#he definitely put norm through it

[dirtytransmasc]

I have this HC for spider that I need to get out of my skull.

he was a cuddly baby. like, you could hold him, snuggle, even nap with him all day without a single complaint. he soaked up any and all physical affection he could.

now this isn't to mistake him with a sleepy baby, no no, he was something much more dangerous; he was the type of baby that would trick you into holding him all day, basically hiding his energy,, until you go to put him to bed, and he's up and running loops around you for hours.

basically, he was the perfect cuddle buddy, but he was also a ticking time bomb, because its so hard to tell when he needed to be held and given down time/a nap (cause he was god awful if he was over tired), when he just going with being held, and when he just wanted to be held (against the better judgment of his sleep schedule).

[orcelito]

imma b real im gonna have to be putting some trigger warnings on the Legato introduction chapter lmfao

[fractallogic]

FIREFOX WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM LATELY

my dude you can't be making my computer crash when I only have like 20 tabs open. that's rookie shit!

anyway my computer crashed right before the interview ended and too much memory was going ... somewhere ... for me to get R running right and they didn't tell me it was going to be a case study project thing that I'd be doing today instead of just a normal interview and AAAAAA.

maybe tomorrow I can just be fucking normal because oh my god. this is too stressful.

also my desk chair is starting to just. randomly. drop down very slowly. which means that at some point sooner than I want to I'll have to get another one. which SUCKS. but FINE. GOD.

[valvewall]

Bakugo as your pro hero!boyfriend... would be interesting, he's horrible at showing he cares but one thing is for certain. This man loves to show you he cares via Acts Of Service. Cooking for you, making your bed when he sleeps over, anything to show you he cares. Just, don't expect him to do much PDA around others despite that.

He's definitely a double texter, and it gets worse when he's anticipating a text from you. After so many horrible things happening to him and his friends, he's scared if you're not in his sight some villain will go after you and steal you from him. Sending you messages after leaving work to check in on you during the day, and instead of sending you long paragraphs, he'll send multiple. He's not 'cheesy' (he's lovesick for you.)

The first year into dating him, and it's already decided in his mind that he's going to marry you. Scrolling through Pinterest looking at ring ideas for the two of you, debating in his mind if you should get matching ones or personalized set. Meanwhile you're curled up on the other side of the couch, trying not to fall asleep to the movie you had picked out just a few minutes prior.

Coming home late was a norm if you two had planned a sleepover, as his pro-hero work often required him to do overtime. Whether it be paperwork or a mission. Usually it never bothered him, he would always end up laying in your arms at the end of the night anyways.

When the relationship would first start, he'd be very insecure, of you and himself. He would put you on such a high pedestal that he thinks he'll never reach your level of greatness. Thankfully, after advice from his close friends and therapist, he learns ways of how to slowly but surely get better at handling his insecurities.

The relationship will need to have a lot of uncomfortable conversations and ability to give the other space when they need it. Katsuki as he got older, despised getting angry and facing his problems before thinking about it. If he has a problem, he gives himself a week to think of how to decide on how he wants to approach it.

He loves you so much, however. Willing to put everything and anything on the line to just keep you safe and loved.

[loriache]

Butch up that Elf: my Marcille manifesto

TBQH, this came into being because the Falin "dragoness" fanart rewired my brain completely. It's sillytimes, but we're going to make a serious argument: trying out being a little butch would Fix Her.

1. Marcille Gender Discomfort

Now, Marcille LOVES feminity. She loves playing dressup, she loves elaborate gowns, she spends her free time going to the spa - the absolute last thing I want is to deny that. However, there's also a definite vibe that this isn't just a preference. Specifically, the way that she pushes Falin towards femininity suggests that she isn't comfortable with gender nonconformity in the people around her.

If this was something she was 100% confident about ("I'm doing this for myself and nobody else!") surely what other people do wouldn't be a big deal? Of course, you can read this as a little bit of solipsism; "what works for me must work for you too! I think this is so cute and would suit you - wouldn't you agree?"

But for the sake of this argument, all I'm trying to suggest is that gender nonconformity (and probably sexual nonconformity... well, frankly, any kind of sexuality at all) is unlikely to be something that's on Marcille's "radar". She hasn't tried out other ways of presenting and decided she doesn't like them. I do think she'd be a very flamboyant butch - "ouji lolita" vibes, you know? It's a whole new set of wardrobe options she could play dress-up in, even.

After the story ends, she starts dressing like her mother in all black, which makes sense - her mother was also a court magician, so she's probably emulating her in order to project confidence and authority. But I can't say I think she should stick with this. Break away and be your own person, Marcille! Try a fancy waistcoat and frilled jacket!

2. Haircut

This is another potential hard sell, I'm sure. The people she loves doing her hair is a cute symbol of their care for her, and her hair is key to her magic - so there's plenty of reason for her to keep it long. But like... think practically. Having someone do your hair every morning, for the whole of her long life, while it gets messier over the day (because she can't remember to keep it neat)... That's got to be such a pain. My hair gets messy when I put a hoodie on. And I have short hair.

It would require her to go through a change of mind, and probably a little more growth in how secure she feels in her relationships, but - the hairdo's a symbol. The more important thing is the relationships themselves. Eventually I think there might be something liberating about cutting it off, even if she might eventually decide to grow it out again.

The lion, her trauma, took something away from her which was really important to her. The people around her are able to make that easier, and make up for it, and soften that loss, but... Mithrun isn't the person he was before, you know? He's a new person. The relationship he has with his brother is new, and I don't know if it's one that the person he was before could have had. If Falin hadn't died, they wouldn't have gone on that wonderful adventure! They wouldn't have met Senshi or saved Izutsumi and Laios and Marcille wouldn't have gotten so close. So I think it's totally congruent with the themes of the story that the burning away of this part of Marcille's self might eventually create the potential for new growth in a new direction, not clinging onto the parts that are gone.

This also isn't totally out of the norm for elven mages - both Otta and Flamela have short hair. Otta is canonically butch, and potentially Flamela reads that way to elves too, but the point is it clearly is possible to be an accomplished mage without long hair.

3. Desiring (to be) a chivalrous prince

Marcille's succubus is clearly General Halleus from her favourite book series, the Daltian Clan. The fact that this is her ideal man.... it certainly plays into readings of her as Not Straight. But at least, this conveys the way her conception of sex and romance is strongly idealised, dissociated from the bodily and from physical desire.

There are many ways to interpret that, including thinking about what types of desire this fixation is obstructing because she is not comfortable with it, but I am going to focus here on what this desire does signify. She likes the trappings of courtly romance, and is clearly comfortable putting herself in the role of the princess, being taken away on a white horse by a noble (but tormented; eyepatch has "death" on it lmao) prince. (Though I think he's actually the token male lead who isn't royalty; he's a General. There's always one in Romfan, lmao. IYKYK)

A kiss on the hand - this is so chaste, I think it's clear it's more about desire to play a role in a dynamic than it is about desire in a physical sense. There is undoubtedly a big part of Marcille that wants to be a beloved and chased-after princess, but I think it isn't at all impossible that she'd also enjoy being the powerful, cool, and chivalrous "prince" to someone (a pretty girl, perhaps) who needs her protection.

This is a little silly, because it's clearly just aping the shoujo artstyle that articulates basically the same idea as her succubus, that Marcille is attached to highly abstracted and idealised romantic (and Romantic) tropes and ideas. But the imaginary "successful" Marcille from chapter 4 looks quite similar to her succubus. (Another thing I noticed is that in the fantasy she has sharp ears... like full elves have. Despite what she says, I think the cultural messaging that this trait is "attractive" and hers are inferior got to her at least a bit. 😥)

Also, the way that she treats Falin, scolding her indulgently, trying to look after her and wanting to be looked up to and respected by her... that aligns more with the "masculine" role in the trope that her succubus is referencing. "What are we going to do with you...?" I can imagine her saying this to Falin, word for word. Whereas, if anyone real started talking down to her, even affectionately, I don't think she'd like it, given the negative way she reacts when people don't respect her or her skills. Especially after canon, given the way the Winged Lion was treating her.

Her attitude to Falin is partially down to her reluctance to acknowledge Falin as an adult, who is independent and can grow beyond her and leave her behind. But I think even as they move on from that unhealthy dynamic, Marcille is still going to get pleasure from feeling capable, reliable, able to look after and protect Falin. She'd like to pull the chair out for her in a restaurant on a date, you know?

4. Conclusion

Even after the growth she goes through during the story, there are parts of Marcille's character that are very much obstructed. Romance, sexuality, and gender, feel like one of those to me. The way that her discomfort with the messy origins of food betrayed a deeper, more significant discomfort with the cycles of life and death.

Much in the same way, I'd argue that the simplified, idealistic, and safely fantastical way that she views romance, as well as her very "safe" gender presentation and tendency to push it onto others as well, suggest an underlying discomfort in her own gender and sexuality. The character growth she goes through leaves her in a place where it may be possible to safely re-evaluate her relationship with Falin, as well as her choice of clothing and hairstyle, both things that go through a change at the end of the manga. Neither, I think, reach a sustainable stopping point that we see - there will be a point when it's more servants doing her hair than friends, just out of practicality, because they're all going to be so, so busy. The black clothing to copy her mum is cute, but once she gets some more self-confidence in her own skills as a court magician, I think she'll move on from it. And... who knows what direction her relationship with Falin will develop, over the years? I'm rooting for them, anyway.

In all those cases, I think moving outside of the things she's done before, into something really different from the things that are "safe" and expected, will be the most rewarding path for her. Like in the dungeon, things that she would initially reject were actually able to sustain her and broaden her tastes. She loves dressing up, looking after people, and "princely romance". So I say: Butch Marcille! It'll be good for her!!

[visionsofmagic]

◜ mk1 men when they get hard in public because of you ◞

▸ characters: bi-han, liu kang, tomas, johnny cage, syzoth ◂

▸ tags: drabble, nsfw, possession, dominance, submission, invisibility, semi-public (kinda), pet names, & more! couldn’t help myself and wrote about mk1 men once again. enjoy! ◂ ▸ m.

BI HAN doesn’t like it even a bit. he’s not a weak man, and he shouldn’t be - has to stay still, calm, and steady in every situation, yes, he can let his anger go from time to time but except for it, he can’t let any feelings go away from his palms, to appear, to control him.

yet, here he is, leaning against the wall, watching you from behind as you train alone in the lin kuei’s training area - bending over, showing every curve of your body, with no shyness and no holding back even though you know he’s right there! he knows you tease him, that you don’t pay attention to him intentionally while doing every position you can as naughty as you can.

hands crossed across his chest, face is covered with his mask - doesn’t give away how he breaths deeply whenever he holds himself from going to your side and fucking you right there - in the middle of lin kuei, making everyone watching you.

the bulge is visible through his black and blue armored suit, but, he doesn’t give a damn fuck about it. contrary to that, he enjoys having it because after a moment, when he is done with your teasing, he picks you up, takes you into his room, and pushes you into the bed as he hovers upon you - lust and dominance rising within him as well as the coldness that he’s body creates on its own because of how you made him turn on in the public, breaking his norms, making him weak. he has to punish you for that.

putting your hand on his crotch, he makes you feel how turned on he is.

“do you feel it? it’s because of you. acting so bratty in front of me, making me watch you, giving me a fucking bulge. you made me have it in public. you have no idea how much it pissed me off - such a greedy brat. will teach you a lesson then, maybe you will learn how to only open your legs wide when you’re alone. if you don’t obey, I will fuck you in front of everyone. as your grandmaster, it’s my responsibility to make sure you act accordingly to the rules.��

LIU KANG has great stability, never showing his true feelings, keeping his face straight except for two things; one, rolling his eyes whenever johnny’s ego goes high, and two, you.

he can’t help it - he tries though, believe it, he tries his best yet you break every wall he has as staying calm and unreadable. to others, he is still unreadable but to you, he isn’t because you see him purely and entirely unlike others, and you know how to push his buttons - the god of fire himself by acting so innocent while showing him your dirty side.

it doesn’t matter what you do to become dirty; from holding your window wide open when he passes by and taking your clothes off, to simply putting dishes on the table in front of him while sitting with others as well, bending over to him so lower that he can see the sight of your breasts - wearing no bra, and even winking at him.

he talks little in those moments, watching you from the corner of his eyes, pushing the desire to fuck you on that table down, waiting until everyone leaves, holding you by the wrist, pulling you onto his lap, making you feel his hardened cock on your ass.

whispering into your ear, his hands travel your body.

