#and i have no idea why people bother trying

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

heyyy so like you are the only creator i fllw that can maybe write this...uhm like sukuna and insecure!reader that start making out and it gets heated and then sukuna takes readers shirt off and then his but when he wants to pull down her pants she stops him bcz she is insecure of her stretch marks but then he reassures her and they do it😭 I hope you will maybe write this and didn't have a stroke trying to understand this request 💓

- love anoo (i LOOVEE your work)

Unwavering

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, insecure!reader, soft!Sukuna, trueform!sukuna, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, mdni, NO PROOFREAD SORRY IM TIRED.

An: I think this is a stupid cute idea 🥹 Thank you for trusting me and requesting anoo!! I really appreciate it 🫂

Sukuna’s a patient man. He had waited over a thousand years to execute a failing plan to take over the world. Now that he’s lost, he’s decided to take up other avenues in his life.

Learning to simply… live was hard. Sukuna’s a determined man. He needs to have a goal in mind in order to function. Whatever meaningless hobby he took up, he tried being the best at.

With his newfound free time, he also decided to try to live the slow life. He took meaningless trips to coffee shops, and he tried not to think about murder when everyone screamed and ran away from him. Maybe it was his 7’3 stature… maybe it was the extra set of arms… maybe it was the tattoos.

Everyday he was reminded of why he didn’t live this life in the first place. Humans do not accept him. They do not want him in their society. He was willing to bet that they’d almost rather him play the villain… Then, they could all shamelessly hate him.

Though, there was one human who didn’t run. The nervous barista gave him a shaky smile, and she politely asked for his name.

Sukuna was taken aback. This tiny mortal wants to know his name? Knowing someone’s name in the heien era was a privilege — not a right. He grew up and lived in a time before social media and phones. If you wanted to know someone’s name, you had to ask them for it, and they had to be willing to oblige you in an answer.

With your cute demeanor, Sukuna was willing to oblige you with his name. “It’s Suk-“ He stopped himself. That was a name that struck fear into people’s hearts. He didn’t want to be associated with that fear anymore, and the thought of frightening you actually brought him no joy. “Ryomen.”

You gave another shaky smile before you carefully etched his name into the side of a cup. For you, this interaction was terrifying, but you couldn’t afford to quit in this economy. So, you were serving a monster. No big deal.

“I like that name.” You complimented. It’s often a compliment you give patrons when you’re nervous… or when you’re trying your hand at flirting. Either way, you look back up at him, trying not to focus on the extra set of eyes. “What can I get you?”

Sukuna felt a weird shiver going up his back when you complimented him. Perhaps this was your cursed technique? Were you a sorcerer pretending to be a barista, so you could spy on him? The shiver wasn’t necessarily unpleasant… just unfamiliar. He didn’t hear much compliments from anyone besides Uraume, and Uraume’s doesn’t count. They compliment him for everything, including the way he breathes. He finds it annoying.

“It’s custom to give your own name when someone else has graced you with theirs.” He grunted, coming off much more gruff than he intended. He just wanted to know your name.

“Oh…” Your voice was soft, and you gaze away from the behemoth in your lobby. Was this some sort of trick? Some old myths and legends say that a name holds power. Would he be able to kill you if he knew your name?? You glance back over at him, noting his large muscled and incredibly toned chest that his kimono didn’t bother hiding. He was so fucking big. Your thoughts were completely baseless. If he wanted to kill you, he simply just could — regardless of knowing your name. “It’s yn.” You finally answer.

Sukuna nodded. “That’s a good name.” He realized that his compliment didn’t sound as personable as yours. It’s his first time though… He’s sure that he’ll figure it out.

“Thank you..” You respond as you started to contemplate what exactly your life had come to. You were having a semi-pleasant interaction with a monster at your job… Do you get paid enough to deal with this? “So… Ryomen, what can I get for you?”

Sukuna felt another shiver. He liked hearing your voice say his name. He wanted to hear it again and again. He wanted his name to fall from your lips like a mantra as he made love to you.

Shaking away those pestering thoughts, he finally gets to the task at hand. “Yes.. what is this.. coffee that you mortals speak of..?”

Oh boy.

*** *** ***

After explaining to the very skeptical monster what coffee was, you served him a cup with very little milk and sugar. Sukuna was delighted by the taste, and he was delighted with your company.

He made it apart of his routine. He woke up, took care of himself, got dressed in whatever Uraume had picked out from his closet, and he set forth to your coffee shop, where he’d hang around for hours — scaring away every potential customer.

He asked you all sorts of things, and you two got to know each other better. It was an unlikely bond.

It took him forever to finally kiss you. Scared of running off his one and only human companion — his first chance of living the slow life, he wanted to make sure you absolutely were ready and wanted that sort of relationship with him.

It led to some rather funny moments of you trying to kiss him, him getting confused and flustered, leaving you to feel rejected.

But when he finally did kiss you, Sukuna felt a sort of hunger that he hadn’t felt in his years of living. Sure, he has had sex before, mostly out of sheer boredom. Immortality isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.

But this, this was different. This was lust, longing, yearning. He wanted to make you feel good. He needed to show you how… happy you make him.

He had you sat upon his lap as he chased your lips with feverish kisses. Today would be the day. He’s going to finally indulge himself in your warm embrace and allow himself to enjoy on of the most human of pleasures: connection.

His hands were slowly rubbing your hips — trailing them up and down, feeling the beautiful curvature of your body. He loved every ditch and mound. He loved how you just fit against him.

His hands finally take a chance, and he slips them underneath your shirt. The skin-on-skin contact is nearly dizzying, and he feels almost embarrassed for letting a little bit of steamy foreplay get him so riled up. He can’t help it though, not when your lips taste so sweet.

Your shirt is promptly slipped up over your head, and he discards it to the side. His oversized palms slide up your tummy to your chest where he carefully grasped at your breast, groaning into your mouth as he feels the fullness and weight in his hand.

Though, despite his lust clouded brain, he didn’t miss the way your stomach flexed and tensed under his touch. Assuming you were just a big ticklish, he decided to ignore it.

His lips trail down to your neck, where he’s making mark after mark on you. Every mortal who dared to step foot in that coffee shop should know you’re not on the menu.

“Ryo.” You gasp his name so sweetly while your jaw tilts back ever so slightly. He’s never been a witness to something so pretty and pure.

His teeth go to nip at your neck, and his hands slide to your back, so he can free you from this contraption that dares to keep your beautiful breasts from his reach.

After a moment of trial and error (and a small giggle from you), Sukuna finally unclasps your bra, and his mouth waters when he’s graced with the sight.

He doesn’t take a moment for granted. Living the slow life would need to wait for a moment while he chases this euphoric feeling you give him.

His hand rests underneath the globe, and he flicks his tongue out over your nipple. For a moment, he wonders if his ministrations are more for you or him. His answer comes to him in the form of a breathy whine from you.

Clasping his mouth over the swollen bud, he uses his hand to toy with your other one. Your hands are entangled in his hair, weakly tugging as you let out those frantic whines.

He switches sides, paying an equal amount of attention to your other breast. He’s subtly experimenting with your body, trying to determine which of his tongue movements do you like the best based off the sounds that fall from your lips.

Licking and gentle sucks seem to be the winner. Personally, Sukuna would like to try biting, but you had let out this pained hiss when he tried. He quickly went back to his more gentle, loving licks.

By this time, his cocks were throbbing in agony. He can’t remember a time where he’s been this hard and hadn’t already decided to promptly handle it himself.

His hands fall to the waistband of your legging that hug around your hips, and he notices you tensing and arching away from his touch once more. He pulls away from your nipple with an obscene ‘pop’.

“Do you have a secret wound that you are not telling me about?” He finally prompts you, hands moving to your back where you seem more comfortable with him touching.

You shift just a bit in his lap from the sudden discomfort of the conversation. You figured this would come up at some point, but you didn’t know how he was going to handle it. Debating on lying to him and saying you are wounded, you actually end up deciding to tell the truth.

“It’s not that. I just…” Your eyes try to find anything else in the room other than him to focus on. “… don’t know if I am ready for you to see me like this.”

Sukuna’s face relaxes, and he sits up to eye you. “That’s an interesting choice of words, princess.” He casually notes before his hands go back to idly rubbing on your waist. “If you’d like to stop, you can just come out and say that. I think I can surprise you with my patience.”

You give him a small appreciative smile. Despite the coldness of his sharp facial features, Sukuna can say somethings that just instantly warm you to him. “It’s not that I don’t want this because I really do… Can we.. just maybe turn the light off when we…?”

His eyebrows furrow. If you wanted this, why did you seem so cautious. Then, it hits him. It must be his face and extra appendages. With the lights off, you can pretend that he’s another mortal man… that is very large and muscular.

“I don’t think dimming the lights will erase an extra set of eyes and arms, but I will do it to ease your worries, princess.”

Your eyes widen, realizing Sukuna had taken your request the entirely wrong way. “What-? Nononono- I don’t want to hide you.” You quickly scramble to get the words out, and Sukuna seems surprised when you cup his jaw so lovingly. “You’re perfect. I’m trying to hide myself from you.”

Sukuna blinks a few times, taken aback by your admission. “Why would you punish me that way?” He asks, not able to fathom why you would hide the most perfect thing he’s ever seen from him.

You’re rendered completely silent. Truthfully, you know why you don’t want him seeing you naked. You’ve seen the sight before… the purple and blue stretch marks that litter your lower tummy and inner thighs. You don’t want to tell him what’s making you so shy to the idea because then he’ll only notice it more. Plus, anytime you’re honest with yourself about the insecure thoughts, it feels like you’re one of those girls who fish for compliments.

Sukuna, while not very emotionally intelligent, is able to see the emotional turmoil you’re going through. His hands slowly move from your hips to your cheeks, and he holds your face to maintain eye contact with you.

“Do you know how long I’ve been alive?” He asks. His tone is warm and even. His red ochre eyes resting upon yours.

“No, I don’t.” You answer truthfully. You knew he was immortal, and he had lived a long life already. You just didn’t know how long that was.

His thumb tenderly strokes your cheek as he admires you. “I’m older than soap.” He quietly laughs. “I promise you… I have seen some things that you couldn’t fathom. Across all my time on this horrible planet, I have been with curses and mortals alike, and trust me mortal women put curses to shame when it comes to what’s downstairs.”

