#and just think it makes him look so sophisticated and mysterious

[meliake]

some Five doodles because s4 was greatly upsetting to witness

[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Rockstar;

Synopsis; Hired to babysit Jay’s daughter, you never expected the quiet tension between you two to turn into something more. Jay tells himself it’s just admiration, maybe loneliness... but one night, with tension hanging heavy in the air, he finally confesses what he feels for you.

Pairing; fem!reader X older rockstar dilf!Jay Genre; suggestive; fluff; tiny bit of angst Words; 2k Warning; horny stuff; body insecurities; cursing; mentions of alcohol; Author's Note: OMG IT'S FINALLY HERE!! I edited this so many times because I wanted it to be perfect. I hope you guys like it :( If you guys like this I was thinking I could make a two-part, longer version with more details. Let me know if you would like that! As always, thank you so much for all the love, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! Masterlist (might revise and edit later)

You weren't exactly sure when the gentle touches and long eye contact had changed, but you could feel it in your skin every time Jay was close. At first, you thought you were making things up in your head because you had a silly little crush on him, but it was impossible to deny it by now.

He used to ask you to move out of the way and never touch you, but lately, every time he wanted to pass by you, his large, calloused hand would gently rest on your lower back to guide you. Jay used to avoid making eye contact with you; you weren't sure why. But lately, his mysterious brown eyes never left yours when you spoke, causing goosebumps to rise on your flesh.

You could swear he was spoiling you, giving you presents that had nothing to do with your job. After all, he was a talented guitarist in a rising rock band, and since he couldn't spend much time at home, he had hired you to look after his three-year-old daughter.

He had been the one to reach out to you after hearing so many good things about your babysitting skills. Jay had asked one of the managers for your number because you also looked after their eight-year-old son. And to say you were good was an understatement.

The care you had for kids was endearing, and the kids loved you. They loved your creativity and ability to make fun, artsy things, your willingness to play with them for hours, to get them to sleep on time, and to eat everything.

Jay refused to admit that he was attracted to you. Why would he like a girl four years younger than him? It wasn't a big age gap—you were twenty-three, and he was twenty-seven.

But he knew he was lonely. After his ex-wife left him, he became very emotionally shut off, focusing only on his daughter and his band. So to him, it was obvious he wanted you because his daughter liked you, and he had been missing a woman's touch for too long.

Jay also realized that he was wrong very quickly. When one day you came into his house with red eyes and a puffy face because of a bad date, he knew he wanted you more than he could explain. And it wasn't just because you were a sweet, kind woman. It was the way you were always so well put together, your full lips always shiny, and the way your body swayed when you moved.

Your hair, your chest, your waist—he was completely drunk on you. And he felt gross for being attracted to you, because in his head, the age gap was too big. Soon his worries eased away when he opened up to his best friend Jake, who assured him he wasn't creepy, just horny.

In his eyes, you didn't feel the same — there was no way. You could hold eye contact with him for a long time without feeling shy; you wouldn't mind his presence close to you, and you would even help him fix his outfits before leaving for work.

But he was wrong, again.

You felt every single touch of his, every tiny glance. The heat of his fingertips against your waist, even through all the clothes. Your breath would speed up from his sophisticated perfume and his black hair, which had grown longer.

Now you're standing in the kitchen, by the refrigerator, the only light source being the soft light from the open fridge. You're holding a tall wine glass, sipping from it slowly as memories flood your mind.

You were standing in front of the tall mirror in the guest room, your hands sliding all over your body. Your eyes hesitated to look at your reflection in the mirror, the reality hitting you like a truck.

Since you've started babysitting for Jay, you had to stop going to the gym because he needs you more than your other kids. And since you're a person who gains weight easily, you're feeling insecure over the extra weight.

“Can I come in?” you heard Jay ask from outside.

“Yeah, sure.”

Jay walks inside the room, and his jaw nearly falls to the floor when he sees you, not believing that the dress he picked out for you fits like a glove.

“You look stunning, YN,” he complimented, eyes glued on the curves that were outlined by the red, silky dress.

“I do?” you ask hesitantly, your hands trying to hide your tummy.

“Hey,” Jay reached out for your hands, pushing them away from your body. “You look so beautiful. That dress has never looked better. It really highlights your curves; it makes you look classy yet sexy.”

A subtle smile grows on your lips, and you let out a small laugh. His words hit your heart harder than they should. Jay looks at your red cheeks and takes a step back, worried.

“I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I'm just trying-”

“You didn't, Jay. It made me feel good.” You interrupted him, assuring him that you were more than okay.

You can feel your cheeks heating up as you remember his words, loving the way it makes you feel cozy on the inside. But you were still unsure if he meant those words or just said them to comfort you.

During the whole night, Jay had his eyes on you, amused by your polite self talking to everyone while taking care of his daughter. You could feel his gaze on you, burning on your skin from afar. And when he got on that small stage and started singing, you swore he became unbearably hot.

Jay owned the stage with his presence and vocals, his skilled hand playing the guitar as if it were an extension of himself. And as he sang the romantic lyrics, his eyes locked with yours, his gaze intense yet sincere.

By that time, his daughter was sleeping on the trolley, still with a peaceful face despite the loud music. His manager approached you with a suspicious smile. Jay's best friend, whose name is Jake, stood by your side too, as Jay continued performing.

After the performance, Jay, his bandmate, and his manager disappeared for a while, going to a business room to discuss the new direction of the band with the new sponsor.

The first person he ran to tell the good news to was you. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pulled you into a tight hug. Jay had a smile so big on his lips that it made your heart flutter, happy for him.

“What are you doing here so late?” Jay's voice sounds from far away, pulling you out of your thoughts. He was now wearing some loose pajama pants and a t-shirt.

“Just thinking…” you responded with a small smile, taking another sip of the wine.

Jay walked closer to you and took in your figure once again. The red, silky dress that was loose yet tight enough to highlight all your curves, the tall red-bottomed heels he bought, and the heavy necklace resting on your cleavage.

He couldn't understand how you could feel insecure about your body when it had the most beautiful shape and thickness in all the right places. And it drove him mad.

“There's something I need to tell you. And it has to be today and now,” Jay pointed out in a stern voice, catching you off guard.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, worried, putting down the glass next to you on the counter.

Jay stepped closer but stood against the main island in the kitchen while you remained by the counter. He couldn't look better, illuminated by the blue light of the open fridge, his masculine features enhanced by strong shadows.

“I want to start by saying that I don't want anything to change between us.”

Your heart sped up as soon as those words left his mouth, and negative scenarios started forming in your head. He's going to fire me, you thought.

“Jay, if I did anything wrong, just tell me and…”

“You didn't do anything wrong, YN. On the contrary, you did everything right. Too right.” Those words failed to bring any comfort. Could you be fired for being too good?

“Jay-”

“Stop interrupting me, or I'll lose the last bit of confidence left in me,” Jay interrupted you, his hands shaking slightly as he took them out of his pockets and reached for the marble countertop.

You took a breath in, your chest feeling heavy and your heart breaking little by little. Does Daphne not like me anymore? Did he find out about the silly crush I have on him? Am I no longer good enough?

“I have feelings for you, YN. Feelings that I can’t control anymore…” Jay interrupted his speech with a pause. “I want to touch you, hold you, and kiss you. I want to ruin you. To be yours. I want to make you forget about all those bad dates you had in the past, make you sweat, and give you the best sex you’ve ever had.”

Jay stopped for just a moment to catch his breath and calm down his racing heart, but it all went down when he saw you. He could faintly make out the shape of the tears rolling down your cheeks. Silent and heavy.

“Why are you crying? Did I make you uncomfortable?” he questioned, stepping forward and holding your shoulders.

You let out a small giggle, your hand reaching out to wipe the small pearls away.

“Fuck, I thought you were going to fire me. But this is so much better,” you confessed, your cheeks turning red.

Jay was dangerously close—you could feel his warmth and breath against your skin. Your eyes found his, and he felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs.

“I’ve had a crush on you for a while, too, but it was unprofessional… so I kept it a secret.”

“You feel the same?” Jay was convinced that he was delirious.

“Fuck, yes, I do,” you laughed. “I always have.”

Silence filled the kitchen space as your eyes met Jay’s, his presence so close yet so far. His hands slowly and hesitantly slid down from your shoulders to your side, tracing your lines under his fingertips.

“That means I can do this?” Jay questioned in a low voice, his large hand traveling all the way down to your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. You bit your lip to stop a whimper from leaving your throat.

“You can do anything you want,” you assured him, stepping closer, so your chest touched his.

“Wait—” Jay whispered, his breath ghosting over your lips. “I not only want to fuck you, I—I want you to be my daughter’s new mom, my girlfriend.” He declares, eyes tense and glued to yours, needing to show you how honest he was.

“Jay, I would love to. I’m yours, completely.” You whisper, your hands moving to wrap around his neck as his grip on you gets tighter.

Jay doesn’t say anything else; he leans forward and seals your lips with his. The kiss is slow and loving, his warm, delicate lips moving against yours with precision and patience. Your hands sneak to his scalp, pulling the little hairs, causing Jay to let out a low moan against you. A smile grows on your lips, and you turn your head to the side, trying to deepen the kiss.

Something in Jay snaps, and the grip on your waist turns possessive. He takes two steps forward, trapping you against the counter. The kiss deepens, his tongue exploring your mouth and fighting playfully with yours as his eager hands move to the back of your thighs. He lifts you up and sits you down on the counter.

“Jay…” You whisper desperately, your body throbbing with desire. Your eyes find his, and you’re surprised they are completely different—dark and dilated, dripping with need. You haven’t seen them like this before, and it causes a wave of warmth to travel all over your body and pool at your core.

Jay remains silent while his hands pull your dress up, revealing more and more of your flesh. But his eyes are closed, and his mouth is attached to your neck, looking for that sensitive spot that would make you moan. When his full lips smooch the small spot just below your jaw, your mouth opens in an ‘O’ shape, and your hips press forward, harder against his hands.

“You smell so nice, sound so nice…” He speaks against your flesh, biting down just enough to leave a small mark. “I wonder how nice you feel… how nice you taste…”

Jay’s face leaves your neck for a few seconds to give you a quick kiss full of saliva and teeth, hungry and dizzying. Then he shows you a smirk he has never made before and drops to his knees. Your eyes follow his every move, completely hypnotized by the lust in his eyes.

From below, Jay’s hungry fingers travel further upwards your legs, from your foot to your knees and then your thighs. “Such soft skin, baby.” He compliments, and with no further warning, he yanks you forward, causing you to gasp in surprise.

Your covered cunt is inches away from Jay’s face. “It’s going to be a long night… and a long life…” Jay teases, his fingers feeling you up unhurriedly, making you wish you’d just confessed earlier.

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[camzeecorner]

𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙸𝚂 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙾𝙻𝙾 ₊˚ෆ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐔𝐎𝐔𝐒

smut ღ dividers → @bernardsbendystraws ฅ^._.^ฅ

𝙲𝙴𝙾!𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𐙚

Working for Mr. Sturniolo always seemed straightforward. He was often away, and even when he was home, our paths rarely crossed. Despite his youth, he maintained himself impeccably, and I admired that about him. Our interactions were limited to polite greetings, nothing more. I’d been his maid for three years, having taken over after he fired the previous one for stealing. A year into my employment, he invited me to live with him, a gesture of trust that I accepted without hesitation. At 22, living alone, the prospect of some company was appealing.

Living with him was uncomplicated. His demanding schedule kept him out of the house most of the time. I established a routine, ensuring I worked around the times he entertained guests. The house was expansive, requiring significant time and effort to maintain. Yet, I enjoyed my work. Mr. Sturniolo wasn’t difficult or strict. He had an air of mystery and sophistication that intrigued me, and I found myself looking forward to the rare moments our paths did cross.

“Valoree? My office, please.” Mr. Sturniolo's voice echoed down the hall. He only ever called me to his office when he had important information to share. Walking quickly, I approached his large door, knocking three times before hearing his voice granting me entry.

“Sir, you called for me?” I asked, stepping in. I stood a solid five feet away from his desk, knowing he didn’t like hovering. He cleared his throat, shutting his laptop before readjusting his blazer.

“Yes, I did. How’s your day?” he asked calmly, his face a mask of professionalism.

I offered him a warm smile. “Very good, sir, thank you for asking. And yours?” I returned the kind question.

“It’s uh...” he glanced to the side, as if searching for the right words. “It’s not too bad. Very slow, if I’m honest.” He smiled softly at me, a rare sight that made my heart skip a beat.

I nodded, acknowledging his words, and stood still, waiting for his next move. His eyes lingered on my small frame, making me feel both exposed and intrigued. “Valoree... the reason I called you in was because...” He paused, looking at me with an intensity that made my palms sweat.

I began to shift on my feet, growing increasingly nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. His eyes narrowed slightly, and my heart started to race. Had I done something wrong?

“Don’t be so nervous, doll... just sending an invitation your way.” He smiled, flashing his perfect white teeth, and chuckled lightly. My shoulders slumped in relief, and I exhaled a sharp breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Oh! How wonderful to hear. Thank you, sir,” I replied, my voice tinged with excitement.

“No problem, Val. I’ll have everything you need to know emailed to you before 7. Don’t worry about any preparations; it’s all on me. My treat.” His words were reassuring, and I couldn’t help but smile widely.

“Yes, sir, thank you,” I said, nodding enthusiastically.

He smiled back at me, his eyes softening. “Thank you, Valoree. You’ve been good to me and my home. I wanted to return the favor with a nice dinner.”

My heart warmed at his words, and I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. He was a true charm, and he knew it. “Thank you, sir,” I replied, feeling a mix of gratitude and anticipation.

“You’re welcome, doll.” His voice was low and smooth. He always called me doll, saying I resembled one. I found it both corny and cute, a charming quirk of his. Just then, his phone chimed, signaling an incoming message. “I’ve gotta take this, shut the door on your way out,” he instructed.

As I left his office, I couldn’t help but think about him. Back in my room, I lay on my bed, thoughts of Mr. Sturniolo swirling in my mind. I couldn’t deny that I found him incredibly attractive. He was undeniably handsome, and the fact that he had two identical brothers only added to his allure. I had met his triplet brothers briefly, just enough for a bit of small talk, but nothing more.