“you know how to push even a god’s buttons, princess. but making it in public? oh, you need to learn not to do that, or, I will make sure that you won’t do it again by fucking you on this table where anyone can see. now, let me take you to a more special place. you should take care of my cock after all, with these pretty breasts you showed me.”

TOMAS will definitely try to hide it right away, a bit shy, yet dirty thoughts rushing into his mind when he sees you training - having a little cloth on your body; a bra, and a mini shorts, your body is entirely visible to his eyes.

he knows he shouldn’t take it as an attempt to make him turn on but he realizes your intentions turn from innocent ones to evil when you see him looking at you directly, gulping, a hand stays on his lap, hiding the bulge underneath his clothes, face full of heat because of not having his mask on.

he avoids your eyes immediately, looking at you from the corner of his eyes in a shy way, staying still on the chair he’s sitting on and trying to pay attention to other trainers when he sees you coming to his side, kneeling down - hands on your knees, you ask what’s wrong and from the way you speak, he understands that you’re being a brat.

however, even though he is shy, he doesn’t stop himself from being as needy as you.

“I know what you’re trying to do, yet, it will not create a difference. trying to break me in public is something and you achieved it, I am so turned on that I fantasize about you in ways I shouldn’t have in public. but who I am to blame when you’re being so greedy for me? don’t worry though my goddess, being a good lover for you, I will do my best to fuck you good enough after we get back to our room that you will see your effects on me.”

JOHNNY CAGE will not try to hide it, not even for a second. he doesn’t care about what other people would think when they see a bulge rising under his pants, or how he puts his hand on it, caressing it under the table when he’s sure no one is looking, a smirk on his face as he watches you dance on the floor, giving him a goddamn show - you move your body so beautifully, only for his eyes to see, it makes him turn on the moment you take glances to his direction.

he can see you try not to alert others while showing off your body to him while dancing.

he will say ‘damn’ and drink his favorite liquor, watching you with pleasure, saying ‘it’s nothing’ when others ask what he’s talking about.

when he has enough, he will join you on the dance floor. under the dark lights and in the corner he chooses - less crowded, he puts his hand on your abdomen, pulling your body to his.

back touching his chest, you let his other hand grips your inner thigh under your dress, lip touching your ear as he says with a playful and cheerful voice, pushing his lower part onto your ass so that you can feel how hard he is full.

“feel it, princess? see, this is you making me go so hard in a fucking place like this, in front of everyone, by just dancing. such a naughty little girl you are for me, showing off your skills. ohh, pretty lady, you have no idea how I want to fuck you in one of the guest rooms - oh, and you know what - for this ass, will sure do it. come here, gotta go, you should pay for what you have done to me.”

SYZOTH turns invisible right away when he has enough, getting up from where he sits, eyes not leaving yours as he finds a corner and becomes invisible.

no one can see him - only you who chuckles at his lack of self-control when it comes to you, especially when you make his mind go crazy in the middle of a meeting with others. having no actual job, you just mind your own business until you see how syzoth watches you from a distance, eyes never leaving you as you eat a very juicy fruit, licking your fingers to clean them, slowly, showing how skilled your tongue is which was on him and his entire body, including his cock, a night before as you look up to his heat rushed face, chuckling at him seductively, making him feel submissive yet dominant at the same time.

when the memories rush into his mind, he finds only escape in being invisible but he knows you shouldn’t get away with that so easily, so, when others pay attention to other things and you stay alone, he stays behind you as you sit. then, he slowly appears, dick that is hard enough to be felt through the fabric of his clothes touching your back. he holds your shoulders, kneeling down, he whispers to your ears.

“I see that you didn’t have enough of me last night or you just did all of that to make me go crazy, wanting to eat you alive in front of everyone and staying invisible while doing it. oh my pretty lover, if you keep doing this, it will be the only option for me to make you regret having me hard in here, where anyone can see it. maybe, I will not wait for you to act behaved and fuck you right here, now. hm? what you say, my goddess?”

💚

[bangchansnudes]

baby

fuckboy!hyunjin. 1.6k word. cliched enemy to lovers(??) with a douchebag hyunjin.

“don’t tell me you’re scared of some fake gore,” the boy whispers over to you, followed by a mocking chuckle, “need me to protect you baby?”

“shut up.”

“baby.”

“shut-”

“can you both shut up and just watch the damn movie?” seungmin says from his sitting position on the floor, his head turning back to glare at both you and hyunjin on the couch, “i swear if i need to pause it again, i’m throwing both of you out in the cold!”

if it weren’t for the fact that your roommate was dating seungmin, you would never ever interact with someone like his best friend, hwang hyunjin, let alone let him into your apartment.

but unfortunately for you, the two were the ultimate besties which meant where one boy went, the other usually followed. that’s why it had become a norm for the four of you to hang out. like right now, a weekend movie night.

you really didn’t mind seungmin, the boy was nice and treated your roommate well but hwang hyunjin was a whole other story.

hwang hyunjin. sigh. the boy was the literal definition of a fuck boy. an obnoxious frat boy who flirted his way through every living thing in a skirt. yeah, that was a way to describe him.

at first, hanging out with him wasn’t all that bad. you actually didn’t mind him either, the boy was somewhat funny and that face of his was just absolutely breath taking. one of the many reasons why he was so popular around town.

but then he began treating you differently, for some reason. he’d go out of his way to annoy you, to insult you, to tease you. he seemed to suddenly hate you and he made sure to let you know that.

and it had been hell since.

“i’m gonna make more popcorn,” you get off the couch and head towards the kitchen, sighing at the thought of having to spend the rest of the night with hyunjin. classes had already been hell for you so the last thing you needed tonight was a screaming match with the fuck boy.

“don’t do too much thinking, your small brain might explode.”

that voice. that god awful voice.

you turn around to see the devil himself leaning against the kitchen entrance, arms crossed over and a smug grin on his stupid handsome face.

“what? cat got your tongue babe?” he makes his way over to you, cornering you in against the kitchen cabinet, “or have you finally fallen in love with me?”

“fuck off hwang,” you push at his chest but the boy doesn’t budge, only laughing at your weak move, “i’m not in the mood to deal with your shit.”

“what do you have against me anyway?” he leans in closer to you, both his hands now resting on either sides of you on the cabinet, “is it cause i’m so good looking and so popular?”

gulp.

this has to be the closest you’ve ever been to hyunjin, his face barely even an inch away from yours. the smell of his cologne is attacking you from every direction, a very clear indication that he was way into your personal space than necessary.

“no hwang. i hate you because you’re so obnoxious and so self centred!”

“oh really?”

“yes!” your hands push up against his chest again as you say so, preventing the boy from coming any closer to you, “you think everything is about you! just because all the girls on campus wants to fuck you, doesn’t mean you can be such a douchebag all the time!”

perhaps you were crazy but you swear you could see his gaze move from your eyes to your lips as you spoke, the boy clearly not paying any attention to your words. you’re not sure why he’s suddenly so quiet, why he’s not throwing insults at you but the way he’s staring is making you more nervous than ever.

you try to avoid his weird, intense gaze by moving away but the boy stays put, his arms on either sides of you seemingly sliding closer to your body instead.

“mo- move-”

“do you wanna fuck me?”

“what the fuck hyunjin?”

“you said every girl on campus wants to fuck me right? well do you wanna fuck me?”

“of course not!”

“well that’s really too bad,” he scoffs, a playful grin on his face as his hands grab onto your waist, holding you in place, “cause i wanna fuck you though.”

your mouth is frozen, your mind unable to process the words that had come out of his mouth. maybe you were just hearing things because there was no way he had just said what he said to you.

the boy who had made your life a living hell these past two months wanted to what? fuck you?

“you... what?”

“i said, i want to fuck you,” his grip on you tightens with every word, fingers now gripping so harshly into your skin that you’re certain marks will appear by tomorrow morning, “and if you don’t tell me to stop, i am going to kiss you right now.”

gulp.

“th- this isn’t funny. let go.”

you let out a squeal when he suddenly lifts you up onto the cabinet and moves to stand in between your dangling legs. his body is now comfortably pressed against yours, his arms tightly around your waist while yours are resting on his shoulders. it’s a position you wouldn’t have ever imagined you’d be in with him but here you are and you’re not pushing him away either.

“does it look like i’m trying to be funny?” his lips brushes past yours just slightly as he says so, a move you would’ve surely punched him for but at this moment, you don’t know how to react.

so many things are running through your mind, so many different potential reasons as to why he was suddenly acting this way.

“too late baby.”

and his lips were on yours before you could even respond, kissing you with so much force that your bottom lip immediately hurts. the boy is evidently desperate, wanting to taste more of you than just the surface.

his hands casually slides underneath your shirt as he continues to kiss you, causing an instant shiver through your body from his touch alone. you feel as though your body is on fire, every part of you screaming to be touched, to be pleased.

he moves away from you slightly after a bit, just enough for you to catch your breath again. he doesn’t take his eyes off of you the entire time, the intensity of his gaze only causing an embarrasing pool in between your legs. in addition to the pool that was already there during the kiss.

“if you just want to get your dick wet, well you’re not getting shit from me hwang.”

lies. you know for a fact that one more move from the boy and you’ll probably end up on your knees if he told you to.

but he didn’t need to know that.

“actually i’ve been trying for two months but you’re too fucking dense to notice,” he rolls his eyes at you, clearly annoyed, “why else would i spend every single weekend here? you think i really want to watch shitty b grade movies with the lovey dovey couple?”

“wait... what?”

“i flirt with you every single time! as if you really didn’t know!”

“being a dick is your way of flirting?” you make a disgusted face and slap his chest, “how on earth do you get girls everyday being this way?”

“well i haven’t had a girl in two months because the one i want is oblivious as fuck.”

silence.

...

more silence.

“well- well... i-”

“just shut up,” he smashes his lips onto your onces again, this time kissing you in a way that had your knees weak and your body feeling like mush. it’s a slow and sensual kiss, as if the boy is taking his time with you, wanting to feel every part of you.

you end up whimpering into the kiss when one of his hands moves to trace the thin lining of your pants, his fingers teasingly slipping past the band. but to your dismay, that’s all he does.

“hyunjin...”

“yeah baby, i’m right here.”

“oh. my. god,” you and hyunjin immediately freeze at your roommate’s sudden gasp, only to see her and seungmin standing at the entrance, completely disgusted, “i knew you guys would’ve ended up fucking one day but PLEASE not in my kitchen. PLEASE.”

“i told you dude. should’ve just confessed instead of giving me a headache for the past two months,” seungmin sighs dramatically before pulling your roommate away, “whatever, we’re going out. you guys play nicely.”

and the two are gone as quick as they appeared, leaving you and hyunjin alone in the apartment. no one says anything for a while but you don’t care. all you wanted to do was hide in a hole forever after being caught by your roommate and seungmin.

with a sigh, you decide it’d be best for you to get off the cabinet but hyunjin stops you.

“ah- i’m not done with you yet,” he says sternly, holding you in place, “we have a lot to talk about.”

“talk?”

“yeah like where you want me to take you on our first date.”

“who said i’d date you?” it’s your turn to scoff now, amazed at the boy’s confidence, “you wish hwang.”

“who you trying to fool? you were about to let me fuck you right here in this kitchen babe, so i’m pretty sure you wouldn’t say no to a date.”

“hwang hyunjin!”

“yeah baby, i’m right here.”

end.

​2024 © bangchansnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

[robertpattersonsleftcoochieflap]

Xiao & Wanderer Anatomy headcannons

Warnings; non-human anatomy, minor body horror (?), NSFW

Xiao ♡

Do not let an adepti's humanistic appearance fool you; They are built completely differently to humans.

On the outside, an adepti can make themselves look relatively human if they so choose. Though they're not hard to spot due to their unnaturally beautiful appearance and intricately made outfits.

If one looked at Xiao hard enough, they'd definitely start to notice his non-human features -- For example; his pointed ears, teeth and nails.

Upon closer inspection, they'd notice his sharp, cat-like irises and lack of pores on his skin. His completion is completely clear of imperfections -- a sign of his above-human nature.

If one removed Xiao's clothing; that's where they'd notice the difference. Adepti do not have nipples or belly buttons -- they have no need for either.

