#and i think this is great for Seeing A Show. i always want this kind of broader Context and also i think it sure really would help for like

[catherinnn]

Sharp Tongue

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

summary: Eddie gets his tongue newly pierced and it becomes your weakness.

warnings: SMUT (+18), oral (f & m), overstimulation, piercings and descriptions of the healing process, afab! reader.

words: around 4k

masterlist

The group is at Steve's. Pizzas are already on the way and the beer is chilling in the fridge. The only thing missing was Eddie. Well, not actually missing. He probably took too long in the shower or stayed listening to his favorite album on repeat and the time flew.

He arrives an hour late, everyone scoffing at him.

"Alright, alright. I have no excuse. But I do have a little surprise" he smiles.

"What is it?" Jonathan asks. Eddie simply sticks his tongue out, showing the little metal bar on his tongue. "What?!"

"Holy shit! Is that real?" Steve looks at his tongue surprisingly.

"Of course it is, Harrington" Eddie smirks. "I got it last week. Hurt like a bitch but it looks sick, right?"

"That’s so cool, let me see it again!" Robin agrees. Eddie sticks his tongue out again.

You don't say anything. You stay frozen, just looking at it amazed.

Eddie wiggles his tongue a little before wincing. "Still sore, no unnecessary movements"

"How are you not in pain?" Nancy asks him.

"I mean, I was. The first few days sucked. Living off of soup and mashed potatoes. But now It's not swollen anymore. I can't eat anything that's not soft, and I can't kiss anyone" he explains. "Not like there's a line of girls waiting to kiss me anyway"

"But since when did you want a tongue piercing?" Nancy asks.

"I mean, why not? Looks metal. Plus, it's supposed to be really fun... in some scenarios"

"You mean... like-"

He interrupts her, with a smirk and a wink. "Exactly what you're thinking, Wheeler"

You almost choke on your drink at that image. The idea of what that piercing could do and how it would feel against-

Robin is so kind to interrupt these thought out of your head, as she sees your flushed cheeks and lost stare.

"You've been suspiciously quiet. Everything okay?"

"Huh? yeah, fine" you shrug.

"What's your verdict, princess. Am I pulling this off or does it look weird?" Eddie asks you.

"I think you're pulling it off" you nod.

He smirks. "Good to know"

"Pizzas are here! and uhh... mashed potatoes for Eddie, I guess" Steve interrupts.

As the pizzas disappear, more cans of beer are opened. You're curled in the corner of the couch, finishing your cup, feeling the blush on your cheeks from the alcohol.

Eddie's sitting next to you. Long legs stretched out and he's leaning back against the couch. And his tongue?

You can clearly see the little metal ball peaking out of his pink lips as he absentmindedly plays with it.

"Eddie, stop that. You weren’t supposed to play with it yet" you tell him.

"Didn't realize I had an audience" he chuckles.

"You don't" you playfully roll your eyes, lying.

Robin and Steve are bickering about something you didn't pay attention to. Nancy and Jonathan having their own quiet conversation.

Eddie nudged your ankle with his. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just tipsy" you smile. "How's your mouth? Swollen?"

"Nah, not anymore. The first few days were torture though. I sounded like I had some dental surgery, real charming"

"Did it hurt more or less than a tattoo?" you ask.

"It's a different kind of pain. A tattoo is like... this dragging burn. The piercing was just one sharp stitch, quick and kinda shocking" he answers your questions. "I'm surprised you're this curious. You usually avoid anything involving blood or needles"

"I dunno. This doesn't look too bad"

"Oh great, thanks" he laughs. "Anything else you wanna know?"

If he only knew everything else you want to know. Like how the contrast with the coldness of the metal and the warmness of his tongue would feel against your skin. How would it feel to kiss him? To play with your tongue against his and feel the little ball making everything even hotter.

You've always wondered how it would be to kiss someone with that piercing... and you've always wondered how it would be to kiss Eddie. Ever since you met him.

But now, the thought of killing two birds with one stone, solving both of your questions, was making you dizzier than the alcohol itself.

“You keep looking at me like that” he murmurs, barely audible.

“Like what?”

“Like you want to know something” he tilts his head, a crooked grin forming.

You should lie, laugh it off. Should say it’s the alcohol, the fact that he’s loud and hard to ignore. But you don't.

Instead, you take another sip and lean in a little, the alcohol giving you the courage and guts.

“I guess I’ve always wondered…” you say softly. “what it would be like”

His expression shifts, eyes darkening, his grin faltering at the edges. “What what would be like?”

“Kissing someone with a tongue piercing”

There it is. No flirtation, no sarcasm. Just truth. Eddie doesn’t say anything. He just stares, his fingers tightening around his bottle.

You continue, a little bolder now. “People say it makes everything feel more intense. Maybe the metal adds pressure” Your gaze drops to his mouth. “Makes everything feel even better”

Eddie swallows hard, forgets how to breathe.

Now they're both imagining, picturing, letting your minds run wild. Every place that piercing could go. The heat of his mouth dragging over skin, the pressure of metal.

You're painting a picture, making him your muse. And he's ready to frame it and hang it on his wall.

“You really think about that stuff?” his voice is hoarse.

“Sometimes" you shrug, smirking. “I’m just curious”

“Curious” he repeats, like it’s the most obscene word he’s ever heard. "You know I can't kiss anyone yet"

"No, I know" You lean back against the couch. “I’m just saying, it’s a really interesting piercing”

Eddie clenches his jaw.

"One week” he mutters.

"Until what?”

“Until I can"

You didn't want to overthink what Eddie had said. You were both drinking. Tipsy, flirty. But you've been friends for a while now, there's no way he was really going to throw all that out the window for a hot night together... as hot as that night would be.

By Thursday of the following week, you were going to The Hideout with the group. Eddie was playing with his band and you always came to see him every once in a while.

Once the show is over and the music inside the bar shifts to its usual rock playlist, Eddie comes back down to greet everyone. His cheeks are pink, voice still hoarse from his singing.

You can feel him before you see him. He sits next to you at the tiny table that was definitely meant for less than six people to sit on. So of course his leg is constantly touching yours. Your shoulders brush everytime you lean to grab your drink.

Eddie melts casually into the conversation, like usual. But he still hasn't said a word directly to you since he sat down.

You reach to grab some chips from the table and you bump his arm.

"Sorry" you whisper.

He finally looks at you, grin on. "You keep saying that everytime we touch"

"Maybe we should stop sitting too close" you grin too.

"Maybe I like it" he adds. Then, his hand goes down rest on your thigh. Your heart skips a beat. "You remember everything from last week?"

"I remember a lot of things" you say.

"Oh, yeah?" he hums.

"I remember you were drunk"

"So were you"

"Exactly"

"So you think I didn't mean any of it?"

"I think you wouldn't throw away our friendship just because we drank too much and sat too close"

"Is that was it was to you? A mistake?"

"I didn't say that" you correct him, but your moment of tension is cut off by Steve, not even realizing what he was doing.

"So, Munson, how's the tongue?"

"God, don't phrase it like that" Robin cringes.

"Oh, my tongue? Wouldn't you wanna know, Harrington?" Eddie grins wide and leans back, and arm going behind his head to scratch his head. He doesn't know it (or maybe he actually does) but his shirt lifts up, letting you get a peak of his happy trail. Good God.

Steve rolls his eyes. "The piercing, idiot"

"It's all healed up. No infection. I even checked with my piercer and he gave me the green light"

"Can you eat properly now?" Robin asks him.

"Yup, I've been having pizza for two days straight now. I've missed it so much"

The silver ball appears from between his lips, rolling from one corner to the other. He's playing with it, obviously. Constantly. Like a nervous tic... or maybe a provocation.

"I mean... technically, now I could kiss anyone at this bar if I wanted" he adds. "And even more than kissing"

"Jesus, alright. We get the picture" Nancy groans.

And just like that, your mind is already spiriling again, taking you to a corner in your brain where Eddie's mouth is not talking, teasing, and joking around. It's exploring, tasting, pressing, flicking.

You clear your throat and look away, pretending to focus on anything else.

"Alright, I'm going out for a smoke" Eddie stands up and grabs his cigarettes. He looks up for a second and calls your name. "Could you be a doll and join me outside? You know, so I'm not all alone and defenseless out there"

You hesitate. Something tells you to avoid this. But then again, part of you has been waiting for this moment.

"Back in a sec" you murmur to the rest as you stand up as well.

Outside, Eddie leans back against the brick wall and lights his cigarette.

"Defenseless, really?" you ask.

"I mean, I can't afford a bodyguard yet, so you'll have to do" he jokes.

You roll your eyes. But the joke doesn't last. Eddie takes another drag and exhales, his eyes not leaving your face.

"I meant what I said the other night" he admits. "I only told you that being drunk because sober me's a coward"

"You're not a coward"

"The filter just dropped there, that's all" he pauses. "I haven't stopped thinking about you. About that night and how you looked at me. And you're pretending it didn't mean anything"

"I'm not pretending, I'm trying to protect what we have"

"I know, but what if we miss the chance of something real?" He walks closer to you. "I'm not gonna kiss you. Not because I don't want to. I do. God, I do."

"Then why not?"

"Because I want you to believe me first"

You stay looking at him, thinking. Eddie takes a step back, like the conversation is over, and takes another hit.

He's about to talk but you beat him to it.

"Eddie"

He turns, quiet. And you walk over to him without thinking too much about it.

"I haven't stopped thinking about that night either" you admit. "I keep picturing it. You playing with that stupid piercing like you're doing right now"

He hadn't realized he was. His tongue stops, subconsciously.

"I imagine what it would feel like," you whisper, stepping closer. "against my lips"

"Jesus" he sighs.

"Against my skin. I wonder what it would be like to kiss it. To play with it. with my tongue" you keeps whispering.

He calls your name like a warning.

"What? You wanted honesty"

"This is not fair"

"I know what I want. And I wanted to be sure you wanted it too"

"I do, so badly"

"You said you could kiss anyone you wanted tonight, right?"

"Yeah" he says, jaw tense.

"Then why don't we stop playing around it... and finally see what it feels like?"

It takes him less than a second. He doesn't hesitates and he moves.

Hands on you and he kisses you like he's been waiting months to do it. It's rough at first, urgent. Like he's afraid if he doesn't kiss you now, he'll never get the chance again.

Your back hits the wall softly as you melt into him. Arms around his neck. And it's everything you imagined.

The metal feels a bit cold at first, in contrast with his hot, soft and slow tongue. He deepens the kiss, flicking the piercing slightly against your bottom lip.

A sound escapes your throat at that.

"Well?" he smirks.

"It's... better than I imagined"

"Did you imagine a lot, sweetheart?" he smirks as he hugs you.

You don’t rush back in.

Not when Eddie has you pressed against the brick wall like it’s the only place in the world he wants to be. Not when he’s still kissing you like he can’t quite believe this is real.

Every flick of that piercing, teasing the corner of your mouth, your tongue, dipping down to your jaw.

Eddie pulls back just a little, lips dragging to your cheek, then lower, to the curve of your jaw, then your neck.

And then he mutters against your skin, voice rough and low: “If you want we can keep testing how this thing works later” He pulls back to look at you. “I mean, purely scientific purposes; research, discovery"

“You’re ridiculous” you whisper, chucking.

He kisses you again. Slower and softer.

Then, he pulls away and smooths his hand down your arm. “C’mon, let’s go back before they start missing us”

You walk back in trying to act casual... you failed.

You hadn't notice that your hair was noticeably more tangled, lipstick no longer present. Instead, the tinted red was now on Eddie's lips and the corners of his mouth. His hair a mess...  even more than usual.

And they all notice. Everyone.

Steve spots you first. “No. No way.” He slams his hand on the table. “You two?”

“Oh my God" Robin laughs looking at Eddie's face.

“Do we all need to go outside for a smoke break now?” Jonathan acts scared, jokingly.

Eddie just shrugs and slides back into his seat like nothing happened.

“I mean...” he starts with a grin. “I told you I could kiss anyone I wanted tonight"

You sit down without a word.

“I told you I was defenseless,” Eddie adds, “she just took full advantage”

You roll your eyes.

"So? Does the piercing work?" Robin jokes.

"Oh, it works" you smirk.

The parking lot feels cold. The group spills out of the bar, putting on jackets and still laughing about some dumb joke.

Nancy and Jonathan get to her car, ready to go back home.

Steve grabs his keys and walks up to his car. "Alright ladies, I promised I'd get you two home" he refers to you and Robin.