I often imagined what it would be like if Mr. Sturniolo and I were friends. My interactions were mostly limited to his coworkers who came over in the mornings before heading out on business trips with him. I knew my life was small and lonely, but sometimes I thought it was better this way. It kept things simple, even if it meant longing for something more.

A small knock echoed at my door. I pulled myself off the bed and hurried to answer it. Opening the door, I was surprised to find my boss standing there. "Hey, I’ve gotta run somewhere really quick. Get dressed and I’ll meet you out front," he said hurriedly before disappearing as quickly as he had arrived.

He had never invited me to join him on his errands before. Excitement and curiosity bubbled up inside me as I quickly shut the door and walked to my closet. I picked out a nice sundress and my white pumps. The white dress contrasted beautifully against my smooth brown skin as I slid it on, carefully straightening the bottom to ensure it looked perfect.

I took a moment to look at myself in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric one last time before grabbing my purse. My heart was racing with anticipation. What could be so urgent that he needed me to come along? I stepped out of my room and made my way to the front of the house, where he was already waiting by the car.

He glanced up as I approached, a small smile playing on his lips. "You look nice," he remarked, opening the car door for me. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks as I thanked him and slid into the passenger seat.

As he drove, I couldn't help but steal glances at him. His focus was on the road, but there was a certain intensity in his eyes that made me wonder what was on his mind. The silence between us was comfortable, yet charged with unspoken words. Finally, he broke the silence. "I hope you don't mind me dragging you out like this. I just thought... it might be nice to have some company for a change."

His words caught me off guard, and I found myself smiling. "I don't mind at all," I replied softly. "It's a nice change of pace."

We continued driving, the cityscape giving way to more open roads. I couldn't help but feel a sense of adventure, not knowing where we were headed but trusting him completely.

We arrived roughly about 13 minutes later, stopping in front of a tall, imposing warehouse-like building. Mr. Sturniolo unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door with a swift, confident motion. "I’ll be back in about 3 minutes, just sit tight. If someone approaches you, just say you work for me," he instructed, his voice firm yet reassuring as he began to walk away. I smiled and nodded at his words, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. "Yes, sir," I replied calmly, watching him disappear into the shadows of the building.

As I sat in the car, the minutes seemed to stretch on longer than they should. The dimly lit surroundings and the eerie silence of the warehouse district made me feel uneasy. I glanced around, trying to distract myself, but my mind kept drifting back to Mr. Sturniolo's instructions. Suddenly, I noticed a figure approaching from the corner of my eye. My heart rate quickened as the person drew nearer. Remembering his words, I took a deep breath and prepared myself to say I worked for him, hoping they would pass by without incident.

The figure continued to approach, and I could now make out more details—a tall, burly man with a stern expression. He stopped right next to the car, peering inside. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice gruff and suspicious.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure. "I work for Mr. Sturniolo," I said as confidently as I could muster. The man scrutinized me for a moment, his eyes narrowing.

"Alright," he finally said, stepping back. "Just making sure. This area isn't safe for strangers."

With that, he walked away, and I let out a sigh of relief. Moments later, Mr. Sturniolo returned, a small, satisfied smile on his face. "Everything alright?" he asked as he got back into the car.

"Yes, sir," I replied, feeling a strange mix of relief and excitement.

When we arrived back home, Mr. Sturniolo parked the car and turned to me. "Remember, dinner is at 8 PM. Everything you need to know has been emailed to you," he reminded me before heading inside.

I nodded, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

I went straight to my room, eager to see what awaited me. As soon as I opened the door, my eyes were drawn to the beautiful dress laid out across my bed. A note was placed delicately on top, reading, "For tonight - Mr. Sturniolo."

I picked up the dress, admiring its elegance and the thoughtfulness behind the gesture. With a smile, I started getting ready for what promised to be an unforgettable evening.

As the clock ticked closer to 8 PM, I finished getting ready, carefully putting on the dress Mr. Sturniolo had left for me. It fit perfectly, making me feel more confident and excited for the evening.

I made my way downstairs, where Mr. Sturniolo was already waiting. He looked up as I entered the room, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "You look stunning, Valoree," he said, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer than usual.

"Thank you, sir," I replied, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks.

We headed to the dining room, where a beautifully set table awaited us. The ambiance was perfect, with soft lighting and a hint of music playing in the background. As we sat down, I couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation for what the night would bring.

Throughout dinner, Mr. Sturniolo shared the information he had mentioned earlier, discussing various topics and plans. The conversation flowed easily, and I found myself more drawn to him with each passing moment. Dinner began with a light appetizer, and as we started eating, Mr. Sturniolo poured us each a glass of wine. He raised his glass, and I followed suit.

"To a successful evening," I echoed, clinking my glass against his. The wine was delicious, and it wasn't long before I felt its warmth spreading through me.

"So, Valoree, tell me more about yourself," he began, his tone casual but genuinely interested. "We've worked together for a while, but I feel like there's still so much I don't know about you."

I smiled, feeling a bit more at ease with the alcohol loosening my nerves. "Well, there's not much to tell, really. I grew up in a small town, always dreamed of coming to the city. I guess you could say I'm still adjusting to the fast pace of it all."

He nodded thoughtfully. "The city can be overwhelming, but it has its charms. What's been the biggest adjustment for you?"

"Probably the noise," I admitted with a laugh. "Back home, it was so quiet at night. Here, there's always something happening. It took me a while to get used to it."

"I can imagine," he said, refilling our glasses. "But you've adapted well. You're doing a great job here."

"Thank you, sir," I said, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the wine. "I really appreciate that."

"Please, call me Chris," he insisted, a playful smile on his lips. "We're off the clock now."

"Alright, Chris," I said, testing the name on my tongue. It felt strange but good. "What about you? What's your story?"

He leaned back in his chair, swirling his wine thoughtfully. "Oh, where to begin? I grew up here, in the city. Always knew I wanted to go into business. It's been a long journey, but I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Any regrets?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Not many," he said after a moment. "But if I had to pick one, it would be not taking enough time to enjoy the little things. Life moves fast, and sometimes I forget to slow down."

We continued to talk, the conversation flowing easily as the wine continued to flow. We shared stories, laughed, and learned more about each other. I found myself drawn to his confidence, his intelligence, and the way he seemed to genuinely care about what I had to say.

As the night wore on, we both became a bit more relaxed, our words slurring slightly as the alcohol took its toll. At one point, he reached across the table, his hand brushing against mine. "I'm really glad we did this, Valoree," he said softly. "It's been a long time since I enjoyed myself this much."

"Me too," I replied, my heart racing at his touch. "It's been a wonderful evening."

We continued to talk, our voices growing softer as the night deepened. The connection between us felt stronger with each passing moment.

“Why don’t we go to my room. It’s much more comfortable in there” He spoke suddenly breaking off my thoughts.

“Oh- okay,” I giggled slightly, the alcohol in my system making me giggle more than usual. I got up, stumbling over my feet a little. We headed into his room through the wide, large doors. He stepped aside, letting me enter first. His room was simple yet inviting, decorated in shades of grey, white, and black. It was casual, just like him. The bed was neatly made, and the floor was spotless. A warm, comforting scent of burning wood filled the air, wrapping me in a sense of coziness.

"It's not often we're alone together," he began, moving beside me to catch a glimpse of my profile. "I've had a fantastic evening with you. It's been a while since I could just relax and have some fun."

I turned slightly to face him. "I'm thrilled you enjoyed your time as much as I did. Dinner was incredible," I beamed. "I didn't know you cooked." He chuckled softly. "I don't. Not often, really." I nodded.

"You look stunning as well." He gazed into my eyes, a fiery passion lighting up the room. I glanced down, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. I nervously bit my lip, a telltale sign of my unease.

"Thank you. You've got great taste," I playfully replied. He stepped closer, sweeping my curls over my shoulder. I observed his face as he inched nearer to me.

"I couldn't picture anyone else in this dress but you. A true doll," he whispered, leaning in by my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine.

He pulled me closer to his body, wrapping his arm around my torso. “But you’d look much better…” he trailed off, his fingertips delicately tracing the edge of my ribbon. With a swift, practiced motion, he undid the knot, letting the dress flow as it slipped slightly. “With it off.”

I gasped as the cold air kissed my back, making me shiver. I jumped slightly, instinctively clinging to his warm body for comfort. His hands found my bare back, gliding down with a gentle but possessive touch.

“Just as I imagined. Even more beautiful.” He leaned his head back, locking eyes with me, his gaze filled with admiration and desire.

I opened my mouth, ready to speak, but the room was met with silence, too shocked to form words. I blinked a few times, trying to gather my thoughts. “Chris…” I began, my voice barely a whisper. Maybe it was all the alcohol he had consumed moments before that made him feel so powerful.

“Hm?” he questioned, his eyes dark with intent. His lips met my neck, quickly tracing kisses down to my shoulder. His lips were soft and delicate, treating my skin as if it were fragile paper. Carefully caressing me, he massaged my skin with a tenderness that sent shivers down my spine. I gasped from the sensation, his lips tracing around me, igniting a fire of pure lust within.

I pulled my body towards him, caught in the intensity of the moment. It was unprofessional to kiss your boss, I knew that, but I couldn’t stop myself. My heart raced as I found his face, gently pulling it closer.

I kissed him lightly, our lips brushing softly. “Was that okay?” I asked, my voice trembling with anticipation. “Sweetheart, that’s all I’ve been wanting all night,” he replied, his voice husky with desire.

I pulled my body towards him once more, our lips meeting in a passionate kiss. A soft moan escaped me as our tongues danced together, a fiery sensation enveloping us. Lost in the intensity, my fingers tangled in his hair, pulling gently. His hands explored every inch of my body, tracing my curves with a burning desire.

Slowly, I began unbuttoning his crisp white shirt, careful not to damage the delicate fabric. As I slipped it off, I couldn't help but admire his perfectly toned chest, the faint outline of a six-pack and the alluring V-line peeking from his trousers. He was breathtakingly beautiful.

I looked up at his face again, my eyes tracing every detail of his striking features. His chiseled jaw, the sparkle in his eyes, the way his lips curved into a gentle smile—all of it captivated me. I couldn't help but smile back at him. "You're very handsome," I whispered, my voice barely audible. His smile widened, and he brought his hand to my cheek, his touch gentle and warm. "Thank you," he murmured, before pulling me in for another kiss.

Our lips met, moving in perfect harmony, each kiss deepening our connection. Suddenly, I felt his hands slide under me, lifting me effortlessly. I gasped, caught off guard by his strength and the sudden movement.

He carried me effortlessly, his strength evident in the way he held me close. I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. He walked us to the bed, gently laying me down. His eyes never left mine, filled with a mix of desire and tenderness. He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "I want to make this moment unforgettable." His words sent shivers down my spine. As he began to explore my body with his hands and lips, every touch felt electric, igniting a fire within me. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of us, lost in each other.

He began trailing light feather like kisses down my body. Placing each kiss with love I couldn’t help but feel the wetness between my legs. I bit my lip suppressing the sound.

He placed a kiss right above my heat, his lips leaving a trail of fire on my skin. His fingers moved slowly, teasingly, towards my folds. I couldn't help but thrust my hips slightly, desperate for any touch. "Be patient, doll, okay? Can you do that?" he whispered, his voice husky with desire. I nodded eagerly, my breath hitching. "Yes, I can," I replied, my voice trembling with anticipation. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the moment, savoring every sensation he bestowed upon me. Each touch, each kiss, sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body, making me crave more.

He slowly pulled my legs apart, his eyes never leaving my face. I could feel the intensity of his gaze, a hard stare that made my heart race. Not daring to look at him, I swallowed hard, my breath catching in my throat. Suddenly, I gasped as I felt his mouth attach to my lips, the sensation overwhelming. "Oh—Chris... mm," I whimpered softly, the sound barely escaping my lips. It had been so long since I felt this way with a partner. Life had kept me so busy that I never had time to find someone, and now, every touch, every kiss, felt like a rediscovery of forgotten pleasure.

"Does that feel good, doll?" he asked, his voice low and filled with desire. I nodded, barely able to form any words, my breath coming in shallow gasps. I felt his hair brush against the inner part of my thigh, tickling me slightly and adding to the overwhelming sensations. My body twitched, overpowered by the intensity of the feelings. His tongue lapped up every drop that pooled from me, making it nearly impossible to keep my composure. His tongue moved at a fast pace, expertly working its magic. I sighed deeply, the pleasure coursing through me like a wave, each stroke of his tongue sending shivers down my spine.

I felt his fingers enter into me slowly. Gasping at the feeling i exhaled loudly. “Oh my.. Chris please. Please don’t stop.” I begged and whimper pathetically. I tugged on his hair as he sucked at flicked at my clit. His fingers pushing in and out of me like a machine.

He rubbed my clit slowly in small circles. As he began working his fingers I felt small kisses being placed on my thighs. We were truly making love.

I was so close to coming undone, I was sure he could tell by the way my legs shook slightly. As I felt my legs begin to close instinctively, he grabbed me with his free hand, firmly forcing them to stay open. A whimper escaped my lips, my mouth hanging open as I struggled to hold back. The tension in my body built up, every nerve ending on fire, as his touch drove me closer to the edge.

"Chris, Chris, Chris," I chanted his name over and over, my voice growing more desperate with each repetition. My breaths came heavily and hard, my chest rising and falling rapidly. Suddenly, I felt the inside of my stomach explode with a rush of intense pleasure, the sensation radiating outwards. Every ounce of tension that had built up within me released all at once, leaving me trembling and breathless, my body finally succumbing to the overwhelming ecstasy.

I sighed, beginning to catch my breath. I sat up slightly, resting my body on my elbows. I looked at Chris as he licked his lips, savoring the taste. "Tastes sweeter than I imagined, doll," he chuckled. I smiled at him and wiped my forehead. "I'm glad you enjoyed that as much as I did." I gazed into his eyes, which sparkled with charm as he smiled at me. He pulled my face closer to his and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. "I'll go run you a bath. When you're out, I'll have a change of clothes laid out. Sleep in here with me tonight," he explained.

I couldn't help but smile, truly grateful for him and every experience he had shown me tonight. "Thank you, you don't have to do all that. And I can stay in my room, it's totally fine." He shook his head in protest. "No, I want you here with me. I just want to make sure you get a good rest and feel better."

