#The habit makes the monk

[osiiiris]

I love that Ghost has shifted all the attention to the aesthetics of clothing. 

In a world where pop stars focus almost entirely on nudity, ignoring the importance of clothing and how it plays a fundamental role in the game of desire, Ghost, both Papas and Ghouls, have been perfect in not underestimating the value of clothing, but rather in bringing it back to the spotlight.

The history of fashion is rich with examples of how clothing has been a source of literary inspiration, an object of desire and fetish, and a protagonist in cultural and aesthetic changes.

Leather gloves, intricate vestments, cravats, boots... they may seem like simple accessories, but they are, in fact, tools of seduction and personality manifestation.

With them, I feel as though we are returning to the European aesthetics of the 19th century, to the cult of beauty and elegance, as if having just stepped out of Leopardi's 'Dialogue Between Fashion and Death.'

I love the vanitas, the drama, the sophistication, the opulence of it all.

[sovawife]

Listen we have Ven M Baker right here. Pspspspsps here he is

NEWJAGLEWKAGMALWEKG EPWAGOEAW;LGKEWAOPG EWAKGPEWNEVMVMVFNV MVV NVVMVMVMVV VNVFMEV,MVF,FVE,VM,SMV,M,SVM,VSDFK ATITE PLEWA EOKGEWAKGEWAMLM EAWMVNFFVKVFMVMKVHSUSBUAFUSDAUKISKISKISKISKISKSISKISISKISIKISSISKIS

[inupibaldspot]

From you, For him

| Part 2 of At him, For him

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : Normal like no curse and stuff AU where Gojo is in love with Geto’s lover but this time he has the chance to change everything. This contains time travel!

I wrote it in a way you can understand what’s happening even if your don’t read part 1 btw

·:*¨༺ Part 1 ༻¨*:·

Gojo Satoru feels as if he can’t breathe.

He inhales. His chest hurts and he has a horrible attempt at keeping his glazing eyes in check as he fakes a smile and claps his hands together; there was a blur silhouette of Geto and you in a distance in tears ,both wearing matching rings.

“Woah—! Congratulations you two.” Shoko smiles wildly as she brings her hands close to her mouth,cheering. She briefly turns to Gojo and looks back at the couple. “Keep it together,Gojo… you’ve done that for years so why bother showing it now.”

Gojo lets out a laugh. “How cruel…” of course Shoko knows he has had this unrequited love for years. He breathes out. “I’ll head out for a second.”

Shoko nods as she reaches out and puts a cigarette and lighter in his pocket. He mutters a ‘thanks’ as he opens the door, cold breeze immediately greeting him. He breaths in again as his hands search for warmth in his pockets, turning to the alleyway.

Once when he is secluded, he brings out the piece of cigarette Shoko handed him earlier as he places it in between his lips, his hands bringing up the lighter with one on the lighter as the other hand wraps to protect the small flame.

He did not smoke often—more like he didn’t even the last last time he did. Gojo sucks in a breath, his throat feels hot but his chest is lighter, no-he remembers smoking back in high school simply because of Shoko and Geto. His only two friends would leave him for smoke breaks and he didn’t want to be left alone so he simply picked up the habit. 

Gojo quit after he met you since he didn’t feel the need to tag along Geto and Shoko anymore.

Somewhere in between college,meeting you and now, he didn’t seem to care anymore.

“Hey kid.”

“Fuck!” Gojo jumps, his teeth biting into the cigarette as his eyes glare sharply in the direction of the sound. A man sits along the far end of the alley way, away from him.

The white haired man contains his jumped heartbeat as he walks over the man who called him over. His eyes trail the dress he wore; it was a traditional dark piece of clothing and beads around his hand. This man was cosplaying as a Priest. 

He didn’t say the word ‘cosplay’ lightly because first, to begin with, the man in front had a ‘magic ball’ in front of him as if he was waiting for people to share their future and second, he wasn’t too serious because boy—! That monk had thick hair on his head, not the shaven look you’d normally see.

Gojo met scammers; near the shopping center, outside popular restaurant and tourist attractions, by his house ringing on his doorbell and right now, infront of him.

“What‘cha gonna tell me,old man.” Gojo says as he peers in, with also taking in a puff of smoke. “That I’ll be having a wife and two kids in my 30s… If it’s not that, it means one of you is lying.” By ‘one of you‘ refers to the scammer-I mean fortune teller he let in his house because he was bored. 

“Hahaha-! That’s not it.” The man laughs as he faces Gojo directly, it was then when he finally notices a stitch mark which stretches across his forehead. “Just wondering if you’d ever regretted things… ‘things’ which you wished you could go back and change..”

Gojo laughs as he drops the half-piece of cigarette on the ground, stomping on it. No long interested. “Of course. I still wish I could go back in time and not erase my answers because my teacher made all the answers to the MCQ ‘c’ just when I didn’t study.” 

Fuck—just why did Yaga REALLY do that? Gojo thinks back at the thought.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Gojo turns when he hears the man speak. 

The man stands close—very close to him as his hands were making a V-sign (a peace sign) , fingers pointed near his eyes before the old man was stabbed into his eyes.

“Oh my god— shit! That hurt, old man.” Gojo places his hands on his eyes as he tries to soothe the pain from it. “What are you trying to do—huh…?”

He blinks once.

Twice.

He takes a deep breath. ‘It’s fine.’ He thinks to himself. ‘I’ve just lost my mind a tiny bit because y/n and Suguru are getting married.’

Gojo let out the breath and opened his eyes. Same scene. He was by a tree, near a building; he remembered this place being behind the building for the Class 1-3 who were studying the normal curriculum whereas advanced classes of class 4-5 students were in another building. 

“What the actual heck is happening?” Gojo grumbles as he looks at the calendar on his phone. He was back in high school. He was sent back in time by about 7 years. “Fuck… I guess that man wasn’t a quack….”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“That’s why I need you to help.” You wiggled your toes in your shoes as you stand, smiling. The teacher,Yaga Masamichi, was in front of you, sitting on his chair as he continued to talk- maybe complain would be a better word- about a certain boy from the advanced class. “The boy is smart but he lacks discipline! He needs someone as hardworking as you and maybe it’ll rub on to him.”

You’ve heard of Gojo Satoru. You’ve never seen him but he was very infamous in high school . First, for being the son of the Gojo Estate. Two, for being a very tall, conventionally attractive boy. Third, for being a delinquent. 

And that last part bothers you a lot, you’ve heard him get into fights, rumors of him smoking along the alleyway, ripping love letters into pieces and recently he skipped over all his tests making him fail his mid-terms. 

You gulp. Hope he doesn’t beat you up… 

Just then the door to the staff room slides open. You see enter, he was tall with white hair and lashes and the eyes in the most beautiful shade. No way this was Gojo right? He was so— beautiful.

Did he just make eye contact with you?

“Gojo come here.” Yaga calls out as he huffs. Gojo clears his throat as he walks to the teacher. When he was close enough Yaga continued. “This is y/n and I’m assigned to be your teacher. She’ll make sure you get all your works done plus make you study for the reassessment for the exam you skipped on.”

You watch Gojo who was towering beside you raise his hands and brought it up to his face, but from the angle you see the upward turn on the corner of his lips. Why was he smiling?

“Isn’t this -he points at you- from the normal department?” You huff when you were referred to as ‘this’. “You sure she is smart?”

“Don’t mess with y/n just because she isn’t from the advanced class— And also! In the last exam she was placed third overall , right below Suguru.” Yaga shouted back.

Your eyes trail back to him when the boy beside you seemed to still, You’ve heard of Geto Suguru too. Apparently a boy from the advanced class who was also popular for his good looks. But not only that— he had a delicate aura around him which makes people like him and to add on he was very much academically smart.

Gojo lets out a breath, as if it were more of an amazement in your opinion. You watch him take a small step back as he turns around and gives you a smile, god was unfair when he crafted this smile. “Then please take care of me, my tutor.” His face was close to yours.

‘My.’ You face almost burst with heat.

“Gojo stop bothering y/n.”

“Ouch—! That hurt sensei.”

Ever since then, once you hear the bell ring indicating school was over for the day, there would be Gojo poking his head into your class with a boyish grin plastered on his face, he takes your book-filled bag, slings it over his shoulder as you guys would walk to the library.

He sometimes passes by your classroom which is in the opposite building whenever he wants to go to the restroom in between classes—I mean he never did specify which restroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

And when he does, his gaze flickered towards you, taking in the way your gaze reflected the warm sun from outside.It becomes clear to Gojo then that even now, despite everything—in between ever but of confusion, anger and guilt, he doesn't actually want to lose you. To his best friend. To anyone else.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Warm.

The way the curtains fluttered from the gentle wind, letting in a cool breeze and a glow of the evening sun and you. You sitting not even an arm's length away and just like the pace of his heart which picked up, pushing every worry he could still have further and further away because there was no space for those in that moment.

There was just you. And he could feel your presence a lot closer now, her warmth not far away from him.

God, you were beautiful.

So beautiful, he would not mind spending the rest of his life memorizing each feature belonging of yours.

“Stop staring at me.” You let down the pen you were holding, looking away from your homework.

“I can’t stop.” He admitted.

You huff, the smirk on Gojo widened as he could see a faint color rush to your cheeks. “Just do your work…” you wave him off as you grumble.

“I’m already done,love.” He continues his teasing.

You pink as you let out a small shriek at the nickname; you rush close to him as you cover your hands on his mouth. “Shut up—Gojo, I don’t want to be murdered by your fangirls because of this.”

He pecks your hands by pursing his lips forward, into the palm of your hands making you shriek once more pulling away.

“Gojo!” You glare at him as you reach your hands out and comically wipe your hands on his blazer as he laughs at your reaction. He leans forward as he looks at your books. “What’s this?” He asks.

“Ah…” you say as you bring out a book closer to him. “I’m studying for my entrance exam for this university.”

“Already?” But that’s like months away.

“Yeah.” Your voice is laced with a smile, gojo almost sees shining glitters surrounding you. “It’s like… kind of my dream as a kid to go here.”

Gojo laughs at how adorable you sounded. “Why that university though?”

“My parents-“ you turn almost too quickly to face him but then you stop yourself as you clear your throat. “My parents went there and that’s how they met and fell in love.”

“Ah…” Just like you and Geto… His heart pains again as he is reminded.

You bend down as you lean your head on the table, letting out a sigh with your hands on your sides. “I hope I get in though…”

“You will.” He says confidently. He knows you will. “Nerds like you will get in.”

“Gojo, I’m not a nerd.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

“I’m not princess either!”

“Sure thing, love.”

“Oh— Gojo,stop that!”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“I need you to be serious, Satoru!”

He listens to you shout, even without turning to your direction he could basically sense you ‘huffing and puffing’, a habit you took till adulthood. He reaches out into the bushes, pushing the leaves away. “I am—! Sheesh, let me breathe.” Gojo laughs.

You two were currently near the patch of grass by the football ground; you had lost your key to the music club room—a room which was basically unused but you guys needed a room so you two can continue on with your study lessons. 

You bend to look over the bushes while Gojo does around the bushes checking every shrub. “Oh lucky— someone’s cigarette and lighter is hidden  here.” His smile widens as he reaches out for the gift, someone had kept here. “Satoru, don’t steal others' stash.” He puts it down upon hearing your words.

“So this where you go after classes,Satoru?”

He knew it was inevitable but he hoped he could extend it for as long as he could.

In front of him, holding a key was Geto Suguru, smiling at him with Shoko, a lollipop in her mouth peers over from beside him. “What you doing?”

Geto throws him the key at him which is catches instantly.He wanted the two of his friends meet you but he selfishly hoped it would be after like maybe, after you and Gojo date. Wow—what an optimistic! Gojo gulps, afterall what would he do if the two of you fall in love again? 

“You found it!” You jump, unaware that the two figures were his friends. You turn your head to look at him, at him. Despite Geto Suguru standing near you, you looked at Gojo. The white haired boy’s heart pulsed, the slow and steady pump now erratic and heavy with emotions. Just you looking at him with a smile, at him like he was the only one on the planet m. For the first time.

