#his personality is red (tm)

[wasyago]

dakota 🤲 (and bobo)

[pansetta]

It's still hard to believe it took 4 seasons for Grian to change his skin to go along with whatever theme for the life series, and of all things it's him as a playground bully in a leather jacket...

[talentforlying]

might go without saying, but rewatching midnight mass knowing you'll finish the last episode less than an hour before your class? not a good idea.

[lil-vibes]

chuuya "i grew up with like 10 other kids" nakahara vs dazai "single child and it shows" osamu. fight!

dazai mentioning that hes thirsty offhandedly and chuuya hands over his water bottle. that he just drank out of. (dazai has to Sit and Think about that one for a bit.)

chuuya lending clothes, when they were more or less the same height. giving dazai extra food from his plate (read: all but throwing it at dazai but hey! it ended up in his plate, better eat it). walking into his room for something and then leaving the door wide fucking open when he leaves. going to make coffee, half asleep, and flicking dazais ear as he goes.

... yeah, dazai aint winning this one fellas 😔🤞

[lisbonsteresa]

[marzipanandminutiae]

could the beach painting not be intended as a somewhat ~racy~ depiction (see: the topless woman), hence the short/tight clothes?

oh it 1000% is

that is his Fantasy Version of Combinations, I'm convinced

it's like that one artist nobody now realizes loved to depict women half-dressed, because corset-covers look like tank tops to us and petticoats look like normal (even old-fashioned and concealing!) skirts. what was that guy's name? with all the blue silk?

...TOULMOUCHE

this woman is showing her underwear. a glimpse of petticoat might be fine, but Skirt Hiking To Reveal A Huge Amount? nope. that is a sexy painting.

Lounging About With My Bodice Inexplicably Open is a popular Toulmouche theme. the white "tank top" is also underwear. note the half-up hair- that is also sexy!

damnit, Toulmouche why is this lady sexy? there's a kid in the painting! have some decency! but no, Mama is praying with her child while inexplicably having removed specifically her bodice but not her skirt. nor has she just changed into nightclothes before putting the kiddo to bed like a normal person. also that is clearly her chemise and her skirt would not close over it without her corset on; the fat distribution would be all different.

this one is just gay. Mlle. Red is clearly into Mlle. Nightwear/Lingerie and her sexy 1880s pixie cut (I think? either that or her hair is blending REALLY well with the shadows). I'm here for it

"this letter is so distressing that I had to stop midway through getting dressed and put on my Bolero of Sadness. and lounge seductively against the screen. sad-ductively, I mean"

Get dressed to the point of putting bodice on

do not put bodice on

don Tiny Vest

pin roses to corset cover that would 100% negate purpose of corset cover if actually attached to it

???

Toulmouche(TM)

Once again, that's not even her corset-cover. It's the top part of her combinations. how is her skirt fitting without the corset it was fitted on top of? Seamstresses Hate Local Painter Of Specific Fetish For This One Weird Fitting Trick!

(also, "you wanted to paint a woman in this one very particular unlikely undress state you find hot, but you painted her making out with a mirror and called it Vanity etc." there's actually a version of this called Vanity, and she's fully dressed. this one is The Mirror.)

I've got nothing. Extremely obvious late Victorian undergarment on top normal late Victorian skirt on bottom, fucking Renaissance Revival pearl-encrusted sleeves. Why not. Why, indeed, the fuck not.

WHAT IS WITH THE LITTLE VEST

[icyrambles]

hi hope it's okay to reblog this, but i wanted to ask some questions out of genuine curiosity on some of the stuff mentioned in this post. and before i started i wanted to say that i agree with the general sentiment of your post; fandom has, and continues to have a very bad racism issue in terms of both actual poc and coded poc characters, something that is often brushed aside and ignored by the majourity of fandom. i believe it's important to address these issues and call them out, less they fester and become prevalent in the background, as well as the fact that fandom comfort in terms of tropes should come second to the safety and wellbeing of poc members.

however i did want to ask why some of the tropes mentioned in this post would be considered racist. specifically in regards to making jazz a decepticon, either former or an undercover spy. i could understand if it was just jazz who was getting this sort of treatment from the fanbase (because if it was just jazz then having one of the few explicitly coded black characters in fandom being on the team that regularly enslaves/colonizes other planets is really gross) but i've stumbled across "what if x character was a decepticon" in pretty much every corner of the fandom; ratchet, prowl, optimus, ironhide, the list goes on. it's generally just a really popular idea to ask the question of what if this autobot was on the other team, so i don't really understand why it's specifically racist if it's done to jazz.

