it. You paced yourself well enough for it to last until at least chapter five, but there wasn’t a drop of alcohol left. 

“The quality of sake has diminished over the years, I see.” 

The voice came from all around the room but also deep in your chest. Cleo hissed, making a run for it out of your door, leaving you wildly spinning around for the intruder. You lunged for the heavy duty taser you kept in your nightstand, but when you turned around there was nobody there.

“What is that?” 

The bone chilling voice spoke again. Was it one person or many, you couldn’t tell. 

“I— I have a weapon!” You tried to steady your voice but it was hopeless. You were terrified. There was nobody there but you could feel a heavy presence in the room. 

“You call that a weapon?” The voice laughed. “The only weapon my wife needs is me.”

The statement made you falter. “Wife? Who are you?”

You turned around once again and nearly jumped out of your skin. A man, or a close approximation of one, sat on your bed flicking through your book. It was impossible, but he had twice as many limbs on his top half than he should, and double the amount of eyes. They were bright and red when scanning through your novel. “What language is this?” 

“F-french,” you whispered. You were dreaming. You had to be. That was the only way this could be happening. Still, dream or not, you had to protect yourself. You pressed your taser and watched the prongs leap out and touch his bare skin. He looked unbothered, merely looking down at his stomach where the taser landed and moved his arm to reveal a mouth on his abdomen. A tongue flopped out and licked the prongs, dragging it back to the mouth and the taser was slowly dragged out of your hands and into the mouth. You watched in horror as the hard plastic was crushed to pieces in front of your very eyes. 

“Useless weapon,” he reiterated, this time looking directly at you. “Don’t insult me again.” 

“Pl—please don’t hurt me.” There was nothing left to do but beg. You already punched yourself till blood was drawn. This was not a dream, you were looking at a real, evil monster who didn’t know French and ate high voltage tasers. 

He rose from your bed. You crawled away as much as you could until you bumped into a wall and still you wanted to move through it. He stood before you, looking over your trembling frame and called out for you. 

“Rise.” 

You rose, unsure if you really had a choice in the matter. One of his many hands cupped the side of your face. A clawed thumb brushed away the tear that fell on your cheek.

“Why do you weep?”

“Um… well… I don’t really know who you are,” you said honestly. You were still pinned to the wall, unable to flee and he took up your entire frame of sight. He nodded, removing his hand from your face and raising it in the air. You thought he was going to strike you and you flinched. When you opened your eyes again he was multiple steps away from you, still raising his palm.

“Time has faded your memory of me. You are my wife, and I am your husband. The string of fate proves that we are mates.” 

He stated it so matter of factly. You are my wife, and I am your husband. My wife, your husband. Mates. Forget dreaming, you have officially lost your mind. 

“I don’t… remember agreeing to that,” you said carefully. The words “husband” and “wife” bounced in your head in a crazy echo. You slumped to the floor, your body suddenly very tired. A laugh bubbled up your throat and escaped your mouth. So much for your boring life.

“Do you not feel the connection? The string is tied from my last finger to yours.” You looked at your hand, not seeing any supposed string and shook your head. 

He frowned. “You do not agree to it. It has been decided.” He crouched in front of you, inspecting your face earnestly. One side of his face was strange, not normal skin, instead inhuman, bumpy and shades darker. 

“You look the same after all this time,” he murmured. “I will make you remember.” 

“Let’s not do that,” you said quickly. “I don’t even know your name and I am not married. I’m a librarian and I have a cat. And I have never, ever met you before.”

“I am known as Sukuna, among other names,” he responded to one of your distresses. “What title is a librarian?”

This time you laughed. An deranged laugh, loud and unbecoming. Sukuna waited as impatiently as he could for you to be finished, but you kept on cackling. Once out of breath, you wiped the tears out of your eyes and leaned against the wall. It finally dawned on you how this happened. The drying grimoire that was locked up in the library was responsible for this strange turn of events.

“It’s not a title, at least, not in the way you’re thinking. It’s my job, one that I love very much. Was I ever a common worker before?”

Sukuna bristled at the thought. Even his tummy mouth frowned. “You were a queen. You wanted nothing because you had everything.”

“Interesting,” you mused. “I’m so not your girl.”

“I’m not interested in little girls.”

“Kudos to you. I think I’m going to sleep now. I’m clearly much more tired than I think I am.”

“We have things to discuss,” Sukuna protested, but you already slipped under the sheets. If I force myself to sleep he will go away, you thought. 

Instead you felt the dip of the other side of your bed and flung your eyes open. Sukuna was in bed, with you, staring your down with his four eyes. He was much too close for your liking. 

You looked at him wildly. “What are you doing?” 

“Resting with you.” 

“Get out of my bed!”

“Are you no longer tired?” 

“I am tired. Extremely tired, but that doesn’t mean I want you on my bed! Stay on the floor or something!”

Sukuna rolled his eyes at you and turned on his back, his arms crossed in two sets on his chest. 

“You were always particular with your sleeping habits. I see that hasn’t changed either.”

“Stop acting like you know me!”

Sukuna got off the bed to sit on the floor like you asked. The only problem is that you could feel his gaze prickling your skin, making it impossible to ignore him. You didn’t feel bad about kicking him out, he certainly didn’t have a pout on his face because of it, but something needed to be done. 

“Face the door instead of me,” you mumbled. 

His eyes twitched. “Commanding me like footmen,” he grumbled, yet he still turned away. You wondered if his obedience had something to do with the book. Sukuna had the aura of someone who doesn’t listen to anyone, yet he’s been more than understanding with you. Maybe you really were his wife. Maybe you were having a very elaborate and maladaptive daydream. You thought of “maybe’s” until the sun came up, still staring at the back of his pink, spiky hair. 

Your alarm chirped for you to get ready for work. You groaned. You didn’t get a second of sleep. You were too afraid of being eaten by the demon you accidentally summoned. You reached out to shut off the ringing clock as quietly as you could, but Sukuna touched it first. 

“How strange,” he said, turning the clock around in his hand. He brought it up to his ear, shook his head, tapped the glass. Then he crushed it. It was made of plastic, but the shards bent and broke to the floor left his hand unscratched. You gaped at the mess he made as he let the remains fall to the floor. “It was making a wretched sound.”

“Yeah…” you sighed. “It was pretty noisy.”

You had to find out how to get rid of him. Fast. 

Thanks for reading loves!! lemme know what ya think xx

Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII.

M.list || Twitter || Ao3

[angelltheninth]

Could I request Neuvillette whimpering when his lover unlocks his praise kink? Man's was a soft Dom until she started softly praising his skills in bed.

I'm someone who thrives on praise too so I totally get wanting this. I would praise the hell out of Neuvillette.

Pairing: Neuvillette x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, doggie style, whimpering, praise kink, Neuvillette's powers

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Honestly though, tell me I'm doing a good job and I'm yours. For a limited amount of time it takes me register that praise. But for those few seconds I'm yours.

Loves to fuck you from behind, not because he can be rough but because he really likes kissing across your back and your shoulders, where he then bites down with his teeth

Teases your clit a lot, and really a lot, to the point where you feel like you're gonna come if he so much as touches it

But then he stops suddenly because he can't let you finish before he's ready

He hasn't deemed it right for you to finish just yet, and what he says goes

Usually he holds onto you while you're having sex, one arm wrapped around you, or even his tail sneaking around your leg

More of a fan of praising you then degrading you

His movements are never sloppy when he's he's about to come, his composure perfect, his thrusts deep, his long cock never fully leaving your quivering pussy

But as soon as you tell him good good it feels that he's taking you from behind while also managing to be such a gentle lover you feel his tail coil tighter

He tells you thank you, his voice a little more higher pitched

As soon as he bottoms out and you moan his name while telling him how you want him to creampie you so he can use his tongue to eat it out afterwards he lets out another sound, a higher pitched whimper

Doesn't want you to hear him whimpering so he distracts you by reaching between your legs and rubbing your clit between his fingers

He needs you to make more noises than he is

That plan was doomed to fail the moment you heard that first whimper from him

Realizing that the normally stoic, well-composed, stern man fucking you can actually whimper like that wasn't something you were ready to let go of

Not easily

He knows he's in trouble when you look back at him, a grin on your face, a chuckle leaving your lips before you praise his talented fingers, praise the way he's constantly keeping your clit stimulated by quickly rubbing his index finger over it with its whole length

Or how he's making your cunt absolutely drool all over his cock, slick sticking to your thighs and his balls every time he pulls out

You're telling him how nice it feels when his huge cock bottoms out and you feel it twitch while still in your pussy

Neuvillette is a mess, and further spiraling with every word you tell him

At first you don't even notice that it began raining outside

Since it began raining faster and faster you guess that he's getting close, you don't even have to guess because at this point you know that when he wants to creampie you, it absolutely pours outside

The sound of rain does nothing to dampen the whimpers next to your ear

If you tell him you want his cum painting your pussy and he's done

But what happens in the bedroom has to stay in the bedroom, you can never tell a soul that he likes being praised to the degree he can't stop shaking and whimpering and clinging onto you because he can't stop coming inside of you

[daimus]

people have done this before, but not us

You’ve known Oliver since you were best friends with his little sister in elementary school. Somehow, it never occurred to you that he’s also just a man with desires. 

wc — 4.9k

tags — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, dry humping, grinding, Oliver Aiku sex tutor lol, childhood friends, inexperienced reader to the point of disbelief, best friend’s older brother but it’s less relevant than I thought it was going to be bc I didn’t feel like making up a whole new character for his sister, title from during the impossible age of everyone by Ada Limon (sorry for using it like this)

“He said you’re off limits,” Bachira says. 

