#but someone please draw this age and height difference

[mylonelylife135]

My Pathetic Family

Not a funny joke.

TW: Death, Introverted behaviors (Bruh-) Panic attack (Not from you!) Detailed descriptions of gore!

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Alfred was getting increasingly worried for you as each day passed by.

Ever since the incident with Master Dick, you stopped playing with your favorite stuffed plushies all together, did not do any more tea parties he would personally partake in, and avoided sitting on the floor.

Now all you did the majority of the time was watch TV in rooms that were often forgotten about.

It was not like you hadn't done anything else, but Alfred found it difficult to get you to the park due to your... fears about encountering Master Dick.

He did not blame you, and while he did have a duty to treat all those in Wayne Manor with respect he found himself almost getting frustrated with the young boy at times more than he would like to admit.

He knew that it wasn't good for you to be in the manor all the time doing nothing as a toddler your age.

He also knew that forcing you to go outside would not be good for you.

He tried, once. You clung to his legs so tightly and stared up at him with such sadness and fear that he swore he could feel his own heart stop at such an expression.

These last three months since the incident you have not set a foot outside the manor, and it seemed like with each day that passed your fear was slowly increasing.

He was seeing a three year old turning into a recluse at such a young age because of one accident. Was it, though?

It was heartbreaking.

Alfred didn't see a way you would improve without some sort of guidance.

So, he would turn to Bruce.

Of course, he was not of much help.

He found himself saddened at that he was no longer surprised at the lack of effort.

He just wondered, why?

... It didn't matter. Not right now when he could see that (____)'s mental state was worsening. He couldn't have any more arguments with someone he considered his son when his daughter was hurting.

It reminded him of Bruce when he was a child who had just lost her parents, in a way. He didn't fail Bruce. He wouldn't fail (____), either.

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"Master (____), I would like you to come with me to the living room." Alfred requested, his voice soft as he watched you stiffen up.

You were still scared of going outside.

He was going to change that.

He outstretched his hand towards you, kneeling down to your height and giving you a warm smile. "Please."

You hesitantly reached your hand out before putting it in Alfred's.

Alfred stood up, leaning down slightly as his hand was in yours, and he led you out of your room and down the long hallways.

You clutched Alfred's hand instinctively as he led you towards the living room, your eyes looking around warily and occasionally behind you as you were guided farther and farther away from your bedroom.

Alfred gently ushered you into the living room, shutting the door behind him.

"No more hiding in your room, (____). Let's try something new, okay?" He said softly as you glanced around; noticing some key differences in the room.

The table was pushed off to the side as well as the couch, creative a wide space in the middle of the room.

On the floor were sketch papers, markers, crayons, oil pastels, and colored pencils with a large variety of colors.

You glanced up at Alfred with a confused expression, as if asking what was the purpose of this.

"It's to draw, Master (____). You haven't... haven't been as happy active in anything for quite a while now." Alfred approached you, sitting down in front of the paper and art utensils and patting the spot next to him.

"Come. Let's draw together, (____)."

You sat down next to Alfred, sitting criss-cross and peering up at Alfred. "Why drawing?" You asked, watching as Alfred picked up a yellow crayon and slid a paper in front of you and himself.

"Because you have a bright mind, (____). You just haven't shown it yet." He responded, sliding a blue crayon towards you.

"Draw whatever you like. I think you'll enjoy it more than you think you will."

You picked up the blue crayon, looking down at the paper and thinking about what to draw.

What did you like? You used to like your stuffies, not as much anymore, though. You liked tea party's, but you stopped having those since...

You didn't want to keep thinking of him. You didn't want to see his face full of anger in your head again-

He's already haunted you enough in your dreams.

"I... I like dogs." You muttered, dragging the crayon you held in your dominant hand and dragging it slowly across the paper.

You made a line, then another, and another.

Alfred watched as you started drawing, a smile crossing his face as he began to draw alongside you. He preferred to draw a cat.

He would glance occasionally at your drawing, watching you draw with a concentrated expression and tongue sticking out.

After 10 minutes of comfortable silence, you let out an annoyed groan.

"This doesn't lok-look like a dog." You frowned, bringing up the paper for Alfred to see.

It was a dog with a square chest, four small lines that were supposed to be legs, a wavy line that was supposed to be its tail and a round circle with two dots for eyes and and a smile for its mouth. The dog did not have any ears.

Alfred raised an eyebrow, his lips pursing as he tried not to smile at the drawing of a dog that did not, in fact, look like a dog.

"Nonsense, (____). It looks like a dog to me." Alfred responded, biting his lip slightly as he tried not to laugh.

"You-You're lying, you're smiling!" You whined, pointing a finger at Alfred accusingly.

"I-I am not, Master (____)-" a smile crept on Alfred's face, covering his mouth with a hand as he looked away.

"Yes you are!"

Yes he was.

The living room was filled with fits of laughter and childish giggles as you and Alfred spent the afternoon drawing weird looking animals, stick figures of you and Alfred at the park, and big flowers that actually looked like flowers.

It was a start, but it filled with Alfred with hope that maybe you would get better.

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Alfred was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up as he took note that he had all his equipment for today's baked goods.

Measuring cups? Check. 2 large bowls? Check. Spatula? Check. Measuring spoons? Check. Muffin baking pan, baking cups, cooking spray...

While Alfred was making sure he had everything he needed, he couldn't help but notice small movements in the corner of his eye.

He turned around only to see your tiny hands grabbing at the edge of the table, up in your tippy toes in an attempt to climb onto it since the chairs were too big for you to sit on.

He would have to order smaller chairs later...

"Master (____), why are you trying to get on the table?" Alfred asked with a raised brow, his hands reaching down and picking you up by under your arms.

"I wanted to see!" You said, squirming in his grasp and trying to look over his shoulder to see what was so important that he was standing there in silence.

"I am making sure I have everything I need for blueberry muffins." Alfred explained, gesturing to the equipment as well as the ingredients he had on the kitchen counter.

"You're making muffins?" You asked, your big eyes staring up at him.

Alfred knew that look on your face, you wanted to eat the muffins once he was done making them.

He could see the way you kept looking at the equipment and ingredients on the table, a look of interest on your face.

Did you want to bake? Sensing a rare opportunity to teach you something new you seemed interested in, he quickly took it. "How about this, Master (____). If you help me make the blueberry muffins, I'll let you have some. How does that sound?" Alfred offered, setting you down gently on the tall chairs; bringing the ingredients and equipment to the table in favor of the table counter.

You nodded reluctantly, letting out a small huff. He couldn't keep those muffins from you!

"Here, can you spray oil in this baking tray? It's important that the muffins don't stick to top of the pan as they rise." Alfred explains, handing you a can of oil spray.

It seemed like an easier task than trying to get you to measure the flour, he was confident that your little arms wouldn't be able to hold up the bag of flour and you'd make a mess of the table.

Alfred carefully poured One and a half cups of flour into a measuring cup, he could hear you shaking the can vigorously and glanced over to see you spraying the oil into the muffin tray and around the top of it with both hands.

Relieved he made the correct choice, he focused on measuring the sugar next before he heard you shaking the can again and looked over to see you staring up at him with a mischiveous gleam.

Alfred didn't have time to question you before you sprayed him with oil.

Fortunately, he was wearing an apron that mostly took the brunt of the cooking oil. His right hand did have oil on it now, though.

He looked down at you as you let out a childish laugh, clutching the can of oil spray to your chest as you let out fits of laughter.

He wasn't very impressed, but it was hard for him to get mad. He hadn't seen you laugh like that in quite a while.

"That is enough of spraying from you, little one." He said firmly albeit without any real bite, gently taking the can away from your grasp.

He knew you didn't mean any real harm, it was just dumb kid's stuff.

he was glad you started becoming more playful and more willing to leave your bedroom.

He was happy you were improving.

You helped alfred whisk vegetable oil, eggs and milk together as well as lemon zest albeit with his steady hands keeping the bowl from slipping out of your grasp.

He would then add the mixutre to the flour, sugar as well as baking powder and salt, folding it in and then adding in the frozen blueberries.

He folded them in, making sure to not overmix the mixture and putting the mixture into the baking cups you had added into the muffin pan prior while you watched with curious eyes.

He would then put it into the oven and you cheered, clapping your hands together.

Alfred could feel his chest swell with affection, you deserved the world and so much more.

You ended up eating muffins with Alfred that day, they were tasty and you wanted to try baking again sometime.

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You colored in the lines of a coloring book as best as you could with a yellow marker, occasionally glancing up at the TV in the living room as you laid belly first on the fluffy carpet.

You had the remote right next to you.

You had turned on the TV and flipped through the channels before finding one that interested you, ballet.

You had seen ballet dancers on TV before, but you had recently gained an interest in them. The ballet dancers on TV were so beautiful, the women would twirl flawlessly and moved with such grace that shouldn't be possible but it was. It was an you wanted to do what they could do. They were special, and you wanted to be special, too.

You just... Were a bit scared to go to ballet classes right now, with other kids.

You wanted to ask Alfred if you could maybe have a private teacher or something. You didn't know how to interact with other kids and didn't want to get hurt again if you made them angry.

Shaking your head, your thoughts drifted to today.

Today was a special day, too.

It was your birthday. You were turning four years old today! You hadn't seen Alfred all day since you woke up, you hoped he was planning some sort of surprise.

Your attention from your drawing of the ballet dancers that looked more like stick figures than anything as the screen changed to some news channel.

You looked up at the screen, confusion in your eyes.

This hasn't happened before, ever.

What was the occasion? You could see a young news reporter in a white suit, he looked into the camera with terrified hazel eyes.

Or maybe who was behind it.

"Is this thing on? Harley, make sure it's on!" A voice yelled, you swore you could hear a "Yes, Puddin'!" in the background.

A man dressed in a purple suit with green hair and very, very pale skin sauntered up behind the table where the reporter was, clearing his throat "Hello, people of gotham! I know that not many of you yet have heard of me but trust me when I say, you will." The man spoke with confidence in his tone, puffing out his chest slightly.

He held a mallet in his hand, tossing it around in both hands occasionally like child's play and whistling.

He looked like a clown.

There was something wrong with him.

"I am the Joker. You may know for poisoning the water supply here and there, fighting Batman in public every once in a while..." He trailed off, looking off towards the terrified news reporter with a deranged smile.

You just noticed that he was cuffed to his seat, trying to pull his wirsts out of the metal cuffs to no avail.

"While I do enjoy the publicity on the back of news papers for these last few years, it's frankly quite insulting." he sneered, his smile twitching as he turned to meet the reporters gaze.

"Tell me, dear citizen. What do you think of me?" You could see the clown's hands twitch while holding the mallet.

"I-I-" The man couldn't speak, he was sweating heavily and was gasping for air as he tried desperately to pull his wrists through the cuffs to the point his wrists began to bruise and bleed.

"I th-think-" He didn't even get to finish his sentence before the Joker raised the mallet up into the air and smashed his face in with a deafening crack you would never forget.

Blood splattered across the table, the back of the seat that the reporter was in and on the mallet.

A choked gurgle escaped the man, somehow still alive with his head dented in by the mallet before Joker swung again; this time causing his brain to splatter against the back of the wall, his skull shattering under the weight of the impact and crunch as his head was caved in,leaving the bottom of his chin the only thing somewhat intact.

Your wide eyes watched, taking in the blood, the brain matter and how much red and pink there was.

You could only watch as the Joker struggled to pull out the mallet from the man's dented in skull, finally pulling it out with a heave and ripping part of the top of his spinal cord out in the process with a wet squelch and causing tiny skull fragments to fly on the table, the floor and on the cadaver's lap.

You weren't focusing on what the Joker was saying at this point if he said anything at all or laughed hysterically that he killed a man on live television: You were focused on how the crimson liquid dripped down the table, how the pink mush slid down the wall and how dark the colors were.

Your hands tapped on the carpet around you before grabbing the remote and turning off the TV, staring down at your drawing blankly.

You picked up a red and pink marker and started to color in a new drawing.

It was the only color you could think of right now.

You couldn't get it out of your head.

Alfred would burst into the room minutes later, worry and fear on his face as he had rushed into the living room. "(____), you didn't have the TV on, did you?" He asked with thinly veiled concern, quickly scooping you up into his arms. "No Alfy. I wasn't watch-watching TV." You said calmly, burying your face into his neck.

You didn't want to make Alfred unhappy by saying you did, you just...

Couldn't risk getting hurt again.

You could hear Alfred let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Good, I think It is time I showed you something Master (____). I want you to close your eyes, alright?"

"Okay."

Alfred walked out of the living room with you in his arms, not noticing how the drawing hidden under another that was of a stickfigure in a purple suit hitting another stickfigure with what looked like a big hammer and the pink and red scirbbled over the mallet, a poorly drawn table and the man's face.

NEW CHARACTERS!

The Joker

-There's no good in him, What does Bruce see in YOU?

Harley Quinn

-Psychotic bitch, just another accomplice. Just as bad as him.

Relationship status!

Bruce Wayne (your father): -5/100

-You haven't seen him in months.

-You wished he stopped that evil man in time.

-Failure.

Alfred Pennyworth (Your only friend): 95/100

-You only need him. No one else.

-You feel bad about lying to him

Richard Grayson (The one you fear): -30/100

-You've avoided him for months and haven't seen him, but he still haunts your dreams.

Taglist!