You let out an appreciative laugh, easing up in his lap. His lips crack into a small smile — glad he’s able to provide you with some comfort.

His hands engulf your cheeks. “You are the prettiest thing these hands have ever touched. Nothing about you could turn my gaze away. You have my word.”

“Besides, I think you may be a bit more put off by what my clothes are hiding.” He adds, piquing your curiosity.

“Oh? Is that right?” You ask with a cheeky smile that makes Sukuna’s chest feel all warm.

“If you’d like..” His voice feels like velvet across your skin. He speaks in a purr. “I can show you.”

Your mind goes completely blank, but you nod slowly, encouraged by his words. His lips reconnect with your neck, kissing right below your ear, and he moves his hands to your hips, guiding your movements to slowly grind against him.

You’re able to feel just how well endowed he is through the thin fabric of your leggings and panties. Every inch slides against you — rubbing and bumping against you in just the right way.

It quickly derails into another needy makeout session — as if you two are horny teenagers chasing each other’s lips.

This time, Sukuna undoes his own robes first. His philosophy is that once you see that he has two cocks instead of one, you’ll feel comfortable enough showing whatever you’re so afraid of.

Your eyes widen, and your head tilts a bit, causing Sukuna to chuckle. “Told ya I would win.” He smirked proudly.

“How am I…?” Your voice trailed off, not even knowing what to say — too embarrassed to ask how you’re suppose to take all that.

“Slowly and with a lot of prep.” He gives you a toothy grin, showing off his fangs. “Now…” His hands slowly dipped back down to your hips and the waistband of your leggings.

You tense up involuntarily, but you nod slowly, giving him permission. Sukuna lifts you off his lap, and he carefully lies you on your back against his bed — treating you like you’re fragile.

Once your leggings are discarded, your eyes avoid his — too scared of what he’d might think. You don’t even look down to see what you look like in this position, knowing you’d just end up turning yourself off if you saw the marks on your thighs and tummy.

Sukuna’s eyes rest upon your pretty cotton panties that are soaked and sticking to your cunt. His mouth waters from the sight, and he tests his luck, slowly removing your panties from your body.

Your pussy looks even more delicious than he could’ve imagined. His cock literally twitches from the sight before he gets on his knees at the edge of the bed, and he pulls you by your hips down to where he can get a good smell of your arousal.

He groans from your scent, imagining just what you’re going to taste like on his tongue. He wonders if you’re more of a moaner or a crier, but he snaps his thoughts back to your earlier hesitancy.

“What was there to be nervous about, princess?” He asks as his fingers can’t resist touching you. He teases your clit gently as he waits for an answer.

“I-“ You stifle a small whimper as you feel his fingers graze against you gently. After a beat of silence, you finally speak back up again. “It’s just… the stretch marks.” You mumble quietly.

Sukuna furrows his brow, and he looks down to where your inner thighs are, and he looks at your tummy. “What about them?” He bluntly asks.

You shift uncomfortably, wishing you could wipe his memory of it entirely. “I just don’t like how they look is all.”

Sukuna’s thumb slowly applies pressure to your clit, and he starts to rub in loose circles. “That’s stupid. Everyone has them.” He replies bluntly, his more rough around the edges nature coming out as he listened to you.

A small muffled whine comes from your lips, and you arch your back as you feel his ministrations. “What?” You ask, not able to grasp what he’s saying.

Sukuna smirks as he sees you start to lose track of the conversation. He leans into your cunt before letting out a warm puff of air from his mouth. He loves watching how your entrance tries to clench around nothing. It’s cute seeing how your soaking wet pussy thinks it’ ready for him.

“I said that’s dumb. Everyone had stretch marks. It’s a part of growth.” He reasserts as he looks back up at you.

“You clearly haven’t seen girls on the internet.” You mutter, but your attitude is quickly dispelled whenever Sukuna lightly spanks your cunt, causing for a wet slapping noise.

“No. I haven’t. I have no interest in looking at something fake.” His eyes glare at you before he leans in and gives your swollen clit a kiss. His tongue darts out, and he laps at your puffy folds. A groan escapes from his mouth from your taste, gently vibrating against your cunt before pulling away and returning his thumb to your clit. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed over such trivial things. The marks just show that you have grown, and everyone grows. That’s it.”

You try to think of a rebuttal, but your mind is so cloudy with lust that you can’t think of one. Your hips lift from the bed with a small whine — no longer wishing to focus on your insecurities. You even look down, not caring if you’re going to see the stretch marks. Your eyes meet his, and you give him a pitiful gaze.

Sukuna instantly chuckles as he knows what you’re wanting. “We’ll come back to this, princess.” He hums before he dives back in, gently kissing and suckling on your clit. If his eyes weren’t closed, he’s sure they’d roll back into his head from how sweet you taste.

When he feels your hands grabbing onto his hair, he lets out a small smug laugh before lapping at your cunt with his tongue. The wet sticky noises fill the room along with your moans and whines.

Sukuna begins to wish that he was blessed with two tongues like he was given two of every thing else, and that’s when he remembers…

His mouth is focused on your clit, licking, swirling his tongue around, gently kissing. He brings his hand below his jaw, and he presses it against your opening.

You’re briefly confused, but you don’t question him since he’s making you feel this damn good with his mouth. Your confusion is quickly whisked away when you feel a second tongue delving deep inside you.

“Fuck-!” You moan before quickly jerking your hips up, but his other set of hands holds your waist down while he enjoys his meal.

Sukuna’s such a genius. With this technique, he can make you feel twice as good, which means you get twice as wet.

His tongues work together, lapping and plunging to drink the most nectar from you. Your poor thighs are already shaking, and you’re a squirmy thing when you’re getting close.

Sukuna doesn’t seem to mind though. He’s so lost in your perfect cunt that anything besides the word “stop” would fly right over his head.

“K-Kuna… mmnnf! I’m gonna…. ah, gonna cum.” You warn, feeling that pit tightening in your stomach. He pulls you down onto his mouths harder, frantically devouring you as he hasn’t had his fill yet.

“Cum for me.” His words are deep and raw with desire. He pulses his hand tongue in and out of you quickly until he feels the way your sloppy walls constrict around him, making small squelching noises as you find your orgasm.

“Fuck-! Shiiiit~” You whine as your hips try to lift up, trying to escape all of the stimulation.

“Thaaat’s it.” He purrs as he watches his hand mouth do all the work. His chin is absolutely covered in your juices but he doesn’t seem to mind.

When your body relaxes, and you’re panting against his bed, Sukuna promptly removes his hand mouth before plunging two fingers deep inside your wet heat.

His fingers are so thick and long. He’s literally a monster. Taking two of his fingers is like taking four of your own. The stretch burns but in the best way possible.

“Ah-! W-wait.. too much!” You whimper, leaning your head back with a quiet hiss.

“Really? I think you can handle it.” Sukuna taunts with a small smirk before carefully pumping his fingers in and out. Your pussy is still so soaked, fluttering around his fingers to cause wet mushy noises. “I’d say she’s enjoying it.” He adds with a smug grin, referring to how noisy your cunt is.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you try to cope with how sensitive you are right after finishing so hard on his hand and mouth, but your eyes snap right back open when you feel his oversized palm grab onto your chin.

“Ah, ah, I want you to look at me, pretty girl.” He teases with a toothy grin. “Look at who you’re letting get you off.”

“Fuck..” You whimper as you try to lean up to kiss him, but Sukuna leans back and rejects you. He’s still such an asshole.

“You’re not getting out of looking at me.” His fingers start to piston harder, curling upwards until his bumps against that special spot that makes you see stars.

Your eyes cross as you grab at the sheets. No one had ever made you feel this good, not even you could when you touch yourself.

Sukuna’s just content drawing orgasm after orgasm. He loves watching you let go of all that worry you had, letting you focus on some of your most primal desires, and it does things to him knowing that you’re comfortable to do this with him — comfortable letting him see this side of you.

His cocks are still rock hard, pressed against his stomach as he feels how tight you are wrapped around his fingers. “You’re going to feel so good wrapped around my cock.” His voice is a low growl, fingering you harder as he thinks about what it’s going to be like to finally fuck you.

Your pussy is sobbing all over his fingers, damn near coating his hand in your arousal. He’s bullying your g-spot again and again, fucking directly into it to make you whine and cry out in pleasure.

“Yeah? You like that idea? How badly do you want me to fuck you?” He taunts, feeling the way your walls are constricting around his fingers. He can tell you’re getting close again.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, throwing your head back against the mattress. Your skin feels like it’s vibrating as your pleasure starts to build once more.

“That’s not an answer.” Sukuna’s other hand swats at your bottom, causing for a slapping noise to echo in rhe room.

“Badly! B-badly… please fuck me. Please!” You whine as you’re on the brink of an orgasm.

Sukuna’s fast. He removes his fingers, but before you have time to react, one of his cocks is sliding in, replacing that empty feeling.

Even with all that prep, it’s a tight squeeze, making even Sukuna growl. “Fuck. How can you be this tight?” His hands grab onto your hips as he buries himself to the hilt.

Your back is arching off the bed, letting out silent screams that come out as whiny mewls. The stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Your spongy walls start to clench around him, pulsing as another orgasm is pulled from you.

Sukuna’s stuck in an awkward position as he’s too tall to fuck like this, besides he doesn’t want to move to ruin your orgasm, so he stays leaning over you as your body comes undone beneath him.

“Beautiful.” He groans, admiring your raw beauty as you cum on his cock. He’s truly never seen anything like it. You’re such a beautiful mess.

Your breath is shaky as you slowly come down. Sukuna sits patiently waiting for you to calm. His hips are beckoning to move, but he sits still, letting you get use to the feeling of being so full.

“Ah… hah.. fuck.. s’kuna..” Your voice is breathy, filled with utter need that makes his cock twitch inside you.

“Up you go.” He murmurs as he wraps his monstrous arms around you, lifting your body with absolute ease. He’s able to maintain full control over your body as he eases you down onto his cock carefully.

Your body is shaky, and covered in a sheen of sweat as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging his body to yours closely. You two are connected in every way.

His lips press sweet kisses to your cheek and neck, gently nipping at your skin to give him something to focus on so he doesn’t absolutely ruin your cunt immediately.