and in terms of hyper violent jazz, i don't think i've personally stumbled across that version of jazz but considering in a lot of continuities he's head of special operations and a literal spy, i don't really consider it that big of a stretch to assume that jazz is willing to commit violent acts. then again i could just be misinterpreting the term hyper violence. if it's about jazz being like, blood thirsty i guess, then yeah that seems really far out of left field considering his appearances within most continuities as being a generally kind and caring individual.

again it seems like a lot of your issues seem to be with really popular fandom tropes that are often applied to most transformers characters, not just jazz. and that's totally valid, sometimes shit just isn't someone's cup of tea. but i think it's somewhat disingenuous to say that people are racist for writing jazz with very popular, and very prevalent fandom tropes that exist all over the internet. like do i think that people could do a little bit more thinking in regards to writing a black coded character with those tropes, yeah, absolutely, biases are everywhere and no author/artist is without them and writers should 100% try to research and check their biases if they're attempting to write about coded characters or really any character who experiences something that the writer themself has not experienced before

but considering jazz is a spy/head of special operations in a lot of continuities, having him be a spy for the opposite team or have him come from darker origins (like being a former criminal) doesn't seem too far a stretch for a fan creator to make and generally from what i know from my experience in fandom, a lot of the fun of playing in the sandbox with characters is asking questions of "what if x character did this" or "what if y character acted like that".

anyways i really hope this doesn't sound like i'm trying to pick a fight, i'm honestly curious how jazz being put into these common fandom tropes and/or experiences (like character traits getting flanderized) is an example of racism even if it happens to every other character within the franchise. and additionally do you have any thoughts on how people could realistically do these tropes? or if people simply shouldn't write jazz into any different stories that don't portray him as a direct 1 to 1 in whatever canon they're trying to write.

I think I've reached my last nerve with how TF fans treat Jazz on here and on AO3, and I feel the need to rant about it. Obligatory "not all Jazz fans" and "not all JazzProwl fans" disclaimer here... if this doesn't sound like it's describing the content you make or enjoy, then it's not. Honestly, I don't think this angry rant is going to convince anybody of anything, but I'm posting it because I want to make it clear that people see this and are aware it's racist.

Never let it be said that racism isn't thriving in the TF fandom on Tumblr and AO3, because so much Jazz fan content is the most blatantly racist shit. And it's nowhere near as bad on other sites that people here usually claim are more racist—I've never seen what I'm about to describe on r/transformers, for example. TF fans on here often claim to love Jazz so much and say he's one of the best, most unhateable TF characters along with Soundwave, but do they ACTUALLY love Jazz?

Tumblr and AO3 users when they see this great, heavily Black-coded hero: We love Jazz! Ooh, what if he was a slave? What if he was hyper-violent? What if he was a disruptive chaos gremlin? What if he was hypersexual? What if he was lazy and never did his work? What if he was a drug addict? What if he was a prostitute? What if he had an evil alter? What if he used to be/was secretly a Decepticon? What if he was a notorious criminal? What if he was literally some kind of bestial monster?

I've actually seen people on Tumblr asking if Jazz being a Decepticon or having an evil alter was ever canon. Well, let this be a PSA: none of this shit is fucking real! I've seen almost all the media Jazz is in, and none of this reflects how he's been portrayed, ever! Apparently people posting links and screenshots and GIFs showing what Jazz has actually been like in canon hasn't caused people to self-reflect, because this shit is still somehow super popular and even filtering doesn't screen even close to all of it! And I've seen in real-time people who are newer to the fandom getting tricked by all this racist fanon and then being drawn into it, thinking it reflects something when it doesn't! That's one of the things that bothers me most!

And then there's the other half of this, which is the immense popularity of JazzProwl. Putting aside how ridiculous it is that a ship between characters who haven't had a positive interaction in fifteen years is somehow the most popular ship in this fandom, half of all the Jazz content I see on sites like Tumblr also stars Prowl, as if Jazz isn't an arguably more prominent character with tons of unexplored stuff of his own going on. But that's the least of it. How the hell do I constantly see people uncritically post shit with this ship like Prowl trying to arrest or pull over a chaotic criminal Jazz? Or shooting at him? Or white savior, copaganda, anti-sex work garbage like Prowl as a cop rescuing prostitute/stripper Jazz from exploitative working conditions (I'm not making this shit up)? (Also, @ people who make content in which Prowl is Jazz's slave—I see you too, and you're not woke. You are still linking Black people to slavery as your first thought and then assuming it's subversive to flip the dynamic you'd expect to see. You're getting off on slavery and still including a Black-coded hero in your shit.)

Even the majority of the much milder content I see is still ridiculously OOC and plays into racist tropes in its own ways. Like how 90% of JazzProwl content shows a lazy, distractible Jazz endlessly trying to get Prowl to relax by disrupting his work or playing pranks or some shit. What media does that come from? Oh yeah, it comes from nowhere, because it's just old fanon that's been endlessly regurgitated by people who aren't realizing how making this up plays into offensive stereotypes about Black men and boys. Hey, if you people love this boring dynamic so much, maybe look at the canon relationships that are similar to it instead of forcing characters who don't fit it whatsoever into these roles without thinking about the implications!