Xiao, of course, knew what they were. He'd been around for a very long time and had observed humans throughout the years -- both clothed and unclothed. He never found them particularly attractive; until you came along.

Xiao finds himself enjoying suckling on your nipples, rubbing and tweaking them between his fingers. He finds them infinitely more exciting than his own flat, bare pectorals.

He does, however, enjoy when you mouth at his chest. He gets an almost phantom feeling of you suckling on his nipples. Nothing makes him wetter.

Another difference in his anatomy is what lies between his legs.

Adepti are not bound by gender and are ever-changing in their forms to suit their needs.

Xiao cares little for human societal norms and finds them rather confusing. Most humans he comes across instinctively refer to him as a male -- which he doesn't particularly mind. But he is also not completely sure what it is about himself that causes them to assume that's what he is. Perhaps it is his voice? His flat chest? He has seen human males naked and knows that what is between his legs is much more similar to that of a human female.

Xiaos form - the one he was 'born' into - is that of a bird. He takes on many traits and behaviours of a bird; such as nesting and collecting trinkets he finds on his travels.

Many millennia ago, Xiao once had great turquoise wings. They were magnificent. Large and powerful. Unfortunately, they were taken by his old master and he still bares the scars on his back from them to this day. They ache and pain him from time to time.

Xiao is particularly protective of his nest. He spent many years crafting it, using only his best materials for it. Being invited into it is a great honor only bestowed to his closest friends (Zhongli) and you - his mate.

Wanderer ♡

The Wanderer was a puppet built by the electro-archon herself. Crafted with care by skillful hands. Only to be discarded in the end.

Wanderer's body was sculpted in the image of the electro archon. Infused with ancient technology and pure elemental power. Despite all this, he is built much like a human.

Wanderers' body is pristine and perfect. He bares not a single scar or blemish. His skin is cold to the touch and he has a much higher tolerance to the temperatures; though he seemingly is able to taste things to a much higher degree than a human can, making him overwhelmed by strong flavours - causing him to prefer things with a subtle taste, such as tea.

Wanderers body had gona through many changes over his years at the fatui. He'd been taken apart and put back together. His parts broken and replaced.

Contrary to the belief of many. Wanderer did feel. He had the same amount of feeling as a human would; perhaps even more. He felt both pleasure and pain the same. Though he was much more used to the feeling of pain.

Wanderer finds himself enjoying the feeling of being held and touched with gentleness. He is so used to being treated roughly by most because they know they can just piece him back together; he enjoys the feeling of being fragile. It makes him feel like he is important and cherished by you.

Do not mistake this as a weakness though. It took him a very long time to appreciate your touch and the pleasure that comes with it. He may act like he doesn't care for it in front of most, but he is always in some sort of physical contact with you; whether it be brushing up against you, feet touching under the table or simply placing his hand over yours when nobody's looking.

Wanderer is beautiful and he knows it. Throughout the years his beauty has deceived people into thinking he was weak. How wrong they were.

Back in his 'youth'. When he had longer hair - he found himself frequently referred to as a woman. Not that he particularly cared. Humans were fickle creatures and he thought their obsession with labeling each other was foolish. Gods were above such things; as was Wanderer.

Nowadays, Wanderer finds himself to be referred to as a man. He finds that with the title of being a male; people are more likely to take him seriously. He can't say he completely understands why either and finds it odd as he has experienced life living as both.

He noticed the change in pronouns once he'd decided to cut his hair short. He didn't understand why his hair was the deciding factor for people when they determined whether or not he was a male or female. Wanderer knew the difference in anatomy between human male and females. Human males had a flat chest an extra appendage, which he did not himself have and human females had larger breasts and a slit between their legs. If wanderer were to categorise himself, he'd probably say he fits into both - but he's not going to do that because he does not care enough to.

During his time with the fatui, the doctor had done many unnecessary experiments on him. One included giving him a penis. Dottore claimed it was what 'men' had and since he's fronting as a man, he should have one. Wanderer disagreed. After experiencing having a penis for himself, he quickly decided it was inconvenient and that whatever he had in his pants didn't define him. He's a god after all. Not long after he was given back his rightful genitals that were taken from him.

While the wanderer's body is pristine and modelled in the likeness of a human, some areas are a dead giveaway that he is not human. Wanderer's back is rarely seen, always covered in the thick material of his clothes. That is because they hide his most sensitive areas beneath them - his access points.

Along Wanderer's back are connection points for tubes and power sources. While Wander doesn't need to be powered manually anymore with the help of his visions elemental power, he still has the ports that were once used to power him. There are 4 small ports on his back and 1 on the back of his neck. His neck is by far his most sensitive place with it also being the area he bares his electro sigil. He comes undone at the lightest touches of them. They are by far one of your favourite things about him - teasingly circling the holes on his back with your finger is one of your favourite things to. A way to get him instantly worked up.

Wrote this after i took my painkillers so i hope this makes sense. Lmk if anyone wants any scenarios involving these headcannons.

Enjoy.

[sflow-er]

So many thoughts on the fabulous Barbie film, but especially on how anyone who thinks it’s “hateful towards men” clearly isn’t getting the message.

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

[Credit for both gifs goes to their makers!!]

I mean... Ken’s arc is secondary to Barbie’s, and rightly so. This is her film, and her message deserves to be the main takeaway.

That being said, I just find it really sad that the people who could’ve definitely used the point of Ken’s arc just let it go right over their heads. Maybe it’s because they aren’t great at reading subtext, or because they just balk at anything presented as feminist, I don’t know.

Because to me, Ken’s arc is about as far from “hateful towards men” as you can get. It’s a multi-layered depiction of how restrictive, outdated views of masculinity can hold men back and make them susceptible to harmful ideologies that promise easy solutions for all their problems but only make those problems worse and hurt others around them.

The first layer is an allegory for real men don’t show their feelings. In the movie, this is represented by Ken’s need to look tough and cool all the time, and to keep his insecurities and sadness bottled up. Barbieland is a utopia where being happy is a social norm, and the main Barbie also starts to struggle with that. The difference is that she eventually tells her friends, and they all support her. Ken just puts pressure on himself not to look weak - in front of Barbie, or in front of the other Kens.

Which brings us to the second level: a competitive and inherently hostile view of the other Kens, aka. toxic male relationships. Some of them are friends, and all of them work together for a while to build the Patriarchy, but they don’t actually bond for real. Even their boys’ nights are mainly about getting back at the Barbies for all their girls’ nights (which really were about bonding). When push comes to shove, the Kens still see each other as competition, which is one of the reasons why the Barbies are able to play them against each other.

Another reason is the third layer: the idea that Ken only has value if Barbie loves and admires him. It starts out as unrequited love that makes you feel sorry for him...until he turns bitter. He basically starts on the path that could lead him down the incel/mra rabbit hole and into a mindset where Barbie owes him love and admiration and the relationship he wants in exchange for his devotion to her. He decides that everything would be better if Barbies were subservient to Kens, but of course that’s not true. None of the Barbies’ newfound admiration for their Kens is real, and his own Barbie still rejects him.

All this is of course underpinned by the final layer, which is Ken’s lack of self-respect and sense of purpose. He’s got a pointless job, he’s not particularly qualified for anything, and he just feels kind of lost in Barbieland - a society run by successful Barbies who are living up to their full potential. That’s why he gets so caught up in the idea of the Patriarchy, which is supposed to make him successful, get others to respect him, and give him a sense of purpose. (This can be generalised to all kinds of harmful ideologies in the real world, e.g. the alt-right movement.)

However, the success he achieves is superficial and not based on any real passion; he even admits that he wasn’t happy in his new position and already lost interest in the ideology. The (forced) respect of others does feel good for a while, but it only goes so far. At heart, the whole thing is still mostly about his feelings of inferiority and unrequited love for Barbie, and instituting this harmful new system did not resolve those for him.

So what does? In essence, breaking out of all these harmful patterns and internalising the idea that he is enough.

He ends up reflecting on his feelings, finally puts them to words (or rather, song and dance), and manages to connect with the other Kens through those feelings. He even cries in relief and acknowledges that it doesn’t make him weak. He and Barbie finally have a proper talk, he lets go of their (non-)relationship, and he listens when she says he needs to figure out his real self. He starts to see himself not through his job, his girlfriend, or even his competition with the other Kens, but as just Ken, who is enough.

I honestly can’t think of a less hateful message to send men and boys.

[yazmarina]

one slip (and falling back into the hedge maze)

alex albon x fem!reader

you and your best friend aren't sleeping together...right?

warnings/notes: smut, fwb setup, unprotected sex (wrap it up, friends), breeding, mild power play

a/n: there's this photo of alex making pancakes (see: fic header) and my friend and i went nuts talking about alex as your fuck buddy who takes care of you...

.

"Serious question, and don't laugh, but are you and Alex sleeping together?"

Having been in the middle of drinking, you feel the water catch in your throat despite it being, well, literally water. You cough and splutter, striking your chest with your palm to clear the liquid from your windpipe. Meanwhile, Logan laughs, slamming his hand down on the table as he watches you struggle as if all of this was oh-so-hilarious.

"What the fuck, Logan?" you demand, eyeing Logan the same way you would if he spontaneously grew another head right at this moment.

"Hey, don't blame me! George was the one that put it in my head," Logan deflects, raising his hands up as if to surrender.

"George?!" comes your incredulous reply. "Why the fuck is George speculating about me and Alex?"

Logan gives you an equally exasperated look. "He's Alex's best friend, duh. We were in the media pen together and we got talking. He said that you and Alex were being weird around each other and, in his words, not in an avoidance kind of way but in a 'they-refuse-to-be-more-than-five-feet-away-from-each-other' kind of way. It's throwing George off-kilter, or so he says."

You pause, unable to provide enough words in order to deny the accusation. Not that it wasn't true. Not when you were in Alex's room last night, his hand over your mouth while he railed you against the bathroom sink.

Logan raises his eyebrows expectantly at you.

"So? Are you sleeping together or not?"

Your throat runs dry and you fight the urge to cough again, because that's totally not suspicious at all. You muster up all the nonchalance in your body, shrugging and shaking your head as if everything you've talked about in the past five minutes was all a big misunderstanding.

"I don't know where you got that idea, Loges," you brush off.

"The two of you sit in each other's lap," Logan supplies.

"We used to do that when we were younger" you reply.

"I caught him with his hand in your back pocket the other day."

"It's a joke we have."

"Even the kisses on the cheek? The ones that might as well be on your mouth?"

You narrow your eyes at Logan. You feel your heart thundering and you're not sure if you're showing any other signs of lying. You've always been a bad liar. Your face could be a deep shade of red or you could be sweating through your shirt right now. You definitely feel every hair on your body stand on end with how nervous you are.

"Just because you don't have a friendship like ours doesn't mean you get to judge it, Sargeant," you say with a roll of your eye.

Oh, you are so fucked.

-

"George asked me the weirdest thing today."

Your head snaps up as you hear Alex exit the bathroom, hair damp and a towel wrapped around his waist. It's just after qualifying and Alex had trudged up to his room, crestfallen as was the norm for him in the last couple of races, with him being stuck in perpetual Q2. He'd given you a keycard to his room at the beginning of the weekend, telling you to come and go as you please, and you very much were pleased to wait for him after today's disappointing session.

Nothing a little blowie and a hot shower couldn't fix.

"Did he ask about me and you?" You question, stretching slowly on the bed, burrowing further beneath the sheets. Alex meets your eyes, his forehead creased.

"How'd you know?"

You shrug. "Logan asked me the same thing today."

"And? What did you tell him?" Alex presses further, grabbing a pair of his underwear from the haphazardly packed suitcase on the floor.

"Nothing. I told him he was crazy for thinking that," you say, watching as Alex drops the towel, his ass in full view.

"Is he really, though?" Alex asks, turning back to you with a smirk.

Something about the way the warm hotel lights hit his face and the way his neck is still wet from the shower makes you want to crawl right up to him and ask if you could have a repeat of last night.

"Oh yeah," you respond sarcastically, throwing the covers off of you. Alex found you in your (his) oversized hoodie when he came back from the track earlier, but you've discarded it now to reveal the skimpy pajama set you had on underneath.

"We're totally not fucking on the low like a pair of rabbits," you add, grinning as you see Alex chuck his underwear back onto the pile. He crosses the room in two strides, climbing onto the bed and effortlessly positioning himself over you.