“How did you get in my room?” 

Bachira’s laying on his stomach on the edge of your bed, his legs dangling off the edge. He’s kicking them like a toddler, cute almost, but his eyes are shrewd. 

“Oli said that his friend is coming to watch, but we can’t talk to her, and normally he doesn’t mind sharing, so I was like huh, she must be special to him. So I had to come see you for myself, right?”

“Uh huh,” you say, not really keeping up. There’s a tinge of annoyance building in you too, for more reasons than one. 

“So I thought about it! And the only place they would’ve kept you is-“ 

“Help!” You scream at the top of your lungs. “There’s a strange guy in my room! Help me!” 

Bachira bolts up, reaching for you, but you squirm away. “Stop,” he hisses, alarmed, but it’s too late. 

The door flies open, revealing Oliver, completely unamused. 

“Your friend is stuck up,” Bachira whines, but he doesn’t really seem angry, just mildly inconvenienced that his plan didn’t work. 

“I told you not to even look at her,” Oliver scolds. “You Blue Lock boys couldn’t listen to directions if it killed you.” 

“If it killed me-“

“Just go,” Oliver groans. “Now.” 

When it’s just the two of you, Oliver looks different. The transformation happens in seconds, so quick you wouldn’t know it was there unless you knew to look for it. It’s nothing so obvious as an expression, just the slightest shift in the line of his lips, a certain ease to the heft of his shoulders. 

He comes and sits next to you on your bed, where you’re blotting at the wet spot you think Bachira might’ve drooled into it. How long was he in here? Enough to take a nap? 

“I’m sorry.” 

You sniff with an air of haughtiness, but really you’re only mildly annoyed. You just want him to pay attention to you, and he will if he thinks you’re upset. He always does. “I thought Blue Lock would have better security.” 

“We don’t have any security, actually.” 

“What? But you guys are famous now.” 

He shrugs. “Ego rented out the whole hotel for Blue Lock and friends and family. There’s security outside to keep people from getting in. But inside? Nothing. I think he’s insane, personally. No telling what those boys will get up to. I was a teenager once, I would know.” 

“Talking like a grandpa already,” you say with a laugh. 

“You little-“ He pushes you down into the sheets, messing with your hair. “I’ll show you a grandpa.” 

“I think he drooled on my bed,” you frown. “Where am I going to sleep tonight?”

“We can share my room,” he says easily, casually. “Like we used to.” 

But we used to was over ten years ago. 

Oliver is gone when you wake up, which he warned you he was going to be. He offered to make breakfast, but you told him it was impossible to wake up at the same time as his insane footballer schedule, so instead you trickle into the cafeteria with the other aforementioned friends and family. No Blue Lock boys - they’ve been ready for hours. 

When you try to unlock the stadium doors with your priority pass, you find you can’t. The light flashes red over and over again - you’re beginning to feel embarrassed. 

“Fucking - work, goddamnit,” you hiss under your breath as the lock emits a loud buzzing noise for what feels like the twentieth time. 

“Here.” He’s your age, white and green hair, sleepy eyes. “Let me.” 

He introduces himself to you as Otoya. It’s a very memorable experience, since he also gives you his phone number, his Instagram, and his room number. Just in case, you know. 

You can practically hear Oliver’s voice in your head, telling you to stay away from him, except it’s not in your head, and he’s walking up, warning Ootoya not to mess with you. 

“Are you following me?” 

This feels like a reasonable assumption to make, but he rolls his eyes at you. Then he says, “Of course I’m following you, you idiot. Did you listen to anything I said last night? This is a facility full of hormonal teenage boys - my sister would kill me if I let anything happen to you.” 

His sister. Right. 

Otoya looks between the two of you. “Sorry, Oliver. Didn’t know she was yours.” 

You want to jump in with a protestation because first of all, you’re not, and secondly, that feels demeaning, but Oliver pulls you into his side in a way that makes it clear you’re under his protection. He just tucks you into the space beneath his arm like a mother hen, folding you away until you’re barely visible behind him.

“Well, she is,” Oliver says. 

It does something funny to you, hearing him call you his. 

It’s almost a pity that Oliver invited you, because you don’t really care about football. At this point, you can’t even really be bothered to pretend to care either, except for the really important matches, the ones where Oliver’s eyes sparkle and you can tell he’s actually invested in who he’s up against. Otherwise, football is a job like any other. People don’t get it. They’re always begging you for tickets to games, but you’ve been friends for so long that, well, it’s like being excited about a big project at your friend’s company. Yay! Profit! 

As far as you can tell, the match goes smoothly. It’s the after party that you have to worry about. 

Otoya makes a beeline for you as soon as you slip through the door, which really shows the amount of authority that Oliver has in here. 

“Fancy seeing you again,” he says cheerfully. 

“I think everyone’s here,” your response is dry. Oliver did tell you to be careful around him, after all - although he said the same thing about every other man in here that isn’t him. Overprotective much? 

Your standoffishness doesn’t bother Otoya. 

“Come on, don’t be like that. I don’t know what Oliver’s told you, but I’m not a bad guy.” 

“Right,” you don’t even look up from your phone. This is awkward. You don’t know anyone here. 

“Oliver’s worse, I would say.” Your head snaps up. “Oh, that got your attention.” 

You can’t resist it. Oliver’s your favorite thing to talk about. “How so?” 

“Let’s just say that if you like Oliver-“ 

“I don’t-“

“You should stay away from him for tonight. For your own good. He has a bad habit he has to indulge with a different girl every night. Just hang out with me instead,” he says with a rakish smile. 

“You’re just trying to get me to spend time with you.” 

“I mean yeah, but it’s true. Oliver’s…Oliver. You know?”

“No?” 

“No,” says Oliver. “She doesn’t. Because she doesn’t believe whatever ridiculous ideas you’re putting in her head.” 

“Oliver!” You brighten up and snuggle into him. He wraps a warm arm around your shoulders, radiating heat all the way through your body. 

“I’m ridiculous? You’re a stalker, man - how many times have you interrupted us already?”

“Only twice, and there won’t be a third time. Go find some other girl to bother. I mean it, Otoya.” He squeezes your shoulders. “This one’s mine.” 

The second time, it doesn’t feel as nice. He only says it when he wants people to leave you alone. He doesn’t mean to condescend, but the way he acts sometimes makes you wonder if he ever really understood that you grew up with him, or if he always sees the little girl from his childhood when he looks at you. He only claims you to make other people leave you alone. 

He sighs with relief when Otoya finally slips past the two of you, grumbling under his breath. 

“What were you talking about?” 

“You mean, what did he say about you?”

He breaks into a crooked smile and hands you a glass of water off a nearby table. “Caught me.” 

“He just implied that you’re a flirt.”

“Just? Or did he make it sound like I’ve been slutting it up in the NEL?”

“I hate the way people talk about you.”

He softens. “It’s not…it’s not wrong.” 

You turn to him, grabbing his face in your hands. “It is,” you insist fervently. “I know you’re not like that. You’re good, Oliver.”

You’re both liars, but it’s a game you like to play. You like to believe that he’s good and he likes to pretend he’s good for you. 

He’s always loved the way you grew up worshipping him. 

“Want to get out of here?”

You nod. 