“Who is this?” Shoko says as walks to to the bush and sticks her hands in. You laugh. “That cigarette was yours?” Shoko nods.

“This… this is y/n.” Gojo grumbles, speaking low. “She is helping me with my reassessment.”

“That’s what you get for skipping assignments and test.” Shoko teases. 

Geto laughs.

Gojo eyes at your reaction and sighs in relief when you were still acting the same. Thank god, there was nothing of that ‘love at first sight’ going on. “I don’t need to take those test.Even Yaga knows I’m smart.”

Your roll your eyes. “I guess we won’t have those study sessions of now on, Gojo.”

“Wha— no! I need it.” Gojo jumps, as he comically starts shaking you, as if he got the most shocking news of the century. “No- nope! You can’t do that. I need you—!”

“Geto, let’s get going now.” She turns. Shoko looks over to Gojo, they make eye contact and the brown hair girl smiles. 

He knows that smile. 

That’s the smile Shoko gives when ever she figures out something. And equipped with a teasing look, Gojo is certain she knows that he is in love with you. “Good luck,Gojo.” With his studies or with you? Geto gives you guys a wave as he also turns around and walks way. 

From then onwards, it’s as if the friendship which you guys have in the future,college days were happening now. Hanging out, study sessions, sometimes sneaking into parties and café date; the four of you. Just like right now as you’re in Gojo’s room, a flat rented nearby your future college.

“No way.” Shoko starts. “We’re all going to be attending the same college.” Her smile widens when you cheer and jump into her arms, she quickly looks over and sees a fond smile on Gojo’s face…hilarious!

Geto laughs as he takes a sip on his coffee as the two girls snuggle closer to each other. “Did you know about this?” He peers over to Gojo who finally seemed broken from his trance—you.

Gojo nods. “Yeah… I mean I’ve seen her study for her exams.” He clears his throat. “Have you played the new ‘digimon’ game?” He changes topic, whenever Geto speaks of you or to you, it makes him feel small. This isn’t good. He relishes this yet it was suffocation. Gojo would never hate his best friend—never, but sometimes it’s insecurity and sometimes it’s guilt which swallows him whole. ‘Is this okay?’ 

Shoko breaks away from the hug and she pulls on your cheeks fondly, she thinks you’re the most adorable human as she turns to Geto. “Smoke break.” Geto smiles and nods, following behind Shoko who led the way.

Gojo turns to you, eyes carefully trying to take in your presence that is before he notices something—your eyes are ‘lingering.’ He follows your gaze, carefully in the direction.

You were looking at Geto.

All emotions are wiped from his face. Gojo knew this could happen, you can fall in love with Geto all over again. He was the one who was messing with fate and time, yet— it hurt.

You turn to Gojo, your face tilts up to meet his gaze as your lips turn into a teasing smile which quickly flatters when you see Gojo’s expression. Your heart settles and softens, you relax and reach over the table to grab one of his hands. “…Satoru?”

He turns to you, and smiles. “Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“No…just thinking.”

You gulp wondering why it felt as if suddenly there was a huge rift when they were barely centimeters apart; for someone as big as Gojo his voice was so—so small. “…About?” You were almost scared to ask.

“Are you in love with Suguru?” Gojo beats himself for this, he has gone and done it now! 

You tilt your head. “where did that come from?”

“Friends don’t give each other love-filled lingering looks.” He scoffs. “So tell me-“ no he was being pushy. Gojo felt so backed into a corner for a moment but when he locked eyes with you, he was hurting you with the way he was acting.

He stands up. “I think I need some fresh air.”

“If I did love him, what would you do?” 

Were you testing him? 

“Please—please don’t fall for anyone but me…” he mumbles.

You watch as he slumps down on the floor, on his knees, burying his face into his hands, curling up almost as if to protect himself. Gojo is no longer confident egoistic boy you know, right now he seemed so weak; as if he was tired after a long journey. “I have surrendered myself to you for all of time; past, present and future I am yours…”

Your head is dizzy with all this information. You need time, you need clarity. Gojo feels like he is losing himself in his thoughts and also rambles with no coherence to what his mind has to say. “I don’t know what do do with this emotion but if I try to stop them they overflow and-” 

His heart seemed to thud to a stop in his chest and then start up again erratically, hands seemed to be incapable of doing anything other than hang close by his sides.

“Satoru, I love you…” you whisper and it is only then when he realizes you were also on your knees in front of him, thumbs wiping tears from his cheeks. “I’m sorry for joking— I don’t love Geto. It’s you I love. Don’t hate me?”

How can he hate you when you were still his everything: you were his everything even when you were intertwining hands with someone else?

“It’s me?” He breathes out. “Did you say you’re in love with me?” 

You nod.

“Oh wow.” He says which makes you laugh.

“I love you…” He says, years of these words inside the depth of his heart, was dug out. “From the bottom of my soul, I’m head over heels for you, my love.”

You almost cry at his tone, so gentle.

He caresses your hair, tenderly, running his fingers through the soft, silky strands. When he eventually has his hands on your cheeks; your cheeks flushing as he gazes at you, captivated by your presence. Your eyes sparkle with wonder, your lips plush and rosy. 

You are flawless, perfect in this moment and beautiful in his embrace.

Gojo didn’t even realize when he started to get so close to you. His lips pressed against her pulse in a kiss before he nipped the skin.His limbs burned where he touched you, you were warm. So it was cold after all, he realized somewhere along the line. His hands were freezing, clinging to your lower back. 

Gojo wants to stay like this, holding you for a minute longer or forever.

A whisper in his head was telling him to let go—that it wasn’t right, but Gojo wouldn't. He was hanging onto a life line, it hurt, but if he let go now, he would drown.

Gojo was vulnerable. And you kiss him back. Kiss him till he is fine. Kiss him until all his worries fly— till he understands, you are equally so stupidly in love with him. 

Unbeknownst to you two, Shoko peeks over inside the door, a small crack reveals what’s inside “You think they’re done?”

Geto laughs. “Of course not…but give them more time and they’ll be in bed.”

Shoko laughs lightly making sure she isn’t spotted yet as she then peers over to the taller boy beside her. “What about you? You good?”

“Yeah… it was just a crush.”  Geto looked at Shoko from the corner of his eyes and his lips curl into a smile. Shoko was always so observant. 

Taglist ˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆｡—I tagged people who voted for time travel! Hope you guys don’t mind: @uuu55r64z46 @leviswifey-act62 @royaleashlyn @bakananya @bejwls @ritsatoru@washeduphasbeen @satorus-babygirl

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[amerricanartwork]

A quick little general slugcat headcanon (featuring a not-so quick drawing to go with it)!

Slugpups have a habit of riding on their parents' tails, kinda like how human kids sometimes cling to their parents' legs! However, for slugcats it's not just for fun, but actually a somewhat instinctive behavior that provides some utility in allowing the parents to carry their kids around more easily when they're small and can't keep up as well on their own. Since slugcats naturally drag their tails — the tail's inherent thickness and large fat stores make it too heavy to lift off the ground all the time — it doesn't really hurt or hinder the parents' movement much, and so is generally pretty efficient when traveling with pups, especially for couples with larger or multiple litters to care for.

Besides that, young slugpups may ride on their parents' backs (usually with the parent walking on all fours in this case), sitting on their shoulders, or just straight-up being carried in their arms, though the final is generally the most difficult option. Once they're big enough they usually walk beside, holding one parent's hand until they're trusted to not stray too far.

Honestly this whole headcanon is pretty much just an extension of this from Survivor/Monk intro:

[lazyalani]

| Blue Lock

| When they like you

| fluffffffffff, fluffiness, just random thoughts and ideas

Ft. Rin, Sae, Nagi, Reo, Chigiri, Barou, Kunigami, Bachira, Isagi

| Blue Lock Masterlist

| Main Masterlist

RIN

Definitely tolerates you more than anyone else. This man has a patience of a lady in her worst mood during period. Let's say you aren't the best in english as most japanese are, or even as worse as bachira, he'd take time to actually try to teach you rather than wait for you to try and pronounce words that would make his ear irk. He'd even share his twin popsicles with you. And maybe, just maybe, he'd watch you fall asleep on your desk.

SAE

He'd buy you nice souvenirs from his trips. He's definitely the type to stare at one thing he passes by and thinks oh, this reminds me of them, and then proceeds to by it and gift it. He'd pass it out casual though. I don't think Sae is the type to get all flustered and overthink when he has a crush, I think he'd be chill about it. He's like, oh, i kinda like them, cool. He's the type to show it so casually you wouldn't even realize he likes you, and until he's decided to ask you out or you found out, he'd keep it that way.

NAGI

Man, I don't know. This guy's a slug and freaking dense. He wouldn't even know he likes you, and even he did he'd treat you no different than a friend. Okay, maybe a little bit more, but Nagi is the type to be effortless with everything except football. If he likes you enough, then I think he'd actually put in a little more effort into talking to you or staying awake while you talk his ears out in class. But if it's just a little admiration then there's no difference from that to being his friend.

REO

Ah, definitely talks yours ears out every damn second. Don't expect seeing him without a gift for you. He spoils you a lot. Treats you like his significant other even before he asks you out, which is not far off because obviously he can never hide what he's feeling. Everyone can see he likes you, even you. He accompanies you almost everywhere, asks your favorite everything just to bring them to you the next day, texts you day and night. How dreamy.

CHIGIRI

Lets you make silly princess comment on his hair. He doesn't get annoyed, playfully bites back on your remarks. Indulges you in your rants about fashion, skin care, hair care, make up, routines and even adds things he uses or thinks might be good. He might awkward about liking you at first, but remains casual about it and doesn't mention or think about it often. It just comes naturally as if he's talking to a friend he's comfortable with.

BAROU

Man, this one's tough. Definitely indenial at first, he wouldn't even know what he's feeling. He's not stupid, but he's also not one to think he could actually like someone since he's definitely got high standards for himself and for other people. He'd shake off the feeling at first, might even tend to be harsher with you ay times, but gradually just accepts it but swears never to mention or bring it up. Becomes more attentive to your hygiene and habits. Avoids the topic of liking someone like a plague. Never ever asks you out. (Liked but never pursued heh)

KUNIGAMI

This one's the type to get flustered when he realizes it. Gets all shy around you at first and Chigiri definitely notices and points it out. Decides to listen to Chigiri's advice to just act normal and cool because he's being too obvious. Tries not to get flustered around you but everytime he sees you it reminds him of his realization. Is definitely more protective of you when other guys are around, especially with ones like Raichi and the bald monk I forgot the name of. Acts of service type of guy.

BACHIRA

Too perceptive for his own good, sees it coming. He doesn't care whether anyone notices or not. Not the type to be shy about anythin and that includes having a crush on you. Sticks to you like a leech and talks to you 10x more. Notices your little hobbies and tries to match then so you could have something in common. I just know he's the type to do these cute little things because he just wants to enjoy things with people he likes.

ISAGI

Ah the shy-est one. Dense, indenial at first, but the ever so nosy Bachira notices and makes him realize it. Will stutter around you and get a little fidgety but pays more attention to you than ever. Helps you with even the smallest tasks like carrying things or helping making a decision and giving advices. If it's in school, he'd even offer to walk you home but then get all flustered. The sweetest.

[i-suc-at-art]

DpxDc prompt #2

Full prompt from this idea

Tim and Danny are apart of an online RPG which is basically DND but anonymous and online. (it’s mainly for secret nerds who don’t have anyone irl to play with)

Danny plays as a changeling rogue who will often swipe things from players they don’t like

Tim plays a Variant Human, monk who wields a pole staff (my guy is not subtle) and will often give back the things danny (who’s known as wraith) (Tim goes by Scarlet Redpoll (mainly just Scarlet though)) stole

Rules of the RPG:

Everyone remains under their game handle (so there’s no doxing) NO REAL NAMES

You can interact with other parties who are using the same campaign as you, however when interacting with main story plot your party will go into its own private server

You can have a party of any size however it’s recommended to have a party over 4.. However you can make it with two or three or solo (but that’s just kinda sad..)