You dig in your purse for your keys when you hear: "Or..."

You turn to the metalhead behind you, standing by his van.

"You could ride with me" he offers.

"Mmh, pros and cons?" you ask.

"You already know what I'm offering" he gives you a cocky smirk. "I told you we could keep testing things"

"Oh" Robin's eyes shot up.

"Sorry Steve, thanks for the offer though" you walk towards the van with a playful smile.

"Don't worry, Stevie" Eddie smirks, openening the passenger door for you. "I'll make sure she gets home... eventually"

Steve rolls his eyes and sighs, getting on his car.

As Eddie drives out of the parking lot, your friends yell: "Wrap it up, Munson!; Use protection!"

Once you arrive at Eddie's place, the door clicks shut behind you. The trailer is quiet. Eddie tosses his keys on the counter and turns to look at you.

He's like a wolf with its prey. His innocent and pretty lamb just waiting for him to devour her. His eyes raking over you. The silver ball still peaking out in between his lips while he stares at you.

"You look nervous" he murmurs, stepping closer.

"I'm not"

He smirks at that. "You're gorgeous, you know?"

"Just come here and kiss me" you chuckle.

That's all it takes, his hand finds your hair and his mouth is on yours before you know it.

You start making out. That metal ball right where you wanted it, agaisnt your own tongue, making you chase the feeling of it.

His hands sliding down your waist, gripping your hips like he means to leave marks.

He walks you backwards, step by step, never breaking the kiss. Until you hit the edge of his bed and drop onto it.

He just stares at you for a moment.

“Wanna keep going?” he asks, raspy voice. And you nod. “That’s not a yes”

“Yes" you whisper.

He's on you again in a second, kissing you harder, with his hands all over you.

Then, his mouth moves south to your neck. Open-mouthed kisses to make sure you feel the metal.

You can't really register when exactly your shoes came off. If it was before or after your shirt was tugged over your head. Everything blurs around the way Eddie's hands grip you, or his mouth moves lower and lower on your throat, chest, stomach. Until it reaches your thighs.

He looks up at you with those botton eyes and you're not sure if he knows the effect they have on you. His hair brushes over your skin as he settles in between your legs, and the sight of him there —eager, ruined already.

His mouth is everywhere, slow at first, like he wants to savor your reactions —every twitch, every gasp, every whispered 'Eddie' that slips out. And that piercing is not just decoration.

It gets impossibly hot pressed against you in the best places. He flicks it, then drags it slow just to hear you.

You fist on those poor cushions. He grins against you, tongue insistent, fingers gripping your hips to keep you still.

Round one hits like a storm. Your thighs already trembling on his shoulders, his name repeated on your lips as you cum.

But he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even give you time to think.

Round two is worse (or better). He's slower now. "You taste like fucking candy, sweetheart" he mutters, voice wrecked and low, sending you vibrations.

He uses his tongue flat, the piercing catching right on your clit, flicking it every two seconds. You're twitching, begging, already falling apart again.

When you finish for the second time, your mind is blank, eyes glassy.

He nips at the inside of thigh, mutters things against your skin you can't even hear.

And you think he’ll stop now.

He doesn’t.

By round three, you're gasping his name loudly. You're so sentisive that you could just start crying.

And he's not even close to done.

“Still with me, baby?” he murmurs, mouth hovering just above you. “You got one more?”

You nod, enthusiastic.

And he dives in again —addicted.

By the end, you're not sure if you're moaning or sobbing, maybe both. Your hips held tight in his hands while he licks through the waves of your orgasm.

And when he finally pulls back, he's got your slick down to his chin and all over his cheeks, that metal glinting in the low light, his hair wild, and a dangerous look in his eyes.

“Jesus, that was the best” he whispers, licking his lips.

You just reach for him and pull him up to another kiss.

Eddie goes to lie half on top of you, his arms around your waist, hair sticking to his cheeks, and his cheeks are flustered.

He could only describe you as a beatiful mess beneath him, bare and flustered, still catching her breath.

"I could use a cigarette now" he smirks and looks in his nightstand. Your gaze drops to the very obvious state of his jeans.

Tight. Painfully so.

The outline of him is already big.

You reach down and lightly brush your fingers over the bulge. He practically jumps.

He warns, calling your name.

You only tilt your head, voice teasing. "You really thought we were over?"

He groans, hiding his face in your neck. “I'm happy with what we did already”

"Yeah?" you grin, push him back a little, trailing your hand down his chest, toying with the hem of his shirt. “Well… but look at you”

He exhales, jaw clenching. “Don’t do that unless you mean it"

“Oh, I mean it,” you whisper, palming him over the denim now, watching the way his hips twitch towards you. “You’ve been walking around all night with that piercing like you invented sex. Thought we were done?"

He laughs, breathless, then moans as you unbutton his pants slowly, dragging the zipper down. He’s twitching, hard and thick, and so big.

And when you get your mouth on him, he moans louder.

"Fuck, sweetheart-"

You work him over with your tongue, taking your time, teasing, savoring. You want to make a mess out of him too.

Your tongue curls on his pink head, while you stroke the base.

And when you look up at him, mouth slick, eyes gleaming? Eddie loses it.

Groaning, head back, fingers fisting the sheets and your hair with the other hand. He whispers a string of curses and sweet nothings that make you want to ruin him.

"You're so good, baby. You're gonna make me cum, ruin that cute little face and make it mine"

He pushes you down slowly, further, so you're taking all of him.

"That’s a good girl, take all of it. God"

And when he finally comes, thighs trembling, moaning your name, you can only smile, licking your lips, and murmur:

“Now we’re even"

Eddie blinks, dazed. Then laughs, low and panting.

"So did you like the piercing?" he gives you a big smile when you go and lay next to him.

"Like is an understatement" you chuckle.

"Oh yeah?" he grabs your cheeks and gives you a quick kiss.

"Yeah, I might have a few other ideas we could try out"

"Oh, I like the sound of that," he gives you another kiss, "I have some ideas of my own too"

"Then we better get to it, big boy"

"We most definitely will, pretty girl"

[lizzieisright]

i really love the way you write abby it’s always so humanizing of her and her character and makes her feel all the more real!! could you write hcs about abby little quirks as a girlfriend

Thank you so much! ❤️❤️

I did the hcs thingy, guys!

Definitely had a "I'm so straight" phase.

Loves stand up comedy and will make you watch it with her. This woman will find comedians that no one has ever heard of and in a few months they will suddenly become popular. She has a sixth sense for it.

Lives under a fucking rock. She doesn't have tiktok or twitter, uses Instagram as her archive.

However. Abby loves insta stories. Yeah, she could post a thirst trap in the gym, but why would she if she can post a video of a hedgehog she came across? Or a weirdly existential poster she saw? Or you doing some stupid shit like trying to open a bottle of wine with a screw and pair of pliers? (You fail, and the next video is her opening the bottle)

Obviously a gym rat, hates going to the gym with someone (even you), unless she goes the separate ways with her company. However, if you're new to the gym, Abby will gladly show you around and will abandon her own workout just to take care of you. If you hate gym, it's fine too - again, she prefers to train alone.

Abby's care is quiet: she is one of these people who does things and never talks about them. There's a famous story about Yoongi (BTS) who gives his teammates water bottles without even looking at them - that's Abby for you. She doesn't ask or even draw attention: she gives you snacks, puts her jacket on your shoulders, washes the dishes after you've cooked, and all of this is just so natural to her she doesn't even recognise it.

Abby is not the person who gets into your hobbies, but she remembers everything you've told her and will let you talk her ear off.

The most hardworking person you've met. Even if she has her family support, she still tries to find some kind of job, or puts all her effort in her studies.

Abby hates all these healthy recipes, so she tries to come up with her own that won't taste like absolute shit. She is doing great, by the way, and tricks you into healthy eating with her cooking.

If you have any kind of ED, Abby will be the most supportive person ever. She will bite everyone's head off if they dare to comment on your eating habits, help you through recovery and never, ever judge you.

She doesn't like gossip, and is pretty private about her own life.

(this one is self-indulgent) If your hair needs any kind of extra care, Abby will help gladly. Brushing, braiding, hair care routines - she is there for you. She cares about her own hair and understands your struggles.

Abby is confident: not cocky confident but in a way that she knows there's nothing wrong with her and no one can tell her who she is or pretend to know her better than she knows herself. It's impossible to make her feel self-conscious.

So she really doesn't get it if you get self-conscious, especially around her: she sees you as a whole, complicated person and to her, you have nothing to be self-conscious about. It's just you, and you're perfect the way you are.

The woman of action - Abby never promises something she can't follow up on. If she tells you she will do something for you, she will no matter what.

Can't clock people for shit - for all her own confidence, she is oblivious as fuck. Has some bullshit detector built in her, but interpersonal relationships are not her strong suit. Didn't know Mel and Owen were dating for like four months, or that Manny and Nora were awkward around each other because they slept together and figured out they don't work sexually at all.

So flirt with her all you want, but she will think you're just bantering. She will flirt back shamelessly and still think it's just friendly banter. Idiot.

Combine her obliviousness and confidence and get Abby who uses her words all the time. She wants to ask you on a date? She asks, absolutely not scared of being rejected. She is straightforward as fuck and will ask whatever she wants to know.

Really appreciates if you can hold your own against her. Abby is not pushy, but she is more at peace knowing you will establish your own boundaries without fear.

She is an octopus when she sleeps. Her nose will be buried in your hair/neck to the point she will have trouble breathing, but she doesn't care. Holds you the whole night and genuinely won't let you go if you try.

Buys you flowers every week, and when you start living together, Abby starts buying house plants. Eventually your place looks like a greenhouse.

Loves gaming. Abby will seat you between her thighs and play her little games while you can nap or scroll down your phone. If she plays something with a good plot, you will watch it like a movie.

If you're into gaming too, then you'll be two nerds who fight over who gets to play some game first.

If you're a Sims 4 girlie like me - Abby buys every pack they release for you. Doesn't matter if you want it or not - she hears you watching announcements, she pre-orders it. Good luck with the Journey to Batuu pack.

+ nsfw

Abby is gentle and caring to her core. Very big on the consent, so if you find asking if she can do something annoying - too bad, because in the beginning your sex will sound like a very hot interrogation.

On the other hand, if you're into dirty talk - you're in luck. She sounds extremely hot and doesn't even know it.

She is a switch and her preference depends on her mood.

If Abby tops, she is 100% service top.

Everything you say will be weaponised and used against you.

You like how she kisses your neck? She will master it untill you start to shake just from the brush of her nose against your skin.

She is very thoughtful and goal-driven. (The goal is to have you half-delirious with pleasure)

Loves eating you out, can and will do it at every opportunity.

When Abby bottoms, she thinks she is pretty chill. In reallity she is so damn bossy, will tell you what and how to do.

If you want her to shut up and take it - your best bet is a strap. Abby turns into a whiny, sweet mess, and if she tries to talk you can always fuck her harder.

Abby is very open to trying out new things, does all the research and then nerds out to you about it. The most unsexy sex talker outside the bedroom.

The rule of thumb is: don't make her cum as long as you can, otherwise Abby will just have her orgasm and lose all her sex drive.

That's why Abby is the strong supporter of "sex is a journey, not a destination" philosophy. She likes sex for the intimacy and fun, not for the orgasms.

okay I'm stopping there otherwise I'll never finish

[serelume]

What kind of flirt are they? {Izuku, Bakugo, Shoto}

I’m always a fan of headcanons. They’re kinda my specialty. mostly fluff. wc: 1,698

Izuku Midoriya 

He doesn’t flirt to impress. He doesn’t even realize he’s flirting half the time.

But it’s in the way he looks at you like he’s studying a star that wandered too close to Earth. It’s in the way he listens, really listens, as if your words are as important as strategy, as sacred as heroics. There’s no guile to him. No suave games. He is all stammering heart and kind hands, and that alone makes him dangerous in the quietest way.

He sees the small things no one else catches: how you tap your foot when you’re nervous, how your quirk strains your shoulders by the end of training. He’ll casually offer advice – not to show off, but because he genuinely cares.

“Um, hey… sorry, I noticed your arm was trembling a bit after that last hit – do you want me to show you a stretch for it? I think it might help take the pressure off.”

You didn’t think anyone noticed. But he did. Of course he did.

Izuku flirts with his actions – not his words. He remembers your favorite sports drink. Always carries extra bandages, just in case. He’ll sit beside you during lunch without a word, just offering quiet company until you speak first.