"I hate you," Alex says, but any actual reprimand is undetected as he smiles even wider down at you. "I just showered, babe."

"Guess you'll have to keep the mess in if you know what I mean," you reply coyly, sliding your hands down Alex's torso, down his chiseled abdomen, and further to where his cock stands half hard.

You take it into your hand and start stroking, Alex drawing in a breath as he feels you squeeze along the base.

"Fuck, you mean...?" Alex asks, his own fingers creeping up beneath your pajama top.

You nod. "Fill me up, Alex. Please?"

It's the 'please' that does it for him, a low grunt escaping Alex as he attacks your lips with such ferocity the wind is practically knocked out of you.

Alex wastes no time as he yanks your shorts down your thighs, underwear already sticky due to the anticipation. You shimmy and manage to get it down to your ankles, kicking your shorts and panties off unceremoniously.

"Get naked for me, baby," Alex whispers before kissing along the side of your neck, his rough hands hiking your top up over your bare breasts. You whimper, legs hooking around Alex's hips.

You manage to get the thin camisole off, throwing it in the relative area where you think your bottoms may be. Alex automatically latches onto one of your nipples, tongue circling the rapidly hardening nub. You gasp as you feel the faintest hint of teeth graze against it.

You have no time to process much of it, though, because you feel two fingers press against your cunt, searching but quickly locating your clit before rubbing tiny circles all over it.

"You're such a good friend..." Alex teases, chuckling when he sees your eyes roll back into your head, his finger having just slipped inside you.

"...getting wet for me like this and all."

Alex adds another digit in and drags them along on your inside walls, curling and uncurling in intervals, just how you like it. You cry out when he immediately picks up the pace, giving you no time to simmer in the sensation for too long.

"F-Fuck, Alex," you whine, hips rutting in time with the movements of his hand.

"We'll get there, sweetheart," Alex reassures with a laugh and you reach up to smack him in the arm.

"You're such an idiot," you manage in between gasps of pleasure. "Just fuck me already."

Alex withdraws his fingers and you spread your legs even wider, assuming that he would heed your demand, but Alex just slides further down the bed, leveling his face with your drenched cunt.

"I said we'll get there, _______," Alex repeats, much more serious now, his eyes peeking up as he presses his mouth against your folds.

You practically quiver at the use of your name, Alex holding your gaze as he wraps his lips around your clit. Your mouth flies open and you slap a hand over the lower half of your face, afraid that any sound that comes out now will surpass the thick hotel walls.

Alex draws slow circles over the sensitive nub with his tongue, sucking and licking here and there. It takes everything in you not to thrash around with how good Alex is eating you out. Your thighs practically lock around his head and he only groans, large hands gripping them even tighter in place.

You feel the familiar knot building up, your hips rocking against Alex's face. You're getting close despite Alex just getting into it. The way he plays your body like an instrument, wills it to bend to his commands– it brings you to the edge every time. As if no other person could know your body as well as he does.

And then it disappears, Alex frees himself from your grip, lips glistening with you, your arousal all over his chin.

"Not yet," Alex orders, hiking your thighs higher, pressing them closer to your body. Without breaking eye contact again, Alex aligns himself between your legs, angling himself closer.

The first slide in is always the best. Alex hisses as he sheaths himself inside you and you let a moan rip through you, hotel neighbors be damned.

You've been waiting for this the whole day.

Alex gives a few cursory thrusts, his sounds growing louder the more he feels from inside you. You lock your legs around his hips once more, pulling him even closer.

"You better make this orgasm worth it, Alex," you taunt, pressing your forehead against Alex's.

Alex merely wraps his arms around you, pressing himself fully onto you. His hips start to hammer down on yours and you yelp, your whole body rocking with the motions of Alex's thrusts.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, biting at the taut skin before soothing it with his tongue afterward.

"You know better than to run your mouth, baby," Alex says with a soft chuckle, a contrast with how hard he's pounding into you now. All you can say in response is a garbled mix of his name and a few swear words.

A moment later, Alex pulls away, face contorted into concentration as he readjusts your legs so they lay over his shoulders, giving him an even deeper angle on you.

"Oh fuck–!"

You're cut off as Alex rams into you roughly, evidently chasing his own release now. He pushes your knees closer to your chest and you have to laugh, albeit weakly, seeing as your best friend, the one you swore you weren't sleeping with, has you in a fucking mating press.

"God, Alex, what are we doing?" You choke out, the delicious stretch between your legs building up the pressure in your abdomen.

"You tell me," Alex says before leaning down to kiss you, teeth clashing and tongues darting out frantically. You're bent into yourself in a way that you never knew possible, but here you are, spread for and debauched by none other than Alexander Albon.

Alex moans into the kiss, thrusts getting shallower by the second. Every hit of his pelvis against yours, every drag of his cock inside sends you closer to what you wanted most.

"Come on Alex, give it to me."

Finally, Alex stills, his hips snapping up one last time as he cums deep inside you. He fucks you through his orgasm and you know it's sensitive for him in the way he whines, but a few final strokes are all it takes for you to cum around Alex's cock, vision going white and your nails digging into Alex's back.

You're both panting, breath spent and bodies aching. Alex carefully extracts himself from your hold, pulling out cautiously. You groan at the sensation and he giggles, seemingly amused at your discomfort.

To his credit, Alex rushes to grab the discarded towel he was using earlier, quickly handing it to you as you feel the...remnants of him spill out of you.

"Damn, you came a lot," you comment, slipping the towel between your legs. You meet Alex's eyes and the two of you burst out laughing.

"I was saving that for you," Alex says, settling down beside you, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. Your face scrunched up as he does so but you're smiling nonetheless.

"Gross," you deadpan.

"Don't say that when my children are literally inside of you," Alex warns.

You elbow him hard in the ribs.

-

You wake up, the smell of coffee the first thing registering in your mind. You roll over and are immediately hit with the wall that is Alex's shoulder.

Alex chuckles, raising his arm up so you can crawl into his side. You groggily pull yourself against his chest, head right against his heartbeat.

"Morning," Alex whispers. You groan in reply, still too sleepy to form coherent sentences.

"I ordered you breakfast. You can go back to sleep if you want to, but I have to go in a bit," he continues and you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head.

You feel a flutter in your chest and your eyes fly open. Great.

"Thanks, Alex," you murmur, cuddling up closer to him. He doesn't say anything, his hand rubbing soothingly up and down your back.

"Love you," you add.

And you do. Love him. As a friend or as something else, you'll just have to figure out.

Alex hums, tucking your head beneath his chin.

"Love you, too."

[stsgooo]

Subconscious Reassurance.

✩࿐ summary: even the strongest has dreams he longs to be reality.

warning(s): slight 236 spoilers, shibuya incident spoilers, mentioned death, poor coping mechanisms, lovesick!gojo, girldad!gojo, as usual not proofread (it’s 2 am give me a break). wc; 3.6k

pairing(s): gojo satoru x reader

a/n: keep seeing tiktoks about the lamp story and this came to me. it’s a shortie but i just wanted to get this out. also do we prefer the colorless manga panels or the ones like the above one? i was messing with filters on picsart so lmk :)

divider 1 | previous work | ao3

SATORU ARRIVED HOME EXACTLY 7 PM.

He knew it was true because that’s the time he always arrived. There was no need to glance at the clock or question anyone around him. He knew it was 7PM.

The sun was peeking through the curtains and basking your shared home in a golden hue. Warmth enveloped his very being as he closed the front door behind him. There wasn’t a surface that wasn’t being touched by the sun, that wasn’t feeling the same feelings he did.

The sky outside was illuminated in a mixture of purples, reds, oranges, and pinks. A palate that could be implemented into his very soul and he’d smile in return.

“Daddy!”

The call was familiar and came exactly one minute after Satoru walked through the door.

Again, he didn’t need to glance, he just knew.

A smile blossomed on his lips and he crouched down to catch the little girl that jumped into his arms with a loud squeal. Her nose pressed into her cheek as she happily rambled about how much she missed him. A norm and a routine that he greeted happily with his own reassurances that he missed her infinitely more.

"Daddy," she whined, her tiny chubby fingers reaching up for his blindfold. "Can't see your eyes, daddy."

This happened every night after he arrived home. She would always frown and trace her nails over where his eyes would definitely be. Most of the time it was uncomfortable and, frankly, a little scary, but he always welcomed it with an overly dramatic gasp.

"Oh, sorry, daddy forgot!" He hooked his finger under the fabric and pulled it down to rest against his neck. Her eyes (which were his) met his and brightened considerably. "Is that better, Rie?"

Rie nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!"

Despite the aching behind his right eye, Satoru kept the blindfold off for Rie’s sake. She had always expressed her upmost displeasure for the item since she was a baby. Crying and crying until he finally pulled it off. It’d been a rough first few years trying to get used to pulling the thing off whenever he got home. But he’d grown accustomed to it.

“What’s mama up to?” Satoru asked softly, tracing his finger briefly over the bridge of Rie’s nose as she giggled.

The little girl swayed slightly in his arms. “Mama’s been working in the eating room—“ dining room, Satoru softly corrected with a smile, “—she put on on Yuki for me to watch while she worked.”

“Yuki, huh? Lucky you!” He playfully pinched her cheek which resulted in her swatting his hand with a resounding “daddy!” in protest. Satoru adjusted her on his hip and raised an eyebrow. “Should we go bother mommy?”

Like usual, Rie enthusiastically nodded in response.

Poor you.

True to his routine, he made his way from the front door towards the dining room, loudly. He left no room for you to not hear him coming him and gave you ample opportunity to prepare for his and Rie’s interruption on your precious work (he swore you were almost as bad as Nanam— …. as… as…).

The smile on his lips didn’t falter as his mind trailed away from the forgotten name. What was forgotten obviously wasn’t entirely important. He enthusiastically turned the corner, arm thrown out as Rie squealed happily as his rather jerky movements.

You were as you always were. Responsible. In your usual space occupying your rightful position.

Despite the loud (dramatic) entrance he made, you did not react in anyway. Your eyes were glued to your screen as you furiously typed away a response to whoever got on your bad side today. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. In fact, this should’ve been around the time Gakuganji of Ya— someone of higher standing emailed you something that didn’t sit right with you. Even the appearance of your amazing and rambunctious husband didn’t seem to deter you from your mission.

Satoru pouted, huffing as he peacefully placed Rie down (the girl now more interested in the TV returning to her show), and crept closer to you. Still, you did not look away.

He leaned over, his chin hooked over his shoulder as he peeked over the words you were putting out into the world. Oddly, he couldn’t read any of the screen. He tried squinting your eyes and blinking a few times— nothing. It was more reminiscent of gibberish than any Japanese he knew. None of it seemed to stay in one place and it all smashed together to create a blob.

You knew how to read and write, he knew that much. Was it something with his eyes? He doubted it. But something wasn’t—

The laptop clicked close.

“You’ve never been one to take a hint, Satoru,” you turned your head to place a soft kiss against his temple in greeting. He could feel your tiny smile against his skin. The warmth of your lips. The coolness of your silvia left behind. His chest ached. He missed— missed? “Although, I knew that before I married you.”

He pushed away the mud in his mind and turned his head, placing a peck against your lips. Strawberries. You always had remnants of strawberries on your lips. Rie’s favorite fruit.

“I think it’s one of my many charming qualities.” He hummed.

You rolled your eyes, but placed a chaste kiss against his lips once again. “Charming is pushing it.” You patted his cheek. “It’s definitely an interesting characteristic.”

Satoru pouted. “You make it sound so unappealing.”

“Well, if the shoe fits…”

He snorted in response, standing to his full height and peeking at you from over his nose. “You know, you’re not innocent either. Thought you said the TV would rot her brain, now you’re putting it on to keep her distracted?” He spared a glance to where Rie was hanging off the couch, upside down, her eyes glued to the television.

You shot him an incredulous look. “Because she’s your daughter and has the self restraint of a puppy. I needed a hour to get some things done.” You pat the top of your laptop. “Sue me.”

Satoru smirked. “I just might for emotional damages.” He gestured towards the laptop with a vague hand. “What exactly had you typing up a storm?”

There was a brief wave of giddiness in his chest when he saw the look in your eyes darken. Passion. Anger. Protectiveness. There were so many things he loved about you. Adored you for. Made him sick to his stomach whenever he thought about it.

