#but now that i can read that shit for myself?

[doodledrawsthings]

you. Oh my god, you. (Positive)

listen. Before I had internet access, all I had was 1 hour of allotted browser time, bing image search, and a single dantdm play through of a hat in time that never got finished. I googled fanart and got pretty much nothing, I googled fancomics and got pretty much nothing, but you know what I did end up finding?

your art.

from ages 11-14, my goal in life, in art, was your art. I can’t tell you how much I loved finding random screenshots of your posts, because I was always just so impressed by how clean and consistent your sketches are, how the characters always stay on model, the shape language, how you could somehow sketch a character in like 20 lines when it took me 50 to draw sans in my little spiral notebook— like! Holy shit! For years I have looked up to your art! There’s still a photos folder on my dads old huge-ass 12 inch work iPad labeled “holy crap” and filled with your art. Because it inspired me so much. It’s become an undeniable part of my artstyle, now — I still have fanart I drew way back in the day of Hattie and the rest, I didn’t even know anyone’s names because I couldn’t play the game, but you’re the reason I eventually did play the game. Your coffee shop au and different versions of the prince— one of those ieterations inspired the main character of my novel! Well, novel that I tried to write, I was 13 so it was eh, but I tried!!

I’m submitting this on-anon because I don’t want to out my age on the wide internet (I like my privacy) but. Your art has really meant a lot to me. It’s the reason I played hollow knight, and it’s the reason I kept trying to develop an art style I was happy with. You’re the reason I started scribbling comics in my notebooks. Being 13-14 was pretty much the worst two years of my life, but I had Bing image search and the occasional glimpse of your signature, and I’d be so happy every time I found a new (if crusty) three-times screenshotted jpg. You literally introduced me to the concept of polyamory and nonbinary-ness with the coffee shop au. I had no other access to that in my household, and. Yeah. It meant a lot to me.

Anyway. I’m so glad I’ve finally tracked you down (in the most non-ominous way possible) and I’m so glad you’re still active— Please never stop making art. Your art is incredible, and amazing, and also you never know who’s out there on Bing image search. Thank you for creating for as long as you have. You’re pretty much the reason I’m shooting for an art degree (Wish me luck!) so just…Thank you.

(Also I had no idea you were a professional storyboarder, which is insane because that’s what I want to be when I’m through college. Hey, maybe I’ll end up storyboarding a remake of something you’ve storyboarded! hehehe)

Hi anon!

So right off the bat, I gotta tell you that this message made me start bawling when I woke up and saw it. Like I had a full-on cry session while reading your message and lying in bed for almost an hour. I am crying as I am typing this response, on my phone, still in bed. It’s 11am and i woke up at 9. So I hope it turns out coherent.

The last two years have been. weird. I say that a lot because I wanna say “rough” but that still doesn’t feel quite right. I’m almost hyper-aware that there are so many people that have it worse than me rn, so it feels hard to even acknowledge when I’m going through anything, myself, sometimes- REGARDLESS, it’s been kind of an all-time low for my mental health. There was a point within in the last year where I just HATED drawing. I struggled to bring myself to work, I struggled to bring myself to even draw for fun. It felt like I was posting just to post, trying to keep people aware of my existence and it almost felt physically painful to force myself to sit down and do it, sometimes.

I’m getting better now, I think, but. Yknow.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the “oh I can make money off this,” “oh I can get attention off this,” “oh I can prove myself a functional person in society with this,” of it all. I forget why I actually do this, sometimes, or if I even enjoy it. And then I get messages like yours, about the kid with limited internet access looking for A Hat in Time fan art on Bing image search, and I get taken back to when I was a kid scrolling Google images and deviantart for the same thing.

I don’t mean to like. Foster some kind of parasocial thing with you or any one of my followers. There’s a reason I’m saying all this, I hope it ties up in the end.

We don’t know each other. I’m not some mysterious legendary artist, or whatever. I’m a person who gets burnt out, and jealous, and insecure. I need inspiration to function, just like you, and when I don’t have it, I get art block. But I also really like to draw fictional characters kissing and hanging out. I like coming up with comics and stories and playing out dramatic and funny scenarios in my head like I’m mashing Barbies together. And when other people tell me they enjoy the stuff I put out when I do this, it makes me really, really, really happy.

I think I needed to read your message, probably. With the state of… Everything… Right now, especially recently, I feel like a lot of artists are also struggling with a sense of purpose, pride, and reason as the world makes it harder and harder to even BE an artist, these days. And when I read this message it was like Anton Ego at the end of Ratatouille, I got taken back to when I was a kid looking at my favorite artists and studying their style and striving to be better and better at it over years of my life. Not just because I wanted a job for it or cuz I wanted to be a famous Disney animator or whatever, but because it was fun and I just liked doing it.

Thank you, SO much. I say this in the most genuine and earnest way I possibly can possibly express. I wish you luck on your own path in art and art school. And if you decide that animation industry is your thing, then I wish you the best in that endeavor, as well. I think I will keep making art for a long time.

Peace and love on the planet earth ✌️✌️✌️

[nehi-soda]

Bite the Hand that Needs You -

trailer park!joel miller x female! reader

Explicit; Minors DNI 18+ only.

Summary: Your sharp tongue gets you into trouble.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: DUB CON, established relationship, unprotected p in v sex, rough sex, oral sex (m receiving), profanity, size kink, spanking, breath play, praise kink, dd/lg undertones, unspecified age gap, humiliation kink, dirty talk, creampie, possessive behaviour, pet names (babygirl, darlin,' good girl). No outbreak, older boyfriend!joel, redneck!joel, trailerparktrash!joel. No use of Y/N. Mood board for aesthetics only; reader's features aren't specified other than Joel can pick them up.

A/N: This was inspired by an opening scene from No Country for Old Men, featuring Llewelyn Moss (who, as I read, served as inspiration for Joel) and Carla Jean.

The trailer door slammed hard enough to rattle the loose siding, the hiss of the cheap hydraulic arm dragging out the sound until it snapped shut. Joel stomped inside, his boots heavy, leaving clods of dirt and god knows what else on the already dingy linoleum. He looked like he’d crawled through hell. Grease streaked his arms, dust clung to his sweat-soaked shirt, and his face had that particular scowl—the one that meant trouble had followed him home again.

You leaned against the counter, arms crossed, barefoot in a short ratty old nightdress. A cigarette dangled from your lips, trailing smoke toward the low ceiling fan that clunked with every uneven rotation.

“Jesus, Joel, what’d you get into this time?” You didn’t bother hiding the bite in your tone. “You look like someone dragged you through the back end of a damn cattle chute.”

He didn’t answer. Just grabbed a beer from the fridge, twisted the cap off, and tossed it onto the counter without even looking at you. You hated when he did that—just skated past your questions like you were a mosquito buzzing in his ear.

“Hey,” you snapped, louder this time. “Don’t just walk in here all covered in—what the hell even is that? Mud? Blood? What the fuck have you been doing?”

He took a long pull from the bottle, the muscles in his throat working as he swallowed. “I don’t need to explain myself to you,” he muttered, voice low and gravelly.

“Like hell you don’t,” you shot back, pushing off the counter and squaring up to him, not caring that he had at least a foot and a hundred pounds on you. “You come in here looking like death warmed over, tracking shit all over the floor, and I don’t get an explanation? Fuck you, Joel.”

That got his attention. His eyes, sharp as broken glass, cut to you. “What’d I tell you about that mouth?”

You rolled your eyes, the cigarette dangling precariously. “Oh, here we go. Mister Big Man can’t handle a little attitude. What’re you gonna do, Joel? Lecture me?”

His lip curled, just enough to show his teeth. “You keep runnin’ it, I’m gonna take you in the back and shut you up real damn quick.”

“Big talk,” you fired back, though your pulse kicked up hard at his proposition.

He stepped closer, close enough that you could smell the spur tang of sweat and dirt on him. “You don’t wanna test me tonight, darlin’.”

“Don’t I?” The words slipped out before you could think better of them, your chin tipping up in defiance. You’d been pushing his buttons all week, and some stupid part of you wasn’t ready to stop.

Joel moved fast, his hand shot out gripping your jaw, forcing you to look up at him as he plucked the cigarette from between your fingers, taking a long, deliberate drag. He exhaled slowly, the smoke curling around your face. “That’s it,” he growled, low and rough like the rumble of an engine about to stall. “Get your ass in the bedroom. Now.”

You didn’t move, half out of defiance, half because the heat between your legs had turned your knees to mush. “Make me.” You spoke quietly between squished cheeks.

Joel's eyes darkened as they did, a feral spark igniting in their murky depths. Before you could spit another defiant word, he hauled you up as if you weighed nothing, slinging you over his shoulder like a foreman might toss a sack of feed. You clung to the flannel on his back in tight fists like a defiant child.

“Joel, goddammit—” you kicked and screamed, but the sharp crack of his palm against your now exposed ass cut you off mid-protest, the sting lingering just long enough to make you bite your tongue.

“You got yourself in trouble, baby girl,” he growled before he carried you through the narrow hallway, shoving open the door to the cramped bedroom with his boot, the hinges creaking in protest.

He didn’t bother with the light. The room was dim, lit only by the faint orange glow of a streetlamp outside the room’s one grimy window, and the yellowed net curtain barely gave you privacy. Shadows clawed at the walls as he kicked the door shut behind him, the small space feeling even smaller as he threw you down onto the mattress, the springs groaning under your weight. You scrambled up onto your elbows, glaring at him even as your body betrayed you, thighs clenching together in anticipation. “You’re such a goddamn caveman,” you spat, but your voice wavered just enough to make him smirk.

“Still feel like runnin’ that pretty little mouth, huh?” he asked, his shadowy broad frame towering over you like the monsters your dad would say were all in your head when you couldn’t sleep at night as a kid.

You swallowed hard, your pride warring with the way your body burned under his gaze. “Yeah,” you shot back, though your voice trembled just enough to betray you. “What the hell are you gonna do about it?” A shiver raced down your spine, pooling heat low in your belly as your legs subconsciously parted exposing your lacey panties you could feel were already soaked through.

Joel’s lips curved into a slow, predatory smirk as he reached out, tangling his hand in your roots and dragged you off the bed in one swift motion. "Don’t worry, darlin’. I’m gonna put it to some fuckin' use,” he spat. You stumbled off the bed and to the floor with a yelp, the threadbare carpet offering little comfort for your knees.

“You keep pushin’ me, and this is what you get,” he growled, his voice low and menacing, vibrating through the small room. His grip on your hair tightened, tilting your head back so you were forced to look up at him. His other hand went to his belt, the leather sliding free with a sharp hiss.

You opened your mouth to spit some smartass retort, but the words stuck in your throat as your brain seemed to switch off when he pulled his cock free, hard and heavy, the sight making your breath hitch. He didn’t ask, didn’t wait for permission—Joel never did. His hand on your hair tugged harder, guiding your mouth open as he lined himself up, the head of his cock brushing against your lips.

"Suck it."

You parted your lips, hesitant but burning, the heat in his gaze daring you to disobey. The second your mouth wrapped around him, Joel groaned low in his throat, the sound rough and raw as his hips bucked forward. He didn’t ease into it—he pushed in deep, hitting the back of your throat with a force that made your eyes water.

“That’s it,” he hissed, his hand fisting tighter in your hair as he set a brutal pace, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth with relentless precision. "See, we get on so much better when you just shut the fuck up and be a good little slut for me."

You gagged, your hands gripping his thighs for balance as he used you, each thrust driving the breath from your lungs. Tears streamed down your face, mixing with the spit that dripped from the corners of your mouth, but Joel didn’t stop. He was relentless, his groans and growls filling the room as he forced you to take every inch of him. You tried to garble insults back at him for being so patronising but your mouth what too full of his cock.

"Shhh now, baby, just take it like a good girl."

And suddenly, he pulled you back and pushed you up against the end of the bed, caged in by his legs; your head pinned between the edge of the mattress and his cock being rammed down your throat.

You were a fucking mess, a pretty mess, but your makeup ran like a pornstar in one of those movies they rented in the back of every seedy truck stop—eyes all glassy and vacant.

“Fuckin’, shit", he moaned, his voice thick and strained as his fingers tightened in your hair, keeping your head pinned right where he wanted as he rutted his hips forwards. "Fuckin' perfect like this. Chokin’ on it, takin’ me so goddamn good.”

He pushed in balls deep and held it there. You slapped his arm and thighs, your desperation leaking through in frantic jerks when he cruelly pinched your nose and cut off your oxygen supply for a little too long.

“Uh-uh,” he muttered his voice low and mocking, “Not yet. You can take it. You’re my good girl, ain’t ya?”

The tears streamed down your face said otherwise, but he finally decided you could breath again and pulli out of your throat completely just as the black spots start to dance at the edges of your vision, and you gasped, sucking in air in great, greedy gulps. A line of spit connected your lips to the tip of his swollen cock. 

"Good job, baby. You got me nice and hard." he cooed.

"Fuck you," you spat with absolute disdain.

"Aw, I love you too," he mocked, giving a couple light slaps to your wet cheek.

And before you could catch a break, he dragged you to your feet and back onto the bed, pinning you to the mattress with one hand gripping your wrists above your head and the other slid lower, dipping into your panties and teasing your needy little pussy with a sick tenderness as if he wasn’t just skull fucking you. You wanted to scream at him, hit him, claw at him, fuck him, but all you could do was gasp and moan and writhe and buck your hips against his hand.

“Look at you,” he muttered, voice gravelly and full of contempt that somehow made your pussy wetter. “Mouthy as all hell a minute ago, now you’re soakin’ my damn hand. You gonna tell me you don’t like this?”

“Shut up,” you hissed, but the tremble in your voice gave you away. You twisted under him, trying to pull your wrists free, but his grip tightened, and he just laughed at you.

Your legs twitched involuntarily as his thumb found your clit, circling with maddening precision. Your nails dug into the cheap polyester comforter, dragging it up in your fists. “You’re such a piece of shit,” you hissed, but it came out more like a whimper.

“And you love it,” Joel growled, his lips brushing your jaw. He smelled like sweat and beer and the faint metallic tang of blood, but it was intoxicating. “You’d be bored stiff with anyone else, and you know it.”

You hated how right he was, hated the way his words made the fire in your belly burn hotter. His teeth grazed your collarbone before he bit down just hard enough to leave a mark. He yanked your slip dress up, rough fingers sliding over your bare skin, pulling a gasp from your throat. His mouth was on you a second later, flattening his tongue and suckling on your pebbled nipples.

“Goddamn it, Joel,” you squirmed, your body arching into him despite your better judgment.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he muttered against your skin, “Say my name like you mean it.”

He pulled back just enough to shove his jeans down lower. You watched, chest heaving, as he fisted his hard length.

“Turn over,” he ordered.

You hesitated and his is jaw ticked, his patience clearly hanging by a thread. “What, are you too cock drunk or somethin’? I said turn over, 'm gonna fuck you proper,” he growled, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your stomach like you weighed nothing and ripping your panties off in one swift motion.

"Goddamn, baby. You may have a stupid mouth, but you've sure got sweet little ass," he said, his hand coming down hard on your ass, the sharp sting making you yelp, cutting through the haze in your head.

The mattress springs groaned again as he pinned his full body weight against your back and shoved your knees apart, the cool air hitting your bare leaking cunt.

And then he was inside you, the sudden stretch making you cry out. He didn’t give you a second to adjust, didn’t give you the chance to catch your breath—he just started slamming into you.

Your cries were muffled by the pillow you buried your face into as he gripped your hips and fucked you deeper into the mattress, the springs bouncing you back onto his dick. You relaxed your lower body, embracing the way he was using you like his personal fuck toy. 

“Don’t you dare stop talkin’ now,” he growled, “You got plenty to say when you’re givin’ me shit—what about now, huh? Tell me how good it feels.”

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction, but then his hand slid around to press against your clit, and the sound that came out of your mouth wasn’t anything close to coherent.

"Fuck, feels good-" you choked on your words.

“That’s my girl,” he muttered, his voice smug with triumph.

You didn’t stay quiet—not when he tilted his hips just right, not when his rough fingers dug into your hips, not when his cocked dragged against your sweet spot. Trembling gasps and moans you couldn’t suppress escaped your lips and tears streaked your face as you clutch the sheets in white-knuckled fists.

Jesus, the neighbours will be bangin' on the walls thinkin' I'm killin' ya' again," he murmured, his voice dark and gravelly, almost taunting. 

“Hey,” he mutters, his voice low and raw, but not soft. Joel Miller doesn’t do soft. His thumb brushes roughly along your cheek, smearing the evidence. “What’s this now?”

You bit your lip, stifling a cry and buried your face but the tears kept coming, hot and humiliating, pooling on the pillow beneath you. The pleasure was too much—his rhythm, the heat of his skin. You didn’t want to cry, didn’t even understand why you were, but it was like every nerve in your body had snapped, leaving you open, raw, and helpless beneath him.