@the-dumber-scaramouche @sirenetheblogger @bellethesleepypotato @mev-fizzah-writes @tsxukikami @shycreatorreview @redsakura101 @feral-childs-word @lexi-username-1 @vanessa-boo @schnuggelig-schnecken-schnurrt @sleeping-l0s3rs @simpingpandas @vanilliona @shycreationdreamland @uu-uuu @crazycookies73307 @chericia @jellystar-star @sillysealsies @hopingtocleaemedschool @sukaretto-n @cantfindmelol @sunshinepower17 @ryuushou @kore-of-the-underworld @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @mxvoid26

A/N: Soooooo, that's the bad unavoidable experience. You don't catch any breaks do you? I never did say the experience would be caused by the family. The unavoidable is infact a direct consequence of choosing hobbies that are mostly done indoors. If one more hobby was an outdoor one this would have been avoided since you wouldn't be watching TV at the time. How you feeling about this? The taglist took a bit to write in which is why this is semi later than what I posted. If I didn't tag you I'm sorry, it took like 20-25 minutes to tag everyone. ALSO! ballet is going to be learned in chapter 5. You kinda aren't going to in chapter 4 cause of uhhhhhh well what happened above.

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

Hello!!

7 for the Spotify prompt pretty please??

Now you're taller than you've ever been There's a mark on the wall, you see I'm sure that someone will draw a new one And cover it before they leave House Song by Searows

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Her finger trails down the wall, tracing each notch, each January 30th etched into the wood. She remembers standing as tall as she could, her socks slipping on the hardwood as she’d call for her dad to mark her new height. Her finger catches on the most recent one, almost a full foot shorter than she is now. She closes her eyes, the image vivid: her last year at home before Hogwarts, always away during her birthdays after that.

A soft knock at the doorframe pulls her from the memory. She turns to see James standing there, a large cardboard box balanced in his arms.

“That’s the last of the kitchen,” he says, his voice quiet, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

She nods and turns back toward the wall, her hand falling back to her side. “Everything’s finished, then.”

The box shifts with a faint clatter of dishes as he sets it down on the floor. His footsteps are light as he comes to stand beside her.

“Thanks for coming,” she says, her voice steadier than she feels. “And tell your dad thanks for the help with the Portkey. I—”

“Don’t mention it,” he interrupts, shaking his head.

“It would have taken ages for me to do this all by myself. I…I really appreciate it.”

She senses rather than sees him nod beside her. “Anytime, Evans.” His voice is warm, familiar, and when he takes another step closer to the wall, she notices his gaze lingering on the notches. “That you?”

A small smile breaks through her sombre expression as she watches him trace the path her fingers just left. “Yeah. My dad used to measure me first thing in the morning on my birthday each year.”

“1970,” he reads aloud, pointing to the highest mark.

“Yeah.” Her chuckle is soft, wistful. “We got a bit behind.” She takes a breath, her voice quieter. “Suppose it’ll all be painted over soon anyway.”

She tries not to dwell on the implications of that. Another thing taken from her, one of the last pieces of proof that her parents were living and breathing only a short time ago.

“Petunia’s meeting the new owners this weekend?” he asks after a moment.

She nods. “Vernon’s grabbing the last of the boxes tomorrow. Tuney said it was…” She swallows hard, her voice tightening. “She said it would be easier, for us not to all be here at the same time. Not in the way of each other.”

James looks at her, and though she keeps her eyes on the wall, she can feel his gaze, searching for something. He’s too good at finding the cracks, at gently pressing on the parts of her she’s gotten used to keeping hidden.

“Come here,” he says abruptly, turning to face her.

“What?”

He steps closer, gently guiding her by the shoulders until her back is flush against the wall. His movements are careful, deliberate, and she realises almost immediately what he intends to do.

“James,” she sighs, exasperated, but there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite herself.

“Just hang on a minute,” he says, already reaching for his wand.

As he leans in, she becomes acutely aware of him—of the warmth radiating from his chest, the way his arm brushes hers, and the scent of him, earthy and clean, with a faint trace of something sweet. It’s utterly distracting, and she has to remind herself to breathe.

The wand slides lightly along her scalp, and then she hears the faint scratch of it against the wall above her head. His brow furrows in concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking out slightly as he works, and she can’t help but watch him—really watch him.

She doesn’t usually let herself look at him like this, but today is different. Asking him to come with her had been a bold move, and she still isn’t entirely sure what made her do it. Mary or Hestia would’ve made more sense. Even Remus.

But it was James she’d wanted here. James who made her feel… well. She still isn’t sure. Safe, maybe. At peace.

“There,” he says, stepping back and pocketing his wand, his grin widening as he gestures toward the wall.

She turns to look, her breath hitching.

“Your turn,” she says softly, her voice steady but quiet.

“It’s your room, Evans,” he protests, shaking his head. “I don’t—”

“Just stand still,” she interrupts, gently pushing him toward the wall. Her hand rests briefly on his chest, and he lets out a sigh of quiet defeat, stepping back until his shoulders meet the surface.

He watches her as she stands on her tiptoes, her wand poised in her hand. Her other hand finds his shoulder for balance.

Lily stretches upward, her brow furrowing slightly in concentration as her wand scratches into the wall above him. When she steps back onto her heels, she smiles up at the mark with quiet satisfaction, her hand lingering on his shoulder for a beat longer than perhaps strictly necessary.

James turns to look, and when he sees the mark, a grin spreads across his face.

1977

He chuckles and throws an arm around her shoulder, tugging her into his side.

“The new owners are going to be so confused,” he says, his tone laced with fond amusement. His gaze flickers between their marks on the wall—the notches tracing her childhood, the singular, deliberate line she’s made for him. “What freak accident happened to the girl with the yellow bedroom in 1977 that made her shoot up like a beanstalk?”

[tasaren]

I have finally fleshed out a little bit of a description for Adara for my pinned message! It's obviously still a work in progress, but it's better than having nothing at all right?

Character Bio and LFRP (Hiatus)

Name: Adara Luminaria (Took on a different last name when she left the clan) Nickname(s): None yet Age: 25+ Gender: Female Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Race: Xaela Au'ra Relationship Status: Single Height: 146cm Jobs: Dancer, Black Mage, Viper

Hobbies: Weaving, Cooking, Botany, and Fishing Likes: Rain, Being warm, Hunting, Taking care of others, Painting/Drawing, Music, and Dancing Dislikes: Pushy people, Loud and sudden noises, When people use her head as an arm rest

Backstory: Adara was born and raised in the Azim Steppe. She loved her tribe and her family dearly. Her parents passed on during a skirmish with another clan and that left her clan to be absorbed by the rival clan when the rest surrendered. Her older sister got along with the new ways of life quickly, always more adaptable than Adara when it counted. Things were fine for a time, until her sister was slain in a freak stampede while leaving the market. Distraught, Adara became a shell of her former self and started withdrawing from the few people she had finally started to become comfortable with. Her breaking point came after a particularly bad nightmare and she packed up her things to leave that same night. She traveled for a time and learned along the way while picking up odd jobs here and there. People seemed to like that she was self-sufficient and had a ruthlessness about her that many others lacked. Eventually she made her way to Ul'dah and settled down under a different last name to cut ties with her old clan.

My Rules:

No hateful behavior will be tolerated. This is including (but not limited to) transphobia, anti LGBTQ+ speech, racism, ableism, etc.

You must be 21+ to RP with me! You AND the character both must be over the age of 21. I will not interact with minors IC or OOC.

I would prefer to keep IC and OOC separate. If issues come up I expect you to be honest with me and communicate. If I'm made to feel uncomfortable at any time I will cease interaction.

Romance/ERP are with high-chemistry only. The ERP must be plot relevant. Don't seek out interaction with me just to ERP. I prefer to grow things organically before moving in that direction.

I am new to RP in ffxiv but i'm not new to RP in general as I have been doing it for many years. I would prefer to do so on discord due to my chronic illness and home life. I would be willing to try in game, but I expect patience and for it to be scheduled beforehand.

What I'm looking for in RP:

Currently I'm looking for friends or possibly romance for my character. How fast she warms up to someone will vary depending on how the RP is going. (More may be added to this section later.)

Please feel free to message me on here if you're interested or have any questions! I'm pretty shy and it's hard for me to ask others outright to RP so know that if I approach you first then I really want it XD.

[roboj0e]

"girl please" is a neutral phrase lmao but my bad ig. anyway, to 99% of the population a fetish and a kink mean more or less the same thing. if there's a difference could you explain it? thx... btw you're not a feminist if you think it's ok to draw or get off to sexual art of children, even if they're fictional/cartoon... you do realize a lot of shota and loli content is traced from photos of kids, right? my abuser made cartoon csem traced from my photos. :/

My dad used to force me to watch csem and distributed csem of me also exists. I actually get sent it sometimes on facebook who I know are just my dad using sock puppet accounts. Did I win the CSA Olympics? Am I now enough of an authority of this trauma to make unsubstantiated claims? I could trauma dump unsolicited on you too but I have compassion so I won't and also I'm not about to plead for my humanity from someone who won't listen and engage in good faith anyways.

I'm sorry that happened to you but it would have happened regardless of the existence of lolisho. Abusers are gonna abuse no matter what. This was the first thing I learned in therapy. What's funny is it was lolisho that help me realize my abuse. Yes I understood sexual abuse conceptually but I couldn't recognize it happening to ME until I saw my situation reflected back at me in a safe sane scenario. My therapist said it was bc I was repressing it in denial and only allowing myself to fantasize about it in a safe environment was I able to recognize it as abuse. Funny how life works like that huh.

Oh to explain I completely forgot bc I had to write this twice bc Tumblr crashed. A fetish is a sexual reliance on something to achieve sexual arousal or gratification and can be sexual.outside of sexual contexts. A kink amplifies sexual gratification, usually has to do with roleplay or sexual acts/positions/height/weight and has to be negotiated and communicated and consentual. Ppl do use them interchangeably BUT specifically with the word fetishize ur using it wrong in this case. To fetishize something there must be both dehumanization and objectification. U can not dehumanize or objectify fictional characters they are not human and are already objects.

No I don't support sexual art of children. This sort of phrasing is just a deliberate misrepresention so u can position urself as morally righteous and disengage from the conversation early and not have to examine what anyone is actually saying. They are fictional characters. They can be any age, any race and body type and have any name at any time. They are objects. They don't exist and can not accumulate trauma the way you or i can. They do not need protection.

If u don't like it that's fine. Especially considering your trauma. But ur claim is unsupported and wildly inaccurate. Do not projects ur trauma onto others especially as it pertains to facts about criminal psychology and sex crimes. This is unhealthy and will lead to paranoia that same paranoia that brought u to ur conclusion here. This is not pervasive enough in lolisho to be considered a trend or even the default. But you also could be sharing real abusive images/scenarios no matter what form of media u engage with. But that doesn't not mean we should sanitize art and media on the off chance someone could be evil. Your not exempt from the same personal responsibility ur trying to place on me just bc u don't engage in fictional pornographic material and it's not especially heinous when it's fictional art versus and any other medium. We could all be unknowingly sharing and engageing with abusive material but all we can do is protect and believe victims and figure out as a society how to reduce harm.

No banning lolisho or any media is not a solution. Studies show most csem is produced/distributed by parent/guardians. The best way to protect children is to advocate for children rights and the reduction of parental rights. Experts have been saying this for years. Children being treated like property both by law and society is what is perpetuating their abuse. Not fictional art.

Censorship is not the solution. Any historical application of censorship has always ALWAYS lead to the mistreatment and silencing of victims and marginalized communities. This will make it difficult for victims to appeal to censors and share their stories which are valuable for understanding abuse but also valuable bc it is art. And incentivizing ppl to invade other peoples privacy to be sure they have the right identity/trauma to create a specific type of art is fascism. So is censoring or banning that art. This will do nothing but silence and shame victims. This is happening still right now and has happened plenty in the past. Guilt and shame ONLY perpetuates sexual abuse.

This is also forcing ppl to engage in art and fiction with a paranoid analysis FIRST. telling ppl they can tell whose a good or bad person based on what they draw/write or engage with is not healthy and is antithetical to educating ppl on how to recognize abuse. It's irresponsible and It's giving children and teens anxiety disorders. Look at any ex anti/proship anonymous confessions. Look at the damage ppl are causing with this third grade level of word association and cause and effect. Ppl are developing POCD. Me included ALMOST.

Experts have been saying for decades now that fictional sexual material has no link to escalation into sexual violence or engaging in paraphilias. No fiction doesnt effect reality. these same psychologists that have debunked claims such as "violent video games cause violence" have also researched how it operates the same with fictional sexual material. There's no special circumstance just bc it's sex or porn.

Just bc u navigate the world on disgust and paranoia doesn't mean I have to. I listen to the science and research. While also having my own experience to draw from.

As a CSA victim with a SEX THERAPIST do u really think I would not have done my due diligence before engaging in any community?? I've done a hell of a lot of work to get where I am now. Sexually liberated and healthy. Both personal growth and LOTS of research into sex crimes. And I really don't feel like hearing regressive religiously programmed sex negative thoughts on the fiction I enjoy.

I am a feminist tho. I'm just not regressive and reactionary. 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️

[thesullenprincess]

Any other writers out there struggle with going back to writing that one fic they haven’t finished yet because they’ve come up with a new idea and WANT to write about THAT instead??

I want to expand on my newest fic ‘Coming Home’ vs working on the first fic that I still haven’t finished but keep telling myself I’ll get around to it… Sigh.

Anyway here’s an excerpt of that said heartache.

“Please, touch me,” Mitsuri begged without embarrassment, unwilling to break eye contact so that he understood she was ready and willing.

Obanai wasted no more time in trying to talk himself out of anything anymore. He did as he was told, starting with her right breast. Since his hand was already mostly grabbing it, he just slightly adjusted his fingers so they were evenly splayed over the whole mound. Even so, he couldn’t get his whole hand around the entirety of her, and he didn’t know whether he should feel incredibly embarrassed, or incredibly turned on.