It doesn’t take long before you’re squirming in his arms, trying to get whatever friction you can out of him. He chuckles lowly, “Careful princess. Don’t hurt yourself.” He purrs directly into your ear, breath brushing against you.

He slowly picks you up, until just his tip remained inside, plugging your tight cunt before he lowers you back down onto him like you weigh nothing.

“Mmm fuck… such a perfect cunt.” He growls before picking you up once more and lowering you back down. He loves the way your soft body feels against his, and you’re so warm. It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.

“Goood girl..” He praises in a soft whisper. He’s not use to giving out compliments still… but he’s getting better. He’s been learning by watching your reactions, and this is by far the one that makes you blush the most.

“Mmph~ Kuna… so deep..” You whimper into his neck. He continues to move you up and down his cock, using you like a perfect little fleshlight.

The sound of wet squelches and clapping stays consistent throughout the room, and his other cock throbs from neglect - a pearl of pre-cum leaking out.

“Gotta give both of them attention, baby. I’m greedy.” He growls before slides all the way out of you, and he pushes his other cock inside instead.

They feel almost identical, except with different curvature. He was a little more forceful now, jerking your body up and down his length aggressively.

Your clit rubs against his pelvis, creating for the perfect friction. You grip at his shoulders, squeezing your eyes shut as it’s all just so much.

Your thighs were trembling, and you let out every cry of pleasure that bubbled in your throat. No way to try to gain any control in this situation — you’re forced to just take it and cope with the stimulation.

Sukuna grunts and growls with each thrust. One of his other hands that aren’t holding you up reaches up to grasp your hair, and he pulls it back — forcing you to look him in the eye while he fills you so full again and again.

Your mewls and cries only fuel the more primal side to him. His mind is cloudy — chasing that high, wanting to spill himself so deep inside you that you feel him for days to come.

He yanks your hips up, and he takes a moment before he carefully sinks you back down on both his cocks. Both of them are slick from your arousal, but you’re still so tight.

“S’kuna~! Wait- nnngh… fuck I can’t!” You cry out, holding his gaze with bleary eyes from overstimulated tears.

“Shhh.. you can take it.” He mumbles lowly. “You wanna make me proud, don’t you? Take it…”

It feels like he’s splitting you apart while he tries to push deeper. Your entire body is trembling against him, let out pained whimpers as well as pleasurable cries because the stretch feels so good.

He gives your poor cunt just a moment to adjust before he starts bouncing you along both his cocks. The way your drooling cunt clenches around him, smushing his cocks together while he ruts upwards into you, making him grunt with pleasure.

You’re a whimpering mess in his arms, already embarrassingly close to your third orgasm while both his cocks are kissing your cervix so deeply — both leaking with an unnatural amount of pre-cum to make sure your pussy stays nice and lubricated for them.

His hand pulls your hair again, forcing your eyes back up at him. “Look at me.” He growls in a demanding tone, “Look at me while I breed this cunt.”

All 5 of his red eyes focus on you — completely enamored by your beauty. Lost in the haze and heat, only a couple words could fall from his lips. “So pretty…”

As if on cue, he feels your gummy walls squeeze around him, and tears fall from your eyes as your brought into another soul-crashing orgasm. His hands continue to bounce you up and down, riding you through your orgasm before he pushes himself in so deep. He swears he can feel your womb.

Both of his cocks pulse inside you, pumping your abused cunt so full of cum that it seeps from the edges of your entrance while he’s still plugging you.

“Oh gods-! F-fuck…” You whimper as it’s so hot. Like, it’s genuinely so warm in your pussy — you’re almost worried. “Why..” You manage to pant out, trying to ask him why it feels like that.

“Shh.. shh.. I have no explanation for you, princess. It just feels that way.” He speaks lowly as he slowly sits on the bed, still holding your body in his lap.

He presses a tender kiss to your forehead, and he feels your heart beat against his flesh. As he holds you to him, he wonders that if he had a heart, would it be in sync with yours? Would you two beat as one?

[aewon]

ENHYPEN WHEN YOU…put your hands in their back pockets

pairing ✧ enhypen x f!reader g: fluff warnings: kissing, cussing, pet names, pda, groping, implied shorter reader in sunghoon’s ✧ note: inspired by the no doubt choreo !

LEE HEESEUNG

you’re sitting in enha’s practice room, watching them practice no doubt’s choreo. their choreographer calls for a break and they immediately disperse. heeseung turns towards you and open his arms, wanting a hug.

who are you to deny him? you make your way to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. he sighs in content, resting his head on your shoulder. you decide to be sneaky and slowly drift your hands downwards until they’re snug in his back pockets. you hear him giggle but he doesn’t pull away, “what are you doing?”

“nothing,” you say, deciding to play with him by squeezing his butt, making him let out a curse.

“shit!”

you laugh as he pulls back, looking at you incredulously.

“you are such a menace,” he says, but he doesn’t hesitate to return the favor, making you squeal.

PARK JONGSEONG

you’re in your shared apartment, laying on the couch while jay lays on top of you. your arms are wrapped around him, holding close to you.

an idea pops into your head, and you put it into action, sliding your hands down into his back pockets.

“why are you touching my ass?” you know he’s not mad, just curious by his tone.

“it’s a nice ass, can’t help but wanna touch it,” you end your words with a firm slap to his ass. jay yelps, looking at you with his annoyed face.

“that’s not nice,” he says, but you can see a hint of a laugh behind his lips.

he wastes no time in getting up and turning you around on the couch, giving your ass the same treatment. except he hits harder, with his large palms making it burn slightly.

“ouch! i didn’t hit yours that hard!”

“don’t hate the player, hate the game.” he continues to smirk while you pout, having been outplayed.

SIM JAEYUN

you and jake are standing in line for ice cream at the park. you’re standing behind him while he mindlessly scrolls through his phone.

you decide to be mischievous and put your hands in his back pockets, the position somewhat awkward but you couldn’t care less.

you can’t see it, but you can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he speaks, “you just love touching me don’t you?”

you hum, not moving your hands even as the line moves forward. you and jake don’t really care about pda or people seeing you in public. of course, you’re not animals, so you don’t take it too far but things like this don’t bother you or him.

“baby, what exactly is the point of this?” he asks, turning his head to look behind himself at you. you shrug, leaning into his back before taking his butt into your hands and squeezing hard. he jumps, almost comically, as you laugh quietly, trying not to bring too much attention to yourselves.

“you are so annoying! you’re gonna bruise it!”

you coo, mocking his whiney tone before rubbing it gently to fend off any oncoming injury. “better?” you ask and he hmphs, turning back around. you kiss his cheek apologetically, which makes him smile.

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon is very sensitive about touch. he doesn’t really like pda but he doesn’t dislike touch as long as it’s private.

you and the enhypen members are hanging out in your apartment. jay has chosen to cook to everyone’s delight. sunghoon is standing by the entrance, watching the tv with everyone else who’s situated on the couches.

you come up to him, looking at him with a pout.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, genuinely concerned. you do nothing but hold your arms out, indicating you want a hug. sunghoon hesitates for a second because he doesn’t like pda, even in front of his members, but one look into your eyes and he’s cooked.

he wraps his arms around you, you doing the same, hugging him tightly. he rests his chin on your head and sighs softly. he could never deny you. without him realizing, your sneaky hands make their way down, down into his back jean pockets.

sunghoon doesn’t even move, either he’s oblivious or he’s ignoring it for your sake, and his. what he doesn’t expect is for you to take his butt into your hands and squeeze, hard.

he jerks forward, taking you by the arms and pulling you away from him. he looks a mix between stunned and annoyed. you start to giggle, making grabby hands at him like you’re gonna do it again but he grabs them, now smiling.

“don’t even think about it, what’s wrong with you?” he asks quietly, not trying to alert the members.

you just stare up at him before surprising him again with a kiss to his lips.

“aww look at the happy couple, i got that whole thing on video by the way,” riki says from his seat on the couch. the other members begin to crowd him, even jay coming from the kitchen after hearing the commotion.

sunghoon breaks away from you, running over to try and wrestle the phone from riki’s hands while you laugh and watch.

KIM SUNOO

you and sunoo are very affectionate with one another, never hesitating to plant kisses on each others lips or cheeks, hug or anything else.

he’s standing in front of your full length mirror, getting ready to go out while you wait for him. as you come to stand behind him, you put your hands into his back pockets. he looks at you through the glass and smiles.

“whatcha doin?” he asks, though he doesn’t make any move to stop you.

“touching my favorite part of you,” you say, laughing as he gaps in offense.

“tuh, and here and i thought it was my personality!”

“that and your ass, i love it.” with that you take your hands out and give his ass a rough slap.

he swears, looking at you with wide eyes.

“okay, you’re done. no more ass privileges for you,” he says, dragging you around so you’re standing in front of him instead of behind.

you begin to whine, apologizing and saying you won’t do it again.

“that’s a damn lie and you know it.”

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon has brought you along to the recording studio while they prepare for their next album. you’re standing in front of him, his arm wrapped around you. you turn around in his arms, smiling at him, “you sound great babe.”

“thank you,” he says, bringing you in for a hug.

you hands rub his back up and down, before making their way lower and lower until they’re hovering over his ass. without warning you put your hands into his back pockets, and squeeze almost violently.

he jumps away from you, looking at you in pure shock. “what the fuck!” he says, laughing, “don’t touch my butt!”

“why?” you cock your head to the side, “i can’t touch what’s mine?” you ask in a questioning tone. he looks at you in disbelief.

“excuse me, it’s not yours.”

“yes it is, what’s yours is mine,” you say, smiling at him.

“oh really?” he raises an eyebrow, “so if that’s the case, what’s yours is mine?” you think he’s gonna go for your ass and bring your hands around to protect it but without hesitation his hands go for your front, squeezing your chest.

you gasp scandalously, “jungwon!”

he just smirks at you, “what’s yours is mine.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

you and riki have been dating for a few months now but haven’t really escalated to touching each other frequently. whether it comes to kisses or hugs, you’re still a bit awkward with one another.

you’ve decided to take your relationship up a notch in hopes he won’t oppose you.

today finds you with riki, alone in the dance studio as he practices their choreo. you watch him in amazement. how his body moves, its miraculous and you’re mesmerized.

he pauses the music, coming to stand in front of you, “so what do you think?”