“I’m not—” you started, but the words dissolved into a broken sob when he angled his hips just right, grinding into you with a precision that was almost cruel. Your legs trembled, thighs burning as you tried to hold yourself together, but it was no use.

“Not what?” he growled, leaning closer, his chest pressing against your back, the full weight of him pressing you further into the bed. “Cryin’ all over my dick?” He laughed bitterly, the sound vibrating against your spine. “I can feel how tight your little pussy gets the harder you cry.”

His vulgar words were enough for your eyes to roll back, and you felt that white-hot sensation flood your body. “Fuck—Joel, I'm gonna cum-." you whimpered.

Your whole body tensed every nerve lit up at once as the tension coiled tighter and tighter, impossibly so, until it snapped with a force that stole the air from your lungs. The sobs tore out of you as your orgasm crashed over you, leaving you violently convulsing beneath him. Your cunt clenched around him, dragging him over the edge with you, and he groaned low in his throat, his hips stuttered as he spilled inside you.

The room was silent for a long moment after, the only sound was your ragged breathing and the faint hum of the ceiling fan. Joel finally rolled off you, collapsing onto his back beside you with a grunt.

“Still think I’m a piece of shit?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Absolutely,” you said, but there wasn’t much bite in your tone. You were too spent to fight anymore.

“Good,” he said, his hand reaching out to trail lazily over your back. “Means I’m doin’ somethin’ right.”

You shuffled up leant against Joel’s chest, still trying to catch your breath, the stale air of the trailer thick around you, the scent of sweat and sex hung like a smothering blanket. He lit another cigarette, always Marlboro red, dragging deeply before exhaling a cloud toward the ceiling. His arm remained loosely draped over your waist.

“See, all you needed was a good fuckin,’” His voice was course but there was a smugness in his tone that you’d kill to wipe off his face if your body didn’t feel so wholly used and spent.

You tilted your head just enough to glance up at him, your lips curled into a half-sneer. 

He chuckles, deep and low, the sound vibrated against your skin. “You got your answer. I don’t explain myself to anyone.”

Your frustration flared again, simmering beneath the haze of pleasure that still buzzing in your veins. You shoved at his chest, but he didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. “You’re a goddamn nightmare, you know that?”

Joel shrugged, taking another drag. “Maybe. But you ain’t goin’ anywhere, are ya?”

The bastard. He was right, and you hated him for it. Hated the way his arrogance got under your skin, hated how he knew exactly what to say to keep you tethered to him like a moth to a goddamn flame. 

“I should kick your ass out of here,” you murmured half heartedly.

He smirked, his hand slid down your hip, gentle fingertips grazed over the bruises he’d left there. “Yeah? And who’s gonna keep you warm at night?”

You didn’t answer, too tired and content to fight. Instead, you nuzzled into his chest and watched the smoke dance out of his lips, staring at the cracked ceiling and wondering how the hell you ended up wrapped in the arms of a man who’s nothing but trouble, yet everything you couldn’t seem to let go of. If you told him you’d die here if you’d stay, he would hold you in his arms, and he’d love it that way.

divider by @adornedwithlight

*Some lines taken from Nicole dollanganger songs (Heart Shaped Bed, Runnin’ free).

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

you've given me too much animorphs inspiration (animorspiration?) and I'm now drowning. help. I wrote like half an essay on The Tragedy of David and how it's not really about whether he deserved a chance to change but the fact that they just straight up did not have the luxury (or tools) to give one. I think that while rachel's only regret is not giving him a clean kill, at the same time she would have done almost anything to be able to throw david at a competent adult role model and watch him face a nonlethal and constructive consequence for his actions.

I think a lot of things about david, too many for the little shit. he's such an asshole, he's cruel and sexist and so fucking unpleasant to read about I can barely imagine the horror of actually being in a room with him. but he's also just fucking thirteen. I want to grab him by the scruff of his neck and send him to therapy. even better I want a story where his family lives and it doesn't magically make him a decent person, he's still awful because he's goddamn david, and *then* he's dragged to a good therapy program and has a real incentive to change. also I guess the child soldier thing would be happening too in the background or whatever.

I couldn't agree more, with all of that. The decision to nothlit him (and kill him) is excruciatingly well-justified in canon. He's so despicable that I often want to reach through the page and throttle him. He reminds me of myself when I was a spoiled, damaged 13-year-old sick to death of being The New Kid at every school.

Maybe I was never quite that misogynistic. But at 13, I thought Light Yagami had the right approach to ethics. I thought the world would be better off if people would just shut up and give more power to the government. I was naive, I was awkward, I was a rich white kid with more experience being excluded than befriended and my social skills reflected that. Oh, and did I mention my obsession with snakes and horror comics and trying to shock adults? Because that's the root of my personal desire to stomp David's face in.

He's a normal kid, with normal problems, with a normal amount of teenage self-centeredness and temperamentalism. And the other Animorphs have basically no choice but to kill him to get him off their team. Because he's not ready for the tremendous soul-crushing responsibility they're forced to take on, to keep their species alive.

You know that old joke, about including exactly one normal athlete on every Olympic team so that we can really appreciate just how astoundingly good all the Olympians are? That's David, for the Animorphs. He's not superhumanly selfless, and he's the only one on the team for whom that's true.

[hkthatgffan]

What's actually your opinion on Stanford Pines?

Oh, that's an interesting question. Short answer; I like Ford and think he's a great, flawed but lovable character who has endured a lot and come out of it a better man than he was before. Now, if you want my long answer...keep reading beyond this for why I feel that way.

Back when I first saw Gravity Falls, I thought Ford was okay. He wasn't so much a favourite of mine (that title then and still belongs to Dipper and Mabel for me), nor was I as interested in him. I did love reading up everything in Journal 3 about him and all his antics.

During the Mabel hate era in 2018, I did somewhat sour in my opinion on Ford as I felt fans were being too harsh on Mabel and not realizing some of the negatives about him and how Dipper and Mabel were drifting into the same direction Ford and Stan had become. I felt angry that fans were hating on Mabel and calling out her mistakes but downplaying other characters', Ford included.

But then, if you were around in 2018 and remember the Mabel debates that raged on then...you know how messy it was no matter what side you were on, lmao. Be it anti or pro Mabel or Ford, people really debated long and hard during that time and it's an era I'm glad we're more or less past.

In the years since and having heard more takes from fans who like Ford and get him in ways I didn't, I do find myself appreciating and liking Ford a lot more than I did back then. I'm still always gonna be defensive of Mabel and firm on my stance that Dipper staying behind in Gravity Falls with Ford was the worst outcome that could've happened in that scenario, but I see Ford in a lens less of hatred and more realization that...the whole situation was a learning experience for everyone in that situation. Ford learned something from it, Mabel did, Dipper did...all of them did.

To me, Ford is a character that is good at heart. Like every member of the Pines family, he's flawed and has made mistakes that he's overcome and improved from. And as we see again in The Book of Bill...there is one major new thing we really see that makes him all the better in my eyes now than he used to be!

I've spoken about this before when someone asked what my stance on Billford is, but I think as someone who has survived being in toxic situations with people who made my life worse the same way Bill was a toxic person to Ford, I understand him more so now than I used to.

What we see is Ford and Bill having a partnership (or friendship or relationship depending on how you see it) that was toxic. Bill was manipulative, took Ford and tried to mold him into what he wanted him to be. And Ford eventually realized that but Bill made his life hell for trying to escape. Ford eventually being able to and learn to find happiness in his family and friends was an incredible thing to see and that single thing, having been through such shit myself as others probably can relate too, changed Ford in a huge way for me for the better.

Ford to me is a guy who managed to overcome the worst thrown at him and be able to let go of that whole situation and escape it to become better. And we all deserve that. We all deserve to escape the Bill Ciphers in our life, find our Pines family and grow and become better and happier from that.

That is what I think of Stanford Pines. He's a character who is flawed. He's a character who has his ups and downs. But at his core, he is a guy who overcame adversities thrown at him and found a way to live a better and more fulfilling life with those who appreciate and love him for who he is. For a character I once felt no real connection or understanding for and more so hatred...he sure has come a long way for the better and I couldn't be more proud of him.

I know for others this may not be how they see Ford or you may even look at what I said and think I missed the whole point. But that's okay. Because these characters are for us as fans to relate and find aspects in them we can understand. Headcanons exist for a reason. To me, that's how I see Ford. To you, he may be something else.

That's the beauty of this show. Headcanon these character the way you please, without fear or worry of being told you're wrong. Alex has said no headcanon to him will ever be confirmed or denied...so headcanon and perceive these characters the way you feel. Because we all are Gravity Falls fans...and love them the way we do.

But FR, we need more Mabel and Ford bonding. That's all I want from this show now...these two just having fun and being awesome, lol!!

[badgeredwrites]

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Holy shit. Look at me starting strong with a stalker Barty… And considering I am the self-proclaimed love of his life, I thought it was fitting. Anyways, this is a concept I’d definitely love to explore in the future. Let me know what you think! ᡣ𐭩

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: Exploration of Stalking & Obsessive Behaviors, Mentions of Borderline Personality Disorder, Emotional Manipulation, Brief Abusive Parental Relationships

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 657

⋆｡°✩ Concept: Stalker!Barty

Alright, so, I finished reading Lights Out by Navessa Allen recently and since my mind automatically goes to everything Marauders related, I asked myself: Out of everyone in the Marauders Era, who would most be like Josh?

The only person who came to mind was, of course, none other than Barty Crouch Jr. There are several reasons for this… Let me explain.

Imagine:

Modern AU where technology becomes prevalent in everyday life, including in the wizarding community.

Barty Crouch Jr, the son of a well-known politician who favors his public image and reputation over everything else, having absolutely no online presence due to his father’s strict rules.

However, despite this, he’s drawn to muggle technology and since his father is not only emotionally absent but also neglectful, he’s essentially left to his own devices. Which gives him the perfect opportunity to explore his interest in tech (and develop an anonymous online persona—we’ll come back to this in a moment).

Canonically speaking, Barty is one of the most brilliant people in the Harry Potter series. He was sorted into Ravenclaw and received all twelve O.W.L.s. Not to mention, he was also able to live as Mad-Eye Moody under Polyjuice potion for months without being detected.

With this information in mind, it’s safe to say he would be quite skilled in the field of technology. It wouldn’t take long for him to hone his abilities.

Now, back to the anonymous online persona, I feel like it would be safe to assume that Barty would have quite the rebellious streak. He, truthfully, could not care less about his father’s reputation. However, in order to avoid the man’s wrath (because let’s be real, Bartemius Sr was most definitely an abusive piece of shit) and with the growing popularity of masked accounts online, he seizes his opportunity to participate in the trend.

This ultimately leads to him becoming one of the most popular accounts, but the attention he garnishes is nothing more than an ego boost to him. That is until someone eventually catches his eye.

Personally, I’ve always thought that it would be possible for Barty to have undiagnosed Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), which can lead to obsessive tendencies (extending towards platonic relationships, not just romantic).

This man would also be the type to have avoidant attachment issues due to the lack of care regarding his emotional needs as a child.

So, when his attention is caught by this individual online, his thoughts are literally consumed by them.

Through the usage of technology and his vast understanding of it, the stalking would start small. With a quick search about them online he would be able to start compiling information regarding their interests, the locations they frequent, their personal relationships, etc.

Of course, this behavior would quickly escalate.

Remember, Barty has an anonymous online persona. Nobody—not even his closest friends—knows of the identity behind his masked account, so this would give him a major advantage. He would have the ability to “coincidentally” appear in the places this individual visits most often.

Which, in turn, allows him to develop a personal relationship with his victim.

Unfortunately for Barty, due to his struggles with BPD, I do believe he would find it difficult to establish a relationship with them at first. After all, he’s quite standoffish person when it comes to new people.

However, equipped with the knowledge he gained through his online stalking, he would be able to use this to his advantage to slowly gain their trust.

In my opinion, it would only be when he establishes a bond with his victim that the monitoring begins.

Perhaps he gifts them something small, such as a key chain or hair clip that actually has a tracker inside of it… Or, once he finally is invited over and places inconspicuous cameras around their home, allowing him footage from every angle.

There are honestly so many things that could be done with Barty as a stalker (and I intend to explore them all).

[dobbysimp]

since this is tumblr after all, i feel like i should go back to my roots so:

things that have been said to or around me, as incorrect marauders quotes

sirius: what kinda fruit would i be? and dont say faggot

mary: imagine getting to absolutely explode inside someone

*30 seconds of silence of picturing it*

🎶iF i WeRe A bOy 🎶

peter: cereal is non binary

sirius: sure if you wanna make it into gay shit

peter: FRUIT LOOPS ITS IN THE NAME

james: if you were a fruit loop color which one w- LETS TAKE A QUIZZ

barty: i don’t just throw it away, i play catch w my sanity

Remus: *mom lore*

Peter: were you an accident?

Remus: oh yeah

Peter: that checks out

sirius: i love cum

james: 🤨

sirius: dont quote me on that

james: im quoting you

pandora to barty: can you stop talking about sperm so i can do my tarot reading?

remus: this might be rock bottom

peter: the thing about rock bottom is you can only go up

remus: we dont know, i have a shovel

peter deadpanning: have you ever even BEEN on minecraft?

sirius: i cant tell if im having a crisis or i just need to wash my hair

peter: furry

sirius: furry

james: furry

remus, defeated: why is this the joke we all roll with?

evan: i was regulus-ing too close to the sun trying to put my emotions in boxes

james, to sirius: the trauma is bouncing around in your head like the dvd logo and only when it hits a corner do you get a second of peace

sirius: I wish I could date myself I would treat me so well

james: I think you just stumbled upon self love

lily, scrolling on tinder: he’s cute

mary: is he?

lily: *swipes left*

James: I have brain freeze on the outside of my head

Regulus: that’s called being cold

sirius: im getting a lot of… brain things

remus: ideas?

remus: *looking smth up about worms, reading the suggested searches* “can paul atreides control worms?”

sirius: would you love me if i was paul atreides?

remus: no

sirius: would you love paul atreides if he was a worm?

remus: no

sirius: would you love a worm if it was paul atreides?

remus: i would have questions about HOW the worm became paul, but probably not

peter: is it… why was i thinking self harm? no wait… masturbation!

remus: what are you, catholic?

sirius: if i ever jump off a building just know it was bc i genuinely believed i could fly not because i wanted to kms

barty: on my deathbed can yall bring me a cup of gasoline? i wanna try that shit at least once

james: dang nabbit, or whatever the fuck white lame virgins say

regulus: i think you had a stroke out loud

james: that was just me doing math

trans reg complaining while doing hw: im just a girl

evan: nO?

sirius, about Minnie: she’s always three spots ahead in the cha cha line

james: she’s in the cha cha line meanwhile im doing the macarena

(playing battleship)

remus: I cant believe you blew up my ship and your response was “tehee”

peter: Top 10 things Adolf Hitler never said

(30 minutes later)

remus: (is losing at multiple board games) IM GOING TO KILL MYSELF! IM DONE- I AM SO DONE…

peter: Top 10 things Adolf Hitler has said

dorcas: evan is emotionally unstable but mature

regulus: one usually leads to the other

dorcas: nah barty is emotionally unstable AND immature

regulus: i said usually

mary: their lives are gonna go up in flames and im gonna sit there watching and tanning

lily: can you tan from fire?

mary: for sure

marlene: do you think people tanned at the salem witch trials?

peter and sirius: *debating*

remus: what did i just walk in on?

sirius: can animagus fuck?

remus: excuse me?

peter: we think yes

remus:… I think it makes sense

sirius: now here’s the real question, if James and Lily-

remus: no.

james: what if i dated regulus just to watch the world burn

remus: the world wouldn’t burn, you would, and sirius would be holding the lighter

sirius, ranting about remus drama: and then this happened and I have never been more distraught… thats a lie i was abused but still

peter, after making 18 your mum jokes: that’s what your mom said

sirius: stop i can only take so much

peter: she said that too!

pandora: im chilling, i could be a budah

regulus: i don’t think you’re chilling i think you’re disassociating

pandora: im budah

remus, ranting drunk: because my parents- my parents pfft i only have one

dorcas: am i being manipulative?

barty: no, I would be doing the same thing

dorcas: that’s not as comforting as you think it is

regulus: Hey google how to find a man that will edge me for hours, no borax or glue

james: i mean i have adhd i could probably do that

sirius, about reg: he’s not even fun anyway

james: siri… he gets abused

sirius: dont we all

peter: i think the bible is a mass hallucination, kinda like the bee movie

pandora: yk how when you buy things in bulk its cheaper? maybe we can get therapy in bulk for all 5 of us

regulus about sirius after he leaves Grimmauld: Bro acts like a Disney kid who just broke the contract

regulus: so, cannibalism as a metaphor, right—

remus: go to bed

sirius: to speak or to die? speak duh, im probably gonna die bc of what I said anyway

regulus: i had a great childhood…

sirius: *side eye*

regulus: you guys are making me age so fast

barty: we are helping you mature!

regulus: barty i get abused, i’ve been mature since i was 10

pandora: *after 10 seconds of silence* beAutiful

regulus: YOU CANNOT SAY BEAUTIFUL TO ME BEING ABUSED

pandora: im gonna be honest i zoned out

marlene: *calls*

lily: *picks up*

marlene: im gonna destroy my hair i thought you’d want front row seats

mary: a mosquito could bite my clit and i would let it

lily: mary what the fuck

alice laughing maniacally: lets actually think of the logistics here

[thorraborinn]

Would it possible at all for you to point me in the direction of how to translate elder futhark runes ie: “Thor, Protector of Humanity”. I’m entertaining the idea of woodburning Norse art.

lol you're gonna hate this. Nobody asks me shit like this anymore so I'm gonna take it too seriously.