“Well, I got an email from —— about some work in Shibuya, but I told him I already checked it out and suffered for it. Well, guess what he said? ——— and ———— suffered too so I can’t complain much. Set me off a bit, had to give him a piece of my mind and remind him what happened.”

Satoru wasn’t sure if he was having a stroke or he was just too awestruck by your beauty; but he swore that your voice simply stopped whenever you spoke names. As if your voice box couldn’t get it out. But you carried on like it was nothing. Your lips had even formed around the words that so desperately wanted to be out there, but were never uttered. You didn’t look panicked or disturbed. If anything, you looked normal. Just sipping from your capri sun that was definitely forced on you by Rie.

It was like he was the only one not hearing it.

It vaguely concerned him, but he was also Gojo Satoru. Sometimes weird things happened that had no explanation.

“But,” you continued once you swallowed down the fruit punch liquid with a twisted face. “I suppose I can’t really blame anyone for what happened. It was Halloween, we were all caught off guard. Some of us suffered for it more than others.”

Satoru, for the life of him, couldn’t recall what happened on Halloween. But he should. He had that overwhelming feeling that he really, really should.

Either way, he gave a nonchalant shrug, “Eh, my motto is that it’s always easier to forgive and forget.” He snatched the remainder of your capri sun and gave a loud slurp.

You grin, resting your chin on your cupped fingers. “I suppose so.” You eyed him warmly, then nodded to the chair next to you. Always warm. Always welcoming. “Now, what did you get up to today?”

Satoru groaned, flopping onto the seat with a creak. He placed the capri sun down to place his hands against his face. “Two specials grades in Iwate, one grade one in Kagawa, then three nasty things leeching off on the playground on the way home.” He knew he should feel exhausted. He usually did. But that day, this day, he did not. If anything, he felt well rested.

Odd.

You hum softly. “They’re overworking you, Satoru,” your tone is barely there. Your words could be missed if the house had any movement or loud noises. But it was just you and him. The soft background noises of your daughter. Always you and him. “They should recognize that you’re just a man. One day it’ll be too much. One day you’ll snap in half.”

Satoru frowned, finding the sudden shift in tone a little unsettling. “I’m the strongest, no need to worry.” He waved a passive hand in the air between you.

“I’ll always worry. It’s been my job to worry.” Your eyes moved towards Rie almost melancholic. “She’ll worry too, you know. She does worry. More than she should at 10.”

Satoru frowned deeper. “Eh…?” He blinked slowly, eyes sliding to Rie with confusion. 10? Was he crazy? Blind? Since when was the little girl sitting on the couch 10? Last he checked, she was six. It was 2012. Were you losing it on him? Was this your subtle way of telling him you’re spiraling again? “Baby, she is not—“

“I know you worry too. Think you’ve been worried about losing since the moment you got home.”

Losing? He’s never lost. Well, except those few times. But they didn’t count. Those were intentional loses.

Satoru was beginning to feel as though you both were having two different conversations. “Y/N, I’m not following.” He stated softly, eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you have to do tomorrow, Satoru?” You breezed through as if you knew where that was going. A pensive expression on your face now.

Again, he frowned, narrowing his eyes. “Tomorrow? I…Well, I’m going to Shinjuku to… to…” To…what…? What was it he had to do? He could feel it deep in his chest. That ache. That unfamiliar emptiness that made him rub over his heart softly. There was something he was missing.

“Tomorrow’s going to be romantic,” You said wistfully, eyes distant as you sighed. “Well, it’s supposed to be.”

December 24th.

December 24th. So I don’t have to remember two different dates.

How romantic.

Satoru felt his gut churn. He wasn’t sure why. He couldn’t explain it but everything felt so tight now.

“I’m not.. I don’t…?”

Why couldn’t he get words out. Why did he stare at you like that? Unmoving, unblinking? Why did his eyes collect with tears.

Why did you look so sad?

You reached out, taking his hand. It’s cold. It feels cold. Not like the usual warmth that envelopes him whenever you held him. Whenever you reached out from him.

You’re cold.

You take his hand. “Satoru, what’s happening tomorrow?”

Seriously, what is with you?

Satoru clenched his jaw. “What are you doing?” He wasn’t sure why but he felt so unnerved. He felt like he’s been disillusioned. As if his world was crumbling. But he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand.

You’re cold.

You looked briefly disappointed in his response. “You’re not well. You’re trying to appear to be, but you’re not. She worries. She’s so worried. And you know it.” Your hand reached out and cupped his cheek. Your cold thumb gently stroked against his bone, against the tears that were flowing— why was he crying?

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.” He didn’t feel tired. “I just need a nap.” He didn’t feel tired.

“Oh, Satoru, I’m so sorry,” you uttered it, barely audible. But it was enough to conjure up an earth shattering sob from his chest. A heartbroken tremble under your touch. “I’m so sorry for leaving you.”

“You’re right here?” Confusion was clear in his tone and his expression as he stared back at you.

You just smiled sadly in response.

He shook his head. “You’re right here.” He prided a finger against your chest. Firm. But cold.

You tilted your head and blinked slowly at him.

Satoru wasn’t sure why, but he took in as deep breath. Like he couldn’t quite catch it in the first place.

“You didn’t— You’re right here!” He desperately clutched onto your hand, pressing your skin against his own. “You’re right here. This-This is real. This-This is you. Please. Please, this is you.”

You only stared sadly in response.

Satoru wasn’t sure what was happening. Why he was so panicked or why he felt so terribly sad— but he knew it was making him quiver and sob. Why? Why? Why did this all have to happen to you? Of all people had you been the one to suffer?

What suffering?

“I…” He felt breathless. Feather light. He felt like he had no control of his lips or his tongue. “Tomorrow I fight… Sukuna…?”

Sukuna? Since when? When did—

“Since before Shibuya. Since before Itadori Yuji.” You answered his thoughts.

Itadori Yuji. Satoru thought that name sounded familiar. A blank face appeared in his mind, the back of a pink hair head facing him. Itadori Yuji.

He felt like he was living someone else’s life. As if he were placed in some point in space where nothing bad could touch it.

But these feelings, these tears, this ache in his chest wasn’t peaceful. It wasn’t safe from the darkness of the world.

“Nanami… Yaga… Nobara…” You uttered the names that made his ears ring. That made his muscles tense and his heart sputter to a catastrophic halt. “But still you dream of Suguru…. of me…. of the lives you desperately want to hold on to.”

Suguru… you…

Satoru’s lips quivered.

Suguru… you….

“Why?” You asked the million dollar question.

Breathless whispers against sweat slick skin. Endless touches of tense muscle. Hair hanging and tickling. Eyes sure and hardened with undoubted honesty.

Why? Satoru thought that question was dumb. Why would the earth dream to reach out for the moon and the sun?

He stared at you, big blue eyes glittering with shimmering tears. “I’m the strongest… I should’ve saved the ones I loved… I should’ve… I’m the strongest.”

To be whole. To be loved. To love.

You sigh softly. Sadly. “Satoru, you can’t save everyone.”

“But I could.”

“Obviously not.”

The words were final. Absolute. No doubt. And he supposed, a deep part of him knew, you were right.

But that other part of himself. The one that hated himself for what happened, for whatever happened, convinced him otherwise.

“You don’t—“

“Get it?” You raised an eyebrow at his blink. “I’m your subconscious. I’m your deepest, most personal thoughts. I get it.”

Satoru stared in return. “…huh?”

You pressed your lips together. “Satoru, you’re the strongest. But you don’t always have to be.” You whispered if. A nefarious secret between the both of you that couldn’t be touched. That couldn’t be shared outside of this setting. You scoot closer in your chair. You’re slotted between his legs. “There’ll come a time where you need to step back. To rest. And let those you’ve guided this far to do their jobs.”

Resting. Stepping back.

No one had ever spoken those words to him before. It was never a guarantee nor was it ever a possibility. He feared, even now, he couldn’t even dream about something like that.

Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru? Or are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest?

Years later, Satoru didn’t know what to make of his words. But Suguru had always known him better, he supposed.

Distracted, he didn’t realize you had started to card your fingers through his hair, bringing his head against your shoulder. It was a blissful moment when he came to his senses. When he felt your fingers ghost his scalp. When he felt your lips brush against his temple.

“You should take a nap, you look tired.”

The moment the words left your lips, his eyes felt heavy and he felt exhausted. He hadn’t felt tired before. He would love to sleep. But…

“What about you?” He whispered, eyes unmoving from your face. He studied the bow of your lips. The softness and warmth of your eyes. The faint blush across your cheeks. The little wrinkles on your forehead. “If I close my eyes, you’ll be gone.”

“No,” you shook your head and placed your free hand against his rapidly beating heart. “I’ll be here.”

How cliche. He wanted to say. But he would take it. He’d take and savor any moment with you.

He took in a shuddering breath. “I love you.”

“I love you.” No hesitation. No doubt. How could this be a dream? Something of his own mind? He nuzzled into your neck with a small sigh. “Take care of her.”

Take care of her.

Take care of her.

Satoru woke with a soft gasp.

He was not happy or surprised to find the ceiling of his dark room instead of the dining room.

The clock next to his bed illuminated 2AM in angry red outline. He’d been asleep for approximately 4 hours. And dreamt of you. Again.

His jaw clenched as he tried to push down the tears that threatened to spill over. You, angelic, in your rightful place typing away. That’s what you should be doing.

Instead, you were one of the first to die in Shibuya.

It’d been you, then Nanami, then Nobara, then whoever else.

She got caught up with Noritoshi in the tunnels, that Death Womb Painting kid tried to explain to Satoru when everyone else had been too distraught and nervous to reveal it themselves. She didn’t suffer.

It didn’t bring him comfort. Satoru was pretty sure it was a lie, but it still brought him no comfort.

It gave him all the more reason to make Kenjaku suffer.

December 24th.

Today was the day.

Almost two months since your death. Christmas Eve.

Satoru was pretty sure he was about to do the same. Embrace death for the sake of others.

He could look around, tell all of them that he’d win, but there was that growing inkling that this was mounting up against him. That Sukuna— Megumi— knew exactly what to do to get one up on him. He feared the unknown. The possibility this was it.

What would you say?

“Dad?”

Satoru’s eyes dragged from the ceiling and to the spot next to him.

Now 10, Rie was older and less rambunctious. But he blamed that partly on your death and his sudden sealing.

She had clung to him since he returned. Tears streaming down her face as she hugged him, begged him to never go again— she thought she’d lost him just like mama. (It’d been six years since he heard her call you mama.) And she slept in his bed. Said she couldn’t sleep otherwise. She’d curl up against him and he’d run his hands through her hair as he hummed a long forgotten lullaby to guide her to sleep.

Shoko said she needed this. Him.

Satoru knew she needed you.

“Rie, did I wake you?” He asked sympathetically.

“No,” surprisingly, it sounded like the truth. “I’ve been up.”

He frowned, “Why?”

There was a prolonged pause between them. A thick layer of hesitation passed and Satoru tensed up. What could she possibly be up for?

When he heard the small sniffle, his heart ached.

He sat up and drew her into his arms, holding her close as he pressed kisses against her head. “Hey, hey, why are you crying?”

“I don’t want you to die!” Rie sobbed immediately. “I don’t want you to fight stupid Sukuna! I just want you to stay here with me— I can’t lose you too!”

I can’t lose you too.

Satoru pressed his lips together as tears sprung to his eyes. “Rie, I’m not going to die.” Such sure words for a man who was worried over his own mortality only moments ago. Who had to be reassured by his subconscious image of his dead wife that it’s okay to lose.

Rie shook her head frantically. “No! I heard Kusakabe say you will!” She sobbed, clutching onto his night shirt with a vice like hold.

Satoru silently cursed the man as he rubbed Rie’s back. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? What does Kusakabe know anyway, the schmuck?” His poor attempt at joking fell flat, Rie only continued to cry. With a heavy sigh, Satoru pulled back, holding her face in his hands. “What do I always say, hm? I’m the strongest. I’ll get one up on him.”

Rie stared up at him and Satoru was painfully aware of how young she was. “You promise?” She uttered.

Satoru hesitated.

If he were to promise and it didn’t actually work out, who was he? Would she resent him for the rest of her life? Would she try to forget him and spit on his memory? He’d been promised many things in life by people he looked up to and every single one had been broken. Resentment festered. Trust was broken.

What kind of father was he if he—

Take care of her. She worries.