Growing up, Obanai was fully aware how much smaller he was compared to other men his age, something that had gotten under his skin frequently, but no more so than the time he’d been promoted to Hashira and gotten a first look at Tengen and Gyōmei. The latter especially was a towering mountain of a man, twice the size of Obanai, but was someone the Serpent Pillar quickly came to count on, trust, and respect due to the man’s commendable power and relaxed, silent nature. Tengen, on the other hand, was a different story. Unlike the Stone Pillar, Uzui Tengen was boisterous, self-assured, and—to hear him describe himself—a “Flamboyant God of Festivals”. It had taken Obanai a good long while to see beyond Tengen’s cocky attitude and need to make everything about himself but eventually, Obanai also came to rely on the the Sound Pillar, seeing him not only as a worthy ally and dependable on the battle field, but also a decent man of morals when it came to destroying demons and helping others.

In the earlier days, however, Obanai would often feel dwarfed, emasculated, compared to them. It didn’t help matters too that out of all the Hashira, he was closest in height to Muichirō, a 14 year old boy, and Shinobu, a woman. But he reasoned being locked up for over have his life, subjugated with endless torture and trauma, and not eating most days stunted many things about him. There was no changing that and he eventually made peace with that part of himself.

But now, staring at his hand that didn’t quite fit over Mitsuri’s right breast, Obanai was starting to question if everything about himself would not be enough for her, be quite right for her. What if she thought he was too small, too thin? Would he be able to perform well enough to satisfy her, or would she find the whole experience underwhelming, leaving her feeling starved and empty at the end?

She whimpered, drawing his attention from her chest to her face. “S-Sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing,” he blushed, about to pull his hand away completely if Mitsuri’s inhuman strength hadn’t prevented him from doing so. She squeezed his hand over her breast.

“You’re fine! I-I just…like it done harder.” Mitsuri shyly smiled while Obanai struggled to contain himself. If he was this flustered with some light groping there was no telling how he’d fare when he finally got to have all of her.

He took in a deep breath through his mouth and out his nose, allowing his fingers to close around her harder. “Mitsuri…” he murmured in adoration, watching intently as her face came to life. Her mouth opened, and he took the opportunity to kiss her, sticking his tongue inside as he did so.

At the same time, his hand was moving like it knew what it was doing. Her back arched in appreciation against his hand and he felt her nipple harden under his palm. Obanai relished at how soft yet firm she was. The clothing separating him from her skin was a nuisance but that did not diminish the feeling of her. He’d never felt anything like it.

“More,” she mewled against his lips when they broke their kiss, “touch me more.”

“Where?” he panted.

Mitsuri stared into his eyes, loving the way they’d darkened with his desire. Desire FOR HER. “Here,” she whispered, continuing to watch him even as he pulled back slightly and she opened her legs wider. Her heart thrummed wildly when those eccentric eyes of his followed her movements and widened in surprise. Her skirt was pushed up around her hips, giving Obanai an unobstructed view of all of her.

[hpysprkl]

Kiki's Art Commissions

Commisions are: OPEN

Who and What I Draw

Your Fallout OCs and fave companions. All Fallout, all the time. I've played every Fallout in existence (except that Tactics/BoS bullshit) and I love them all - yes, even 76.

Interested in non-Fallout art? Doesn't hurt to ask!

Looking for more examples of my work? Here's my tag.

Prices (USD)

More details on terms, what I will and won't draw, what I need from you, etc below the cut.

Payment is currently only available through PayPal. I'm looking into other payment options, such as Ko-Fi.

What I need from you

your faceclaim(s). If they're not someone I can easily google, I will need a few clear photos from different angles. Don't have a faceclaim for your OC yet? This is a great place to start looking

in-game screenshots are sometimes useful, so include those as well if they look anything like your OC. I will always prefer real human reference though, so please give me a faceclaim!

basic details: height, build, age, hair color/texture/style, eye color, identifying marks, etc etc etc. For companions, give me your headcanons on any details not provided in-game (or if you headcanon something differently), or I'll use my own if you don't have any

what outfit(s) they wear. If it's vanilla/Creation Club/Atomic Shop, just the in-game outfit names will usually do (i'll tell you if I need more)

any personality traits, background info, or quirks you want to share are absolutely GREAT and help me breathe a little more life into a character

if I'm drawing them with a companion, tell me a little about their dynamic

Will draw:

your Fallout OCs

their companion(s) (including ghouls)

weapons

some blood/gore/injury

sfw romantic content

Difficult areas:

curly hair - I'm trying, I'm learning, but it's harder and might take me longer

Super Mutants - haven't tried yet, but it can't be that hard

artistic nudity/pinups: I'm really out of practice, I make no guarantees

Won't draw:

anything racist/queerphobic/transphobic/bigoted/etc

minors

backgrounds. There's a reason this is a serparate, specialized job in animation and comic studios

nsfw romantic/sexual content (I don't have a problem with it, it's just way outside my wheelhouse. I'm learning.)

excessive blood/gore/injury (again, outside my wheelhouse)

creatures (same reason)

IMPORTANT STUFF

What you get

high-resolution digital art (A4/8x12" at 200dpi for busts, minimum of 12x12" at 200dpi for half body and up) suitable for printing for personal use only

If you'd like me to crop you an isolated closeup of a character for use as a profile pic, I'm happy to do so at no extra charge

my work always includes my signature watermark; you may not remove or modify it

you're not required to credit me if you share it on social media, but of course I very much appreciate it if you do, and a link back to my tumblr along with it will earn you my undying love and gratitude

What you DON'T get

the right to modify, redistribute, sell or in any way profit from the work or products derived from the work (you can share it on your socials or post it with your fanfic and that sort of thing, but you can't sell stuff or give things away with my art on it). If you are interested in licensing for prints, stickers, or any other digital or physical merchandise (even not-for-profit), please let me know so we can discuss licensing terms. The 'no redistribution' rule does include gifting. If you're interested in, for example, printing stickers with my art of your OC to hand out at comic con or something, please contact me.

copyright/intellectual property rights. It's still my original artwork. As such, I am free to modify and distribute it in any way I see fit, including for profit.

[mayordebbie]

So here are my designs for the Bittersweet Psycho Hospital characters as well as their backstories.

I made their designs in Gacha life 2 because that's all I have. If anyone wants to draw them, go right ahead.

Name: Dr. Tobias Masacrik

Real name: Dr. Iven Makpro (help me with ideas for a better name, please)

Age: 30

Height: 6ft. 1in.

Work as:

A doctor

A scientist

A killer

Dr. Masacrik used to work at a real hospital in town. Suddenly a lot of patients started to go missing. It took only a few years for someone to find out where the patients’ gone to. A doctor was about to throw away his empty disposable lunch bawl until he discovered a tiny bit of blood on the hatch of the trash compactor disposal hatch. Curiously, the doctor decided to take a look at what's down in the trash heap and he discovered more than 50 mutilated bodies of the missing patients. The doctor had no idea that Masacrik was the one who killed them and threw their mutilating remains in the trash compactor. Masacrik was secretly overhearing a conversation of the now angry and frightened doctor discussing the incident with a concerned nurse. So Masacrik ‘decided to transfer to a different hospital’ after that incident.

Fun facts:

He only wears his gloves when handling chemicals and things that could damage his skin, but he only takes his gloves off when he's doing ‘operations’ because he loves getting blood on his hands.

Somewhere far outside of town, there is a house and underground is Masacrik's hospital and laboratory. He kidnaps his victims to use as test subjects and ‘patients’ for ‘operations’

Name: Mimi

Real name: Ushko Isabella

Age: 28

Height: 5ft. 3in.

Species:

Human (formerly)

Living doll (currently)

Work as:

A cashier at a gas station (formerly)

Ushko was a sweet and kind woman who worked at a gas station near an apartment where she lived. She was the cashier at the convenience store. One night, she was walking back home until Masacrik tried to grab her. Ushko tried to fight back, but unfortunately, she was no match for the 6ft. 1in. Tall psychopathic doctor, Ushko was 5ft. 3in. Tall with barely any muscle mass, but she really tried with all her might to fight against him. Unfortunately, Masacrik injected her with a lethal serum that immediately killed her. He took her to his laboratory, where he created a doll replica of her with a plastic head and a plush body. He then inserted her soul into it, altered her mind, deleted her memories, etc. She is his doll now.

Name: Strawberry Von Sweetheart

Age: 25

Height: 5ft. 4in.

Work as:

A model (formerly)

A nurse (currently)

Strawberry is very much like her cannon counterpart, arrogant, neurotic, bratty, bitchy, jealous towards Ushko, murderous, in love with Masacrik. The only difference is her backstory and her design. Strawberry used to work as a model. She would always take care of herself and make herself look attractive for guys to simp for her. One night, while watching the news about the kidnapping of Ushko, Masacrik's face appeared on the news as a suspect that hasn't been caught for questioning yet as the search is still ongoing. Strawberry looked at Masacrik's photo that was taken from when he used to work at the hospital in town on TV and she felt a strong romantic feeling for him like damn he's attractive. So, she did some research on Masacrik. He used to work as a doctor in a hospital in town before he ‘decided to transfer to a different one’. Strawberry searched for this ‘hospital’ that he transferred to. Somewhere far outside of town, there was a house and underground is the ‘hospital’. Masacrik still doesn't like how Strawberry feels for him.

Name: Buttercup Tea-Green

Age: 26

Height: 6ft. 4in.

Work as:

A model (formerly)

A nurse (currently)

And then there's Buttercup. Not many people know about Buttercup, but I did some research. So let me explain who canon Buttercup is. He is Strawberry's colleague. He is obsessed with appearing "normal" to the point where it already borders on insanity. It is because of this that he has an extreme dislike for Dr. Masacrik, considering him a freak and an upstart. Deep down, Buttercup is in love with Strawberry, seeing her as the epitome of normality, but she views him as clingy and does not want him to interfere with her relationship with Masakrik. He does not know about the existence of Ushko, but would be ready to help her if he knew about Masakrik's obsession with her.

Anyways, now here's the Bittersweet Psycho Hospital counterpart of him. Buttercup used to work as a model alongside strawberry. Both of them first met when they used to go to college, Buttercup always had a crush on her. He only joined with her to be a model because he wanted to be with her, he wanted to impress her, and he wanted her to think he's attractive, but she has no interest in him. One night, he overheard Strawberry talking to their boss about quitting, not wanting to be without her. He quit alongside her. He was curious about her strange behavior, so he decided to see what was up with her. He secretly followed her to a house far away from society. He was very concerned for her and wanted to protect her, so he decided to work as a nurse alongside her in this strange hospital.

Fun facts:

He absolutely hates Masacrik not only for ‘taking his crush’ but also for the absolutely morbid things he does to his patients. Sometimes, Buttercup succeeds in saving and freeing Masacrik's patients, but he isn't successful all the time. He knows about Ushko, and he wants to help her, but he's afraid that Masacrik will kill Strawberry for revenge if he even dares to help Ushko.

Buttercup is pretty much like his canon counterpart. He's obsessed with appearing "normal" to the point where it borders on insanity. He hates Masacrik and considers him a freak. He's in love with Strawberry, seeing her as the epitome of normality, but she views him as clingy and does not want to be with him.

So, what do y'all think of them? If y'all have any ideas, let me know in the replies, DMs, or the asks. You can also ask me questions about them as well if y'all want.

NEW UPDATE ON ADDRESSING THE CONTROVERSY!!! READ THIS POST FROM REDDIT! IT EXPLAINS EVERYTHING AND MORE!!!:

[cellythefloshie]

;; All I Want Dedicated to @callsign-denmark for her birthday bingo

Summary: This year, to make it easy on her family, Claire is celebrating her birthday in Raleigh. She would prefer a more private event, something just for family, but when your brother was the Captain of an NHL team: family extended to a roster of 21 she barely knew - including goaltender Frederick Andersen. M's Bingo Card Tropes: Whirl-wind romance, Captain’s sister, FreeSpace - children/babies (Claire's nieces and nephews), “Let’s celebrate tonight”, “please stay”, Summer Birthday Kinks & TW: age gap, love at first sight, soulmates, in public (briefly), thigh riding, alcohol consumption (no mentions of intoxication), sundress season, virginity/first time, size kink/height difference (5'2 & 6'4), vaginal fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex (are we even going to pretend to be surprised by this?), implied heels kink, pet name: flower. Original Character: Claire is the baby sister of the Staal family. Face Claim: Dove Cameron. Word Count: 8.6k+ A/N: Happy birthday girlie! I hope that this little (ha) story I've put together for you fulfils your birthday bingo dreams and more! Also, damn you! The sinful things I thought about this man while writing this. There is no going back after this one. And full disclosure this was based solely on like 1 interview I watched and a handful of pictures on the internet because I know next to nothing about Freddie BUT I like to think I did a pretty damn good job with him. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to celebrate your day with you! 🎉

Playlist.

Claire didn’t like big birthday parties, but when you were a Staal you didn’t get much of a choice in the matter. Her parents were always in attendance, then came her four older brothers, and with them their wives, and their children. You would think that it would have stopped there, but when your brothers all played in the NHL - and when one happened to be the Captain of the team in the very city she was holding her little get-together - players or two were bound to show up as family. Claire didn’t mind all that much, she liked the guys Jordan played with and it always made for an entertaining night - even if that meant feeling like a bystander at her own birthday party. 

Without knowing for sure just how many people would show up, her parents had taken the opportunity to reserve a private patio as her restaurant of choice - and it made Claire all the more sound with her choice to wear the light and flowy blue sundress patterned with daisies. It had been a dress she had been looking for an excuse to wear. The skirt of the dress stopped just above her knees, and the bodice was fitted to show her figure without being too heavy on her skin. The Carolina heat would weigh on her enough throughout the evening, she didn’t need an uncomfortable outfit to ruin her night. Instead, she would leave that to her shoes. 

Claire was small. Standing merely 5’2, she had been dwarfed by every single one of her brothers who stood at 6’4. The moment she had stopped growing, she had committed to a lifetime of being someone who had to wear heels. She wore them wherever she needed them, no matter how uncomfortable or impractical they may be, and had mastered the art of walking and running in them. Which was already coming in handy as the night was young as she was chasing around her all too energetic nieces and nephews. 