You’re his little sister’s best friend. You used to idolize him. He was your knight in shining armor, your schoolyard savior. He walked you home after late club meetings and bought you ice cream at the convenience store when you thought $5 was a fortune. 

You love him, but you can’t tell if you love the idea of him or the man himself more. Oliver doesn’t seem to mind himself. In fact, he feeds into your fantasies. 

You know you’re the only girl he won’t fuck. 

On the tiny couch in his room, only slightly more furnished than everyone else’s due to his coveted title as captain, Oliver settles in next to you, momentarily bending down to sweep your legs into his lap. It’s so casual and so fast you don’t even register it. His thumb swoops comforting circles over the jut of your ankle, but his hand feels almost like a brace with the way it’s positioned, locking you down. 

You squirm a little to see how much give your makeshift anklet will allow you, but he playfully smacks your calf and says, low and throaty, with the rasp of a growl underneath his tone, “Settle down.” 

You stiffen like a log. He laughs and runs a hand up and down over your leg, smoothing imaginary wrinkles in the fabric. “Not like that, idiot.” 

Cute like a little sister. Cute like a kid. For Oliver, you’re all the warmth of home and domesticity. You could never bear to take that away from him, no matter how corrupted you’ve become, like every other greedy adult, sin burning like coals in your stomach and loins. You want to let him think you don’t know desire. 

You fall asleep on the couch like that, his warmth bleeding into you everywhere. 

The morning after, he makes you instant coffee as he tidies up his suitcase. You’ll be leaving together. He’s taking you home. He insisted. 

“Oliver,” you start. He hums to show you he’s listening. “Why do you fuck?”

He chokes. “Excuse me?”

“Is it like a medical condition? Like your dick will fall off if you don’t sleep with someone every night?” 

He walks over and kisses the top of your head. “You’re so cute,” he says fondly. “And ridiculous. And naïve. Don’t ask anyone else that, okay?”

“I’m not stupid.” 

“I do it because I want to. And it’s not every night, it’s just when I want to feel good.” 

“How good?”

He flicks your cheek. “This is some bold questioning, young lady.” 

Your cheeks are warm. Despite the fact that Oliver is obviously a sexual person, to the point where all his teammates know, he’s a curiously desexualized person in your head. You’ve just never thought of him that way, always separated the warm, sheltering bordering on smothering presence in your life from that. 

But now you go home with your face on fire, trying too hard not to think about what he looks like when he’s fucking into a tight little hole. What he sounds like when he’s close. 

Stop avoiding me. 

Shame burns through you at the text a few days later. You know he knows, because how could he not catch on? You’ve always been latched on to his every word, running to your phone when you get the tell tale notification, and now you lets hours pass between replies. 

You better be coming to dinner with us later. 

Dinner with the Aikus is always an affair, more so now that his little sister has gone off to college in another country. It’s in their blood, the itch to start over, be someone new in someplace new. You’d grown apart by then, but you still cried seeing her off. Oliver let you bury your face in his shoulder and soak his shirt wet with tears. 

Years ago, you’d never imagined, even in your wildest dreams, that you’d be closer to him than her, but some things change. 

And some things don’t. 

The Aiku family car is still always stuffed with random things, momentous from childhood, Oliver’s old soccer ball, some miscellaneous donations left over from cleaning out his sister’s room. They’re apologetic that there’s no space for you to sit, but you can just sit on Oliver’s lap, can’t you? Just like the old days, Mr. and Mrs. Aiku laugh to themselves in the front, reminiscing while you press your legs together and try very hard not to pant disgustingly lewdly into Oliver’s ear. 

He has a hand on your hip, the other on your thigh. Is it just you or does this feel- the car hits a bump and Oliver’s grip tightens, steadying you. 

It’s just you. A wave of shame washes over you at how obscene you are, lusting after Oliver when he’s just trying to keep you safe. 

“Comfortable?” He murmurs, pressing his cheek against your shoulder briefly. He’s a tactile person, always soothing with a touch or a kiss. 

You can’t say no, so you settle for a strangled ‘mm-hm,’ but you can’t get settled. You keep shifting on his lap, trying not to give away how bothered you are. Every time your mind drifts, you think about Oliver’s hand creeping up your leg and- 

You wriggle again. 

“Stop that,” he says. His voice is stern. “Don’t make me hold you down.” 

“Sorry,” you squeak. He sounds weird. Strangled. 

You feel something hard pressing against the underside of your leg and try to adjust again. Oliver hisses and pulls you against him, his arms like a straitjacket. 

“I said stop,” he hisses in your ear. 

The realization dawns on you like ice down your back. 

He’s hard. 

You can feel it through his pants. 

When you get to the restaurant, you practically jump off of him. He discreetly adjusts his cock in his trousers and runs off to the bathroom. By the time he returns, Mrs. Aiku has given up on waiting and already ordered for him. 

They’re a close family. She knows him. And, she says fondly, a hand over yours, she knows you. 

It’s nice to be loved like that. 

You’re sitting on the steps outside their house, waiting for Oliver to grab his coat to drive you home, when he sits down next to you. “Just give me a second,” he says. “Let’s not go yet.” 

You lean his head on his shoulder. It’s surprisingly easy to act like nothing ever happened in the car. Your body naturally relaxes around him. 

But even with all your defenses down, Oliver doesn’t take advantage of them, when you know for a fact that he would pounce on some other girl. 

Does he think you’re ugly? Or too inexperienced? 

Well, one of those you can fix. 

“You don’t know how to kiss, do you?” Says the stranger. His lips pull in a smile and you’re aware that he’s laughing at you. 

You don’t know why you ever thought you could do this without Oliver, not when he’s spoiled you your whole life. You’re too used to being pampered to strike out on your own. 

In his apartment, a mug of hot tea warms your palms. You’re not going to drink it, it’s just nice to have. You trace the contours of a cartoon face, some gift you brought back from it when you visited his sister abroad, and let him scold you. 

You deserve it, you think, for being such an idiot about this. But Oliver always reduces you into stupidity.

“Why,” Oliver looks exasperated, “did you let some random guy you don’t even like kiss you?” 

You didn’t cry when you were at the cafe and the guy you met on some dating app was publicly laughing at your inexperience, your sloppy way of kissing, but for some reason, Oliver’s sharp tone makes tears well up in your eyes. It’s not like you expected him to be on your side - you knew he was going to tease you at the very least - but you’ve had a bad day and it hurts. 

You don’t want to be chastised right now, you want to be cuddled.  

“I’m sorry,” he softens. “I’m not being fair. I’m sorry, baby, I’m not blaming you, don’t cry. It’s not your fault.” 

Your lip trembles as you try uselessly to stay composed. You want him to hold you and tell you everything will be alright. 

He does something similar, but not quite. 

“Could’ve just asked me,” he jokes. Then he reaches over and grips your chin, tugging your head around a little. “Pay attention. I see your expression. I’m being serious, you should’ve asked me. I would’ve treated you right, not some random guy.” 

“Right,” you roll your eyes. Oliver has never been interested in you, which is why you had to find someone else in the first place. 

He forces you to look at him again by his hold on your face, not letting you hide from him. Your face burns with embarrassment, staring dead into his eyes. He looks horribly sincere and it cuts through you like a knife. 

“When have I ever lied to you?” His voice is soft in a way it only gets for you. “Come on, baby. I’ll show you how to kiss. I’d rather it be me than some random.” 

“Really?”

“Just think about it like practice, okay?” 

He guides you to his couch, familiar for your platonic movie nights and cuddles, but this time, he tugs you down into his lap. You collapse onto him with a startled ‘oof,’ as he wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles into your hair. 

“Just practice, okay?” He reiterates, as if he needs you to confirm. 

“Uh-huh,” your voice shakes. He’s so close, and so warm, and he smells incredible, woody and spicy and masculine. He laughs under his breath, laughing more when you kick him. 

“Stop,” you plead, “I don’t know how! Don’t make fun of me…” 

He rests his cheek against yours as your voice tapers off. “I’m not laughing at you, honey,” he coos, “don’t be upset with me. You’re just so cute.” 

You hit him again. 

“So-“ He grabs your chin between two fingers and jerks you around a little, watching the way you struggle to keep up with him. “Eager. Like a puppy. You don’t know how to clean up your own messes yet, right, baby?” 

He kisses your pout away. “Ah-ah,” he murmurs. “There you go again. Match my pace.” 