I walked to the bathroom and sank into the tub, letting the warm water envelop me completely. The soothing soap bubbles caressed my skin, and I felt every muscle in my body relax. I had never been the type of girl to go crazy over love, but Chris had shown me something different. His gentle and caring tenderness made me realize how wonderful it feels to be treated with such love. As I lay there, soaking in the warmth, I couldn't help but feel grateful for him and the beautiful moments we shared.

Tag list - @shaquilles-0atmeal @monroesturnns @blahbel668 @mattssluttywaist @jetaimevous

[durgetavoc]

Yes I really want to know the horrors of the shit bucket. I’m quite surprised that he isn’t obsessed with cleanliness. He always struck me as the type but then again… I guess I’m wrong.

Oh god, here we go then.

SPOILERS FOR THE HOUSE OF HOPE

(CW for...The Shit Bucket Guy, obviously)

So, if we ever decide to go steal the Orphic Hammer, we can go visit The House of Hope, there, we obviously find Raphael's collection of artifacts, his eternal debtors, and one of them is… This guy.

You should know that all eternal debtors are condemned to a certain task/action. It's difficult to know if this has anything to do with their contract with Raphael, if it is a distortion of an already existing trait of their personality (for example, the Perfect Eternal Debtor, the Theologist Eternal Debtor or even the Voyeur Eternal Debtor) or if it's a way to completely dehumanize them (Loyal Eternal Debtor…My beloved :( ). It seems to be a mix of everything, that wouldn't be surprising if Raphael did what seemed most entertaining to him.

But let's focus on the Shit Bucket Guy, since he's the one that interested us today.

As our affectionate nickname for him indicates, we find him in front of a chamber pot with a visible green odorous cloud above it, which confirms us that it has been used (when you interact with the pot, here what the game says : "An overpowering stench singes your nostrils. Nothing good happened here."). The debtor doesn't appreciate us getting closer to it, and if we ask him if he is its guardian, this is what he answers:

His "name" in the game is "Unclean Eternal Debtor" and if you're taking a look at his face... Yeah, I guess he's not just guarding the pot. When we observe the animation of the character, he walks around the pot, makes a hand gesture to smell it, and that's it.

It has become a running joke in the fandom, particularly for us, little mouses. Those who have been to the House of Hope know about the Shit Bucket Guy... But nobody talks about him.

(Yeah I couldn't help it.)

It's not really surprising, the presence of the chamber pot, and not just any one, RAPHAEL'S, raises other questions. One might wonder if it's not a little OOC coming from someone like him.

Let's take advantage of this question to dig... A little deeper.

Here's, imo of course, why it's somehow relevant to show Raphael's chamber pot and what this tells us about him.

Shall we?

1. Don't be fooled by appearances, he POOPS like us!

Raphael. Raphael. Raphael who embodies sophistication, intellect and danger... Alluring and at the same time fearsome, a fascinating mix. Goddamnit, he's a suave motherfucker, and he fucking knows it.

In video games, it's part of the suspension of disbelief to not talk/show toilet, unless you're in a life simulation game like sims. It's not just taboo since it's one of the most private aspects of our life, but it's also... Not relevant to the intrigue most of the time.

Showing us something that intimate about him disintegrate his mysterious aura. We learnt that Raphaels shits. Yeah, absolutely astonishing. Reminding us that he's exactly at the same level as us. Like the title said, despite his charming manners, his eloquence, his theatrical gestures... He's still human, hells, part human.

2. In the Devil's house.

The first time we meet Raphael, he wastes no time in bringing us to his home, on his own terms. We only see one room, and this is what we see:

Luxurious place, lavish displays of food, ordered furniture... Promising, right? This is how Raphael wants to give as a first impression. I think this scene is perfect as a metaphor. Remember what Gale said? He's taking us to dinner! Like a date, he wants to impress us, seduce us.

But when we're back to this place during our improvised visit, what do we see?

Rotten food. Blood. Skeletons. Mess. Remind me of my room before I have to rush to clean everything because a friend comes over.

By choosing to enter Raphael's home, into his privacy, the game takes us on a tour of his home: we discover what is hidden behind Raphael's character. It is of course expected that we discover his secrets and/or aspects of his personality that he would not wish to reveal, at least not before we make a deal with him.

Haarlep, his incubus, also participates in this demystification. Through them, we can learn about Raphael's sexuality (I'll be quick on this since @bitethedevil did some really good analysis posts about it):

Raphael is only attracted to himself (hence Haarlep's appearance)

He is a bottom pillow prince

And he doesn't last in bed (a valuable information that can be used to anger Raphael later)

Once again, this is another very intimate aspect that is revealed to us. I'm sorry to say it, but Haarlep basically plays the same role as the chamber pot to accentuate the intimacy of the place and also to ridicule Raphael, thus revealing to us what he really is.

3. Raphael hates his father.

Our favorite cambion is having daddy issues, and the chamber pot seems like a nice response to the statue his dad gave him. It's a "blink and you'll miss it" kind of detail, but it's funny to point it out. Show don't tell as it's finest.

4. How bad it is to sell your soul to Raphael.

This one is easy... The Shit Bucket Guy is an example of Raphael's cruelty : "This is what could happen to you if you make a contract with Raphael."

Sure, it's funny because the whole thing is ridiculous: "Guardian of his chamber pot? Seriously?", but it's hard to really laugh at it if you take into account the other eternal debtors. The whole place is designed to make you uncomfortable, because it's not treated as a joke. They had a life, had to ask Raphael for help, and are now reduced to doing something degrading until the end of time. They don't even have a name anymore. They could be your Tav/Durge or your companions...

Suddenly, the temptation to make a contract with Raphael is less appealing after seeing all this, isn't it?

Conclusion : Now the question that burns our lips : What could this guy have done to him to be reduced to this? And why?

My first instinct when I met this character was to think, "oh boy, you must have really pissed off Raphael..." let's be honest, it's the kind of torture you could imagine to your worst enemy or at least a very annoying one.

It could be that, or maybe, mayyybe...

Remember Mephistopheles' statue?

What if Raphael was SO annoyed by this gift that he woke up one day thinking "fuck my dad, fuck his gift" and decided to literally shit on him by putting a chamber pot in front of this statue to express his thanks. And just like any narcissist/paranoid guy, he named a "guard" to be sure no one would spy on him through this (it sounds delirious, but again, we learn that Haarlep was send to distract Raphael, so why not?)

Sure, maybe Shit Bucket Guy annoyed Raphael in the past, but wouldn't that be kinda fucked up that this guy didn't do anything that would justify this treatment? He's just a dude, and Raphael is just a pissed-off daddy's boy (and a very mature one).

Or maybe, Raphael just thinks it's funny. And who are we to discuss a devil's sense of humor?

In any case, sorry Shit Bucket Guy, but it wasn't your lucky day.

PS: Hush, I can hear you wondering "do you think Raphael is scat???" and on this subject I would say: I don't think so, his narcissism is there after all, but he also seems really into humiliation. So maybe it's for the best we don't really know the answer to this question.

After all, only Haarlep can judge him (so the bar is already on the floor).

[inkformyblood]

wife-plot fireworks (SVSSS)

Cumplane, Shang Qinghua & Shen Yuan | Shen Qingqiu (vibes are there for both, readers choice). Canon universe.

It’s not like Airplane could be expected to remember everything he wrote about; he’s not Cucumber-bro who could simply flip through his rolodex of complaints for whatever plotline they stumble into. Writing isn’t an exact science, there’s too many scenes gutted for their edible flesh and the bones discarded onto his cluttered apartment floor for him to keep track of who, what, when, where. He’d been fucking starving, okay? Real singing-for-his-supper shit which is cute when he had been in his twenties, desperate when he hit thirty, and downright chronic when forty began to loom on the horizon. So all of the papapa scenes that got Cucumber-bro’s silken boxers in such a twist had been necessary after a point, the reasons thinner and thinner as he scraped his knife against his bread to make it stretch further. 

“Disgraceful,” Shen Qingqiu snaps, each syllable as crisp as the fan he wields with devastating accuracy at the back of Shang Qinghua’s head. He’s pulling his blows, a necessity given their current situation, and Shang Qinghua takes the next corner without slowing, planting his sword in the ground to give him the leverage needed. 

“Hey, bro! Not cool.” Shang Qinghua hefts Shen Qingqiu higher — fuck, there’s barely anything to him, inertia might be keeping him stable but it wasn’t doing anything to cushion the hips currently bruising Shang Qinghua’s shoulder, his collarbone — wobbles and keeps running. “Not my fault that you seem to be wife-plot catnip for every poor sucker you bat your eyelashes at.”

“I do not—” Another corner, another slide of Shen Qingqiu across Shang Qinghua’s shoulder, slight enough that if he keeps whining then Shang Qinghua is just going to tuck him under one arm to carry him. Out of the corner of his eye, Shen Qingqiu’s face is crimson, a flush covering his sharp features like a veil. “—bat my eyelashes!”

He does. Might be thinking it makes him look sophisticated or even mysterious, that lidded gaze from behind his fan, and it does. Sometimes. 

“You agreed to be a human sacrifice, Cucumber-bro.”

“Airplane-bro, it’s the wife-plot for 287, I’m sure of it.” 

Fuck, how many narrow alleyways did one small town need? In the distance, Shang Qinghua can still make out the mob condensing behind them, their shouts barely audible beneath the desperate pounding of his own heart. 

Shen Qingqiu continues, measured the same way he must have written his novels entirely in comment-format, rapid-fire and barely pausing for breath. “She was the daughter of a village chief and Binghe encountered her during a spring festival that was held every ten years, like everytime he turned up at some small village.”

“Cucumber-bro, it was what the readers wanted and festivals are fun and convenient.”

“Hack writer.”

“Who’s carrying your skinny wife-plot arse around.”

Shen Qingqiu scowls, palpable through the very air cooling several degrees. Shang Qinghua, his heart lodged in his throat, his lungs burning for air, reflexively turns to look for a portal, waits for a heavy hand on his shoulder. Shit, he meant to send a missive to his king over an hour ago. They round another corner, Shang Qinghua’s shoulder knocking into the building opposite, bruising but that’s a problem for later, and slide to a halt. 

A crowd stares back, dark eyes glittering beneath the flare of their torches, faces shadowed by the encroaching gloom.

Shen Qingqiu lowers himself to look beneath Shang Qinghua’s elbow, the ornament from his hair finally coming loose and landing with a gentle plink on the cobblestones. His hair falls freely with it, dark tresses brushing the ground.

“Give us back the maiden!” A voice shouts from the back, indignant, brash to match the flourish of a blade drawn.

“Time to run. Again!”

“Head for the outskirts,” Shen Qingqiu snaps, fumbling with the pouch at his waist as he drags himself back upright. It’s uncomfortable, a hand shoved between a press of bone against bone, a flare of energy that bursts behind Shang Qinghua’s eyes like a three-day-old headache. “If we can just set off the fireworks, then the festival will be over and they’ll stop chasing us.”

“Remind me how that’ll work? Your plan so far was to volunteer—” Shang Qinghua raises his voice to a near shout, slamming his words over Shen Qingqiu’s spluttered complaint. “—and then say ‘No time to explain. Just grab the fireworks and follow me.’ You got three steps away.”

“Without-A-Cure was your creation.”

“This entire place is my creation.” Shang Qinghua can’t let himself dwell too long on that fact because then he’d need to sit down somewhere dark and quiet and chew his knuckles until they bleed. The buildings are becoming sparser now, glimpses of the horizon visible in the spaces between them, but it doesn’t help the sinking sensation of eyes crawling over his skin, something small and fragile skittering out in the open while a predator circles overhead. 

Shouts echo behind him but he doesn’t slow, vaulting over a fence and sinking into the tangle of grass on the other side. He lands on his knees in a crouch, tipping himself sideways to let Shen Qingqiu down with a grunt of effort. He’s no longer moving so the panic begins to fizz in his belly, his eyes wide and staring out at the tiny pinpricks of light filtering between the buildings. “What now?”

“Wife 287 was scheduled to participate in the festival but Binghe’s cultivation prowess caused a reaction and the spirits were appeased early.”

Shang Qinghua chews his lower lip, pulling some of the grass free in front of him and twisting it around his fingers. Lights skim across his vision, the crowd still searching for them both, and he ties a knot into the grass, beginning to braid it. “So, fireworks?”

“Fireworks. If you could?” 

It’s kind of nice to just lie down and watch the fireworks rain overhead. Shen Qingqiu’s fingers twist into Shang Qinghua’s, squeezing tight before they relax.

[yesihaveaobsession]

The Date and the Demons Help

Alastor x female reader

Summary: Alastor helps you get ready for your date

You had a date tonight,you have been waiting for weeks for it. The guy seemed really sweet, only the issue was you didn't know what to wear so Alastor lounged on your bed, his usual stoic demeanor melted away as he swung his legs eagerly, like a schoolgirl. His sharp grin widened as he watched you try on outfits for a date, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Ah, decisions, decisions," he purred,as you held up a black dress in one hand and a red dress in the other. His gaze flickered between the two, clearly enjoying the dilemma before him.

"I just don't know which one I wanna pick." You said with a sigh. "I like the black one because I like the lacey sleeves but I like the red one because it would show my curves."

You now stood before the mirror, contemplating your reflection. With a furrowed brow and a bit lip, you assessed each dress, considering how they felt and how they'd be perceived on your night out.

Alastor's chuckle filled the room as he observed, thoroughly entertained by the scene unfolding before him. His crimson eyes twinkled with mischief, eager to see which choice you would make.

"Ah, my dear, I must say, the red one suits you quite splendidly," Alastor remarked with a sly grin, his voice smooth as velvet. "It accentuates your curves in all the right places."

You turned to look at him.. "Ha,ha, very funny." You then paused, considering Alastor's input. A faint blush tinted your cheeks as you glanced between the dresses, contemplating his observation. With a nod, you reached for the red dress.

Alastor's grin widened as he reclined back on the bed, thoroughly pleased with the outcome. "A wise decision, my dear." He watches your every move as you sat down at your vanity.

"What hairstyle do you think I should go for? And what color heels would match my outfit?" Alastor still kicking his feet with a closed lip smile he replied. Alastor tapped his chin thoughtfully, considering your options. "For the hairstyle, darling, I suggest a classic updo. Elegant yet charming, it'll surely leave a lasting impression," he advised with a twirl of his cane. "And as for the heels, a sleek pair of black stilettos would complement your ensemble perfectly. They exude sophistication and a hint of mystery, just like you."