For the most part, the 12 children, varying in ages, could entertain themselves - or were glued to the hips of their mothers as they were too young or too shy to venture out onto the open patio space around the table. But Claire, she had a reputation to uphold. As the youngest child, who was proudly single, she was the embodiment of the Fun Aunt. She spoiled them with gifts and wasn’t one to shy away from being a little too rambunctious - even if that meant drawing a little too much attention as everyone arrived. 

“Look who we have here,” the voice had Claire perking up from where her nieces and nephews came at her in an onslaught of affection, demanding to be picked up and swung around or carried on her back, “an overgrown child.”

The playful jab had her beaming, a smile bright as a ray of sunshine as her eyes fell on the culprit, “Brady!”

Skjei had only been on Carolina for a few seasons, but with his history playing with the Rangers alongside her brother Marc, he was a familiar face at family gatherings. “You made it,” she lowered one of the children back to the ground, giving the others a quick apology as she excused herself to greet the Carolina Hurricanes defenceman to her party. 

“Of course,” he smiled, his arms opening wide to welcome Claire into his embrace, “biggest bash of the off-season, when have I ever missed it?”

For a moment, she pondered in his arms. Lips pursed her head tilted from side to side. She couldn’t quite remember the last time she had a birthday without him being there. Marc had invited him all the way back in Skjei’s rookie season when it had been her sweet sixteen. She had a schoolgirl crush on him back then, but now she couldn’t look at him without seeing more than another brother. 

“Never, ever,” she decided after a moment and stepped back from his hold, “so what did you get me?”

Brady scoffed as if she had offended him, “You mean I’m not enough?” Claire shook her head slowly, bouncing her feet with anticipation as she held her hands behind her back. She looked misleadingly sweet, and innocent when in reality she was far from it. “Alright, alright, you got me. Mom took it from me when I got in. You’ll know it’s from me when you open it.” 

“Oh, so it’s a good one,” Claire laughed.

“They always are, aren’t they?”

“Of course,” she pushed his chest playfully before leaning off to the side to look around him, “didn’t drag the team along with you this time?”

“Not many of the guys back in town yet,” he hummed, looked back over his shoulder to where the brothers had gathered, “just Derek and Freddie-”

Claire perked up, “who?”

She knew who, well kind of. Frederick Andersen had been the team’s primary goaltender - except when his injuries had plagued the season - since was signed back in 2021. And while it had been years since that initial contract, she had yet to meet him. Which was a damn shame, because from what she could tell he was gorgeous. 

“You haven’t met Freddie?” Brady raised a brow, his arm around to cradle your back as you both turned in place to try to find him in the crowd. Which wasn’t all that difficult when he towered as tall as her brothers. Her eyes settled on him as he stood by the table with her brother Jordan, and glass in his hand as the two of them shared conversation. Just the sight of the towering Danish goaltender left her stomach aflutter with butterflies. He really was gorgeous with his strawberry blonde hair that was slicked back like James Dean and a smile that left her weak in the knees. 

“Com’on then, let’s go meet him,” Brady’s words were a mere echo in her mind as he pressed against her lower back to ease her into her stride.

She followed his guidance carefully, her every stride bringing her closer to Freddie, and giving her eyes something more to admire. First, she noticed the stubble that framed those lips that she was sure could talk her into anything. Then, was how his t-shirt hung off the strength of his shoulders peaked at his chest before hanging loose around his west. Her eyes travelled down over his hips and she had half the mind to stop there but then she saw her thighs. Claire was left near salivating that how they tested the elasticity of his denim jeans. She had no doubt that they were thick - strong and it only left her wishing he had been wearing shorts just so she could indulge in the sight of them. To see how they flexed when he walked, or how they would spread over his seat as he sat-

“Earth to Claire!” Her mind had been lost, her gaze up on the watercolour skies as her mind wondered only for Jordan’s humoured tone to cut through and end any sinful thought that threatened to overtake her. “You alright there kiddo?”

Claire wrinkled her nose, at the nickname. She was very much a grown woman now, and it was still a nickname she could shake thanks to being the baby of the family. Yet, she didn’t fight him on it and instead spoke out in a soft, apologetic hum, “I’m sorry, I must have just gotten distracted. The sky is just beautiful right now, isn’t it.”

“She is,” the unfamiliar voice left her head snapping in its direction. The two, simple words had slipped from Freddie’s lips, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she had heard them right. Surely, her mind was playing tricks on her and he had said it and not she. Right?

“What was that?” she cocked her head at him, her bright blue eyes raising to meet the sweet chocolate hue of his stare for the first time. Claire had only meant to indulge herself in a quick glance, but the moment her eyes found his her stare was locked for his gaze was down on her as well. The air around her seemed to be lost, her lungs suffocating on the mere presence of him as she waited for even a single word to leave his perfect lips. 

Claire watched as his smile waivered on his lips, curling from a small smirk to a wider grin before settling back into that smug smirk again. She knew in an instant that he wasn’t going to get the answer she was looking for. Instead, she was met by the reach of his large hand, and let his lips part in a simple introduction, “Freddie.”

Her brows were drawn together at the offer - a handshake, really? What was this? A business meeting? Yet, she humoured him, her hand left feeling dainty as it was consumed by his touch. It engulfed her like the overwhelming embrace of an ocean wave. Lungs struggled to take even a single breath as the warmth of his touch consumed every inch of her body. Then, she was lost in his gaze, drawing in every bit of his attention and drowning in it.  Claire held his hand for too long, she knew it and she was sure her brother had noticed too, and yet her touch on his hand remained as she finally manages a slow and steady breath before saying nothing more than her own name.  

“The birthday girl,” Freddie hummed out, and her stomach fluttered. 

Something told Claire that he could call her anything and she would be left swooning. 

“That’s right,” Claire hummed her fingers still lingering on his, failing to let go of his hand, “and I think that means you have to get me a drink.”

Claire hadn’t meant to be so flirtatious with her words, especially not with her brother and Brady standing right there. Yet it left her lips so shamelessly, and her boldness hasn’t failed her. 

Gripping her fingers between his own, Freddie drew her in just close enough to wrap her arm around his so that she held onto the breadth of his forearm so he could guide her off to the bar - leaving Jordan and Brady behind them before either could interject. Her delicate fingers gripped gently at his strength, her heart both dreading having to let go of him and racing at just how he felt between her touch. Touching him felt like the first sip of water after days of needing to drink. It was unlike anything Claire had ever felt from something so simple and it left her breathless as she came to the bar. 

His words were an echo in her mind as he ordered his drink, and then his gaze came down on her again, patiently waiting for her to tell him just what she liked to drink. 

“Paloma, please,” she muttered sweetly, her hand still on his arm as she looked only to him with little acknowledgement to the bartender. 

And when their order was made, and they were left to stand and wait patiently at the bar, Freddie turned so that he was facing her fully and his towering frame leaned up against the bar. The casual tilt brought him a little closer to her level, giving her a good look at the smirk on his lips and the glimmer in her eyes. For a moment, neither of them spoke and just stared. Claire with undoubtedly smitten with him - and maybe if she believed in love at first sight, this would be it. Because the way he stared at her with those sweet brown eyes of his had her convinced that he was feeling it all too. 

“So, birthday girl,” Freddie finally hummed as his frosted glass of amber liquor was placed down in front of him and alongside it the grapefruit garnish contrasted it with its femininity, “what are we drinking to?”

Her hand reached out, tracking hold of the glass before raising it between them, “To my brother for having such generous teammates.”

Freddie chuckled lowly, his large hand wrapping around his glass before he raised it between them. Together they took a shallow sip, their eyes locked. It was almost enough to make her choke, but she managed a slow breath and maintained her composure. 

“Now, hard question,” Claire hummed, taking a small step in, “How’d I get so lucky to have you as a guest at my party?”

She watched as his smile grew as he stole another sip of his drink, “contract negotiations,” he answered simply. 

“I think that means we will have to toast to Don as well.”

“We can save that one for when I sign.”

“Which means I’ll need your phone number,” she bit her tongue as she realized what she had just so blatantly done. She could feel her cheeks flush with colour, her heart thundering with regret. Claire knew better than to hit on her brother’s teammates. For their sanity and her own - and the safety of the poor player who even wanted to take the risk of toying with her heart. Yet, she persisted, “You know, so we can celebrate.”

Placing his glass down, Freddie dipped his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his cell phone before it joined his drink in the bar. His silent question asked Claire to put her number in his phone. 

Claire glanced to the side, across the patio to where her brothers were talking with Derek and Brady. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. Placing her drink down, she took his phone in both hands and typed in her name and number before hanging it back to him. Claire had expected him to tuck the phone away but took the time to text her quickly. Sending her phone into a dreamy chime with the notification. It was a sound she had come to hate, but now it excited her. 

“You think I gave you a fake number?” She teased him gently. 

“No, no,” Freddie chuckled, his head shaking slowly, “not at all, I-”

His words were broken by the clamour of children’s footsteps as her nieces and nephews stormed the table for dinner. “I think that our queue,” Claire’s words were a half sigh as she drew her hand back from his forearm. The moment she released him from her gentle touch it was as if she were a battery that had been charged but her current was beginning to fade. It was a feeling unlike any other she had felt before, and her gaze on him lingered for a moment as she wondered if he felt it too. 

Managing a smile she stepped back and fell into stride towards the table, leaving Freddie at the bar behind her. Her lips moved in a silent What the fuck? as her mind couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened, and what she had just let herself do. She carried her Paloma in one hand, while the other reached up to push her blonde hair from her face. It stayed there, her fingers knotted in her hair at the crown of her head as she moved to sit at the head of the table. 

Seat by seat the table was filled until a single seat was left to be taken at her side, and one person remained standing. Claire held her breath as the patio chair was dragged against the ground and filled by Freddie who had come to the table with a fresh drink for them both. He placed it down in front of her without a thought or a look in her direction, leaving her jaw slacked in disbelief - but she was quick to press her lips firm together when she noticed her nephew mimicking her as he sat opposite to Freddie. 

Claire’s lips curled up into a smile as her nephew grinned at the realization that he had been caught. “You gotta be on your best behaviour mister,” she told her nephew, leaning in to smile at him, but it only made him laugh. While it was her birthday she got stuck sitting at the kid’s end of the table. If the kid was old enough to eat without the help of their parents they were exiled to her end of the table, which often featured at least one of her brother’s wives, but tonight the Carolina goaltender had filled their place. 

“I’m not joking,” Claire claimed, and it only had her nephew grinning a troublemaker’s grin, “we got a guest with us, Mr. Andersen. You don’t want to scare him away do you?”

Holy fuck. She thought. Mr. Andersen. It felt so weird, yet so good on her tongue and it left her head spiralling as she helped her nephew with his menu. Freddie Andersen. Frederick Andersen. Mrs. Frederick Andersen. The thought left her feeling giddy as the name echoed in her mind as if she were a schoolgirl scrawling his name across her notebook. That’s what this had to be, a schoolgirl crush of an infatuation. It was the only explanation for it all. 

With that thought, she tried to put all she had felt for him that evening behind her. To forget the anomaly that was her intense pull to him - but there was no ignoring him as he sat right beside her with the spread of his legs just enough to graze against her leg beneath the table. There was no ignoring how easy the casual conversation came between them, or just how good he was with her nieces and nephews when their antics carried out throughout the dinner service. Freddie fit in so effortlessly, so flawlessly that it was as if he had been there the whole time. That fact left Claire dreading having to say goodbye. 

It was a heavy weight in her stomach as she stood at the door of the restaurant, thanking her family and friends for coming. Her nieces and nephews were the first to accept their hugs, sad that they had to say goodbye to their Auntie Claire, but they were tired and didn’t put up much of a fight when they were told to get in the car. The crowd thinned and soon she was left with her parents, and with Freddie who lingered back by the door. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as she told her parents she wanted to take a walk before heading back to the hotel. To go on without her, and when they left her she stood alone with a single gift bag in her hand. Then, she looked straight at Freddie. 

“Did you think I was going to let you run off before I got to say goodbye?” Claire called out to him, her casual stride carrying him toward him. 

He met her halfway, a smile on his lips, “quite the opposite, actually.”

Claire beamed. He had been waiting to catch her alone. 

“Let's celebrate tonight, just the two of us?” Claire asked him slowly, her hand dipping into the bag to brandish a bottle of Canadian whiskey that Brady had given her for her birthday. 

His eyes seemed to flicker with the light of a flame as his hand dinner into the pocket of his trousers. Drawing out his keys he held them up for her to see, “Where do you want to go?”

“I have a room at the Residence Inn,” Claire told him, with a smile and let him lead the way to his car. 

Upon arriving at the hotel, and with his car taken care of by the valet, Claire lead him through the hotel but did not go up to her room. The night was too beautiful to waste it in bed, and it would have been much too forward - though she wouldn’t have complained if that was all Freddie had wanted from her - instead, she lead him out to the darkened patio. It was closed, but she slipped beneath the half-assed barricade and crawled up onto one of the loungers in the corner just out of sight of the security camera she was sure hadn’t worked in the first place. 

Chuckling, Freddie followed her lead - much more gracefully than she had expected - and sprawled out on the lounger across from her. The seat was too short for him, his foot handing off the end even as he was seated up at an angle. Claire could help but stare as he sat there, his auburn hair hanging down over his forehead and his clothes so relaxed on his frame. So effortlessly handsome, she admired him as she reached into her gift bag and grew out the bottle. Manicured fingers picked at the plastic that sealed the bottle, and she let it fall to the ground before twisting the cap free. She took the first, long sip and let the whiskey burn its way through her body before holding it out for Freddie to take. 