There is a chat feature and call feature in the game, however no hate speech, or bigotry

You can’t join a call unless your apart of the party

ofc this doesn’t stop it from happening but that’s not really relevant to the story

There are Dms (dungeon masters) but your team can also just use the computer for your Dm

Your character can be completely customized, and you’ll move around on a map

Ok now to the fun stuff

Danny and Tim (Wraith and Scarlet) have been playing together for about 3 months, and have made a commitment to play every 2 weeks on sunday (ghosts tend to take a break every 2 weeks on sundays (and B forced Tim to take a break from everything including cases every 2 weeks on sunday) Although sometimes each will get pulled away from the game and they’ll have to end early.

Anyways their campaign doesn’t super matter, only that they are online friends. Ok so one day Tim texts Wraith (they use online name bc y'know tim’s like uber famous) that he can’t make it to their session today bc his dad is forcing him to “bond” Aka he’s going to a gala with Bruce and Dick to stop a heist team that has been rampant across socialite and high society events. Wraith tells him it’s alright, and that coincidentally he’s busy too and was just about to cancel.

As Tim surveils everyone he curses Bruce for making him come. Tim had gotten into the habit of getting a night off from everything. He’d also not gotten a chance to do ample research on the guests beforehand because he’d been working on researching the thieves. He’d heard some chatter about the group looking into a possible haunted vahz, that was on display for the night. Tim had been surveying the party staying near the vahz making sure everyone checked out. Dick had texted saying that he’d cornered a possible thieving candidate and that he needed Tim to run an face ID check, on the picture he’d taken. The photo was of a young woman, her red hair caused Tim to think of Babs, but the woman’s simple teal evening dress couldn’t be further from her style. He’d done a quick search of the woman, she seemed to be some sort of rich young socialite, definitely Dicks type.. Her name was Kelly Jankins, no criminal history, or past arrests, she had a couple of parking tickets that were waved from her late teens. But nothing out of the ordinary. Tim texted Dick the information (save for the part about her being Dicks type) before stuffing his phone back into his pocket and moving from his post to go and get a drink. About 20 feet from his post he bumped into a nicely dressed guy, his hair black and suit tailored.. He also wore a Vladco pin on his left breast pocket.

He’d apologized and Tim told him it was no big deal, his eyes were blue.. But he could have sworn they were green when he first looked up. And his voice.. It sounded so familiar. Why did it sound familiar..?

As Tim walked away it hit him like a truck.. Wraith.

—————

Danny, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz had been stealing for some time now, after Danny had been outed as Phantom to the whole town by his parents. Him, Sam, and Tucker had decided to all leave Amity since all of their parents were unaccepting.. Sam’s parents had gone so far as to write her out of their will.. Danny had told her and Tuck to stay in Amity and fix their relationships with their family, but they’d both said ‘that if Danny wasn’t in Amity Park then they didn’t have their family.’ So they left. The three stayed with Jazz for a bit but she was a broke college student that barely had enough money for food and rent. So the three started stealing food.. It was out of necessity at first, and only from big companies, but when Sam got an online invitation to a big gala that was showing off some old artifacts from a rich guy’s private collection, Danny felt a pull toward a particular item from his core. The item belonged to someone in the ghost zone.. and he needed to have it. He needed to return it.

So they stole it. Danny was to be Sam’s plus one as he’s basically a haunted item metal detector. Sam would steal the item and Tuck would turn out the lights and secretly system. Then Danny would get him and Sam out of there. Most of their plans would be similar to this format. Sam would also grift from the other patrons, only stealing from the ones who seemed to have a shit ton of money. Eventually even teaching Danny how to do it too, she’d told him that ‘using his ghost powers were a cop out��� when he brought that up.. and that ‘anyone would be able to feel the chill of it.’ Which Danny was sure that that was untrue.. But he learned how to steal a wallet, or a phone Sam’s way.

Jazz had been against the thefts at first saying that all of these items belonged to the original owner. But soon she was persuaded when Danny told her that they were stealing stolen items. Stolen ghost items. Some of the items even had a ghost core attached to it. So Jazz became their planner, she’d make sure they’d have all the info they needed and that no one got caught.

Danny ends up in jail after being caught trying to lift someone’s wallet.. Jazz was there to legally get him out and pay the bail. Tucker got caught in a backroom of a place they were stealing from. ‘Oh yeah that’s her brother who would often get himself trapped in closets looking for the bathroom.. She apologizes profusely..’

So when Tucker had found their newest item, a haunted vase that had a shit ton of death and destruction attached to it, Jazz had thought up the plan. She’d heard whisperings that Vlad had gotten invited to the party but Danny was going to go in his place since Vlad would never go. Then they had a plan. A plan they were meant to stick to, until someone ran her face and Danny started being followed. So they abandoned the vase opting to get out of there instead of getting caught.

[sleepyc63]

its spearmaster time hell yeah baby

story under cut

Spearmaster is Seven Red Suns' only child. They don't have another parent, and were born through IVF. They are very close with Suns. They almost never use their full name unless in a formal situation, otherwise they go by Spears. They're also autistic, and they have a special interest in history, particularly pearls and broadcasts.

Spears had a happy childhood, surrounded by friends, their best friend being Hunter. They dated Artificer in high school, but severed all contact after a messy breakup. They keep in touch with their other friends though, such as Gourmand, Nightwatcher, Survivor and Monk. They've also taken notice of the new scugs in town, Saint and Rivulet (especially rivulet)(guess why). They're aware of their feelings for Rivulet, but are unsure of how to approach them, as their experiences with relationships in the past have left them very reluctant to try again.

Despite loving their parent to death, there is one thing causing conflict between them as of recent,, Suns' new boyfriend, Five Pebbles. They're begrudgingly supportive that their parent has found love,,, but damn do they hate the guy. No deep reason, their personalities just clash.

Besides their issues, Spears makes good money from their job as a mailscug. Not enough to move out and away from their fuckass step-dad, but they're getting there! Jokes aside, they don't plan on moving out of their childhood home anytime soon, and instead have their part time job to save up money for top surgery. They recently graduated from art school, and are building up a portfolio to become a freelance artist. They also sewed their own patches for their jacket, which show off all of their interests.

Balancing all of those hobbies and responsibilities takes a toll on their physical health however,, they've developed a bad habit of pulling all nighters and overworking themselves to exhaustion. Is this healthy? Absolutely not. Will they stop? Absolutely not. Hopefully someone can knock some sense into them before they work themselves to death.

---

@churrorat-art

Edit: added a paragraph I forgot in the initial post

[lifespectator]

Punk Nun

Power bottom nun!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The pretty nun named Wanda ended up with you…

Warnings: no specified gender but reader is AMAB, VERY little plot, mostly smut MINORS DNI, strong language, some angst Ig but hopeful ending.

A/N: I’m back and posting this to proof that visiting Santa Monica Pier at night changes a person lol anyways sorry if it isn’t the best but hope you enjoy it. Also, art not mine so credit to the original artist.

-

Who would have thought?

"I'm eager to see what's under that habit." You eyed up the horny nun as your wish to see her nude body grew more and more with each second, along with the need to touch her.

That pretty innocent-looking nun with short strawberry blonde hair that had crossed a few glances with you on the few times you did attend church would end up in your room—sitting on the edge of your bed, looking at you with lustful eyes.

It happened too fast. You heard a knock on your door, and Wanda stood there, perplexing you. When you thought she would read the Bible to you, she pushed past you with the excuse of wanting to talk to you like you had offered last time. Things went up from there, so you just chalked it up to 'fate.'

A low moan left the nun's mouth, seeing as you removed your black shirt, exposing your bare torso to her. She looked attentively at your body. Looks like your build was eye candy for her.

"I promise to let you touch." You said as Wanda shifted her attention to you. "But for now, you're in my house, so we'll do a ritual." With that, you walked out of the room. The words that had come out of your mouth had only elevated her sensation of need between her legs.

A sin? Yes. An unforgivable one for sure. She had made her vows to the church. But it wasn't her fault. Wanda never wanted to be part of that. Before, she was a typical teen with dreams and aspirations like many others. But one day, her parents told her they had chosen her life path. Why? Because they had some dream that Wanda would become a nexus being that would destroy everything. Pure nonsense, she always thought. Her biggest regret is that she never fought against her parents' decision.

It didn't matter anymore because she was with you now, and no one could stop her.

Wanda removed her loafers before you came back into the room. Carrying a bottle of red wine, you walked towards her and gently laid the bottle on the bed. She couldn't resist having you so close and lifted her hand and ran it over your abdomen. A low gasp left your mouth at her gentle touch.

"Couldn't stop yourself, huh?" You grabbed a part of the fabric of her habit. "Help me a bit." Wanda raised her arms, letting you gently pull it off her, exposing her beautiful body that was only covered by her black panties. Only Wanda's perky tits were exposed but adorned with a silver cross pendant that hung from a matching necklace. From her face down, she was worthy of being described as a goddess.

"The real sin is having you wear this, which doesn't allow me to see such beauty." You lusted, tossing the habit away, and instead reached for her soft breast, caressing them to feel their softness, making her breathing hitched when you rubbed your thumb on her perky tit. "I will have to include this in my thesis now." You teased, squeezing her breast.

"Oh, you're a priest now?" Wanda asked in a challenging tone, pushing your hands off her bust.

Cheeky. Despite not speaking much, Wanda announced she was not as innocent as she looked.

"I ain't no Martin Luther." You grinned, lightly pushing her against the bed and crawling on top of her. "But I'll gladly be your punk monk, my dear punk nun."

You planted your lips on hers as Wanda gave you access to her mouth. She reciprocated, deepening the kiss. Her tongue was swirling with yours. It was noticeable how it wasn't her first "steamy" makeout. How her hands ran from your hair to your back demonstrated how much she wanted this as much as you did. Her soft hands made her touch unique.

You parted your lips from hers and rested them on the tip of her ear.

"I'm going to begin my ritual." A low moan escaped Wanda's mouth, shivering at the feeling of your warm breath next to her ear.

You got off Wanda and kneeled beside her on the bed, grabbing the bottle of wine and opening it quickly. You offered her the bottle first, which she grabbed without hesitation. It was her favorite, after all. The nun took a deep sip of it and handed it back.

She laid back down at your instruction, letting you do as you pleased with her now. You ran your hand through her soft abdomen, preparing to give her the unexpected.

You lifted the wine bottle and tilted it towards her, pouring some of the wine on her belly button. Wanda jolted and let out a high-pitched hiss at the feeling of the cool liquid making contact with her skin.

"It's okay, beauty. You're okay." You comforted the nun. Her glare softened once she heard your words.

When the naughty nun was relaxed again, you lowered your head into her abdomen and sucked the wine that had stained her skin. Some breathy moans left her mouth as you sucked the red wine on her skin, especially at the sensitivity of her stomach. Groans left your mouth at the feeling of her warm skin. You sucked and even licked her skin until there was no trace of any liquid ever being there.

Your hand made contact with her black panties, making your cock twitch when you felt how drenched in her arousal fluids they were. The touch of your fingers on the cotton fabric that separates you from her entrance was enough to make her moan.

"Hurry the fuck up." Wanda cried when you teased her by rubbing your fingers on the fabric.

"What would your fellow sisters say with that vocabulary of yours?" You grabbed her panties from the waist and gently pulled them off her.

"I don't know. You're the one who is said not to worry about what other people say." Wanda raised her legs to assist you in removing her panties.

You passed your fingers on the top of her exposed entrance that was glistening with her wetness. Wanda mouthed a moan. "Nice to know that you do listen to me." You remarked.

Wanda moaned as you rubbed her entrance. "Fuck." She Let out when you started rubbing her clit followed by other curse words. Shaking her legs at the sensation. Her losing control gave you ideas. Without warning, you inserted two fingers into her entrance. Her sudden gasp turned into repeated moans when you started pumping your fingers into her fast. "Just like that." She begged, feeling you increase your pace. "Cum for me, nun." You groaned, feeling her walls tighten around your fingers, followed by a loud moan of hers and then the feeling of her warm fluids coming out of her pussy, getting all over your hand and staining the bed.

You brought your hand up to you and licked off her cum, savoring the taste.

You unbuckle your belt and slide off your jeans, accompanied by your boxers. Finally, let out your hardened cock, twitching at the thought of being inside Wanda.