Grateful for his guidance, you nodded, feeling more confident about your upcoming date. "Thank you, Alastor. You're quite the stylist," you remarked, unable to contain a smile at his endearing schoolgirl like antics.

With a gleeful chuckle, Alastor rose to his feet, his usual aura returning. "It was my pleasure, my dear. Now, go forth and dazzle your suitor. And if they dare to cross you, well, you know who to call," he quipped, a playful glint in his eyes as he winked.

You laughed, bidding him farewell as you headed off to prepare for your evening, grateful for Alastor's unexpected assistance.

[hawthorne-swift-enthusiasttt]

Unit 919 as obscure google fonts!!!

Hi please don't ask me what this is i don't even know lmao

Anah:

Um yeah so I think both of these fonts just go along with her vibe tbh. Sweet, timid, and a bit prim!

Mahir:

Any fantasy-looking fonts match with him honestly. I found a TON that reminded me of him but I think these two sum him up pretty well.

Cadence:

I kind of like the idea of a handwriting-esque font with her. It's just the vibes I guess. But the first one sort of looks mesmerizing in itself (imo) so it works with her.

Hawthorne:

Hawthorne is basically all the bold fonts lmao. I really think these picks are self-explanatory. Just look at him. He screams BIG BOLD FONT lol.

Morrigan:

I feel like I could have put more effort into hers and relate it to Wunder or something but I like these ones enough so 🤷‍♀ She gives a hand-written vibe about her as well.

Arch:

Sorry for the grainy-ass quality and tiny image but I feel like Arch has a sophisticated yet humble and chill vibe about him (that makes zero sense I'm aware but I was struggling on him ok)

Lam:

I tried to find a regal-looking font for her. Idk if this does her justice but its sort of intricate and mysterious so I think it matches.

Thaddea:

So similarly to Hawthorne, she screams bold in-your-face font. Also can I just take this moment to talk about Thaddea like she's so badass omg I love her <33

Francis:

Ummm I'm really not confident about this one but it's giving fancy menu and Francis is all about food right???? Idk I could do better but I couldn't find anything so whatever :')

BONUS STUFF:

Okay so I found some bonus fonts that I really liked and gave such nevermoor energy so I'm including them.

Nevermoor Christmas:

This one is sooooo battle of christmas eve. Especially the Yule Queen. I kid you not when I first read these books the first thing that came to mind when reading about the Yule Queen was this font. It might be a problem that I have a vast knowledge of random fonts that I relate to my interests but whatever ok I'm only human

Jack:

These have Jack written all over them. Any variation of Cinzel works for him, and Cormorant is similar as well. I think these are quite sophisticated but also stand out. They have a specific flair about them that I just associate with Jack. Super trash explanation I know but at the end of the day all of these literally just come down to vibes.

Hotel Deucalion:

Anyone else think this one is so Hotel Deucalion-ish??? Or at least Jupiter-ish. Like it's fancy but welcoming.

Anyway dudes that's the end of the post hope you liked it. It's funny cause I always say I'm gonna do something productive with Nevermoor content like writing a fic or something but most of the time I just end up with shit like this. Like girl. You are supposed to be making stuff like fanart and fanfic and headcanons why are you doing a Nevermoor post about google FONTS???? lmao

[solomonomenon]

skz ideal type

⚠️ for entertainment purposes only *based on tarot

𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣

personality:

someone who’s really in touch with their emotions, kind of dreamy and open-hearted, but also super intuitive and deep. they’d be someone who just gets him without needing to explain everything. there’s also playful, optimistic vibe about them, always seeing the beauty in things and bringing a creative energy to life. so, overall, it’s like someone who’s both a big dreamer and quietly wise, with a warm, emotional depth that feels really comforting.

appearance:

someone with sharp, confident look, with striking features—maybe bold eyes, a clean hairstyle, or a strong jawline. they’d look put-together but not in a flashy way, more like they just naturally stand out. they’d have a more relaxed, effortless style, like casual clothes that still look really good, maybe in earthy or neutral colors with a touch of unpredictability like they might take risks with their look, maybe with a cool tattoo, unique accessories, or some bold fashion choices.

𝙡𝙚𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬

personality:

he'd want someone who’s open to change and isn’t afraid to go with the flow. they’d also need to be tough in their own way, able to handle challenges and stand their ground when things get rough. there’s probably a vulnerability to them too, like they’re learning to become stronger and more independent over time, but they’re still kind and gentle at their core.

appearance:

someone with intense, magnetic vibe, something about them just draws people in, like they’ve got an edgy, mysterious energy. maybe they’ve got a sultry, confident look with bold features, like sharp eyes. at the same time, they’d have this fiery, energetic look that gives off vibrant, passionate energy. there’s also a youthful, fresh quality to them, like they’re still figuring things out and have a bit of an innocent, curious side. maybe a clean, neat style like button-up shirts, neat hair, with simple accessories.

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙗𝙞𝙣

personality:

his ideal type is someone who's confident and resourceful, someone who knows what they want and has the skills to make it happen, yet they wouldn't be quick to rush into things, instead weighing options thoughtfully. they’d definitely have a strong sense of justice and be the kind of person who stands up for what’s right and helps others out whenever they can

appearance:

they would probably have a bit of a humble, grounded look. they wouldn’t be super flashy, maybe more practical and laid-back in their style, but also not afraid to be a little different. he'd prefer someone with positive energy that just shines through, someone who has warm and inviting vibe, like their smile can light up an entire room.

𝙝𝙮𝙪𝙣𝙟𝙞𝙣

personality:

someone who’s super social and loves to connect with others, always up for a good time and making fun memories with friends. they’d also be really emotionally open and warm, not afraid to show affection or share how they feel. at the same time, they’d have a strong sense of right and wrong, someone who values fairness, knows when to stand their ground, and makes decisions based on what’s fair and just.

appearance:

mysterious, reserved look maybe they have like quiet intensity, their eyes or expression hold a lot of depth, making you want to know more. they’d also have this balanced, confident vibe, like they’re someone who carries themselves with a sense of self-assurance and dignity, like how someone might walk into a room and immediately command attention without even trying. think of someone with a sharp, elegant style, like a tailored suit or simple but sophisticated clothing that gives off a calm, powerful energy. and they’d have ethereal, almost otherworldly beauty like they look naturally stunning without much effort, maybe with soft, glowing skin and a graceful presence, almost like someone who could easily fit into a fairytale.

𝙝𝙖𝙣

personality:

someone who’s pretty well-rounded and at peace with themselves, someone who knows who they are and is confident in that. they’d also be super generous and caring, always looking to help others out and keep things balanced in their relationships. they’d have nurturing side, like they naturally want to take care of people and make sure everyone around them is okay.

appearance:

calm, introspective vibe like someone who doesn’t need to stand out but still has this quiet confidence about them. maybe they have a more relaxed, effortless style, something like simple but clean clothes, like a cozy sweater or a neat button-up, and a natural look that doesn’t try too hard. and he'd prefer someone who pays attention to the little details, maybe with a well-kept, put-together appearance that reflects how dedicated they are in everything they do. they’d also have this wise, comforting aura, like they’re someone you’d turn to for advice or just feel safe being around.

𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙭

personality:

someone who’s super confident and full of energy, they could light up the room with their passion and creativity, always ready to take charge. but they’d also have this quiet strength about them, like they’re really calm and patient even in tough situations, and they can handle anything that comes their way with grace. they’d also have a fierce, protective side, someone who always has your back, especially when it comes to the people they care about.

appearance:

they would probably have tough, resilient look, someone who’s been through challenges but still stands strong. they might have a more serious or guarded expression, like there’s a lot beneath the surface, but they still carry themselves with this quiet confidence. they’d have a bit of a mysterious edge, they don’t reveal everything about themselves right away, and their style would probably be a little unconventional, maybe wearing something that gives off that I know what I’m doing vibe, a cool jacket or unique accessories that make them stand out without trying too hard.

𝙨𝙚𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙢𝙞𝙣

personality:

someone who’s not afraid of shaking things up or starting fresh when needed. they’d also be super dreamy and imaginative, always thinking about the future and exploring different possibilities. they might not always know exactly what they want, but they’re excited by all the options ahead of them. they’d also have nurturing, caring side, someone who’s always there to look out for others and offer love and support.

appearance:

strong and confident. they’d also have a look that’s full of hope and adventure, maybe with a spark in their eyes like they’re excited about the future and whatever comes next. think of someone who dresses with purpose, maybe in sleek, bold clothes. they’d have humble and hardworking look, like they put effort into everything they do, even if no one notices. they could wear something simple yet practical, like comfy sneakers or a jacket.

𝙟𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙣

personality:

confident and knows how to stand up for themselves, not afraid to fight for what they believe in. they’d also be grounded in their values and have a strong sense of purpose, someone who knows where they’re going in life and doesn’t get easily swayed by others. they’d also have this curious, analytical side, always asking questions, analyze things deeply, and always be a few steps ahead.

appearance:

someone with active and energetic look who always seems on the move, with a spark in their eyes like they’re ready for anything. they’d have a practical, clean style like wearing something simple but stylish, maybe a well-fitted jacket and sneakers. and they’d be in good shape, showing off a strong, fit build. think of someone who dresses comfortably but still looks sharp, like they could easily transition from a workout to a night out.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

[blue-jisungs]

another idea i had and was gonna write i swear i have so many i abandoned but i will give them to u now LMAO but ricky!!! specifically this ricky with the mask!!!

ofc masquerade ball and im just thinking abt his deep sophisticated voice like whispering in ur ear skdjksdk oh my god

perfume scented letters

# author's note ... zanzan i fear u ate with that req ?! hes soooo royalty coded i couldnt wait to finish it up hehe i hope u like it<3

# warnings ... yn is really coquette pink girly lmfao i just felt like it ?! xiaoting cameo bc yk, haha,,, ricky n her are under wakeone..... both r chinese............ wow... wow genius ?!

# word count ... 1465

a dreamy sigh left your lips as you stared off into the distance. the panoramic view from your window displayed the beautiful royal gardens, basking in the summer sun. your favorite place was the marble fountain, with a woman statue adorning its top. on days such as these you normally sit there and read books; however, today you need to get ready for the ball.

the sweet smell of fresh flowers and strawberry cookies filled your room with the entrance of your maid, xiaoting. 

“is everything alright, my lady?” she asked softly, resting down the plate on the countertop of your golden framed vanity. you quickly moved some letters that were resting there, quickly putting them onto one of the drawers.

“naturally. de facto, i feel rather fabulous. how could i not?” you sent the girl a playful smile and reached for the cup of rose tea that she had prepared. 

you allowed your mind to drift away as xiaoting called other maids and the started preparing your dress for tonight. 

this night marked the 30th anniversary of your parents’ wedding and they decided to organize a masquerade ball since they met at one. you were excited, the thrill of mystery buzzed through your veins. 

you did hope, however, that one particular man was going to be here too. your correspondent… well, fiancé. your heart longed for him more than words could express. quanrui was a prince from another country, who visited your lands three years ago. even though it wasn’t his offer to marry you – rather, it was both of your parents’ incentives – you just established an immediate rapport. alas, you only had a week to share precious moments and make memories that you’d treasure forever before quanrui’s journey back home. ever since you haven’t seen him… nevertheless, he started writing letters to you. and you were writing back. 

quanrui’s letters were always of the highest quality. the texture of the cotton paper he used was always feeling luxurious under your fingertips and took his black and gold ink well. additionally, his handwriting itself was a piece of art. his cursive looked majestic, as if taken out straight out of history books. sometimes he used gold ink to emphasize certain words or, which was a more frequent occurrence, to sign the letter. however, a trait of his letters that you cherished the most was probably the way they smelled. quanrui started spraying them with his fragrance (and you started doing that as well, decorating the end of an letter with a kiss. quanrui would often trace the shape of your lipstick with his fingers but would never admit that) so you could feel a small ounce of his presence. soon enough the drawer where you kept the letters would start to smell like him too. 

there was a sealed deal between your families that once quanrui’s prince duties allow him to take a rest and travel back to your land, the marriage could take place. however, as for what your beloved explained to you, there was no upcoming moment of peace. 

you understood that. but there was a spilling feeling of bitterness that wouldn’t stop filling your lovesick heart. 

you bowed gently to your parents and handed them a gift wrapped in the finest silk in the shade of a blooming rose. your mother accepted it and placed a tender kiss on your cheek. 

“thank you, dear. nevertheless, you’re the best gift life could give us. now go have fun, dove” she smiled politely and your father nodded. 

“will do, mother” you replied and turned around to enter the ballroom. 

you fixed your mask – white with hand painted small pink roses. it was framed with gold on the edges and had a small, also pink, feather. you asked the mask maker to add a golden string so it wouldn’t require your hands holding it all the time. 

it matched with your dress. obviously it had tons of layers, a corset, and puffy sleeves but it wasn’t too restraining. it’s color was similar to the peonies in the royal garden – adorned with bows and details in white and lighter shades of pink. it all composed beautifully, especially with a golden necklace resting between your collarbones. quanrui sent you the piece of jewelry once, attached to a letter. you’ve worn it ever since. it was shaped like a heart and had his initials engraved. even though you never told him that, this gift pretty much reflected your real heart. you kept him in it all the time. 

you touched it, fingers brushing against the cold metal in a reassuring motion. with a small sigh escaping your lips, you entered the room. 

the ballroom was huge and beautifully decorated, the glow of chandeliers lit up the place. gold and marble ornaments were placed around the room in a cohesive manner. various foods displayed on porcelain plates were more tempting than devil by a window, smells and colors catching attention. the music was stunning, enchanting one’s legs to keep dancing. 

however, it all seemed bland and mediocre without quanrui by your side. you would trade this room and all the goods in a heartbeat if that meant seeing your lover.

you were asked to dance by someone, probably one of the governors. you tried to keep a conversation with him but couldn’t help your mind from wandering. the governor was skilled in dancing and respectful - he held your hand gently. 

the night was passing painfully slowly, like melting ice. song after song, dance after face, chat after chat. you were absent minded, allowing people to lead you in the swirl of dances. 