His large hand wrapped around the neck of the body, his fingers grazing over the skin of her hand for a moment before she could pull back. Claire could still feel the ghost of his touch as she lay back and stared up at the sky. Just beyond an awning, and around the sun umbrella they had forgotten to close when their service had come to an eye, the night sky was filled with the glimmer of stars. They were faint, drowned out by the city light, but she could see them there. She watched as they sparkled, her eyes trying to planets from stars from satellites as the two of them passed the bottle back a forth. Sipping it from occasion before it was forgotten on the ground between them and conversation prevailed. 

They spoke of their careers. They spoke of home, of family and friends. They talked about their hobbies, their similarities and their differences slowly becoming clear - and not once did her magnetic draw to him waiver. The more they talked, the more she knew, the more it grew. Claire wanted to be near him, to feel him, to know him for more than his mind and his soul but his body too. It was a craving, one that consumed her so fully it was almost debilitating as she pushed up from where she lay on the lounger. 

Reaching down, Claire pushed her heels from her feet with a single hand before her feet met the cold concrete. She stepped around the open bottle of whiskey and took two tip-toeing steps to reach where Freddie sat no more than an arm’s reach away. And he must have been watching her, waiting for her, as she was greeted with the slow embrace of his hands around her waist as she climbed onto the seat with him. 

His fingers wrinkled her dress, causing the flimsy fabric to rise around her thighs as he guided her up into his lap. Claire’s knees rested on each side of a single thigh, the soft fabric of his trousers brushing over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh as she seated herself down. She near shuddered as she felt his muscle flex between her legs, the thick quadricep pressing up against the thin fabric of her panties and the apex between her thighs. There she sat, her full lips parted in a breathy part as she reached out to trace her fingers over the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Claire craved to lean in, to steal that breath of air between them but she hesitated as her bright eyes were heavy and gazed over every angle of his face right down to the swell of his lip as he took the lower lobe between his teeth in restraint. 

“Freddie I,” she gasped out gently, “I don’t normally do anything like this…”

Claire wanted that to be clear. She wasn’t some temptress that made it her mission to sleep with her brother’s teammates nor was she someone who let a man steal more than a kiss on the first date. But with what she was feeling, she wanted to chase the highs of being in his company even if that meant breaking the unwritten rules of being the Captain’s baby sister. 

His head shook slowly, a small smile creeping up onto his lips as one of his hands left her waist to reach up. Freddie’s warm palm met her cheek carefully, his thumb stroking over her lips and feeling her every nervous breath.

“You and me both,” he finally said as his thumb dropped to her chin, “this is the exact opposite of what I should be doing if I want to be staying on the roster, but-”

“But?”

“I just can’t shake this feeling,” Freddie hummed, pushing up from the recliner to straighten up just enough that the tips of their nose graze. He didn’t have to say any more than that. She knew exactly what he was speaking to because she was feeling it too. “I would very much like to kiss you, Claire.”

“If you kiss me I might not be able to stop,” Claire cautioned, her gaze shifting down to the golden cross that hung from her neck. 

The Staal family was strong in their faith, and she had yet to truly give herself to any man. With all that she was feeling, her skin already ablaze with just the overwhelming thought of it all, Claire knew the risk that would come from just a single kiss from his lips. She needed him to know what this would mean to her if she left it spiral. She needed to know that he was willing to carry the heavy weight of being her first with him. 

His perfect lips parted in a breath of a curse as his thick fingers dragged down the angles of her neck. Freddie’s touch was featherlight, but it left a burning path in its wake as he reached her collarbone and the dainty necklace that hung from her neck. Two fingers stroked over the chain before taking hold of the small cross that was no bigger than the pad of his thumb. 

“Claire,” her name was almost a groan on his lips as he studied the cross with eyes that seemed to darken in the night, “you’ve never-”

She couldn’t answer, the embarrassment of it all in her throat. She had always thought she would have waited until marriage, but she had never wanted anyone more than she wanted him in that moment and she hadn’t even kissed him yet. Instead, all she could do was shake her head. 

“Fuck,” he cursed again, but it sounded more like a hymn now, “You’re going to get me into so much trouble, you know that?”

His hand splayed out, holding her gently around her throat after dropping the cross to rest just above her cleaved. With that hold, he drew Claire in, his mouth meeting hers in the kiss she had been craving from him all evening. Any suffocating feeling that had lingered after being void of his touch at dinner had been eliminated the moment his lips met hers. Freddie’s kiss breathed life into her unlike any kiss had before, and Claire felt whole. 

It had started out in a chaste drag of his lips over her own, firm and curious, but it ignited a spark that neither of them could ignore. It drew her in further, her lips parting to welcome the intensity of his kiss, and Claire was melting into him. The world around them was lost as Claire gripped his t-shirt in her fists, and with a single hand, Freddie was pulling her in so that she was flush against him. Freddie’s warmth radiated against her, consuming her as she let one leg fall over the edge of the lounger to ground himself. With one leg anchoring him, Claire could feel his hands travelling down over the subtle curves of her body. His palms stroked over the dip of her waist and down further still as he gripped at her hips. Fingers wrinkled her pale dress, inching its skirt up a little higher as he shifted her position on his thigh just right. And with the careful guidance of his hands, Freddie dragged her clothed cunt over the thick expanse of his thigh. 

The friction left Claire gasping against his lips as she kissed him. Her hands released his shirt, dropping the now wrinkled fabric, before reaching to gasp at the strength of his shoulders. With that hold, Claire anchored herself to him, and let her hips roll in his steady guidance. She could feel each flex of his thigh, and each tug of her panties as they caught on the fabric of his trousers. It pushed the fabric back and forth, forcing the structured hem one way or the other leaving it to tease the most sensitive parts of her and expose her delicate skin to the pleasure of his thigh. Each desperate roll of her hips was almost enough to leave her reeling, her legs threatening to tremble as her arousal seeped into his trousers and undoubtedly could be felt against his skin. 

“Freddie,” she mewled against his lips, his kiss dragging down across her jaw and coaxing a feeble moan before he pulled back just enough to look at her, “My room’s on the third floor.”

“Are you sure?” Freddie asked slowly, his large hand raising from her hip carefully and reaching out to stroke over her swollen lips. 

“I’m sure they won’t want us doing it out here on the patio,” when she spoke, her lips dragged against his fingertips - the mere touch of him sent a smile to blossom over her lips. 

“Yeah,” Freddie breathed out, “Yeah, you’re right.”

Standing up slowly, Claire ran her hands down over the skirt of her dress to smooth out each wrinkle before reaching down to collect the bottle. She cradled it in her hold and watched out of the corner of her eye as Freddie stood - towering - and awkwardly shifted his trouser with the hope to hide the stiffness of his cock as it tested the confined of his trousers. In the dark, it wasn’t all that noticeable, but in the light of the hotel room lobby, she was sure someone was bound to notice. 

“Here, take this,” Claire thought quickly as she reached for the gift bag and placed the bottle inside before handing it to him. It wasn’t a big bag, but maybe it would be enough of a distraction. 

Looking up from his half-untucked shirt and the leather belt buckle around his waist Freddie offered her a smile and a quick thanks before the two of them snuck off the patio and into the hotel lobby. It was so late in the night that not even the front desk clerk greeted them, making it a quick and easy walk to the elevator that would take them up. 

Claire stood on one side of the elevator, her thighs pressed firm together as her panties were still askew, and Freddie stood across from her with the gift bag strategically held in front of him and his eyes locked on her. Leaning her head back to rest against the wall of the elevator, Claire watched him in return, her mind racing faster than she could register a single clear thought - and before she could even try to fathom one, the elevator chimed as they reached the third floor. 

Quick strides carried her out into the hallway and only grew quicker as she left her own arousal dripping down the inside of her leg. Her strides stuttered as she came to the door, her fingers fumbling with the key card for a moment before she was pushing her way in through the door. 

Freddie was quick to come in right behind her, the warmth of his body against her back as he dropped the gift bag - and the bottle of whiskey - to the floor with a hollow thud leaving his hands free to take to her body. Hands splayed over the curves of her waist, drawing her back into him so she could feel the stiffness of his cock against her back. Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, her head almost feeling dizzy as she felt him lean in just enough to mutter against her ear. 

“I’m only going to ask this one more time,” Freddie hummed, the rush of his words hot against the shell of her ear, “are you sure? Do you want me to be the first to fuck you, Claire?”

Claire could only nod, her lips slightly parted as she took a steady breath, her mind confused fully by how big he felt pressed up against him. Even while wearing her two-inch heels, Freddie towered a foot taller than her and was so big, so strong. He made her feel small, that at any moment he could pick her up and take her as he pleased and yet, he was taking his time with her. His touch was so cautious, so careful and tender. This wasn’t just going to be a quick fuck. She knew it, and with the way he was touching her - and the way they had been acting all night - he knew it too but neither of them could call it what it was. 

“I need you to say it, Claire,” Freddie prompted her again, his long arm reaching down the length of her body to tug up the skirt of her dress. He drew it up by the hand full, revealing every inch of skin along her thigh and bearing her panties to him. She could feel the vibration of his hum against her back, his two thick fingers dragging over the white lace hem that rested inches below her belly button. 

“Yes,” came the ghost of the word, “Yes, I’m sure.”

His two fingers dipped into the thin fabric, his fingertips dragging over her smooth flesh and did not stop until they came to rest over her clit. It seemed to sting with desperation, screaming for the pleasure that would come from the pleasure of his touch. Yet, all she could feel was the subtle accidental graze that came with the angling of her own hips. 

“Freddie,” his name was a gentle whine on her lips, her head turning to glance back at him. 

“Has a man ever touched you here?” he hummed into her hair as his finger pressed into her clit, a gentle pressure that almost left her teetering uneasily in her heels. 

“No,” she gasped simply, her petite body leaning back against his as her eyes shut. 

Freddie’s fingers stroked in slow, agonizing circles as he spoke again, “Have you ever touched yourself here, Flower?”

Her cheeks flushed red hot at the question, and her knees weak as the nickname was assigned to her by his tongue. Claire nodded slowly, her blonde hair becoming a mess between her head and his chest, and she held her breath as he dipped her fingers lower into the crotch of her panties. Blindly he fixed them just right, trapping his touch between the thin lace and the wet warmth of her cunt - then as his fingertips traced the slick entrance of her core, Claire took in a sharp inhale. 

“What about here, Flower?” Freddie breathed into her hair, each word hot as it was spoken. 

“No,” Claire’s lips quivered, “never.”

“You’ve been such a good girl,” he praised her gently, “waiting so patiently for me.” The cockiness in his tone left the corner of her lips curling as she leaned back into his strength. His free arm welcome her, wrapping so effortlessly around her waist to keep her firm to him as she gazed up at him through her thick lashes. “I’m going to take my time with you, Flower. Spoil you on your birthday, would you like that?”

Claire nodded. 

“Good, girl,” Freddie hummed as he slipped his hands from her panties and let the skirt of her sundress fall back down her legs, “lay down on the bed. Leave everything on for me.” 

She took careful strides as she moved for the bed, her legs left feeling weak from the mere absence of him and only found relief when she was crawling up into the comfort of the bed. Settling among the pillows, Claire bent one leg and she reached for the thin strap that fastened her heels around her ankle. 

“Ah, Ah,” Freddie tutted, “leave everything on for me, Flower.” 

Her fingers froze and eased back against the pillow as her eyes fell on him. Freddie still stood by the door, the glow of the hallway light streaming in and illuminating his silhouette in a halo of light. He had watched her crawl up to the bed without moving from his place, admiring her. It was only as she sat frozen by his words that he took casual, long strides, that carried him to the foot of the bed and tugged his t-shirt off his back and up over his head. Claire couldn’t stop herself from letting her eyes wander. Trailing up from the belt of his trousers where the waist of his boxers played peek-a-boo, and up and over the strength of his body. Her gaze didn’t stop until they had settled on his softened features, and how they were framed by what was now a mess of his hair. 

Her bright eyes fixated on the contrast of his darker as Freddie settled himself at the foot of the bed. It shifted under his weight as he crawled up just a bit high so that he knelt just between her feet. All the while holding her gaze, Freddie took hold of her gently by one of her ankles. He guided it up carefully, placing it on the strength of his shoulder, before turning his head just enough to kiss the inside of her ankle. The action, so sweet and tender, left Claire melting back into the pillows - and her arousal only continued to puddle as he kissed his way up. Up along the length of her calf, his hand guiding her leg up and over to rest along the stench of her back leaving the heel of her pump to drag over his flesh. Up around the curve of her knee was his large hand began to push up the skirt of her daisy sundress. Up over the delicate flesh of her inner thigh where his every breath left her core aching in the anticipation of feeling him.  

As he reached the apex of her thigh, she could feel Freddie hesitate, his hot breath flooding over the damp fabric of her panties. His every hot breath only primed her for the feeling of a single, thick finger dipping into her panties. Hooking it around the soaking fabric and drawing it down her legs so that she was rid of them fully and her glistening cunt was left bare for him. 

Claire could hear Freddie as he let out a steady hum, his hands leaving her dress to pool around her waist to explore the flesh that was exposed to him. A single palm rested over her pelvis, his warmth radiating over her as his thumb reached down to stroke slowly over her clit. It unearthed a desperate whine from her lips, one that was choked back into silence as she felt his fingers glide down over her lower lips and stroked around the entrance of her core. 

“Such a beautiful flower,” he spoke into the soft skin of her thigh, “so wet and ready to be fucked - but first, I’m going to make sure you can handle me. Get you nice and ready for me, so we’re going to start with just one finger, alright, Flower?”

“Yes, Freddie, please,” she pleaded with him, her hips wiggling with anticipation but his one hand kept her pinned firmly to the bed. 

“Patience, Flower,” he reminded her gently with another kiss to her thigh, “you’ll have all of me before the night is over.” His words were a promise as he stroked over her slick entrance one last time before easing the tip of his middle finger inside of her. 