But you want more and you let him know it, trying to slip your way into his mouth so you can suck on his tongue again. It feels good in a way that makes you a little ashamed of yourself, wet in your panties from a little kissing. You can imagine how you look from his perspective, drooling into his mouth, panting and messy with saliva smeared across your lips. 

You know you shouldn’t be acting like this, but this sloppy kissing only makes you burn hotter. The back of your neck is flushed with desire. You almost feel scalded by wanting, feeling the hardness of his body pressed up against yours, the strength of his thighs underneath your legs, the iron grip of his fingers, toying at first with the edge of your shirt, brushing against your skin in fleeting butterfly kisses, before finally giving in and branding you, digging into your soft skin. 

Losing control like this is something you’re not used to, but you’re so desperate you can’t help yourself. You’re scared he can hear the sticky slide of your thighs against each other even though you know it’s just your imagination. Even if logically you understand this to be an impossibility, feeling so good you can’t control yourself has you throbbing. Your cunt feels like a second pulse between your legs, drooling pitifully with want. 

He pulls back again to your discontent. You can practically visualize steam rising off your heated body with the way you melt against him, more of a vessel for desire than a real girl. 

“Slow down,” he murmurs, pressing a chaste, close mouthed kiss to your lips against your cries for more. His hands skim your sides lightly, fleeting touches that disappear and reappear. “It’ll feel better if you let it build.” 

But you’re so feverish you can’t think, reduced to nothing but exposed nerve endings that need touch, need him. He moans into your mouth, finally letting you suck on his tongue again. His free hand comes up to wipe at the drool that’s dripping out of one corner of your lips, popping his thumb into his mouth to lap it away. 

You can’t help your teary eyed face or the sniffles, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He angles his head so he can kiss you harder. You hate to admit it, but he’s right. Letting it slowly build makes this so much hotter, his hands in your hair, lightly scratching your scalp as he kisses you like he’s starving. You suck in air through your nose desperately, still feeling short of breath and almost high as he presses your body into his like he could eat you alive. 

It doesn’t feel like kissing anymore. It feels like he’s trying to erase what makes you you and him him, to break down everything the two of you are until you can become one full being. 

You so distracted you don’t even notice what you’re doing until he bounces his leg a little, helping you grind against him. 

That sends shock jolting down your spine like an ice bath. He wraps his arm around you, locking you down in what might as well be a steel cage for how helpless you are against him, preventing you from clambering off his lap. 

“It’s okay,” he coos. “Aw, baby, my baby, don’t look so upset, nothing’s wrong. You’re just a little excited, that’s all,” and he drags you back down so he can bounce his leg for you again, watching the way you gasp and droop against his arm for support. He’s practically holding you up, his arm stiff behind your back as he lets you grind almost mindlessly against his thigh. 

“There you go,” he murmurs, “don’t stop, it’s okay.” 

His voice is syrupy sweet, almost condescending - no, definitely condescending, like he can get you off better than you can. 

And you believe it, trying to stop yourself, even though it feels so good that you can’t keep yourself from humping his leg even as your brain tries to scream at you to stop, that this is too far past ‘just practice.’ 

He lets you grind on his thigh like that for a while before you notice, too focused on chasing your own pleasure to be fully aware of anything else. You can feel him hard under you, accentuated by the fact that he’s obviously trying to subtly shift your weight off his dick directly so you don’t notice. You settle in, watching him with wide, innocent eyes. He exhales softly, trying to control the rasp in his voice as he politely asks you to get off him. He knows he’s caught. 

“Who’s excited now?” You laugh softly. A thought strikes you. He shivers as you blow cool air into his ear, his head tipped back, throat exposed. You can see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard. 

“You minx,” he mutters against you, a complaint accentuated by nipping your lower lip. “I didn’t make fun of you.” 

“Your loss,” you shrug. “It’s so fun,” and you bear your weight down against him again until he whines, straining up against you. That feels good enough that you have to grip his shoulder again for purchase, feeling his heat press up against the sticky mess of your panties. 

“Stop, you have to get off,” he chokes out. “I’m not going to- Please, I’m going to-“ 

“Why?” You frown. “I want to.” 

“Come on baby,” he says. “You’re going to make me cum in my pants. Get off.” 

You roll your hips down against him again and again, shuddering as you feel yourself leak more. He jolts against you, straining against his jeans. You can see a wet spot where you’ve pressed against him. 

“Yes-s-s,” your voice is staccato in delivery. “Please.” 

He grips your waist so hard you can’t move. You can feel your skin bruising under his fingers, surprising yourself with how much you want it. 

“Don’t do this,” he says softly. “I’ll take advantage of you.” 

“You’re killing the mood,” you snap back. “If you don’t, I’ll find someone who-“ 

It’s an empty threat, but his eyes narrow. He says nothing, just dips his head to your neck. The first graze of his tongue across your skin makes you jerk with surprise, but then it’s warm and wet and pleasurable and a little painful. Each brush of his lips brings an electric shock with it that feels heady. 

He’s trying to distract you. It’s working. 

“Inside,” you whimper. “Please? Please?” 

You sound pathetic. You sound desperate. You can’t help it, can’t even make a more convincing argument with all the blood in your brain migrating somewhere else. 

“No,” he groans. “Fine, just stay- just like this.” 

His hands move your hips until you’re grinding with him, rocking down into each thrust upwards. It builds and builds, a pressurized heat in your stomach that feels almost like fear, until you swear your whole body is thrumming with a force that you can’t explain. 

Oliver’s relentless, each thrust matching the way he drags you down until your clit hits the fly of his jeans, the friction sweet. “F-fuck,” he grunts. “You feel so good, you’re so pretty, so good for me.” 

You nod helplessly, riding the motion of his arms and legs, letting him do all the work. He shows you how to do it. He’s always led the way you for you, let you hide in his shadow as he was brave. 

He smells so good. You don’t know why this, of all things, is the only coherent thought in your head. 

You can’t speak, can barely breathe, robbed of anything but this steady, building pressure inside of you, beautiful and thorned and dangerous. You don’t know what’s going to happen when it breaks, but you your blood feels like it’s been spiked. 

He makes it first, yelping as his hips stutter against you, then falter. You can feel his cock twitching under you, but he doesn’t move.  

“Oliver?” Your voice is too loud in the silence. You’re almost annoyed by the interruption - you were so close. Your brain wants to go back to pleasurable mush, that fuzzy, colorful, sparking world of satisfaction. 

“Give me a second,” he gasps. “I think I just came in my pants.”

You tilt your head in a way you know he’ll find cute and grind experimentally down. 

He grabs your waist immediately. “You little brat,” he says, more amused than angry. “Stop that, I’m sensitive.” 

You pout. “What about me?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he says. “Of course I’ll take care of you.” 

Your panties are translucent, outlining the contours of your pussy. Oliver groans and presses his fingers up against the wet fabric, playing with you through it until you squeal and snap your thighs shut around his hand. He runs a soothing hand over the soft flesh of your outer thigh, shifts the soaked gusset aside so he can press in deeper, and keeps going until you’re whining and sobbing and making all sorts of noises that sound more at home from an animal than a person, but he doesn’t seem disgusted. If anything, it spurs him on, trying to coax you into completely breaking down. 

You slump forward against him, spent, and he turns his head a little so he can brush your hair over one shoulder and press a brief, soft kiss against your neck. His fingers toy idly with the hem of your now destroyed panties, occasionally brushing against your clit in a way that sends a painfully pleasurable zing up your spine. 

“Should I give you a taste of your own medicine?” 

You shiver and shake your head, still wondering even as you deny it if you can take more, but he laughs against you, husky and low. 

“I know baby, I know. No more.” 

[thewickwheat]

I'm going to a post full details under the cut, but a short run down:

I've sort of vaguely mentioned this here and there but this year I'm forcing myself to go on a long hiatus. Its been something in the plans for years now, but I can't put it off any longer because 2024 was the worst wrist pain I've dealt with and I don't want to risk permanently damaging myself if I haven't already.

If you're waiting on a comm, don't worry! My hiatus won't officially start until I've finished them all up (estimating April-May to finish up everything), so just bare with me!

Character Sheet comms are staying open

If you're able and willing to support me during this break, please check out my shops or my Patreon!