“may i have this one?” 

you just nodded, in your head already planning what to tell quanrui in your letter. you were going to write it as soon as you came back to your chamber. 

the young man who asked you grabbed your hand and bent his knee to place a kiss atop of it. the gesture was sweet (alas, it would be sweeter if quanrui executed it). 

then, he stood up. he was quite tall, his blonde hair were pushed back stylishly. a strand or two fell on his forehead. the mask he was wearing was lacy. an unusual choice; nonetheless, it was pretty. black and thin, you wondered if a gust of wind would be able to blow it away. you could see the outline of his eyes but not them fully. 

he was also dressed in a well fitted, black suit with golden details, such as earrings. 

the man leaned closer, lips next to your ear. 

to be frank, you smelled it first. 

the peculiar scent. 

the scent that quanrui’s letters carry. the fragrance that emerges from the drawer you keep his letters in. the aroma that you can’t get out of your mind. 

his lips ghost over your ear. if you weren’t somehow sure before, you are now. 

“you look breathtaking, darling” 

your arms wrap around his neck and instantly pull him into a hug, too shy to kiss him. quanrui’s hands gently hold your waist closer and you breathe in his perfume, melt in his hold. 

“is this a dream? please don’t wake me up” you mumbled, face pressed in his neck. a low chuckle vibrated through his throat as he caressed your waist. 

“i’m standing right here, tangible” quanrui said and smiled. his heart was pounding against this ribcage at an unprecedented rate “shall we dance?” 

you nodded enthusiastically and leaned away, suddenly everything surrounding you gaining more color. his tender hands remained on your waist and you put yours on his shoulders. despite not seeing his eyes, you did feel his gaze on you. 

his pretty lips were shaped in a whipped smile as he rocked you two to the rhythm. 

“why… why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, not able to look away from him. 

“i realized the letter wouldn’t arrive in time so i decided to surprise you. my heart couldn’t wait longer, i just had to see you” quanrui whispered and “y/n, your letters kept me sane everyday”

“yours as well, i… i stored them” you admitted shyly, biting down on your bottom lip gently “you… you do realize what your arrival means?”

he grinned, nodding his head. 

“i am fully aware” quanrui hummed and leaned closer, leaning his forehead against yours. a proud smile was dancing on his lips ��we can get married”

up close you could see the outline of his eyes, even his long lashes. 

“can i ask you for one favor?” you asked, hands sliding to the back of his neck.

“everything you wish for” quanrui mumbled.

“kiss me, please” a whisper, barely audible, left your lips. alas, he heard you. 

and with a tender, honey-alike kiss he sealed his promise.

masterlist <3

taglist. @slytherinshua ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @haecien ,, @stryroses

[ladadiida]

a little sneak peak of my (angsty) aventurine fic ♡

a large bouquet of freshly picked flowers tied with a single piece of red ribbon sat on your right hip, cradled gently with both of your arms so as to not crush them.

you knew, after all, that the petals of a flower were delicate, fragile enough to fall apart with just a fleeting touch of a fingertip. you moved the bouquet closer to your chest to protect them, even though you were dreadfully aware that in a few days, they would rot and die inside an expensive ceramic vase with hardly enough water to feed themselves.

any onlooker would speculate that a yearning gentleman gave you the flowers in hopes for you to accept his love with the way you held them, like they were yours to keep and yours to treasure; and as your reflection in the mirror stared back at you with tender eyes, you began to feel that it seemed to agree with the thought. the vibrant colors of the bouquet contrasted the plain, washed out gray color of your uniform, but you allowed yourself to pretend that the flowers were for you and someone actually chose them for you with you in their mind.

slightly hesitant at first, you leaned in and moved your face closer to the flowers like a sophisticated maiden who just received a bouquet from a suitor, inhaling their sweet and earthy scent that reminded you of home. it was the same scent you would wake up to every early morning as you prepare to open your flower shop, placing them in their respective vases and pots while you water their sprouting leaves and budding petals, watching them bloom under your love and care.

you closed your eyes, imagining yourself inside your flower shop again. you would drink a cup of warm tea sprinkled with dried jasmine and lavender and arrange flowers together to create bouquets that would swoon the entire cosmos; and then a familiar pair of arms would wrap themselves around your waist, the mystery person placing his chin on top of your shoulder. you will try not to giggle when you feel the golden strands of his hair tickle your neck, and his purple eyes will sparkle with amusement as he began to open his mouth to whisper something in your ear—

"do you think she'll like it?"

your fantasy world crumbled down like crushed petals under your feet the moment you heard his voice. you forced the frivolous flutter of your heart to stop, putting on a neutral expression when you turned around to face him. he was already looking at the bouquet resting on your arms with a satisfied grin, taking off his tinted glasses to get a better look, reminding you yet again that the flowers he buys will never belong to you.

and it was obvious too. you tried to push down your disappointment as you scanned over the little gift you prepared. the bouquet consisted of red camellias (desire) that have the same shade as the streaks of a certain someone's pure white hair, and periwinkles (fondness) to match the color of her eyes. the flowers were screaming somebody else's name, but you dare not say it out loud.

without waiting for your answer, he took the bouquet from you, his gloved hands brushing against your bare ones, and you didn't fail to notice how the little action made your heart jump pathetically. observing the flowers, he hummed in contentment, "ah, of course she will. you are the most talented florist in the galaxy. i mean, look at this."

you blinked slowly, not letting the compliment get to you. you worked with him long enough to know that they were only a part of his facade. "i'm not sure about that. i was planning to get red roses but they were out of stock. i hope red camellias will make up for it."

he suddenly poked at your forehead with a finger, and this time, you failed to hide your surprise at his actions. the tips of your ears reddened, the shade becoming deeper the longer he allowed himself to touch you. he then met your wide eyed gaze with his empty and soulless ones, much different to the version of himself in your daydreams.

"don't fret. i can see you're overthinking. if my...tricks wouldn't work on topaz, i'm sure the flowers will. they always do. women tend to soften after a sweet and heartwarming gesture." he said, chuckling lowly and voice tinted with the schemes he's about to unleash.

the blonde pulled away from you and began to walk away, his touch lingering on the skin of your forehead. you didn't know what prompted you to do so, but you suddenly blurted out his name as his footsteps were beginning to sound far and far away from you like it always does,

"sir aventurine."

aventurine stopped in his tracks, his back continuing to face you. you itched to go after him, to take his hand and cage him in your arms and tell him no, that woman will never see you as i do, and she would never appreciate the flowers, don't go, don't go, don't leave me—

you forced a soft smile even if he couldn't see you at all, and said breathlessly, miserably, and hopelessly, "good luck on negotiating with miss topaz."

[sad-soup-and-chaos]

My monthly drabble.

My current favourite Sukuna Mafia boss AU. but with a tragic swing.

18+

Mention of violence, sexual assault, death, suicide. Long. Pain no comfort. Not proof-read.

IF ONLY...

The holiday season was a dreaded time of the year for Sukuna. The business went well, of course, with so many clients seeking easy pleasure and their high. But it also meant that people were unnecessarily cheerful and self-centered. As always he was suddenly short on men and had to deal with some of the clients himself.

The worst, the longest week of the year. He felt so genuinely exhausted. In such a need of rest and relief.. but the thought of any usual hooker he used to go to made his stomach churn with disgust. He was done with cheap people for the week.

He stood in front of his HQ smoking like some hobo, not the most dangerous boss of the most infamous yakuza family. "What a dreadful weather" he thought watching the grey sky, dump cold seeping into his bones, making him shiver.

He needed to think of something. Something less distasteful.. more sophisticated. To feed his empty soul and ease his irritation. His eyes fell on an early XX century poster of a geisha advertising some beer in an antique shop across the street.

A geisha. Now that didn't sound half as bad as it usually would. They were classy, beautiful, artistic. They had strict etiquette and didn't mingle with their clients.

Perfect.

His hand reached for his phone and he googled locations offering geisha services. He groaned. Some looked like cheap imitations, he would probably end up drugged with an old ugly hooker... some looked too flashy for his taste.

And then.. he came across a site of a teahouse in the outskirts of the city. The site was minimalistic. A few photographs of the place looking almost ancient. No pictures of the girls. No flashy advertisements of their skills.. Just the address. But something about it felt strangely authentic and mysterious. Tsk.. too intriguing to pass by.

He checked the route and a few moments later he was driving his overpriced sports car towards the location. In less than half an hour he parked outside the teahouse.

A sign above the old heavy door Tamatori hime

The jewel-taking princess, the famous lady Tamatori who stole a precious pearl from a sea dragon. What a name.

He pushed against the heavy wooden doors and came inside the comforting warmth welcoming him in. He was met with an unexpected sight. Wooden walls with calligraphy and ink and an old elegant woman in a kimono sitting behind a low table. "Welcome, traveller" her voice was calm and almost soothing.

"A tea for one.." he muttered, his voice lacking his usual sharpness "and a companion for the evening"

The old woman hummed. "You won't find what you seek in any rooms here." she said calmly. "But you might.. if you enter the Pearl garden behind the house."

"That is.. if our jewel will accept" she added, her voice slightly thoughtful. Then she lowered her eyes, took a brush, placed a piece of handmade paper on the table and put the brush into the ink on her table.

Sukuna felt confused and slightly irritated. He had the money to buy the whole house, the garden, all the staff with their families together. "And what is the difference between the ones in the house and garden?"

"The women in the house.. will not satiate your hunger and fill your emptiness" the old woman said without lifting her eyes at him. The brush masterfully leaving ink on the paper.

Her words. Her audacity. The way she didn't even look at him yet dared to say those words.. It made him all even more irritated. But the old woman drew with such elegance he didn't have the heart to burst out yet.

"And how do you know, that the one in the garden will satisfy me?" he scoffed

"I don't." she said making him scowl even more "I am here simply to welcome the travellers who decide to enter our establishment. And help them choose one of the rooms" she said the black ink slowly forming a kanji for pearl. "And you, traveller, should go to the Pearl garden" she said softly.

"You make an empty assumption, woman" he scoffed hardly keeping his temper in check. "What happens if i don't follow your advice?" he almost hissed.

And then to his genuine surprise he heard a giggle from behind the wall on his left. Such a pleasant sound, so light.. but so strangely mocking. Was it a coincidence? His eyes darted to the left only to see an ink drawing of a small traditional teahouse over a pond with a garden beside it.

"It is not advice. It is a mere suggestion. It is your choice whether to follow it" the old woman said and took out a small wooden stamp.

"I know a mockery when i hear it. But I doubt you will tell me who it is.." he said coldly referring to that melodic giggle "Then let me hear another suggestion of yours. WHY.. would i enjoy the company of your jewel?"

"Shinju" the old woman said. Her voice still calm and unaffected by the spite in his voice. Was she referring to the name of the person behind the wooden wall.. Shinju.. a pearl. Or was she simply referring to the legend of lady Tamatori after which the house was named?

"Because, she is the crown jewel of this place. And if she accepts you.. and you don't enjoy it.. It only means you are too dead inside already. And no one else would be able to change that" the old woman said leaving him completely speechless. She then proceeded to put the stamp into red ink and pressed it onto the paper before her.

He was so shocked, so utterly confused. How dared she? How dared they?! Didn't they want his money? Weren't they afraid.. that the only words that escaped his lips sounded weak and defensive "I am not dead inside" he muttered despite himself.

The same giggle rang through the wooden wall mocking him. Mocking his words. Mocking his reaction.

"Then why are you here on this dreadful night if not to warm up your soul?" the old woman asked calmly. She took the handmade paper with the calligraphy in her hands and gently blew over the ink.

He blinked. He felt so confused, so utterly taken aback by all that was happening that he found himself muttering "What is that supposed to mean?" his eyes shifting between the old woman in front of him and the cursed wooden wall. "I am here for the company of a beautiful woman. Nothing more and nothing less. Stop making assumptions!"

The same cheerful giggle "It is not a brothel, kakka.. it is a teahouse" the cheerful voice so sweet so sultry so.. mysterious and intriguing.. It made his heart flutter despite the utter irritation he was feeling.

"We have no oiran. We have tea. The brothel is right behind you, across the street" the voice from behind the wall added.

This voice. This sweetness. Its melody. The slightly mocking tone. So infuriating yet so intriguing. He was Ryomen Sukuna, the yakuza boss notorious for his bad temper and his cruelty. Yet despite himself.. "I do not need a cheap woman. I need a woman worthy of my time!" he squeezed out

"But are you worthy of hers?" the voice asked and giggled.

He stood dumbfounded. His hands trembling with powerless rage. He closed his eyes. No need to burst in front of some useless women.

And just when his eyes closed.. he heard a sound so familiar, yet distant. A thud of a folding fan being closed. Then a series of shonji doors opened somewhere to the right. And the heavy entrance wooden door opened behind him bringing in a whirlwind of sharp cold and snowflakes.

His eyes opened instantly, a cold unpleasant shiver running down his body.

The old woman before him straightened herself and held the paper with the calligraphy of a single word for him. Shinju. Pearl. He was given a choice. He was pushed into choosing between the unknown mystery of the Pearl garden behind the teahouse.. and the exit.

Sukuna had a deep scowl on his face. But he didn't hesitate. He grabbed the cursed piece of paper and marched through the open shoji door to the right of him. He was so determined he didn't even hear the soft steps of the old woman behind him who went to close the wooden doors.

Sukuna simply walked along the endless corridor, the maze of shoji doors opening and closing behind him. The alluring mocking giggle still ringing in his head pushing him further, taunting him, playing with his exhausted mind. He didn't even notice that the shoji doors behind him kept closing, cutting him off from the exit.

The maze suddenly ended in a courtyard with a karesansui garden looking haunting in the winter cold. His eyes darted around not seeing anything of importance. He turned around to go back to finally ask questions, to demand.. But then the last shoji door closed before his nose leaving him alone in the empty garden. He groaned and kicked the shoji.. and looked around again. And then to his surprise he saw a round Chinese moon gate to another part of the garden with nothing but the darkness beneath it.

Without much choice he walked to the gate and stepped through. The second he did.. the stone toro lanterns suddenly lit all over the place suddenly revealing a neat stone path and the garden it led through. His legs moved on their own, his eyes hungrily drinking in the peaceful landscape until they stopped on a small teahouse over a pond. The same one from the ink drawing he had seen on the wall of the house making him suddenly pause his confident stride.

And there.. on the side of the lake stood a stone pagoda-like pavilion with a stone table and a woman sitting on one of the stone stools. She was wearing traditional attire with a luscious fur collar. A small stone stove beside her with a pot of boiling water.