He’s the boy who brings you your notebook when you forget it. Who lingers after sparring just to make sure you’re not limping. Who hands you a water bottle without meeting your eyes and says, soft:

“Thought you might need this… I noticed you were getting a little flushed.”

He’s not trying to impress you. He’s just being Izuku. And somehow, that’s worse for your heart.

When he does compliment you, it’s not smooth – it’s a small explosion of flustered truth.

“You looked– uh, really cool back there. I mean, your form – your stance, I–I thought it was great! Not that I was watching you the whole time or anything! Just… I, um… noticed.”

And he’ll try to walk it back, cheeks red, fingers fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. But even then, he won’t lie. His voice might be trembling, but his heart? Solid steel. He meant what he said.

There are moments when he forgets to be nervous. When you catch him off guard – laughing at something he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at him and not through him – he’ll go completely still.

And then, without thinking:

“I really like your laugh.”

Just like that. Soft. Blunt. Barely above a whisper. It leaves him frozen afterward, panicked over whether that was okay to say, but it’s too late – his heart slipped through the cracks.

He doesn't realize how often he looks at you. How his eyes linger a second too long. How he watches you smile like it’s something sacred, something he’s been entrusted with. When you glance his way and catch him?

He’ll look away – fast. Scratch the back of his neck. Blush a deep pink.

But next time? He’ll still look.

Because he can’t help it.

He’s not trying to sweep you off your feet. He’s just curious – genuinely.

He asks about your favorite music. What kind of food you like. Your goals. He gets quiet when you talk about the things you love – not because he’s zoning out, but because he’s memorizing them.

“I didn’t know you liked space documentaries. That’s… really cool. There’s this one with All Might narrating – I could find it if you want to watch it sometime.”

He doesn’t realize it, but he’s inviting you in. Not just to a moment. To himself.

Izuku isn’t a flirt in the traditional sense. He’s the type who makes you feel seen. The one who remembers. Who holds space for you. The kind of boy who’ll be standing quietly at your side when everything else is falling apart.

He won’t sweep you off your feet with charm but he’ll anchor you with kindness.

And one day, when your heart stumbles in his direction, it won’t be because he chased you.

It’ll be because he never once tried to change who he was to earn your affection.

Bakugo

Bakugo doesn’t flirt. No, seriously. He doesn’t know how. He thinks the entire idea of “flirting” is idiotic, and if you suggest he’s doing it, he’ll deny it like it’s treason.

But gods help him – he does it anyway. Not with sweet words or obvious moves, but with quiet protection, sharp glares meant for everyone but you, and gruff, gritted-teeth affection that sneaks past his walls before he can stop it.

You won’t catch him staring. You’ll catch him looking away too fast.

If you smile at him too long? Compliment him? Say his name with just a little too much softness?

“Tch—don’t look at me like that.”

Jaw clenched. Eyes averted. Ears burning.

You hit a nerve and he hates that you can do that.

(He loves that you can do that.)

He doesn’t bring you flowers – he’ll body the guy who made you uncomfortable. He won’t say, “Are you okay?” – he’ll shove a water bottle into your hand with a snarl and a look that says don’t argue.

“You looked like you were gonna pass out, dumbass. Hydrate.”

Not romantic? Maybe not. But your heart still stutters.

Bakugo’s love language is proximity. If he walks beside you, if he lingers after training instead of storming off, if he slows down just enough to match your pace – that’s his version of flirting.

He may not say it, but if he’s choosing to stay? He’s already saying everything.

He’ll never straight-up say you're amazing. He’ll just… grumble about how you better keep up, then get pissy when someone else underestimates you.

“She’s not weak, dumbass. Try her again and see what happens.”

Then act like he didn’t just go to verbal war for you.

He keeps it together – barely – when you're talking to him.

But the moment you turn away? Shoulders tight. Eyes dart to the side. Lips twitch. And – if you're lucky – he lets out this barely-there, sharp breath through his nose, like he's trying to suppress how ridiculously attractive he found whatever you just did.

He keeps his distance until he doesn’t. If you’re tired, stressed, hurting – he knows. He always knows. He watches from across the room, corners, rooftops, shadows.

Not in a creepy way. In a I’ll die before I let anyone else hurt you way.

He’ll never ask you to rely on him. He’ll just be there, whether you want him to be or not.

One day, when the tension finally snaps, he’ll growl something under his breath like:

“You make my brain fuckin’ hurt.”

Pause.

“…But I don’t want you to stop.”

Then shove his hands in his pockets and act like he didn’t just light your whole world on fire.

Bakugo doesn’t flirt with charm. He flirts with intensity. With lingering looks when he thinks you’re not watching. With the way his tone softens just slightly when it’s you. With rough words that still manage to sound like care.

He’s not sweet. But he’s real.

He’s not kind. But he’s loyal.

He’s not romantic. But if he’s falling for you, he’ll protect your heart like it’s the only thing in the world worth saving – even from himself.

Shoto Todoroki

Todoroki doesn’t flirt the way most people expect. He doesn’t tease. He doesn’t compliment easily. But his focus, his gentleness, and the intensity of his attention? It’s magnetic.

He flirts like someone who isn’t sure if it’s okay to feel but wants to try anyway.

When you speak, he listens. Fully. Not half-hearted, not distracted. His mismatched eyes are locked on you, brows slightly furrowed, as if everything you say deserves consideration.

“Hm. That’s interesting. No one’s ever explained it like that before.”

He doesn’t interrupt. He doesn’t rush you. He makes you feel heard. That’s his version of flirting.

And you feel seen, like really, soul-deep seen.

He doesn’t play around with charm or small talk. If something about you strikes him, he says it – flatly, but sincerely.

“Your laugh is nice. It makes me feel… warmer.”

He doesn’t even realize that’s a bold thing to say. He’s just being honest.

Dangerously honest.

Shoto’s love language is presence. You’ll find him quietly appearing beside you: during lunch, after patrol, on the way home. No announcement. No need to speak.

He just… shows up. Walks beside you. Breathes next to you. Never in a rush. Never prying.

It’s quiet. Steady. And deeply comforting.

You’re cold? He offers his warm hand without a word. You’re overwhelmed? He’ll take your wrist and guide you out of the room, expression unreadable but grip gentle.

He won’t ask what’s wrong unless you want to tell him. But he’ll be there. Always.

“You don’t have to talk about it. But if you want me to stay… I will.”

That’s not just care. That’s connection.

Unlike Bakugo, he won’t insult you. Unlike Midoriya, he won’t ramble. His compliments are rare but pointed, and never fake.

“You looked strong in that last match.”

He pauses.

“It suits you.”

Short. Measured. But the way he looks at you when he says it? That’s where the meaning lingers.

He watches. Quietly. Closely. And sometimes, he’ll say something that stuns you because it’s so spot-on.

“You always touch your sleeve when you’re nervous. I noticed.”

No teasing. Just fact. But it makes your heart race anyway.

Because if he notices that… what else does he see?

Shoto doesn’t touch casually. A brush of fingers. A hand on your back. His jacket draped around your shoulders. These aren’t throwaway moments.

They’re deliberate.

When he touches you, it’s because he chose to. Because he wants to.

And that carries more weight than words ever could.

Todoroki doesn’t know how to flirt in the traditional sense. But his quiet presence, his unwavering attention, and his gentle honesty draw you in like gravity. He won’t say much. He won’t push.

But when he does speak – when he does look at you a little longer than he should – you’ll feel it like a spark under the skin.

He’s not trying to win you over.

But he’s already halfway there.

[hyacinth-in-a-haze]

Prairie madness-Yandere outlaw x fem reader

Contains- violence, abuse, threat of noncon, gun violence, age gap, manipulation, set during American westward expansion 1865-85, reader is explicitly an Irish immigrant to the us, I am enforcing the yandere cowboy agenda.

It's your own damned fault for smiling back at the tall stranger who rode alongside your wagon. You didn't say nothing, only lifted your gaze to meet him with a fleeting smile when he called you a pretty gal. You liked his accent, nothing you ever heard before coming here, there's been lots of new discoveries.

You missed home something fierce, that cottage always smelling of the dried peat in the fireplace. You never thought that would be the smell you missed most, but when the evenings are spent searching for dry buffalo muck to fuel the fire, peat is a distant memory. You missed the closeness of it all, everyone knowing everything, when one person coughed the doctor would practically already know. That's the funny bit, the familiarity you once thought you would suffocate under, compared to here where you companions barely speak the same as you, and some don't take too kindly to folk like you. When your family got off the boat in New York, you couldn't begin to count all the “Irish need not apply” signs that littered the walls, not to mention how you heard some of the others on the trail loudly talk about how your kind bring nothing but disease with their lazy godless ways. After that you stopped trying to find friends amongst the other families, sticking close to yours.

So you smiled at the stranger, glad to be found pretty after three months on the trail, not to mention the six weeks on the coffin ship to get to this vast country. You only catch glimpses of your face in the reflection of rivers as you bathe or cross them, vanity doesn't do much out here where your body is already worn through.

And when your Mam tutted and told you to lift up your shawl you let it slip lower, wanting him to see more of your face, trying to be noticed for something good for once. He seemed kind, gentle even with how he handled his horse, cantering beside you at a steady pace while your mam drove the oxen. Was clean too, a great difference between him and many other men. It wasn't as though you even knew other men, sure there were the boys in your village, but those were but the elder brothers of your friends, but this cowboy was a man. Not quite your father's age but between yours and your father's you assumed, he looked practical, sure of himself and the sweet words he said to you.

When you camped for the night he asked you your name, giggling gently as he stumbled on the Gaeilge. He only lifted his stenton hat up in response, showing you the flash in his stormy eyes.“I reckon rather than butchering a pretty name I'm just gonna call you little bird instead.” His voice measured and deep. With your cheeks blushing you don't know what possessed you to talk back to him to ask him why he was choosing that of all things to call you. He only smiled back with sharp teeth, “cause I think that little Irish lilt of yours is the sweetest song I've ever heard.” Your voice got caught in your throat as you practically ran away, mumbling some excuse about needing to watch over the children. No matter what, he saw the red in your cheeks, heard the stammer of your voice, you were never smart enough to wear your emotions anywhere other than your sleeve. He wasn't the only one to see, despite how well you thought you hid yourself. Your mam pulled you off to the side one night to lecture you about how to act right around the men. Telling you nothing more to mind yourself and not get into any trouble, confused you asked for clarification about what kind of trouble she thinks you'd fall into. The only answer she said was to never mind the details and just to not be foolish. Without her letting you have the truth you posed the question again to the only other person you could.

“My Mam is telling me to not get into trouble, but I didn't think I was troubling you, was I?” You turn to him earnestly wondering if perhaps the fact that you followed him about like a duckling was bothersome. He didn't need to accompany you and the little ones out to go berry picking a ways away from camp, but when you told him of your plans he simply followed suit, gun on him in the case for bears. He snorted hearing your genuine worry, trying not to laugh in your face as he responded.

“Little bird, I don't quite reckon that was the kinda trouble she was meaning, but I'll let you know now that you are the opposite of troublesome when I see your sweet face,” before you can question what he even means by that your attention is pulled away, back to the littles you're meant to be watching over. Leaving him to watch over you. Sometimes now you wonder why no one said nothing, if anyone else could have seen the way he looked at you. Perhaps they were all so smitten as you, or they let you make your own bed with the expectation you'd have to lie in it eventually.

It was warm that day, a cloudless kind of heat where the sun almost makes you feel ill. The men having all ridden ahead of their family's, scouting for camp while the rest stayed by the lazy riverside. No use for all of you to ride when washing had to be done, with the absence of the men it was almost freeing the way the women congregated. Turns out months of the same dust do wonders for those who think they are better based on the language they speak.

You didn't expect to see your cowboy come riding over. Funny how then you thought of him as yours, no longer a stranger but as yours in a way. Only this time it felt odd, he was alone, with a hardness in his gaze once he dismounted. When he approached you, there wasn't even a sensation of anything wrong till he had one arm round your neck so tight you lost the air to scream, and the other pressing his pistol against your head, barking out as everyone else screamed.