Really the answer is "no." I can try to do it for you but I don't think it makes sense for me to say "learn Proto-Norse" and hope for the best. Learning how to do this is a lot more difficult than learning Old Norse or Old English (and tbh "learn ON or OE or OHG" is the actual advice I'd give here). I know you're asking about doing this in general, and not for that phrase in particular, but you happened to provide a good example so I'm going to try a translation and show all my work.

I did put together a very non-exhaustive list of sources on runes available here but honestly that will not get you far here. Turning Proto-Norse into runes is easy, it's the language part that's hard. I also made a big list of deity names in Elder Futhark. Apparently the font embedding broke so it looks like nonsense, and I'm not gonna fight with it now. But the bolded text in each entry can be transliterated into runes. I haven't looked at this in years, but did just update Thor to be more in line with what I have here. Also, don't trust Wikipedia or Wiktionary for this stuff, you can use them as a research tool but verify independently or just use them to find other sources.

If I were in your position, I would consider using Old Norse and the runes that wrote that. Völuspá even gives us a near parallel: Miðgarðs véurr, and one of many ways to write that might be ᚦᚢᚱ ᛬ ᛘᛁᚦᚴᛆᚱᚦᛋ ᛬ ᚢᛁᚢᚱ.

I should make sure sure you're asking what you want to be asking. I'm assuming you want to translate into language that was spoken when the Elder Futhark was used. Some people say "translate" when they mean the less-commonly-known-but-more-accurate "transliterate" (turn "abc" into "ᚨᛒᚲ"). Maybe you just want to go ᚦᛟᚱ ᛬ ᛈᚱᛟᛏᛖᚲᛏᛟᚱ ᛬ ᛟᚠ ᛬ ᚺᚢᛗᚨᚾᛁᛏᛁ and call it a day, and there's nothing wrong with that but you don't need my help for it so I'm guessing that isn't what you mean.

Anyway I'll give you my crack at a translation of the phrase you provided now in case you don't want to read the rest of this but the explanation is after the break:

*þonaraʀ warjaʀ *man(n)akunjas þonaraʀ warijaʀ manakunjas ᚦᛟᚾᚨᚱᚨᛉ ᛬ ᚹᚨᚱᛁᛃᚨᛉ ᛬ ᛗᚨᚾᚨᚲᚢᚾᛃᚨᛊ

(the i ~ ij thing is on purpose. word boundary markers optional)

Thor

There are some unclear phonological aspects of *þun?raz > Þórr. Haukur Þorgeirsson recently addressed this (this article is currently paywalled but for some reason the whole thing loaded just fine for me a few hours ago, not sure why), and I find his conclusions satisfactory, which complicates things. Haukur proposes an earlier *Þunurr but doesn't rule out *Þonarr (or earlier reflex of these). By Haukur's analysis the former is easier to resolve within Old Norse but the latter is more convenient with some other proposals already made, especially by comparative linguists. So we find ourselves with two proposals for the god's name in Elder Futhark-era language: ᚦᚢᚾᚢᚱᚨᛉ *þunuraʀ and ᚦᛟᚾᚨᚱᚨᛉ *þonaraʀ. I'm conditioned to favor *þonaraʀ, but I can't find fault in Haukur's preference for *þunuraʀ within the context of his own paper.

The only reason I'm not siding with it is that it seems impossible to resolve with Old High German donar and Old Saxon thunar (both 'thunder'; compare *eburaz > OHG/OS ebur, not **ebar). So while Haukur's got me convinced that *þunuraʀ seems like a more likely immediate precursor to Þórr, I can't shake *þonaraʀ being what seems to me, at least for now, a necessary precursor to the OHG especially. And for now, "seems necessary" beats "more likely." Of course variation is possible but that isn't a way to handwave conflicting data, it's a whole separate thing to investigate, and I haven't done that yet.

If I were researching something for myself, or for something permanent like a tattoo, I'd keep going and make sure I'm more confident. Even Haukur leaves open possibilities I haven't mentioned here. If nothing else, at least *þunraz no longer seems necessary to maintain (as Ringe 2014 thought following Noreen 1923).

Alternatively, one who does prefer *þunraz as the Proto-Germanic could probably be convinced to allow an epenthetic vowel for Elder Futhark-era language, so we're safe there.

I probably could have left all this out. *þonaraʀ is a fairly normal, mainstream way to reconstruct Þórr. But that wouldn't have been an accurate depiction of the situation. However we work this out, it highlights that what we're doing is not speaking/writing ancient, dead, unattested language. Or, if we are, it's only incidental to the primary thing we're doing, which is trying and sometimes failing to understand how attested words relate to each other, and taking sides in arguments about that.

protector

Selecting a word for 'protector' is difficult. It was only with some hesitation that I went with warjaʀ, a word only attested in compounded personal names like Landawar(i)jaʀ on the Tørvika A stone. It's highly likely to be derived from *warjan- 'to protect/defend.' What's a little weird, though, is that it seems to always be written warijaʀ, in apparent violation of Sievers' Law. I won't get into details here because this post is gonna be long enough as it is, but let it be known the word (and others -- the (i)ja thing recurs a bunch in the Elder corpus) is controversial and my preference for leaving it as it's attested would probably not be universal.

Snorri calls Thor verjandi Ásgarðs, Miðgarðs 'protector of Ásgarðr, Miðgarðr.' To be honest, this isn't the most common use of verjandi; usually it means 'defendant' in a trial, but we can get its meaning from context. We should stop to question whether it could have been used that way some 700 years before Snorri, and once we're satisfied that we can use it we run into trouble again with the non-phonological change of the suffix *-andz > -andi. The *-andz suffix is poorly attested in the Elder Futhark. We have the Tune stone's witada witanda-, but it's a compound word and doesn't give us the nominative ending. Then there's the Eggja stone's suwimąde swimmande and gąląnde galandi which are late enough to be basically fully Old Norse, and doesn't tell us much about earlier language. In Old Norse, these -andi words have the same endings as an n-stem in the singular, and maybe they did in Proto-Norse, but we don't have nominative (or even uncompounded in any case) forms from early enough to be sure. *warjandʀ or *warjanda? Or something else? If not for this, it's the word I'd probably use, and if we want to come as close as we can to technical dictionary accuracy, we'll have to be okay with a shot in the dark at the morphological state of the language.

Also derived from verja are vernd, verndari, vǫrn, vǫrðr. Both vernd and vǫrn mean roughly 'protection' and it makes more sense to say that Thor gives or provides them than that he is them. A vǫrðr is a guard or warden -- Heimdallr is definitely a vǫrðr but I'm not certain Thor is. Most likely, verndari is a later, Norse-era formation, which is unfortunate because it is the word I'd use if we were translating to Old Norse (might go a little bit something like ᚦᚢᚱ ᛬ ᚢᛆᚱ(ᚿ)ᛐᛆᚱᛁ ᛬ ᛘᚭᚿᚴᚢ(ᚿ)ᛋ).

In Old Norse there's also gæta. It isn't attested outside of North Germanic which means relying on internal reconstruction, which isn't great. Kroonen's (2013) *ganhatjan- makes sense and PN *gą̄tijaʀ does seem pretty reasonable as a reconstruction. Semantically, I'm not sure if it's a good fit, though I'm having trouble articulating why. Its meaning should be something like 'to watch, tend, take care of' and in most modern language is more like what Iðunn does with her apples, or what a shepherd does with their flock, than what Thor does with humans, but I don't know that we can be so precise with Proto-Norse and in either case I don't think it's wrong. Actually, perhaps gætir Miðgarðs would be a better way to put it (hint: gætir Miðgarðs < *gą̄tijaʀ miðjagarðas ᚷᚨᛏᛁᛃᚨᛉ ᛬ ᛗᛁᛞᛃᚨᚷᚨᚱᛞᚨᛊ).

The Norse word hlífa might be closer to what we're looking for, though it might only seem that way because we have little evidence to contradict it. In Norse it means 'to protect/defend/shelter (from something)' and works here, but its attestations in other Germanic languages are a little weak and don't inspire confidence in the semantics.

Given all this, I can't help but feel it's best to return to war(i)jaʀ. Though unattested outside of names, it presumably had an independent existence at some point, and is transparently derived from the verb *warjan- 'to defend.' And maybe most importantly, it is actual, attested language. This is a rare opportunity to forget about what I said at the end of the "Thor" section and connect to real language committed to real record by real people.

As an aside, véurr, mentioned way above, is probably etymologically equivalent to vé + warjaʀ, so *wīhawarjaʀ ᚹᛁᚺᚨᚹᚨᚱᛁᛃᚨᛉ.

humanity

We catch a break with 'humanity.' There are complications but they won't end up mattering. There are a few ways to say 'humanity' but they all start man(n)-; we can have our pick of -kin or -kind to end it but -kin is more common, which in PN is *kunja. But the 'man' words in early Germanic languages are a little weird. Sometimes it has one n, sometimes two; it's always two in Old Norse, but it's hard to say if that was true in elder runic language. Fortunately we can sidestep this: in most runes you only write a letter once, even if the sound is long. But to use a connecting vowel or not? Gothic has compounds in mana-, manna-, man-, and mann-. So *man(n)akunja or *man(n)kunja? Well, as Martin Syrett (1994) pounds out, Germanic in general and Gothic in particular are not consistent when it comes to stem vowels in compounds. There's a tendency to spread -a- as a connecting vowel even where it doesn't belong. So we should feel pretty safe that even if *man(n)akunja isn't the inherited form from Proto-Germanic, it was always a possibility. Finally, worst comes to worst, you could just let ᛗ stand for the whole word, given that it's the 'man' rune anyway.

Last, we'll have to put that in the genitive case to make it 'of mankind.' We don't have examples of neuter ja-stems in the genitive from the Elder Futhark but there isn't really strong reason to believe it wasn't *-jas, so: *kunjas.

We've arrived at my answer:

*þonaraʀ warjaʀ *man(n)akunjas þonaraʀ warijaʀ manakunjas ᚦᛟᚾᚨᚱᚨᛉ ᛬ ᚹᚨᚱᛁᛃᚨᛉ ᛬ ᛗᚨᚾᚨᚲᚢᚾᛃᚨᛊ

Anyway I hope you don't mind me going completely over the top answering this, I don't think I realized before starting to answer this that I needed to get it out of my system.

[gojodaily]

Ough...

I thought about Gojo too hard again and now I'm sad.

Liiiike

That one post that's like "Gojo coming back is only a happy ending for you, he's happy in his after life" and all the tags (I'm not mad at that post btw. Like. Again I'm just thinking about shit too hard)

I haven't read the manga cause I literally am not emotionally ready to see how my mans dies

But the thought that he only way he can be happy—

That his only happy ending is in death

That hurts. It makes my stomach churn.

I'm someone who struggles a lot with mental health, and I'm always telling myself "it'll get better, it always gets better"

But then like there's this post about how my comfort character dies, and that's the only way he can be happy, that death is his happy ending—

It makes me think things I don't wanna think. It brings up thoughts I keep trying to push down.

It makes me think maybe death could be my happy ending.

I feel nauseous.

(again. That's like. My own problem obviously. Not the post's fault. Idk I just thought I'd share my Gojo thoughts. Cause this is my Gojo blog and this is something that bothers me often)

[snazzydwarf]

TCF CHAPTER 137 - 138!

These chapters are great! I adore seeing Cale terrorize ARM members, them going from "haha! I'll just kill myself before anything can happen" then whoops! Fuck you, already know about that, you're my bitch now :)

Also this panel of Cale?

OKAY YEAH I WOULD ALSO BE SHITTING MYSELF, WTF CALE YOU LOOK DEMONIC AS HELL MY GUY! STOP STARING AT ME WITH YOUR WHITE PUPILS AND SCARY AURA OMG-

Then five seconds later there's so many cute pannels of Cale interacting with the elf kids

More under the cut! It's just a long post lol

I love Cale's indulgent smile to the Raon after he said yes to showing himself to the elf girl, even though internally he was like "yeah hell no"

He's a theater kid at heart, bro is putting his entire soul into his acting rn

Meanwhile Ron is like "Ah young master is at it again" while his son is contemplating when his loyalties lie haha

Choi Han is following the "nod and agree to whatever Cale-nim is doing" rule in his head.

GHDADS I CAN PICTURE THE "*gasp* He's just like you Human!!

And of course! I've forgotten to mention Cale scamming his hyung once again <3 We're so back babyyyy!!

(I was reading 138 while writing this, so 137 things weren't on my screen so this is last haha)

[justmochi]

finally decided to go back and read this and actually take my own advice.

i wrote this at a time where i hadn’t experienced a real earth shattering heartbreak. i wrote it with only assumptions i’ve seen my entire life. i’ve seen friends and family go through breakups, i’ve had shit hurled at me my entire life and so i tried to formulate it into something that i could understand. i thought if maybe i had taken all my sufferings and multiplied it by hundreds that i might be able to capture jenns pain.

i wrote this in 2020-2021 i think? but 4 years later and ive finally faced that earth shattering heartbreak i tried my best to convey and all i can really say is that i was pretty close with my intellect at the time, but i was still pretty far off.

talking about more serious things-

there have been nights i’ve wanted to die. nights i’ve drowned myself with all the alcohol i could handle. sometimes i wanted to numb the pain, and sometimes i just wanted it to end completely. when i look back on things, i know that the breakup was inevitable. even months prior he instilled such anxiety in me that i’d want to go out and drink with friends just to be able to approach the situation without coming off as a coward. but when things finally came to a peak, my first resort wasn’t even to drink, i had just wanted to die. it was so bad, im convinced that a part of me died that night. i honestly felt like i was losing the other half of me. there’s always gonna be a hole in me, never going to be filled, it may shrink and be healed little by little, but it’s always going to be there.

it’s been a rough past couple months. i’ve spent so much time going back and analyzing every past conversation we’ve had and get so sad. i’ve had countless dreams since then and they’re all bad. i didn’t think i’d be losing my soulmate in 2024. we had our future all planned out and talked about having grey hair together. i never imagined myself as someone who would be distrustful, but i’ve acquired trust issues. i keep my inner circle tiny now, it’s all i can really trust in at this point. i’ve taken up hobbies, such as reading (tbh nothing new but i read plenty more physical books than i have my entire life), i journal, cook and bake) play games and watch movies/shows just to keep my mind busy. it’s been hard but i’ve been doing my best to heal my mind and heart. healing is a journey and it’s hard, there’s no timeframe or one correct way to do it, but i’m figuring out what works for me. i had gotten to the point where i finally had to do right by myself, put myself first.

my dms are always open if you need to chat. treat yourself with love and care because you are the most important person in your life.

Kids talk about heartbreak with Jenn

pairing :: jenn x kids

word count :: 1.1k

synopsis :: jenn sits down to talk about her experience with heartbreak to kids.

warnings :: mentions of breakup, trouble eating and staying healthy, angst(?)

a/n :: based on odg’s channel. tbh this isn’t even just for kids if you’re going through a breakup, take jenn’s advice!!!

“Hi there,” Jenn smiled as a young boy came onto the set, sitting across from her at the table. He flashed her a shy grin, bowing his head.

“Hello.”

“What’s your name?”

“Hyunwoo.” He fiddled with his fingers under the table.

“Ahh, Hyunwoo? That’s such a handsome name.” She offered her hand, allowing him to shake hers. “My name is Jenn.”

“Jenn?” He raised his eyebrows.

Keep reading

[yuriko-44]

symbol of fear: main bnha dr !!

This is my main bnha dr!! I consider this to be a pretty personal desired reality because of the reasons I want to shift here.

This is probably the most intense reality I'm shifting to. In fact I've thought about it for literally 2 years before deciding to start scripting. This is the dr I'll talk about the most in my blog, so keep this in mind!!