Ko-Fi - Physical/Digital Merch + Donations

INPRNT - Physical Prints

Patreon - Process Videos and WiPs

Full details and extra info under the cut

So this has been a long time coming but this year I’ll be taking a long hiatus. This is something I’ve wanted to do for years but I can’t put it off any longer due to how bad my wrist pain was in 2024. I’m feeling incredibly burnt out as well and my turn around times growing longer and longer is a very clear sign of it. It also means I’ve had a growing anxiety that if I continue at this pace I will end up doing permanent damage to my body, if I haven’t already. Creating art is the one thing I know I want to do for the rest of my life, be that drawing for myself or helping other people see their visions come to life, and I don’t want to put that at risk.  

So I can’t put my hiatus off any longer and I’m making this year the start. If you are still waiting on a commission from me, don’t worry! I am going to keep working on them and my official hiatus time won’t start until everything has been finished up. I’m estimating April to May to get everything cleared off the table since I’m going to work at a steady pace. Character sheet commissions are going to remain open, they are not in high demand and I can put them in a queue and so should anyone have interest in one during my hiatus, it could be something I pick up when I need the extra cash. However all other types of commissions are going to be unavailable for the foreseeable future. 

I am aiming for a 6 month long hiatus at the least. If I can go longer I will aim for a full year break. Freelance and commission work has been my main source of income for over 10 years now, so during this time I may also look into getting a part time job so I don't have to rely so heavily on art, which will also affect how much I’ll be able to take on in the future. I’m not quitting art during this hiatus, I do want to keep drawing and creating! But I will be working at a slower pace, creating for myself, experimenting and trying other projects. I also have more merch ideas on the list to work on! I’ve got some plush designs I want to have made,namely a new Zenos plush that will have doll fiber hair that can be brushed and styled.

I will also design more tag style keychains with more XIV characters (like the Scions and other major NPCs), since people have really liked those a lot! I’ll also plan out some other ideas and maybe design some original design plushies or other merch. We’ll see!

If anyone enjoys my work and wants to help support me during my hiatus, please check out my available merch. I have prints on INPRNT, and a variety of items on Ko-Fi (limited prints, artbooks both physical and digital, keychains, stickers, etc.), I also have a patreon where I post process videos of illustrations. You can also drop donations of my Ko-Fi. I will be adding a goal that I’ll set at a high amount I don't expect to reach, just because I personally want a visual of donations or purchases during my break. Even small donations would mean a lot. If only 10% of my followers on twitter or tumblr bought a single Ko-Fi donation, it would be a substantial amount of money. I say this not to guilt folks into donating, but to point out small donations can still have a lot of power. And so I appreciate any support at all!

Thank you so much if you read this entire message. It means a lot to me and I hope a good long break means when I’m  able to get back to commission and freelance I’ll approach them with much more vigor and skill!

[zayneslady]

summary: it's been a while since the last time you saw him, but you missed him so terribly.

warnings: angst/comfort. Happy endings for the win *sobs* Pt. 2 of these scenarios

characters: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier x reader (separately)

a/n: I wanted to apologize. I got some comments saying that perhaps I wrote them a bit too ooc and that they wouldn't do something like this, so I was thinking maybe I should step out from writing these; I'm probably not understanding the characters very well. I'm really sorry! I had this one written already, so this is probably going to be the last post I make! Thank you for your support! In only a couple of days you guys were so amazing and loving, I'm super moved and I don't deserve you all at all ❤️

classification: scenarios

tag list: many of you asked me to tag you in the second part, I hope you guys like it! 💕

@biitchyberry @rosaryia @lcheerymotion @mo0nforme

ZAYNE ❄️

It's been four weeks since your argument with Zayne. The first days had been like hell. You had already tasted the honey of a relationship with the person you liked the most and loved the most. You wanted more of him, you needed more. You felt anxious without him, like you had become addicted to his kisses, his gentle touch, and the sweet words he whispered in your ears. You missed him more than you dared to admit.

The days passed slowly, each second seemed to last an eternity. When you got home you felt the emptiness of his presence and you felt like dying, but life continued on, and eventually you got used to being without him. The pain was still present, but more bearable as time kept its course. 

You had stopped frequenting the places you knew he liked for fear of running into him. The dessert shop, the cafe near the hospital, the night stands near the library. You even avoided getting sick so you wouldn't have to go to the hospital. Your life was limited to going to work and coming straight home, with occasional visits to buy groceries. 

You would never have thought that you would have to live a life again without Zayne and only because he didn't know how to separate his friendships from his romantic partner. So smart, but so stupid at the same time. 

You sighed, returning to the present and the food you were making; it was too late when you realized it, but unconsciously you were making one of his favorite dishes. You weren't going to waste the food, so you just carried on trying not to think much about it. 

“Now, where did I put–,” you stopped, surprised by the sudden knocking on your door. You frowned, you were not expecting anyone, but the knocking continued once more and you sighed, turned off the stove. “I'm coming.”

You regretted opening the door. Opening just a crack to see who it was, your heart fluttered in your chest as if there was a small caged bird inside it. Zayne was standing in front of you. He looked ridiculously tired, more than you'd ever seen him. The bags and dark circles under his eyes were deep, his skin did not look radiant and healthy as always and his eyes did not shine like emeralds. 

Your hands were sweating and your insides were churning. "Are you okay?" You asked with a broken voice. Zayne shook his head and he fainted, but with a gasp, you quickly wrapped an arm around his waist and tried to keep him upright. “Zayne! Hey, what's happening?” 

Zayne didn't answer you, and just leaned on you. Not knowing what to do, you dragged him inside and carefully guided him to your room. Once there, you laid him down on your bed, he looked weak. 

“Zayne? Can you hear me? Are you okay?” 

He mumbled your name and your heart raced. “I'm… I am sorry,” he said as he finally passed out. You gasped, but soon heard the soft snores you were so used to. 

Was he that exhausted? And what was he doing at your house? You frowned, fighting back the stinging sensation in your eyes as you tried to hold back some tears. He really always appeared to stir everything inside you. You had already accepted your life without him, but here he was. You sighed heavily, taking off Zayne's shoes and covering him with a blanket.

Your eyes couldn't help but admire him. Even though he was tired, he still looked as handsome as ever. It seemed like a dream, an illusion that would disappear at any moment. You wanted it to happen. You wanted him to disappear, but at the same time, you wanted to take him in your arms and kiss his face. But no, clearing your throat, you grabbed an extra blanket and left the room, closing the door behind you. It was better to let him rest so he could leave as soon as he got up. 

The next morning you woke up to soft steps. Sitting up and whining a little after sleeping on the couch, you saw Zayne coming out from your bedroom. His hair was messy and he was rubbing one of his eyes like a little child, something warm spread across your chest and a smile tried to spread your lips, but you stopped it. He seemed more rested, the bags under his eyes had diminished considerably and his skin looked a little more alive. 

“Zayne.”

He seemed a bit startled as he looked at you with slightly wide eyes. “Hello… I am sorry I fell asleep.” 

You hummed, folding the blanket. “Haven't you been sleeping well?" You didn't want to sound worried, but you were. 

“I haven't… I constantly have nightmares and I've been working over time… a lot more."

“Why?”

“Because I can't stop thinking about you,” he said and despair filled his eyes. “You have no idea how much I've missed you. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I have been working nonstop so I can have my mind occupied, but you're always there, in the back of my head.” 

Don't cry. Don't cry! 

“And what exactly do you want me to do about it, Zayne?” You said coldly, wanting to get over with this. 

Zayne approached you and you couldn't move as he took your hands. “Please, please. Give me another chance. I swear. I swear in my life that I do not have feelings for her. I just… I was just stupid and took you for granted. Please, my love, please.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes and you cried even harder as Zayne grabbed your face. "N-No, don't touch me.”

“Please. How can I show you I truly want you? Do you want me to stop talking to her? I'll do it. I'll do it, so please. Just… please. I can't live without you.” His words sounded sincere.

His eyes were glassy and the pain on his face was evident, but your heart still hurt. How did you know that he really wouldn't leave you as a second option anymore? You couldn't even tell him to stop talking to Miss Hunter, you knew this was just Zayne's fault. 

“Zayne… Zayne you're hurting me so much.”

“I know. I know I am and I am terribly sorry for this. I love you. I truly love you.” 

You also loved him, so much. 

“... If this ever happens again, Zayne… I won't forgive you another time. Remember that.”

His green eyes shone with happiness as he pulled you into a tight hug. You hugged him back, the tips of your fingers tingling as you felt his warmth, the tip of your nose digging into the crook of his neck, you breathed deeply, enjoying his scent. 

“You're on trial, Zayne.”

Zayne chuckled and he nodded. “Yes. You won't regret me, I promise you.”