He was so shocked by the sight staring at it, completely srill. A stray snowflake hit his cheek reminding him of the horrible weather outside. Waking him up from his daze.

He started walking to the pavilion his eyes never leaving the woman. The closer he came.. the less confident his stride became, until it came to a halt yet again. He stood a few steps away struck by her beauty. She looked so delicate and pure. Was he really worthy of her time? He started to doubt it.

"Good evening, traveller" her voice greeted him like a gentle melody caressing his soul. "Would you entertain me with a game of Go?" she asked so softly. Her calm eyes looked at him. And for once, or rather for the second time this very evening he felt no judgement coming from them.. but also no fear.

Sukuna would have spoken if he could find his voice. But he was almost afraid to hear how it would sound. So he silently nodded and sat on a stone stool opposite to her. He realised, this game of Go should be the test by which the woman would decide if she accepted him as her client. But at this moment he just knew that for the first time in his life he would fail, he would lose pathetically, too captivated by her beauty, by her aura.. by everything she was.

"Please, have some tea, traveller. The weather is rather unpleasant tonight" she offered and put a simple clay cup before him, then poured a herbal tea that was simmering on the stone stove beside her. His eyes darted to her gloved hands despite his better judgement.

They sat in silence for a few moments. All of his confidence, his arrogance gone for good. He blinked trying to move.. to speak.. to do something. Yet all he could muster was a nod. His hand reached for the cup and he made a sip. The herbal tea slightly bitter, yet refreshing and strangely fitting for the cold night. He put the cup down and silently placed a marble on the stone board between them.

Her delicate hand reached for a marble of her own.. but naturally it slipped from her glothed hand. She softly clicked her tongue and took the glove off, then placed her marble as well. His eyes darted to her hand. It was too delicate for such cold weather. What a strange thought.

They kept playing for some time in complete silence. "Can you tell me your name?" at least her name.. His voice came out strangely gruff and almost shaky.

"You already know it" she answered softly.

"What?" he muttered his eyes darting away trying to understand what she meant. And then he remembered the calligraphy, the name uttered by the old woman.

Shinju. The pearl stolen by lady Tamatori, the jewel kept in the secret garden behind the teahouse. "You are Shinju" his eyes lifted to her face.

She softly nodded placing another marble on the table. Her hand. It looked so pale now. She must be cold in this horrible weather.

He felt an urge to take this delicate cold hand and warm it in his own big warm hands. An urge to touch her and make sure she was warm. But she was a geisha. Someone he shouldn't touch. He gritted his teeth, his eyebrows coming together. Instead he put a marble of his own. Its click too loud in the silence of the winter garden.

To touch the hands, to warm them. But was he even worthy of her time? He was losing pathetically, and by an embarrassingly big margin. But even not this.. Was he, the Ryomen Sukuna, the coldhearted criminal whose hands were covered in blood and violence, was he even worthy to sit in the presence of this pure beauty? He had to remind himself for the mptieth time that she was a geisha, he shouldn't be even considering such acts.

Her hand put another marble on the stone table. It was so pale, it looked almost translucent. Before he could stop himself his hand grabbed hers almost rudely. Her eyes lifted in small surprise. Her hand was so cold, almost as if he was touching a corpse. He blinked.

And then he reacted. His coat was down in no time and wrapped over her. He scooped her in his arms and carried her quickly along the strong path and into the teahouse over the pond.

Her eyes were slightly wide and never leaving his face.. while he was looking straight forward. He knew the consequences of touching a geisha. He was ready to pay any fine. To pay thrice, ten times the price. To be forbidden from every teahouse around Japan.. But he wasn't ready to see her reaction.

He somehow slid the shoji door and stepped inside. He quickly slid it closed to cut off the cold air. And then he lowered to his knees not to spoil the clean tatami floors. He swallowed and lowered her gaze to her still not quite ready to see her face.

He maybe had thought that she would go mad, scream, scold him, or even slap him. But instead she giggled and opened her folding fan. "Welcome to my home, traveller". He sat there completely dumbfounded. Shouldn't he.. Shouldn't he be chasen away? Shouldn't he be forbidden from this place? His thoughts ran a thousand miles per hour.. yet his head felt completely empty with how utterly shocked he was. He finally realised that not the game of Go was her test.

But then.. she kneeled beside him and started to unlace his shoes. "You.." he tried to speak

"Mmm?" she hummed

"You don't need to do that" he finally squeezed out.

"I don't need to.. but I want to." she answered with a small smile. It wasn't mocking or condescending. It was a calm peaceful smile. She took off his shoe and then moved to the other one. He stared in complete dibelief. Staring silently at her like a complete idiot.

"You see.. there is a secret behind the Moon gates of the garden" she said "The girls inside the house are geishas. But I am not." That meant that she was not bound by the etiquette of the geisha. And she indeed did what she wanted.

She then placed her hand on his elbow as if to help him stand up. "You seem exhausted, traveller. And what is a better thing for an exhausted traveller than a warm bath?" she smiled. He swallowed heat rising to his cheeks. He was.. He was so many things. So opposite to her. And here she was holding his elbow in this manner.. He rose himself and nodded silently, now towering over her small form. "Please, follow me then" she bowed her head slightly

"Is there a name, you would like me to use, traveller?" she asked as she led him along the corridor.

"Sukuna" he squeezed out quietly not quite trusting his own voice.

"Sukuna." she repeated as if trying it on her tongue. His name sounding so so gentle all of a sudden. They entered the bathroom. Warm fragrant fog, a big wooden round soaking tub with a small fireplace below it. She turned to him "Would you like me to help you undress, Sukuna-sama?"

His heart went to his throat. He was unable to react for a whole minute and then slowly nodded.

She smiled softly. Not mocking. Not judging. A small genuine peaceful smile almost as if it was her pleasure to take care of him. She approached him and started unbuttoning his shirt. Her movements attentive almost too careful not to touch him in any way. Almost reverent. But most importantly.. unflinching in the face of his impressive height, his big muscular form, his scars and tattoos.

It was so strange. They all flinched. The escorts, his fake girlfriends, gold-diggers, even the expensive professional hookers would flinch eventually. But not her. She removed his shirt. Unbuckled his belt. His pants dropped onto the floor so now he was left only with his socks.. and his boxers on.

"May I?" she asked softly "Or would you prefer to do it yourself?"

To his dismay he answered before he could stop himself "You may" And gods, his face never felt so hot.

She bowed her head politely and lowered to remove his socks. Then went behind him to give him at least some sort of privacy. Her hands gently tugged on the hem of his boxers. Then she very carefully slid them down.

He forgot how to breathe turning a new unexpected shade of red. And quickly, maybe a way too quickly stepped into the wooden soaking tub, sat down, allowing the water to cover his body.

"Would you like some tea and snacks? Or maybe liquor, Sukuna-sama?" she asked

Sukuna-sama. "Both" he blurted out before his thoughts went astray at the sound of his name paired with this honorifics coming from her sweet mouth in that voice of hers. "Tea and sake"

She bowed her head politely and left the bathroom. She returned soon. Sat two cups for him and a small plate of snacks on a wooden tray and.. put it onto water allowing it to float towards him. "And do you like music, Sukuna-sama?"

"Music?"

"Yes. To be more precise, guqin music. I am not very good with shamisen. But I could play you the guqin if you would like that.. of course." she said

"Yeah.. I'd like to hear it"

"Thank you" she smiled.. Grateful for being able to play for him. He wanted to stop her. He didn't deserve it. Her gratefulness, her care, he wasn't worthy of her time and effort. But she was already gone from the bathroom.

A few moments later she settled on the floor, a black old instrument in front of her. Her long fingers lowered to the strings and a melody started flowing through the warm fog of the bathroom. A gentle whisper of the times and memories that were so familiar but had never happened. The melody wrapped around him, so melancholic making his cold heart ache with unknown yearning, with a longing he had never felt before.

After a long long time he had lost track of the melody softly died out leaving him strangely disappointed. "Would you like me to help you wash, Sukuna-sama?" her gentle voice asked

His eyes went wide open. How many times would this woman render him speechless? Before he could dwell into it he simply nodded.

She went behind him. And held his head gently so she could pour water over his hair without allowing it into his eyes. He tried not to move too much feeling strangely restless. She added the shampoo and started carefully washing his hair allowing him to get used to the feeling of her fingers between his locks. And then started massaging his scalp. His body froze and then slowly eased into the feeling. The feeling of being cared for. Maybe for the first time in his life.

She then washed the shampoo away and continued to wash his body. Every muscle. Every crook, every crevice. Constantly asking him if she could, if he felt fine. So considerate and respectful. He forgot his stress, forgot his troubles, forgot the world outside this small warm bathroom. The world outside of her hands.

It was late night or rather a very early morning when she finished. Washing him. Applying oils to his skin. Feeding him. Helping him in and out of clothes. She was helping him one last time. Buttoning his shirt up. He felt a strange tightness in his chest. Watching most non-chalantly her every move, as if trying to memorize it forever.

An hour later he was in his penthouse. And went straight to the bed falling asleep the second his head touched the pillow. He hadn't slept so well for gods know how many years. And woke up the next morning.

"Make me a reservation in Tamatori-hime establishment" he said gruffly to Uraume upon entering his office. He already missed her touch, missed her very presence.

"Tamatori hime? Wasn't it that brothel that burnt in a fire 10 years ago?" Toji mused. Sukuna's heart stopped beating at these words.

"Tsk, it was a teahouse with geisha!" Gojo rolled his eyes.

"Oi, same shit" Toji groaned

"No it isn't! You are such a brut. Sometimes I wonder how you even a Zenin" Gojo huffed

Sukuna was deaf to their bickering. The words repeating in his head *the house that burnt ten years ago*. But he had been in that house *the day before*

"Uraume, make me a reservation" Sukuna repeated.

"Boss? You are pale" Geto hummed. His men suddenly stopped bickering and turned to look at Sukuna. "I will check"

"Oh" Geto muttered "Now I remember, it has become an urban legend"

A what?

"Yes, I do remember too" Uraume hummed deep in thought. "They had this geisha who wouldn't accept every client"

Yes. It was her. Shinju. Their crown jewel. His.. pearl. But why did his men speak in Past tense? He had been with her a day before. Sukuna felt a strange uneasiness creep into his body.

"And one day she refused some big yakuza boss" as the words kept reaching him the air kept getting incredibly stuffy. "He called his men.."

"Or.. I now remember"

Sukuna couldn't even discern the voices of his men anymore, feeling his own pulse drumming loudly in his head. A plitting headache beginning to rise in his head. For the first time in his life Sukuna felt sick and dizzy. "They returned and raped every single woman. And the geisha in question slit her own throat. They then burnt the whole place down to cover the evidence"

"Yeah, but some say, the Teahouse appears every year on the date of its demise and allows customers to enter"

"boss? BOSS?!" He didn't hear them anymore. He was in a daze. Slowly sliding onto the floor. His eyes unseeing. A beautiful face in his head.

If only he..

If only he could..

If only he could.. do what?..

"Mmm? You look.. sad?.. Don't worry, Sukuna-sama. We will see each other very soon." the sweet voice rang in his head before the darkness slowly filled his vision and his consciousness slipped away.

[ducksido]

I'm kinda mad about the fact that you never played TWST but your characterization is always just SO ON POINT!!! IT'S SO ACCURATE!!! I'M MAD MAD!!! /pos /pos /pos(Love your writing)

(lol lol my hack is just reading copious of fanfic from wattpad, tumblr and quotev and i also read their wikis for my info SO im going to give you headcannons on Jade,Floyd and Azul)

🍄JADE🍄 Tea enthusiast-He has an extensive collection of exotic teas and enjoys brewing them with precision. If you show interest in tea, he’ll make it a habit to prepare a cup specifically tailored to your taste. Artistic Talent- He’s skilled at calligraphy and enjoys drawing detailed sketches of mushrooms in his journal. Occasionally, he’ll sketch people too, but only if they interest him.

ASMR YouTuber Vibes-His voice is so smooth that if he ever made an ASMR channel, it would be all creepy yet oddly relaxing stuff���like “mushroom foraging in a haunted forest” or “gentle ocean sounds… with distant screaming.”

Pinterest Core Aesthetic-His room is absurdly aesthetic. Dark academia meets “I definitely know how to get away with a crime.” His bookshelves? Immaculately arranged. His handwriting? Looks like it belongs in a spellbook.

Annoyingly Good at Tying Ties-No matter what, his tie is always perfect. If you ask him to help you, he’ll pretend to take his time, just so he can mess with you.

Loves Gossip-He acts all sophisticated, but if you tell him the latest drama, he’s listening intently. Might even casually manipulate the situation for entertainment.

Extreme Horror Game Player-The scarier, the better. He’s completely unfazed by jumpscares and will play with the lights off just to make everyone else uncomfortable.

🏀FLOYD🏀 Loves Drowning People (Playfully)-If you swim with him, be prepared—he WILL grab your leg and pull you under just to see your reaction. He thinks it’s hilarious.

Unironically Loves Kid Shows-This man will sit down and watch Bluey or Dora the Explorer without irony. If you judge him, he will not hesitate to wrestle you.

Petty Level 1000-If you slightly inconvenience him, he WILL remember. Didn’t share your snack with him? Oh no, now your pen is missing. Took his favourite seat? Now your shoelaces are mysteriously tied together.

Unpredictable Sleep Schedule-This guy either sleeps for 14 hours straight or doesn’t sleep at all. There is no in-between.

Probably Eats Whole Lemons-No reaction. Just full sends it like an apple. It freaks people out, and he loves that.

Horrible With Technology-Texts like a dad who just discovered emojis. Sends you messages like: “OK. 👏🔥🍔” and expects you to understand.

🐙AZUL🐙 Sleeps with a Weighted Blanket-It helps with the stress. He’ll never admit it, though.

Overthinks Online Messages-Takes forever to respond because he types out a full essay, deletes it, rewrites it, and then decides to wait five more hours before sending “ok.”

Hates Math But Is Good at It-He despises numbers but can calculate a 25% discount in under two seconds. Capitalism wins again.

Dramatic Coat Flips-Every time he turns, he does that dramatic anime coat swoosh. He does it so much that Jade and Floyd have bets on how many times per day he’ll do it.

Spotify Wrapped? Embarrassing.- His music taste is either the most refined classical pieces or nightcore remixes of 2000s emo songs. There is no in-between.