“i think it’s amazing, you’re amazing,” you say.

you know riki likes compliments, he just doesn’t like to show it. he waves his hand, like it’s no big deal but you stand up and open your arms, “hug.”

“i’m sweaty,” he says, “you don’t wanna hug me.”

you shake your head, “don’t care, hug me!”

he can’t deny you, so he moves forward to wrap you in his arms. you rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. your hands make their way down, before finding comfort in his back pockets.

“oh?” he says in a questioning voice, “didn’t know we were at this point in our relationship.”

“can’t help it, i like being close to you.”

“and being close means touching my butt?” you know he’s not annoyed or angry because he’s laughing, so you hum in confirmation. without warning his own hands slide down to cup your own butt.

“now we’re even,” he says, grunting and laughing as you playfully squeeze his ass. and he doesn’t hesitate to do it back.

© AEWON 2024

[mywhisperingwords]

these three little words | fred g. weasley

summary: four times fred told you he loved you and one time he truly meant it word count: 3.6k masterlist

“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

Fred put a hand on his heart while saying, “You wound me greatly.”

Rolling your eyes, you kept walking, leaving him behind, “And yet you are still alive and well just to annoy me.”

Behind you, you could hear him snickering to himself before he caught up with you.

“Just you, my darling,” he told you, putting his arm around your shoulder, “besides, all I said was that your sudden interest in Potions was quite suspicious. For some unknown reason I doubt that you do it for George and me.”

He put his mouth close to your ear, his hot breath tickling your cheek and the sudden closeness made it hard for you to comprehend the next words he whispered, “One might wonder if some specific professor has anything to do with that.”

It took you a moment, but you finally realized what he meant.

“Are you seriously accusing me of fancying Snape? Snape of all people? Sickening,” you shouted as you pushed him away from you with a revolted expression. “That thought alone makes me want to throw up in your face.”

“Now, now, don’t be so vulgar. Snape is awkwardly handsome, quite old and wise. Maybe he could teach you some things,” he started winking suggestively at you before breaking in a laughing fit.

All you could was stare at him, horrified by the idea alone.

This whole conversation only sparked because you mentioned your study’s that were related to potion making. Which you only took up, to help out with new creations in relation to Fred, and George, of course.

Maybe he wasn’t that far off with the whole fancying idea, he just confused the person you fancied.

“Do you hear that?” he asked abruptly, a serious look on his face, that made your stomach twist in an uncomfortable way.

“What?” you asked, still annoyed but also a bit nervous. You weren’t that far away from the forbidden forest and you never knew what kind of creatures were luring in the shadows.

“I thought I heard,” he paused for a moment, suspension rising, “wedding bells.”

“Merlin, you’re a git,” you moaned.

You swiftly turned away from him and crossed your arms, more annoyed with him and his stupid jokes. Quickly you started walking, trying to get away from him.

Maybe it was your attitude or maybe he just realized that you were done with his jokes at the moment but he immediately went after you.

When he caught up with, he again put his arm on your shoulder, before saying, “Aw, come on. You know I was just joking.”

Ignoring him, you kept on walking in the direction of the castle. You weren’t bothered by his jokes, not really. It’s Fred you’re talking about here, he does not mean any harm — at least not to you.

You were also not upset by his little scare, or maybe a little bit. To be honest, you were not quite sure why you were so agitated currently.

Maybe it was the fact that you spent your free time studying, just for him, and George of course. But mostly for Fred. And all he could do is make a mockery out of it just so he doesn’t have to deal with real feelings.

Because you knew, that he was overwhelmed when you told him your studies were a way of helping him and George with their products. Fred wasn’t someone who asked for help, he’d rather deal with his problems on his own. But he also knew that accepting offered help wasn’t a weakness, especially when it came from you.

You recognized it in the way he got quiet for a moment, avoiding looking at you, his cheeks turning a shade of pink, before starting to joke around.

It was a typical Fred reaction.

“Don’t be like that, darling. I love you, don’t ignore me,” he murmured, pressing his lips against the side of your head.

Sometimes you wondered if he knew, when he said things like that but you were aware of the fact that he only saw you as a friend—he had made that clear numerous times.

“I’ll stop ignoring you if you stop joking about me and Snape,” you told him.

He held up his hands in surrender, “Deal.” Grinning at you, he linked his arm with yours, continuing the way up the hill towards the castle.

After a beat of silence, he interrupted it by saying, “But be honest with me, you fancy him at least a tiny bit, right?”

This time, when you pushed him away, you couldn’t help yourself and let out a laugh at his stupid joke.

&

Nights like these were your favorite.

Sitting in Gryffindor common room that was buzzing with conversation, around the fireplace with the people who felt like home to you, and Fred, who was so much more.

All the jokes, the laughter and the love that was shared between you made it sometimes difficult to deem this your life—it felt too good to be true.

Angelina was just retelling the story of how her newest fling asked her out, right after he won his quidditch game. The whole school witnessed that slightly awkward scene, but Angelina was head over heels about this public display of affection.

You could see that George was not so fond of these news, he was averting his gaze and seemed to obviously be more than annoyed at Angelina’s pawning about this handsome Hufflepuff boy.

If only George would tell her how he felt, but who were you to judge, considering you could not even tell your best friend about your feelings.

George’s behavior seemed to be obvious to anyone but Angelina, but Lee was the one to finally put George out of his misery and interrupt her speech, “I can’t even fathom what rid that guy to do all that in public.”

Angelina rolled her eyes, while everyone else laughed. “Maybe the fact that he knows what a woman wants?” she said, raising her eyebrow at you, clearly looking for support on this matter.

But you were the wrong one to address, because you couldn’t imagine anything more horrifying than somebody confessing their love for you in front of everyone.

“I understand that you like that kind of thing, but me personally, I think I would die of embarrassment. I don’t want my love to be so out in the open, at the end of the day it’s only between me and that person,” you told her, giving her an apologetic smile.

While trying to convey your thoughts on that matter, you couldn’t help yourself but let your mind wander to the person you always thought about these days it felt like.

Fred was sitting right next to you, but he was not his usual loud and joking self. There was something weighing on his mind and you wished you could just crawl inside it to find out what was wrong.

But you could not, so all you could do was lean to his side and quietly ask him, “Are you alright?”

Your words seemed to have pulled him out of his thoughts, because his eyes locked on yours, he was quiet for a moment, taking his time to think about his answer. He seemed to find it in your face, because he slowly began to grin before jumping out of his seat, interrupting George who was just talking enthusiastically.

Even with everyone’s eyes on him, he seemed to have only eyes for you.

“Oh, dearest lady of mine heart!” he exclaimed, striding toward you with a grand sweep of his arm. The room fell silent, a few chuckles escaping from his friends as he carried on with exaggerated passion.

He took your hand, eyes glinting with mischief as he dropped to one knee. “Thou art as radiant as the morning sun that doth chase away the drear of night,” he intoned, voice dramatic and thick with feigned longing. “Might I but win a single glance of thy affection, my soul would soar higher than the castle towers!”

You bit back a grin, feeling your cheeks heat up as everyone laughed, watching Fred carry on his theatrical performance.

He leaned in, lowering his voice just a touch. “Ah, fair lady, dost thou know what torment ‘tis to sit beside thee, with no claim upon thy heart?” His tone softened, eyes suddenly more serious than playful. “For, alas, thou hast bewitched me in ways I can scarce confess.”

Someone whistled, and George called out, “Go on, Freddie! Pour your heart out!”

With a smirk, Fred straightened and gave a bow. “Then, my fair one, grant me but a single smile, and I shall know all is well with my heart—for it beats for thee alone.”

&

You were staring holes into the ceiling, wide awake.

That wasn’t a rarity these days.

The impending war was hanging over your head, the uncertainty these days was keeping you up most nights nowadays. Never knowing if the next day would arrive with word of the beginning of the end.

You were staying at the Burrow, a house that has always felt like a safe place, a second home, to you. Lately it didn’t feel as secure as it used to, only the people occupying the space giving it the feeling of a home.

People were scared and though you tried not to show it, you were too.

Sleep was not going to come, you were sure of that. It has come worse and worse in the last few weeks.

That was the reason for why you would spend most nights in at the porch, looking out at the trees until the sun would rise and the rest of the house would wake up.

Some nights Fred would catch you up, not being able to rest himself, so he’d keep you company for a while, until sooner or later falling asleep on the floor next to you.

He would sometimes try to lighten the mood, trying to get you to laugh. Trying to put a smile on your lips, to make these times feel less daunting. And other times he would just sit in silence next to you, watching the sunrise. That’s when you would know that even Fred himself was struggling with being hopeful.

But you would never talk about it, because that would mean that this was real. The possibility of death and loss might not just be that — a possibility.

This night was different than the others and you couldn’t quite pinpoint why that was.

Maybe the reason was, that Fred was already out of bed. Normally you would be the first to come downstairs and he would soon after follow. Sometimes you would swear that he would just listen for your footsteps down the hallway, before he would emerge from his room.

This time when you walked down the stairs, you saw that the side door was slightly open.

When you walked by the kitchen window, you could see Fred sitting outside, staring at the night sky.

He did not acknowledge your presence when you took a seat next to him. All he did was continue to stare at the stars that shone so brightly, even in times like these, looking deep in thought.

After a few minutes of silence, his quiet question was a startling reminder that this fight was taking a constant toll on everyone, even the ones filled with happiness.

“Don’t you wish that it would all just end?”

You did not expect a question like this from him, the one person in this world that always had a hopeless optimism, no matter how bad things looked, he was the one that always said that things can only get better, even with a dagger in his heart.

There was no answer, that you could give him. At least not one, that he did not already know himself.

After a long moment of silence, where you admired the clear night-sky, you told him in a soft voice, “The stars are beautiful tonight.”

“Yes, yes they are,” he agreed, but when you looked over at him, his gaze wasn’t directed towards the sky, no, it was directed at you.

All you could do was stare back at him, and listen to the beating of your heart. You swore, if you stopped breathing, you could also pick up the beat of his.

“I love you,” he whispered and the beating of your heart stopped, for only a second, “You’re my best friend.”

How strange it was to feel anything at all.