“Now we don't need to stop being civil, cause if anyone tries something I'd have to blast her pretty little head open and we don't want that do we?” receiving a round of terrified nods, you trash trying to break free only to be hit across the temple with the barrel, over and over until you still against him, “now if you don't stop squirming I'm gonna do something I'll regret to you, so I'd appreciate if you'd calm the fuck down.”His voice has never sounded like that before, gone was the easy softness about himself. In its place was a coldness you had only ever seen in the eyes of little boys throwing rocks at penned dogs, knowing the poor things can do nothing but take the violence in hopes it will stop. You can barely register his words, ears ringing and head throbbing. You understand nothing as all the other women frantically hand over what little valuables they have, only somewhat aware of a dampness trickling down your forehead. He has never touched you before, and now all of a sudden he's done it with such violence you can't begin to separate the dissonance of it all. Where have all those sweet words gone, dripped into the dust like the blood down your face?

Suddenly you're being yanked backwards, you can't understand a thing that he is doing, everyone did as he said. Why won't he release you? Your Mam lunges forward, only freezing when he quickly moves the gun from your head to shoot in the ground, the sound as the bullet ricochets from the floor deafening you further and sobering everyone else. “I won't want to do it, but I will if you make me, and where would that leave me? If you make me shoot her I might have to go for someone else next to make sure you understand how I feel.” You can't move, can't breathe, only slump with a dead weight as he pulls you with him, throwing you atop his horse with the rest of his loot. Turning back to the terrified corral of women he just tips his hat with a smirk, “I can promise you I'll take care of her at the very least.” Before he mounts his steed and rides off, the last you see of your Mam and the littles clouded by the kicked up dust.

You don't know how long it takes before the thoughts come back to you, before you realise the man you always made sweet eyes with was nothing short of a rotten bastard.

“Aren't you gonna tie me up?” Your mumble is only received with a snicker, why is that the first thing you say to him after what he's just done. You say no word of his violence, curtsey and thieving, no word of the fact he's just stolen you from all the family you have left and he's riding deeper into territory unknown to not just you but to civilisation.

“I don't need to. You'd be smart not to run unless you want the wild to eat you right up little bird.” His light and easy demeanor is back, at first you thought these could have been two different parts of him, but you know violence comes just as easy as his smile, the only difference earlier was that he showed you the smile.

He only rests at nightfall, pitching the horse and building a fire for your sake. He makes a big to do of giving you his bedroll like a gentleman, that he will sleep on the cold ground and ruin his old bones further, you find no humour silently wishing his sleep is fitfull, without any rest.

“Why did you do it,” you ask quietly over the glowing flames, knees tucked to your chest. He looks at you as though you are soft in the head.

“Because I wanted too, sweet bird, I was always gonna rob you folk, that was a given. I ride alongside for a few days, gain trust and have you think I'm just a fellow traveller, then I rob the women when the men are far away. The only difference this time,” he outreaches a firm hand to lift up your chin “was you, and suddenly I began to think how nice it would be to hear your lilt every morning when I wake and every night when I sleep. Fuck, if I was a worse man I would have just had you out in the woods like a whore and left you with your skirts about your head.” The casual way in which he speaks of such a thing makes your stomach turn and you taste bile in the back of your throat. You know nothing of what goes on between couples, nothing but the hushes spread by other girls, or the mumbling of your Mam that marriage is first.

“You can't do that, we aren't married.” You don't know what even possesses you to find that is where the problem lies, not his threats, his easy violence, or the very fact that if you didn't respond back to him that awful morning you wouldn't be here. Wouldn't be bruised and torn from all those you've ever loved. Your voice is pitiful but he howls as though you've uttered the greatest joke.

“You'd like me to marry you little bird? Can't say I've heard any other women say that to me, but you ain't a woman are you? Just a sweet girl who doesn't know a thing of what she's gotten herself into, but I quite like the idea of having a wife. Might find some traveling reverend and make it proper like one day.”

“I'd need a priest, I'm Catholic” you don't even understand why this is what you're fixated on, the absence of a priest as though God wasn't looking away from you right this moment. But when you've lost everything else it's only the meaningless things you've been left with.

“Sugar, I think I'm doing enough by entertaining your proper ass, what the fuck would it matter out here for the specifics? This is godless country, you don't realise how good you have it that I'm such a gentleman to you.” he smiles despite his words, leaning down to give you a kiss atop your hair. “But I'll be a good husband to you, give you little trinkets and treats when I come home to you. You just got to be a good girl to me like you were a good girl to your family, maybe in time we will have littles of our own running about.” The thought made you feel ill, curling up on yourself further and refusing to give him an answer. He just sighs and tells you to get to bed before the fire dies out.

You wake sometime in the dead of night, confused about where you are when you open your eyes to see stars rather than the canvas tent that has been your bedroom all these months. Until it all comes crashing back to you, your forehead has scabbed over, strands of hair stuck to the dried blood. Other than the hoot or howl of some far off creature the prairie night is silent. The outlaw is silent too, turned on his side, his chest rising and falling with each breath he takes, doesn’t seem like the hard ground causes him to lose any sleep. You get up slowly, like a kicked dog slinking its way to the barn. He's left his belt off, close by his head but you could grab it, it would only take a few seconds to steal his gun. Without it he couldn't hurt you, or do worse.

Steadying yourself you crawl over, both hands reaching for the holster, it is heavier than you expected. Almost like a newborn, the same kind of warmth to it too. The moment you have it you start sprinting, the entire ride he only went north, facing far from the sun, with the moon gloaming above you only hope you're making your way south. Hopefully to some farmstead or town or anything. Anyone even who could help you, who could keep you safe from his wrath when he wakes to find you and his gun gone. You still, catching your breath. It is cold, you have no food nor water and are exhausted after barely half an hour at most. And your lost, lost in this stupid land of false promises and nothing but the fucking prairie for company. You should go back, crawl on your knees and tail between your legs and beg for what mercy he can give to you. Go back before he finds you and gives you an answer to those veiled threats. Perhaps he will forgive you, it wasn't as though he couldn't be kind, he made those promises like he meant them. Between death and the devil at least the devil offers you warmth, you turn around.

You hear him before you see him, the horse galloping as fast as it can, searching for you. The dust clouding up his silhouette as he comes into focus, before you can say a thing he is atop you. A hand wrapped tight on your throat pushing you further to the dirt, his eyes are a whirlwind of anger and fear fighting over each other, with the faintest flicker of relief.

“What we're you thinking?” He hisses, spittle hitting your face, he's that close. “You don't even know where you are and you thought to fucking run from me? You stupid little girl, you could have gotten yourself killed.” He is heavy atop you, hand squeezing sharper as if to punctuate his points. “Did you think I was just teasing when I said that you would die if I was not there? You know nothing of this land you little fool!” He heaves above you for breath, his free hand making its way up your skirt, grabbing onto your bloomers. “What will it take for you to learn huh? Should I fuck you in the dirt to teach you a lesson? Break your legs and cripple you? Ruin you so badly you'd never think something so stupid as this!” He screams with only the cicadas to hear you two.

“I'm sorry!” You howl with tears streaming down your face, he is so startled he drops his hand from your drawers, “you were right, I was stupid and so scared I didn't know what else to do. Please I'm sorry it won't happen again, please! I was stupid and ungrateful and you were right.”

He pauses, hands moving to wipe your face and his eyes turning tender once more as it was before all this. Your heart settles in your throat like a jackrabbit

“Come now sweet bird I only was worried for you, that's why I'm upset. When I woke to find you and my gun missing why, you made me mad. I can't lose you to the land or two some other man who wouldn't treat you as gentle as me.” As you babble your apologies over and over he slowly relaxes, dropping his shoulders and holding you tight. “Now now let's stop the waterworks, I understand you were scared but you still did the right thing to understand that without me there's nothing for you. I forgive you this time, but if you ever try this again I will need to take matters into my own hands.”

He helps you back up, climbing behind you on his horse as you soberly renew your journey. Eventually you come across it- a small homestead in a clearing. Surrounded with nothing but great trees as far as the eye can stretch. If you squint you could almost pretend it was the whitewashed cottage you left far behind you, how long has it even been since you've had the safety a house can provide? It is dusty and disused but he looks at you with pride in his eyes as he opens the doors. “Now I finally have a reason to return home so long as you're here.” He leans in again, a chase kiss upon your cheek as though the past few hours never happened. But you know there's no one to blame but yourself for giving up and accepting this as yours. For accepting those easy eyes and quick smiles without peeling them back to understand what could be underneath. For smiling back at a strange man who rode up one day alongside you.

[swanimagines]

Oooo hii long time no request!!😅😅

If it’s okay, can I please request a oneshot (or imagine, whichever works best for you!!) with Morpheus x fem!human!reader where she is Alex Burgess and Paul’s Granddaughter, and she’s visiting her Grandparents after years of moving away, and even though she has been told ever since she was a kid to stay away from the basement, her curiosity gets the best of her and she goes down there anyways, happening upon a locked up Morpheus. I’m sure he’d be skeptical to trust her, knowing that she’s one, a human, and two, a Burgess, but when she starts actively trying to free him, he starts (gradually) to change his mind about her, especially when she manages to get him out of the fishbowl-like-cage he was locked in. Maybe he wants to repay her for helping to free him, and he shows her the Dreaming and they get (romantically) closer the longer she stays there?? Whatever you think!!💜💜💜

A/N: Fun to have filled your request again, it's been like 5 years since you last sent me something haha :D Also just a reminder, this request is oneshot sized so it doesn't even qualify as a ficlet/imagine request, which means I didn't really choose to make this a oneshot, the size of the request demands a oneshot. Just a reminder for anyone who may see this and misunderstand how do different request types work.

Also a little extra note because I'm sorry if it feels like I cut the corners too much, I know I stress the "detailed plot for a oneshot please" but your request unfortunately is far too detailed for a oneshot and if I wrote this JUST as you requested, a oneshot wouldn't be enough, at least not with my writing skills. And I'm not built for longfics so :/ I had to cut corners from some things that would need a looooong buildup for it to feel in character. I hope that's fine and you won't be too disappointed.

THE MAN IN THE CELLAR

Summers were the best time of the year, honestly. Getting away from your busy life, responsibilities and duties you had when you were born into a respectable family.

But during summers, your grandparents took you to stay with them at their manor, away from the city’s grime and everything you loathed. At certain things, city life could be fun, convenient and vivid, but you had always preferred the countryside, and the big manor your grandfathers owned was a perfect place for that.

The manor had its mysteries, like every old building had. The cellar in particular had been off limits for you since you were a child, your grandfather Alex had explained that his father had been a cruel man, backed up with your granddad Paul. And that the cellar had old relics, demonic artefacts, you’d better not see. And for years, you accepted that — you had read about your great-grandfather Roderick Burgess and the horrors he was rumoured on doing. You had tried to be curious about it when you were younger and asked your grandfather how was his father in real life, but he always avoided the topic and refused from telling more than what you could read from old articles.

It had been a long time since those times now, and you were already a young woman who was kind of expected to find a husband and establish a family soon, but your grandparents never poked you with questions like that, thankfully. You sometimes wondered how you were living in 21st century while constantly being asked about whether you’ve already found a man, but you always managed to brush it off.

This summer was a little different from past ones. Grandfather Alex had been irritated somehow, and constantly visited the cellar when he and Paul thought you weren’t watching them. If it was truly full of “demonic artefacts” your great-grandfather left behind, why was he so eager to look through them, constantly? And why he was snappy every time he came back up?

And one day, you heard him mutter to granddad Paul, “He’s never giving up. He’d be there for an eternity rather than just promise he won’t hurt us.”

Paul sighed. “Maybe we should let him out, Alex and just… trust him. It’s just not worth it to fear for our own safety, you have seen what keeping him prisoner has–”

“And risk our lives? Risk our daughter’s life? Her family’s life? What if he wants revenge and wants to wipe all of us Burgesses off the face of the Earth? How could I let him out, when I know we may wake up the next morning to find our own granddaughter–”

Creak.

They stopped talking and you cursed at stepping on that one plank you always knew to avoid when you were a child and tried to sneak to the snack jar. But you sighed and stepped forward, trying to pretend you hadn’t heard anything, plastering a smile on your face.

Both of them looked at you with wide eyes, and you frowned, trying your hardest to look puzzled. “What?”

Your grandfather pursed his lips together and waved at your granddad, who started pushing him forward and they both smiled at you. “Nothing. Good night, sweetie.”

You watched at them go towards the elevator, and glanced back to the cellar door. Well, now it intrigued you more than ever, and you also happened to know the passcode… so maybe you should just take a small peek.

You shouldn’t, you knew that. But maybe… just a peek.