"Show me how much you wanted this." You lay in the bed, inviting the sex-starved nun to get on top of you. She crawled on top of you, her legs on each side of your thighs. "I'll make you lose control." She smirked, looking down at you. Her confidence in her voice piqued your curiosity and even increased your need for her. "Show, not tell." You countered, also smirking and running your hand through her legs.

Letting out a low moan when you felt her soft hand grabbed your hardened cock and gave it a few slow strokes before aligning it with her entrance. She kept looking down, breathing out moans when she rubbed your tip with her slit and slowly took your whole length. "Ahh." Similar moans and some groans came out of your and Wanda's mouths as she felt your length go deeper while you felt her wet walls around your cock. You melted at the unknown energy she had. Almost as if it was another person.

You were left in a trance as you felt her soft, warm walls surrounding your cock that you overlooked when she bent down to whisper in your ear. "Let me know if you can't handle it." You weren't able to process her words once she started rocking back and forth on your cock at a slow pace to accustom to your size.

"You're a demon in disguise, huh?" You groaned at her sensual actions. Wanda placed her hands on your chest. "Let's find out." She started moving at a faster pace, waves of pleasure going through both your bodies. Wanda whimpered as she repeatedly sank into your cock. The view it gave you was mesmerizing as the way her breasts bounced, which impulsed you into grabbing them again. Kneading and teasing her perked nipples. "Keep going." She encouraged you in a breathy voice, inviting you to do more with her.

Wanting more of her body, your hands left her breast and, out of instinct, reached for her ass and held her with a tight grip stopping her movements.

"You might hurt me," Wanda teased in a raspy voice between breaths, coming to a stop and having an idea of what you were about to do. "Too late to back out now." You stretched her bum a bit before and, with no warning, pumped your cock as deeply as possible into her needy pussy. The noises of your hips hitting hers just right were barely audible as the repeated moans were louder. You continued until another sexy idea popped into your mind.

Out of nowhere, you turned her over and pinned her down on the bed without pulling out of the pretty nun. She yelped at the sudden action and breathed a bit to regain herself. Your eyes locked with hers; she was panting, sweat rolling down her face. Despite your initial thought, she wasn't amused. "You love being deep inside me." She muttered, making you lose any sense of control you had left in you.

You began moving your hips, pushing your cock deep in Wanda as much as you could at a pace that even made the bed creak. Wanda's hands gripped your biceps tightly as you started hitting the right spot. The sound of her moans and skin-to-skin contact pushed you to increase your pace; at the same time, her nails started digging into your skin; you were too lost in the pleasure even to notice it.

The good sensation of her walls clenching on you announced what was coming, so you didn't stop. You wanted to feel every last bit of her like she did of you. Wanda let out a high-pitched moan as you felt her warm juices fall on your cock, announcing her release of pleasure that you had helped build up. You stayed there on top of her, still hard, waiting for her to regain her breath. Needless to say that you were euphoric to release as well, which led you to pull out of her gently, and after giving yourself a few strokes, you reached your high as thick ropes of your cum landed just outside Wanda's entrance and her inner thighs. You Guessed this was the closest to getting to heaven as you can get.

"Fuck.. that was.. was great." Wanda panted, looking up to see you trying to smile while you regained your breath, then gently moved off her to lay beside her. You would follow up on what she said, but she stood up and went to the bathroom. "You alright?" You asked, concerned that you might have hurt her with your roughness. But again, no response from her.

You got up and followed her into the bathroom after sliding on your boxers, where Wanda had gotten one of your towels to clean herself up. You stood there waiting for her to acknowledge you, but she did not react as if you weren't there. You sighed before taking the initiative to break the uncomfortable silence. "Hey." You spoke almost like a middle schooler talking with their crush for the first time.

The nun stopped her actions, looking down after finally acknowledging you. Wanda sighed and looked back up at the mirror in front. "It's just," She gritted her teeth. "Fuck," She muttered, letting the towel hit the floor. "I have to return to my boring life as a nun." Her words expressed impotence and frustration.

You stayed quiet, imagining Wanda's daily torment of being somewhere she didn't want. A literal place that can be a dream killer. Well, you didn't have to. Living in the same old boring town took away your will to live mentally. But it was nothing compared to what Wanda has been through.

"Maybe you don't have to, Wanda," You picked up the towel and put it around Wanda's shoulder to cover her. Your words made her look at you with curiosity and perhaps a bit of hope, which she needed at this time. "Why don't we leave this shitty place together?" You offered, as shock and confusion plastered on her face.

"What do you mean?" She asked, still trying to understand what you had said.

"Fuck whatever we have here. Let's leave somewhere else where we can be ourselves and leave all this behind." You said as you realized what some of her concerns could be. Also, the fact that you barely knew each other. "There is no easy way to explain, but just think about it."

Wanda said nothing but was attentive to your words. She said nothing at first, but the smile that started to creep on her face was enough to confirm that she had already made her decision, and it would be one that would change something for both.

[boytumms]

Hey guys! This is a little collab I did with @let-me-fill-you, they've sent me many wonderful prompts in the past and I liked one so much I asked them to expand one so I could draw something for it!

Although it is a fine summer's day, you are cold, beneath the earth. For several minutes, you have followed the abbot into the bowels of the monastery, far deeper than you believed, deeper even than the catacombs. Thankfully, it hasn't been a single spiralling staircase all the way down, or else your head might've twisted off from sheer dizziness. But there is a growing pit of unease in your stomach. Where is the abbot leading you? And why now, immediately after you took your vows? Every time you think to ask, the words catch in your throat or the abbot speaks first, "This way." You are grateful for his guidance, at least. It's a maze down here - and the architecture has taken a turn for the unfamiliar, making the darkness all the more unnerving. Could it be that the monastery was built atop an older structure? The order is old, dating back centuries. You haven't the slightest notion of what might've come before. But you have a growing suspicion you're about to find out.

Soon, you see light ahead, stronger than the lantern borne by the abbot. You see a barred door, flanked by two members of your order... but they're not dressed in the monastic habit. Instead, they are clad in fine armor, made of what appears to be... silver? It gleams in the fire-light, lustrous and covered in filigree. No, not filigree, you realize as you draw closer. Runes. Protective spells. Your eyes drift from one's cuirass to his belt, and what you see isn't a cudgel - as expected of simple monks - but a blade, slender and deadly. Your blood chills, on the verge of becoming ice. You look to the abbot in trepidation.

The abbot's expression is grave. "Now that you are one of us, bound by oath, it is time you learned the truth of our order - our shame, and our obligation." He beckons you closer to the door - a great, heavy door, barred not once but twice. You hesitate to move from your spot, but the abbot is patient (and insistent). As you step forth, you console yourself with the knowledge that a door like this is not easily opened, and you are not alone. You should be safe. Should be...

Once you're close enough, the abbot slides open a slot for you to peer through, into darkness - but you hear it before you see it, whatever it is. You hear... moaning? It's dull and low, but clearly in pain. It's enough to raise your hairs; you feel the urge to pull away before something lunges out of the darkness, but you also feel the abbot's gaze boring into your skull, locking you in place. So you continue to stare into the darkness, until your eyes adjust.

And what you see is... a boy? Pale and thin as bone, his face veiled by a head of unkempt hair. You cannot tell if he's conscious, but his lips are open, from which the moaning emanates. He is chained to a rock, jutting out of the ground like a crooked tooth, kept halfway between standing and laying. His wrists, locked tightly within manacles bolted into the stone itself, are starkly red and raw from chafing. You imagine his ankles are similarly bound, but you cannot see them because, well... his stomach is in the way. You cannot believe your eyes. This isn't a gut swollen in hunger, but a sack of flesh, bloated like a fat mosquito, hanging from his skeletal frame all the way down to the rough stone floor, obscuring the entire lower half of his body. His belly, though it feels inappropriate to call it that (it doesn't look like an extension of himself, more like he is attached to it) is huge and ugly - shaped like a droplet from some great weight inside it, and wider than his shoulders, stretched perilously thin and marred with unflattering stretch marks and spider veins. Chains crisscross the gravid expanse, again not made of iron but hallowed silver - and wherever these hold tight, there seem to be burn marks.

Your stomach curdles. What could possibly necessitate this barbaric treatment? Then, as if in direct response to your thought, you see it - something huge and powerful, squirming and shifting within the boy's belly, pushing this way and that, recoiling from the silver, protruding in between the gaps. This isn't a silent affair - you hear the boy's skin creaking as it is stretched to its utmost, you hear sloshing (of amniotic fluid?), you hear sizzling as the tortured skin makes contact with the silver, and worst of all you hear a muffled growling of something vicious and hateful, and you hear the boy's moaning increase...

But it's cut off by the rasp of metal, as the slot is shut in front of your face, startling you. Refocusing on the abbot, you blink a few times, readjusting to the lantern light on this side of the door.

The abbot's expression has not changed, but did he always look so tired? Perhaps it is you who has changed, from the person you were just a minute ago, before you saw that. You look deep into his eyes for answers, a justification of any kind.

He tells you, with solemn cadence, "You must bury whatever sympathy you have for that boy. He contains Armageddon - a monster so terrible that, had it been allowed to enter our world, would have doomed us all. It is trapped in there, but we must remain vigilant. So long as he carries that monster, it will not allow him to age. And he must not die, or else that thing will be free to find another host, another womb to bear it. It may seem cruel to keep him like this, but remember your vows. You have a duty to your brothers and sisters, and the world beyond these walls. You must close your heart to his suffering. In the days to come - not today, or tomorrow, but soon - you'll be expected to feed him, to give him water. It's a heavy burden we share between us, so the onus does not break any one of us. And when that time comes, he will speak to you. He will cry, he will beg, he will howl and scream for the slightest of accommodations, a loosening of his shackles, anything to alleviate his pain, and you will know in your heart that his pleas are genuine. You must not listen to him. The devil does not speak through him - it has nothing to say to us - but it will use our better angels against us." The abbot places a heavy hand on your shoulder. "No one is deserving of that boy's fate. But he must suffer it all the same."

After that, the abbot leads you back to the surface, back into the warm light of day. But you remain cold.

[transtheology]

According to Matson, 39, his “disclosing,” as he describes it, is a moment years in the making. He offered his story as indicative of the often difficult path for trans Catholics, including those seeking life as a religious — a category that includes brothers and nuns.

“I am currently based in the Appalachian mountains of eastern Kentucky,” he wrote in an email to friends and supporters on Sunday. “I live in a hermitage at the top of a wooded hill, which I share with my German Shepherd rescue, Odie, and with the Blessed Sacrament, which was installed in my oratory shortly before Christmas.”

[...] Matson approached a canon lawyer to discuss his options and was told that only two aspects of Catholic life were categorically off the table: marriage and the priesthood. According to Matson, the canon lawyer recommended being upfront about his status as a transgender man in any vocational conversations with church leaders and mentioned the role of a diocesan hermit, which could prove less challenging than enlisting with an existing religious order.

[...] What followed was roughly a decade of searching and no small amount of rejection. Living in the United Kingdom while pursuing a master’s degree, and later a Ph.D. in theology, Matson entered a vocational discernment program and approached the Jesuit order to ask if he could join.

“They said, ‘No, we just don’t see how this would work for us,’ which was crushing, because that’s where I felt called,” Matson said.

[...] “I thought, well, if I can’t find a religious community to sponsor me, maybe what I need is a bishop,” Matson said.

A priest friend recommended different bishops to contact, beginning with Stowe, who was emerging as a leading voice among Catholics calling for a more tolerant approach to LGBTQ+ people. In 2020, Matson sent Stowe a letter, conveying his status as a transgender man, his vision for an artists’ community and his pull to religious life.

Stowe wrote back immediately, expressing his openness.

“It was an enormous relief,” Matson said. “I was in tears. I felt my hope revive.”

[...] Matson vented his frustrations to Stowe and his spiritual director, saying he wanted to speak out. But he said he was advised to first “build a foundation” in religious life for several years.

During that time, Matson had an experience that shook him. Attending a friend’s play in his religious habit, he was approached by a student who identified as trans and nonbinary. After asking if Matson was a monk, the student said they were raised Catholic, but that their parents had rejected their identity, and the student felt like they “don’t have a place in the church anymore.”