&

You were bleeding.

A few moments before, you got hit, you think, you couldn’t remember when it happened exactly.

All you could do was to keep going, ignoring the humming pain at your side. The adrenaline pumping in your veins was keeping you from thinking clearly, acknowledging the deep wound.

The one and only thing that was on your mind, was Fred.

Ever since you heard his name leaving someone’s lips, mentioning that he was hurt, severely, all you could do was look for him in every face that laid on the ground. So many bodies, so many souls that have left before their time.

You felt guilty, that every time you did not see his face on any of the bodies, you felt a sense of relief.

With every turn you took, people were trying desperately to make it out alive. It was a miracle that you were even still alive at this point, with the way you were running past Death Eaters without a care in the world.

It was in the Great Hall where you finally found him, sitting on one of the gurneys.

Without a second thought, you ran towards him, engulfing him in your arms, needing to make sure that he was real and not just a figment of your imagination. There was too much demise for you not to consider that you yourself have already passed.

But when Fred put his arms around you and pulled you against his body you knew that this was real, because it hurt like hell. He was pressing against the wound on your side and you were hurting him too, you must be, given the state he was in. But not any of this mattered when you felt so secure in his arms.

“What were you thinking?” you muttered in his neck, not wanting to let go of him, “You could be dead.”

Fred’s ghost of a laugh brushed the skin of your cheek, leaving a haunted touch. His response to your worries was unconcerned, “I’m not.”

His carelessness made you push him from you, turning your head to the side, so he couldn’t catch a glimpse of the tears welling in your eyes when you whispered, “But you could’ve been.”

The realization hit you at once. There was a sudden urge to just scream your soul out, as you acknowledged that there was a possibility that you could not be sitting here with Fred.

But you did not lash out, no, you broke down. The adrenaline rush and the fear of losing Fred was leaving your body at once and you began crying, not being able to hold them in any longer.

There were so many emotions you were feeling in this moment, guilt for not staying with Fred, anger at anyone who harmed him, and panic for everything you have endured to still be alive.

Fred reached out his hand, taking ahold of yours, muttering sweet nothings to you, “I’m okay, hey, I’m okay.” But you wouldn’t hear it, even if his words rang true. The idea of finding a lifeless Fred in the Great Hall was still to raw. All he could do to comfort you, was to hold you, and he did as he continued to whisper, “I’m right here, alive and breathing.”

You heard his words but you did not recognize them, too caught up with sorting through the mess of your mind. But his next words finally got through to you, because he confessed with a low voice and a soft smile, “I love you too much to just leave you like that.”

Only a few moments later, he noticed the blood on your shirt, a fearful expression on his face as he saw your exhausted eyes, yelling out, “I need a healer. Now!”

&

Something shifted between the two of you after the war, you could feel it in the air, almost being able to touch it with your bare hands.

It was in the way he looked at you, like you would vanish the moment he looked away, and the way he touched you, the way he refused to let go of you, like he feared that you might fade away from his life.

As if he wasn’t the one that could’ve almost slipped away from you.

Maybe it was a reassurance to him, to feel that he was still here, alive and breathing.

To you it was torture. Never before has he been so close to you, yet so far. It was cruel, if you were being honest.

You had taken on the responsibility of helping out with the shop, with Fred healing and George being overwhelmed with the workload, it only made sense.

That was at least what you told yourself. The whole truth was, that you too were scared that if you only for a second turned around that he would be gone. That it had all only been a dream, and Fred had not survived the war but had succumbed to his injuries.

But he had.

It was a day like the one before, you sat next to Fred in the office after the shop had closed, looking over some of the paperwork.

You worked in silence next to one another, but all you fixate on was the way his thigh was plastered on your thigh, the way his arm was pressing right into your arm. It was hard to tell where you began and he ended, everything was blended together and you loathed it.

You hated it, because it was everything you ever wanted, but it looked wrong, misshapen.

“When I was talking to George earlier, he asked if you were staying over again, I told him that you were,” he mumbled, not looking up from his work.

That had been another thing that had been creeping into your new everyday without you noticing it at first. You spend most of your time at their flat, only going to yours to get the mail and water your plants, that were slowly rotting away with the amount of times you were actually around to take care of them.

Like so many other things, it had been unspoken. An unspoken agreement between you, that was just there.

Just like it had been unspoken that you would no longer spend the night on the living room sofa and instead on Fred’s bed, when he saw the uncomfortable sleep you would have on that sofa. Which was not completely true, because it wasn’t the sofa keeping you awake, it was the nightmares.

It was a day like this, long ago, when instead of letting you go left to the living room, he gently took your hand and lead you into his room. Neither of you said a word, when you got ready for bed. You just laid down together, taking comfort in one another, while holding onto each other.

You did not talk about, how you slept better together, or how the nightmares were fewer now. That was just another thing that sneaked its way into your everyday routine.

So when you walked up the stairs into his flat, that felt more like home to you than your own home, you did not say anything, because it was just the way things were now.

And you did not say anything, when you two stood in his tiny bathroom and undressed for bed, because it was just the way things were now.

And you did not say anything, when you crawled into his bed, onto your side, because it was just the way things were now.

But when he put his arms around you, and whispered those three words into your ear, like it was just a part of your new normal, you could not keep quiet any longer.

“Don’t say that, please, don’t say that. Not if you don’t mean it,” you whimpered into the darkness of the night.

He tightened his grip on you, whispering “But I do mean it.”

You were shaking, and with a raw throat you told him the truth, “Not in the way I want you to.”

“In what way do you want me to mean it?” he asked, voice soft.

“In every way.”

He put his lips on your neck, “I do, in every way.”

For the first time in, what felt like years, you finally let go. You let go of all that pain you endured over the years, all of the confusion and agonizing fear you felt. Sobbing into the arms of the man that you have loved, long before you even knew what love truly meant.

And all he did, was hold you together, so you could fall apart, continuing to whisper these words in your ear.

[hootbon]

How do you come up with ideas for horror elements in your Freakshow AU?

I'm trying to make a horror au and also I want to make a completely original story too with horror elements and I wanted to know how you come up with ideas since you're one of the best horror creators I've seen

Why thank you, thank you, I think it simply depends on the type of horror you’re going for! Mine is much more psychological as well as some visual. The characters aren’t the most pleasant to the eyes but it isn’t horrific all the time. The au is scary because it presents a possibility, an idea that ‘hey this could very well be real’ and in fact a lot of it is based on real things people go through such as Stockholm syndrome. It’s a near inescapable situation with only one outcome and you know exactly what it is. Funny enough that’s why I do it in the au, it puts these traumas into perspective. You get to experience the horrors they feel too.. of course I’m treading lightly here because I try my best to do research. That said do research!! This is a great form of horror but only if you do it right, it scares the ever loving shit out of people psychologically but make sure you know what you’re doing of course.

Thus, the art of dystopia.. funny enough the original show is a dystopia in its own right, you just won’t notice how scary it really is under all the bright colors and lights. Funny enough all I’ve really done is push Caine’s idea to an extreme, a ringmaster who does what he’s programmed to, to entertain the masses with complete disregard to how any of those masses feel.

Though artistically.. look to a lot of analog horror, I use it a lot to base my drawings off of. Uncanny valley is your best friend because it bothers people, you don’t want to look at your favorite cartoon character with disfigured human eyes now do you? You don’t have to outright jumpscare to get the same affect, unnerving people works all the same. Darkness is also your friend, it’s a natural fear everyone has though often it’s always what lurks in it rather than the dark itself… or also go by my rule,

when in doubt, realistic eyes.

[inkedaway]

What's in a name (Dandadan)

Title: What's in a name?

Notes: People wanted more, so here you go, have more! I'm glad people liked the previous chapter. This one takes Okarun's POV and runs with it. I hope the distinction of thought process makes it through in a coherent manner when he's transformed and you know, not. I'm happy to add more to it, as mentioned - I just need scene ideas to put into chapters. There's no end here, it's just a collection of one shots at this point. If an idea sparks and I wish to explore it, I will gladly add to it. Thanks again guys, feel free to leave ideas if you wish!

Pairing: Momo/Okarun romantic undertones, this is pure fluff

Rating: G (there is one instance of the word Fuck, but... )

Summary:  This wasn't to say he didn't appreciate the nickname she had given him, because he did. It was without a doubt, the first thing genuinely given to him by another person, and he treasured it dearly; it had meaning, power behind it, and whenever anyone called him by it now, it reminded him instantly of her.

Ao3 link: Here

Can also be read under the read more here.

Ken hadn't really given his name much thought before. It was just... a thing, a word imposed on him, and it had never held that much importance. That was, until he'd stumbled across someone that, for whatever reason, hadn't wanted to say it. It had bothered him at the time, and even now, something about her not calling him by it rankled in the back of his mind, somewhere deep, deep down, where he threw all thoughts and emotions he didn't want to inspect too closely.

This wasn't to say he didn't appreciate the nickname she had given him, because he did. It was without a doubt, the first thing genuinely given to him by another person, and he treasured it dearly; it had meaning, power behind it, and whenever anyone called him by it now, it reminded him instantly of her. Not that he needed it to be reminded of her though. Momo Ayase was never far from the forefront of his mind now a days, and he often found himself thinking stray thoughts that had never occurred to him before came along and catapulted herself into his life.

Thoughts like, oh, she'd like this, or oh, she'd absolutely despise this other thing. More than once, he'd found himself squirreling away a shiny rock he'd found that reminded him of her earrings, a small piece of candy with an alien themed wrapper, or even entire magazines on the single notion that she'd like them, and he should thus, of course, present them to her. Never once had he actually gone through it; not once had he actually scrunched up the courage to actually give her the thing he'd secreted away for her, much too self conscious to do so when the notion actually caught up with him. He liked to think it was the intention that matter, and that he just needed a push, and maybe some day soon he'd manage.

Despite what some people thought, Ken was not an idiot; far from it, in his personal opinion. It'd taken him his first journey into her room, back when they were still trying to figure out what to do about Turbo Granny that first day, to realize exactly why she hadn't been able to say his name out loud, and he hadn't taken it out on her. Despite being slightly naive about many things, he wasn't exactly slow, and what he lacked in wisdom, he made up for in other ways. He was, perhaps, not as sharp as Ayase herself in the heat of the moment, but he was no slouch.