At night, you waited until you were sure your grandparents had fallen asleep, before you quietly exited the guest bedroom and tiptoed downstairs. You barely even breathed as you typed in the passcode, slightly flinching at every beep it made. But you somehow got it right on first try, and slipped in, before you were stopped on your tracks again once you heard two voices chatting to each other.

“He’s been here for decades and has never even tried to escape, why the fuss?” a man asked and the woman smacked her lips.

“Have you even seen the news articles about the time boss’s father was still alive?”

The man sighed. “Stories often bend around enough to be something completely different from what they started from. If I started out a rumour about you that you like to keep a garden, in a few decades it would have turned into your daughter being a serial killer who buries her victims into your garden.”

You took two careful steps forward, and finally saw… a man. Sitting naked in a large glass ball.

What the hell?

You stared at him, not even blinking.

Why did your grandparents have a naked man as a prisoner in their cellar?

It was just absurd. If someone had told you this was the reason why you weren’t allowed to go to the cellar, you would have laughed for an hour about that thought, mocked the person for being delusional. Your grandparents were the last people to keep a human being a prisoner and have guards to watch over him.

But here you were, looking at the very proof they had done that exact thing.

—-—-

You started visiting the cellar every night after that. Something in him just drew you there every single night, and it wasn’t long before you started learning the patterns of the guards, when one of them fetched something to eat for both of them, the bathroom breaks, the moment the male guard felt like he can slack for a few minutes when the female one didn’t see…

You had found a place for yourself in the corner, there was a space, a dent in the shadows you could squeeze yourself into when guards passed you, and they never noticed.

You didn’t know if that man inside the glass ball noticed you either, as he always just sat there looking at his feet, never looking around, seeming like he never even slept. He just sat there in that same position, night after night.

You weren’t sure when you started feeling like it actually wasn’t a human. You remembered reading news articles about your great-grandfather having a demon trapped in his cellar, was this the demon?

But he didn’t feel like a demon.

But… on the other hand, isn’t that what demons are supposed to be? Trick people into thinking they aren’t demons so they’d open the gates to be possessed?

But the longer you thought of it, the longer you just couldn’t help the thought. You had to get that man out of there. Something wasn’t right, and he needed to get out.

So, you began planning how you’d get past the guards, break the sigils, break the glass. You knew any of that wouldn’t be easy, but you set your mind to it.

—-—-

It took weeks. Maybe a month or two, you lost count. In any case, your summer vacation was almost over when you finally, finally managed to switch the pills they used to stay awake to strong sleeping pills, and soon both guards snored loudly on their desks, which encouraged you to finally move from the dent and sneak past them.

The man didn’t look at you, didn’t even acknowledge you. You didn’t even know if he saw you. Was the glass a two-way mirror? You frowned, before you knocked on the glass to get his attention.

Still no effect. He was ignoring you on purpose.

Well, that wasn’t a wonder honestly, he had been imprisoned for God knows how long, he had probably lost all hope at this point.

You glanced back at the guards. Still out cold, so you snuck back and started digging through their drawers for a key, a wrench, a crowbar… something you could use to open the glass ball as you recognised the glass type, it definitely wouldn’t shatter even if you slammed it with a sledgehammer. But there was nothing there, which made you groan out of frustration.

Then, you remembered the sigils. You looked down on them for a moment before you snatched the water bottle from the other guard and marched back to the glass ball, pouring water on the sigils and rubbed it around with your foot. The sigils smudged away, but there wasn’t any magical wave or a whiplash you expected, which made you drop the bottle in frustration.

At least the man now looked at your shoe, that had turned faint yellow from rubbing it against the paint. He was probably disappointed too.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to get you out,” you murmured against the glass. “I… I’ve been watching you for weeks now. I just… I just have this feeling you need to get out. I don’t know why, but I just can’t get it out of my head. I think you—”

You were interrupted as you heard your name being called from upstairs by your grandfather, which made you flinch and the man looked up. You sighed, closing your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Then, you sprinted away, pretending you were merely getting a glass of water before your grandfather could make his way downstairs, smile at him and claim everything is fine and you definitely weren’t trying to get the naked man in his cellar out.

But you still knew that you didn’t know how to forget and give up, when there was clearly nothing you could do.

—-—-

Next morning, you woke up to your grandfather shouting. “What do you mean he has disappeared?!”

“I don’t know, boss! We both fell asleep—”

“Fell asleep? You mean to say you forgot—”

“No, we took them, but somehow we still fell asleep! Maybe the sigils had weakened over the years and he managed to enchant us!”

You sat up slowly, listening to the ruckus. People pacing, running around.

He had escaped?

You let out a disbelieving breath, you had succeeded? Breaking the circle had worked?

Apparently that was exactly what happened.

—-—-

A few weeks later, you dreamed. For the first time in your life, you had a dream. A beautiful, neverending field with golden straws of rye spread around you and in the middle of it all stood a tree. And under that tree, stood a man in a long black cape. You recognised him immediately.

“You’re… here,” you mumbled, and he smiled softly.

“Yes. You freed me.”

You blinked. “How? I mean, obviously the sigils… but how did you get away without anyone noticing?”

He turned his eyes away from you, looking around the field. “I created a portal here, to my realm.”

You flinched slightly. “So… do you mean to say you are a demon after all?”

He chuckled. “This is not Hell. I am Morpheus, the Lord of Dreams. Children know me as the Sandman.”

You frowned. “Sandman?”

He hummed. “I was planning on cursing Alexander Burgess with eternal nightmares, but you being his granddaughter changed my mind. I do not wish to bestow such grief over you after this gift you gave me.”

You blinked. “…Thank you.”

He turned his eyes on you again. “You came to see me every night. You plotted on my escape for weeks. And for that, I am eternally grateful. The world order is restored, much because of you.”

You felt yourself blush and turned your head away from him. “I just did what I knew was right.”

He hummed again. “I wish to show you my realm. I know you have never visited here, as you were born when I was already imprisoned.”

You looked around again, and the field had shifted, replaced by a small town and a castle. “What is this place?”

He started walking slowly, prompting you to follow. “It’s The Dreaming. You will visit here every night in your dreams. Your dreams will be affected by what you went through during daytime.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. You didn’t know what to say to that. You felt his eyes on you, and you glanced at him shyly. “Will I see you every night?”

His mouth parted slightly before he frowned. “I do not usually appear into mortal dreams unless there is something I need to see.”

Your shoulders sagged slightly. “Oh.”

He was quiet for a moment. “But I may make an exception with you. I may not be able to appear every night, but I would like to meet with you any time I am able to.”

You brightened up instantly. “Really?”

He smiled softly again and hummed. You smiled at him widely, feeling a flutter in your chest, unaware Morpheus felt a flutter in his own chest too when looking at you smiling.

This could become something beautiful.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[idontlikeschool]

I have no idea how Ao3 works ngl but assuming/pretending Ao3 has people in an office managing the Twitter account I imagine something like this

Employee 1: ...oh damn.

Employee 2: What?

Employee 1: Tumblr wants to marry us.

Employee 2: Wait what? I know Tumblr is goofy and all that but they can't just say they're gonna marry all their users–

Employee 1: No, idiot. Us. Ao3.

Employee 2: What?

Employee 1: *shows them the tweet*

Employee 2: Oh... wait that's the official Tumblr account?!

Employee 1: Dude have you been listening to me at all?!

Employee 3: Keep it quiet you two! It's the third time today someone yells about a fanfic–

Employee 2: Tumblr wants to marry us.

Employee 3: What?

Employee 1 & 2: *show them the tweet*

Employee 3:

Employee 3: *calls the boss*

Boss: Vicky I told you those kind of fanfics are quite common in Ao3, I don't think you're made for this job–

Employee 3: Um, we have an emergency.

Boss: Oh, sorry. What is it? A bot or something?

Employee 3: Tumblr wants to marry us.

Boss: Guys I already told you, what happens in another apps is none of our business. If Tumblr wants to marry– wait, us? Ao3?

Employee 3: Yeah, there's a tweet.

Boss: ...are you sure is that what the tweet says?

Employee 3: Well, going steady and a ring sounds pretty obvious to me.

Boss:

Employee 3: Boss?

Boss: FUCKING FINALLY.

Employee 3: Wait wha–

Boss: ANSWER THEM. AND DONT YOU DARE SAY NO.

Employee 3:

Employee 3: I mean, are you sure? Our tweets are usually pretty serious and–

Boss: Look, if you ruin this you're fired.

Employee 3:

Boss: Just kidding. Unless you ruin it. I'm out.

Employee 3: Wait! What do you want me to answer?!

Boss: Oh just... don't look too excited but also not too serious. And be funny.

Employee 3: What does that even mean–?! And they hung up, great.

Employee 1: What does the boss say?

Employee 3: To answer yes but without being desperate but also not too serious but also funny.

Employee 2: So... like normal people.

Employee 3: Yeah.

Employee 1:

Employee 1: That's impossible!

Employee 3: Right?! We're not normal! We're everything but normal!

Employee 2: Guys, we got this. We're Ao3. We may always post seriously but it's all because we value efficiency and don't want to keep our users in the dark. We're totally capable of answering a marriage proposal from Tumblr in a normal, fun way.

Employee 1: You have no idea what to say, don't you?

Employee 2:

Employee 2: Is the twitching eye?

Employee 1: Yeah.

Employee 2: Dammit.

Employee 3: Okay, let's read the tweet again guys we can do this.

*one minutes later*

Employee 2: So... go steady... that means we were already dating?!

Employee 3: What?!

Employee 1: Wait, you're right! How didn't I notice that?!

Employee 3: Okay, that's... something. But we still don't know what to answer.

Employee 1: What about "everyday with you will be crazy"?

Employee 2:

Employee 3:

Employee 1: It was terrible, right?

Employee 3: I can't believe my job depends on these morons.

Employee 2: Look, in our defense, this a tough situation. What do we even say to something like this?

Employee 3: You're right. How would Ao3 answer a marriage proposal from Tumblr?

Employee 1: Well, happily.

Employee 2: And with a warning maybe.

Employee 3: About what? Ao3 is not insanely different from Tumblr. I don't see why they wouldn't get married.

Employee 4: *accidentally hears them* Ha! Like Tumblr could handle Ao3's fanfiction.

Employee 1: Huh?

Employee 4: I mean, Tumblr has fanfiction, yeah, but Ao3 is on another level. In both amount and wild content.

Employee 1:

Employee 1: I got it!

Employee 4: Wait what?

Employee 1: Take a look.

Employee 2:

Employee 3: That's... actually pretty accurate.

Employee 4:

Employee 4: SINCE WHEN ARE WE DATING TUMBLR?!

Employee 5: *in the distance* WE ARE?

Employee 6: *even more in the distance* GUYS WE ARE MARRIED TO TUMBLR NOW?! A WARNING WOULD'VE BEEN GREAT.

[mariusperkins]

Not really sure what the point of the Monica storyline was, it feels like we came out of it still barely knowing anything about her relationship with Bertha and their overall family dynamic. Also really hated George and Larry laughing at Bertha when inviting Monica was first brought up.

Hello anon thank you for giving the excuse to rant about this!!

I did suspect Monica was going to be underused - every guest star basically is because the season is not long enough to support an arc for them, and I would be shocked if any new face besides Hector and The Future Mr Peggy Scott William (and family) gets more than 1-2 episodes of screen time. I do so wish that we had, if not the 20 episode seasons of ye olden days, then at least 10-15 to let some part of this show breathe a little more.

As for what we do learn, I think you can force more out of it than there is in the words on the page, since the gilded age is good at giving you a huge amount in the crumbs of Tone Of Voice or A Shared Look or even just looking up something to give yourself the historical context. Bertha and her family history is obviously a great example of this - the hint of Irish ancestry, the tiny fragment we know about her mother seeing Bertha as a vehicle for her dreams, her long view of their family's rise from the very start of her and George's marriage.

To me it was like... Their mother had two daughters and, for whatever reason, she chose Bertha as, if not The Favourite, then at least the one that she put her energy into. Bertha didn't learn the more controlling aspects of herself from nowhere, so you can assume that their mother likely chose her clothes and dictated her movements to a similar degree (though maybe less extreme, since they were - most likely - working class, and Bertha would certainly not have had the education Gladys had in a governess/etc). It would be impossible, I think, for the sisters to not be in conflict and resent each other in some way growing up (why can't you see what mother and I are trying to achieve For Our Family vs why can't you guys be happy with what we have), the kind of things that wedges itself deep in your soul, and I feel like we do see that on display in the episode - not in screaming fights like they might have done in their youth, but the constant prodding at one another: why don't you want a nicer dress to impress someone important vs why do you care so much about Meaningless Things. You can see the gap growing even wider as they got older and their mother died, that last point of connection gone (and now she'll never see either of them "win", so their tug of war will never be over).