Satoru tucked some of her hair— your hair— behind her ear. “I promise.” He whispered, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead. “I promise.”

Rie clutched onto him once again. “I love you.”

No hesitation.

“I love you too.”

The worries of Sukuna and Kenjaku could wait until morning. Satoru had to focus on her now.

Take care of her.

[tarrynightss]

How they are during your pregnancy + how they are with the baby

Pairings: Jake, Quaritch, Tonowari, Tsu’tey x fem!reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, childbirth (nothing graphic), fluff

Jake Sully

With Jake the pregnancy would definitely be a planned thing. He does his best to prepare himself, talking to Norm and anyone else he can find that has a good pair of brains. He wants to know exactly what to do in every situation that might occur, even reading up on it. It’s cute and you are glad that he’s doing his best to protect both you and the baby, but after you are a few months in, you almost want to rip his head off when he asks “Does your back ache? What is your pain level on a scale of 1 to 10?” yet again.

He’s constantly fussing over you, especially when you are getting close to your due date. The regular checkups from the human scientists have your Tsahík fuming, but Jake wants to make sure all ground is covered. He’ll take all the death stares if that means you and the baby are healthy.

Jake almost starts running circles like he’s in looney tunes when the birth starts. Another Na’vi has to force him to sit down by your side, and even then his tail is constantly swatting all over the place in anxiousness.

The type to say “god damn!” when he watches the baby being pushed out, making you almost snap his hand in two.

He won’t be able to take his eye off of his child when it’s born, hugging both you and them to his chest. He’ll kiss your sweaty forehead, crying as he tells you how well you did and that he’s so proud of you.

Sorry but when the baby is a few weeks old he definitely pretends to drop it because he thinks it’s funny, earning angry hisses and swats from you.

Will constantly cuddle with the baby when you aren’t holding them, rubbing his nose against their little belly. He’ll also love squishing their cheeks together and playing with their tiny ears, having them make funny faces at you.

Gags at least once when changing a diaper but doesn’t complain, just soldiers through.

Miles Quaritch

Who gave this man another kid?!? You did, and when Miles finds out he almost drops dead. He had just kinda assumed that they had snipped his ability to reproduce away just as they had snipped his ears. Boy was he wrong.

When your stomach starts growing and your urge him to touch it, he does so with much reluctance as he’s scared he might hurt the child. The tiniest hint of movement under his hand makes his ears perk up, and he’ll bend down to lay one against your belly. Na’vi hearing is incredibly good and he hears the thrumming heartbeat of your child instantly. “Our baby,” you whisper and caress over his hair. He repeats it back to you, accepting it a little bit more.

Miles continues telling Spider that you’ve just gotten fat until finally the boy has had enough, clearly seeing that you are pregnant. He gives his dad an earful about how he couldn’t even take care of him, so why the fuck is he having another. A valid point, but Miles tries to tell both himself and Spider that that was human Quaritch, not him. The boy accepts it just because you’ve always been a motherly figure to him, but he shoots Miles glares whenever he comes near.

He does his best to take care of you but this man is not exactly used to being gentle. He’ll cuddle you and rub over your stomach and back, trying to suite your aches. Where he fumbles is when you’ve been up almost all night, puking your insides out, and he dares to complain about his sore back. SORE BACK?!! He’s sleeping on the ground after that.

Strangely enough, as the months progress the pregnancy seems to be what forms you, Spider, and Miles into a true family. Both enjoy putting their hand on your stomach and feeling the baby kick, Spider letting out an excited “wooow!” at the force every time.

Miles starts sharing with Spider the few memories old Quaritch had of him as a baby. “Your head was gigantic,” Miles tell him, staring up into the sky with a grin. Spider laughs out a no, peeking over you to see his father. You lay like this often now, side by side as a family. “Humongous,” Miles doubles down, making you all cackle.

Miles is scared when you give birth, his eyes tightly closed as he holds onto your hand. He knows he doesn’t deserve to have this after all he has done, but lord, please let you and the baby be alright. He holds his breath till finally, he hears the baby’s first cry, his eyes snapping open. Both of you cry as you cradle your child close to your heart.

Suddenly becomes an expert on how to handle babies, constantly telling Spider to be careful with this or that, barely even letting him hold the baby the first few days.

Takes pictures of your child with a leaf hat on or something and finds it absolutely hilarious.

Carries the child everywhere, strapping them to his chest like a real male wife.

Tonowari

The first child born from your union is nothing short of a blessing to him. Even when your stomach is barely noticeable, he constantly touches it and it becomes a comforting feeling for the both of you.

Parades you around in front of the clan like you are the rarest jewel. He’s so, so proud of his beautiful mate, so happy that she’s carrying his child. He wants the whole world to see.

Tonowari constantly gives you massages, not even giving your feet or back the chance to start aching. He was already big on doing so before, but now you aren’t leaving the tent before the morning massages are done.

He’s so supportive and there for you that he goes as far as to hold your hair while you puke. You can scream your hormones out at him all you want and this man will just smile to himself, noting how ferocious you look like this.

Tonowari basically is the midwife during your birth, holding onto your arms as he helps you pace your breathing. When you push he puts his forehead against yours to comfort and support you.

Holds the baby up for the others to see after they’re born, the biggest smile on his face. He won’t stop bragging about his child to anyone who will listen. Every bump or blink is worth a reward in his eyes.

Takes the baby to watch over the ocean, telling them stories about all his adventures. When the baby eventually starts being able to point, he’s absolutely delighted, following to see what their chubby finger is pointing it. Whether it’s a simple barnacle or a fish, Tonowari will tell his child in great detail about whatever peaked their interest.

Tsu’tey

Finally. He has waited so long to have his own family and he’s absolutely overjoyed when he hears the news. He’ll pick you up and spin you around while laughing and cheering, making everyone around you wonder what is going on.

Tsu’tey was always protective of you, but with the pregnancy that gets 10 times worse. He’s constantly hovering over you, never letting you go out alone in the fear you’ll get hurt. You try to assure him you’ll be careful, but that’s not good enough. Too much can happen in a blink of an eye. He simply won’t allow it.

Instantly starts collecting beads for both the baby’s songcord and for their first neck piece, though the second will still have to wait a long time to be worn. He’s just too excited, already fantasizing about all he will teach his child, all the memories they will make.

He talks to the baby every night when the two of you are alone. Tsu’tey lays his head against your belly and tells your child all about his day, but also stories about what he and you have gotten up to in the past. It’s heartwarming to you to just lay back and watch him, chuckling now and then at his words.

Tsu’tey doesn’t just hold your hand during birth, he sits behind you, holding in his lap. He breaths with you as if one, stroking lovingly over your arms and legs as he encourages you to keep going.

Love is a word not strong enough to express what he feels for your child. As soon as their eyes meet, he smiles the brightest he has ever done in his life. The baby is perfect in his eyes, a beautiful mix of the both of you.

He loves sleeping with the baby cuddled up against his chest. At first he was too scared he might crush them, but after you swore you would watch him during those little moment, he gave in. It were the best naps he’s ever had, his heart beating as one with his child. Tsu’tey hadn’t thought he would ever feel this at peace.

[scarletttries]

When Fallout Characters Fall In Love... (Fallout Show Request)

Pairings: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Reader, Maximus x Reader, Norm x Reader

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has sent in a request for the Fallout show, please keep them coming as this is definitely the show that I'm thinking about the most at the moment! Also let me know if you want a part two of these headcanons or something similar :)

The Ghoul:

- Cooper Howard couldn't put his finger on exactly when he had accepted that the life he now led would be one devoid of love, but it was a hollow feeling he carried in his chest wherever the wasteland took him. Maybe it was in the decades he'd spent wandering and gaining a reputation as a heartless cowboy without an ounce of mercy. Or the fact that he hadn't met anyone that had stirred up a single emotion inside him, fearing the aching betrayal of his wife would haunt him even as lifetimes passed. Maybe it came to him in the way he flinched each time he caught his reflection in the few unbroken windows he passed, flesh slowly forming caverns and creases where once there were only the faintest of lines that showed endless signs of life. The wasteland was no place for love. That's what he had decided.

- But even in the fall of civilization there's room for a surprise, and you were certainly one of those..

- He heard rumour of you before your bounty crossed his desk, a runaway scientist from a mysterious body known only as The Institute, a target to everyone for the sheer volume of classified knowledge you might possess.

- A life on the run was no easy one, and Cooper knew that better than anyone, so it didn't take long for him to track you down to a small town just on the outskirts of the radiation's no man's land. His gun was cocked as he strutted towards the half open door of the rundown house he'd narrowed your location down to, glancing at the poster in his hand one last time before he burst inside. Even from the poorly illustrated version of you, he could see your eyes were kind, almost hopeful, like you still believed science could make right what had gone so wrong in the last 200 years. He almost felt a tinge of guilt as he steeled himself for a fight, saying a silent prayer that you wouldn't be behind the walls in front of him.

- Stepping in carefully he expected traps, or an army of robots to jump to arms, but instead he found you travelling alone, a small satchel of papers clutched in your arms as you stared him down with a calm resolve that caught him more off guard than any weapon.

"Do you still believe there's hope for this world Mr Howard?" Your voice was soft, not the trembling fear he was so used to hearing. You stared up at him without a trace of disgust in your expression, your eyes locked on his as he considered your question, and then lowered his weapon.

"And what if I do?" His heart ached at the question, so hardened by years of cynicism that even the idea of hope and goodness were almost too heavy to bear. He felt more human than he had in years as you slowly inched towards him, the creaking floorboards beneath you cutting through a tense silence that had The Ghoul feeling like he was back on a movie set, everything so perfectly orchestrated to have his stomach in knots. And then you extended your hand to him and gave him the most genuine smile he could remember receiving in this whole sorry chapter of his after-life,

"Then I think we could really make a difference. Together." Your pip-boy screeched as his irradiated hand stretched out to reach yours, but you didn't flinch, gently squeezing the twisted flesh as you shook on what you bought felt in the depths of your souls was going to be a meaningful partnership.

- It would be a straight forward life trying to use your research to get the world back on track for there to be joy and peace again. But with The Ghoul by your side you can expect; a personal bodyguard who cares more about your safety than his own by far, a gleaming look of pride in his eyes any time you tell him which Cooper Howard film was your favourite, the slow and steady acceptance that he is still worthy of love even in his new twisted form, and Cooper being endlessly grateful that you are the person who wants to give that love to him.

Maximus:

- All Maximus had ever wanted was to be a knight of the Brotherhood. He wakes up every morning and does his best every day just to try and earn his spot in this family of welded metal and unflinching loyalty. It wasn't until you arrived on the base that he started to realise there were other ways he might form a family.

- A nearby village had been half destroyed by raiders until the Brotherhood stepped in, clearing out the violent scavengers and bringing anyone with skills they could utilise back to base for assessment. Maximus was sitting alone, nursing the most recent wounds inflicted by his so-called brothers when he watched you march in alongside two soldiers, the final evacuee of your faded community, a distance in your eyes that he felt akin with from his own home's destruction. You could feel his eyes on you before you spotted him, a rag damp with blood pressed to his nose as he sat huddled against a corrugated iron shack.

- Despite the sheer joylessness of the situation, Max couldn't stop himself from sporting a smile, waving at you like you had locked eyes across the schoolyard not some barren military base. Whatever he hoped for in that moment seemed to pay off as you waved back, a small laugh escaping your lips at the absurdity of his blood soaked grin. He watched as the knights around you escorted you to the medical tent for a check up, waiting until they left their guard posts beside you to sneak behind the off-white fabric, following some unknown instinct he'd never felt call to him before. You bolted upright where you perched on one of the medical beds as he appeared, visibly relaxing when you recognised him from outside and once again waving in his direction. His mouth worked faster than his brain in that moment, heart hammering in his chest as the words gushed out with his new found affections,

"I used to live in Shady Sands. I know what it's like to have your home destroyed, your family hurt, everything changing all at once. But you're safe here with the Brotherhood, and even if it doesn't feel like it today, things are going to be okay eventually. Also I'm Maximus and if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm, like, around all the time, and no one else really wants to talk to me so I'm probably going to be available... " He trailed off as he tried to recover what had ended up a far more embarrassing sentence than he'd hoped, his lungs burning as he realised he'd forgotten to take a breath through his whole winding spiel. But when you smiled at him any shame seemed to float away, and as you patted the bed and nodded for him to take a seat beside you, the once lonely squire suddenly felt much closer to finding a family than he had surrounded by his brothers.