Still he'd decided to make no comment on the elephant in the room at the time. He'd not brought it up, and had kept his mouth shut. In a way, he'd come to adopt the nickname like it was his first name, and he'd just felt grateful for it. Even so... it still poked at a small, insecure part of him, deep, deep down in his soul, that she wouldn't say it, even when he didn't want to admit to it out loud.

It was perhaps, some small part of those feelings that slipped through when he was transformed. He couldn't really say.

She'd asked him several times what if felt like when he transformed, and he couldn't quite put it into words correctly. Did he go anywhere? Was it still him in there, fully? Did something else take over? And... no, nothing took over. It was just him, but, maybe... more. It was like his feelings were enhanced, not just his senses, but his actual emotions (and God, what did that say about him, that depression was the one in the wheel house? He didn't really want to poke that thought too much, given what it said about him). He'd noticed he was prone to be much more honest with his feelings and surroundings in that form, like there was no filter between brain and his mouth, and what he felt, he just blurted out.

Emotion fueled that form, at the end of the day.

The first few times he'd slipped into that form unbidden, it had been rage fueling it. Rage unlike anything he'd felt before that had sparked change into existence. He'd never been a particularly angry or argumentative kid; he'd never really fought back against bullies. Has never really tried to, never thought it was worth it to do so. Ken figured it had to be something about Ayase that brought it out of him, because he distinctly recalled clapping back at her several times that day, in a way he'd never thought of doing to his bullies. She'd just been worth it, from the very start.

She'd asked him why he called her by her first name in that form, and truth was, he'd wanted to do so since the first day, honestly, but he'd not been able to. He hadn't hadn't found the courage to do so. Afraid of being inadequate, of just not being enough, and in his defense, this was all just new to him. There wasn't a book to drive him through the very real messy process of actually having a friend.

And again, Ken wasn't stupid. He wasn't an idiot. He may have been awkward, and he may have been new at the whole friendship thing, but he smart enough to have realized after a while that some of the thoughts he held for her were not exactly in the friendship department. He hadn't even begun to untangle that mess, and he wasn't ready to poke and prod at it, but he wasn't stupid. He knew himself at least.

Something about that form however, just seemed to destroy most inhibition, and thus, the name just slipped out, time and time again. It wasn't that he didn't want to say it; he very much did. Ken didn't think he could help it, as much as he couldn't help the strangely spindly arms and anatomy he gained, or his hair from changing color.

It was just a thing, and he'd had to get used to it. It was what it was.

Specially because anger wasn't exactly the only emotion that could trigger a transformation. Fear was just as capable of it as well.

He'd found out the hard way, when a particularly loud sound had crashed through her temple one day when she'd gone outside to fetch something. She'd left him in her room, promising she'd be back as soon as possible, and to make himself comfortable. Ken had sat himself on the floor and had been admiring the organized chaos of the room, and the certain lack of posters he could remember from the first day there, when the sound had caught his attention. Metal like, loud and in his fear hazed mind, entirely out of place.

He'd been up on his feet, transformed and zooming outside her room faster than he'd been able to react or even process thought in a coherent manner. The burst of speed enough that he was outside and in front of her before the sound had even stopped reverberating across the premises. The fear that something had happened while he'd been upstairs and she outside had been visceral, and when he found her looking owlishly at him, with pipes around her (clearly the source of the sound), the relief had been just as visceral, "Momo..."

Demonstrating once more that innate sharpness, the girl took one look at him, and somehow managed to read him in the space of time it too him to process that she was fine, and that they were, in fact, not under attack, "Ah," it was a soft sound of understanding as she took her eyes off of him and turned to look at the pipes scattered on the stone floor at her feet, "Sorry. I noticed them over there, and figured I'd get them moved for grandma behind the main shrine before she had to do so later. They're not heavy for me now, given circumstances," as if to emphasize this, she made a small grabby motion with her hands, and the pipes lifted into the air as if by themselves, "But... I got distracted by something and dropped them, my bad," she left the obvious unsaid; she hadn't meant to scare and startle him, and he was grateful to her for not pointing it out.

"Momoooo..." The gratefulness for her continued safety seeped through him like a cold bath, and he found himself taking a step forward and flopping his head in an almost boneless fashion against her shoulder. His forehead was resting against her body, his posture hunched slightly over her, and by the time he'd done so, he couldn't be arsed to move away; she'd push him away anyways, it didn't matter. Nothing really mattered anyways.

To her credit, rather than do that, after a just a moment, Momo's hand went up and patted the top of his head, "There, there, you big idiot, it's fine, see? Everything's fine," he hadn't told her, back when she'd let him use her lap to nap, but that was likely the first time someone not blood related had offered him any sort of physical comfort. He wasn't used to touching. He wasn't used to any of this, which, granted, didn't mean he didn't want it, just... that he was unsure when it was okay to ask for it, or if it was out of the question to do it back. The strange thought processes of his transformation made it very muddy and he seemed to rely on her body language to read what was and wasn't okay to do, "Feeling better?"

Ken took the moment to catalogue his feelings and well, "Still bummed," he said, head remaining pressed against her, and Momo let out a sigh, her hand lowering from his hair to rub his back in a comforting, circular motion.

"Yeah, that about tracks," she said, "I meant more along the lines of if you've calmed down now."

He offered a small nod against her shoulder, his vision entirely blocked by body, what with his forehead pressed against it, allowing at least one sense to be muted.

"Cool, 'kay," after a few more seconds, she lifted her hand and tapped his side slightly in poke poke poke fashion, a movement that seemed to indicate without words or a push that she wanted him to move, and thus he did. Ken lifted his head off her shoulder and watched her through near unblinking eyes, "Help me move these pipes to where I was gonna take them, and then we'll figure out... this" she gestured to him, head to toe, and again, because she asked, he did exactly what she wanted without protest. He scooped up the few pipes she wasn't carrying with her powers and followed her to the back of the main shrine, where he'd spent that first night.

He was quite sure she could have, at this point in time, asked him to fetch her the moon and stars, and despite the impossibility of it, Ken was sure he would have given it his best try regardless.

"Right, okay, lesee," the moment they had gotten rid of the pipes, Momo had turned to gaze at him, looking him up, then down, and then back up again, "You stayin' like that then?" he had no idea what to tell her, and just watched her, which was apparently enough for her to roll her eyes, "Right, always forget you get super weird like this. So... tell me. What do you think would help?"

Well, Ken wasn't exactly sure what would help in this state. Maybe nothing would. Everything felt so... useless when he was like this, like nothing quite mattered either way, and thinking about it was stressing him out further.

Something about his expression, which he hadn't figured had shifted whatsoever, seemed to indicate enough to her that she rolled her eyes, "Stop overthinking everything, dummy. What do you think would help at this precise moment. What do you need?"

Well, need was a strong word. He didn't need anything, but he figured there was something he wanted. The moment the notion flashed through his mind, his mouth opened, and out it came, absolutely no filter, "Can I hold you?" It was immediately clear from the way she looked at him, absolutely flabbergast, that out of all the things she had expected him to say, this one was nowhere on the list. Her mouth opened and closed two times without sound before Ken decided that honestly, nothing mattered anyways. In for a penny, in for a pound, "Just need a moment to calm down, and last time, when we were running, having you close helped."

She blinked owlishly for another two to three seconds, looked away from him in thought and seemed to come to a conclusion. Like with everything Momo did, when she turned back to look at him, she'd planted her feet and looked determined, clearly not about to back down anymore, "Sure, 'kay, let's do that," and she spread her arms in an awkward initiation of a hug.

Having gotten permission, he angled his body not to hug her, but to pick her up off the ground like one would have a small pet animal, eliciting a startled yelp out of the girl. He then allowed himself to flop on the ground, setting her on the ground in front of him and processed to wrap himself in a near boneless fashion around her, his upper hand leaned over her shoulder, legs spread out in front of him, and instantly... things were marginally better.

"Okarun!" Momo had found her voice again, and though she did not squirm out of her position, did reach out to give his head a light smack, eliciting a huff out of him, "A little warning next time!"

"You said I could though."

"I was expecting to be held, not to be picked up swaddled by your limbs!" despite her words, there was no real anger in her voice, and she slowly relaxed her back to lean against his chest, "You're lucky it's hot as fuck out and you're cold," this was said in a murmur, which was dumb, in his opinion. After all, if she didn't want him to hear her, murmuring near his ear was not exactly the best course of action.

Silence fell and for a good amount of time, during which he closed his eyes and took in the signs she was alive (her scent, her heartbeat, the way her chest expanded each time she took in breath), he moved not an inch.

"Better?" it was reminiscent of the question she'd asked him a bit earlier, and he offered, well... not a nod, but a simile of it, his whole cranium flopping over like it was too heavy for his neck to hold. Momo's response was a sigh as she once again patted his head, once twice before her arm fell back upon her lap, "Good."

Ken expected her to poke him, tell him enough was enough, push away even, but the girl did no such thing. He opened an eye to watch her slide hers shut, and thus, following her example, he did so too.

For now, it seemed like she was as content to sit and bask as he was.

[prof-peach]

Bit ooc but I have a question. How you do go about planing out your PLA comic? Like how do you actually turn your ideas/ storyline into comic form? Is it chapter to chapter or do you have the whole idea already planned out? Trying to find my own way in comic making so I’m just wondering if you could give any advice. Feel free to ignore if you don’t feel comfortable answering

So, at first this was al i could think to send.

because its incredibly accurate to my process.

Jokes aside, a lot of how i work is back and forth chaos, fighting with ideas until im happy with them. I will start with a list (usually not written down because im unhinged and keep a ot of it in my brain) and organise it in a way that makes sense to the situation, in this case workign with a game with an established plot...not that its a very strong one.

with a set of ideas, and a game to work around i will ramble and rant to a few choice people who i bounce well off, and also stare into space for hours on end building the ideas. This process can be days, it can be years. For context, i have some notes from 2019 about things i wanted to include that are still relevant. I have been scheming how to break and rebuild this OC for ages. Theres no correct time frame, so long as you simply do the work.