But as with most backstories in the gilded age, if you don't want to actively seek it out and think it over, the show can fit the basic and very boring reading that Bertha is a stuck up bitch and her kind sister Monica has always been happy with what she has.

Which brings me to what I really want to talk about: this is maybe the cruelest the Russell family has been to Bertha in the show's run.

I am not unsympathetic to Gladys here, it's a tough position (made tougher by agreeing to the engagement! And thinking she could rely on George, who for narrative purposes the show needs to be shockingly ineffectual here), a devastatingly sad historical reality for a lot of young women in that time period, though as Marian points out again and again in this show when people think to ask her opinion: finding love in the 1800s was no guarantee that you would have a happy or secure life (a thing still true today, really), and that there were plenty of arranged partnerships where people made the best of it and made themselves happy because of it (which is clearly JF's position on the dollar princesses, given this and Cora DowntonAbbey). I'm glad that from what I have heard about her arc in the second half of the season that she finds some measure of happiness, and her refusing to come out of her room is the least bad of the Russell family in this episode.

As for the others...

I hated George laughing with Larry, yet another example of George getting to have the kind of relationship with his kids specifically because Bertha can't, because he never has to be the bad guy with them (even with Gladys, he frames it as not being able to stop Bertha, putting the blame back on her, as though they don't live in the 1880s). George and the kids constantly get to trade isn't Bertha being so ridiculous looks, and it honestly makes me so sad, to think of her being so isolated even within her own family, to never get to be brought into their jokes, to always be the opponent in some way.

It also lets him wash his hands of his role in the family. George clearly views him being a Good Dad as the thing that really shows his moral character (and not, you know...his terrible factory conditions and brutal way of doing business), and he's so obviously resentful that he can't so cleanly be The Good Guy here that he's taking it out on Bertha. I've said it before and I'll say it again: it's the 1880s. If he didn't want the marriage to go ahead, it wouldn't. Between this and his play out west, he's taking out every insecurity and frustration on Bertha, every trait of her's he's spent two seasons admiring now made to be a glaring fault in her character. It is, in a word, unfair.

And with Larry inviting Monica... Just what was that supposed to achieve, besides him trying to humiliate Bertha? There is a difference, I think, between being a protective older brother, and just being cruel to someone you do not like and this was the latter. Making Bertha uncomfortable in her own home does not protect Gladys. Humiliating Bertha in front of people she's trying to impress does not help Gladys. Having someone else to roll your eyes at when Bertha says or does anything does not help Gladys. I do not believe for one second he was motivated in any way by wanting her to be there, which makes it not only cruel to Bertha but also pretty rude to Monica. How would you like to be invited to a wedding as a joke on someone else?

On top of all of that, any and every scene of Bertha trying to impress someone and getting nowhere with them, because to them she will always be the potato picker's daughter in a fancy dress and nothing more, it just breaks my heart. Bertha is never trying harder than she is in those moments with Mrs Astor or Lady Sarah and it will never be enough. And Monica sort of reinforces that, doesn't she, as they look around at the wedding - the beautiful decorations, the place packed with beautifully dressed well to do people, all here to celebrate Bertha's daughter - and her sister says it's nothing. All her work is nothing to the Lady Sarah's of the world and to the Monica's. She will not get in above and they will not let her in below, and so it is her, isolated and alone forever, always grasping, always hoping that, next time, maybe you'll get it right, maybe that's the time it will really and truly work.

I know so many people seemed to have finished the episode feeling like Bertha was Unforgiveable, but honestly after episode 4 I feel more sympathetic to her than ever.

[rivendell-poet]

hi! Can I get the SFW alphabet for pippin? I love him so much and you write all these characters so well and full of life and detail!

This... took a while. But I'm back! Maybe, hopefully. I still check on this account and thank you so much to everyone who still engages with and likes my work ❤️

Also thanks so much for the compliment, hopefully my writing /reader skills aren't too rusty

*･༓˚✧❝𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 - 𝐏𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧❞‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « SFW Alphabet »

Wordcount : 3.7k (only including my answers to the questions)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Pippin is certainly an affectionate person - in reality, he’s affectionate to all but especially to you. Other friends still get to see him smile and grin at them when they enter the room, but you see him utterly light up as even his eyes begin to shine. Or, on his worse days, a softer smile and a slight relaxation from the tension in his body. As for how he shows his affection, he is a big fan of quality time - will often ask to spend the day with you if neither of you are doing anything. There’s never anything planned, particularly, but just your presence makes his day.

He's a very physically affectionate person, for sure. He likes to greet you with a hug, or a kiss on the nose, or a hand that immediately snakes out to get yours. Pippin is a big fan of having your hand in his and dragging toy around to show you something. Or to just rub his fingers over yours, feeling your warmth - being confident in your presence. The one thing he enjoys more than him holding your hand, is when you hold his instead. He immediately holds it tightly before forcing himself to relax, smiling at you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) I mean, do I even need to confirm that Pippin would be a stellar best friend in all departments? As for how it started, he generally acquires friends in two ways. There’s a meeting between the two of you and a goal, even a small one - and something in him knows the joy of you two working together isn’t just competitiveness. Or, it’s something that suddenly sneaks up on both of you. You’re well known faces to each other, you’ll smile at each other in passing - and then suddenly you’re the person he wants to tell his new jokes to. You’re the person he truly hopes to make laugh.

C = Courtship (How do they finally ask you out? What do they do in the days before?) Pippin is very, very nervous beforehand - and a lot of that is channelled into nervous energy. The kind that keeps him up when only the stars are awake with a few burning questions in his mind. Why wasn’t he paying attention when you discussed your favourite types of butterflies? Why hadn’t he seen which slice of tart you’d stolen off his place? Did you like him?

That’s the thought that truly keeps him up, and the one he desperately wants to know the answer to. Eventually, it’s Merry that can’t stand his friend’s jitters and glances that are an odd mix of nerves and slightly pathetic pining. You can see the two exchanging words before Merry pats him on the back and disappears; Pippin is slightly red as he turns to you and clears his throat to speak, before going silent again. Just as you think you’ll have to prompt him to speak, he manages to blurt out. “I- I like you. Give me a chance? Please?”

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) Before the war, Pippin had always wanted to settle down because that’s all he ever thought he could have. And he was content with that, mostly. Almost all of the way. There was a Tookish part of him that wanted to wander the world and see all the great sights.

After the war Pippin knows how much he values having a home and safety, although he still feels the need to move sometimes. Not to see the great walls of the White City, or how the trees are beginning to bud in Emyn Arnen - but to see the people there. Home becomes more of a people than a place for Pippin. And although he’ll happily settle in the Shire for a while - he does become its Thane, after all - some of his heart still wants to wander with you. 

Pippin is good at cooking in the way every hobbit is, although he’s not particularly skilled. He gains a love for looking at recipes and experimenting with them after the War of the Ring. He doesn’t leave dirt around the house but is not the best at clearing up after himself - so you do have to remind him not to keep his stuff everywhere within your home.

E = Effort (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, everyday tasks?) Before the Fellowship, he has very few responsibilities - meaning you’re absolutely his number one priority. (You’re his number one priority after the war as well, of course, but Shirethain duties can disrupt his plans sometimes.) Pippin absolutely celebrates your first week-aversary, and your first month-aversary, even if it’s only by getting a tart with a candle in it and whispering something to you as he leans in for a kiss.

Pippin doesn’t always plan everything perfectly, but you can tell how much he cares by the sheer love that comes through every one of his actions - the planned ones of laying out your favourite foods, and the spontaneous ones as he looks at a clear night sky and drags you out to look at the starts with him. Pippin is pretty good at doing everyday tasks, but will often forget them if they’re not in front of him/obviously need doing. He does give himself a little notebook once you move in so he doesn’t bother you - but when you do remind him of something he never holds it against you; he merely thanks you and starts to get it done. 

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) Normally, Pippin isn’t opposed to fooling around with people. When he first gets butterflies in his stomach he thinks it’s just another crush that’ll run through him eventually. Except it doesn’t, Except you stick around for him, appear in his thoughts and make him blush.The thought of you being a serious crush - of him actually being in love with you - gets into his mind.

It scares him a little, at the start.

But once Pippin realises that he genuinely wants you (possibly forever), he is very committed. It scares him but he’s also ready for it - he wants it because he wants you. At first you two being exclusive is a little intimidating, there’s a part of him that worries your love for him might be fleeting like his often is, but your love reassures his nerves and it slowly gets better. He originally wants to get married very quickly, but realises that’s not entirely responsible. He ends up waiting around two years, but on some days beforehand he’s been incredibly tempted to just ask you. Even if it’s not quite sensible.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) Pippin is gentle in the sense that he wants to make sure you always feel loved, and hell try his best to ensure you feel that. However he can be a little chaotic sometimes; he’ll run into your arms to give you a hug or he’ll convince you to do something spontaneous and slightly crazy with him. These actions aren’t always gentle per-say, but they do come from a place of love and care. And you know that he’d never actually hurt you, or take his actions too far. (He has accidentally bowled both of you over when he ran into your hugs, once. Gave you a lot of get-better kisses to make up for it.)

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like? What about cuddles?) Like all hobbits, Pippin is a big hugger and a big cuddler. As previously mentioned, he will often hug you when he greets you - and that hug is often delivered as he runs up to you. Depending on how easy it is to bowl you over he'll adjust accordingly; if you need him to be gentle he'll slow a bit before your embrace, if you can take it he'll just run into you as all his energy goes from running at you to embracing you. (This does take a little trial and error to gauge how good you are.)

He's also rather clingy when the two of you are together or when he's nervous, so a lot of cuddles occur during the Fellowship. If your taller than him he often leans on you as if he's about to fall asleep, letting himself perfectly meld to your form before he sneaks his arms around you. If he's taller, he likes to hug you and feel you gently rest against him - it's very reassuring. Big cuddler as you're falling asleep.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) Very quickly, to the extent he sometimes regrets it. When it slipped out he did truly mean what he said - he has for a long time and now always will - but it was very early. Early enough you seemed skeptical for a moment, before you'd seen the look in his eyes and realised it was true. Sometimes he wonders if it would have been nicer to save it so you'd be sure when he confessed, but he also knows that wouldn't be true to himself. (And looking back, you can be sure he's always been devoted to you.)

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) Pippin gets pettishly jealous quite a bit around strangers, like when someone dances too close to you at The Green Dragon. That being said he trusts you not to do anything, and there's generally only a friendly glower at the person - and then he demands time and your affection. It's not really in Pippin's nature to get truly jealous, because in his heart he is secure in your love for each other. That being said he can get jealous - and it generally comes from insecurities.

There's times when you and Merry are discussing some more lofty idea that he just doesn't understand, and he's jealous of the two of you. But that jealousy is born out of fear that you've found someone 'better' than him. It can be soothed by spending time with him after, he'll try to make you laugh and when you do the bitter emotion quickly begins to melt away. He gets a little jealous of the male members of the Fellowship, and is more annoyed by the fact he can't really be sassy to them.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) Pippin’s kisses are a perfect medium between constant and airy, and deep and singular. He doesn’t tend to shower you with lots of small kisses (unless he’s trying to get your attention and you're alone) but it’s rare for him to deepen and extend them for too long. Instead, a hand will gently place itself in yours and Pippin gives you a look that you’ve come to know - a quiet ask for permission. He’s gotten good at reading your facial expressions to not need to ask before he does or doesn’t lean in (although sometimes, and especially in the early days, he would briefly ask “may I?” before fully leaning in.)