- As you settle into life on the base, you and Maximus only grow closer. Expect; late nights of sneaking out of your dorm so you and Max can stare up the stars and plot your escape from this life, fantasising about what a life beyond these walls and this world could be like for the two of you, someone who has your back no matter how bad things get and how low you feel, and truly some of the most god awful flirting you will ever hear.

Norm:

- Growing up in the Vault, Norm had always been told the value of belonging to a community, and how everyone in the vault was just a big happy family. But none of that stopped Norm feeling like an outsider, like he didn't quite operate on the same wavelength as the rest of the cheerful strangers he shared his deep underground walls with. After a few of the annual exchanges between vaults, he had all but given up on hoping to meet anyone he felt he could actually feel close to.

- When his overseer father had finally decided it was his turn to continue the vault's legacy and be part of what Norm considered an archaic tradition of arranged marriages between the linked vaults, Norm couldn't have been more resistant. He pleaded for the council to reject his nomination, begging them not to force some young hopeful to be subjected to his notable lack of enthusiasm for the rest of their life in this dutiful swap, but with limited options of eligible young men, he soon found himself staring down the doors of your vault. The suit previously used by his fellow bachelors had been tailored to within an inch of its life to try and fit his slight frame, the shoulders still feeling like they hung off him, threatening to swallow him up along with ground as he watched the round door slowly start to roll open.

- He thought this whole thing was stupid and outdated, and he knew there was no way he could actually find someone to love and love him in return behind those doors, so why was his stomach so full of butterflies as slowly your face started to appear in the artificial light of Vault 33. He waited to see you throw him a false smile, going through the motions as much as he had planned to, or even a look of disappointment that he was not the man you had been picturing as the door crept open. Instead he really thought he saw sincerity in your eyes, a thoughtful understanding as he choked out his name, his stammering not going unnoticed by his sister who quietly chuckled behind him.

"It's really nice to meet you, Norm." You spoke each word with intention, like it wasn't just a rehearsed greeting but an honest confession that sent sparks flying in the air between you.

- Suddenly the pressure of matrimony didn't feel so all consuming. And maybe this system was more advanced than he had appreciated. And there might be a small chance that he wasn't destined to spend his life feeling like he was on the outside, that he might finally have someone that could take him as he is, darkness and light, for better or for worse.

- Whether you stay in the vaults, or make your move to the surface world, with Norm by your side you can expect: Sarcastic comments muttered under his breath at inopportune moments just to see the way you fail to contain your laughter, being the sounding board for all of each other's thoughts and feelings no matter how serious or silly they might be, Norm clinging to your side through everything knowing that he only feels himself when he's stood in your light, and being the one person Norm would do absolutely anything for, bringing out the bravery and intelligence that was always just below the surface of this sweet man.

[nagichi-boop]

SHADOW IS WRITTEN SO WELL IN THE MURDER OF SONIC THE HEDGEHOG!!

First of all, just him showing up to Amy’s party is a step up from his recent “I will do everything myself, I hate everyone, imma fight you” attitude that we have seen. Secondly, and idk if it was intentional, but him attending shows he cares about Amy. He’s always had a special place for her after the events of SA2, so it’s nice to see him showing up for something that maybe isn’t his style for her sake. (Parties aren’t really his thing, after all.)

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

It’s also really sweet of him to go through so many lengths to try and get Amy’s present. I definitely don’t think he forgot to get her a present, he genuinely just didn’t seem to know that it was a social norm to bring presents to a birthday. If he really didn’t care, he either wouldn’t have gotten her anything or he would’ve given her a rushed gift. But no, he went through a lot of effort, basically foregoing the game, just to stall Amy so he could get her a present she would enjoy.

And not just any present - he remembered her mentioning a specific band she liked and that she hadn’t seen them live. This not only suggests he listens to her and remembers what she tells him, but also implies that he has had multiple conversations with her. Clearly he must have also done some research too since he knew that the tickets were going live soon. He thought this through, even if it was a bit last minute, and did his best to get the tickets (even though he admits to not being the best with computers, which is also nice because usually Shadow just insists he’s the best at everything). I also think it was sweet that he didn’t heavily protest Amy’s suggestion to see the band together. He hesitated, but then yielded. This…for a character who recently has been written to be quite selfish.

He seemed upset that he couldn’t keep this a surprise, but he also didn’t become enraged or lash out at Tails and MC/Barry. In fact, he didn’t really lash out at anyone at any point which is refreshing, since in most Sonic media that’s his go-to emotion.

Most of his expressions throughout the game are fairly gentle in fact. Sure, he doesn’t smile, but he also isn’t actively angry. And the one expression where he does seem a bit negative just seems like his resting expression, or at absolute worse just a little annoyed. He’s very mellow throughout the game and it’s refreshing.

Even after he has finished talking to Amy, Tails and MC/Barry, he offers to stay with them and help them with the investigation. Normally in Sonic media, Shadow has no interest in helping others and only really cooperates if there’s a mutual goal/interest. And even then, he tends try to do things on his own. But in this game? He actually cooperates, and what’s more, he goes out of his way to offer his help.

So far I’ve mostly talked about his attitude towards Amy. But what’s his attitude towards Sonic? People debate back and forth on whether Shadow hates Sonic and the recent games and media have made it seem like he does hate Sonic. But in this game? I wouldn’t say so. I mean, he’s literally hanging out with him and his friends and instead of having beef with Sonic, he just focused on making Amy happy. And even when the situation gets more dire and Sonic is found to be knocked out, he doesn’t make any snarky comments or anything. In fact, he actually helps to tend to Sonic’s condition, even if it was just checking his pulse. If he rly didn’t care, he would’ve left it to everyone else.

Man, I could talk for hours about Shadow in this game. I can’t believe this April Fools prank game is actually the best characterisation for Shadow we’ve had recently. He’s not overly aggressive, he isn’t selfish, he isn’t super edgy. He is still sorta cold, but he’s not rude or mean. He’s actually really kind (in his own way), putting his needs and desires on hold to make Amy’s birthday fun and to help everyone out. I seriously hope that Shadow is written more like this in the future and not like he has been. Maybe Sega wasn’t joking about taking on board the complaints of the fandom.

[miraculousmultifan]

The months following Steve's fight with Billy and the excursion through the Mind Flayer’s tunnels found Steve at a bit of a loss. The animosity between him and Hargrove had only grown exponentially, but it didn’t bother him as much as it used to. Sure, Hargrove sucked ass, and he had definitely taken over as the newest reigning douchebag, but that kind of stuff just didn’t matter to Steve anymore.

So at school, he found himself sitting with Nancy and Jonathan during lunch. It was a bit awkward considering Nancy and Jon were dating, but he didn’t exactly have any other friends, and he really didn't want to sit alone.

It was early February, and Steve was picking at his cafeteria food, barely listening to the conversation Nancy and Jonathan were having. He was lost in his own thoughts, staring into space blankly.

Across the cafeteria, Eddie Munson was jumping onto a table and taunting several different cliques as he went on a long monologue about society and social norms that most students tended to tune out. Steve watched him with a small smile, pushing his food around his tray. Then, Eddie was throwing barbs at Hargrove, Tommy H, and Carol. Steve winced slightly, knowing the words probably applied to him too, but he couldn't help feeling that Eddie wasn’t exactly saying anything untrue about them.

Before he could tear his attention away, Eddie was turning to face him. Steve's eyes widened. He hadn't even said anything! He’d been laying low ever since their last run-in with the Upside Down, just trying to graduate. So why was Eddie putting his attention on him now?

Eddie jumped down from the table and sauntered over to where Steve was sitting, throwing a leg over the bench to straddle the spot next to him. “Harrington.”

Now that Eddie was so close, Steve could see a slight red tint to his eyes, and he relaxed a little. He was just high.

“Hey, Munson,” Steve replied, giving him a weak smile in response.

Most of the attention on Eddie had dispersed, but Steve could still feel the piercing gaze of Hargrove on the side of his face. That jackass just would not leave him alone, even if he was trying to avoid altercations for Max's sake.

Eddie leaned an elbow on the table to hold his head up with his hand. “How's the fall from grace treating you, my liege?”

Steve blinked. “Huh?”

Jonathan leaned over from where he was chatting with Nancy. “He’s calling you a king. Asking about how you're doing after everyone dropped you for Billy.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie smirked. “With more dramatic flair than that, but yeah, essentially.”

“Oh.” Steve floundered, looking between Nancy and Jon as he tried to think of an answer. “Well, it’s been nice not having as much attention, I guess. Nothing all that interesting has happened to me.”

Nancy hid a snort behind her hand, turning to bury her face into Jonathan’s shoulder. Eddie raised a curious eyebrow but didn’t comment on her reaction.

“Surely the life of a king has to have some frivolities. Raging parties, swooning ladies, the like…”

Steve scrunched his nose. “Nah, man. My parents cut off my allowance after my last concussion, so I don’t exactly have the funds for that kind of thing anymore.” He didn’t know why he was confiding that kind of information in Eddie, but it wasn’t like he cared that much about what people thought of him anymore. Eddie could spread it around if he really wanted to. “I just babysit Nancy and Jon’s little brothers and their friends. I promise it’s nothing interesting.”

Smirking, Eddie tilted his head to the side. “I'm sure you could make anything interesting, Harrington. Especially looking like that.”

Steve blushed bright red from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck. Oh god. Was Eddie flirting with him? “Oh. Um, thank you! I'm sure you're pretty interesting too.”

That seemed to snap Eddie out of whatever weird flirty persona he had let settle over him. “Right. Good talk. I'm gonna go now. Have a good lunch, Steve.”

And then Eddie was gone, back to his table as he ranted at his friends with increasingly frantic gestures. Steve stared after him for a bit, biting his lip and trying to make sense of the feelings stirring in his chest. On the other side of the table, Nancy let out a pointed cough with a smug smirk.

“So…” She started. “Wanna tell us what that was all about?”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “You witnessed the exact same thing that I did, Nance. I don't have any insider information.”

Nancy giggled. “No, not that. I’m talking about how you blushed like a little schoolgirl when Eddie called you interesting. You wanna tell us about it?”

Shooting another look at Eddie’s table, Steve started to reply before he noticed that some of Eddie’s friends were looking at him. His eyes widened and he whipped back around. “I have no clue what you're talking about. Jon, back me up here.”

“Sorry, dude.” Jonathan winced with a sheepish shrug. “You were pretty red. I mean he did call you hot, so I guess I get it…”

Steve sighed and let his head drop to the table. “I really don’t appreciate the psychoanalysis, Nance. He came over here, talked to us, called the way I look interesting, and left. Sure, I may have gotten a little red, but he was leaning really close.”

Smirking, Nancy leaned over the table to flick the back of Steve’s head. “You’re wrong about one thing. He didn’t come over to talk to us. He only talked to you. I think he finds you more than just interesting.”

Standing up from the table abruptly, Steve shook his head. “We’re not talking about this. It’s not like it matters that much anyway. He was probably just trying to mess with me. I’ll see you guys later.” Steve grabbed his tray and walked off, trying and failing to stop himself from sneaking a glance at Eddie’s table.

Much to Steve’s surprise, Eddie was looking right back at him. When their eyes met, he smirked and waggled his fingers at Steve in a wave. Steve blushed, his eyes wide, and he stumbled, almost bumping into another student in the process.

[spitdrunken]

Adami (Homicipher MC) x Reader, vaguely implied Scarletella x Reader (but don’t read it for that, lol, it’s very minor), lore and ending spoilers. Notes: Headcanon-heavy, post-maingame story, canon-typical horror themes, temporary character death, implied gore.

The Other World takes after its master.

That doesn’t mean their temperament becomes law in the ever-changing maze of rooms and hallways. It’s only a suggestion, a push that will transform certain inclinations into preferences. If one has desires strong enough in an opposite direction, they can still do whatever they want. But while Mr. Scarletella ruled and influenced the Other World, consent was a surprisingly important factor in the world’s dealings. Being told ‘no’ was enough to send away a good chunk of its inhabitants, though they might turn pushy or become disgruntled.

All of this related to the way Mr. Scarletella himself functioned as an apparition. He could only take someone’s soul, could only hurt someone, if they gave him their name. Agreement was key and this rippled into other aspects of the Other World.