Matson responded by saying there were people in the church who would support the student, and Matson prayed with them, asking God to show the student how they are “wonderful the way you’ve made them.” The student, Matson said, grew emotional, thanking the hermit profusely and saying, “No one from the church has ever affirmed me for who I am.”

[...] As for ever leaving Catholicism itself, Matson bristled at the idea, calling the church “my family.” “I’m Catholic,” he said. “I became Catholic after I transitioned because of the Catholic understanding — the sacramental understanding — of the body, of creation, of the desirability of the visible unity of the church and primarily because of the Eucharist.”

At the very least, Matson said, he hopes going public will spark dialogue about his fellow transgender Catholics, a discussion he believes can enhance unity among the body of believers.

“You’ve got to deal with us, because God has called us into this church,” he said. “It’s not your church to kick us out of — this is God’s church, and God has called us and engrafted us into it.”

[tiredfox64]

Part 2 of hop to it?? But it’s nsfw- reader soon to go into heat and the signs are her being nervous and restless. Normally like the male rabbit will chase the female around and nuzzle, sniff, and lick her but what if female reader does that to Kung Lao instead- she’d also putting on some weight because her body is basically telling her she needs to get ready for babies.

Be a Buck to her Doe

Yip notes: I'm allergic to bunnies...nothing else that's just a fact.

Pairing: Kung Lao x Hybrid Bunny! Afab reader

Warnings: NSFW, breeding, creampies, overstimulation

Everyone knew what would happen. People know the habits of bunnies. There is a saying that goes “They breed like bunnies!” and that saying is true. That saying is especially true for a bunny girl like you.

Breeding habits combined with ovulation is a deadly combo. You are a deadly combo! Especially to Kung Lao. You’re gonna end that man in a pleasurable way.

Kung Lao has loved you since the day he met you. His love for you grew the moment you kissed his cheek. From that day on he adored you and gave you everything he could. He gave you bouquets almost every week. He put a lot of care into keeping your ears clear and your fur healthy. He cuddles you every night and makes sure to give you lots of kisses in the morning.

It’s no wonder you fell in love with him. Every woman needs a man who looks upon her with adoration and love. With a perfect man like that you would eventually want to push the limits of your relationship. Love and lust can go hand in hand. Lovemaking is a great addition to a relationship.

Even if you wanted to prevent yourself from getting all hot and bothered by him, Mother Nature had other plans in mind. It’s in your nature to wanna breed like crazy. Even if you were a regular girl, ovulation can be a driving force in your mind. Your body is yelling at you to make some babies and you are forced to listen to those voices. Kung Lao could tell.

The first sign he saw was your belly. It grew a little bigger. Not that Kung Lao minded a girl who had a tummy, he’s into that. But it came out of nowhere. One night he goes to sleep with you and the next morning you have a little belly.

Alright, so, maybe he could pass it off as you eating a lot recently. That’s not an issue. But he can’t ignore how clingy you have gotten. Getting you off of him just so he could train was hard. You were constantly on the move trying to look for him. You wanted to get a sniff of him after he trained for a bit. You don’t exactly know why but his scent is addicting. It’s a drug that gets your hormones raging. In the end, he was forced to train inside so that the monks could lock the door and keep you out. They’d hear you thumping outside before giving up and retreating back to Kung Lao’s room. Once he returned you’d act like nothing was the matter. You were embarrassed that you were in heat so you tried to push it back as far as you could.

Kung Lao got the idea when you started nuzzling him at night and licking him. The nuzzling is fine, but licking his neck is a risky move. He was struggling to hold himself back from doing anything to you. He wanted to be polite and wait for you to tell him up front, he didn’t want to make assumptions.

But this day, oh this day, you could not hold yourself back. It was the peak of your cycle. You didn’t try to get out of bed you wanted to hide under your sheets and hide the fact that you were incredibly horny. You worried Kung Lao by pulling away from his kisses but he had to get to training. All throughout the day he thought of you and was worried something was wrong. Meanwhile, you were thinking of him while taking all your clothes off.

You wanted to beg for him to come back and give you babies. You thought you could reduce the pressure you were feeling down there by masturbating but it did nothing. No matter how fast you rubbed your clit or how hard you pinched your nipple it did nothing for you. You needed Kung Lao to fuck you. Hopefully, you can survive until he comes back

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

During a break in the day when the sun was getting ready to set, Kung Lao decided to check up on you. He wanted to make sure you were alright and ask if he did something. Oh he sure did something to you.

He had a bunch of dandelions in his hands that he picked out for you. He knows you like to munch on them so he picked the longest ones he could find. He knocked on the bedroom door to let you know he was there.

“Hey bun, are you okay? I wanted to check on my special girl,” he began to open the door as he continued speaking, “You seemed off this morning so I wanted to-“

He stopped mid-sentence when he saw you. Your bunny ears were straight up and twitching. That meant you knew he was coming out yet you didn’t try to hide the mess you made. You looked over your shoulders to see him looking at you.

You were naked, how is he not gonna look at that? His eyes shifted to the wet spot that was on your side which suggested you were having fun with yourself for a while. When he looked up at your face he could see you munching the blankets in frustration. Your eyes showed desperation and pleaded with him to do something.

He’s not stupid he knows what you need.

“Kung Lao please…I can’t take it anymore…”

Before he could say anything you were already getting into position. Your face went down into the pillows while your ass was held up. Your little bunny tail was wagging to get Kung Lao’s attention even though that wasn’t necessary. You had his attention the moment he walked in. That’s when you heard him shut the door and lock it.

Kung Lao was drawn to you. He could see how desperate you were with how wet your pussy was. It was literally dripping wet. Screw the dandelions you can eat them later.

He was quick to take his clothes off. His cock sprang out from his pants like it was its destiny to breed you. He crawled onto the bed and positioned himself behind you. Your heart was racing at the thought that you’d finally feel relief.

“Are you sure you want-“ He stopped once you turned your head and glared at him for not continuing.

There is no reason Kung Lao should hesitate now. He pressed his tip near your entrance, gathering some of your wetness to use as lube. He was slow and gentle as he pushed himself in. Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you at the feeling of him entering you. This was your first time after all, he had to take this slowly. It wasn’t entirely painful but you felt a lot of pressure.

He gave you time to adjust to the feeling while he took a breather. He’s a goner. Kung Lao is screwed. You felt too good. Your pussy was so warm. It squeezed around him at random so it was a lovely surprise. His chest felt tight trying to hold himself back from thrusting into you before you were ready.

“I’m not hurting you, right bun?” He asked as his hands went to hold onto your love handles.

The response Kung Lao got back was your bunny tail wiggling a little before backed up into him. His cock went deeper in and he took that as a yes. Your bunny ears went back, showing that you were happy and relaxed. You felt relief that you didn’t have to struggle anymore. You let Kung Lao do what he had to do.

His breathing was heavy as he thrusted into you. His hands gripped your love handles tightly to keep you in place. He watched and listened to every reaction you gave. You tried to muffle your moans by doing it into the pillow beneath you but that made Kung Lao go rougher. He wanted to hear them loud and clear.

Don’t expect Kung Lao to be anything other than prideful and cocky. Each moan you let out boosted his ego so high his ancestors in heaven could see it…his ancestors should not be seeing this.

His eyes lowered to watch his cock slip in and out of your pussy. Every movement made a wet noise which made him twitch. He would pull back until it was only his tip left inside before slamming back into you. It was enough to make the headboard bang against the wall and make you gasp for air. You couldn’t see it but that smug son of a bitch had a smirk on his face whenever he got a reaction like that out of you.

But he had to remember he was there to satisfy you. You should be enjoying this lovemaking to its fullest. The lady should be the first to cum. It makes getting pregnant easier which is a lie but he would tell you that if you weren’t already fucked dumb.

His fingers gathered some of your wetness before circling your clit. You twitched and tried to close your legs. The pleasure was too much. Ovulation is there to help you get pregnant, yes, but it also helps you get into the mood. And when you’re in the mood, sex is better. So feeling Kung Lao’s fingers rubbing your clit was overkill in a good way. Forget trying to keep your legs closed because it doesn’t make a difference. His fingers will not slow down.

He could tell you were close. Your tail was twitching like crazy and your legs were shaking. He pulled back once again until it was only the tip before slamming into you. A wave of pleasure ripped through you when he hit your g-spot. He took care of that feeling you have been dealing with all day. No longer did you feel that tight feeling below that you couldn’t release. All you felt now was that pleasure and Kung Lao filling you with cum.

Kung Lao’s body pressed against your back as he caught his breath. He had a smile on his face. He was happy to make you cum and feel pleasure himself. It’s been a while since he has taken care of himself down there.

But…would that be enough to get you pregnant? Certainly not. A bunny girl like you needs more. More as in round two.

Kung Lao pulled out of you, taking a moment to watch his cum drip out of you. He rolled over to his side with his back pressed against the bed. You stayed staring at him for a second as you wondered if you should go in for another round. He seemed pretty tired, but not tired enough. If he’s not knocked out then he can go at it again. Make sure to ask permission though.

“I hope you feel better, pretty girl. You should have told me you were dealing with this I could have helped you a long time ago.” He said in a playful tone.

When he turned his head towards you, he saw that you were looking at his semi-hard cock. He thought you would have been fine now but your eyes still had a desperate look. You got on top of him and looked down at him with pleading eyes. He can hear you whispering “please” multiple times, waiting for a response from him.

Kung Lao has never gone for a second round. He has never had one round with a woman actually. You are the first. So he’s not too sure if that’s a good idea. But he can’t disappoint you. You’re his girl and he has to fulfill your needs. His pride doesn’t allow him to fail. He gave you a small nod before speaking.

“Alright, we can do that. Are you sure you’re not sore, I was going pretty ro—oh okay…”

The moment he nodded his head you already angled yourself before sliding down. There was a slight burning feeling when you went down that soon faded. Now with you in control, you could go as rough as you want.

Good luck, Kung Lao…

You started bouncing at a regular pace. You weren’t going painfully slow but you weren’t going too quickly that you wouldn’t feel pleasure. A squishy, sticky sound was heard whenever you slid down. His cum was leaking out of you and dribbling down his cock. No worries, there will be more in there by the end of this.

Kung Lao struggling in a good way. You’re just too pretty. He can’t take his eyes off of you. You looked too cute bouncing on top of him with your breasts jiggling a little with each movement. Your bunny ears were flopping which just added to the cuteness. Your moans were like music to his ears. If he had to be at the bottom to hear those moans so be it, he needs to hear them all the time.

Your looks and sounds weren’t the only thing killing him. Your pussy was driving him crazy. He was sensitive, that’s what happens when people cum. Your constant rhythm and lack of a break made him react in ways he never imagined he would react.

He was whining. Whining! His mind could only concentrate on the feeling of your pussy. He had no room to focus on controlling his voice. This was the natural reaction, he needed to leave it be. His chest was rising quickly as he tried to catch his breath. His eyebrows furrowed with concern. He wasn’t sure if he could handle doing this for long. He could hold himself back from cumming but he will cry if he has to do that. His eyes were already watering up.

That doesn’t matter to you. All you want is for him to cum.

His hands went up to hold your hips while you continued to ride him. He knew he was close. His cock was twitching. The need to release was causing his abdomen and chest to feel tighter. Then suddenly he slammed you down on his cock. You moaned from the feeling of having him deep inside of you. Though Kung Lao’s moans concealed yours as he came deep inside of you again. His grip on your hips tightened until he finished cumming.

That’s it, no more, you have to get pregnant now.

You rested your body against his with his cock still inside of you. It grew soft as time went on. Kung Lao held you in his arms as he caught his breath. Everything was a blur to him. All he knows is that he is a lucky man. A lucky man with a pretty bunny girl in his arms who makes him cum. And you have a handsome man who treats you well and fulfills your needs.

His hands rubbed your back as you licked his neck. The high wore off and the need to rest took you both. You fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Looks like Kung Lao ain’t getting back to training.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Months passed and your belly grew bigger. You did get pregnant! A baby girl that you and Kung Lao made. He never expected himself to become a father this early on but he wasn’t upset by it. He was ecstatic to start a family with you and raise a child together.