The reason why I decided to start this blog, aside from helping me and hopefully others with motivation, was because I really wanted to talk about this dr. I needed a place where I could talk about it freely, but my notes app wasn't really doing it for me. So here I am!! And also who knows, maybe I'll find someone with a similar dr too!!

before reading: why do I want to shift to this dr? Where do I begin? Well, I absolutely hate this reality. Everything is going to shit and I really want out of here, plus I really don't like myself- but this could apply to my wr and other drs as well. So why this one in particular? In 2019, while I was making my first ever script, I immediately thought about a flawless world. Then, in 2020, I went on a 4 year shifting break. After two years, in 2022, I wasn't done with my break but I was trying to pick up shifting again. That's when I looked back at my script. Coming from an extremely flawed reality, the idea of shifting to that perfect world seemed…underwhelming. I'd feel like a coward, hiding away in a perfect world instead of fighting for a better life- I know there's nothing wrong with it, in fact my wr is some kind of perfect world, but it wouldn't be as gratifying as I'd like it to be. I absolutely hate the society I live in and I feel completely useless here. I want to go to a reality in which I serve a purpose and things actually get better. That would be a satisfying reality to go to.

So this is basically what this dr is about. A reality in which I serve a purpose, a reality in which actual justice will be served, a reality in which society at large will learn and grow from its mistakes, a reality where everyone will feel heard and have a chance at life. A reality in which the world will change into something beautiful and life will begin to feel like it's worth living, like it should.

But why bnha? Because not only I've been hyperfixating on it for an extremely long time and I'm really attached to it, but also because justice and society are really important topics in canon, so I was really drawn to it when I decided to script and go to a reality such as this.

summary of contents:

my dr self • plot and main events • important people • miscellaneous

last update: january 25th 2025

← previous [main wr] || next [???] →

my dr self

If you read everything until now, you're either thinking that I'm a pro-hero/hero student or you're doubting that because of the name I gave to this dr and the picture of Shigaraki at the start of this post. Well, here's the most 'controversial' part of my dr:

In this reality I'm not a hero. I'm a morally ambiguous villain.

And if you happen to have seen the post about my wr you might be wondering why I didn't put a picture of my dr self at the beginning of the post like I did in the other one.

I actually did. That's me. In this dr I'm Shigaraki Tomura.

A morally ambiguous villain that, at least in my dr, ends up actually doing something amazing.

→ “Moral ambiguity: a lack of certainty about whether something is right or wrong”

→ “Morally ambiguous refers to situations, characters, or actions that do not have clear ethical implications and can be interpreted in multiple ways.”

→ “Morally ambiguous characters can start off with good intentions and then be driven to evil by others or by society, or they can start off evil and come to redeem themselves. Alternatively, they can remain ambiguous and complex throughout the whole narrative, and leave the reader to make up their own mind about them.”

This is the most difficult part to explain about my dr, but I'm going to try my best to make it understandable:

I always find myself relating to Shigaraki in one way or another. If you knew me in real life, I'm sure you could kinda see the similarities.

When I first started to script this dr I tried countless times to basically make an original character to insert myself into the bnha universe. But it'd always, and I mean always, end up being really similar to Shigaraki, like some kind of bad rip-off- it was just uncanny, really. I'm one of those people who whenever they start hyperfixating on a series they attach themselves to one character...so this kinda explains it- but that aside, as I already said, I relate to Shigaraki, a lot. I'm genuinely not surprised I couldn't come up with something original in this case.

And then it just kinda…made sense- it made more sense for me to shift to a reality in which I'm him instead of trying to insert myself into the bnha universe being a cheap copy of him.

I really don't know how else to explain it, but it just feels right for me.

So yeah…Shigaraki Tomura from the Shigaraki Tomura series-

I don't have anything to say about my dr self, really. He's Shigaraki Tomura, that's it basically- according to my interpretation of the character, that is!!

plot and main events

When I first shift to this reality it'll be the 4th of April 2124, my 19th birthday. I'm still confused on when bnha is set canonically, I keep hearing it's in the present or an hypothetical future, so I picked future. In 2124 the class 1A students are going through their last year of middle school and in 2125 they'll be in the first year of UA and I'll turn 20. I decided to shift a year before canon events to kinda get used to a new reality- I know that once I get there it'll feel absolutely normal, because it is, but I'll do that anyway. Also because I don't want to shift and immediately be forced into utter chaos…and because I want to spend time with Kurogiri without worrying too much about being caught!! (since after the USJ Attack the public will know the LOV is a thing)- for context: he's not 100% like he is in canon, go to the "important people" section for more info!!

Everything will be like canon bnha, but there are some changes. For example the War Arc is almost completely different, consequently the Post-War is not even close to canon. The war will start like canon, but there will be no hero or villain deaths. After the war society will begin to change (in a good way) and me, the LOV and people like us will finally be able to actually have a chance at life. Does this mean there's zero criminal/villain activity? No, but it'll be significantly reduced and will be dealt with way better than it was before. There are other changes, but those aren't as important as the ones I already mentioned.

Another thing I feel like I have to mention is the fact that, as I said earlier, I'm an ambiguous villain who commits ambiguous actions. Although more than half of everything I do is not my fault (All For One), that doesn't mean that I won't be responsible for at least some of those actions. I'll be accountable for the acts that are exclusively my fault (so there's no proof of them deriving from All For One's influence- or maybe I just straight up admit it), but not for the ones that derive from All For One's manipulation and grooming. But neither me or anyone in the LOV will be given life in prison or a death sentence. We'll spend a lot of time in the hospital, unsurprisingly to absolutely no one- but not just any hospital, it'll be like a prison's hospital, so regular civilians aren't treated in the same building as us. After that we won't be immediately free, we'll probably be staying…somewhere under surveillance- I don't know- and then we'll be under probation and then finally we'll be completely free!! Is it realistic? Probably not for this reality, but that reality is different and society will undergo a massive change too, so it makes sense to me.

...also after all of this I'll be spending my life with the LOV and my s/o- me when I can find love as a ex-criminal in another reality and I can't pull anyone in the cr: 🤡

Once I shift to this dr I'll forget about what I've scripted and the plot (only when I'm in this dr- so when I'm in my wr or any other dr I'll remember everything)- EXCEPT: I shifted, I can't and won't die, I can't get traumatised in any way, it's going to end well, other safety things like that.

important people

I absolutely love everyone in the LOV, but I'm not going to talk about everyone or this would be an endless post. I'll talk about three people for now: the first is basically a family member, the second one is my future s/o (we'll be together after the war) and I can't wait for the third's slow and painful death.

Kurogiri !!

In my dr, Kurogiri isn't 100% like in canon, but he isn't too different either. In canon he basically lacks a mind of his own, bound to listen and obey All For One's commands and whatnot. He's a highly intelligent nomou, but that's just so he can better assist All For One and all. In my dr there's still a trace of that, but he's quite different.

In the early phases of 'testing', so not too long after he was created, a certain event took place that influenced his 'programming'. He began to progressively act less and less like some kind of machine and instead acted more like a normal person. But never in front of All For One (and heroes once canon events will begin in my dr). Not only because he wasn't completely independent and still couldn't disobey him, but also because there could've been consequences (he could've been 'reprogrammed', losing the progress he's made, or worse). All For One would've probably done something about it, but he noticed this once it was way too late.

Canonically Shigaraki has been staying with All For One since he was 5 and he's now 20, in my dr it's no different. And Shirakumo was killed when he was in his second year of UA, so he was probably around 17. If you consider Eraserhead's age, since they were in the same year, then this would make Kurogiri 30 years old, his age in my dr. If you do a little bit of math: when Kurogiri was killed at 17, I (and canon Shigaraki too) was 7, I was already with All For One. In my dr it didn't take too long to make Shirakumo into Kurogiri, it took around a year. We met when I was 8 and he was 18. So we've known each other for a really long time.

After the event that changed Kurogiri's programming, we began to properly bond. All For One couldn't just change or get rid of him, losing Kurogiri would have affected me greatly. That could've impacted his plans for me. So as long as Kurogiri 'doesn't do anything funny' he's free to stay the way he is. Little does All For One know that he'll continue to get more and more independent until, after the war, he'll be truly free to be himself.

We bonded especially when I was around 14, when All For One died to All Might (and then got revived by Garaki). Since All For One wasn't in the way, Kurogiri had a little bit more freedom and that was absolutely amazing!!

He's my older brother. The best older brother there is.

He took care of me, he taught me stuff, he gave me company, he listened to me, he made me feel better whenever I felt miserable and so much more. And he still does. He, alongside the LOV, is the main reason why I'm so determined to shift to this reality.

I've never shifted there before but I miss him greatly.

Spinner !!

I don't have a lot to say about Spinner actually. He'll be my best friend (I say 'will' because when I'll first shift there we won't know each other)…and my s/o after the war!! When I first started scripting this dr I wasn't thinking about having a s/o, it didn't really seem to fit. But as time passed I started feeling more attached to the people in my dr and whenever I found myself thinking about him…I don't know, scripting him as my s/o just felt right- everything in this script is based on a 'it feels right for me' feeling!!

So yeah: acquaintances to friends to lovers I guess LMAO!!

Also, a little fun fact: in the cr I have a necklace with a little gecko!! The base is silver and it's divided into 4 sections. In each one of those sections there's a (fake) flat gem. Also I got extremely lucky because on one side it's more green, on the opposite side it's more light blue and in the middle the two colours kinda mix together in a cool gradient. Me when green = Spinner and light blue = my dr self-

All For One. . .

Alright, what can I say about this man?- the term 'man' doesn't even suit him, this is a fucking monster- thank god I can script whatever I want and I scripted lots of things for safety!! Most of those safety things are related to this guy- they apply to everything, but mainly him and his actions.

I still have to register the fact that for a long time (until the war starts) I'll consider this man my ally- like- the one that saved me and shit- god damn-

Anyway-

PRAYING FOR HIS DOWNFALL🙏🏻‼️

Can't wait to kick his ass!!😘🥰😍

(I don't know what else to say actually-)

miscellaneous

...

[raqi-marr]

HDG How-To: Class-E xenodrugs in real life

A while ago, I wrote one of my first posts on this blog about the experience of trying to recreate class-H's in real life by doing LSD. This was generally very successful, and having done it several more times since then, I can confidently say that if you want to feel like you are getting the floret brainwashing experience, LSD is a very good drug to do it with.

However, I recently had an unexpected and unplanned-for experience which has given me quite a lot of insight into what being on class-E's would probably be like in real life. My first exposure to anything that could be described as similar was when I started duloxetine (an anti-anxiety SNRI medication) last year. I can't actually remember super well what life was like before that any more, but my recollection is that after going on it, I noticed myself having substantially less intrusive thoughts/being less inclined to doom spiral about stuff any time I was unoccupied for more than 10 seconds. The entire experience was more complicated than that and deserves its own post some time, but it is also kind of boring and not all that class-E pilled so let me get to the good shit now

Yesterday, I was privileged enough to get to actually try cuddling another human being for the first time in my life (I say privileged because lord knows how many of us long distance relationship mfs go years without physical touch.) As it turns out, this shit makes SNRIs look like fucking sugar pills in comparison, because by the everbloom I have never been so fucking chilled out in my life as after an hour of getting held and squeezed by my partner

I have a bunch of anxiety conditions and am generally known by all my friends as That One Bitch With No Chill, so you can imagine my shock when, in the aftermath of this, I sat down at my chair and prepared to start worrying about how many jobs I have that I need to go and finish and how I probably did a shit job cuddling with my partner, and found that my brain just didn't feel inclined to do any of that stuff at all. Not just 'uninclined', but straight up refused to do it after repeated prompting from a very confused me

The best way I could sum up the experience was like someone had reached into Raqi_Settings.txt and set "anxiety_enabled = true" to "= false". It just did not work any more. This immediately reminded me of a couple scenes I'd read in HDG where pov chars get put on class-E's and just can't do that any more, and I started wondering "okay so wtf is happening to me, why did an hour of physical contact put me on fucking plommy-tier drugs"

The answer, which I figured I would share with everyone else who might be similarly inexperienced with the Terran capacity to self-synthesize xenodrugs, is oxytocin! If you're anything like me, you probably read 'oxytocin' and go "oh yeah that's the hormone that makes you feel all lovey and dopey around people, right?" and think that's more of a class-C thing. Well: yes, but also, apparently no; as it turns out, it does more stuff than that! A friend linked me this article describing the anxiolytic effects of oxytocin:

I am not a chemist so I'll be real: I don't understand this shit beyond the abstract, but the abstract seems to be all one really needs to get the main point here; namely, that oxytocin - in addition to being a bonding hormone - also makes you less stressed. A lot less stressed, it seems like.

So in essence, it seems as if Terrans synthesize their own class-E's from prolonged intimate physical contact. This strikes me as having a lot of potential HDG-coded play uses, and so I'll briefly go over a few of them below:

You can, at least theoretically, probably force someone to get less anxious just by (it'd have to be non-stressful, presumably, or this wouldn't work) physically restraining them and then snuggling with them lots

Have someone who chronically worries about stuff, and can't be convinced to chill out? Just turn their own body against them and make it drug them into forcibly relaxing! There's a lot of potential for very hot play in having someone who is very anxious and usually refuses comfort from their friends just getting forced to snuggle for a while, and the fact that if they don't break out of it, their brain is going to make them calm down adds a very fun con-noncon aspect to it.

I noticed while experimenting that the sound of someone's breathing/heartbeat is in fact very hypnotic, and I found myself naturally synchronising my own breathing with my partner's. This is probably about as close to core cuddles as it's possible to get irl.

Since oxytocin is also a class-C, you can bully whoever you're doing this to about how you are also forcing them to love and trust you in the process!

i am a dumb bitch who doesn't know how to stop working, and the thought of being forced to chill the fuck out by both physical and chemical means is very hot

The last thing I can think to note is that the general sensory overwhelm of being in such close proximity to another person also had a very strong quieting effect on my ADHD; which in turn made falling into a trance state not only easier, but automatic without any encouragement (oh yeah also I'm autistic and ime the sensory from getting squished tight is Very Good). the takeaway here being that it would probably be very easy to hypnotise someone who was being little spoon i think

So yes! I have not yet had the chance to experiment further with this, but I may make a follow-up post when I've had more time to come up with additional ideas. In general I just really like the idea that, if you're anxious, you can just go "hi hello please hold and squish me for an hour" and your brain responds with "understandable; disengaging anxiety module for the next 16 hours". all the memes about terrans being designed for touching were true it seems

[ghstzzn]

first of all, WHAT THE FUCKKVKKKKK

second of all, hell yeah #needthat

now let me be annoying and quote every line that had me convulsing in my bed because you are so articulate and i say this all the time but you need to release a book. i will be the first buyer.

“you started to hate the idea of perfection. You clawed at it like a noose wrapped around your pretty throat” every girl just fell to her fucking knees reading this line like aside from the fic…… you cooked with this line and 14 yr old me would bow down to you for this one.

“You’d be upset and worried, yes, but he didn’t have to hide it from you. You would understand his dedication to his craft.” its the way perfectionism is so carved into reader that she also see’s sunghoon as some being that can’t do any wrong either. LIKE GIRL THE SIGNS ARE THERE !!!!!!! (shes so me!)

“It reminded you of the way people dissected animals, excited to see its insides and how the body worked. Just beneath it you saw his intensely desperate, fiery hot need for you.” sunghoon seeing love making mostly as a way for him to memorize every detail of your body so he can perfectly carve you out into a perfect doll like oh my GOD oh my god. im geeking right now. being so obsessed and devoted to you please KILL MEEEE.

“It was the only time he liked you to be messy, when you were laying in a heap of doll parts beneath him.” i almost passed out reading this line. that’s all. if you get it then you get it.

‘“I want to take you apart, carve into you like I do my dolls, but this time make something real. Have you be so perfect forever.” His voice was almost scarily plain, like he thought this over time and time again before.” well yes! because he has girl!

“Pretty dolls don’t cry.” JUST STARTED CHOKING MYSELF WITH MY OWN HANDS

“Without Sunghoon around, the idea of perfection was bitter on your tongue—acidic in your chest. But, when your beloved husband was around, finally in your arms again, you understood why people strive for it. You love it.” AND I LOVE MANIPULATION!!!!!!!!!

“You, above anything else, above everything else. A peek inside my mind and how the only thing in there is you.” of course i still love you babe! its just the way you yearn to make me your very own life sized doll just threw me off a little!

“His eyes were watery, like if you didn’t believe him he might cry as well, and he looked at you over the rim of his wire-framed glasses that slipped down his nose bridge.” pretty boys cry

i love the way you had reader going back and forth in her thoughts about hating the life she was living to it be the only thing she had and refused to live without it. like it shows how well sunghoon was molding her to be perfectly fit before actually making her into a doll like WOW. manipulation at its finest, you don’t even know until its pointed out.

even at the end she looks for sunghoon for answers. when she follows him with ease into the room. when he quotes that its as if she were made for him. like holy shit he molded her with his bare hands and i love it.

all in all, #needthat, this was so good i love crazy desperate men and if you dont then yall stay safe out there. this was for the freaks !! i got teased heavily with this fic and the wait was so worth clawing at my skin every time kipo sent me a screenshot.