Claire’s lips parted in a quiet gasp as she looked down over the curves of her own body to watch as Freddie worked between her legs. He watched looking up at her instead his eyes were focused on her cunt, at how well her core took his finger and left his skin glistening with her desire for him. The friction of his fingers alone was enough to send her head back to the pillows, her heart racing from every agonizing stroke. 

“So good, Flower,” Freddie praised her, “I’m going to use a second finger now.”

The pressure of the second finger left her biting down on her lower lip as her core stretched out to accommodate him. It was a burning pleasure, her legs weak as one remained draped over his shoulder with her heel digging into the muscle of his back. The pleasure sent her hands to the sheets, her hands gripping at the fabric until her knuckles were white - then came his praise and it only sent her head spinning further into her pleasure. 

“That’s it” he hummed, “you’re taking my fingers so well, Flower, and so pretty while you’re doing it too.” He kissed the inside of her thigh again, the pressure of the pleasure building like the raging storm inside her until he withdrew his fingers one final time and left her void before she would reach the peak of her pleasure. “Taking my fingers so well, I think you’re ready for my cock, Flower.” 

Claire's chest was weak with nerves as she pushed up onto her elbows to watch as Freddie eased her leg from his shoulder and moved to stand at the foot of the bed. She watched as he kicked off his shoes - his fingers that were once inside her now in his mouth as he did so - before his hands dropped to his pants where his erection had tented in his pants. There was nothing discrete about it now, and there would have been no hiding it behind a gift bag if they needed to now. She watched as his hands worked his belt free, and pushed his trousers down until he was left in nothing but his boxers. But not even those stayed on as he hooked his thumbs around the waistband and pushed them down to join his pants on the floor. He stood there bare to her, her eyes left to wander. 

From floor to ceiling and back down again, Claire’s lips were left agape at the sight of him. Freddie was big. From his height to his hands to his cock, there was nothing that failed to impress her about his size. Everything about him made her feel small, especially as he crawled back up the length of the bed until he was hovering over her with a single knee between her legs. 

“Let’s get that dress off of you,” Freddie hummed as he hovered over her, his hand coming down to her shoulder to push one of the straps down over her shoulder carefully. The gentle touch has her sitting up just enough for her hands to work on her dress. She couldn’t get it off her body fast enough, the zipper just out of her reach and left to Freddie’s gentle touch before Claire could discard the fabric on the floor and was left in nothing but her heels as she lay out on the bed beneath him. 

Her chest rose and fell in nervous breaths as she felt her eyes skirt over her body as it was now fully exposed to him. Claire held her breath at the touch of his hands as they explored the newly exposed skin, his hands caressing each exposed breast and his thumb teasing each pert nipple with a teasing smile. “Every inch of you is just so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his neck craning as to put a sweet kiss against her shoulder and when he pulled back his expression was soft as he gazed down at her, “Eyes on me, I want to see the look on your face as you take my cock.”

Biting her lip, Claire nodded desperately as Freddie pushed up onto his knees. He settled himself between her thighs, his careful touch spreading her legs just enough for him before they reached down for his cock. Her eyes were fixated on his face, and his slack-jawed expression as he dragged the tip of his cock over her slick cunt. His eyes almost shut at the feeling, his body shuddering with a heavy breath as the head of his cock kissed her entrance. 

The pressure of the mere tip of his cock left Claire wincing. It was much thicker than the breadth of his two fingers, the girth of him stretching her core out with the mere first inch of him that tore through the final piece of her that marked her virginity. “Stay nice and relaxed for me, Flower,” Freddie breathed out, his one hand reaching out to stroke over the swell of her hip, “it’s going to feel tight, might even hurt just a little, but it’s going to feel so good. I promise you.” 

Claire gave off a desperate nod, her breath hitching as she felt him ease in just a little more of him. She could feel the slick of her core on the inside of her thighs, his cock coaxing more from her with each careful plunge. Any discomfort that came from accommodating his cock soon dissolved into pleasure, leaving Claire arching her back to angle her hips, finding just where she liked having them angled and digging her heels into the mattress. 

“That’s it,” Freddie cooed, his hand gliding down the back of her thigh to grasp her behind her knee. He lifted her leg up to rest against his hip, her calf coming to rest along the back of his thigh as he eased himself in so close to his limit. “So close to taking all of me,” he added as he leaned in, kissing his way over the angle of her jaw and to her lips that were so desperate to be kissed. 

Her lips welcomed his with a breathy, open-mouthed kiss as her bright eyes fell shut - and while she couldn’t see him she could feel all of him. The sweet embrace of his lips as they swallowed each of her feeble moans. The flex of his arms as they drew her petite body flush to his. His legs and how they were tangled with her. And finally, his cock as it delved deep and deeper still inside her until she burned with a throbbing pleasure, unlike anything she had ever felt. 

“Freddie,” Claire mumbled desperately against his lips, her arms reaching around his to grip his back. 

“That’s it,” he cooed, drawing back just enough to rest his forehead against hers and to bring a hand up to stroke over her cheek, his own lips parting in a ghost of a moan, “you feel how good it feels to - ah - fuck,” his words were broken by his own groan the waves of her pleasure all so consuming that he could feel it too. 

Together, they were a symphony of heavy breaths and lingering touches. Their kisses were messy and desperate, mixed with soft moans and low, guttural groans that were punctuated by one final trust that flooded her core and left her feeling full - as if the piece of her she didn’t know she was missing had finally found her. 

The feeling left Claire panting as she lay out on the bed, her eyes training on Freddie’s features until he had drawn back to leave her nothing more than the darkened ceiling. She could have sworn she was seeing stars, or even colours, as she was consumed by the euphoria that Freddie had brought her two. Her gaze was almost tired as she felt him moving down the bed and to where his clothes rested on the floor. Head lulling to the side, Claire’s heart thundered in her chest, her stomach weak at the thoughts that were all too consuming now, was he leaving? 

Biting her lip she was as he jumped into his boxer, her eyes burning with the threat of tears as any emotion now was almost too much, and then she said it, her words quick - almost fearful - as she sat up and clutch a nearby pillow to her chest, “please say.”

“Hey,” Freddie sighed, his tone instantly reassuring as he braced himself against the bed so that he was at eye level with her, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m just going to go grab a warm cloth, and help you get cleaned up, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Claire nodded, her words a breath, “I’m sorry. Okay.” 

Settling back into the bed, Clare’s hands came up to cover her face as the weight of it all hit her. She wasn’t a virgin anymore - that thought made her smile. She had lost her virginity to her brother’s teammate - that was what made her nervous. If Jordan or any of her brother’s found out, there was no telling how they would react - and her poor father would probably have a stroke if he learned she had done anything out of wedlock. 

The thoughts left her stomach uneasy as Freddie returned to the bedroom with a warm, damp cloth. He ran it carefully over the inside of her legs, before dropping the rag to rest over her knees as she pulled her heel-clad feet into his lap to finally remove them. It was then she spoke, her throat weak from moaning, “Are you scared of my brother?”

Freddie shook his head, his smile returning to his lips, “no, are you?”

A chuckle rocked Claire’s shoulders as she reached her hand up to push her hair from her face, “I’m scared of what he will do to you if he ever finds out.”

“We don’t have to tell him at this happened,” he told her gently, his hand dropping one show to the floor, and then the other before he lay beside her. 

Large hands tugged the blanket around them before he reached out to draw her in close to him. Even now that she had him, all of him, there was nothing like being touched by him. She craved it, thrived under it and now that she had it, she didn’t want to know what it was like to be without it. “But, I can’t pretend nothing happened tonight, Claire. I don’t know what’s happened tonight, but I don’t want it to stop. It’s like-” “Like you’ve found something you didn’t know you were missing?” Claire cut in, earning a gentle nod from him as he leaned in to place a firm kiss on her lips one last time before letting his eyes flutter shut. 

Laying content in his arms, with sleep sure to take them both soon, Claire didn’t know what was to come of them come morning. But what she did know was that she would have to thank the team’s general manager, for she would have never met Freddie if it weren’t for him - and that was the best gift she could have asked for on her birthday. 

[shin-haneul]

𝙿𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛 (𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐) 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚞𝚕

____________

Haneul's family are as domestic and lovely as they come. Having moved into a nice village after their wedding, Haneul's parents started their lives in domestic bliss. When Haneul came along they decided to give her the world and as an only child, she had close to everything she could've wanted except a career aspiration. Concerned for her future, her parents tried to get Haneul into any hobbies they could find classes for. And this, proved to be an expensive undertaking as, for example, 8 - year old Haneul switched between 8 different hobbies in one year.

After hundreds of dollars and the arrival of a very expensive family camera, 12-year-old Haneul decided that photography was her calling and spent her childhood documenting anything she found beautiful.

Fast forward a decade and Haneul has just finished moving into her new apartment in the city to get her photography and arts degree and in her eyes this is the first step towards being a real adult and she's excited to see what life throws at her after this.

One day, Haneul dreams of setting up her own studio and working as a professional photographer, but for now she just wants to explore, grow as a person and create friendships and meaningful connections along the way.

____________

𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚞𝚕

Age: 23 (22.06)

Height: 163cm, 5'4

Physical features: she has naturally black hair but keeps it a chocolatey brown colour. She has two really tiny tattoos of an elephant, stars and flowers and has her ears pierced. She needs glasses and wears contacts most of the time when out and about but sometimes foregoes them because her prescription isn't that bad

Profession: Junior Photographer at Dazed Korea

Hobbies: Photography, Baking and Drawing

Important people: @clubwnderland (🦊💗) @wolf-sxyeon (🐺) @silcntxnight (🔥) @bxnqchxn (🌠) @livealittleoc-cb (🍩🍷)

She/Her, Bisexual (male lean), Poly (2 partners who don't have to interact)

Relationship status: Single

Characteristics: Haneul is bright and bubbly and loves making friends but simultaneously struggles to socialise as well as most people her age. She loves getting to know things and finds great pleasure in the simple things in life and is very optimistic. Growing up as an only child, Haneul often felt lonely and longed for a sibling who would play with her around the clock. This means that once she feels close to someone it's easy for her to see them as her people and will love them fiercely. She can be clingy but is careful never to overwhelm others with her affection.

Romance: Haneul has been in two relationships before but neither was particularly long or note-worthy so she remains relatively inexperienced in the worlds of love and sex. She needs someone who will let her be affectionate and love on them. She would like someone who treats her as an equal but when needed can be a nurturing figure since there are still some things she needs some guidance with and wants to experience with someone she trusts. Haneul knows if she likes someone by judging how safe she feels with them, how nervous she gets around them, how special she feels with them and if they can make her smile with just a mundane action.

NSFW: sub, breeding, bondage, praise, primal play, size kink, somnophilia, dirty talk, marking, manhandling, size difference. Limits, hard-nos and safe words will be discussed in DMs as necessary.

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𝙸𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝙸𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

This bot is for entertainment purposes only and does not claim to be and is not representative of the faceclaim (han_kyung) and does not claim to own any images etc. used

Admin is 20+ and goes by she/her pronouns

It is possible that in future NSFW content and other triggering topics may be posted about. These topics will be tagged as trigger warnings appropriately so please block any tags you feel uncomfortable with

This bot will not interact with any nsfw content from a bot if there is no admin age in the bio

Hate, in any form, will not be tolerated

RPs are open for bots (including OCs), admins and Y/Ns and can take any plot you wish as long as admin feels comfortable

Asks are open to all, anons may, if they wish use an emoji to identify themselves

Haneul is Poly. Jealousy and hate towards her partners will not be tolerated

RP replies will be made whenever admin has time and feels like replying

Admin will not tolerate any forcing of romantic or nsfw interactions

RPs will be literate and in third person

The energy and effort you give will be the energy and effort you receive, so if you'd like an engaging RP please respond in an engaging manner

And more than anything else, Have fun with it!

[smthliminal]

⸻ ♡ 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⟨ the details ⟩

Name: Tomiko Sakurai

Nicknames: Tomi, Miko

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 32

Neighborhood: Woodside Heights

Occupation: owner of Novelty & Wiccan Ways

Orientation: lesbian

Status: single

Residency: local, left at 18, returned 9 years ago

⸻ ♡ 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 ⟨ the past ⟩

trigger warnings: i don't think there are any but i apologize if i missed something

Throughout the course of her life there had really only been one thing Tomiko Sakurai had been passionate about: art. In any form it came in, she loved it and always tripped in awe of it when she found herself in the presence of it. She was born and raised as a middle child to a pair of Woodside's elite somewhere among the mansions of Beachwood. Most of her youth was dedicated to ballet, her mother's choice and insistence, and she was quite good at it. The performances she was a part of caught the important eyes of some top trainers and directors all the way up in New York and as far reaching as London and Paris.

At her father's urging, Tomiko was also quite the impressive scholar, having read all the classics by the time she'd entered high school. She was a part of a literature society and had her own book club as a teenager. If she ever brought home a grade less than an A, Tomiko would be punished. Through all of that, whenever she found some peace and alone time, Tomiko escaped into the world of paints and brushes to canvas. She experimented with colors, textures, mediums, even the styles in which she painted. Everything she felt and endured was put onto canvas as a way of purging. When she couldn't paint she would sketch and draw in a notebook, finding little reprieves throughout the day when needed.

Aside from growing up with her family's wealth and prominence she'd always known that she was different. Not because of ballet or high achieving scholastics, but something further than that, something deeper and not well accepted in the midwest when she was growing up. Not within her Japanese culture either. When all of her friends were becoming boy crazy and chasing them around the playground, she was sneaking peeks at girls. This of course was kept a secret and something she kept buried within herself for years, only coming out when she was caught red handed by her father with one of her friends in a compromising situation.