But now, Adami is the one who, after having turned Mr. Scarletella into her servant, is the one most in control of the realm. The changes aren’t as noticeable at first. However, as she loses more and more of her humanity, more and more of her memories, she begins to act solely bashed on her whims, her violent impulses shining through on more than one occasion. She’s not violent all the time. There are moments, though, flashes of utter loss of contact with the world around her where she destroys everything in her path. All the while, her crimson companion only aids her.

In turn, the inhabitants of the Other World grow more volatile, too. They’ve gained the capacity to lie and a stronger inclination towards direct violence. Simply taking what they want becomes the norm, although it doesn’t mean that everyone acts in this manner. Mr. Crawling, who frequently accompanies Adami as well, is someone who remains mild-mannered in the vast majority of situations. Where they’d once been terrifying and unfamiliar to her, the monsters there now either listen to or avoid her like the plague. She never has to fear, can walk around without ever needing to hide. The Other World, once dangerous at every turn, has become her home.

To you, an unsuspecting human dragged in by her grief, all of these machinations and baselines of the past are of no consequence. When you first encounter Adami (Or ‘Ms. Crowbar’, as you call her) does not seem all that different from the other monsters you’ve encountered. She’s unnerving, but not exactly scary.

Ms. Crowbar wears a simple raincoat, suspiciously clean, with strands of silver hair poking past the hood pulled over her head. Gloves hide her hands, though her legs are blotchy in colour like one giant dark-tinged bruise. Her face is as white as the raincoat she’s wearing, an entirely unnatural shade. Her eyes are slightly too big for her face, her lips practically melting into the white of her face. More than anything, her appearance veers into the uncanny valley. And, of course, she’s always carrying her crowbar around with her, either held upright or dragged carelessly behind her, metal scraping over concrete and banging into every loose rock it can find.

During your first meetings, it’s perhaps Mr. Scarletella who puts you more on edge. His aura is definitely the more imposing one of the two. He towers over you, the deadest gaze you’ve ever seen pinning you into place. Absentmindedly, he smiles at nothing at all. That isn’t even mentioning the way he colours the whole world around him. It’s unlike anything you’ve seen before down here. The natural conclusion is that he must be someone especially powerful, a monster to look out for. But, as you quickly discover, he’s always looking at Ms. Crowbar. His eyes only move when she moves, his feet only take another step as soon as she does. He never reaches out without her command. Whether by choice or through force, he is entirely her puppet. She is the one you need to look out for.

As for how that first meeting went… Perhaps you’d been chased by something. What exactly it had been, you’d had no idea. It would’ve been too large of a risk to look over your shoulder when you were certainly running for your life. One moment, you had been in a quiet room. The next, the quick pounding of footsteps was catching up to you, and you’d dashed through door after door on pure survival instinct. With burning lungs and aching muscles, you’d slammed a door and shoved a lock into place. Resting your sweaty back against it, you slid down to your knees. If this isn’t enough to stop them, you’d be as good as dead. You can’t run anymore. You squeeze your eyes shut, cupping your hands over your mouth to muffle the noises of your desperate gasps for air. You await the worst, but nothing happens.

When you finally do open your eyes, that’s when you see the pair of them. Ms. Crowbar looks at you with an unreadable expression and a slight tilt of her head. Her crimson pupils seem to glow in the dark. Besides her, Mr. Scarletella, still and unmoving as a corpse. You have no idea what to think. She takes a step towards you. The first one is slow, though she speeds up afterwards. The woman leans forward and holds out her hand for you to take.

Maybe… She’s actually nice? Or, maybe, she’ll just bash your skull in with the crowbar she’s holding in her other hand. Either way, something about the whole situation makes your skin crawl. Her eyes narrow at your hesitation. She is already retracting her hand when you make up your mind, and grab it while forcing a wobbly smile on your features. You mumble out a ‘thank you’ with your parched throat. Her cold fingers intertwine with yours.

Ms. Crowbar pulls you up with a truly surprising amount of strength for her small stature. You’re yanked to your feet with such force that you’re practically lifted off the ground and barrel into her, eliciting a yelp from the woman. Without thinking, and in order to prevent yourself from falling, you wrap both of your arms around her, one of your legs hooked around hers. It’s like you’re clinging on to her for dear life. Well, not like. You are. Mr. Scarletella’s eyes are burning holes into the side of your head. The hairs at the back of your neck as static, rapidly increasing in volume, creeps at the edges of your hearing.

As you loosen your grip and move to pull away, sputtering out a long string of apologies in every language you can think of, she laughs. It’s a high-pitched giggle, the kind that’s straight out of a horror movie. Her crowbar falls to the ground with a clatter. In a flash, you’re pulled against her even tighter as she pulls you against her body, returning your ‘hug’. You swear you can hear your ribs creaking. Your eyes feel like they’re about to pop out of your head, and you can hardly breathe. The static quiets down. Even after patting her back a couple of times, she holds on for a good few seconds longer. You don’t know whether you should be uncomfortable or entirely relieved.

When she releases her grip on you, you drop back down to the floor. She’d held you so tightly your feet hadn’t been touching concrete anymore. Ms. Crowbar is still smiling. Her entire body sways slightly back and forth. The crowbar is back in her hand.

“Human cute,” she says, though you don’t have the knowledge to understand her garbled language yet. To you, it sounds like nonsense noise. “Me teach you language. Not lots. Little.” She’d grow bored and lose track of things before managing to teach you a lot, anyway.

Much like others had once done for her, she teaches you some basic vocabulary. To be completely honest, she lists everything slightly too fast for you to remember all of it once. Regardless, she teaches you the words for ‘you’ and ‘human’ and ‘me’, as well as pointing at the walls and the floor. After that, she plops down next to you and makes Mr. Scarletella act as, essentially, a mannequin for the next segment. In accordance with her commands, he’ll lower her his head, stick out an arm or a leg, or spread his fingers, all in order to teach you more of the language. His face contorts into all different kinds of expressions, too. The look in his eyes does not once change and he follows all of her instructions without any hesitation. Rather than just focusing on Ms. Crowbar, his eyes occasionally dart to you too as you copy and sound out the words.

It ends as quickly as it all started. She decided to help you on impulse, and it’s also on impulse that she leaves. Your head is left spinning with the new amount of knowledge you’ve been taught, though the prospect of wandering treacherous halls alone after having found some company is even worse. …You’ll try to look for an exit. What else can you do? Being able to make yourself understandable, limited as your means might be, is at least an improvement. You don’t see Ms. Crowbar often. Occasionally, she’ll pop up and you exchange a few words. You’re eager to show your improvement in the language, thanks to some others who did not immediately try to kill you.

(One time, you’d cracked open a door and peered in. Every entrance requires a degree of caution, you think. Ms. Crowbar and Mr. Scarletella had been there, their backs turned towards you. Her crowbar had been raised. Then, she lowered it and hit the crumpled mass on the floor in front of her again, and again, and again, and again. The sickening crunch of every impact made bile rise in your throat. Just as you’d let the door fall shut as quietly as possible, Mr. Scarletella had turned to face you. But they hadn’t followed.)

It takes a while for you to see her again, after that. Bit by bit you make progress through the confusing world, though sheer luck doesn’t seem capable of protecting you much longer. Eventually, you’re cornered, already mentally speaking your last words, when a familiar crimson sheen falls over the world around you. Ms. Crowbar’s weapon connects with the monster’s skull, and it falls to the side. Though the sound isn’t any less disgusting, you can’t help the relief that floods your body.

For a moment, she simply stares at you, red eyes slightly too wide and crowbar raised. The moment passes and she relaxes. She lowers the blood-stained weapon. “Hello,” she says, smiling at you once again. “Other attack. Me kill. Not attack me… Lots time.”

If there are any words in the Other World’s language you know how to say, it’s these. “Thank you!” You exclaim. The smile on your face is nowhere near as forced as when you’d first encountered her. Ms. Crowbar is unnerving. She’s violent, too, clearly. But that isn’t all she is. She’s never been anything but nice to you.

She opens her arms. It takes you second to register that she probably wants a hug. On still-trembling legs, you do exactly that. Ms. Crowbar hums happily before her crowbar taps on your back then drags down along your spine, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. You move to let her go, but she takes hold of your wrist.

“Me teach you language. Me teach you attack.” She turns her head around to look at Mr. Scarletella, ever the silent observer around you, and they exchange a wordless look. Then, she releases you.

A weapon materialises in your hands, appearing out of thin air. You don’t know what to call it. It’s long and blade-liked, allowing you to keep your distance while still being able to attack. Slowly, painfully slowly, Ms. Crowbar lifts her crowbar above her head and lowers it in your general direction. It clicks. As soon as you lift your blade up and block the movement with a dull clang, she grins. The words that pass her lips, although you don’t know what they mean, are spoken in a cloying, slightly demeaning, tone that indicates praise.

Rinse and repeat. Her movements grow faster and more varied as she tries to surprise you. It doesn’t take long before you can’t keep up at all anymore, though you’re eager to learn how to defend yourself even a little. You grow used to the weight of the weapon in your hand. Although you definitely have a few bruises blossoming on your skin, you don’t think you’re completely helpless, either.

(You don’t think either of them agree, though. You’re a cute little plaything to them, perhaps. At some point, Ms. Crowbar had pointed at Mr. Scarletella and ordered you to attack. You’d hesitated. His smile had widened, just a little. He’d disappeared and reappeared right in front of you. A clear invitation. …You hadn’t expected your blade to slice clean through him. The force of your swing sends you nearly topping to the ground and her laughter rings out in the empty room. Your face burns with embarrassment. The only thing that had prevented you from falling flat on your face had been Mr. Scarletella’s umbrella, its inflexible form hooking around you.)

Eventually, Ms. Crowbar grows bored of your training. While you’re panting, she isn’t winded at all. In front of your face, she holds up three fingers.

“Me attack. You run.” She tells you. But you haven’t been taught the word for ‘run’. Why would you assume that this would be any different than what you’ve been doing for a while now? Maybe she’s just telling you to prepare for a particularly strong blow. You ready yourself. When she’s only holding up a single finger, she smiles in a way that exposes teeth. “You want attack? I see. Funny.”

You didn’t stand a chance. You didn’t even see her hand drop to her side before her crowbar had effortlessly smashed into your skull, the world around you exploding into a maddening array of pure agony. Your body flies halfway across the room. Vaguely, you wonder how you’re still breathing. You can’t see anything out of your right eye. Something wet and warm slides down your neck. Ms. Crowbar stands over you, weapon raised. Static fills your ears as your vision flickers out.

As soon as you regain consciousness, you wish you’d never come to again. Your head is pounding, your vision is blurry. Your lips are cracked and your tongue is sticking to the roof of your mouth. Your arms ache. Dried blood covers the side of your face and neck. Your eyes are struggling to focus and, as soon as you get up, you nearly fall right back down again. Your skin looks blotchy. To put it simply, you feel and look like shit. You can’t even remember how you’ve ended up like this. But you grab your weapon, try to remember and trudge onwards. You can’t remember what you are moving towards.

It takes you a little while to stumble across Ms. Crowbar again, though you have no idea how long it’s exactly taken. Everything has become so… Difficult. You hate being here, hate being alone. You don’t know what’s going on anymore. You can hardly recall your own name, much less why seeing her is tying your stomach up in knots. Hasn’t she always been nice to you? When she opens her arms for you, as she usually does, your arms tremble when you return the hug and tears drip down your face. Over shoulder, you make eye-contact with Mr. Scarletella.

“Sad?” He asks, voice too even to sound truly concerned. But you don’t think you’ve ever heard him speak before. Ms. Crowbar wriggles against you, staring at your face for a moment as she catches sight of your tears. She extends her arm, hand dropping on the top of your head as she pets your hair. A little too roughly, for your liking. She leans forward, lips brushing against yours in a quick peck. With a short burst of static, Mr. Scarletella is leaning over the both of you, too. When he reaches out, you feel nothing touching you except for a vague tingling sensation.

“You weak. You cute.” Ms. Crowbar says, every word clearly and slowly enunciated as if she’s speaking to a child. You sniffle. “Me help you. You not worry.” Her cold hand closes around your wrist. “Go with, go with.” She tugs you along, deeper into the maze, her companion walking right besides you. You have no idea where you’re going. But, you suppose, when you were walking alone, you hadn’t either.