THE DOLLMAKER ˒˒ 박성훈 ▸  𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲!

you were sunghoon’s muse, his flawless, perfect wife that he dresses in frilly dresses and makes sure you always looked like the idealized woman. that much was evident from all the dolls he made of you that sat proudly throughout your home. but, when sunghoon isn’t there, the dolls move and show you things that would otherwise be hidden in the shadows. one day, they show you something so frightening, something completely sinister that you force yourself to believe that it isn’t real. your beloved husband wouldn’t do something like that, would he? you weren’t so sure about your answer anymore.

pairing ⸝⸝ park sunghoon 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦!

genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ established relationship, angsty & mature themes, smut, some fluff, husband & dollmaker!sunghoon, gothic vibes, supernatural elements

warnings ⸝⸝ dark content, heavy dubcon, dollification, mentions of murder and kidnapping, really creepy dolls, sunghoon is actually insane lmao, heavy gaslighting, possessiveness, unprotected sex, soft dom!sunghoon, heavy body worship, slow sex to rough sex and back to soft sex (you’ll see), manhandling, handjob, cumshots, clit stimulation, fingering, brief somnophilia, slight dacryphilia, mentions of oral (f. rec), praise, petnames (my love, darling, doll), hair pulling (m. rec), cockwarming, a lot of skinship, teasing, brief nipple play, mentions of aftercare, they are very very codependent, traditional marriage aspects

𝓴ipo’s note ⸝⸝ went a bit insane writing this because why is the smut scene alone 5.4k words??? but it’s finally here!! my first post on my new blog (that’s not part of a series) and my first darker content fic!! this was really fun to write and opened a primal lust within me for sunghoon that made me crazier… hehe enjoy loves!!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏  ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 14.8k ❩    ╱    ❨ 𝓶. list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

You always strived to be nothing short of perfect, and you were immensely proud at the fact that you have never strayed from the path of the idealized woman in the eyes of their beholder.

And you were perfect. The perfect person, the perfect woman, the perfect wife. It was what you were born and bred to be, and with a smile you lived your life knowing that not a single frizzy strand of hair was out of place nor was there a single wrinkle in your dress. You were pretty, pristine, perfect. You’d ask for nothing more.

But, as the days started to pass—and your husband was out later and later for work—you started to hate the idea of perfection. You clawed at it like a noose wrapped around your pretty throat. Gone were the days where you’d be set alight with how well you presented yourself—with how much your husband loved to stare at you. These days, you just wanted to be.

In the beginning, you loved to be under Sunghoon’s watchful eye. You loved how he’d dress you in perfectly fitting clothes suited to what he loved to see you in—frills and lace. Loved how he’d fluff your hair if it was too flat or if it wasn’t up to his standard, or smooth down the fabric of your dress. You loved when he treated you like his perfect little doll. It meant the world to you, especially when it came from such an expert dollmaker like your husband himself. In his eyes, it meant you were the best of the best, that no other doll that he has made could compare—his perfect creation.

Now, the more you think about it, the more your throat closes up. But, as much as you’re growing to hate the idea, you just can’t let go of the deeply rooted perfectionism you still strive for. It’s as if it’s embedded in your skin, as if it’s in the marrow of your bones and in the blood that pumps through your veins. You don’t know how to live a life that isn't perfect, and at this point, you’re too scared to find out what that life entails.

So you put on the dress Sunghoon lays out for you before work and you style your hair just the way he likes it—and you be perfect. Because that is all you know how to do.

You stare at yourself in the mirror in your bathroom, your brows knitted together. Confusion spread throughout your body as you tried to put a name to what you were feeling. Disgust, maybe? Hatred? You didn’t know. Sighing softly to yourself, you picked up your makeup brush and dusted more of the blush onto your cheeks.

Sunghoon had already left for work, so it didn’t even really matter what you looked like right now. You stepped out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. Dolls of various sizes greeted your sight. Some had intricate and realistic outfits, the same ones that you wore, and some of them were more plainly dressed. There were dolls everywhere in your home, even some perched on the open shelves of your kitchen. It was a little girl’s dream home. The most unsettling thing about all the dolls around you no matter where you turned was how much every single one of them resembled you in some way.

It was as if Sunghoon could never quite capture your likeness exactly. With some dolls, their eyes were too big, their lips were too small, or the arch of their brow wasn’t quite right. Sometimes he couldn’t accurately carve the curve of your nose. You knew it drove him mad, not being able to immortalize you in his craft.

“You’re too flawless,” Sunghoon had told you once. You were laying in bed together and the tips of his fingers trailed along your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He used to always give you goosebumps, the good ones. Now it feels more like a chill down your spine.

You stared up at him from your pillow and watched as his eyes devoured your frame. His fingers twitched, briefly stopping their descent back down your arm, and you could tell he had the urge to test his hand at making you again. “I don’t think I’m flawless,” you smile at him, “I’m just as flawed as everyone else—just as human.”

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked up to your face, specifically to your smile, like he was committing it all to memory. He moved the hand that was trialing your shoulder up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently caressed the soft skin before he grazed it along your lips. There was a certain glint in Sunghoon’s eyes that you knew all too well.

“You’re flawless to me,” he stated. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip and pulled it down a little. You watched as his pupils dilated and the mix of lust and fascination that swirled in them grew. Ever so slightly, his eyes widened, too. Sunghoon moved his thumb down to your chin before leaning down to press his lips to yours.

He captured them with a certain roughness—the type that always shocked you with how gentle it initially seemed. Sunghoon’s hand grabbed your chin harder, his fingers creating soft indents into your skin as he leaned your head back and further into the pillow.

You were so moldable for Sunghoon, a shiny lump of clay ready for his skilled hands to turn you into a masterpiece. He hummed into the kiss and his teeth delicately bit down into the flesh of your bottom lip, only enough to not leave a mark. You moaned into his mouth, your arms raising to wrap around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer. In response, Sunghoon pulled his lips away from yours. He pressed feather light kisses to your cheek and up to the shell of your ear. “You’re my muse,” he whispered, before his head dipped to the crook of your neck to leave kisses there too.

You suppose that being so perfect wasn’t so bad if it meant that Sunghoon couldn’t keep his hands off of you—if it meant that he couldn't keep his hands off of his tools to try and remake you over and over again. Perhaps you were viewing it all wrong. Maybe it wasn’t a noose around your throat, but a pretty handmade necklace crafted by his nimble fingers. If it meant that Sunghoon never leaves, then you could be as perfect as he wanted forever. If it meant that he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he ever laid his eyes on, then you would be his doll for as long as you lived.

Maybe it wasn’t perfectionism at all, but an act of complete devotion—an act of love.

Sunghoon left open-mouthed kisses along your chest and moved further and further down until the lace of your lingerie blocked his lips from your skin. He pulled away from you fully and looked down at it like he was offended. You squirmed beneath him, your chest heaving as you tried to take in any air that you possibly could. “Please,” you inhaled, looking up at him desperately.

You weren’t quite sure what you were begging for exactly; maybe for his lips to be back on your skin, or maybe for him to quell the heat radiating from your body. “Please,” you said again, your voice coming out quieter and more forlorn.

Sunghoon ran his hands underneath the sheer fabric at your stomach and you gasped at his touch. “So soft,” he sighed contently, hands trailing further up until they physically couldn’t anymore and were blocked by the lace at your breasts. His calloused hands were a stark contrast to your velvety skin and the slight roughness made you shiver.

He pushed the sheer fabric up your stomach with the movement of his hands until the bottom half of your body was completely bare under him. Sunghoon must’ve decided that he couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t bear to take the extra second to lift the lingerie over your head, because the harsh sound of fabric ripping filled your ears and the swift coldness of sudden exposure had you gasping again.

Sunghoon tossed the tattered fabric somewhere off to the side next to the two of you and in the corner of your eye you saw it fall to the floor below. His hands surged upwards, no longer bound by the restraints of your lingerie, and grabbed your breasts. Sunghoon’s thumbs rubbed against your hardened nipples and you arched your back off the mattress to give him more access. His hands dropped down to your thighs and he pushed them towards your stomach as he spread them further apart.

Sunghoon’s breath hitched when his eyes finally got a look at your glistening pussy, completely on display for him. His hand then moved from the back of your thigh and he dragged his fingers through your folds, collecting the slick on his fingertips. “Perfect,” Sunghoon breathed out.

Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. It’s what he did to you every night—left you in a heap before cleaning you off and making you new again. You didn’t care, you just liked the feeling of his hands on you, even if its intention was to destroy. You knew that it was just a morbid curiosity. As long as he remained by your side, you were content in being a pile of doll parts for him to play with as he pleased.

In your bedroom, your eyes landed on a doll that wasn’t there when you had stepped into the bathroom. It sat in the center of your bed, dressed in the same lingerie that Sunghoon had ripped up. It didn’t look at you, but at the entrance of the room, with the hint of a smile that you knew was carved into the doll but couldn’t help but feel was mocking.

No matter how often it happened, you’ll never get used to the fact that the dolls moved around on their own. It only happened when you were home alone. The dolls never dared to move when their maker was home, but you still felt their eyes on you nonetheless. You had told Sunghoon about it—the two of you even waited around to see if one of them would move, but they never did. It was extremely frustrating.

You sighed at the doll and straightened your back. Leaving said doll where it was without a word, you left your room to put a start to your day.

What you weren't expecting was even more moved dolls in your kitchen. You stopped in your tracks as different, mini, and almost identical versions of you stared directly at you from the kitchen table in a circle. Usually it was only one doll that moved here and there, but this many moved dolls in the span of minutes was completely odd. Cautiously, you stalked towards them to see what they were surrounding.

It was the TV remote. You scoffed.

You grabbed the remote with a roll of your eyes. Aiming it towards the tiny box TV in the kitchen, you clicked it on and placed the remote back down onto the table next to the dolls. You let whatever channel it was left on play in the background as you started making breakfast for yourself.

“We’re here with the mother of one of those young girls today. Can you tell us a little about your daughter, ma’am?” you heard the news reporter ask. You took a pan out from under the lower cabinet and placed it onto the stove, ticking on the heat. You watched as a flame ignited, quick and large as lightning, before calming to something smaller.

A grief stricken voice filled your ears next between your soft humming. You didn’t realize that it was the tune Sunghoon always hummed when working from home—something he didn’t do as often anymore. “She was the most beautiful girl in the world—the most gentle and kind. She loved everyone and she loved love. My daughter was the single spark in this bleak night. Please, if you know where she is, please let a mother know.”

You moved about the kitchen, ignoring the way the dolls’ eyes seemed to follow your every move. Cracking the egg, you let it fall into the pan with a sizzle, fanning away the sudden smoke that rises. “The news station also has an anonymous tip hotline open for anyone who may know any information. The search for the six missing girls is still on. This Friday, the mayor will hold another search party and encourages everyone who can to join.”

Turning to throw away the shell of the egg, you caught a glimpse of the TV. “This has been—” You gasped, the shell falling to the tile below with a soft crack as your hand flew to cover your mouth. On the small screen were the pictures of the six missing girls—six missing girls who all looked eerily alike to one another, eerily alike to you. You rushed forward towards the screen, desperately needing to get a closer look at the girls’ image.

Fear and panic prickled at your skin and clawed its way up your throat. What if you were next? What if whoever was taking these girls had their eye on you to take next? You glanced around the kitchen, the dolls suddenly gone from the kitchen table and perched back in their rightful places on various shelves. What if one day you stepped out of your home to run an errand only to be met with a cloth to your nose and mouth?

You began to tremble as you focused your attention back onto the TV. Did the police have anything on who was taking the girls? Any physical descriptions or perhaps a drawing? You waited for the news to mention anything else, but they didn’t. 

Lightheaded, you felt yourself begin to spiral. Your hands grabbed tight to the kitchen counter as you tried to steady yourself and not let the fear cloud your mind. Maybe it was all a coincidence. Maybe you just happened to look like those girls but the perpetrator was after someone else. You inhaled sharply, trying to swallow down the fear and panic and let the oxygen get through instead.

The sudden loud ringing of the smoke alarm startled you and made you jump. The eggs. They were still on the stove! “Oh!” you breathed as you hurriedly moved to turn off the stove. You accidentally stepped on the egg shell in the process. “Oh no,” you said softly under your breath as you moved from the stove to the trash can. You scraped off the burnt eggs, your appetite suddenly gone. You sat the pan in the sink for you to wash later.

Bending down, you meticulously picked up the pieces of egg shells on the floor to throw away as well. When you turned from the trash, there was a singular doll back on the kitchen counter. You jumped again.

It pointed towards the hallway to get to your living room, unblinking. You stared at it for a moment—at yourself. Why were the dolls doing this? “Fine,” you say, smoothing out your dress, “I’ll play along.” You need a distraction from the missing girls anyhow.

You left the kitchen and made your way down the hallway that the doll pointed to. As you slowly made your way down it, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary besides the way the various dolls’ eyes followed you. You make the bend to the end of the hallway and freeze.

At the end of the hallway was the displayed dollhouse that you didn’t touch. Sunghoon didn’t even let you clean it, opting to clean it himself. It meant a lot to him and he took great care for it to be in as pristine condition as possible. The dollhouse was a perfect replica of your home, down to the welcome sign you weaved on the front of the door. You’ve never even seen the inside of it… until now.

There was a crowd of dolls on the ground below it, more than you’ve ever seen moved before, pointing up at the scene portrayed in it. Swallowing thickly, you stepped further forward as a chill ran down your back.

In the dollhouse were only three dolls: one of you, one of Sunghoon, and one that you couldn’t even begin to understand what it could be. You took another cautious step forward, leaning in to get a better look and taking care to not step on any of the dolls. The scene depicted in the dollhouse was quite simple. You were upstairs in you and Sunghoon bedroom, asleep. Sunghoon was in some room you’ve never seen before, carving away at a doll that you could only assume was of you. Behind him was the other doll, covered in different, mismatched layers of fabric. It was so covered by copious amounts of fabric that it didn’t even seem to have the body of a doll anymore. It was almost grotesque looking, in a way.

Very quietly, almost indistinct, you heard the same melody Sunghoon hums when working. Your eyes widened in shock as you furiously tried to digest and decipher the scene. You shook your head a little. “I don’t understand,” you say, the confusion dripping from your voice. “What does this mean? What is that behind him?”

There was a creaking behind you and you swung around at the sound. More dolls were behind you, pointing. You weren’t sure if they were pointing at you or the dollhouse. Maybe it was both. You swung back around to the dollhouse when you heard something move.

Now Sunghoon was in front of the other fabric-covered doll. His doll was slightly bent at the torso and his head was tilted. The thin, wire-framed glasses he wears sat low on his nose bridge. You knew that look—that inspecting look. That morbid curiosity. It felt as if the dolls were screaming at you, “Do you understand now?” You still weren’t sure that you did. Too many puzzle pieces were missing from the board and it hindered you from seeing the whole picture. The sound of Sunghoon’s humming still filled your ears and you didn’t know what to do to stop it.

More creaking and you turned to look behind you. More dolls. They filled the entire hallway, their tiny fingers pointing at you, trying to force you to understand what they were trying to show you. Behind you, the dollhouse began to violently shake and you gasped as you looked at it. Sunghoon was now back in the bedroom with you. He stood over you, his hand hovering over your arm. You knew the action it was trying to convey—you could feel the tips of his fingers trailing up and down your actual arm now, making you shiver.

You stumbled backwards, even more confused and scared at the shaking dollhouse. The front of the dollhouse slammed shut, locking in the scene of you and Sunghoon inside, and stilled. Your chest rose and fell heavily and you clumsily stumbled your way out of the hallway and into the living room, avoiding any pointing doll that you could.

Later that day when Sunghoon came home from work, you didn’t mention the moving dolls or the dollhouse. It was as if nothing happened at all, every doll was where he placed them and the dollhouse was just as pristine as he left it. You especially didn’t dare mention the scenes depicted in the dollhouse. You feared your husband would think you were crazy.

You carried the plate of hot food to where Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table. “Eat up!” you smiled placing the plate in front of him before placing a chaste kiss to his cheek. You felt him smile before you pulled away. You were turning to make yourself a plate when Sunghoon grabbed your wrist to stop you. You jumped, a gasp slipping between your lips. Trying to cover it all up, you turned back to Sunghoon with a smile.

His own smile faltered and his thick brows drew together. “Thank you, darling…” he trailed, the words falling from his lips one by one. “What’s wrong? You’re never so jumpy.”

You’d been jumpy since he got home, still shaken from the morning’s encounter. It was so bad that you nearly burnt yourself on the stove while making dinner, suddenly startled by the sound of the front door opening and Sunghoon returning home from work. When he kissed you hello, his arms coming to wrap around you, you jumped then too. You tried to distract him with your smile, but you should’ve known that nothing gets past your husband.

“It’s nothing,” you say, smiling again and giving him a slight shake of your head. “I guess my body is just getting used to not being by itself now that you’re home.”

Sunghoon sighed and pulled you back towards him by your wrist. You let yourself be pulled into his lap. Sunghoon buried his head in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry,” he says, his words coming out muffled. “I know I've been working more and more lately and I haven’t had much time for you.”

You leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly. “Can’t you work from home?” you asked meekly, voice barely louder than a whisper, “Like you used to? You work so much and you’re always gone. I miss you when you’re not here, and in return I’m sad the whole day.”

Sunghoon’s black hair tickled you as he lifted his head to press his lips to your neck, right where the thumping of your heart could be felt. His eyes met yours and the gentle pout of your lips. “I don’t have all the tools here that I do at the shop,” Sunghoon responded. When you sighed again and looked away, he continued. “But, I might be able to work from here tomorrow… I already finished most of the workload. We can spend tomorrow together, what do you say to that?”

You glanced back at him, trying to not let the happiness you felt break through your sulky demeanor. Clearly, it didn’t work, because the smile returned back to Sunghoon’s face even larger this time. “I suppose that’s okay,” you grumbled, the smile tugging more at your lips by the second.

Sunghoon chuckled, “Yeah?” You nodded, giggling at the way he dragged his nose along your cheek and the coldness of his glasses. “I love that sound,” he says, holding you closer. “I want to hear it forever.” He pulled away from you just enough to get a good look at your flustered face. Sunghoon brought his lips to yours, capturing them in a sweet and slow kiss.

Giggling more into the kiss, you broke away from him with great effort. “Eat,” you say, standing to your feet. Sunghoon didn’t let you get far. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

“Your dinner smells amazing, my love, but I think I want something else on the menu,” Sunghoon replies. You swatted him with the kitchen towel hanging from the pocket of your apron, your mouth falling into an open-mouthed laugh. Sunghoon just laughed more. “Do what I said,” you scolded him.

Sunghoon pulled you down to chastely kiss your lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

That night as you were getting ready for bed, you gathered all the courage you had. As you moved about your bedroom, Sunghoon watched you from the bed, his eyes trailing your figure and never leaving it. He was lounged up against the bed frame, his head tilted and the wire frames of his glasses low on his nose bridge as he stared. You were in the middle of brushing your hair, trying your best not to get crushed underneath his heavy stare. You were as bare as you could be without taking your clothes off.

When you stood from your vanity, the flowy fabric of your short nightgown moving with you, you met his gaze. For a moment, neither of you spoke and you just stared at each other. “Those missing girls…” you started, finally finding your voice, “on the news… Isn’t it odd that they favor me?” Your voice shook slightly and you swallowed down the lump forming in your throat.

Sunghoon sat up straighter, his eyes still on you as his brows drew together. You looked away, shakily climbing into the bed next to him. “I-I mean… how they favor each other. And I favor them too, don’t you think?” you continue. You really hoped that you didn’t sound crazy. That your time alone in the house hasn’t started to drive you mad and see things that aren’t there—that aren’t true. Finally getting settled as the words poured from your mouth, you looked over to him. For a split second, his face was completely devoid of anything—no emotion, not even a quirk of his eyebrow, nothing. Then, in a blink of an eye, his face was how it was before you looked away from him. Maybe you were crazy after all.

“I’m scared, Sunghoon,” you said in the gentlest whisper, “What if I’m next?”

“Missing girls?” Sunghoon says, “I’ve heard about them. But, don’t worry—” he reached over to caress your cheek “—I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re safe here, with me.” His hand on your cheek trailed down to the crook of your neck and then to your shoulder before he pulled you towards him. The two of you laid down onto the bed and Sunghoon enveloped you completely in his arms. You rested your head on his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “No one but me will ever touch you,” Sunghoon muttered against your hair.

His comforting words did nothing to dispose of the uneasy feeling you still harbored. The images of those missing girls were burned into your mind and every time you tried to close your eyes and sleep, you saw them staring back at you. While Sunghoon fell fast asleep, him still keeping you protectively in his arms, you lied awake.

Your mind shifted from the missing girls, to the moving dolls, and to the dollhouse. What did it all mean? What were they trying to tell you? You went over the scenes portrayed over and over and over again and still didn’t get it. The answer seemed so close, but so far away at the same time. What were you missing?

You thought about the scene of Sunghoon standing over you while you slept. Did he always do that, stare at you like that? How often did he do it? You wanted to ask him, but you didn’t want to risk him thinking there was something wrong with you—didn’t want to risk him thinking that you weren’t flawless like he believes. And the way he trailed his fingers over the soft skin of your arm… Perhaps it was just him checking on you. Maybe he left the room for some water and when he came back he was making sure you were okay. Yeah, that sounded logical.

Him touching you wasn’t something new—he always touched you at any chance that he could. Always admiring every curve and plane of you completely, it’s normal for him to do so. The tension in your shoulders finally dissipated and you relaxed, snuggling more into Sunghoon as you let your tired eyes flutter closed. You didn’t know what the dolls’ game was, but you didn’t like it. Sunghoon was just being a good husband, is all. It even showed subconsciously in the way his hold on you tightened as you leaned into him. He loves you. He’d never do anything that came remotely close to hurting you, ever. You were more sure about that than you were sure about anything in the entire world.

Slowly, you began to drift off—your body getting heavier and heavier in his arms—and you let sleep overtake you.

A couple hours later, you were suddenly awoken by the sound of something falling onto the hardwood floor. You jumped, eyes flying open. You were met with the cold bed, Sunghoon nowhere to be found in your bedroom. Sitting up, you looked around the room to see what fell.

You sighed as your gaze landed on the doll, it was laying on its side on the ground, staring at you. “Enough,” you said lowly, another sigh pulling from deep within you. “I don’t know what you all want from me.”

The moonlight peeked into your bedroom through the curtains and gave a little light to see with in the dark. You slipped from the bed, deciding to see where Sunghoon was. Smoothing down your bedridden hair and wrinkly nightgown, you opened the door to your bedroom and was immediately met with another mini doll version of you waiting by the top of the stairs. You couldn’t keep doing this.

You passed the shelves on the wall filled with dolls of you and other trinkets as you made your way towards the stairs. You didn’t even give the doll a second look as you made your descent down them.

Sunghoon wasn’t in the kitchen either, but there was another doll there, pointing down the hall again. You tilted your head up at it and followed its directions. He wasn’t in the lounge room or the dining room either. You turned the corner in the hallway and your eyes landed on the closed dollhouse. It was backlit by the hallway sconce, the light making the dollhouse look illuminated.

You dipped into the living room and Sunghoon wasn’t there either. None of the bathrooms were occupied as well. You were convinced that he just wasn’t in the house at all. You stood in front of the dollhouse, annoyance coming off you like steam. Your arms were folded across your chest and you glared at it. It was closed this time, and you were deciding on whether it was not to play into the dolls’ game and open it or just go back to sleep and question Sunghoon in the morning. Alas, you were too curious for your own good.

You slowly opened the front of the dollhouse, expecting to see some confusing scene waiting for you inside. Instead, there was only one doll inside—the grotesque looking one covered in different scraps of fabric. It was in the same exact place that it was in earlier, except this time there was no doll of Sunghoon inspecting it. It was alone.

Taking a closer look, you tried to figure out where this mystery room supposedly was in your home. In the dollhouse, it was located between the living room and the hallway bathroom. You looked at the hallway you were currently standing in with its own mini dollhouse inside. Your brows knitted together in even more confusion. According to the dollhouse, the room should be right where you were standing.

That couldn’t be right, unless the room was in front of you and behind the wall where the dollhouse was displayed. Closing the front of the dollhouse, you moved closer to the wall, inspecting it. There was no outline of a suspected door, no uneven floorboards that could suggest the entrance was underneath you. There was only the hallway, the small bookshelf filled with your cookbooks and Sunghoon’s doll making books, and the dollhouse. You placed your ear against the wall; maybe if there was a room behind it you could hear something.

After a few moments, you almost gave up, deciding not to play the game anymore and just go to bed. But, right when you were about to lift your ear from the wall, you heard something—humming.

It was the same tune you hummed earlier, the same tune Sunghoon hums when working. The same tune Sunghoon hummed when the dolls showed you him working in the dollhouse. This time, you knew it was real. You stumbled backwards from the wall, your elbow knocking the doll over that was suddenly perched there. You gasped before quickly covering your mouth.

Frozen in fear, you swear you heard the humming abruptly stop. You then heard slight creaking, like someone was walking towards you. Scurrying back around the curve of the hallway, you peaked around it to see if anything else would happen.

What if Sunghoon wasn’t even in there. What if it was some stranger living in your walls, and you were just assuming that it was him—that the dolls thought it was him. Or, maybe they were trying to warn you of the stranger in a way that they knew you would listen. What if Sunghoon wasn’t in the house at all right now? Your hand pressed harder into the wall and you began to shake.

More creaking broke through the air, and you watched as the small bookshelf slowly began to push off the wall like a make-shift door. You ducked further behind the wall, just enough to ensure you weren’t seen. You saw a shadow dancing across the floor as the bookshelf slowly closed again.

You were so scared they could hear how fast your heart was beating. So sure that they could feel how hard you trembled through the floor. Hear your heavy breathing like a hawk listening for its prey.

The shadow got larger and you saw a figure start to be illuminated by the light on the wall. A hand reached from the shadows and towards the doll of you that had fallen over—Sunghoon’s hand. He stepped into the light and you could finally see him clearly; saw the way the warm light bounced off his skin, the way the light reflected off his glasses, and how his dark hair fell into his eyes. You pressed your fist to your mouth to keep quiet.

Why did Sunghoon have a secret room in the house? Why did he never tell you about it?

He fixed the doll; shifting its dress so it laid properly and flattened its messed up hair. You saw the corners of his mouth raise as he placed the doll back on the shelf above the dollhouse. It’s big eyes bored into you.

Without a sound, you made your way back to your bedroom as quickly as you could. You closed your bedroom door silently and slipped back into bed, willing your body to stop shaking and your breath to even out. You closed your eyes.

You tried to remember what the inside of the secret room looked like from the dollhouse. From what you could remember, it looked to be some sort of workshop, similar to the one Sunghoon would have at the shop. If it was just a simple place for him to carve dolls, why hide it? It was possible he kept it hidden so you wouldn’t worry about how much he was working. Sunghoon knew how much you disliked him getting obsessed with his work, always carving and shaping dolls until the tips of his fingers were scarred. You relaxed again.

You’d be upset and worried, yes, but he didn’t have to hide it from you. You would understand his dedication to his craft.

A couple moments later, you heard the door knob twist. As you heard Sunghoon’s footsteps near you, you hoped you looked like you were still asleep. His presence covered you like a blanket. Just before you could feel the heat of his fingertips on your skin, you turned to look at him.

With false sleepiness in your voice, you ask, “Why are you out of bed?”

Sunghoon smiled down at you, lightly shaking his head. His hand caressed your shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, my love. I was just getting a jumpstart on work so we could have more time together. Go back to sleep.” His voice was soft and gentle, like he was trying to lull you back to sleep with his voice alone.

You sat up more. “Well, I’m not tired anymore,” you say, a smile pulling at your lips. Sunghoon’s hand at your shoulder raised to smooth your hair before coming to your chin to lift it up. He leaned forward and delicately pressed a kiss to your lips. “No?” he asked in that same soft and gentle voice.

Sunghoon was already climbing on the bed and on top of you before finishing his question. He placed more delicate kisses around the edges of your mouth, his hands dipping lower. You shook your head. His hands slowly lifted your nightgown up your stomach. “You’re sure you aren’t tired anymore?” Sunghoon asked, the corner of his mouth raising ever so slightly. He was lifting the nightgown over your head so you were in nothing but your panties underneath him.

Light giggles left your mouth as you shook your head again, “Yes.”

Sunghoon’s fingers hooked underneath the hem of your panties and he slowly pulled them down your thighs. His eyes were completely focused on the way each tug revealed more and more of your cunt and how it glistened with the strips of moonlight coming through the window. You heard him exhale softly, like he couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. “Fuck…” he muttered lowly, “I don’t think I’ll ever get use to seeing this, and it’s all for me to admire.”

He fully pulled your panties off and tossed them somewhere to the side of the bed. Sunghoon spread your legs open and pushed them up towards your chest so he got an even clearer view—just like he always did before taking you apart. He moved his hands so they splayed out on the back of your thighs right near your pussy he was still admiring. You squirmed a little, the air suddenly cold on your skin and from laying there completely open for him as you waited. “Entirely,” you said hushed, looking up at him. His glasses reflected the moonlight and covered the look in his eyes. “It will always be all for you—I’ll always be all, entirely yours.”

You gasped, body jolting when a thumb was pressed into your eager cunt. Sunghoon ran his thumb along your folds, collecting the gathering slick that was forming by the second. Bringing his other thumb to your cunt, he spread you apart even more, like he wanted to watch the arousal drip out of you himself. A soft whine left your lips. You were completely naked and under your husband’s watchful eye while Sunghoon was still completely dressed. He hasn’t even pulled his pajama pants down despite the way you saw him strain against the thin fabric.

“Is that so?” Sunghoon asked, his gaze finally flicking up to you. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards and you inhaled sharply when you finally saw that all too familiar dark look in his eyes. It reminded you of the way people dissected animals, excited to see its insides and how the body worked. Just beneath it you saw his intensely desperate, fiery hot need for you. The two expressions folded on top of each other over and over like an endless piece of paper, like he couldn’t decide what made him more excited. But, you knew which one would win tonight—which one always won.

You nodded slowly at his question. After all, no matter how bitter the idea of perfection tasted in your mouth, it was nothing compared to the sweetness of your husband’s love. It overshadowed everything, clouded your mind until you could think of nothing else. You lived for it, you’d do anything for it—to keep it. And Sunghoon, he loved you for it. So, the cycle continued until you forgot what the bitter aftertaste even belonged to.

Was it so wrong for you to love the suffocating attention he gave you once he wasn’t busy? Maybe. Maybe you should feel some shame for how obsessed you were with Sunghoon. But, at least you knew the feeling was mutual. If it weren’t, you wouldn’t be surrounded by a house full of dolls that looked nearly identical to you made all by his hands. Right? Doll making was a labor of love, and Sunghoon never shied away from showing you how much he loved you.

Sunghoon leaned over you. You felt his arms brush against your thighs as he pushed his soft pajama pants down. His face hovered over yours and you stared at him with big, doe eyes. His lips brushed against yours, pulling away slightly when you tried to chase them. Sunghoon tossed his pants and boxers to the side and you felt his cock slap against your thigh, sending a wave of arousal throughout your entire body. The entire time, Sunghoon’s eyes never left yours. “Like my own, personal little doll,” he continued, his voice low. “The real thing, not any of these flawed imitations. Complete perfection, and all under my hands to do with as I see fit.”

His lips captured yours in an unexpectedly rough, hungry kiss. He moved further over you until his body shadowed you. His hands were on either side of your head as he pinned you to the bed with his body, the kiss deepening and growing hungrier. Sunghoon pulled away from you, lips plumped and wet with saliva that still connected his lips to yours. He tenderly caressed your cheek and asked, “Do you know how much I love you?”

With his other hand, Sunghoon grabbed his cock so he could line himself up with your entrance. He quirked a thick eyebrow as he waited for your answer, eyes trailing the way your chest rose and fell heavily and your breasts pushed more against his own chest. “How much,” he continued, slowly slipping the tip of his cock inside you, “I’d do for you? How I’d do anything?” Your mouth fell open as your back arched slightly at the action. Sunghoon’s gaze returned to you, his hips halting once his thick tip was completely inside you. “Do you?” Sunghoon asked you once again, his heavy gaze weighing down on you.

Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. It’s what he couldn’t help but do to you every night. It was the only time he liked you to be messy, when you were laying in a heap of doll parts beneath him. He tried to be gentle with his curiosity, he really did, but it was as if something overtook him. That dark look in his eyes got bolder until he couldn’t hold himself back—until he just had to tear you apart. You used to be scared every time it happened, still not learning to expect it. You should be ashamed that you did let it happen. But, as time went on, you began to like being taken apart; began liking how each time you’d blink away the fog, you were more perfect in his eyes.

Nodding, you inhaled deeply. “I do,” you say quietly, meeting his swirling dark stare. “And I love you just as much. I’d do just as much.”

“No,” Sunghoon spoke plainly. You drew your brows together, confused. “The way I love you, it’s… cavernous. Deep and dark—pitch-black. There is no end, no beginning, it just is.” His hand trailed down to your chin. “It consumes me, my love for you. I can’t control it… I can’t control the things I’d do to ensure you’ll always love me. And you will… won’t you? Always love me?” Sunghoon asked, his eyes boring into yours.

“Yes,” you say meekly. Despite the way Sunghoon’s body blocked the little light in the room, you could still see the way he fought the darkness inside of him. “I’ll forever love you. There’s nothing that would ever change that, Sunghoon. I promise.”

Sunghoon’s body relaxed over you, and his eyes briefly fluttered shut as he shakily breathed in to further calm himself. “Good…” he muttered, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear despite him being so close. “Because sometimes… The thought of you no longer loving me… i-it drives me completely insane.” His grip on your chin tightened and he bent down to sloppily kiss your lips. Sunghoon’s lips slowly worked against yours, like he was using you to calm himself even more. Like he was basking in your love for him like you did with his love for you.