That incident had her sent off to Paris where she attended university and worked to be a part of the ballet. Eventually Tomiko made it in, never a Prima Ballerina, but a principal dancer. It wasn't good enough for her parents who pushed for more yet still found it brag worthy. The biggest blessing being so far away from home meant that Tomiko had the room to be herself, find herself, and enjoy herself. It took some time for the strict regimen to ween off but she found herself with friends all over the city and beyond going to restaurants, cafés, art shows, concerts, etc. There was even time for her to paint freely, whenever she wanted, and never any shame in someone seeing what made it onto her canvases.

In Paris Tomiko was also free to date whom she wanted out in the open. Without the shame of her parents or their friends seeing. Without schoolmates judging. She was a new person in France, she was Tomiko Sakurai. Her first girlfriend was an art major at the university and after seeing Tomiko's paintings she introduced her to a curator. One thing led to another and all of her paintings sold out after a show. It hadn't meant that her art career began. Still she was under her parents thumb in many ways, afraid to rebel too much as she had been conditioned her entire life to please them. Tomiko continued to create and sell her work on the side of university and ballet. It wasn't until she received a phone call one day from one of her siblings that their father had been arrested on tax fraud charges. With that news something broke free within her and Tomiko said fuck ballet and left Paris with another girlfriend upon graduation.

They traveled around Europe for a while, spent extra time in Rome, but Tomiko eventually came home after her father was sent to prison. Some glimpses of his trial she'd caught on the news, she felt betrayed by him. The man's harsh rules and judgements had her living in fear for so long, away and outside of her true self, when all along he'd been the one that was wrong.

When Tomiko and her girlfriend settled in Woodside, she used the money she'd made from selling her artwork to buy Novelty. Literature was still a passion of hers and she wanted to reclaim that from the years her father had dictated her enjoyment of the written word. Her witchy, spiritual girlfriend had convinced her to also buy Wiccan Ways, a witchy shop, so that she had something to do and something to run. And running was what she had ended up doing just over a year into Tomiko's hometown. The American way of life hadn't been for her she'd said in a note she'd left behind. So, Tomiko lives making art and running her shops. She doesn't know why she's kept Wiccan Ways other than it would always be a nice reminder of someone special at a special time in her life.

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event

"It's my birthday and I'll write what I want to \o/"

Gift Details ♥ Reader: cisfem!reader Character: Shiryu Kink: #3 Spanking Prompt: #12 "No Panties" Gift Giver: @theluckychemist

Summary: You greet Shiryu upon his return to the island. Unfortunately, your short skirt and wide smile are appreciated by more pirates than just you intended target.

Content Notes: punishment, vaginal fingering, degrading pet names, spanking (duh), someone's the boss in this relationship and it ain't the reader, size difference, possible age difference

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

You stumbled a few steps into the room as Shiryu shoved you inside. Your heels clicked loudly against the stone floor, the room turning dim as he shut the door.

Gathering yourself you straighten up and turn toward him, taking a step back even though he didn’t move toward you. You tug absently at the skirt you’re wearing, he’s already grumbled about it being too short, and you’re pretty sure he’s a little angry since you greeted him in it – much to the pleasure of Teach who couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” He questions evenly. He towers over you. Everyone on this crew did, but Shiryu was the only one who loomed on purpose. He hasn’t even stepped toward you, but you can almost feel him drawing closer.

“I… I should’ve waited in here.” You admit, heart pounding in your chest. “This outfit was… just for you.” You take a step back.

You’re not truly afraid of him, but he is intimidating. Shiryu has done nothing but protect you and please you since you accepted his advances some months ago. With the Blackbeard pirates taking over the town, being under his wing made things easier. Not that you couldn’t handle yourself, but fighting back pirates when you were trying to work was exhausting.

He steps forward, going over to a comfortable leather chair that was designed for someone of his height. After he settles in, taking off his hat and coat, he seats himself and pats his leg.

You move toward him at the beckoning gesture cautiously.

“Over my knee.” He says simply. Sternly.

You swallow hard, feeling your throat go dry, but you don’t argue, and just nod. You have to step onto a stool to be high enough to do so comfortably, but there was plenty in the room to accommodate the height difference between the two of you.

You put your hips over his knee, chest against his other leg, holding on as your body shivered in anticipation. It wasn’t fear, he wasn’t nearly angry enough to do anything to leave you afraid, but you knew a detail he wasn’t aware of yet.

“Such an obedient girl.” He muses. “I’ll give you credit where it’s due. You owned up and quickly corrected your mistake and didn’t argue about this punishment.” His hand on the back of your leg makes you flinch.

He hums. “No need to fear, I won’t – Oh?” His hand had slid up your thigh and to the curve of your ass, pushing the short skirt up and over your hips. “No panties.” His hand rubs your bare ass cheek and you hold onto his other leg as you start to shiver.

His tone, and his touch, have you on edge. You don’t know yet if he’s pleased or angrier than he was before.

“Shiryu…” You nearly whimper. “Please, I meant it as… as a surprise.”

“… Around all those other men.” He growls, palm rubbing your ass in a slow circle.

You shake your head. “I wasn’t th-thinking! I just want-wanted to see you! I’m sorry!”

“You’ll certainly think better in the future.” He assures you, hand leaving you for a moment before it lands sharply on your ass.

The sting pulls a strangled sound from you before you gasp to catch your breath. You know the drill with this sort of thing, however, so quickly as you can you cry out.

“One, Sir!”

The second one lands sharp and heavy and you count it out. The weight of some of the smacks are pushing you into his thigh, but you’re aware that he could shatter you if he choose to. As it was, the sharp leading sting quickly sank into something pleasurable.

The fourth smack carried the sting of the one before it, and you knew your cheeks were already turning red. The problem was that the fifth smack raised you up enough your legs came together, and you could feel your own arousal slipping down your thighs.

“S-Six! Haaa ♥ Sir!” You cry out, nearly moaning in pleasure.

Shiryu’s finger slides between your thighs, causing you to grip his pant leg and buck, squirming against the finger that’s teasing your entire slit so easily. He rubs your leaking lips a few times as you shiver and squirm from the sensation.

“My little whore is enjoying her punishment it seems.” He says in a voice dangerous but amused. He pulls his finger away. “Very well, if you cum before this is done, then I’ll have you gagging on my cock and locked up in a chastity belt for a week.”

You grip his leg a little tighter and do your best to concentrate. His threat isn’t nearly as much of a threat as he might think it is, but you also don’t want to test if he’d keep you in a chastity belt for a whole week.

The seventh strike rattles you to your core, and you nearly forget to count. You rush the words out just before the next strike lands, and swear before you cry out the number. Shiryu rubs your tender ass for a moment, and the sensation sends pleasure rippling through you.

Along with the understanding that he’s not going to make it too easy for you to survive this punishment without feeling the full weight of his promised threat.

The ninth strike was almost a failure for you. Just as you were trying to call out the count he pushed his finger into your dripping pussy and you practically cried out from it. The heavy, wet, squelching sounds made your whole body shiver for a moment before you managed to nearly growl the count out from between grit teeth.

When he pulled his finger out you almost sighed in relief, even as he smeared it clean against your thighs.

“You’re doing so well, (Y/N).” He praises. “Don’t count anymore, just endure it.”

The first smack was heavy, just like the nine before it. After that there was less weight to the smacks, instead they were snappy. The sharp pain had no weight behind it, but the stinging sensation turned pleasurable faster. They were almost love taps, and you could barely control the building pleasure even against the hot sting of the rapid spankings.

Some part of you wanted to squirm away, but just as you were sure you couldn’t take any more the assault stops. Your skin is hot, and tingling, and the soft cool air is almost too much to bear, as though it wishes to bring you over the edge itself.

“Cum for me, little one.” He demands, finger sliding back inside you, the heel of his hand caressing your sensitive ass as he works.

It only takes a moment and you do as commanded, clutching onto his leg, moaning your pleasure into the air as your legs and body twitch beyond your control.

Check out the event - requests are accepted until 7/31/2023 EST

[stingslikeabee]

Wes and Mel, and/or Broden and Mel? 🥺👉👈

send me a pair name and I’ll tell you what I think it would be like if they had a child . accepting

Name: Jasper Broden. Gender: Male. General appearance: Tall, lanky, graceful - there is a lot about Jasper that outright denounces his parentage given how amazingly like his father he is. They share the same body type, height and even keep their hair somewhat similarly. To those who were friendly with Broden as a young man (even before the time he spent in the army), they are all convinced that Jasper is his spitting image. Personality: Jasper is often described as creative and unique - he is the type of child that was fortunate to be surrounded by material comfort (since both his parents were accomplished business owners) and to live in a time where no threat of war existed (with Shinra presumably gone and world order being more peaceful after the fall of Midgar). Besides, being a native to Kalm exposed him to the city's artistic environment from a very early childhood - his interest in drawing and designing made him someone with a different outlook on life. Jasper is not as sociable as his mother and neither embraces the adventures of his father as former military - he is content to be in his head and to express himself differently through fashion. Special talents: Naturally gifted for the arts - particularly the visual ones. Jasper draws beautifully (and often), both as a hobby and as part of his career as a designer. Many people actually thought he would go on to be an architect given his keen interest in many of the Kalm landmark buildings (and the family-owned hotel was no exception), but he ended up in a different path. He dabbles in painting and sculpting, but solely as past-times. One thing he enjoys doing and which is definitely an influence from Melissa is gardening - he takes good care of the plants of the hotel and is fond of visiting local flower shops for fresh bouquets (and inspiration). Who they like better: Contrary to popular belief, it's his mother. Despite Melissa's personality being on the extroverted and energetic side, Jasper was influenced by her fashion style from a young age and always had her as some sort of role model and reference. Melissa actively fostered and encouraged him to follow his own dreams and made sure he knew he was loved and cared for regardless of how difficult social interactions were for him at times. He is very fond of his father, too - but Broden's own life experiences made him a more reserved person, which tends to prevent genuine connection sometimes given how equally quiet Jasper can be. Who they take after more: Definitely Broden - from looks to the calm demeanor and the quiet but pleasing voice tone, the similarities are astonishing. As Jasper got older, the comments in relation to how he reminds everyone of his father's younger days turned into a daily occurrence. However, there are certain differences - Jasper's spirit is more on the creative side, very conflict-averse and less sociable. He would have never enlisted for war or volunteered to run a family business with a client-facing role. He is aware of the privileges that stability has granted him, though - and willing to help from the back-office as necessary. Personal Headcanon: Jasper enjoys collecting old things from the Republic of Junon. From personal items that have survived (such as pocket watches and compact mirrors) to bits and pieces from old electronics and gadgets, there is something about non-Shinra technology that fascinates him. Jasper always claimed they were more aesthetically pleasing and smartly crafted - and whenever possible, he goes to little auction houses or bids on these items online to make sure his collection continues to thrive. Faceclaim: Erin Mommsen.

[linagram]

[meet the guard!] guard 003: kuroki hinode

(this was supposed to be posted yesterday but.. i forgor...)

HE'S FINALLY HERE!!! THE THIRD GUARD!!! AND ALSO RIKU'S BIG BROTHER!! LET'S GO!!!

he gets not one but two drawings bc he's a very special little boy (and also bc i feel bad for him since he got introduced late for obvious story purposes but like.. i really need to make more content for him..)

(also fun fact: the first drawing actually was done in july and the second one just a few days ago.. i can actually see some differences in my art style hehe..)

another note is that when i started to work on hinode's character, my first thought was that i kinda wanted to create another physically disabled guard character (since i think eiji can count as the first one because kei's treatment of him had not the best impact on his body), it just sounded like a neat concept! but i also didn't want to make him.. how do i explain.. too sympathetic, maybe? too squishy? what really annoys me as someone who is physically disabled is that characters like that are often used to make people feel bad for them and don't really have any personality OR they turn out to be the bad guys who only pretended to be disabled for pity points. so instead i've tried to make hinode's problems realistic and a lot of it comes from my own experiences, but i still wanted to make him morally gray and kinda.. you know.. kinda suspicious. (you're more than allowed to joke about punching him or putting him in a blender and all that)

General info.

Name: Kuroki Hinode (黒木日出) (his last name means "black" and "tree" and his first name means "sun, day" and "exit, leave". yes, hinode's name has kanji for "day" and riku's name has kanji for "evening".. the parallels <3...)

Age: 22 y/o

Gender: Male

Status: Guard 003

Birthday: January 28 (Aquarius)

Blood type: AB

Height: 179 cm

Occupation: Unemployed

Personality: Hinode isn't as outgoing as his brother, but he still enjoys talking to others, learning more about them and just spending time with other people. However, he's used to being alone, so he won't complain if it's not possible for him to talk to anyone at the moment. It actually might be better for him, since he gets tired quite easily because of his poor health and can't be active for too long. He feels sleepy most of the time, so please don't judge him for suddenly dozing off in the middle of the conversation, even if it's very important. He's not as passionate about justice as the other guards and mostly just wants to do his own thing, not caring about morals too much, but still having enough common sense to punish those who deserve it (in his opinion). He dislikes the physical kind of punishments because he believes that they're too "basic", since pain can easily scare anyone and there's nothing special about it. It's also possible that he doesn't like them because of his own experience with chronic pain, but to be honest, Hinode is lying when he says that he doesn't like to see people in pain. Yes, he believes that pain is the worst thing that could happen to anyone, even worse than death. But also, as someone who has no choice but to spend most of his days in pain.. Maybe he does want to see the prisoners feel the same way as he does. Maybe just a little bit. He still prefers the psychological punishments, finding them more "effective" and "suitable".. mostly because he's too weak to punish anyone physically.

MV info.

His Milgram cover: Him and T1 Naomi are twinning and he'd cover Weakness! The lyrics remind me a lot of him and I think with an instrumental like that it'd be appropriate for Riku's brother to cover it.