Sometimes Pippin will greet you or get your attention with a brief kiss on the forehead, or whatever exposed skin he can reach, but it’s rarer and almost always in private. Usually it happens when he curls up to go to bed beside you, too sleepy to have intellectual conversation or whisper something romantic in your ear. He loves to be kissed on the lips as he kisses you, and loves when you initiate it as well. Although Pippin doesn’t give a large amount of feather-light kisses in a row to you, he absolutely loves receiving them.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) Pippin is great with children - he’s very entertaining (both in telling tales and in general antics) and a good listener. Pippin is also very good at making them feel at ease and reassured, something you can especially see with more shy kids when he finally coaxes a laugh from them. Before meeting you he wasn't sure if he really wanted a family (aside from it being the traditional hobbit thing to do), but with you by his side he thinks that he’d like one if you would.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Pippin is not an early bird, so if you are you’ll definitely be awake before him. As you get out the covers it’s both adorable and sad how, even in his sleep, he seems to reach for you and let out a little whine as you leave him. He has an uncanny sense for when you’ve started to cook first breakfast and will stumble out of bed at around that time, going to give you a hug and attempting to lean on you as he tries to wake up (does have to be swatted off if you’re cooking something). Although he tends to look around hopefully for a spare piece of toast and such, once he’s more awake he’ll happily make his own meal and doesn’t expect to be allowed to steal from your plate.

If you’re a late morning riser as well, it tends to be a coin-toss as to who’ll get up first. On the occasions he does, he tends to hold you in his arms for a little while as his perfect way to start the day. If you haven’t woken up in the time it takes for him to feel slightly more awake, Pippin will slowly disentangle himself from you and begin to make some form of breakfast (generally for the both of you, but occasionally you’ll shuffle out of bed and only be given a sheepish look. He always has coffee for you, however.)

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Part of the reason Pippin wakes up so late is because he tends to stay awake into the night. Whether it’s star gazing or writing something down, inspiration seems to strike him as the sky begins to grow inkier. Because of this he’s generally the one to cook for the both of you for supper (after the war he especially enjoys experimenting with new ingredients, knowing the larder’s full if anything too catastrophic happens). If he feels tired and you go to sleep early he’ll crawl into bed with you even if he knows he won’t sleep for a while. A lazy kiss is pressed onto you as he crawls under the covers, and he’ll hold you in his arms until you’re asleep (and probably longer, because he loves it as well).

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Pippin is a very open and honest person, especially as for a lot of his life he really has no big, dark secrets to hide. If anything, he tends to overshare while talking and telling a tale without realising. It’s rarely inappropriate or too revealing, just something you didn’t need to know - or wouldn’t have expected him to be willing to share with you. If there’s anything you want to know about him you only need to ask (as he keeps reminding you at the start of your relationship).

During and after the Fellowship he does have darker things to share, and although he doesn’t tell them to passing strangers or over a mug of ale he still tells you. This time it’s not because he’s oversharing, but because he loves and trusts you. He wants you to be aware when he’s not doing his best, just as he hopes you’d be willing to tell him (because he will be there for you).

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Over something serious? Pippin takes a while to get angry, and doesn’t particularly like confrontation so does his best to avoid it. He’s rather emotionally mature, so if he feels you’re doing something serious that might get him annoyed he tends to talk to you and express those views before he does something hurtful.

It can be rather amusing to watch him get frustrated at mundane things like his inability to open the jar of sauce. If it’s not serious he tends to be more free about expressing his anger, although it usually just manifests as glowering and ominous muttering under his breath at the lid until one of them finally concedes.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) He tries to remember everything, he truly does, but Pippin simply can’t. He remembers the big things, and a few smaller things he was determined to know (like your favourite flowers, and which outfit makes you feel most confident) but some things just slip through his fingers. In an attempt to combat this, he’ll generally try to write them down in a little notebook.

Some days not being able to recall details he knows he should gets to him, and he does need a little reassurance; you telling him it’s okay as he apologises to you and swears that he doesn’t love you any less because of it.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?) Pippin would be loath to choose just one - you're so wonderful to him all of the time. But one of the memories he thinks most fondly of, and will cheer him up when he remembers it, is your first kiss together.

It had been one of your first official dates together, and he had practically been vibrating with nerves. The nervous energy had turned into just energy for him, and he'd been showing you around some of his favourite places in the Shire for a while. Guiding you while holding  your hand, using his other to point out things.

Eventually, the two of you had sat down in one of the meadows together. Just talking. With Pippin staring at you and hoping he'd done a good job. And then, your hand had found his in the grass. Holding it, and then giving a gentle squeeze. Pippin could feel his heart beating so fast he thought it might burst, and then you'd rolled to face him. There was a second as you'd stared at each other, smiling and hopefully not awkward. Then, he'd started to close the gap between the two of you.

And you'd kissed him back. 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) Similar to jealousy, Pippin doesn’t often feel the need to be ‘protective’ over you - he’s confident in your relationship. That being said, there are certain hobbits he knows will flirt with anyone (mainly because he sometimes used to hang out with them) and he’ll keep an eye out for them. If he feels they’re getting too close he’ll put an arm around you and try to get you in conversation, a secret challenge in his mind to get you to laugh loudly enough that one of them will hear - so that they’ll know the two of you are together.

For a little while after Boromir taught him swordplay he tried to show his defensive capabilities to you, except that fell slightly flat as there weren’t many people to try and protect you from. Secretly, Pippin wants to be protected by you wrapping you arm around him - or pulling him behind you in the immediate face of danger. You can guess at the first one from the light blush he gets when you do act like that, although the second one is a secret he’s taking to the grave.

T = Trinkets (Do they give gifts to you? What kind of gifts do they give?) Always manages to find something to give to you while the two of you are out walking together. A turn is coming up around the walking trail and you'll go slightly ahead, before stopping when you realise you can’t hear him talking to you anymore. And then he reappears with something new in his hand to gift to you. Often it’s a flower that he weaves into your hair, or starts to make a chain out of (to present to you at the end of the walk), although sometimes it’s a more permanent gift like a rock with a unique pattern. 

Being a rich kid, he’s also able to shower you with gifts quite often - although he understands that they can get a little overwhelming and tries to abstain from getting you truly beautiful and expensive things (except on rarer occasions). When he allows himself to spend his money, he’ll often talk to Bilbo about getting a message into Dale so the necklace or ring he’s getting you can be perfect (as he looks through the book of all your favourite things to ensure you’ll like it). Pippin also does the game where he puts it into your hand with your eyes closed and tries to make you guess what it is.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) He can be quite absentminded at times, so things won’t always get done without you reminding him and his things can often be found strewn among your house. That being said, he takes being reminded of it well and will try to get onto the task as soon as possible. Pippin can also be pretty impulsive and not always think about deeper consequences to his actions before acting.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) Pippin is fairly concerned with his looks, because looking nice makes him feel good and confident about himself. He’s not going to spend hours in front of a mirror each day, but you will find him trying on a new outfit in front of it and making about six different poses you’ve never seen him do before. Also, because of his social status he feels an obligation to look neat and presentable at all times (especially once he becomes Thain).

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) If you asked Pippin this before he met you, he’d instinctively want to say no - then think for a moment about his friendship with Merry - and then still say no. After he’s started to court you, he knows the answer is yes. You’re the first person he’s ever truly wanted to settle down with, to get married too. He could possibly love again, but you’ll be his first love in so many ways - to an extent he’ll never truly be complete.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) Once he becomes Thain, Pippin commissions a little wax stamp for him to sign official documents with. He asked Aragorn for advice about it, and also treats it a little like his child. If the two of you never have children, he sometimes jokes that this can be your honorary child. (You’re rather glad it isn’t, seeing how frequently he manages to misplace it).

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) Pippin wants someone who can laugh at his jokes and be free and whimsical with him, especially pre-Fellowship. Although he doesn’t mind having a more serious and grounded partner, it’s something he welcomes in a lot of aspects, he needs someone who he can make laugh - or at least smile in that special way. It’s one of the main ways he expresses his love, and if people can’t show that they understand it and appreciate it, then he becomes more insecure (and he can’t deal with that for a long-term partner).

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) As I’ve said, goes to bed late and wakes up late. Can change this sleep schedule sometimes if it’s important After the Fellowship it becomes a little better purely out of habit, although you regard it more as a sign of his healing when he begins to revert back to his normal ways. To your pleasant surprise, he’s actually not too bad of a blanket thief although is very clingy

A/N: Got 3/4 of the hobbits down now! Sam is theoretically second in line to get an alphabet, but I hope people have enjoyed Pippin's one. It's actually my longest to date ❤️

thank you for reading ✧my masterlist *･༓˚✧ Taglist: @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @xiaoseminence / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan / @wordbunch / @bespectacledhuman / @howling-medic / @paigemackenzie0206 / @northernwing / @awayaesworld / @permanently-nothere / @weirdosheep / @joyismm / @fleurdemiel-145 / @aghostlywhisper / @seduseamedusa / @luckymentalityunknown ✧ wish to be tagged?

[odeverload]

I love the idea of being with subby nuggetz.

imagine them always bickering about you, but if one of them gets too mean, he's forced to stand in the corner and watch while you pleasure the other

subby nuggetz...save me subby nuggetz...

im writing this in more of proper fic style than before! ty for the req this is great :))

cw: sub!gaon and jooyeon, dom!reader, afab!reader, impact play, hair pulling, oral (f and m recieving), threesome duh

nsfw under the cut !

jooyeon and jiseok are literally the human embodiement of two bumbling overexcited puppies, and you're no stranger to it. your two lovely boyfriends, as much as they love you, also love to tease the shit out of you. you'd be grocery shopping with them, looking through aisles for eggs and toilet paper. you pushing the shopping cart, jiseok obediently following you and pointing out the things you need, and jooyeon running off somewhere to find the candy and chip aisle. jiseok had been quiet for a suspicious amount of time, so you turn around to catch him staring at your ass unashamedly. a stern glance perks his head up again, and you continue your shopping. that is, until you reach a secluded area of the store, and jiseok finally corners you and practically glues himself to your backside.

"s-sorry, couldn't help it, you look really good today baby-fuck." he says as he grinds into your ass, his growing bulge pressing into the material of your pants. "y-you think i can, uh-f-fuck you right here? no one's gonna see i promise.." you gasp, and jiseok takes the opportunity to shove a finger into your mouth. while a part of you wanted to put him in his place, the other (much louder) part of you felt your knees buckle a little when jiseok nibbled on your ear continued to press his already fully hard dick against your pants, hoping for any kind of friction to help his situation. in that moment, jooyeon comes reeling around the corner of a shelf, many colorful cereal boxes in hand. if he wasn't as tall as he was he'd be mistaken for a kid in a candy store. "they finally had all the different boxes in stock so i can get the toys! wanna see-" he stops himself mid-sentence upon seeing jiseok shuffle away from you awkwardly with a huge tent in his pants, and both of your lips puffy from making out. you glance at jooyeon, who now had a situation of his own growing in his sweats. without so much as a glance at jiseok, you respond curtly. "go wait in the car. we're going home so i can show both of you who's really in charge."

jiseok really doesn't know when to behave sometimes. a part of you wonders if he acts out just so he can get punished. while he tends to be the lesser brat between the three of you (jooyeon wins in that category any day), when he misbehaves it's bad. straight up nearly pulling your pants down in broad daylight and fucking his cock into you until he cums all over your chest, moaning and cleaning up his mess with his tongue sucking at your tits. you've never been caught thank god, but you're sure jiseok wouldn't mind a bit of an audience. so you decide to give him one. except not in the way he wants.

you have jiseok seated on one end of the bed, wrists loosely tied in front of him and a vibrator below his leaking cock, begging to be touched. he's damn near tears at the lack of proper stimulation, but it's not like he can do much about it. he's too focused on the way jooyeon is squirming in your lap as you stroke his aching cock. you make sure to keep eye contact with jiseok, never taking you eyes off of him as jooyeon mewls into your ear. his hips buck up, chasing an orgasm he knows won't be his last tonight. "silly puppy, keep looking at me. don't look at jiseokie, he's just watching tonight." jooyeon is practically humping your leg as you drag your fist up and down his length, squeezing every so often and earning a yelp from him. your naked body pressed against his back glistens with sweat and cum from jooyeon's previous orgasms, and jiseok can't stand not being able to grind against you and chase his release.