He pulled away, just enough that with each word from his mouth, his lips brushed against yours. “It makes me want to rip you limb from limb. Polish all the parts so you can see it—see how much my love for you breaks me apart.” With a harsh thrust, Sunghoon pushed himself into you completely. You cried out, the sound being muffled by his lips so close to yours. Your nails dug into his shoulders at the action. Sunghoon pulled out of you until just the fat tip of his cock remained inside. With each word, he thrusted into you. “My sweet love, my perfect wife, my doll.”

Loud gasps rang from your mouth and Sunghoon took your hands from his shoulders and pinned them above your head with one of his own. His eyes never once left yours. He wanted to see how you cracked and shattered beneath him. He wanted to witness it. Sunghoon trailed his other hand down the side of your face, his thumb running over the soft skin of your cheek before it moved closer to your mouth. His eyes shined when he dipped his thumb into your mouth and you eagerly swirled your tongue around it, his own mouth opening. Sunghoon’s pace slowed as if he was remembering himself. The languid strokes drove you crazy and your hips lifted off the bed to gain more friction.

It was a constant back and forth of back to back harsh thrusts that felt like it was splitting you open to slow, sweet thrusts that had you begging for more. With your arms pinned about you, you couldn’t even really move besides the slight lift of your hips, and they could only lift so high with how close Sunghoon pressed himself into you. He had complete control over you; over how you moved, how deeply and at what pace you felt him, and over what sounds you made with his thumb in your mouth. Your eyes began to get glassy with how much you wanted him.

You guessed that you liked being used—liked being his toy, his plaything. You guessed that you liked feeling desired, feeling like his doll. You glanced around your bedroom, back arching and loud, unashamed moans falling from your lips at the way Sunghoon fucked you. It felt as if every single doll was looking at you, watching you. Watched you succumb to your husband and watched as the cracks in your porcelain body began to crumble. Watched how you loved every second of it. How wet it made you to the point that Sunghoon was slipping in and out of you with ease and how the vulgar gushing sounds bounced off the walls.

Sunghoon’s pace slowed and he watched how his cock slowly disappeared into you before he slowly pulled it back out and examined how it dripped with your arousal. A soft chuckle left his parted lips as he did it over and over. You clawed at his arm still holding yours above your head, a loud whine came from the bottom of your throat and your body shifted in any way that it could to feel him deeper, to have his cock drag against your walls faster.

He replaced his wet thumb with his mouth, completely silencing your moans and whines. Sunghoon’s mouth worked slowly against yours once again, soft groans vibrating against your lips as he kissed you.

“You feel so good,” Sunghoon whined, barely able to get his words out before his lips were back on yours. He let out another moan, his shallow strokes growing quicker. “Taking everything I give you so well, my love. It’s like your body was made for mine.” Sunghoon finally let go of your arms, giving your body some space as his lips traveled down to your chest. He left wet kisses all over it, teasingly kissing around your perked nipples while you dragged your hands through his hair and pulled at the tips of the strands. Everytime his lips touched your skin it felt like white-hot coals were being placed on you where they touched. Sunghoon looked up at you over the rim of his glasses, lips pressed to your skin with a hint of a smile. “Do you feel good, darling?”

Sunghoon’s hips picked up speed, just barely, but enough to make your head spin wildly. His pace was agonizing and you were sure your frustration showed in how you tugged harder at his hair and pulled his head back and the way your hips pathetically raised to meet his. Sunghoon’s mouth opened and he let out a laugh. “Please,” you begged him, your eyes filled with unfallen tears, “please.”

He sat up, lips brushing against your skin one last time before he pulled away. Sunghoon pushed down on your hips with his hands to stop them from moving, his own still continuing at that agonizing pace. “Please, what?” he asked, head tilted to the side as he watched you squirm beneath him and claw at the bedsheets. “What are you begging me to do to you?”

You whined when his hands moved up to your waist and sent tingles throughout your body. Through your blurry, tear-filled eyes you could see his smile. Pitiful moans escaped your mouth and your chest rose and fell so heavily you would’ve thought you weren’t breathing at all—instead trying to gasp in gulps of breath. “Please,” you begged again. Sunghoon inhaled sharply at the way you clenched down on him, at how your whiny moans filled his ears and the way the corners of your eyes flooded with tears. He halted his movements and pulled out of you completely.

“No, no, no!” you cried and leaned up to reach for him. He pushed you back down to the bed gently. Sunghoon’s own breathing picked up as his wet cock hovered over you. He took one of your hands in his and guided it towards it. “I’ll continue once you can tell me—” his breath hitched once your hand wrapped around his thick length “—what you want.” Sunghoon guided your hand up and down his cock slowly, his hand tightening on top of yours so you squeezed him more. His breath shuddered as he watched your hand work, his stomach tightening every time your hand squeezed his mushroom tip. He moaned again at how easily your hand slipped over him from your arousal, and his moans grew louder when he’d move his hips to force your hand back down his length again and again.

“Tell me…” he breathed out, his eyes fluttering closed, once you still didn’t give him an answer. Sunghoon’s hands laid flat against the back of your thighs—right next to where you needed him the most.

“I… I-I want you…” you stuttered out, voice small. Sunghoon hummed in question, bringing his thumb to your clit. He rubbed circles into it at the same speed he moved his hips. You gasped, back involuntarily arching off the bed. Your hand paused mid-stroke of his cock before his hips rutting against it stirred you back into action. “Closer…” Sunghoon says through a grunt, “but, I’m going to need more than that from you, my love. Don’t you want to be good for me and do what I asked?”

A soft whine left his lips when you squeezed a little too much at the base of his cock. “I want to hear those pretty moans of yours as I fuck you with my cock… see your pretty face as you cum around it. Won’t you give that to me? Do you really want to settle for my fingers tonight, darling?” Sunghoon continued.

How could you tell him what you really wanted? Explain the deepest desire that you had right now? He told you about his inner battle with how much his love for you consumes him. He told you the things that it made him want to do. You wanted him to let go and do it. You wanted him to wipe you clean so you watched it all—saw it all. Enough with holding back—like he tried to do every single night without fail. It was no use when you both knew what was coming. You wanted him to lose control. You wanted that swirling darkness in his eyes to take over. You wanted him to do what he said he wanted to do if you didn’t feel the same way he felt about you. How do you express that to him?

“Do it…” you say, your words coming out strained. A sweet moan left your mouth and you looked him dead in the eyes as the tears finally slid down your hot cheeks. “I w-want you… to do it.” Your voice was just above a whisper, loud enough that only his ears could hear your words despite being the only two people in the entire house. You squeezed down onto his thick cock more as your wrist worked harder. The hand he wasn’t using to rub circles into your puffy clit grabbed your thigh tighter, his fingers surely leaving indents into the plush skin. Sunghoon’s head hung lowly as he tore his gaze away from yours and went back to watching your hand.

Sunghoon plunged two fingers deep inside your dripping entrance and you felt like you could finally feel the oxygen reach your lungs. He pushed them in and out of you, his gaze flicking over to his movements instead of yours to relish in the way his fingers came back out more and more wet. As his fingers curled inside you, causing breathy moans to leave your willing lips, you watched the way his stomach tensed and his hips faltered. Without saying a word, you could tell what was running through his mind right now. You could see his eyes grow more and more darker, fill up more and more with desire. Sunghoon finally looked back up at you, his wire-framed glasses low on his nose bridge. “Do what?” he asks, his voice just as quiet as yours was.

You didn’t have to say anything else. Sunghoon’s hips froze and his stomach tightened even more as a pretty moan ripped straight through him. His eyes fluttered shut, his fingering waned and you lifted your hips to chase his hand. Sunghoon’s warm cum shot all over your stomach and splattered up to your breasts in thick spurts. He let out another moan, this one dragging out from deep within him as his body finally relaxed. You helped him through it all—hand never stopping as he rode out his high and marked more of your stomach with his cum until you were painted a creamy white and he was completely empty.

His eyes blinked open and he looked down at how messy you were. Something in his demeanor shifted as his eyes grazed over you and you couldn’t tell what had changed until he looked at you. You inhaled sharply at his stare, your breathing picking up. His own chest still heaved from his recent release. Sunghoon took his wet fingers out from your cunt, taking a moment to drag them through your folds to spread your arousal even more, all while his eyes never left yours. Gone were the barriers that held him back, that darkness took him over full force.

Meek whimpers escaped your lips and you dug your nails into the bedsheet beneath you. “You like being my doll, don’t you?” Sunghoon asks. His voice was almost flat, and he was still speaking in that hushed tone. His expression was decidedly blank except for the subtle way his brows drew together. “Don’t you?” he asked a little louder when you didn’t answer him. His hands squeezed the back of your thighs and his fingers dug into the soft skin there. You timidly nodded, not daring to look away.

His hands relaxed and his thumbs brushed over where his fingers dug into you comfortingly, his eyes finally leaving yours. Sunghoon grabbed his cock and rubbed his flushed tip in between your folds, the wet sounds it made piercing the silent bedroom. “You know,” he starts, his voice no longer so low, “you really are truly flawless, doll. My muse…”

Sunghoon is already slipping back inside you before you can process the way his thick cock completely stretches you open. You cry out as more unshed tears fall from your eyes. He continues, “It angers me how much I can’t capture you fully. How none of these dolls can compare to the real thing—the real you. It makes me… so angry…”

He’s pulling back his hips as he speaks, the tip of his cock just barely leaving your pussy, before he roughly thrusts his cock back inside of you. Another loud moan emits from you and your vision blurs from more tears as your face gets hot. You could barely hear Sunghoon’s wry laugh over the sudden ringing in your ears.

Sunghoon’s pace is brutal, and you’re suddenly regretting whining so much about how slow he was once going. It gave you whiplash, how fast he fucked into you, and the only thing you could do to keep yourself grounded is tightly wrap your hands around his wrists at your hips. Your arms smeared and got sticky with his cum but you didn’t care. With each thrust, your body shook and pushed you further into the mattress. With your iron-clad grip on Sunghoon’s wrists, your tits pushed together and bounced in accordance with his hips against yours. Sunghoon was fucking you like he wanted to break you in half.

“S-Slo—” you tried to speak but was cut off by the waves of sudden pleasure hitting you one after the other. Sunghoon just shushed you, his hands pulling your hips towards his so you’d feel him deeper. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you couldn’t think about anything other than the way he was making you feel so, so good. You wanted to feel this way forever. Wanted him to stay lost so you never escaped this feeling of immense pleasure. Wanted him to use you to take out his anger at himself—at you—like you meant absolutely nothing, just a doll for him to handle and put back in its place.

You adore it, the way he makes you feel.

Such nasty sounds fill the air, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care about it. If anything, it turned you on more just how loud and demanding to be heard it was. With how much the sounds of the sex the two of you were having penetrated your ears, you would’ve thought that you’d be getting multiple noise complaints at any moment. You both definitely weren’t trying to be quiet in the slightest.

Between your moans, you heard Sunghoon speak. “I want to take you apart, carve into you like I do my dolls, but this time make something real. Have you be so perfect forever.” His voice was almost scarily plain, like he thought this over time and time again before. You blinked away tears and finally got a clear view of him and the way he stared down at you with a hint of a smile, head tilted as he watched you crack and begin to fall into yourself. “Forever my perfect little doll, to bend—” he pushed your knees closer to your chest so you were practically folded in half “—and to break—” he roughly thrusted into you once more, his hint of a smile growing into a smirk as you clenched down on him “—and to put back together and play with as I please.”

“Sunghoon,” you sobbed as your stomach tightened and you started to shake. You didn’t get the chance to get another word out before you were violently orgasming, your cum pouring out of you and leaving a white ring around the base of Sunghoon’s cock as he roughly fucked it back into you. Wet, gushing sounds came from his cock plowing into your pussy and your cum poured out from around him and down the curve of your ass. You could scream at the sudden overstimulation.

“That’s my girl,” Sunghoon says as he watched you shatter. He used your hands still limply wrapped around his wrists to pull you up off the bed and halfway into his lap, his cock still buried within you. One of his hands supported your back and the other came to wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Pretty dolls don’t cry.”

Sunghoon brought your hands to his shoulders and you held tightly onto the soft fabric of his shirt. His own hands dragged down the expanse of your stomach and he wrapped one of his arms around your back. Sunghoon lowered his head so he could look you in your eyes, his free hand lifting your chin to raise your head more. “I love you,” he murmured, pausing a beat to make sure you heard him, before roughly moving his lips against yours and cutting off one of your watery whines.

Your hands moved from Sunghoon’s shoulders to wrap around his neck and pull him closer to you. You deepened the kiss, letting Sunghoon open your mouth so his tongue could slip in and dance with yours. You’d give anything to keep his lips on yours forever.

Sunghoon began to thrust into you again, his hips moving slow at first before they rapidly picked up pace. You moaned against his lips, your eyes squeezing shut. You felt Sunghoon’s lips pull into a smile, “I love you so much.” He said it like it was a confession.

Head falling into the crook of his neck, you cling to him tighter with your last remaining strength and whimper into his warm skin. Your body shook all over until it felt like you might explode. It felt like Sunghoon kept repeatedly turning and turning the winding key in your back, going way beyond the motor’s limitations. It made you nervous for when he would let go and you would burst into action.

His deep moans and grunts rang in your ear and his arm around your back tightened. With his other hand, he pulled you back so he could look at you. Your face was tear-streaked, splotchy with drying tears and you tried to not cry even more. Your brows were knitted together from the overstimulation and whimpers fell from your lips. Sunghoon’s cum stuck to your stomach and your forearms and parts of his shirt, your own cum covered your pussy and Sunghoon’s cock. You were a mess.

Over and over, three words came from Sunghoon’s lips like a mantra as he filled you up with his cum to the brim and past that too. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I—”

Finally, silence rang through the air besides both of your heavy breathing. After another moment, your body finally stilled. The silence was so thick that you felt like you couldn’t move at all. Delicately, like he held the shards of you in his hands, Sunghoon laid you back down onto the bed. He pressed feather-light kisses to your jaw and cheeks before they finally landed on your lips.

You were so overwhelmed with emotions and feelings that you couldn’t feel anything at all. Your head was still foggy and your only penetrating thoughts swirled around him. Despite your eyes being wide open, your vision was cloudy.

Sunghoon kissed you again. “Stay here,” he says, pushing away from you. Your arms fell to your sides limply. He leaned back and pulled his cock out of you, eyes shining with adoration at the way yours and his mixed cum spilled out and dirtied the bedsheets. Sunghoon rubbed the tip of his cock through it a couple times, ignoring how you squirmed and whined. “Absolute perfection,” he said under his breath before standing to his feet.

You laid there on the bed, still spread open and a mess of cum, as your eyes went in and out of focus. When the clouds in your vision did part, all you saw were all of the dolls and how they stared at you. Sunghoon came back a couple moments later, his face coming into focus as the moonlight bounced off his glasses. He climbed over you and began cleaning you up.

You were barely aware of the way he meticulously made sure every nook and cranny was polished nor how he moved you to put new bedsheets on the bed. Your mind didn’t start to come back to you until he was pulling you over him and sitting you onto his cock. You came alive at his hands trailing the expanse of your body before landing on your hips. You moaned quietly, your gaze dripping to look down at him. The darkness in his eyes was not quite all the way gone.

Sunghoon brought you down to lay on his chest. “I could fuck you all night…” he trails and his voice vibrates throughout your whole body as he shallowly thrusts up into you, “and into the morning, too.” His hips stilled and instead his fingers caressed your back. “But then we wouldn’t have the full day together, would we, my love?”

You shook your head slightly and Sunghoon wrapped an arm possessively over you before pulling the blankets overtop of you both, his other arm caging you against him completely. As the moonlight filtered through the window of your bedroom, the two of you slowly fell asleep.

In the morning, you were awoken by kisses on your neck and your pussy fluttering around Sunghoon’s slow strokes. He lifted your leg into the air and you turned your body towards the warmth at your back, blinking away sleep. You hummed, a soft whine pulling from your throat as you looked at him.

His glasses were off, which let you know that it hadn’t been long since he woke up himself. Sunghoon leaned down to press his lips to yours, his cock still dragging at a snail’s pace against your walls. “Are you sore?” he asks, pulling away from your lips to kiss your shoulder.

You nodded. Him still inside you, lazily fucking into you felt good, but you couldn’t ignore the way he stretched you open and the deep soreness that came from it. “A little,” you say.

Sunghoon turned you onto your back so you laid beneath him and he pulled out of you completely. “I’m sorry, my love,” he says and his lips meet yours again. “Let me make you feel better.”

He kissed your lips once more and started trailing kisses down to your jaw and along the length of your neck. Sunghoon looked up at you through the strands of his black hair, kissing lower down your body to your breasts, his hands massaging them as he kissed at your perked nipples. Soft moans left you at his touch.