Once i have a fairly loose plan, i start to solidify the benning and the end. What is required to make a character compelling, what makes them believable, what makes them human in a way that we recognise. this isnt always a positive thing, people like to call characters who do bad things problematic, but its human nature to make mistakes and be damaged or difficult, the process of the story is not always rainbows and sunshine. For me, this hits even harder, as im trying to tell a story from the perspective of someone fundamentally broken, so showing those breaks and cracks has to be done wisely.

This is the point where i make notes about things that need to change from the start to the end. And ill say one thing, this story in particular, I have not solidly planned the middle. I am allowing space for me to come up with new ideas at points. Being locked into a dead set of ideas can be quite limiting, and as creators we consume and process things constantly to generate new stories. Id be a fool to make a plan and stick to it. everything i do is vague guidelines.

However, I know exactly how the story ends in Hisui, and where it goes to from there. And i think me personally knowing the end goal makes it easier to plot steps towards that, and some of those steps are anything but progressive.

If nothing else, the end was the only thing i saw clearly, and it has only become more complex and loaded and emotional as the rest of this has fallen into place. If you can see the goal, you can work out how to get there with time.

Regarding the chapters, i tend to draft plan up like 3-4 of them at a time, and then go in order to sketch out one after the other, so i have plenty of time to change things while i adjust. its constantly a process of seeing what you make, seeing issues, and scrapping whole parts just to redraw something better or new, unique even. I dont think a single page ive posted has resembled the very VERY first draft thumbnail ive made, and thats just how i do. Every panel, how big they are, the angle you hand the viewer, the way you light things, the expressions, this all dictates SO SO much.

Taking time over it is kind of the job, and let me stress, this is normally a job done by a team, especially the highly popular comics. one inks, one colours, one shades, one handles text, one edits, theres so many people behind it, so dont be bothered by the pace at which things are made if youre working alone like i am. One person means longer production times, if you can, spread the workload out, but its not required. Its why i always say it doesnt matter how long it takes to make, so long as youre still making.

I think its also worth noting, comics are consumed quickly, the bakcgournds and small details can be lost in the ace of the storytelling, pick and choosing your battles is wise, save your time on panels where you want the reader to shift along quicker, keep that pace high, and add in more detail and depth to panels you want to champion or get the viewers to hang around on more. its ok to let go of a "perfect" image in favour of getting content out, if youre being driven nuts by it. Again, time be damned, be happy with it. And if you can let go of petty details, id suggest doing it when possible, so long as it doesnt effect the storytelling.

I mean what else can i even say. This work is a passion project, I love it, more than i can even put into words, and i think you kind of have to, to make comics without monetary motivation. sure you can get lucky and find ways to make it big, but for most of us, its the love of the story. So maybe try not to be your biggest hater, its easy to slip into the behaviour, so try be gentle on yourself and the process. I should take that advice myself haha! but i really do mean it. This is HARD work, so be kind to yourself over it.

anyway, with a rough idea, a bunch of sketches, and time, they get inked and fussed over, i make a billion changes to layout and story, and eventually posting can happen but not after fighting with the monster that is creating. Idk what else i can say. This is not work for the feint of heart, but anyone can learn to do it.

Good luck, comic artists can always use it!

[nightcrawlerzincorporated]

To expand on this as a professional Dennis woobifier myself: I think the goal of myself as well as the other Dennis fans I’ve talked to is to acknowledge and discuss the reasons WHY "bad people" do the things they do. Discussing Dennis’ traumas and how they explain why he treats people the way he does isn’t meant to be a justification or excuse for the awful ways Dennis treats people, more to highlight the fact that he’s a human being with feelings that fuel the way he behaves. I think a lot of people find comfort in the idea that rapists/abusers/"bad people" are a completely unique type of human completely different from the rest of us "normal people", when in reality they’re just as human as everyone else and they behave the ways they do for human reasons, as uncomfortable as that can be to think about. So I think talking about Dennis’ humanity and pain and struggles and seeing and acknowledging the ways in which we ourselves relate to Dennis helps to contextualize and acknowledge the reasons people are abusive in the first place and the actual ways we can curb these behaviors in ourselves and others beyond just saying "well Bad People are just Bad and nothing like us Good People". As prev said I think that is very much the point Glenn is trying to make with the character.

Dennis acts like he’s better than everyone because he hates himself. He wants to have complete control over every other person is his life because he’s terrified of being hurt the way he was as a kid. That is the whole reason they call it the cycle of abuse, which is why I think you’ll find a lot of the biggest Dennis woobifiers are themselves victims of some form of abuse. It’s not about forgiving his actions or ignoring the wrong he’s done, it’s about putting him in his full context as a complete person and the knowledge and understanding we can gain from doing that. That’s why, along with what prev said about the majority of fans seeing Dennis only as an abuser and nothing beyond that in the first place, most analysis doesn't bother disclaiming that this is all being said in the context of Dennis being an abusive person because that’s kind of baked into the premise of analyzing him at all.

And I totally get why that can be jarring if you’re not reading those posts in that context and why it can come across as justifying Dennis’ worst traits or ignoring all his bad behavior in favor of focusing on what a sad pathetic little man he is, but the truth is that abusive people are sad and pathetic and hurt and miserable, they just choose to take those feelings out on other people. But again, the fact that Dennis takes those feelings out on other people is the obvious thing that everyone already knows about him just by watching any random episode of the show, so it's not really interesting to talk about in the same way talking about his trauma or his insecurities or the fact that he does have feelings (including positive feelings) is. That's what makes him such an interesting and realistic character is all the woobie stuff underlying his actions. Again that's the whole point of him being written that way in the first place.

And don't get me wrong, I'm sure there are Dennis fans out there who do use those things to actually excuse and justify his actions, which imo would be taking the woobification too far, but it's not common even among the small circle of Dennis obsessed tumblrinas who call him our princess angel baby, at least not that I've seen. Even without any disclaimers, I've never gotten the impression that anyone is trying to say anything Dennis does is justified or moral, even when we say things like "he did think he was being helpful when he did x", there's the implied "even though he wasn't."

And back to prevs point about Charlie, I think the main difference is that there are a decent subsection of people who woobify him as an excuse for his actions rather than an explanation. Like prev said, saying he's more moral than the rest of the gang, or that he's not as manipulative or toxic as the others, is kind of missing the whole point of his character. Just like with Dennis (and like with every other member of The Gang), the point is that they're awful people who all have reasons why they do the things they do, and who all have good traits mixed in with the bad, because that's how real people work. Talking about Charlie's good traits is a fine thing to do, and talking about the way he justifies his actions to himself and others is great, calling him your precious special boy and putting animal ears on him is beautiful, but if you're taking it to the point of "Charlie is morally superior (and therefore Charlie fans are morally superior)" you've gone too far. And I'm not deep in the Charlie fandom the way I am with the Dennis one so idk how common that actually is, but just like prev said I have seen posts arguing that he actually is a Good Person who is only brought down by the gang, which I've never come across with Dennis. The Gang are all friends for a reason. There's a reason they're the only ones who can stand each other, and it's because they've all done horrible things and so they're all willing to forgive each other and keep being friends, even when they shouldn't.

Opinions on Charlie woobification? Also, do you think the fandom woobifies Dennis (too much)?

A few people have sent me asks about my thoughts on Dennis being woobified in the fandom and I’ve failed to answer them (sorry). Not for lack of interest on the subject, it’s just hard to answer. I think, though, answering this Charlie question in the same ask might make it easier to explain my thoughts on this.

When we talk about the fandom we’re generally talking about the people here, a couple hundred people on Twitter, maybe some Instagram stans(?) and tend to ignore the million (1,000,000)+ people on the subReddit and the huge chunk of people on Facebook and casual Twitter who are constantly, continually pushing a narrative that these characters have no depth, and thus their characterisation is what we see on the surface and nothing more. I think the one time it’s probably important not to ignore those people as fans of the show is when it comes to woobification.

Because at a surface level, the people who are consuming this show as a comedy and making posts that exhibit their takes/opinions on these characters to the majority of people portray the characters very simply: Charlie is an idiot and the best member of the Gang, in every sense of the word, and Dennis is a mere representation of toxic masculinity to a psychopathic degree. And those opinions are the loud majority.

So any discussion in our minority section of the fandom that woobifies Charlie or Dennis operates within and on top of the general narrative of the public perception (“face value”) of the characters. Woobification of Charlie, then, almost always further infantilises the majority of his traits to contribute to the idea that he’s not a bad guy and doesn’t deserve the position he’s in in life, while woobification of Dennis mostly works to counteract the idea that he’s a cold-blooded psychopath.

In a way, I think you have to woobify Dennis to a degree in order to properly understand his character (and Glenn makes that clear). Do some people take it too far? When it gets into the realm of genuinely somehow believing he’s not a bad person, absolutely, but in over a decade of Sunnyblr posts, I think I’ve seen that conclusion once, maybe twice. I really don’t think any post that’s diving into how Dennis' actions reflect his insecurities and trauma is ever speaking ignorant of the rest of his character, and that normally seems clear to the majority of people because rarely, if ever, does a dive into Dennis woobification cause fans to understand the character worse than they understood him at face value.

Whereas, with Charlie, you constantly do see this. Posts and threads and fights between fans arguing up and down that Charlie is better than the rest of them: he’s the smartest, actually, he means to do good, he shouldn’t be lumped in with the rest of them as sexual predators... People in this fandom genuinely argue that you are a *better person* if you’re a Charlie stan, that Charlie ships are softer, more moral, than toxic Dennis ships. The result of Charlie woobification seems to often make people less media literate about the character (and the show as a whole if we’re being real) than they would be if they just watched at face value.

They’re all morally despicable characters.

TL;DR: Due to the face value perceptions of the characters, woobification is an almost necessary tool for better exploring and understanding Dennis under his surface, while it really only exacerbates an annoying surface-level understanding of Charlie

[scarletfasinera]

I hate when people are like "I already didn't like xyz so it's not difficult for me to boycott it unlike those loser customers that actually Liked the thing which I could never understand bc I was never a customer uwu" bc like. That literally isn't boycotting lmao. That is just Never Being A Customer In The First Place, which means nothing actually.

Boycotts are primarily about applying pressure (or completely making it impossible to operate) via financial/commercial/economic impact. AKA it's about money and capital.