RAFAYEL 🐠

Life was boring without him. He was the spark and the spice in your days. With him, every day seemed like a small adventure, but now that you no longer saw him, the days seemed dark and lifeless. You didn't even remember how much time had passed since that day. One week? Three days? Two months? You weren't sure and, honestly, you tried not to think about it too much because, even though you missed him, the pang of pain in your heart almost made you gasp for air every single time you recalled every moment with him. It was almost as if his bodyguard had also been there, on every date with Rafayel, for all of your conversations were about her. 

He was full of praise for her. He named each of her virtues and laughed affectionately at her defects. He didn't accept anyone claiming that they were better than her or stronger, because his precious bodyguard was the strongest and the bestest. Just thinking about it made you feel tears filling your eyes. You didn't want to remember any of it, but as you held your phone with your thumb hovering over the dial button, you couldn't stop thinking about how miserable Rafayel made you feel, even when he also made you feel like the most loved person in the world. 

When he didn't have his mouth full of his wonderful bodyguard, Rafayel showered you with affection. His kisses, his hugs, and his caresses all felt full of love and tenderness. His beautiful eyes looked at you sweetly, as if you were the most precious thing that ever existed on earth. He liked to tease you and make you laugh and he always said that you were like a muse for all his paintings: The sparkle in your eyes, the color of your hair, the texture of your skin, the curves of your body, everything was inspiration.

How could he be so cruel and loving all at the same time? Poor bodyguard, you even didn't like her although she hadn't done anything wrong, as far as you knew. 

Sighing, you finally tapped on the green button and your heart raced faster and faster at every beep coming from the other side of the line. Would he answer you? Was he… with her? Was he busy with one of his paintings? What if- 

His voice calling your name surprised you, making you jump. “I’m here! Hi!” he sounded out of breath and your cheeks blushed. “Hmm, h-how are you d-doing?” 

“Rafayel…,” you took a deep breath. “I… have some clothes at your place. Could I stop by later to get them?” 

“YES! I… I mean… yes. I'll- I'll be here all day. You can stop by at any time you want.”

“... Right. Then, see you there, Rafayel.” 

You let out a long sigh after hanging up. You had forgotten how wonderful his voice was and the way he pronounced your name. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You were going to see him, you were really going to come again, but you shouldn't be excited. What if he and his bodyguard were dating? The thought made your stomach twist and you decided it was best to leave immediately. The quicker you finish this, the better. 

As always, the door was open, but you didn't immediately enter, your hands were shaking and your heart was racing against your ribcage. You didn't want to see him.

Taking a deep breath, you gently pushed the door open and you were greeted with that aroma that you had missed so much. The smell of acrylic paint, the sea and Rafayel's scent. You couldn't help but take a long breath- this exquisite smell felt like home. Your eyes watered a little, but you tried to stay calm as you walked deeper into the spacious house.

“R-Rafayel? Are you here? "You heard a gasp from the room and in a second, Rafayel appeared in front of you. Ah, he looked as wonderful and beautiful as always. His gorgeous eyes were wide, looking you up and down as his mouth stretched into a shy smile. You wanted to hug him. “The door… was open so I just- I'm sorry.”

“No! That's okay! I… I left it open for you!” 

You nodded. “I see… do you mind if I just…”

“No, go ahead, please.” You excuse yourself as you made your way to his room, as you passed by him you felt your legs tremble and you gasped in surprise when he suddenly took your hand.

“Rafayel, what-

“Please, forgive me,” he begged, his eyebrows furrowed in a painful expression. “I was absolutely wrong, you were so right. I was stupid and careless and hurt you so badly.”

“Rafayel… I just came for my clothing, let me g-

“Please!” He hugged you and you went stiff. “Please, please,” he sobbed in your ear. 

“Are you crying?” 

He nodded. “I can't live another second without you. I can't paint anymore. I feel like a piece of me has been taken away, I live half and barely. I really, really do not have feelings for my bodyguard. You're the only one I can think about.”

“Then why- 

“I just… I was just stupid, I didn't mean anything to hurt you, I swear! When I said I missed her, what I wanted to say is that I wanted to train with her, I would never make you train, that's too dangerous,” he started to explain in a rush. “When I told you about the candies, it's because she gave me some amazing chocolate I wanted to gift you and then-

“Rafayel-

“Please. Just this once, I swear,” he said, finally showing his reddened face, tears streaming down his face. You gulped, reaching up to clean his tears away and he whined. “I wasn't there to wipe your tears, I am so sorry.” 

That made you burst into tears. That's right, you really wanted him to wipe your tears. He gently cupped your cheeks and his thumbs brushed against your cheeks, catching all of those tears falling from your pretty eyes. 

“You can break up with me if I do something like that again! But please… just this once. I love you so much. I really do.” 

You looked at him, His eyes were still wet and some tears were still falling down his cheeks. Maybe…

“Just this once, Rafayel… I won't forgive anything like this ever again.” He beamed and leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss, but you covered his mouth, frowning slightly. “I'm still mad at you.”

He blinked and gently smiled behind your hand before taking it in his. “Of course, I'll prove myself to you, beautiful creation.” 

XAVIER ⭐

You couldn't sleep. It's been two weeks since you last slept properly. Two weeks ago you were in Xavier's arms and he held you lovingly, whispering words of comfort in your ears. You weren't sure why, but being around Xavier always made you feel relaxed, a little sleepy, but never bored. You loved spending lazy times with him, taking naps and frolicking in bed, giggling like fools and giving each other soft, tender kisses. 

With his warmth and love it was not difficult to fall asleep at night, he always wanted to sleep so that tranquility that emanated from him was enough to relax you and make you sleep throughout the whole night. In the mornings you felt rejuvenated and full of life and seeing his sleepy smile was like living in a dream. 

You felt your bottom lip quiver into a pout. You missed him too much. You never thought he would behave that way. Had you never really been important to him? If he wanted to be with his partner so much, why had he even agreed to go out with you in the first place? 

“Agh! I hate you Xavier!” You cried, banging your fists against the table in your kitchen. “Why did you let me fall in love with you?” Maybe you really had gone crazy, talking to the table like that. 

There was no time for this. It was almost dark and you still needed to go buy some groceries for your dinner. You struggled out of your house, so tired and dragging your feet. You wanted to sleep... with Xavier. You wanted to feel his warmth. But... what if he now wrapped his partner in his arms? Your cheeks turned red and, trying to avoid thinking about it, you hurried to catch the bus. 

You found a seat near the door and next to a young man, there weren't as many people as you imagined and as the bus started to go you felt your eyes heavy. Maybe... you could sleep for a few minutes? The store wasn't far away, so just a few minutes... just a couple of minutes… 

You heard your name being called between clouds. From far away. Over and over and over. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. 

“Hmm?” You opened your eyes and gasped, How long had it been?! Where were you? And... why was your head...? Had you fallen asleep on someone's shoulder?! "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" You said, raising your head only to find that the young man next to you... "Xavier?!" 

The hunter blinked, his eyes avoided yours for a second before looking directly at you and nodding a small greeting. Had he been there next to you the whole time? You could barely notice what was happening around you with how tired you were, but, strangely, you felt very good. It seemed like he really was the cure for all your ills. You chuckled softly, shaking your head. Xavier looked at you confused, tilting his head to the side like a little bird. 

“I'm sorry, Xavier. I didn't know you were there,” you jumped, “but wait, where are we?!” Checking outside the window, you could tell you were far away from the store now. 

“We're almost at my place,” he said gently and the alarms in your head set off. His partner... didn't she live in the apartment below?! Oh no. Before, you had no problem staying at Xavier's house, but... if they were really in a relationship…

“I gotta go,” you said, seeing the next bus station. It was already dark outside.

“Where are you going?” Xavier asked and you frowned.

“What do you mean? Back home. I only wanted to go to the store, but I fell asleep as you could see… Now it's even dark. Thankfully it's not raining,” you were babbling to yourself as you waited to arrive at the next stop, when you finally did, you got up. “Sorry about that, Xavier. Goodnight.” 

"Now... The next bus…," you mumbled checking the bus's schedule. "10 minutes? Lucky~"

“I'll go with you.” 

You couldn't help but squeal and jump when you heard his voice right behind you. Turning around, you saw him standing there, as tall as he was and as bright as the stars. 

“I'll take you home. It's dark. Something could happen.”

You rolled your eyes. "What could happen, I'm only going home.” 