His kisses spread to your stomach, to your hips, and finally right above where you were already wet for him. He spread your legs open more. “I’ll be gentle,” Sunghoon says, placing a kiss to your clit before his tongue poked out to lap at your entrance.

Without Sunghoon around, the idea of perfection was bitter on your tongue—acidic in your chest. But, when your beloved husband was around, finally in your arms again, you understood why people strive for it. You love it.

If perfection was how Sunghoon saw you, then you’d forever be the most absolutely perfect person, woman, wife you could be.

Days pass and you are once again left alone in the vastness of your home. Sunghoon stood true to his word as best as he could, spending as much time with you when he didn’t have to work, but it still wasn’t enough. The house still felt empty, and the occasional early nights when he would come home didn’t help.

It felt like the early nights home he took came at a price. Most nights when he would finally walk through the front door, you were already asleep or close to it. He would wake you up with a kiss and a content sigh. It made your chest ache even more than it already did when he is away.

You were in the middle of washing the dishes, mind trailed off to someplace else as you idly let the sounds of the TV float around you. “The search for the six missing girls is still going strong. Police still has not found the perpetrator, but an interview earlier with the Chief says that they are very close to finding out who has taken these girls. Our anonymous tip hotline is still up and running for anyone who may have any valuable information on where these girls might be.”

The words brought you back to life, and you gasped quietly as you looked towards the tiny screen. You examined the bold numbers at the bottom of the screen. It reminded you of the secret room behind the dollhouse that you completely forgot about. You quickly finished the dishes, leaving them in the strainer to dry completely as you dried your wet hands.

Slowly, you took quiet steps towards the hallway where the dollhouse was displayed. You looked to the front door to ensure that it was still locked. Sunghoon could walk through it at any moment and you didn’t want him to know that you knew about his secret workshop before you had the chance to see what was inside.

You recalled the way the door to the room opened—the pushed opened small bookshelf that revealed the make-shift door. You tip-toed to the bookshelf, examining its sides and the books on it.

You didn’t really look at the books on the bookshelf besides your own cookbooks. Sunghoon’s doll making books were something you rarely touched, if at all. But, you took a hard look at those too, your fingers running over the spines. They all felt like books, the spines hard and sturdy, but something about them still felt off to you. You looked at Sunghoon’s books again, pulling each one out a little to take a peek at the covers.

In the middle of you pulling one of the books, you heard a quiet click and the bookshelf came loose from the wall. You took a step back, shock showing all over your face. Gently, you grabbed the side of the bookshelf and pulled.

The bookshelf creaked open and revealed an opening that you had to bend down a little to enter. When you stepped inside the surprisingly large room, your eyes did a sweep of what was inside. You froze, your stomach dropping as you stared at what was in front of you, absolutely horrified. You didn’t even really know what was in front of you… It looked like an amalgamation of various body parts, stitched and sewn into one. Its skin was weirdly shiny, almost like it was made of some kind of plastic or resin while still keeping its elasticity.

You disregarded the rest of the room, instead taking careful steps towards the strange creation in front of you. It didn’t look neither dead nor alive and that confused you even further—it barely looked human. Its eyes and lips were sewn shut and it was completely hairless. It was held up onto its feet by long strips of silk hanging from the ceiling that was tied around its naked body. Next to where it stood was a table with thick locks of hair tied with ribbons of your favorite color.

Maybe this was the final crack in your mind and it was crumbling completely, but it kind of looked like you too. Even the hair on the table matched yours perfectly. If you looked past all the stitches, the weird shiny skin, and the lack of hair, it almost seemed like you were looking in a mirror. It looked like an unfinished, life-sized doll of you. Your stomach turned in on itself.

The fear in you raised tenfold in you when it started to twitch. You took a couple steps back from it when it began to pull on its restraints a little. It seemed to start to panic and its shiny arms pulled at the restraints keeping it up even more as it tried to reach out to you. You jumped back more, fearful tears filling your eyes. Your mouth opened to speak, but no words would come out.

The uncanny creation tried to speak, though, before realizing that its mouth was sewn shut. When it began to frightfully hum—the sound off tune and terrifying—did your body start to feel heavy and limp. It pulled at its restraints with all the little strength it had as it reached out to you and began to hum wildly… it hummed Sunghoon’s melody, the one he hummed when he worked.

Realization hit you like a tsunami. Not only was you dear husband making dolls of you, but he was trying to make a real, life-sized human doll of you. And it seemed that every part of this surreal creation was taken from another until it resembled you as close as he could get it. Your mind flashed to those six missing girls—the six missing girls that all looked eerily similar to you. Despite having all the puzzle pieces right in front of you, your mind refused to see the whole picture.

You backed up further, the back of your thighs hitting the desk that was against the back wall near the make-shift door. You twisted towards it, chest heaving as you scanned the scattered papers and opened books. You picked up what looked to be a journal Sunghoon kept and read over the open page with trembling hands.

The entry remarked at how the experiment was working well and how none of the body parts were rejecting like they did before. He praises how the process was much smoother than last time, how the girls he chose were the perfect fit. The journal dropped from your hands.

Those girls going missing due to Sunghoon was no longer speculation. Your eyes snapped back to his “experiment.” It must be those poor girls, their bodies sewn into one to look like you. You still didn’t want to believe it.

Tears poured from your eyes as fear sunk its claws deep within you and forced its way down your throat and into your heart. Your entire world came crashing down around you and quiet sobs left your mouth as you fought against the idea that your husband wasn’t who he said he was—that he was a kidnapper, a killer.

You rushed forwards, your arms raised towards his creation before you wrapped them around yourself and remained a safe distance. “No!” you exclaimed as you rapidly shook your head. “No, this is all a misunderstanding—a mistake! Sunghoon wouldn’t do this… He isn’t that type of person!” You wiped at your eyes, almost believing your own words until you dropped your hands.

Dolls completely surrounded the peculiar creation—Sunghoon’s experiment. It was even more that the ones that surrounded you in the hallway when they were showing you the scene in the dollhouse. They all looked at you for a moment before slowly turning to look up at how the amalgamation of stolen girls thrashed towards you, still frantically humming.

The dollhouse.

It was a warning. Those scenes the dolls showed you… it was all a warning. This was what they were trying to tell you this entire time. This wasn’t just any ordinary experiment for Sunghoon, a dollmaker going completely mad in his craft—no. This experiment was for you. He was using these girls, tearing apart their bodies limb from limb and creating some freakish doll of them that was meant to be you. It was practice… He was doing all of this so he knew exactly what to do when he laid his tools down and cut into the real thing. You were next.

Sunghoon’s words rang in your ears and bounced around in your head: “I want to take you apart, carve into you like I do my dolls, but this time make something real. Have you be so perfect forever.” You finally understood it now.

Suddenly, all thrashing ceased and the humming finally abruptly stopped. The only thing that filled the silence was your muffled sobs. “I’m sorry,” you cried, unsure if it even heard you. “I’m so sorry.”

You stumbled towards the opening of the room and barely missed hitting your head on the way out. You didn’t even wait for the bookshelf to click back into place before rushing through the hallway and to the kitchen. For once in your entire life, you hoped that Sunghoon had a long night at work.

Nearly falling into the kitchen counter, you shakily grabbed the landline on the wall. Those bold numbers of the anonymous tip hotline flashed behind your eyes and you rushed to put in the numbers, putting the ringing phone to your ear. “This is the anonymous tip hotline for the six missing girls. Please only share useful tips that could help a breakthrough in the case. Do you have any information to share?”

Your breathing came out heavy and you tried to force the oxygen to reach your lungs, inhaling sharply as you tried to find your words. “I… I-I think my husband kidnapped those girls…” you breathed in a whisper. The woman on the other end of the line started talking, but your focus was abruptly taken when you heard another, more familiar voice behind you.

“Something scare you, darling?” Sunghoon asks, his voice gentle and filled with worry. You couldn’t tell if he was being genuine.

You jumped, pressing further into the kitchen counter as you spun in place, the phone leaving your ear. Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table, his thick brows knitted together. You didn’t even hear him come back home. Despite the landline being away from your ear, you still heard the woman on the other end asking you questions, frantically asking if you were still there. You were completely frozen.

Sunghoon rose to his feet and the stove light illuminated him. You saw him differently now. No longer was he your loving husband, he was something else. Still, you hated the way your heart soared when you locked eyes on him. How your body relaxed, even in the slightest. You hated how you felt complete now that he was here and how you wanted to run into his arms.

He crossed the short distance to you, his arms coming to rest against the counter on both sides of you. You inhaled shakily now that you and Sunghoon were face to face. Without his eyes leaving yours, Sunghoon took the phone from your quivering hand and hung it back up on the wall. His arm returned to its position next to you, completely caging you within his arms.

Sunghoon leaned his forehead against yours. “I thought I told you that you had nothing to be afraid of, not when I’m here.” His voice was still gentle—soft—and it was lowered as he moved one of his arms to take one of your shaky hands in his. You wanted to pull away from him and wrap your arms around him simultaneously. You felt exhausted.

You voice shook, “Y-You kidnapped those girls, didn’t you? Turned them into… into…” Sunghoon drew back to look at you, his head falling to the side as his brows pushed together. His confused look made you start to question if you had been imagining everything—the dolls, the dollhouse, the hidden room, the experiment. “Into… what?” Sunghoon asks.

“...Into me!” you exclaimed, more tears running down your already wet cheeks as you choked out a sob. Sunghoon’s hand tightened around yours. “You killed them… and who knows how many others! Am I next? Are you going to kill me too?”

Sunghoon let go of your hand so he could cup your face with both of his hands, his thumbs wiping underneath your eyes to get rid of the fallen tears. “They aren’t dead!” he says. “And I swear to you that I’ll never hurt you, my love. You know that. Think of them as… reborn.”

You started to tremble in his arms and tried to shift away from him, but Sunghoon wouldn’t let you go anywhere. “Is that what you’re going to do to me? Was all of this—” you gestured around the room at all the dolls of you sitting pretty on the various shelves around the kitchen “—just practice for the real thing?” you spat out. You tried to move again, but Sunghoon’s hands dropped from your face to your upper arms to keep you in place.

“No!” Sunghoon started, his voice coated in disbelief that you would even ask him that as he shook his head. “No… can’t you see? This—” he used a finger to motion around the kitchen at the dolls “—is a reflection of how much I love you. My devotion to you. You, above anything else, above everything else. A peek inside my mind and how the only thing in there is you.”

“A-And that experiment of yours—the missing girls? Behind the wall?” you asked.

“That… is my dedication to you—m-my oath.” Sunghoon was completely desperate. He pleaded with you, his eyes wide and begging you to believe his words. His eyes were watery, like if you didn’t believe him he might cry as well, and he looked at you over the rim of his wire-framed glasses that slipped down his nose bridge.

You didn’t know what to believe. Didn’t know what to say. You just wanted to go upstairs with Sunghoon and lay in your bed and forget about everything that you’ve witnessed as he held you close to his chest. It was all too much, and your resolve was starting to crack and shatter. You wanted to smooth down your wrinkled dress and fix your messy hair, but Sunghoon didn’t let you move a single inch in fear that you would run from him. You couldn’t tell which one of you was more terrified.

His hands slid down from your upper arms and down to your hands, grasping them so tight that it started to hurt. “Come… Come with me…” he trailed, gulping thickly. You stared at him with wide, frightful eyes, suddenly unwilling to move, but Sunghoon desperately pleaded with you. He looked like he was seconds from getting down onto his knees. “Please,” he begged, pulling you into him, as his voice cracked. “You know I’d never do anything ever to hurt you.”

Sunghoon took a step back, hoping that you would follow after him, and you did. You let him guide you down the hallway all the way to the bookshelf and into the room behind it, his grip on your hands never once loosening. He led you in front of the uncanny image of you that he created. “I know how it looks,” Sunghoon says, his voice hushed. “But there’s no pain, no sorrow, nothing.”

It didn’t try to reach out to you like it did earlier and all the dolls that once surrounded it were gone. It didn’t hum that out-of-tune, terrifying version of the melody Sunghoon hummed when he worked either. It just hung limply from its silk restraints. “It just is,” Sunghoon continued. “And when it’s fully done, and completely polished, it’ll be flawless.” He delicately took your chin and guided your head to the side so you looked at him. Your body finally stopped fighting against itself and you relaxed in his grasp. “Like you are.”

Sunghoon leaned forward, hesitantly pausing to look at you again before bringing his lips to meet yours. He pulled you into him, his body wrapping around yours, and you timidly invited him in.

His lips felt so good against yours, and you knew that once you parted for air you’ll miss the feeling of them forever until he kissed you again. It felt right—it felt like home. The home where the two of you were always together and he held you like he was holding you now—like he was afraid that if he let go he would lose you. That if he didn’t hold you like a delicate porcelain cup you would chip and crack and shatter. And you would.

When Sunghoon’s lips moved against yours like they did in this moment, everything fell into place. All your worries slid off your back and for a brief minute, it was just the two of you in the whole wide world. Nothing existed but him, and his body enveloped in yours, and his touch that made you burn. And the flames danced so beautifully for him, didn’t they?

Just when you were about to pull away to quell the heaviness in your lungs, you felt a sudden sharp pain in your neck. You hissed, breaking away from Sunghoon’s lips just barely. Sunghoon chased your lips, holding the back of your head and pulling you closer against his body as he kissed you harder.

You whimpered against his lips, your nails digging into his arms as you tried to free yourself from his vice-like grip. It was no use, Sunghoon was never going to let you go. You felt your body grow heavy in his arms and he had to hold you up. Your vision began to spot black and fray around the edges, and your ears rang terribly. Just before you passed out completely, and over the ringing of your ears, you heard Sunghoon’s muffled voice as he kissed your neck where the pain stemmed.

“I love you. I love you so much that it hurts, I truly do.”

You fade in and out of consciousness as time passes around you. Sometimes you see blurred glimpses of Sunghoon, sometimes it's just an array of colors until you black out again.

You aren’t sure how long it’s been when your eyes finally do open and you remain conscious for good. Blinking away the blurriness in your vision, you examine how you're laying on the couch in your living room. Your entire body aches and it feels stiff. Your head is pounding and you almost close your eyes again to ease the pain you feel. You notice how you’re in different clothes and there’s a blanket over top of you. Too late do you notice the figure in your peripheral, and your eyes shift to look at them.

Sunghoon hovers over you, his expression a chaotic mix of hopeful, relief, and worry as he stares down at you. He’s wearing different clothes too, and his hair is a complete mess, like he’s been running his hands through it, and his glasses almost slide completely off his face. “Are you here, my love?” Sunghoon asks quietly. His voice sounds slightly hoarse.

You give him a confused look, pushing the blanket off of you and crying out from the pain you feel as you try and sit up. Sunghoon rushes to your aid, tossing the blanket to the side without a single thought, and helps ease you to your feet. Your gaze drops to your legs as he helps you stand and you notice how weird they look—shiny. There’s slight indented lines at your knees, too. You look at your arms and they’re the same.

You look doll-like.

Once you’re steadily on your feet, Sunghoon moves a step back to take you all in. You notice how done up you are and when you carefully raise a stiff and sore arm to your hair you feel how it’s styled. Your gaze lands on Sunghoon’s face, his eyes meeting yours.

His eyes are shining—completely full of love and pride. You’ve only seen him look like this when he first came to you with one of the dolls he made that looked the most like you, and when the two of you are in bed and his fingers are gently caressing your skin as he admires you. But, it was even more intense than in those scenarios. Confusion clouds you and you wait for Sunghoon to say something, and he does. One singular word.

“Perfect.”

[ kipo’s note . . . ] would it be wrong to say how i absolutely #needthat #desperately… like hehe yes i’ll be your perfect doll for you forever and ever and ever (๑´ω`๑)

𖥦 ﴾ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 . . . 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ﴿ ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

🏷️﹙ 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @hyukascampfire @xylatox @ghstzzn @izzyy-stuff @sunoosgfv @jihyokat @whosserina @jellymochii @innocygnet @sumsumtingz @riribelle @yeoningz @minaateez @beombunni @jiryunn @lvrs-street2mmorrow @everythingvirgoes @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @fancypeacepersona @deobitifull @tinycatharsis @strawberryshoujosundae

© jjunbug - all rights reserved. do not repost on any social media or sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[mxtxfanatic]

Learning how to read mandarin, and oh y’all think I’m insufferable now? Lol

[vaguely-concerned]

the strength it must have taken for illario to not immediately go full 'lmao since when have you even had a kiss hello lucanis' sibling violence mode during the café talk. inspirational. rook and lucanis really were doing all that right in front of his salad huh

[welcometogrouchland]

(ID in alt) I literally said I was gonna post this month's ago and then never had the wherewithal to describe it and so I didn't Lmao (said with pain). But since I'm thinking of opening my commissions I figured I should remind ppl that I. Yknow. Can draw.

Lots of Steph here (I had major art block making all of these and my brain worms for her kept me going) + some sprinkles of stephcass for Cass nation to enjoy!