Owns an Embarrassing Childhood Nickname-No one knows what it is… except the twins. And they use it strategically.

[deluxewhump]

The Fundraiser

Cameron takes Zee to a fundraiser and someone from Zee’s home state recognizes him. Middle of frathouse arc timeline.

CW: bbu, previous identity

On an overcast Saturday morning in October, Cameron told Zee to shower and get dressed. He obeyed, and when he came down the stairs a grey windbreaker was thrust into his arms. He followed Cam out the door of their off-campus house and ducked into the passenger seat of his car. The door was stiff with the cold. He had to pull it firmly in order to get it to shut again. It slammed louder than he’d intended and he winced, waiting for a reprimand. None came.

“Cam?” he asked, trying to gauge his mood by his reaction to his name alone.

Cameron turned his eyes to his passenger as he turned the key and his 88’ Mustang growled to life. He was wearing khakis with a navy university hoodie and his green eyes were sleepy but not stoned. “What.”

A what with no inflection was a good response from Cameron. It was neutral, not fake-friendly but not tinged with warning, either.

“Where are we going?”

“Oh.” He actually laughed as he checked his dash’s gas gauge and rpm’s. The needle jumped and dipped as the Mustang idled in the unseasonably chilly air. “Nobody told you, huh?”

Zee shook his head. A few months ago, Cam would have let him ride in mystery or said something cryptic to make him nervous. Something like questions are above your rank, aren’t they? Or why spoil my fun, Z2?

But lately Cam had been more tolerable. Zee didn’t know if this was because he’d finally figured out what it is Cam wanted, which was not a perfect WRU product but a self aware, would-be equal demoted to the rank of subordinate— someone a little afraid of him but not too much, someone who would give him pushback if he went too far, but submit if he persisted. The other explanation was that it could be some strange change of heart after the time he’d come into Alex’s room and hung out with them. Maybe he just got sick of the performative bullying he’d spent so much of his hard earned money on for laughs, and was moving on. Either way, Zee was just glad moving on looked like more eye contact and conversation between them, and not being locked in a room somewhere forgotten, or abandoned to the brothers he considered even worse.

“Chapter fundraiser,” Cam answered mildly as he reversed out of the overcrowded driveway and onto the street. Zee could smell the car’s exhaust, and something like drifting smoke from a backyard brushfire in the dry air.

“A color run. You know, like a 5k but they dump a bunch of colored powder on everyone as they run? I’m manning a photo-slash-donation booth at the finish line today.” He pulled into a Dunkin Donuts half a mile from their street, on a divided highway dotted with office parks and medical buildings, ENT’s and orthopedic clinics with meticulously maintained black mulch landscaping.

The Dunkin had cream siding and tan trim, like it was trying to blend in with a more sophisticated neighborhood than its bright pink and orange colors warranted. Cam parked out front and absently told him “sit.” A few minutes later he returned with two cardboard gallon-boxes in each hand.

“Coffee and hot chocolate,” he said, setting one by Zee’s feet and the other in Zee’s lap. The warmth of its sides felt delicious on his hands. The Mustang’s heat was touch and go. “How anyone goes straight from a 5k to hot chocolate is beyond me, but I do what I’m told.”

Zee didn’t think it would be that hard, for people used to running in all sorts of weather. He’d seen Dominic mainline back to back tuna melts not ten minutes after a practice that had him as soaked in sweat as if he’d been swimming. Cameron was discerning and catlike in comparison— economical with his movements, apt to go a full day without eating and not even notice.

The thought of food made him hungry, but he was with Cam today, which meant he was on a Cam schedule. If Cam happened to eat, he might be offered food. More than likely though, Cam would have nicotine for lunch and not eat until much later when he was high. He put the thought from his mind.

The event site was already packed with people. Zee carried the gallon containers like dumbbells while Cameron got a backpack out of the trunk and led the way to the finish line. Their booth was already assembled. Anthony Shorey, always in shorts even if there was snow on the ground, was there with his hands crossed over his chest and tucked under his armpits for warmth, talking to a couple of girls wearing white hoodies and pastel leggings.

One of the girls saw Cameron and did what was meant to be a cutesy whine of his name, dragging out the N at the end. She saw Zee and her eyes slid to the boxes he carried. “Ohh, what’d you bring?” she asked, ignoring Zee entirely.

“Coffee and cocoa,” Cam answered, lifting his arm as she tucked herself under him into a hug. “Help yourself.”

There were two races scheduled, he learned. One started at eleven and the second at one. Sunlight was breaking weakly through the clouds as Cam set up their gear— a scannable QR code he taped to the table, a card reader, a cash tip jar with their Greek letters taped to the front of it. A cardboard box that had been left under the booth contained color run event lanyards and t shirts, which he set up tabletop in neat rows.

Zee set up the drinks on his end of the table, closest to the photo booth. He sat back in one of the plastic chairs and startled like an idiot when something touched his legs. It was a blanket, and Cam was holding the other end of it. A quick scan of his surroundings told him neither Tony Shorey nor the girls in running clothes from the next booth had noticed his flinch, but Cam had. He gave Zee a centimeter’s tilt of the head that Zee had begun to understand was an olive branch, a momentary reassurance of truce. Zee tucked the blanket around his legs and torso. “Thanks,” he said softly.

The first run brought waves of color-spattered participants past their booth, with many stopping in to take post-race photos together with their magenta, indigo and canary-yellow faces, hair, and clothes. Cam chatted and sold t-shirts. Zee spent most of his energy on just trying to look normal, glad he wasn’t covered in colored powder and made to run with his ankles tied closely together or something equally stupid. They would’ve if it was a frat backyard event. This was too big, too public. For all anyone knew he was a brother.

As the waves of completionists came through following the second race, he was more comfortable. David Shoaf brought new Dunkin containers and paper cups and replaced the nearly empty ones on the table. He took Cam’s place and Cam disappeared to a nearby booth where Zee kept glancing over his shoulder for him, uneasy being left without him in the way he used to be uneasy without Alex or Dominic. He was talking to a group of guys, two of which were covered in powder, and one girl, a ponytailed Amber Malloy who was not.

“Jamey?!”

Zee’s attention snapped back to the booth. In front of him was a twenty-one year old named Marshall Sains. His brain knew it immediately— provided the name with the face that was looking into his with a mixture of surprise and the specific delight that comes with encountering the deeply unlikely. Though Zee knew him immediately, it took a moment to place him. He rarely thought of anyone from before, except for the judge and his own mother, though he tried very hard to block those thoughts, banish them to his subconscious. There was discomfort in his life that he could control and discomfort that he couldn’t. Thoughts of before— of who he really was, belonged to the former category.

Marshall Sains belonged to before, he realized slowly. Not a brother, or a friend of theirs, or a guy someone knew who came around sometimes. Not a teammate of Dominic’s he recognized or one of Alex’s siblings. Marshall Sains was his friend in highschool. They had biology together, and B lunch. He drove a Toyota Camry, and his star athlete older brother had died in a car accident in 2010. People still stopped him and offered condolences when he was a junior in 2014, Zee had witnessed it more than once.

“N-no,” he muttered weakly. Absurdly. Adrenaline flooded his gut like a writhing pile of snakes. A group came out of the photo booth covered head to toe in garish colors like warpaint. Marshall Sains studied him, his smile freezing and dying on his familiar face, a few years older now but not much changed.

He was looking at him like he couldn’t believe it, like he was looking for something that might indicate he’d made a mistake— a cluster of freckles or the bridge of a nose that was not quite right. Zee knew he wouldn’t find it. He was right, of course, he was two feet away from his friend Jamey who’d disappeared from the face of the earth with nothing but rumors of where he’d gone and why.

He’d rather they all thought he was in prison. Or dead, really. Less humiliating that way.

In his peripheral vision he saw Cameron break away from the group he’d been talking to and come slowly back over to the booth, hands in the front pocket of his university hoodie, not inserting himself in the situation but hanging casually back as if to survey the runners as they completed their race. But Zee knew he was listening.

“Jamey. Oh my God. Dude. It’s Marshall Sains?” he laughed uncomfortably, like he was waiting for Zee to admit he was just messing with him and stand up to hug him and clap him on the back. “How the fuck are ya?”

“I’m sorry man,” Zee managed in his most offhanded, who-is-this-weirdo voice. “I guess I have a twin. But I don’t know a Jamey and I don’t know you.”

Marshall grew flustered then. The group that had come out of the photo booth were trying to pour themselves cups of coffee and he was in the way. Anthony Shorey was watching the exchange now with faintly raised eyebrows.

“I’m sorry,” Marshall said. “I could swear…” he looked into Zee’s face one more time, reluctant to accept that his own eyes would lie to him so boldly. Zee stared back, fully committed to his story now that the initial shock and panic of seeing someone from before had subsided. His ears still rang like someone had boxed them from the word Jamey tossed out in proximity to Cameron Byrne and Anthony Shorey and all these people who belonged firmly to after.

“You gonna buy a shirt or something?” Zee asked with a little more sting behind it than he would have liked. Marshall was a good guy. But it did the trick. He gave an awkward hands-up gesture and backed off. Zee watched his friend’s back disappear into the colorful crowd.

Cam offered to take back his post behind the card reader and Anthony gladly gave it up. Cam said nothing at first, blowing warm air into his big-knuckled hands and rubbing them together near his lips. Finally he turned to Zee, which spiked his adrenaline all over again and made his teeth clench in his skull.

“He was right, wasn’t he?”

Lying to Marshall Sains and the rest of the world was one thing. Lying to Cameron was pointless, and it would only irritate him. Zee nodded.

“Who is he?”

“A guy I knew in highschool.”

“Where was highschool?”

Zee swallowed. They’d never talked about any of it, and he didn’t want to get into it here, in the middle of a crowd of people. Cam didn’t like when he acted too much like a mindless boxie, but he didn’t think he’d like him talking about his life before either.

“Kentucky,” he answered flatly.

Cameron scanned the crowd absently. “Mm.”

Zee stared at the fine print on the back of one of the Dunkin boxes, too small to read from where he sat and therefore too small to set off the needling discomfort that reading larger font brought onto his vision like a migraine.

Cam’s hand was chilly but not unpleasant on the back of his neck. It was a gentle weight, and he squeezed lightly with only the pads of his fingers. Zee turned in surprise, wondering what he would find in Cam’s eyes. They met his intently.

“I can call someone to come pick you up,” he said. “Alex is around I think.”

“No,” Zee shook his head. “I’m good.”

Cam gave him a questioning look, and now the pads of his fingers were almost petting the back of his neck, a touch that could be controlling or casual— certainly common among fraternity brothers to clasp each other by the back of the neck like it was a scruff— and turning it into something intimate. His skin tingled.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Drink something.” He nodded towards the boxes. “Either one, just get a drink.”

Zee reached for a paper cup and fumbled with the lever of the coffee box til steaming black liquid poured out. He hadn’t run the 5k at all but he felt like he’d sprinted it— his legs were shaky and his mouth was thick with saliva. He thought sweet cocoa might make him feel sick, and hoped caffeine would snap him out of his daze.

“Atta boy,” Cameron said under his breath, sliding the hand away from his neck. It wasn’t as condescending as it ought to be, or fake, or even really meant to be heard. It sounded something like simple camaraderie, even bordering on affection.

He sipped black coffee and felt the cold air on his neck where Cameron’s hand had been.

[bugeyedfreaks]

Your personal ranking for all the villains’ lairs/houses/homes in the Powerpuff Girls series?

Okay, so, I was actually going to make this a whole huge post with tons of screenshots and everything… but I never had the time and I haven’t answered it in months. These are also sort of my rapid fire, super quick opinions that aren’t ultra in-depth deep dives (if anyone wanted me to do one of my deep dives on one of the villain’s lairs… send me an ask and I might, as long as I could just focus on one at a time)… so they’re a little bit joke-y. But I want to post this once and for all, so here you go!

Fuzzy Lumpkins

Total cottagecore vibes. I mean, a cute, cozy little shack in the woods? So quaint! So calming! It's okay, ignore all the gunshot noises. 6/10!

Him

I like his weird pink void better than his Dali-esque one from the later seasons. It feels a lot more mysterious and foreboding to me, I can't exactly explain why. 8/10 for the pink void, 5/10 for the Dali-esque place.

Boogie Man

I WANT TO PARTY IN HIS SEXY UNDERGROUND DISCO 10/10!!!!!

Femme Fatale

Just a sensible apartment. The art could be less, uh, on point? 3/10, kind of bland.

Mojo Jojo

He absolutely needs more furniture, but the way he decorates is impeccable. I love that clean, modern feel... very sleek and sophisticated. The actual observatory is probably labyrinthian with all sorts of weird rooms and stuff and the fact that it has all that space while also being on top of a volcano is kind of cool. 9/10!

Gangreen Gang

It's a dump but they keep it pretty clean! I would not want to live that close to garbage, though. The actual clubhouse gets a 8/10 (it's comfy in there, plus they have a kickass stereo system and can jam whenever they want!) but for the location, I give it a 3/10.

Princess Morbucks

Genuinely wanted her bedroom as a kid (I just like the idea of having a big comfy royal bed with that curtain above it, it's so fancyyyy), and I think it's so cool that she apparently has, like, all this other cool junk in her house. She's so snobby and would give me a 0/10 but I have to give her place at least a 9/10.

The Smiths

I'd hate my life too if I had Harold's house. 2/10, just a typical suburban home.

Lenny Baxter

You know this place smells musty and crusty and is covered with a thin coating of Cheeto dust. 0/10, burn it to the ground and keep his collection inside when you do.

Roach Coach

I'm saving the worst ones for last, apparently. 🤣 I'll give his apartment a 1/10 because I just think it's so bizarre that he even had an apartment to begin with. I get that we're supposed to think he's a human, but I wonder if it's like a Men In Black thing where he's a roach that just lives inside a robot body and needed the place for appearances. ...anyway, I give the actual apartment building a 5/10 because it actually didn't look bad. It’s actually pretty nice and clean. Why must Roach Coach keep his place in such squalor?!

Also, is he paying the rent for all of his roach friends, too? Wow. What a king.

Sedusa never really had a place to live and I refuse to count the dump because that's really the GGG's turf, so I'm giving Craig McCracken a 0/10 score for this. Shame!