You’re about eight months in so you need some help getting around. Better call your man.

“KUNG LAO!”

He came running into the bedroom quickly. When he saw you struggling to get off the beg he chuckled a little before helping you up. He got you up effortlessly. Ain’t he so strong.

“You know, when the baby comes, you’re gonna have to keep that hat far away from her.” You advised.

“I know, I know. But when she’s old enough I will have to teach her how to use it. I’ll be passing it down to her anyways, or at least something similar.”

“Well, I hope she doesn’t cut her ears off with it. If she does you’re gonna get it.” You warned him.

Geez, pregnant women are scary.

Yap notes: Oh my goodness, I'm a little late. That's fine, I was studying for my final for my anthropology class WHICH I AM DONE WITH. It wasn't all that bad actually and I ended with an A so good for me. So hopefully I can get back to this unless I get distracted again which will happen I won't lie. Also sorry if i didn’t write him submissive enough this is my first time trying but it’s okay. Adiós!

[heartkaji]

lose it !

(n) — suo hayato only eats numbers

tw: ed ! please read comments !

you unlock suo hayato’s phone in aim of finding messages from other women; pictures from other girls or maybe even men.

instead you find a calorie app & the notes of a dead man walking.

suo hayato eats eight hundred calories a day.

for breakfast he logs coffee, black. no sugar or milk or anything because what is he, an animal ? lunch is rice cakes & hot sauce & cucumber as a snack but dinner is empty because it’s already 7pm & only fatties eat beyond seven so suo must wait till 12pm tomorrow before food can find his throat again.

suo hayato only eats numbers.

your heart breaks a little more as your fingers scroll further through his notes & logged meals. tuesday reads ‘no lunch, make up for extra cals from donuts with sakura’ & wednesday is empty because ‘water fast’. suo hayato is a disciplined boy but every log ends with ‘resist or regret’ but fuck this is unhealthy & why does suo resist himself an essence to live ?

“love, have you seen my phone ?”

you don’t realize your eyes are hot with tears until suo cups your cheeks in cold palms, eyes almond & scanning your own as if they’ve just seen a ghost. you press your body against his own & god he is so frail, you have never realized it before but now it’s so apparent & fuck if you let your mind wander any further you might become a woman half dead too.

“suo, i don’t want you to die,”

& suo hayato only sighs, because if only you knew he’d died a long time ago.

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, edit, translate or reupload

a/n : this is a serious topic, so please forgive me for this serious message.

my heart goes out to all the wintergirls & boys out there. the ones who go to bed fantasizing about what they’ll eat tomorrow & get moody when their one meal a day doesn’t hit the way it’s meant to. my heart goes out to all the girls & boys who watch mukbangs & cooking shows in order to drown out the growling in their stomach. the ones who flip their chip bags to the back on instinct & would rather die than eat a plate of waffles & syrup. my heart goes out to everyone who exercises all they eat, who sleeps & drinks away their hunger & ties their hair & clenches their throat every time they step in the bathroom after a meal. recovery is a bitter pill but you can only heal when all the pills have been swallowed. it is worth it. eating disorders kill & no you don’t have to be underweight or anorexic or ‘atypical’ anything because just a few months of calorie counting kills your mind & after long enough it will kill you too.

your body is worth so much more than coke zero & greek yoghurt & sugar free jello. recovery is real & it may take years before you are full of it, but everyday gets at least a little better when you are not eating yourself to the brink of death.

i am not the best at these kinds of messages, but i hope some winter girl or boy reads this message & thinks to themself, i am enough, not because you are under 110 pounds but simply because you are. your body is so much more than stretch marks & loose skin or arm fat & the likes. your body is yours & you are enough.

my heart beats for all of you because if you are not careful, it will not be able to beat for itself. i beg of you, choose to recover & please choose it today. why follow wonyoung & monster high diets when you are already so heart-achingly beautiful ? recovery is never easy, but it is worth it & so are you.

ps: so sorry for writing such a serious topic for such an unserious anime, but someone might need to hear this & that someone might be you. yes yes im aware suo is only on a diet because he’s a monk or something, but i know his little eating habits can be so triggering to watch to some & i just wanted to let you all know that it will be okay.

gosh why do i feel like such a monster for writing this

[nekovmancer]

Hello, I was wondering if you could make zenyatta and ramattra with Cyborg!Reader like genji, but their body glows if they have too much energy.

overwatch headcanons: cyborg!reader with Ramattra and Zenyatta

warnings: mentions of violence, trauma and such, a bit platonic and… ye, pretty much fine, nothing graphic

a/n: my love for Zen is 100% dear and platonic yet- well, you guys know. RAMATTRA!!! 

will do them separately in the present game timeline and then together back in the monastery and… it’s past midnight here, my eyelids are heavy, but there’s no sleep in between me and writing fanfiction so, sowy for the mistakes ahead, I will correct them tomorrow!! anxiety kept me awake and obligated me to post as soon as I’ve finished, you know

btw!! thanks for requesting. I love to write it and I hope you also enjoy. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

OPEN FOR HEADCANON REQUESTS! Send yours here, but read rules first

Ramattra

A Ravager was responsible for your body’s destruction, so it’s only natural you’re shaking on its presence

Back when it happened, omnics were still under Anubis’ control, so it’s not like you blame him or any other R-7000 for their doings

Still, you got these chills running down your spine now that you stand face to face to Null Sector’s infamous leader

But the thrill is even stronger when he proves all your believes to be wrong, being to one to extend a helping hand to prevent your body to overheat

As Genji, your parts were substituted with cybernetics: flesh, muscle and metal bounding into one thing to keep your alive

Though, you weren’t lucky to be shaped by doctor Ziegler’s careful hands, which lead to several problems, including the overheating itself, caused by your frenetic running while trying to escape Toronto during the Invasion

Ramattra saw you and couldn’t help but be… fascinated 

You were not an omnic, so his helmets were useless, still you’re shaped in metal, no sight of skin showing. A human, without humanity’s resemblance 

He caught your heartbeats, their rhythm more and more violent, growing exponentially as the glow from your cybernetics, a flashing red of warning

He’s so intrigued he founds himself kneeling in front of you, one hand reaching out while you press your back to the wall behind you; no way to run out of this

“Hush now. If I was to hurt you, why the ceremony?” 

His words had logic, true, but fear was devouring you

The last time you were this close to a Ravager was the last time you still had much of your organic body parts

“I may be of help, if you let me” 

What choice did you have anyway? If he didn’t kill you, your body would do the job alone 

 Ramattra escorts you to safety, and ironically it means the very ships vomiting killing robots a while ago

You stay in his workshop as it takes little time for him to figure out how to cool down your body, and the glow is long gone by the time he’s done

“Not an omnic, yet not fully human…  where do you find a place for one as yourself in this doomed world?”

Here’s the thing: you don’t

That’s why you accept his offer to stay, despite all of your fears

In the end, the hands who once destroyed you were the same who saved you from death

Zenyatta

Omnics and humans coexisting peacefully was a metaphor to your own state: both human and machine sharing the same body, trying to not repel one another

A heart of flesh habitating a chest of metal, you tiptoed the lines between the two worlds, but you didn’t felt as part of any of them

Still, you find solace in the words of a monk by the name of Mondatta. He spoke of hope and understandment, of peace above the conflict. Without even knowing, he brought balance to your turmoil; past and present

But hope was a dangerous thing for the ones like you, if there was anyone else sharing the burden of a dreadful existence as yours

And you’re quick out of reasons since Mondatta’s death

You weren’t welcome among the omnics, and humans saw you as a freak. Any chance of normality was eradicated 

As a last act of faith, you did Aurora’s peregrination to Shambali. You didn’t know what to expect, but surely the villagers near the monastery left a very bad impression

Along with the exhaustion, you entered the sacred halls with your cybernetics glowing red, a flash of the eminent chaos that would erupt if you’re not stabilized quickly enough

A monk comes to your aid, and by staring at his faceplate alone you can feel something different stirring within you. A long lost calmness tossing your circuits errors aside

You wouldn’t forget his name not even in a million lifetimes: Zenyatta, the one who offered you a place to rest after your journey, and the very first to be interest in you

His genuine interest, plus the care, was touching. No one ever did anything similar to you, not after Talon decided you could still be a soldier even without most of your body

Which led to you running away, not soon enough to prevent Doctor O'Deorain  from damaging your body though. Another monster carefully constructed to be Talon’s pawn, no matter how much pain came from it

But you’ve already paid the price for your mistakes, and one thing is for sure: you’re no monster

Among the monks, you could feel that familiar peaceful feeling lingering under your skin, resonating through the circuits of your cybernetics

For once, you did not felt cast aside, most thankful to Tekhartha Zenyatta

His harmony orbs helped to regain a balance you thought to be long lost, and not only: the chaos within you, something you tried to ignore, was embraced as it should be also cherished 

“No living being is completely pure, nor completely evil. We’re both our strengths and flaws: to deny one existence in detriment of other is to deny yourself.”

Even the worst of you was forgiven; by him first, and you last. Where you felt shame for your wrongdoings, Zenyatta pathed a lesson that erased your doubts

Through meditation, you found not only peace with your inner self, but with the world surrounding you

The balance of energy through your body presented you with a new glowing: not the crimson red of tiredness and rage, but a warm yellow that irradiates warm as a small sun; the energy of the Iris found you

“My dear friend, I bathe in the light of your soul. May it keep us sheltered during the dark times ahead of us.”

Ramattra & Zenyatta

When the brothers found you, they first thought you were an omnic

Judging by the people screaming around you, tossing stones, displaying the worst of their violence and, of course, the fact your whole constitution was pure metal

It’s only when they take you to the monastery that they knowledge the other side of your face, the one that’s still flesh 

No questions were asked, but none of them are naive. Being a cyborg meant something, and this something tiptoed around the lines of violence

And despite it all, cyborgs are quite rare. Especially ones glowing as you did, with your joints pulsating with energy

It was easy to distinguish your humor by the light radiating from your body: usually soft, it could be oversaturated when your humor reached peaks, transiting through a rainbow of colors depending on what you had in your mind

At first, a light tone of red flashed whenever they approached. Despite being your saviors, you still felt a bit of distrustfulness towards them

Humans saw you as an aberration, and you did not have too much time with sentient omnics to put their behavior to test. Not that you felt inclined to do so. To deal with humanity’s rejection was enough

Zenyatta was patient, but Ramattra… no metal in this world could undo the fact you were a human. And he also had his share with humanity to know how incredible terrible they can be 

That’s why, maybe, it’s easy for you to approach him 

Ramattra resented humanity, despite his best efforts to find harmony through his want for peace and his desire for revenge. Not that you had the guts to do anything but lament over your own dismay, but… you could relate

Zenyatta, on the other hand, touched your deepest cravings for being a better person, standing above those who abused you. You did not wished for violence, despite your rage: to be comprehended was your key 

And both of them did it, in their own way

Through your days in Shambali, you felt part of their brotherhood. Not exactly as such, but… cherished. Each of them bonded with you in their own unique way, understanding your pains, your dreams, your wants. Piece by piece, the three of you found a way together

Now, whenever you meditate with Ramattra, concentrating the energy flow in your body, a glowing purple flashed through your cybernetics. But with Zenyatta, a deep golden color showed itself

And that’s why you could never choose. Your love for them was measured equally: if cut in half, one part would still be of Ramattra, and the other would belong to Zenyatta

So when Ramattra leaves from Shambali, and both you and Zenyatta decline his offer to follow his path off the Monastery, there’s no way from you in the opposites side, but through the middle-term

You still dream of the day you three will meet again. For the good or for the bad, you missed them for a lifetime, and to be separated brings up this feeling all over again

Now, whenever you concentrate your energy, it’s grayish: devoid of color, deepness and light

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hi there, I’m planning on writing gothic/gothic romance fiction. Do you have any tips?

Do you also have any tips to not make your writing too repetitive? I have a habit of repeating words a lot.

Writing Notes: Gothic Fiction

Gothic Novel

European Romantic pseudomedieval fiction having a prevailing atmosphere of mystery and terror.