His DECO*27 cover: Harinezumi. The lyrics remind me a lot of him in general, him trying to keep up with everyone even though his condition doesn't allow him and him feeling like a burden to others, especially his family, but also being jealous of Riku for being so popular, talented and living his best life (at least it seems so on the outside) ("I can still keep going! Jealousy, what a trifling thing", "Don't you sometimes feel a little dizzy? I'm sighing because I'm tired of my heart pounding", "People know their true forms after being broken and crushed") and also the song describes his dysfunctional relationship with Riku really well as two brothers who are both jealous of each other and who both want something the other has (Riku has friends, popularity, the time and energy to make music, meanwhile Hinode has the family's attention, others helping him and people not judging him for spending the whole day in bed) but who also still love each other and genuinely wish their life could go differently ("I'll embrace you, we won't be parted", "Don't be prickly with me, each time we touch, I throb. If I prick you, you might hate me, well, there's no way that will happen!.. At least, I think", "I'm an attention seeker! I want to be spoiled! I want to melt even more for you!") And also considering that one of them is extremely suicidal and the other one is afraid that his life won't be that long.. ("In the blink of an eye, which of us will die?")

His Non-DECO*27 cover: Waltz by Nashimoto-P. I imagine Hinode having this very soft and quiet voice that almost sounds like a whisper and I feel like it would fit the way Miku is tuned very well! Also the lyrics sound so much like him trying to cope with his condition, his relationship with Riku, other problems and slowly going insane in the process. ("Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, I ask what day is it today, regrettably thinking today will be a good time", "I don't know what's fun, but as I run out of things to do, I will accompany you", "My EKG is a straight line, I wonder how many decades ago") Some lyrics, especially the chorus remind me of the way he acts as a guard too. ("Stop trying to give up, the world is connected. Dance, smile, while you're being controlled. In the beginning, in the end, the details are non-existent. Don't resist, accept it, everything is connected") Also, Riku's T3 song is supposed to be by Nashimoto-P too, so :} They're matching!

His T3 Voice Trailer Voicelines:

"Ah, greetings, prisoners. Um, I apologize for such a late introduction, haha.. My name is Kuroki Hinode and I am the third guard of this prison. Nice to meet you. Starting from today, I'll be replacing Sanada Eiji-san as he's recovering. I hope we all get along. I'm really not the best person for this job, so I apologize if I end up falling asleep in the middle of the interrogation, haha.."

".. What was I supposed to do? I can't even get out of bed right now. If he wants to be saved, then I'm not the one who he should ask for help."

Trivia:

His eyes may not look like it because of the lighting on the first picture, but his eye color is supposed to be gray, meanwhile Riku's eye color is more of a mix of light green and gray.

Hinode's natural hair color is light brown, but a few days before Riku committed his crime, Riku suggested that he dyes Hinode's hair, hoping to make him feel at least a little better. They went with the brightest colors Riku had just for fun and it really did make Hinode smile and he was happy to spend time with his brother like that. In season 2, Riku dyed his hair the same way and noticed the colors only when it was too late, so it's possible that he missed his brother and did that subconsciously. It should be noted, however, that Riku's T2 hair is light green on the left and red on the right, meanwhile Hinode's hair is light green on the right and his hair is more pink rather than red on the left. Hinode also has a double ahoge just like his little brother and same goes for their little sisters. It's something they all share :)

He started putting his hair in a bun since he arrived because he found working with his hair down uncomfortable. Miki helps him with it now.

Hinode's illnesses aren't deadly, but a lot of them are chronic and dealing with them made Hinode a little bit paranoid and he has a lot of health-related anxiety. His condition is supposed to be mostly up to interpretation, but I can say for sure that he has anemia, narcolepsy and fibromyalgia.

He's the tallest out of all the guards (and that also makes Eiji the shortest). He's also the oldest one.

It's hard for him to walk because of how tired he feels most of the time, so he asked Miki if it's okay to hold her hand when they walk together. After a lot of internal screaming because of Hinode being so cute, Miki agreed. 

His room has everything he needs and he can see the whole prison on multiple screens, watch the interrogation recordings, adjust the brightness of the screens and the room temperature and whoever kidnapped him also somehow learned about all the medications he has to take. He was creeped out by first, but then went "Oh, it's kinda nice actually :)"

Speaking of him arriving to Milgram, he was kidnapped while he was asleep. So before Jackalope brought him his guard uniform, Hinode spent all his time wearing pajamas. He still thinks they're more comfortable than his uniform. (another fun fact is that the first "concept art" of him had him in his pajamas sjskkssl)

He's probably the best character to ask for medical help at the moment, since he does know a lot about things like that, but whether he's able to actually help someone depends on how he's feeling at the moment and what his relationship with that person is like. 

Hinode actually used to play the guitar before his health started to get worse and after he realized he doesn't have the energy to play anymore, he gave it to Riku. Riku still uses his brother's guitar and not counting the ones he got in Milgram, he refuses to get a new one. It also has a bunch of silly drawings on it made by Riku himself, Hinode and their little sisters. 

[enemyoflactose]

Your OC Kiki looks really cute! Can you tell us a little about her? Personality, likes/dislikes, story, or anything you'd like, please?

Hiiii!

It's been a long time since I last told someone about Kiki, so I kinda forgot some of her lore. But I can tell you everything that I remember.

Kiki is from a world where everyone is either a magical species, has powers, or has an attribute that is increased to superhuman levels.

Kiki is a regular human, so she isn't a magical being like a unicorn, demon, or anything like that. Meaning she had to wait until a certain age to get her powers.

Except these powers never came.

You see, in this world you can't have any kind of major disability, Mental or physical, before you gain your power. If this happens, then your power becomes incredibly stunted.

For Kiki, she was in a bad car accident when she was 9 that made her partially blind and made it hard for her to walk properly.

So whatever power Kiki would have gotten, couldn't be harnessed.

This is where the ghosts come into play!

Ghosts are people that have died with unfinished business, or just haven't accepted that they've died yet. They have their own little community and everything because there are a lot of ghosts in this world due to a lack of reapers.

Ghosts get to keep the powers that they had when they were alive, but they get one new ability; the ability to transfer that power to someone who couldn't harness their own.

That's just what happens to Kiki! Only problem is, is that ghosts can't tell if someone has already been given a power by another ghost. So Kiki (and a few other characters) ends up with quite a few powers. No one knows it's ghosts doing this btw.

These people are called multix, and they are considered the weakest in society. They can't participate in the yearly power scaling festival and have to be taken in for medical testing at least once a month. Not to break the blockage keeping them from accessing their powers, but to remove the gifts and find out where they're come from.

Kiki can manipulate fire and air, breathe under water, heal people, and sorts of things! But it's really draining and hard to do so she usually doesn't.

I have different forms/outfits for when she uses these powers, but they all need a redesign.

Anyway, Kiki is a very nice girl if we all ignore the fact that she often pokes her nose where it doesn't belong and gives unsolicited advice. She is working on it, but still slips up.

She's very fun and bubbly, but also has a jealous streak. She hates that she can't control her gifted powers, and that everyone around her can basically do what she can do but way better.

Her likes include:

Cake

Her boyfriend Alex

Fashion

Sewing

Drawing

Friendship

Romance

Cats

Her dislikes include:

Fighting

Long work days

Horror movies

Snakes

People that don't shower

Her height (she's short)

Hospitals

Kiki is a seamstress and often makes her own clothes and does alterations for her friends and family. She may be half blind, but that doesn't stop her at all! She's still good at what she does, and her business is surviving.

Thank you for asking about Kiki! Sorry that everything is a little all over the place! I'm just excited to talk about her! I'll see if I can arrange my thoughts better soon 💞

[livingfictional]

Hello! Can I have a rdr2 matchup, please? Im sorry if the info will be too much!

I'm 18 soon to be 19 (29/07) I do like (legal) age gaps tho! :)

Female, she/her, ExFJ 2w3, Leo Full typology: ExFJ 2w3 269 sp/so SLUAI FELV

I prefer villians and overall evil characters however I have a soft spot for kind, sweet big men :3 I prefer men in fiction

Personality:

I am pretty social, however I prefer to spend time alone! I care about others a lot… To an unhealthy amount honestly but I'm working on it! I love to help others and make them smile, but I do wish I would get something for being so nice in return, yeah it might sound greedy but I want to be appreciated! And get something nice haha, like just a compliment or something, when my helping and kindness gets unnoticed I might get upset because of how tired I am and I just want to be appreciated like I said before 😭 I wanted to be noticed and not ignored! I care too much about what others feel and think and it's tiring, I just want to be selfish sometimes and care about myself even if it sounds mean. I also love being mentioned/involved in things, it makes me feel liked <3

People call me funny! Well it all depends because everyone has a different sense of humor! But I am most of the time unserious and I love to joke around, serious situations are stressful so I prefer to be joyful, but I do like talking about serious topics (sometimes) Like I said before I love to make people smile and laugh with my jokes and overall with make them happy with presence. It's my job to make others happy <3

My humor is definitely not for everyone, it's mostly the humor of a 12 y/o kid which can be annoying to some people lmao (sometimes it's funny how people are annoyed by it) and some other things depending on how I feel. When it comes to annoyance I also like to annoy people <3 it's so fun! But I never want to make them really feel bad! Often I act like an asshole but this is just for jokes! (but sometimes I wanna be a real asshole lmao) Like I said I don't want them to actually feel bad, if I do, I will feel very guilty! When it comes to it I apologize A LOT, I apologize so much that it might too annoying but I always feel a sense of guilt inside of me. I'm also VERY sensitive and worry about everything. Ah and I'm pretty dumb and I am not trying to insult myself I am just silly hehe and I'm okay with that. Oh and Im clumsy 😭😭

People know that I am horny 24/7, like I said earlier I have a humor of a 12 y/o so there are a lot of sex jokes. I am very interested in nsfw things, kinks etc, I am the "horny" friend

Likes/Dislikes:

I LOVE LOVE horror and scary things, I can't imagine my life without it, its just a such interesting genre that makes me happy and intrigued! I adore horror games and I'm mostly interested in them, however most of the time I am scared of playing them so I just watch gameplays and stuff like that haha. You can say I am obssesed with horror! (its funny because its easy to scare me haha)

I love to eat food <3 especially sweet things

I also love cute things! Plushies, pink, clothes and other cute things! I just love it so much <3

I like games very much (I suck at them), art, anime, drawing and psychology! When it comes to music I love energetic ones!

I dislike slow music but there can be some exceptions.

I dislike cooking (I love when someone knows to cook however I suck at it

Appearance:

Around 156 cm height

Chubby

brown eyes

chin length hair with bangs

round glasses

Thank you and I hope you will have a wonderful day/night!

I hoe you enjoy, you sound like a lovely person 🎀

I match you up with… Sean!

Throws sex jokes right back at you, a horny bastard.

He’s the show off type, so he will make a big deal of how much he loves you, how amazing you are, how cute you are.

So you’ll never have an issue with feeling unappreciated around him.

Has to have his hands on you 24/7, even in public. He’s not the shy type, PDA al the way. Unless you’re not a fan, of course.

In private he will hold on to you, calloused hands rubbing over your soft skin.

He’s more of an oblivious type, loud and a bit dumb. But he always tries his best, making sure you feel loved.

[thaumatology]

Behind the Muse meme.

tagged(sorta) by @esotericjerks

Name: Nate

Age: 27

How old were you when you first started RP-ing: I'm pretty sure I started at 15, maybe 16. (That was a mistake btw, I do not recommend it.)

Height: 6'3"

OC’s or Canons: OCs, though I have a couple OCs who started out as borderline expies of canon characters just because I liked their vibe but I am allergic to actually playing canons because I feel like I will get them wrong.

Prefer to play females or males: I think if you looked at all the characters I have ever created there would probably be a slant towards male, but in terms of my currently active characters it's a pretty even split (though Colin still gets more of my attention than any of the others.)

Favorite faceclaim to play: I don't really use faceclaims, at least not directly. I'll often pick an actor with a similar facial structure to use as a reference when drawing a character from different angles, but I'm usually not trying to recreate them 1 to 1.

Least favorite faceclaim to play: N/A, see above.

Worst RP experience ever: Hard to pick. I've been in a lot of different rp communities and most of them have ended up eventually melting down over some OOC drama and it sucks every time.

Fluff, angst, or smut: Any and all as long as its interesting! (and tbh I'm kind of a sucker for domestic fluff even when its not.)

Most overused FC: I don't engage with the concept enough to know.

First character you ever made: God I don't know. I was making characters years before I ever started rping and I can only remember a fraction of them.

Worst character you ever made: If we're talking in terms of personality and morals then its probably my version of Beelzebub. The man responsible for Colin's birth and childhood is pretty up there too, but he at least had an (arguably) noble goal when he set out, he just lost it in the ends justify the means thinking.

Favorite type of plot: I love long term slowburn shit (not just in terms of shipping) that builds up on stuff established in previous threads over time. In terms of themes I really enjoy taking two characters where at least one of them is initially distrustful and having their relationship build into friends or lovers.

At what time of day is your writing the best?: In terms of actually putting things together, mid day. in terms of coming up with little tweaks that elevate what I've previously written? Just after I go to bed unfortunately.

Are you anything like your muse?: Oh for sure. A lot of my characters get little bits and pieces of my personality through osmosis, and Colin got more than most. In particular one thing I drew heavily on when writing him was how growing up with autism made it really difficult to relate to a lot of the experiences my peers were having, and while he is probably not autistic, he experienced a similar thing due to his condition.

Worst thing about RP (in general or on Tumblr): Imposter syndrome. I will spend like two hours writing up a starter or a reply and think I really cooked with it and then my partner will respond with something that feels like it just completely blows my stuff out of the water. I have to constantly remind myself that if someone is choosing to rp with me it means they probably enjoy my writing.

To end on a good note — best thing about RP?: Meeting people with similar interests and getting to see all of your writing (and especially worldbuilding for those who have it, please share your worlds with me I want to learn about them!!!). So many people here are super talented and creative and it's a joy to get to write with you all.

Tagging: Anyone who sees this and wants to do it!