“Some witnesses have seen wanderers in the area. I can't let you go alone." 

You sat on the bench, arms crossed, Xavier sitting next to you. "Ah, that's true. I'm not strong like your... Forget it." Your cheeks turned red. Very well! Keep opening your big mouth! Xavier didn't say anything, but you could feel his gaze on you and the blush on your cheeks traveled to the tips of your ears. 

Silence reigned between you. You could feel him, his warmth, he was so close to you, you could reach out and touch his knee. Your eyes felt heavy, you wanted to hug him. 

“I am sorry,” he suddenly said and you thought you imagined it but then he repeated it. “I am sorry for what I said the other day.” You turned to look at him and flinched when he saw his bright eyes looking sad and red. “I don't know what I was thinking. Talking like that in front of my girlfriend. Acting like I didn't want to have been there with you, but you're the only person I want close to me. I don't like nor have feelings for my coworker, I only want and need you.” 

He gently wiped a tear from your rosy cheek, his touch was electrifying. 

“You haven't been sleeping well.” You didn't answer, but he continued. “I haven't been able to sleep either. I keep recalling that day and seeing your crying face, I can't stand it… please forgive me.” 

He took your hands and you finally looked up at him, your eyes widening as you saw a small tear fall down his cheek. 

“I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I still beg you, I beg you to give me another chance. I promise I'll do better. Something like this will never happen again. I was an idiot." 

You frowned, “you were an idiot. Do you have any idea how you made me feel? It's hard to believe you love me.” 

He nodded, listening to you carefully. “I know it's hard to believe, but please let me prove it to you, let me show you how much I love you, please. I can't be without you anymore, my star. I need you, otherwise I'll go crazy. Please.” 

You sobbed and Xavier gently pulled you close to him. Wrapping you between his warm arms. You tried to pull away, but he didn't let you and soon you melted in his embrace, crying into his work clothes. 

“Please, give me another chance.” 

You nodded softly. Just one more chance. “There's not gonna be a second time,” you warned between sobs and he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. 

“I won't need them. I will treasure you as the most valuable thing that you are. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” 

[animeyanderelover]

I already did this concept with Dazai in those Hc's so I will not add him in here again.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, clinginess, manipulation, blackmailing, bribing, paranoia, attempted murder in Nikolai's part, isolation, abduction, death of reader in their previous world

Tags: @shumidehiro @izanami78 @leveyani

Isekai'd into their world

Nakahara Cuuya

🟠Bullshit! That’s the initial reaction that Chuuya has when he finds out. There’s a limit to how much he is willing to believe even though throughout his life he has seen some things you’d have to witness with your own eyes to believe in them. It is true that there is nothing about your past he has been able to dig up as your life has seemingly started the moment you were discovered by an elderly couple on the streets. You’ve always claimed that you couldn’t remember anything before you where found and since there has been nothing the police was able to find out about your past, they gave up on the case as you were slowly assisted into society. Chuuya doesn’t believe your claims though that you suffer from amnesia. He might be hotheaded but he’s been working for the Port Mafia for years now, has even been made an Executive. The one skill you develop in this position is to get a fairly good read on the person in front of you, on their body language as well as on whether or not they speak the truth or not. So whilst he has no solid proof about whether you lie to him or not, there is this intuition that he has in his guts that there is something you are hiding.

🟠His overprotective and paranoid thoughts tend to spiral so his first assumption is that maybe there is someone after you and that you’re on the run. If that is the case you don’t have to worry. Chuuya can and will provide protection if someone is after your life. The longer you remain silent about your past, the more impatient he grows. Chuuya hasn’t always been honest to you either, especially regarding his position in the Port Mafia. But you needlessly fuel his anxiety as you don’t reveal anything, only feeding his paranoid thoughts as he wonders what you could hide that is so atrocious that you don’t even want your lover to know. Yet when you tell him the truth finally, sensing that he is close to snapping, he gets mad at you. Are you mocking him?! Don’t lie to him now! He doesn’t believe you. He doesn’t believe you until you see yourself forced to reveal everything you know about him. You know about Sheep, about Arahabaki, about the Port Mafia and about so much more. Only then does he believe you. The truth did not ease his worries though. No, instead Chuuya feels betrayed. Betrayed that you have known everything about him from the very beginning.

🟠He can’t hide. He can’t pretend anymore either. What’s the use? You know everything about him. With no facade to hide anything anymore Chuuya grows weirdly aggressive yet vulnerable. He doesn’t know how he should deal with this situation where he had no control over what he reveals about you and what not. It is fucking weird to know that in your world he doesn’t even exist and is instead a fictional character. What do you even think about him when he stands in front of you? Do you even see him as a real person? With really nothing to lose anymore Chuuya just abducts you then and there, unable to come up with another solution on how to handle this situation. Obviously he doesn’t tell anyone else about you though as he himself has to properly come to terms with the truth. As heavy as the feeling of betrayal sits though, there’s also desperation and paranoia. Desperation because he feels like he deserves to find out more about you as well since you already know far too much about him and paranoia now that he understands that you’ve died before in your world. You can’t be fine after all that happened, right? He’s going to help you.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

🍎Fyodor has always deemed you to be someone who stands out from the common crowd, for reasons he doesn’t understand either. Perhaps it is because your eyes perceive what others can’t see as he will never forget his first encounter with you. The glimpse of pure fear in your eyes as you gazed at him, seeing the demon disguised as a man. The way your body flinched away from his touch as he reached out to you, sensing the doom that would befall you the moment he’d feel your body. Only very few people have ever been able to realise him for the higher being that he is and it is the fact that a common sinner like you sees right through him upon first meeting him that makes you special. Fyodor tests his theory out only once by cornering you, giving you no chance to hide behind others as you are left alone with him. The sadist in him is relishing in the untarnished fear he sees in your eyes, purple orbs gazing at you as you slowly move away from him. He doesn’t follow you but he doesn’t have to. You poor thing now can’t run away from him anymore. You’ve dared to catch the devil’s interest and for that you will greatly suffer for Fyodor only knows how to take and destroy.

🍎It is when he figures out that you have no past that you only deepen his obsession. It’s intriguing. No past sins to judge you by, no trace of an existence stained in impurity before you appeared in this city. No matter how much research Fyodor does, he’s unable to figure you out. You’re a mystery to him, to a messenger of God. Oh, it is indeed a dangerous game you are playing. What could you be possibly hiding from him that is so forbidden that not even he can know? It’s like you’re trying to trigger him and it is this lack of control, the inability to cast divine judgment upon you as you are incomplete without a past to hold you accountable for that leads Fyodor to do something he normally never does. He rushes the process slightly, lures you faster into the spider’s web until you are trapped. The first thing he asks of you to confess is your past, the one thing he can’t find out about you. What are you? Are you a sinner or are you something more? No normal human should be able to deprive him of information he can always gather. The time for your confession has finally come, the day of your judgement has at last arrived. Now then you little mouse, confess.

🍎If only you would know how much you fuel his obsession the moment you are forced to reveal the truth to Fyodor. A sinner always pays with death to free them of their sins yet you have already died in your own world before you were brought to his own. You are free, or at least freer, of sins than anyone else on this planet. So before this world can ruin you once more he is going to isolate you, to shield you from the impurities of this world. After all it is the duty of an angel to bring salvation to those who are worthy. Now he also understands why you were so afraid the moment you saw him. What was the first time for him to ever meet you was after all only the first time for you officially meeting him as you had seen him multiple times before as nothing more than a fictional character in your own world. Maybe there is a scientific explanation of how it is possible for you to be transported into a world that was only fictional in your old reality but Fyodor pushes another agenda onto you. Have you ever considered it to be the will of a higher being? Have you ever considered it to be a second chance given to you? Don’t you worry too much. He will help you flourish in this world.

Jouno Saigiku

♦️​BadumBadumBadumBadum. The melody of your heart when Jouno finds you one day stranded in an alleyway is certainly a good indicator of the fear and the anxiety currently swirling around inside your mind. Be assured though, he is here to help the little wounded puppy he's found himself right now. You'll just have to tell him who you are and where you are from and he'll get you safely back. That is at least the plan, the only problem is that you refuse his help. Hmm, that is strange. You're acting a bit suspicious, you know? Your little heart is telling him that his appearance seems to have only increased whatever stress you've already felt before. Is there something you're trying to hide from him? Even though his eyes are not able to perceive you, you don't strike Jouno as someone who has done something wrong that would force him to take actions against you. Still, he interrogates you, at least until he has gotten his confirmation that you haven't done anything criminal nor plan to do so. Technically that should be enough yet your heartbeat still hasn't calmed down. He's the reason. You're afraid of him. A reaction that usually only the bad guys have when seeing him.