Its heyday was the 1790s, but it underwent frequent revivals in subsequent centuries.

Called Gothic because its imaginative impulse was drawn from medieval buildings and ruins, such novels commonly used settings such as castles or monasteries equipped with subterranean passages, dark battlements, hidden panels, and trapdoors.

The Gothic is characterized by its darkly picturesque scenery and its eerie stories of the macabre.

It draws its name and aesthetic inspiration from the Gothic architectural style of the Middle Ages ⁠— crumbling castles, isolated aristocratic estates, and spaces of decrepitude are familiar settings within the genre.

Gothic fiction is rooted in blending the old with the new.

As such, it often takes place during moments of historical transition, from the end of the medieval era to the beginnings of industrialization.

Contemporary technology and science are set alongside ancient backdrops, and this strange pairing helps create the pervasive sense of uncanniness and estrangement that the Gothic is known for.

Past & present fold in on each other; even as man’s technological advancements seem to make him increasingly powerful, history continues to haunt.

Elements of Gothic Literature

The Gothic is a genre of spiritual uncertainty: it creates encounters with the sublime and constantly explores events beyond explanation. Whether they feature supernatural phenomena or focus on the psychological torment of the protagonists, Gothic works terrify by showing readers the evils that inhabit our world.

CHARACTERS

Characters in Gothic fiction often find themselves in unfamiliar places, as they — and the readers — leave the safe world they knew behind.

Ghosts are right at home in the genre, where they’re used to explore themes of entrapment and isolation, while omens, curses, and superstitions add a further air of mystery.

ATMOSPHERE

Eeriness is as important as the scariness of the events themselves.

In a Gothic novel, the sky seems perpetually dark and stormy, the air filled with an unshakable chill.

THEMES

In addition to exploring spooky spaces, Gothic literature ventures into the dark recesses of the mind: the genre frequently confronts existential themes of madness, morality, and man pitted against God or nature.

Physical and mental ruin go hand in hand — as the ancient settings decay so do the characters’ grips on reality.

History of Gothic Literature

The vogue was initiated in England by Horace Walpole’s immensely successful The Castle of Otranto (1765).

His most respectable follower was Ann Radcliffe, whose The Mysteries of Udolpho (1794) and The Italian (1797) are among the best examples of the genre.

A more sensational type of Gothic romance exploiting horror and violence flourished in Germany and was introduced to England by Matthew Gregory Lewis with The Monk (1796).

The classic horror stories Frankenstein (1818), by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, and Dracula (1897), by Bram Stoker, are in the Gothic tradition but introduce the existential nature of humankind as its definitive mystery and terror.

Easy targets for satire, the early Gothic romances died of their own extravagances of plot.

But Gothic atmospheric machinery continued to haunt the fiction of such major writers as:

Charlotte, Anne, and Emily Brontë, Edgar Allan Poe, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and even Charles Dickens in Bleak House and Great Expectations.

In the second half of the 20th century, the term was applied to paperback romances having the same kind of themes and trappings similar to the originals.

Tips on Writing Gothic Fiction

SETTING

Gothic fiction can, of course, be set anywhere – but 2 key components of Gothic settings are as follows:

Gothic settings are isolated – a small community, a rural town, a single-family home on the open moors… wherever your Gothic story takes place, make sure that the setting is in isolation from the rest of the world. Places that are difficult to get to, with small populations, or are only home to one family or small group of people are ideal for weaving a Gothic tale. Even if your characters are not physically isolated – maybe they live in a city, for example – their isolation should be present in some way; maybe emotionally, maybe socially. There are plenty of options therein.

Gothic settings revolve around a home base – not necessarily a home or house, though that is quite common; but, with almost every Gothic tale, a central setting is introduced very quickly and almost all the action takes place inside or around it. This furthers that feeling of isolation, and also helps the house or laboratory or island or whatever else feel alive, as if it is a character itself.

These settings are often fun to develop and aid the story so, so much by being atmospheric and anthropomorphic.

By creating a strong setting and central location, you are setting up your Gothic fiction for success.

VOICE & CHARACTER

A strong voice, usually in first person, is a staple of Gothic fiction.

Gothic main characters are usually curious, determined, and unable to rest until whatever is going on around them is uncovered.

They are not faint of heart and often have experience dealing with hardship in the past; they are uniquely qualified for whatever disturbing events are going on.

Your character’s voice should be curious, but not paranoid; apprehensive, but not frightened or cowardly; and, above all, interesting.

As many Gothic are written in first person, you want your main character to take action and investigating the goings-on.

ATMOSPHERE

Similar to setting, it’s important to focus on atmosphere. Make sure you appeal to the five senses – let your reader know how it sounds, smells, feels!

The more details, the better; immerse your reader by making them feel as if they are actually in the space.

Often, as mentioned, Gothic novels take place in areas that are remote, experience frequent storms or bad weather, or otherwise have a very ominous environment.

Of course, Gothic novels can take place anywhere, but the takeaway here is to remember to highlight aspects that go beyond the visual.

SUBGENRE

Know what the genre within your Gothic work is or is going to be.

Are you writing a Gothic romance? A Gothic thriller? A Gothic horror? There are even types of books one might categorize as a “cozy Gothic” – taking the elements of a cozy mystery, but with a Gothic setting and characters.

There are some very specific geographical locations and time periods for Gothics, Victorian or Regency-era Northern England being a couple of them; but they are not all set in Europe in the 19th century, nor should they be.

Consider such settings as seen in Southern Gothic in the 2020s, for example, or Canadian Gothic (set anywhere in Canada, but usually southern and rural Ontario) in the late 90s, among many others. These are only a few examples of hundreds!

Dark academia titles can often fall into the Gothic genre as well, and, of course there are Gothic fantasy and sci-fi titles as well.

Carefully consider what sub-genre your Gothic fiction falls under before writing it, or during the early stages of writing as your work gets fleshed out. It may fall under just one category, or multiple! Either way, knowing this will help you write and later market your title.

MARKETING

Think about marketing at an early stage. Make it clear that it is a Gothic novel!

And consider publishing your title at a time when the Gothic genre might be in higher demand, such as during the month of October or the winter in general.

Appeal to fans of grim stories, horror romance, and what have you by theming your marketing.

If writing a Gothic novel is new for you, be sure to highlight that!

It can be exciting when an author tries out a new genre and moves into a new literary space. Be sure to let your readers know of this new venture.

Gothic Romance

As a genre, gothic fiction was first established with the publication of Horace Walpole’s The Castle of Otranto in 1764. Characterized by a dark, foreboding atmosphere and outlandish, sometimes grotesque, characters and events, gothic fiction has flourished and branched off into many different subgenres in the centuries since its creation.

While Walpole introduced what would later become the definitive tropes of the genre (creepy castles, cursed families, gloomy atmosphere), it was not until Ann Radcliffe’s A Sicilian Romance in 1790 that gothic romance began to develop as its own legitimate subgenre.

Radcliffe kept many of the same tropes established by Walpole’s work, such as isolated settings with semi-supernatural phenomena; however, her novels featured female protagonists battling through terrifying ordeals while struggling to be with their true loves.

This concept is what separates gothic romance from its cousin, gothic horror.

Female leads would come to dominate gothic romance, especially after the publication of Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre in 1847.

A young woman struggling to maintain her independence as she falls for a dark, brooding, handsome man became a genre-defining plot of gothic romances published in the decades that followed.

A renewed public interest in gothic romance came on the heels of Daphne Du Maurier’s Rebecca upon its publication in 1938.

Authors such as Victoria Holt, Mary Stewart, and Phyllis A. Whitney dominated the gothic romance trade paperback market from the 1960s to the 1990s.

The image of a young woman running away from a darkened castle became a staple of gothic romance novel covers.

In 1983, Gaywyck, by Vincent Virga, became the first published gay gothic romance.

Modern additions to the genre continue to reflect its interest in both terror and romance, while also delivering updated or reimagined versions of familiar tropes.

Tips for Avoiding Word Repetition

While repeating a word or phrase can add emphasis and rhythm to your writing, it can also make your writing awkward and difficult to read. When you’re not using repetition as a rhetorical device, repeating words can get in the way of good writing. Here are some tricks for avoiding unnecessary repetition of words:

Read your work aloud. Reading aloud will help you avoid unintentional word repetition. Reading your work aloud is an excellent way to both hear the sonic effects of your prose and catch awkward repeated sounds or other unintended effects.

Read your work backward. Reading your work backward is an editing trick that forces your brain to slow down and pay close attention to the individual sentences. Start at the end of a chapter, paragraph, or page and read the last sentence of that section. (Don’t read the sentence itself backward—it won’t make any sense.) Next, read the second-to-last sentence, and so on. This will allow you to work at the sentence level, catching any unintended repetition or other small mistakes that your brain naturally skims over.

Consult a thesaurus. So you’ve found a repeated word. Now what? You can try rearranging your sentence to get rid of the repeated word, or you can keep the sentence the same and plug in a different word in its place. If you’re at a loss, consult a thesaurus for a list of synonyms. You want your writing to sound like you, and to be accessible to your audience, so it’s best to avoid using words you aren’t familiar with. But if you find yourself unintentionally repeating the same word over and over, a thesaurus can help you identify another word that more precisely captures your meaning.

Some Writing Strategies to Avoid Repetition

Excerpts from writing tips on repetition by Dr. Ryan Shirey:

While repetition is not an inherently bad thing (and can quite often be used to great effect as in the classical rhetorical technique of anaphora), most of us want to make sure that we’re not boring our readers by saying the same things over and over again without any variation or development.

If you’re worried about repeating ideas, then one of the easiest and most illuminating things that you can do is to reverse outline your draft. When you reverse outline, you take your draft and distill each idea and piece of evidence back into an outline. Some writers like to do this in the margins and others prefer a separate sheet of paper. Whatever your preference, a reverse outline will let you see rather clearly whether or not you’ve returned to the same idea or piece of evidence multiple times in the same essay. If you find that you have, you can think about rearranging or cutting paragraphs as necessary.

Another strategy if you’re worried about repeating ideas is to use different colored highlighters, colored pencils, or coloring tools in a word processing program to mark areas of your text where you’re working on specific ideas. If I’m writing a paper on the history of the run up to World War I, for example, I might decide to mark all the areas where I discuss treaty arrangements in green, all the areas where I discuss colonial expansion in blue, the parts that discuss arms manufacturing and trade in red, and so on. Once I’ve visualized these ideas with color, I can see more easily whether or not I keep returning to the same topics or whether I need to restructure any portions of my essay. Be careful, though–you don’t want to create artificial distinctions that might negatively impact your overall point. For instance, if a conflict over colonial expansion leads to a treaty arrangement, I would need to be very careful about using the context in which I’m discussing that treaty dictate how I code that sentence or paragraph.

If you’re worried about repeating words or phrases, you can use the “find” feature in your word processing program to highlight all of the instances where you’ve used it. Once you’ve identified the problem areas, you can look for ways to combine sentences using coordination or subordination, replace nouns with pronouns, or (very carefully) use a thesaurus to diversify your vocabulary.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

Hope this helps with your writing!

[newkatzkafe2023]

Can you imagine the monkey King's wife being exactly like chi chi from dragon ball 😂.

A monkey version of her

They are very scared of her, and she's the only person the monkey King is intimidated by.

I blame the Lego monkie kid voice actor 😅

OH MY GOD!!! THAT IS BOTH AMAZING AND TERRIFYING I LOVE IT!!!!!!🤩🤩🤩🤩

That's the weapon you have Below👇👇👇

(Lmk Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh he pisses you off every second of everything day, and it's scares him hell even Macaque is scared of you. It's bad enough that he tends to be irresponsible and Take everything even more difficult with his poor communication skills. Then if it were to cause problems for poor Mk, then that's where you draw the line, and with every life threatening event that is centered around your husband and son. Well both Mk and Wukong Would be actively running from you by the end of it🤣

(MKR Wukong) Man he would take the monk's anger over your anger any time That's how scared he is of you. You know his sh*tty attitude and personality and his habit of having bouts of violence but you. Oh no he would do whatever it takes to stay away from that territory of upsetting you, but if it happens anyway he would get his act together immediately. The pilgrims always gets baffled by his submission and Fruity would say that mama is scary.