Actually, since I'm such a sweet and kind and generous person, I will give him a 10/10 for just letting the Amoeba Boys kind of wander around without a real home either. They're too stupid to own real estate. Great commitment to character detail. 👍

If I forgot anyone else's lair let me know and I’ll add it!

[banditomojado]

ATTENTION I HAVE FOUND A NEW SHOW TO OBSESS OVER. THE FOLLOWING IS A BRIEF BREAKDOWN OF ALL THE MAIN CHARACTERS AND WHY I LOVE THEM/WOULD DIE FOR THEM ALREADY.

Mild spoilers for the first 5 episodes of The Legend of Vox Machina!

Oh boy, where do I begin!!! I have always been a lover of fantasy ever since I saw LOTR as a young child! Unfortunately, I didn't grow up around friends who were into the genre so I was never exposed to things like D&D. But fear not, folks like me! You need not be a D&D veteran to enjoy this show! Okay, so let's start talking about the characters featured in this party!

First up, the twins! Specifically here, Vex'ahlia "Vex" Vessar! So I love that the series features a sibling pair. Vex, at least in the first few episodes, seems to be the de facto leader of the group. She's a half-elf, half-human, a ranger-type, a badass archer and skilled warrior. The group, especially her brother, seems to look to her for guidance and commands in a lot of situations. She's so cool and has a strong presence in every scene. She has a dry wit, always on point with her verbal jabs. I've only known her for a day, and already I would trust her with my life. I do feel like she is a little too controlling of her twin brother, but so far she hasn't done anything too awful besides passive-aggressively disapproving of her brother's budding attraction to another member of the party, but more on that later!

And now for her brother, Vax'ildan "Vax" Vessar! He is a rogue-like character, specializing in daggers and throwing knives, and stealthy combat. He is also a wizard at picking locks. Much like his sister, he maintains a cool, mysterious aura about him, and he seems to come in handy whenever the situation calls to be sneaky. LOVE that the series has heavily implied he's a bi-king, featuring several scenes in the first five episodes where he flirts with both male and female characters. I love his relationship with his sister, you can already tell they have been through a lot and have helped each other survive it all, although it could prove troublesome if he does in fact decide to pursue a certain other half-elf, half-human member of the party...

Speaking of which, up next is Keyleth of the Air Ashari! She is a druid, capable of a wide array of magical abilities like controlling plant-life and shape-shifting into different kinds of animals! She's so cool, but she also has a sort of "fresh-out-of-college-stumbling-through-life" kind of vibe that I find utterly adorable. She's awkward, messes up a lot, struggles with self-esteem issues, but always tries her absolute best and has already saved the party from certain death a few times. I'm a sucker for flawed, awkward characters who carry the weight of the world on their shoulders and are just trying to do their best. Apparently she is currently on a ritualistic quest (Aramenté) to prove herself to her people so she can one day lead them and is not allowed to return until she has done so. So much pressure on my girl! She is obviously attracted to Vax, and I think they would make a cute couple, but something tells me that things won't quite work out for them...

Up next is Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III! He is by far the "edgiest" member of the group. He is a human gunslinger, a somewhat surprising set of skills for a fantasy setting, but it fits into this world perfectly! He's incredibly skilled with his gun, very smart, and by far the most sophisticated of the party. He comes from royalty, after all, and the first five episodes reveal how that life was ripped from him following a violent coup d'état which resulted in the slaughter of his entire family. So needless to say, my man has some baggage. He seems to possess a darker side to him that only appears when he is in a state of rage. He is very scary when in that state, and even carries around a plague doctors mask for such occasions. Revenge stories are a favorite of mine, as they always manage to provide the character seeking revenge with immensely satisfying/cathartic arcs, so I'm very much excited to see where the story takes him! I also think it's very telling that he is the sole human character of the party, it explains his inclination towards the dark side!

Next up we have Pike Trickfoot! She is a gnome cleric, capable of magical abilities like healing and conjuring up light-based energy shields. She is a fascinating character, given that her magic stems from heavily religious beliefs, though she seems to revel in violent situations and vices like binge drinking. She is a sweetheart, always looking out for the other members of the party, but also not afraid to go toe-to-toe with an enemy! The first five episodes see her lose connection to the Everlight, a kind of goddess that is the source of her magical abilities, thus she is forced to separate from the group. This was a huge bummer, because I really enjoyed her interactions with the other members of the party, especially her close friendship with the next member of the group I'll be talking about!

Next up is Grog Strongjaw! He is a Goliath barbarian, specializing in brute strength and combat with his mighty ax. Normally I'm not that interested in big, buff, warrior-like characters, but he's an absolute delight! He provides a lot of the show's comedic relief, due in large part to his limited wit and insatiable desire for bloodshed. He is big and dumb, but full of heart and determination to keep his friends safe, especially Pike, who he seems to share an especially close bond with. LOVE that he calls her "Pikey"! Having to see them go their separate ways so early into the series was definitely upsetting (seeing him cry over not being able to feel her presence while they were apart was precious), but I'm glad the group still has his brute strength to rely on if things get hairy.

And finally, we have Scanlan Shorthalt! He is a gnome bard, who also seems to possess a few magical abilities via his lute, such as being able to conjure up a large, floating purple hand. He is by far the main source of comedic relief of the group, crass and hedonistic, with an admirable ability for quick wit. He is also the group's resident slut, never wasting an opportunity to possibly get laid. He also appears to be bi, which is lovely. Comic relief characters often hide the saddest backstories, so I'm excited to delve more into his past and learn more about him. He also seems to have a crush on Pike, which is just absolutely adorable, although based on how he acts around the group, it's no wonder nothing has happened between them yet. Better wait until he grows up a bit, Pikey.

So far, the series has given me plenty of reasons to love each member of the party, and the writing for them has so far been excellent! Love their various little interactions, I think you could pair off or group any member together and you would still get a satisfying story/adventure. Five episodes in and I'm completely hooked! If anyone who is a fan of the show wants to watch along with me, let me know! I know I'm super late to the party, but I would LOVE to discuss the story with someone! I'm aware that these characters existed long before the Amazon show and that the show itself was a result of a large fan-funded campaign, so I'm especially eager to get to talk to fans who have been there from the very beginning!

[khiptid]

so what's the story about Dr. Nedry? i need to know this "that's-a-moray' facts

also what his voice sounds like? cause seeing i hear either kelsey grammer or ray chase

(^via @banechomp )

RUBS MY HANDS TOGETHER. boy oh boy here we go. lizard time. I hope what I have to say here will suffice for now. More to come?

Dr. Silas Nedry had a mysterious upbringing, having been spoiled all his life but with no former family to speak of. In fact, he doesn't speak of anything before his Plague Walking days at all.

He'd met Dr. Hijinks before Plague Walking started having a lasting effect on him. Jinks becomes his closest subordinate and his trusted assistant. but not his friend. They trust each other, and that's enough.

Ned was in it for the money at first, obviously. Who wouldn't be? As he continued though, he began to grow new curiosities and attachments to the Terran artifacts that he finds.

He decides to retire indefinitely from Plague Walking, turning his career into a more sophisticated one, one born of pure passion. His fascination for Terrans and their rich history led him to become a bit of a biologist, little bit of a historian. Even a taxidermist! Though his work is very shoddy at best. (His favorite Terran creatures are bunny-rabbits.)

All of this was much to the befuddled ire of Hijinks, who will continue to question his career choices to no end. To top it all off, Ned even gains his own independent funding from someone they'd met by chance while out pirating.

Mr. Artie Prowl is a bit of a mixed bag. He's a revered bounty hunter, and a very rich one at that. He admires Nedry for his confidence and hunger for power and money(even if he did lose some of that when changing his career path). Though, these thoughts begin to change a slight bit more when, well..

To put it lightly, and it might surprise you, but Nedry has also gained a bit of a reputation of his own. Though it's not precisely in the way he expected.

Due to his connections with Artie, many people who saw or heard of the two being benefactors considered Nedry to be a strange sort of recluse, or even an evil scientist. Mostly, it's just people basing things on appearances.

It's not to say Ned didn't enjoy this interpretation, quite on the contrary. He thought the "evil scientist" persona sounded quite fun! Finally, something that Hijinks would agree with him on, it's about time the guy he's following starts to take on more power again. Even if it is very silly in retrospect.

Artie is feeling bored one day. So bored that he doesn't even have the mind to visit Ned himself to check up on his work, making sure the money's being put to good use. Instead.. he hires a merc group to do it for him, but with a twist.

Shrike & Beebs had only heard of Nedry in passing from the news program, only in connection to Artie. Things get even more interesting though, when they get PAID by Artie to "investigate" the guy, whatever that really meant, the instructions were pretty vague. Well hey, money is money!

They know he's supposedly a devious little shut-in, just from word of mouth. At their destination, the two locate the Dr.'s lab at a remote tropical planet, finding it absolutely COVERED with vegetation.

They split up while searching for the Doctor, and yes it's as much of a bad idea as you think. Thanks to Dr. Hijinks' cunning, Beebs falls through a trapdoor into a big hole and is trapped there for a little bit.

Shrike however, gets caught by the Doctor himself. By this point, Nedry has already completely leaned into the Evil Scientist persona, really laying it on thick as he has Shrike strapped to an inspection table, explaining some very very fake evil plans to the squidboy.

Shrike isn't having any of this at all, seeming bored out of his mind the whole time. When he looks at the room around him however, many things catch his eye, thoroughly distracting him from whatever the lizard is yapping about.

Shelves upon shelves of old and tattered books, fake animals, framed objects, scattered news articles on Terran escapees?

"What the hell? Are you really just some kind'a huge Terran nerd??"

The Doctor scoffs and sweats, baffled at the sudden yet correct accusation.

"I... WELL. Nerd is a strong word THANK YOU VERY MUCH. but um. i don't know a little i guess. whatever. Not even- not even that big of a deal. tch."

"So you're.. not even evil. You're just-" He shrugs in his binds, hands splaying forward in a vague gesture. "Like me?"

They exchange a long glance.

While Shrike is still restrained, they start to bond and talk over their shared love of Terran history and culture. When Shrike begins to talk about how much he loves El Bandito stuff, Nedry realizes he never considered looking into Terran art. It slipped his mind, and he wants to know more about it. He can't help but feel.. curious? Happy? Intrigued? A lot of things. But it was nice.

By the time things have long been chill, Beebs has found a way back up, storming through the entire lab to get back to Shrike, leaving a knocked-out Dr. Hijinks in his wake.

The double-doors burst open, catching the two dorks' attention.

"O hey Beebs! Ya finally caught up! You'll never guess wha-"

He's interrupted when Nedry absolutely SHRIEKS at the huge oncoming figure AND the impact, his face meeting with an energized hammer sending him flying into the wall.

"HEYWOAHWOAH WHAT THE HELL YOU DOING!!!!" Had it not been for the fact that he's restrained, he would've been putting his hands on his head in shock. "BEEBSWAIT STOPSTOPSTOP!"

He does stop giving chase when Shrike calls out, to Beebs' credit. He was just so blindsided by seeing the doctor having his buddy tied down. He looks down at the decommissioned lizard, practically seeing the halo of stars twirling around his head from the hard hit. "Oh! Uh. My bad?"

Shrike gets freed with help, and Ned gets back onto his feet. He jokingly 'swears vengeance' on the Monkey Wrench crew for this misgiving, secretly waving to Shrike in implication that their new connection is not unfounded.

Beebs is kinda weirded out, and Shrike left the place more giddy than before.

"So, I mean.. We got the job done, I guess. The investigation?"

"Yea, I'd say so! Not to worry amigo, I got some good intel."

"So you did. Is he really, like.. you know, evil or somethin'? Like everyone thinks?"

Shrike ponders for a good moment, recalling the whole interaction, silently excited.

"Eh! Maybe not." He gives a noncommittal shrug.

A new cycle begins, and Nedry's assistant is very much annoyed with it. Now begins a pattern of Ned "capturing" Shrike in his lair, only for them to be talking to each other like some sort of secret Terran Book Club. Beebs always comes to his "rescue" afterward. He's still weirded out about it, but y'know, it's not like anyone's really getting hurt. One Gimmel Hijinks glares from the shade of the background.

Dr. Hijinks has decided enough is enough. They believe Ned's relationship with that- that dim-witted merc, is softening him up. Making him weak. They have zero interest in following weak people

They get into a heated argument with Dr. Ned that ends in them taking their leave for good, leaving for greener pastures. Nedry is left cold and confused.

He never picked up on any of the signs.

It takes a long while for Nedry to recover from a loss like that, as much as it confused him. His 'nemesis-ship' with Shrike continues, but he still has to shove that wistful sadness down.

Shrike falls asleep on the table one time, and when Beebs shows up to take him back, he takes notice of the behavioral change. He lets Nedry confide in him.

"I never want to shove people away, as much as I love this.. persona, y'know. Did they just not support me enough? ..Did I not support them enough?"

"It's hard to say, man. Especially in a situation like this. When someone leaves your life out of the blue, there's a good chance you may never know."

"That's-.... but- UUGHH THIS IS SO STUPID!! WHY ARE FEELINGS SO HARD!!"

"If it were that easy, this entire galaxy would never have conflict, lemme tell you."

He scoffs in response, pouting with his arms crossed. "Hmph. Stupid. Bad things should just never happen, ever. Especially not to me." His legs dangle from the table.

Beebs is unable to stifle the laugh that escapes him.

"H-. HEY STOP THAT. WHAT'S SO FUNNY!!!" He shuffles in place, watching the Walrinian wipe a joyful tear from his face

"HAha- hah.. sorry, sorry. I don't know, it's just.. such a huge contrast from my first impression of you."

Nedry flusters at this, watching Beebs leave the lab with his sleeping partner draped over his shoulder.

Meanwhile, somewhere, Mr. Artie Prowl is pondering whether he should still be spending his money on someone so.. distracted.

_

HI WOW I DIDN'T EXPECT TO PUT OUT THIS MUCH. UM! What can I say this always happens when I want to make a ""short summary"". The uber instincts of my uber [AMBIGUOUS DISORDER].

As for the voice thing, you had some very neat choices there! I can definitely see where you're coming from with both of those options. However.. my own headcanon voice for him is much more silly in comparison, I must admit. Have a listen!

(sorry it's so long, there were just too many good clips I couldn't pass up on.)

Thanks so much for the ask!! I'm always open to more