♦️​The Hunting Dogs are heroes even internationally, normally citizens like you rejoice when seeing him. There are still things he'd like to ask you but you actually seem to gather some courage, tell him shortly that he has no reason to keep you trapped any longer since he has gotten his comfirmation. He isn't exactly pleased with the tone you use but he lets you go, though he's still quite dissatisfied with what he has gotten. As if fate is smiling down upon him though he soon has the pleasure to meet you again. You're still as close-lipped as the first time he met you but since he has now figured out where you work he decides to make acquaintances with your co-workers who are far more talkative. He can sense you standing there in the corner, your heartbeat going crazy as they tell him that you've recently started working here and haven't told them much about your past either. So you really just keep it a secret from anyone. That only makes him more curious, you know? With his position it is relatively easy to gather intel on you though it is when he is served with little to nothing that he truly starts realising that you must carry quite the secret around.

♦️​That is the kickstart of his obsession as he wants to figure out what it is you are hiding. What is the dark secret you don't want anyone to know about? His only clue lies in you and so he torments you with his visits, constantly attempting to guess what it is you are hiding only to never figure it out. How could he have known that you died in your previous life only to be reincarnated into a world that was purely fictional in your old world? It is after the abduction that you are left with no choice but to spill out the truth and as much as he would like to ridicule you for such an otherwise blatant lie, your heart is not lying. You're actually speaking the truth. And Jouno doesn't know how to reply to that, just staring at you with a furrowed face as if considering what the best response or even best reaction is to the truth he has so desperately wanted to know for so long now. You think that you see a glimmer of unease appearing on his face before he suddenly bends down, his hands grasping your chin. Just how much do you know about him? Even though you are his beloved Saigiku has ever considered revealing too much to you yet perhaps you already know too much, leaving him strangely vulnerable.

Nikolai Gogol

🕊️​To Nikolai you have always been entertaining. He has the fondest memories of the both you meeting for the first time, a sentiment you most likely don't share with him. After all it was obvious from the very first encounter that all that you felt for him was dread even though his disguise should have been immaculate, able to fool anyone else. He hides his sinister and twisted character when he needs to do so yet you have seen right through him and it is this seemingly keen intuition of yours that has gotten him so invested in you. Nikolai has never meant for this interest of yours to stay nor to develop into a burning passion that threatens to rip him off the wings he so desperately hopes to obtain. The demon threatening to steal his soul is none other than you, his crooked feelings for you spinning and turning as Nikolai finds himself trapped between two clashing desires. One is to obtain his freedom by murdering you, another one is his desire to keep you and share his sad fate of isolation and oppression due to his own feelings with you. It is a constant inner fight and more than just once has he considered ending your puny life yet there is one factor that ultimately stops him.

🕊️​He plans to torment you, to ruin the life you have so carefully built for yourself and the freedom you have in it yet it is the little information he can gather that has him pausing. No family, no friends, no past. You are essentially like a ghost who appeared overnight. He has no past which he could use to chain you down, nothing personal he could hold against you and that knowledge that he can't properly oppress you unless he knows about it torments him and only infuriates him more as if you were indirectly mocking him. Fine, he'll cut the games short then. When you wake up the next time, it is in a little cage with a cheerful Nikolai asking you how you're doing and if you have slept well. That grin only widens and turns into somethin hideous when he sees your eyes overflowing with fear. Yes~ Let that fear corner you and tie you down. Share your suffering with his own. There is still something, you precious dove, that he really needs to know. Only then can he fully drag you down to the bottom of despair with him after all. You need to tell him a bit more about your past. Your family. Your friends. He needs them for his plans. Imagine his surprise when he sees the relief appearing on his face.

🕊️​That grin on his face disappears as he realises the truth, even if only for a short moment. It isn't the fact that you are from a different world, it isn't that you died in your previous world either that sobers him down for one or two seconds. It is the realisation that you will always be freer than he will be. There are no family, no friends, no pets he could use to play with and to break you with. There is no information he can obtain about you unless you tell him yet here you are, knowing already so much about him since he was a fictional character in your old world. Half of your wings he will never be able to clip off. For one frightening moment his hands suddenly wrap around your neck and start squeezing down with enough force to have you gasping and choking before all of a sudden he lets go, leaving you to cough for air. When he bends down he has put on that playful appearance once more, whispering to you that it's still too early for you to die. He must say, you managed to catch him off guard for a moment there but that's alright. If things are more difficult there are more entertaining after all. He will make sure to plug every single feather off of your wings until you're just as broken as him.

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! I’m working on an original character project that I want to include a lot of casual representation in (“casual” meaning that the characters don’t need a justification for being disabled/fat/POC/etc, they just are because people can and do exist that way in reality!)

I was wondering if you had any suggestions for finding resources for drawing facial differences(and maybe other visible disabilities), especially in a cartoony style. I’ve looked through the Facial Equality Week tag but would like to see more examples, and since my art is so… goofy, for lack of a better word, I would love any help I can get in integrating differences without being offensive or upsetting.

Sorry if this is a bother, and thank you for all that you do!

Hey!

I'm not aware of any guides for drawing facial differences specifically (or at least, good ones. There's 1 billion tutorials telling you that scars are just a Singular Line, always, but that's not... correct), but perhaps someone in the notes could help out?

For my own advice, you could check out this old post I made. Because you mentioned your art being cartoony, I would specifically urge you to not overexaggerate facial differences the way they often are. A prime example would be how a lot of cartoons portray strabismus;

It's just a funny gag to them rather than, IDK, how some of us look like. Not to mention that one of these is also a mockery of intellectually/developmentally disabled people with "Derp" in the name, but that's beside the point here.

It's the whole "the character is crazy/stupid/wild/whatever and that's why they have it" that's the problem with how it's often shown. You can also see it in how characters who don't even normally have it will be shown with it for a scene where they're saying something nonsensical, etc.

Another example that's nowhere near as rampant is the split-face thing with various facial differences being used. Mostly vitiligo but sometimes also facial palsy. I'm talking about this weirdly perfectly halved face that looks extremely different on each side, often used to imply that a character is two-faced but mostly just signals that the author doesn't know how vitiligo looks like.

[note: vitiligo also shows up on lighter skin. I wanted to make sure it's visible here for tutorial clarity purposes.]

This one is just weird because it straight up doesn't look like that. I have no idea where it came from, but it should go back there. Facial palsy doesn't make someone look like the antique comedy/tragedy theater mask.

Unless I'm forgetting some other annoying cartoon trope, these would be the big ones that you should stay away from.

Outside of that, it's really on a case by case basis on how a specific FD should be drawn because they're so different. A birthmark can just be a differently colored patch of skin, but a craniofacial difference would require some more changes to be included. Alopecia is well, lack of hair, and can be done very easily but ectrodactyly can be more complicated to show properly because of the limitations of a cartoony artstyle when it comes to hands. And while I do think it would be great to see more of those facial differences that tend to not be included in art at all, there's nothing wrong with deciding to go for the things you can represent more faithfully, especially if you're just starting.

I will say that if you're making an honest attempt at being respectful and trying to get it right, most of us will still be excited to see your work. Even if it's not perfect or has some inaccuracies. I will take a "'yeah more or less' correct with a happy, human character" over a "Very Technically correct but tagged as #tw burns and with blood splattered on them" any day.

Lastly, I wanted to share some art featuring characters with facial differences (and other visible disabilities) that are done in a cartoony, or at least somewhat simplistic artstyles (I'm using both terms very widely here) - maybe it will give you some ideas.

Man with Treacher Collins syndrome (also one of the first pieces online where I saw a character with an FD portrayed in such a lovely way. A fav of mine.) Girl with Pfeiffer syndrome Too many characters to count Woman with burns Woman with a limb difference Multiple characters again Animation featuring people with Down syndrome [youtube] Multiple characters, including a girl with neurofibromatosis, a burn survivor, a girl with a cleft lip and another with TCS [twitter]

If you have a more specific art question ("how do I draw a person with XYZ facial difference?") you can send me an ask on @saszor. I prefer to stick to the writing theme on this blog but would still like to help if you need it.

Hope this helps,

mod Sasza

Edit: apologies for the lack of alt text on one of the images, it has been fixed.