(HIB Wukong) Well now at least he knows the Do's and don't's parts of your marriage, considering the results and Consequences. But unfortunately he has to come back home to you after 500 years and he'll have to make up an explanation for his absence. Even worse when you told him time and time again not to go and attack heaven On the count of that is not the best idea to handle the war. Wukong had stupidly disregarded your words and now he has to come home to you, he was right to be worried because you tore him a new one because he Deliberately Disregarded your objections as your environment shook and crack from your yells. the only reason you stop was because he came home with a little boy and baby girl.

(NR Wukong) Li and Su had dumbfounded looks on both of their faces. In the living room was Wukong cowering behind the couch as a female monkey also with a metal mask was screaming profanities at him. The was the day they met you Y/n L/N Wukong his wife, but boi were you quite Intimidating to them. Thankfully they quickly learn how sweet and kind you actually are and the two even fell in love with your godly cooking. You quickly explained that Wukong had fail to tell you that Nezha was recarnated as you stuff Li with food because That's where you always did 3000 years ago.

(Netflix Wukong) Man you used were so little, quiet and cute🥰 when you a cub now your tall, loud, and scary😨 and married to him. You are the more responsible and grounded of the marriage but his reckless behavior makes you both worried and angry. You usually wack him with stick because of his condescending attitude and he should know not to talk to you like that. Then the last straw was when he got to his head in his kaiju form and Lin had to get you and well.....you can imagine how shocking it is to see a giant male monkey to wimper as a tiny female monkey yells at him.🤭🤭🤭

(BMW Wukong) GOLLY!!! you were always the wrong one to mess with ����. For him pissing off heaven will always be less terrifying than pissing you off😬. Especially when your as powerful as he is, and would have that large club bat you dubbed as Excaliborg That you would occasionally beat his ass with. Unlike Erlang whom he's more then happy to taunt and mess with he knows better then to do the same to you unless he wants to be an must be classified smeer on the ground😬🥶.

(Destined one) He wouldn't get on your nerves in the slightest, mainly because that's a terrible idea but he's a sweet mildly Obedient man to you. You get worried about him alot because he's so selectively mute, so you made sure to engage him in conversations. The one thing you do love is how much he loves your cooking 🍳 and you are more then happy to make large batches for him to eat. He's a good Quiet husband to you and that's good enough for you.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG😈🍳

[gegengestalt]

131 useless or often forgotten facts in The Brothers Karamazov!

This 27 of April is the second anniversary of the day I finished this book for the first time. To do something special, I reread it over the last 20 days and as I did it, I compiled little things that are easy to forget in these 1000 pages filled with food for thought. Let's go!

1. Mitya fought in a duel, though it's most likely that nobody died in it.

2. Ivan's journalist pseudonym is "Eyewitness".

3. Alyosha, in his own words, came back to Skotoprigonyevsk to visit his mother's grave.

4. Fyodor Pavlovich owns several taverns in the district.

5. Grigory was the one who gave Sofia Ivanovna a proper gravestone.

6. Alyosha is one deduction away from becoming a communist.

7. The Brothers Karamazov begins in late August.

8. Kalganov is supposedly Alyosha's friend. This is never mentioned ever again.

9. Kalganov gave one coin to some beggars and told them to divide it among themselves.

10. There is a rumour that the previous elder beat people with sticks. This is false.

11. Alyosha is the only person in the monastery who knows that Rakitin is an atheist, and keeps his secret.

12. Four years ago, Pyotr Miusov divulged a fake story about a saint making out with his own decapitated head. Fyodor never forgot.

13. Madame Khokhlakov is only 33 years old. She has been a widow for 5 years, meaning Lise lost her father at age 9.

14. Zosima's serenity in front of the woman who confesses to a murder may foreshadow his later recollection of having a murder confessed to before.

15. Zosima likes to make jokes.

16. Lise and Alyosha last saw each other two years before.

17. Reminder that Grushenka met Mitya because Fyodor wanted her help to throw Mitya into a debtors' prison.

18. Kuzma Samsonov is the mayor of Skotoprigonyevsk.

19. Ivan rambled to Dmitri and Katerina about how he thinks Rakitin will be a failed journalist turned landlord.

20. Fyodor Pavlovich's house is filled with rats.

21. The Miusov family had their own private theatre.

22. Lizaveta Smerdyashchaya was a bit over 142cm/4'7 tall.

23. In 1842 there was a runaway convict called Karp commiting crimes in Skotoprigonyevsk.

24. Marya Kondratievna's mother is missing a leg.

25. Mitya ghosted a girl in real life.

26. Katerina's mother died when she was young.

27. Mitya had a fever for two weeks once because of a spider bite.

28.Mitya thought Grushenka was "nothing striking" the first time he saw her.

29. Mitya was squatting in his neighbour's rented room.

30. Fyodor Pavlovich has a portrait of the former provincial governor in his house.

31. Fyodor Pavlovich goes to sleep at 3- 4AM, like Dostoyevsky himself.

32. Sofia Ivanovna was being courted by a rich man called Beliavsky while she was married.

33. Who was the woman coming from the alley that Mitya mistook for Grushenka? I still wonder.

34. A cheap glass jar was destroyed during Mitya's frenzied break- in.

35. Katerina sends two detailed reports a week to her surrogate mother figure who lives in Moscow.

36. Katerina has an aquarium.

37. Alyosha sleeps using his monk habit as a blanket.

38. Father Ferapont survives eating nothing more than 1,6kg of bread a week.

39. Ivan had told his father about his feelings for Katerina, for some reason.

40. When Alyosha kissed his father, he had the impression that Alyosha was thinking that it was their last conversation.

41. Madame Khokhlakova owns three houses as property.

42. Madame Khokhlakova and Katerina Ivanovna are supposedly great friends.

43. Ivan reads Schiller when nobody is looking.

44. One of Snegiryov's daughters, Varvara, is invested in feminism.

45. Captain Snegiryov's childhood friend is a lawyer.

46. Mitya spilled cognac over the table of the summerhouse.

47. Smerdyakov sings in falsetto.

48. Marya Kondratievna is the only one who ever calls Smerdyakov 'Pavel Fyodorovich'.

49. Ivan uses Smerdyakov as a messenger.

50. Dmitri and Katerina had been engaged for around six months.

51. Ivan's right shoulder looks lower than the left one when he walks.

52. Smerdyakov often moves the tip of his right foot from side to side when he stands (adorable).

53. Dmitri's favourite death threats are "pounding in a mortar" and "breaking legs".

54. Grigory suffers from paralysis three times a year.

55. The real name of 'Lyagavy' is Gorstkin.

56. Zosima's real name is "Zinovy".

57. There was actually another old German doctor before Herzenstube and he was named Eisenschmidt.

58. Zosima has known Brother Anfim for forty years.

59. The Bible is thrown once.

60. Madame Khokhlakova asked Rakitin to go to the funeral as her eye.

61. Alyosha was hiding behind the grave of starets Iov, who lived 105 years.

62. Zosima was harshly criticized for telling a monk hallucinating to take his meds if praying doesn't work.

63. Both Grushenka and Rakitin are children of deacons.

64. Samsonov is the only person that Grushenka seems to be completely and clearly sincere with.

65. Likewise, Samsonov only trusts her when it comes to counting money.

66. Samsonov has the entire first floor of his house for himself.

67. Mitya tells many of his secrets to his landlords, who are fond of him.

68. Alongside eggs and bread, Mitya grabbed and ate a piece of sausage that he "found".

69. Mitya and Perkhotin first met at the Metropolis tavern.

70. Mitya's dueling pistols are his "most prized possessions".

71. Madame Khokhlakova apparently borrows money from Miusov.

72. The brass pestle was 17 centimetres long.

73. Mitya spent exactly 300 rubles in food and alcohol in Mokroye, and it would have been 400 if Perkhotin didn't help.

74. Mitya gave a glass of champagne to a kid.

75. The owner of Plotnikov's shop is called Varvara Alexeievna.

76. Two thousand villagers live in Mokroye.

77. Trifon Borissovich makes his younger daughters clean up the messes of every guest of the inn.

78. Pan Wroblewski is 190cm / 6'2 tall.

79. Madame Khokhlakova gets a migraine whenever she has to talk to Mitya.

80. The ispravnik's elder granddaughter is called Olga, and the night of the murder was her birthday.

81. The prosecutor's wife seems very interested in sending for Mitya often, for reasons he doesn't know.

82. Mitya does not know that the epidermis is the outer layer of the skin.

83. Nikolay Parfenovich is the only person in the world who trusts Ippolit Kirillovich.

84. Mitya often dreams that a person that he fears is chasing him and searching for him.

85. Nikolay Parfenovich wears a smoky topaz ring on his middle finger.

86. Pan Wroblewski is a dentist without a license.

87. Kalganov had visited Grushenka once before, but she seemed to dislike him for some reason.

88. Kolya's father died when he was a little baby.

89. There was a plot going on in the background about the doctor's maid having a child out of wedlock.

90. Rakitin often talks with Kolya. Seems like the only person who takes his ideas seriously is a literal child.

91. Smerdyakov and Ilyusha met and talked to each other.

92. Alyosha rarely gets colds.

93. Katerina befriended Snegiryov's sick wife.

94. Kolya was taken to a judge for teaching a guy how to efficiently crack the neck of a goose.

95. Kolya is against women's rights.

96. Mitya and Grushenka spent five weeks secluded and away from each other after the arrest.

97. Grushenka went to see Grigory to try to convince him that the door wasn't open.

98. Rakitin made up in an article that Madame Khokhlakova offered Mitya 3k rubles to run away with her.

99. Madame Khokhlakova doesn't remember Rakitin's patronymic, and calls him "Ivanovich" instead of "Osipovich".

100. Madame Khokhlakova didn't know of the judicial system reform until two days before the trial.

101. Lise sent chocolates to Mitya in jail, even though there's no reference to them ever interacting before.

102. Alyosha has had the same dream about the devils that Lise has.

103. Alyosha is friends with the jail inspector, who often discusses the gospels with him.

104. Mitya spent two entire nights awake since he discovered ethics.

105. Ivan cleans his own room.

106. Smerdyakov shared a hospital room with an agonizing dropsy patient.

107. Mitya's letter had the bill on the other side.

108. Smerdyakov uses garters with his stockings.

109. There is an apple tree in Fyodor's garden.

110. One of Ivan's "most stupid" thoughts is being the fat wife of a merchant.

111. Ivan had a friend named Korovkin when he was 17, the one he told the story of the quadrillion kilometres to.

112. Ivan has another poem named Geological Cataclysm.

113. Alyosha was the first person the distraught Marya Kondratievna ran to.

114. Ivan is mistaken for "the eldest son" twice in the trial.

115. Grigory did not remember he was in 1866.

116. Rakitin knows "every detail" of the biography of Fyodor Pavlovich and all the Karamazovs.

117. Grushenka's surname, Svetlova, means "light".

118. Mitya once dropped 100 rubles while he was drunk.

119. Ivan saw not just the Devil, but people who had died while he walked in the street.

120. Ippolit Kirillovich died nine months after the trial, the first and last day he received applauses.

121. Marfa is dismissed as a suspect simply because they can't imagine her killing.

122. There is a partition wall in Mitya's lodgings.

123. Mitya mostly stopped staring at the floor during the prosecutor's speech whenever Grushenka was mentioned.

124. Fetyukovich bends forward in an unnerving manner when he speaks.

125. An 18 year old street vendor committed axe murder earlier that year.

126. The verdict was given past 1AM, making the trial last almost 16 hours.

127. Katerina kept the sick Ivan in her house knowing it could possibly be harmful to her reputation.

128. Rakitin tried to sneak in to see Mitya in the hospital twice.

129. Lise sent the flowers that adorn Ilyusha's coffin, and Katerina paid for the grave.

130. Snegiryov cries seeing his late son's little boots the same way one of the women at the monastery in the beginning of the book did.

131. At the end, Alyosha mentions "leaving the city for a long time" soon. Where to? We don't know.

If you read this far down, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing all of these down.