"c-can i please touch you-fuck, please? please i won't be bad again i promise i'll be a good boy plea-" you place your foot against jiseok's cock to interrupt him, pushing up against the vibrator so that it hits his aching tip.

and jiseok wails.

he humps up into the vibrator and your leg, and his eyes cross at the stimulation he was seeking for so long, even just this much. you giggle, looking at your two fucked-out puppies both chasing their climaxes. you removed jooyeon from your hold momentarily and scoot over to jiseok, his cheeks bright red and hands still tied, wrists stinging from being bound for so long. "oh baby" you smile, scratching his head behind his ears which earns you a loud groan from him, "you don't get to cum tonight, remember?" and with that, you turn around, leaving jiseok and his leaking cock untouched, and push jooyeon so that he's laying down. his eager eyes watch as you sit down on his cock all at once. you sit up so that his cock is just barely inside of you, and then drop down to the hilt, sending your puppy into an overstimulated frenzy. "ah-ah, fuck, p-please yes, fuck! thankyouthankyouthankyou-ah! so good, sososo good!" jooyeon bucks up into you wildly, and you can feel his cum slowly seeping out of you as he chases yet another high. you turn around to glance at jiseok again, and he's right where you left him; cock still upright and an angry red color, the vibrator now covered in his precum. a tear rolls down his face at the understimulation, and you're sure he's learned his lesson. for now.

author's note: thank u for being patient y'all i'm packing for a trip rn and haven't had the chance to sit down and write! but i hope to crank out some reqs on my long flight in a few days :) hope this was what anon had in mind, i love me some subby pathetic men ! tags: @breakffastclub @enemyjoo

[milfygerard]

what do you think stops taylor from being conventionally "cool"? love your takes!

nice thing about not having a taylor URL or icon is that i can say its probably because she's noticeably autistic and wont get burned at the stake bc swifties dont care about me and only have to deal w me when a post goes viral once in a blue moon

[lesbianraskolnikov]

I always feel like his kindness towards children does reflect his true character well. Both notable incidents are intense moments but his reactions well. With sonya sister feels super kind and sweet hes so sweet to her and the burning building will sound silly but he was also altruistic enough to save them himself which is still crazy to me. What more must be written to show you his altruistic core. What else

[unproduciblesmackdown]

costume design, set mockup, and rehearsal photos from this guide to the show that's like really thorough in providing Context like, mini articles about the creators of the original movie, musical, and movie musical, about other versions of productions, the history, quotes of other commentary, interview quotes, context of other / preexisting genres like b movies, faustian stories, "what if a plant was weird" stories, glossary of terms (such as references that may generally be less obscure if you were in the '60s, e.g.), suggested further reading....haven't read it top to bottom but i think it's fantastic, link to the pdf as post source

[i-love-zelda-16]

oooh fun!! minute, flinch, and bright

these are all going to be from Holding On :D

minute: SLKFJGSDKLFJGS @sprite-and-the-bunnydragons OH YEAH THIS LOLL

See, Hyrule had kept a secret from the Chain. For about two and a half hours now. Still hadn’t beat his record of five hours and twenty-three minutes of “secret-keeping” from when Wild had stolen everyone’s socks and dumped them into a nearby river. Except for Hyrule’s. No one wanted to touch Hyrule’s socks. According to Warriors, they were “classifiable as biological weapons”.

flinch

”You know, uh, the Master Sword?” Twilight could see a small change in Time’s expression, ever so slight. He noticed the way he flinched and his breathing quietly increased in pace. Just those two words, Master Sword, had so much weight, especially for Time.

bright

”I… c-can’t,” he whispers to the voice. “I can’t go out there. It’s too bright. The sword is burning me too, do you see these small flames?”

open tags because i’m 1, lazy, and 2, cool 😎

OKAY GO!!!!! your words are sing, breathe, and sprint.

i’m doing more because this is fun and why not lol

drop

The blade dripped with more black blood. He immediately dropped the Phantom Sword to the ground, catching her as she fell limply.

gasp

”… Wind?” He quietly responded, to which he then heard a quick gasp.

dark

He still looked how he always looked. Messily parted dirty-blonde hair, that one strange pink left sideburn, the stained, muted-blue hat, that same old red tunic, the dark viridian undershirt with the pleated part he swore wasn’t a dress, and his bare legs boasting some nasty crimson gashes.

brush

Revali brushed him off with a flick of his wing. “It’s fine, don’t worry. They’re… somewhere over there. I don’t know, really. Mipha saw some kind of mushroom she wanted to show you or something.”

steal

He plucked another flower from the ground, silently apologizing to the forest spirits for stealing their hard work. This one was smaller, with only four red petals and a yellow center. He tied it onto the chain.

spark

But it wasn’t too much the Bombos Medallion couldn’t handle. Legend once again let sparks erupt across the field in a burst of red heat and light. The wonderful burning sensation spread throughout his body, even more powerful each time he used it. It felt great. He felt great, powerful now too. Maybe he didn’t need the others; maybe he could just handle this on his own.

drip

Another, and his forehead was sliced open, and more scarlet liquid began dripping down his face.

swallow: (actually one of my chapters is called Swallowed!)

“The Traveler said he couldn’t remember much,” Time said again, breaking through the silence. He hesitated before continuing, and Twilight could hear him swallow. “What about you, Pup? D’you remember anything?”

snap

Twilight snapped out of his trance. “You really think so?”

aware

He didn’t understand what was up with Legend. Of course, he was aware of what had happened the day prior, but why was he so scared? Hadn’t the Hero of Legend seen enough things to not be scared of his friend who had been possessed but was fine now?

silent

Four stayed silent for a moment. Hyrule ached with guilt.

Word Search Tag Game

Rules: In a new post, use the words below (or choose your own) to find where they appear in your WIP/s and share those parts.

thanks for the tag @turtleduckscribbles !!

my assigned words are slip, delicate, and fire. I couldn’t find anything for delicate though, so I’m using gentle instead (and going with the assumption that I can use any verb tense or whatnot as well lol)

****

His expression slackened and he fell to the side, katana slipping from his grasp.

****

Wild raced around behind him, gently lifting up Twilight’s shoulders and propping him up against his knees.

****

As the captain reached for it, a blur of blue darted out of nowhere, Wind snatching the skewer from Wild’s hand and hopping to the other side of the fire.

****

I’ll tag @alicewritingstories @bluevaractyl and @hero-of-the-wolf (if’n you want!)

and how about snap, aware, and silent for words?

[chocolate-cream-soldier]

-.-

[nanamisgirly]

˖ 𑣲 comments and reblogs are always appreciated ma girliiies <333 SERIES

virgin!nerdjo, ever the diligent student, stumbles upon tutorial on nipple sucking—so what does he do? he goes to the nearest pharmacy and buy a baby bottle to practice on. he got a baddie to please, after all. one who's already let him come inside her by the way and in record time. but also one who's experienced. and he's…well, him.

virgin!nerdjo frowns at the taste the moment he tries it, straight-up plastic. but still, he follows the video instructions step by step, phone in one hand, bottle nipple in his mouth, trying his best to mimic the motions—rewinding it over and over determined to get it right.

but of course, he's super bad at hiding stuff :( so the next time you're in his room you spot it on his desk, half-hidden behind his clutter of notebooks and cables. it's sightly chewed at the tip. and it definitely got your attention. “satoru…is this…yours?”

virgin!nerdjo goes red in seconds—like a cartoon character caught with porn.  “w-what? n-no…” he tries, voice already cracking. you look at him, eyebrows lifted, tilting your head in amusement as a smirk tugs at your lips like you knowevery single embarrassing thought he's ever had. 

he groans in defeat, “yes…it is.” his eyes are glued to the floor, cheeks blazing. he feels like if the ground could just swallow him whole right now, that'd be great. but for some reasons, his mouth had other plans, seems like it can't just shut up for his own good, “there was this video. a bunch of them, actually. about,um…nipple technique.” he stammers, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, eyes still avoiding yours “y'know like…oral stuff. and one of the top comments said it helps to practice on biberon because…it's kind of squishy? and it has resistance…” 

you just stare at virgin!nerdjo, blank and expressionless. he feels so so dump. even dumper than when he cum in two seconds top-chrono in you. “i wanted to do it right!” he blurts, tugging his collar, desperately trying to get himself out of this. “last time i—uh—i lasted like one second. inside you. and you were so nice about it, but i wanna be better. I wanna make you feel good, not just…blow in my pants and cry.”

you walk slowly to him, eyes soft, voice lower. “so you practiced. on a baby bottle.” he nods, mortified. “and did it help?”

“no…it tasted like a melted barbie leg. i almost threw up.”

the next thing virgin!nerdjo knows, you're pushing him onto the bed as you pull off your top—he freezes in place, mouth open, glasses fogging like he's in the middle of a hentai scene he never thought he'd survive. and from where you stand between his thighs, you can see the bulge tenting his pants. poor baby probably got hard just thinking about this moment :(

virgin!nerdjo has his big hands clutching your ass, as your fingers tighten in his white soft hair—pushing his face to one of your nipple. “c'mon, nerd, show me what you've learned.” 

virgin!nerdjo starts so awkwardly. there's too much tongue, too wet and sloppy—his teeth scrape a little too hard and you flinch. “ah—! ‘toru…gentle, you’re not chewing gum.” he recoils instantly, looking like he just failed a final exam. “shit! i'm sorry—i didn't mean to—fuck, i'm such an idiot, i—”

“heyy, baby," you coo, cupping his cheek, brushing his hair from his eyes. "it's okay. try again, would you?” he nods quickly at your words, blinking hard. you swear there are tears building in those pretty blue eyes but you don't have time to think about it as this time he goes slower, sucking tentatively, trying to remember the tutorial steps : tongue flat, lips soft, light suction—add it progressively. he's shaking with focus, sweat dotting his brow as if he's taking an exam worth his entire GPA.

but it seems to work because your whimpers grow louder, virgin!nerdjo's tongue turns messy, fast. he's drooling and panting as his hand clutch to your ass like he might float off the bed. every gasp you make goes straight to his cock. he grinds on your lap helplessly, every moan from you like a five-star rating on his progress. he groans, mouthing at your other nipple, “you taste so much better,” he muffle, tongue flicking on the neglected nipple.

virgin!nerdjo is leaking through his boxers, one hand going to the nipple covered in spit—massaging with his thumb, watching it shine. the other hand drops to your upper thigh, where he humps like a dog in heat.

“you're doing so good, such a good boy, aren't you?” virgin!nerdjo moans your name like a prayer, sucking harder, hips stuttering against your thigh—he's leaking all over himself, so desperate and clumsy.

your sweet virgin nerd couldn't help himself. he had to make a sticky mess in his boxer :(

✩*:.⸝⸝>o<⸝⸝.:*✩

[iraprince]

gonna show u guys a little opalescent highlight hack i threw together today

rainbow gradient above your main figure (i usually have all my main figure folders/layers in one big folder, so i can clip gradient maps + adjustments to it!). liquify tool to push the colors around a bit. STAY WITH ME I KNOW IT LOOKS STUPID RN I'M GOING SOMEWHERE WITH THIS

THEN: set it to add/glow (or the equivalent in ur drawing program), lower the opacity a bit, and apply a layer mask. then u can edit the mask with whatever tools you like to create rainbow highlights!!

in this case i'm mostly using the lasso fill tool to chip out little facets, but i've also done some soft airbrushing to bring in larger rainbow swirls in some areas. it's pretty subtle here, but you can see it better when i remove the gradient map that's above everything, since below i'm working in greyscale:

more granular rambling beneath the cut!

u could also just do this with a brush that has color jitter, but what i like about using layer masks for highlight/shading layers is how simple and reversible it makes everything. i can use whatever brushes i want, and erasing/redoing things is super low stakes, which is great when i often approach this stuff with a super trial-and-error approach.

example: have u ever thrown a gradient w multiple colors over an entire piece, set it to multiply etc, and then tried to erase it away to carve out shadows/highlights? it's super frustrating, bc it looks really good, but if u erase something and then change ur mind later, u basically would have to like. recreate the gradient in the area u want to cover up again. that's how i used to do things before figuring out layer masks!! but masking basically creates a version of this with INFINITE undo bc u can erase/re-place the base layer whenever u want.

anyway, back to rambling about this specific method:

i actually have TWO of these layers on this piece (one with the liquified swirls shown above, and another that's just a normal concentric circle gradient with much broader stripes) so i can vary the highlights easily as needed.

since i've basically hidden the rainbow pattern from myself, the colors in each brushstroke i make will kind of be a surprise, which isn't always great -- but easily fixable! for example, if i carve out a highlight and it turns out the rainbow pattern in that area is way too stripey, i can just switch from editing the mask to editing the main layer and blur that spot a bit.

also, this isn't a full explanation of the overall transparency effect in these screencaps! there's other layer stuff happening below the rainbow highlights, but the short version is i have all this character's body parts in different folders, each with their own lineart and background fill, and then the fill opacity is lowered and there's multiply layers clipped to that -- blah blah it's a whole thing. maybe i'll have a whole rundown on this on patreon later. uhhh i think that's it tho! i hope u get something useful out of this extremely specific thing i did lmao