If you already weren't spending money on a product/franchise/company, then you were already never part of their sales data, and you just doing nothing & making absolutely no change to your daily life and just continuing to not be part of their sales data as normal, has literally no material impact. You were already never a factor. The people who WERE customers & WERE part of the sales data & ARE withdrawing their money from those sales figures actually ARE making a material impact.

"Supporting" something isn't about vibes or thoughts or feelings or you telling your best friend how much you like a thing, "support" in a meaningful sense is specifically material. It is financial. Refusing to continue supporting something means taking the money you were previously spending on it & putting it elsewhere. If you were never spending money, you were never supporting it, and therefore it doesn't make any difference if you continue to not support it. Boycotting is something CUSTOMERS and CONSUMERS do.

SO STOP FUCKING BRAGGING ABOUT IT & STOP MAKING FUN OF PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY ARE BOYCOTTING FOR "EVER LIKING XYZ TO BEGIN WITH" & STOP SPREADING THIS FALSE IDEA OF HOW BOYCOTTING WORKS LMAO sorry for capslocking I remembered I was annoyed

I just hate this low-morale mean-spirited bullshit some people do in the notifs on boycotting info posts where they arbitrarily moralize about something they just don't understand so they can pat themselves on the back for doing literally literally nothing AND inadvertently spreading misinfo in the process. Be quiet. Go do something that matters. There are plenty of posts going around, including from Palestinians themselves, with lists of references for how to help Palestine & other similar causes for people currently in crisis, please please do something For Real instead of boasting online about your fandom superiority complex as if it means anything.

[triglycercule]

ok so there's murder time trio where theyre best buddies and get along and sometimes even having more than just platonic interactions. and then there's also the murder time trio where they genuinely just don't like each other and avoid each other and do NOT get along and to me there's just a VERY clear timeline of events that could connect these two group dynamics. like these 2 could coexist,,,,,,

nightmare's fresh outta his little corruption sequence and he needs his henchmen. goes out and gathers the obvious three killer horror and dust (does it really matter how he got them??? kidnapping or not the trio will warm up to him). its his first time having to deal with mentally unstable grown up mortal men and he really has no idea how to manage the team so he lets them have some slack. spoils em a bit yk yk stops fights allows them to hang out allows em to screw around the castle even COMFORTS them,,,, shocking i know (a slightly nice nightmare interpretation from triglycercule? UNFATHOMABLE!!!!)

this killer's fresh outta something new so he's still kinda curious and nosy. he hasnt seen the multiverse and especially not interacted with nightmare/horrordust so he's kinda more outgoing and friendly (ish. to get to know better everyone and satisfy the curiosity of seeing what reactions and feelings these fellas could give him.) bc killer's not that much of a prick and horror and dust would naturally SLIGHTLY get along (and if in the right environment be good buddies. which is nm's lenience and killer's not shittiness) the mtt actually get along pretty well and are good buds!! like the first group dynamic i mentioned where the bad sanses are just kinda like a friend group except they have some weird work relations

and then a fight breaks out and nightmare kills either dust or horror (what about??? anything!) likely dust first because he's more likely to be wary of nm (if kidnapped) and also because he's just kinda more actively righteous compared to horror (who likely wouldn't do much against nm) or killer (does not give a shit.) dust dies, horror likely dies defending dust and that just leaves the og killer and nightmare

nightmare is like "oh shit i just killed my workers". he'll take like a week to ponder what he did and then completely move on (because hes an ass like that.) nightmare gets another horror and dust to replace the ones he killed. and killer is just like wtf how do i deal with this. the guys i were kinda friends were are dead but their copies are right here. like he knew copies existed in the utmv but he didn't think nightmare was so willing to replace them so fast???

this killer's still adapting to the multiverse and stuff (it probably hasn't even been a year since he got snatched up!!!) and yeah hes aware that copies exist and he could get replaced by one but he didn't think that it would LITERALLY HAPPEN RIGHT BEFORE HIS EYES. so he decides to stick more around nm and avoid getting replaced like the og dust and horror because it really just hammers in the point that he's kinda useless if he speaks out like those 2. hes avoidant of the new replacements as well bc hes still new to this experience and is getting used to the whole implications of two guys that were once him and he was friends with died and got replaced by basically the same person

but they still have to work together for obvious reasons. and even if killer's avoiding horror and dust they probably aren't avoiding each other and probably are like wary friends/acquaintances. and naturally killer HAS to become okay worker buddy pals with them because hes stuck living with them. nightmare's a lot stricter and cold to avoid something like dust's rebellion against him happening again. mtt are wary of each other (mostly towards killer. horrordust are pals and killer's kinda growing more apathetic to the duo because he's already experienced a lot of the stuff before with the og two that died.) but theyre still "friends" you could say

and then perchance maybe horror and dust decide to let killer in on a lil secret theyve been cooking up. theyre planning to escape (kidnapped DUH. and nm isn't as nice as he was to og horrordust to warrent them to wanna stay) and even though they don't really trust killer theyre still letting him in on the plan and offer for him to come with them because they lowkey feel bad for him and he's really not all that bad under all the bullshit

but killer saw what happened to the og dust and horror so he says no. and the night that the duo are planning to escape he just has this overwhelming sense of dread. the next morning he wakes up to nightmare standing over his bed with a cold glare telling him of horror and dust's attempted escape and death and killer just kinda. sighs. his dread was right (he was lowkey hoping that they could escape so they didn't die like the original 2)

and then the cycle repeats. previous dust or horror or both die to nightmare or some random outside force or escape (because it has to happen eventually right??) and the pair keep getting replaced. killer keeps witnessing their deaths and replacements and at this point he's just so used to it that he doesn't even TRY to interact with the new horrors and dusts. theyre not even like real people that are getting killed and replaced like robots to him anymore they're just distant coworkers that get fired and then a new one comes to take up the position

each new dust or horror is icked out by nightmare and killer. nightmare is incredibly cold and intimidating and dictatorial and just sucks in general. and killer gives them this distant look. like he knows something they dont. he's already proven to them that he knows that they should obey nightmare and how to deal with the king and they know he's been here longer than them but even when he's not with nightmare or not talking about him they get the blank stare

sometimes when a nicer replacement of horror decides to do something nice for killer like make him a meal he just gives him that look and declines (there's already been countless different horrors that tried doing nice stuff for him. it's not new and nice in his eyes anymore.) maybe when a dust replacement gets irked by killer's apathy and decides to try and say something that'll bother him or snoop through his personal stuff killer will just walk away or kick him out of his room with that creepy ass blank stare again (it's not the first time a dust has tried to rile him up. it's not new or interesting and just predictable)

killer just doesn't CARE about the new horrors and dusts. they're all pretty much the same two guy except maybe a bit nicer or meaner or quieter or even taller or something?? all he really cares about is is serving nightmares atp, no other outside relationships. and ngl he doesn't even care that much about nightmare either. he's already figured out his thinking he's already figured out all of his likes and dislikes and what not to do to piss him off. the only reason he's still dealing with him is because he doesn't have anything else better to do and he doesn't wanna be useless to the one guy that he's served all this time

he's just kinda stuck in an empty boring limbo that killer's only maintaining due to a lack of motivation and any other priorities. and personally i just think this bad sans dynamic is lowkey tragic because like killer keeps witnessing all these guys that he used to be friends or enemies or rivals or whatever with and they just keep dying or leaving him behind. not one ever stays for THAT long (because no wayyyy a dust or horror would take being under a cruel nightmare well) and it's given him this idea that none of these people matter (aside from the important one which is nm) because they're just gonna leave me and the connections ill have formed with them will be for nothing so why even try being vulnerable and friendly and interacting with these cheap copies of the guys i USED to be friends with

[autumnhobbit]

don’t wanna hear about voting from every priest on social media this week thank u

[suckishima]

a dumb thing about myself is that im much more comfortable being excited about and gushing over things i only like a little bit whereas im absolutely mortified at seeming even mildly enthusiastic about things i love

[nostalgia-tblr]

It's time for me to admit something.

I am still a bit confused about how back in the beginning of the Loki series Mobius is introduced to us as "special[ising] in the pursuit of dangerous Variants." But like. That doesn't seem to be a thing that the TVA really... do? They mostly seem to spot nexus events and pop to the new branch and prune it, bringing back the person who caused that nexus event to give them a show-trial and then prune them too.

There's no reason they can't do more than one thing, but what exactly are "dangerous variants"? From the TVA perspective they're all equally troublesome, and they'll be picked up as soon as they do something 'wrong', and the TVA/HWR don't actually care about the moral value or otherwise of that 'wrong' thing. Have I got that right?

They're chasing Sylvie but a) she's targeting the TVA themselves and b) she's got a means to travel from one timeline to another, which she got from the TVA and unless those get stolen a lot..

I'm willing to just roll with it anyway if it doesn't really fit but what am I missing here? EXPLAIN. (pls?)

[goldkirk]

as I'm going back over my past history and items and journals and years, I come across all sorts of things, like the pencil I saved from that so-precious memory from second grade, and a pair of flip flops I've been missing for two years, and [checks notes] the modern-high-school-AU-kidnapped-by-a-serial-killer story I wrote in late high school jdfsjdfsjkjlksfd

[skitskatdacat63]

I know it would literally never happen, but whenever the speculation of who the next James Bond will be comes up, I can only think about how I would sell my soul to get a butch lesbian James Bond 😣

[bog-horse]

anyway my issue with a lot of other helpols (which just makes me avoid the larger community and do my own thing in my corner) is that a lot of them are recon (which is fine!!!) but i am inherently informal and weird as shit in my practice. i call hades and hestia my spiritual dad/mom, hermes gets donuts as offerings when i’m trying to get to class on time and avoid traffic, i once asked artemis to keep deer from jumping out in front of my car on a road trip home with an offering of granola/sports bars. when people get too formal with the gods and pull out the titles, i usually bail bc it makes me uncomfortable. my relationship with my deities is extremely deep and connected, and it’s not that people who have more formal relationships with them can’t also have those, but it’s that if i called hades “lord hades” with any seriousness, he’d hit me with a rock, basically.

i don’t judge other people for their practices or more formal relationships bc honestly, it’s between you and your gods, but like… my go-to offering is the pomegranate brookside dark chocolates, and yes. sometimes i eat them out of my offering dishes the next day.

[musingmycelium]

. noncoherent but also thoughts