And guess what? I've repeatedly seen literal proof that basically everyone who thinks they like this ship hasn't ever seen the characters interact in canon, too—every so often somebody on here will ask why JazzProwl is popular and ask for fans to share the canon media that made them ship it... and inevitably nobody can share anything, which is hilarious every time. Sometimes people will admit it's all fanon. In fact, the other day I saw a link to a fic from the very early 2000s that claims to be the super-influential, first JazzProwl fic ever making the rounds on Tumblr, and guess what? I looked at it and it was already super fucking racist, with Jazz being described as chaotic and not a hard worker and it had Prowl angrily shooting at him!!!

Jazz is one of my favorite characters and I'm so sick of this shit! Normally I love transformative works and new interpretations of characters, but in this case the fanon is so horrid and has always been horrid, so either try to examine Jazz in canon and portray him based on it, or be a fan of a different character! And fucking REMEMBER that this is a Black-coded hero, damn it! I saw a fic the other day that made me literally choke on my drink because it had Blaster (also a Black-coded hero) describing Jazz as a "spook!" THAT DOES NOT JUST MEAN SPY, THAT'S A RACIST, ANTI-BLACK SLUR!!! And this isn't even getting into how people in fic have Jazz talk! Jazz in all the media I've seen speaks very clearly and rarely has any kind of accent, but I constantly see white people attempting to write his dialogue phonetically in a way that feels straight out of Uncle Tom's Cabin. What the fuck is this?!

Also, petty, but the fans who make and consume this kind of content in my opinion don't then get to relentlessly criticize something like Earthspark, which has a cast and crew of people of color, by claiming it undermined its themes and is racist!

[qqueenofhades]

There is no law that prevents a convicted felon from running for and becoming president, nor a law that bans someone from being president in prison. Also, if Trump gets incapacitated in someway, many ultra right republicans who equally despise trans people and immigrants and Muslims would happily take his place

And I ask, with all due respect, what is your point?

Do you think I don't know that?

Do you think I am somehow convinced that everything is hunky dory now and we don't have any work left to do?

Are you just determined to be the first of the gloom-and-doomers who show up like clockwork in my inbox, every time some consequence happens to Trump, to morosely insist that no consequences will happen to him? First it was "he'll win re-election." Then it was "the coup will succeed." Then it was "he will never be indicted." Then it was "2022 will be a red wave!" Then it was "he will never be tried." Then it was "he will never be convicted." Now we've moved on, within less than 2 hours of the first US President ever to be convicted of ONE felony, let alone THIRTY-FOUR, "he'll never be sentenced or face a real consequence or lose the election." The goalposts keep moving RIGHT along without even a single pause to acknowledge the difficulty and the value of the progress we have made thus far, and it makes me CRAZY.

Do you people realize how fucking rare it is, both in the world today and historically, for a former (and would-be future) head of state to be held to criminal account by a jury of 12 anonymous ordinary citizens? When that one person, Trump, is the center of the malignant fascist cancer that has spread through this country ever since 2016, and plenty of his cultists are still insisting that it's Trump or nobody for them? When we've actually reached the stage of holding him legally accountable for (some of) his crimes for the first time in his miserable misbegotten life? I suspect that most of you are so deep in the "America is totally broken and the system is useless and we can only Revolute!!!1" rabbit hole that you're bound and determined to argue away every step we take, however slow, as Meaning Nothing TM. Voting? Fake. Fighting to make real progress? Also fake. Everything is fake except our belief that everything is broken and we need the Keyboard Warrior Glorious Revolution!!! As long as you can keep inventing ever more contorted twists of logic to ignore everything else that's happened so far, this makes sense... or something. I guess?

Now we're onto "removing Trump won't matter :(" when a whole lot of people have been fighting day and fucking night to get all the privileged-princess Online Leftists to get off their Che Guevara cosplaying asses and cast a single fucking vote to keep us from full-on-sliding into fascism. A slide into fascism that, again, has been spearheaded and centered around Trump's toxic cult of personality and which is still tied to him in almost every way. Apparently holding him to account (again, which has never happened to him in his life) already doesn't matter because wah wah he won't suffer any consequences. If he loses this election he's probably going to jail for the rest of his life! We would have electorally defeated the greatest threat to the American democratic experiment in 250 years, and frankly a huge part of the fascist far-right hydra that is currently attempting a comeback around the world! This is, yet again:

THE FIRST TIME ANY AMERICAN PRESIDENT, EVER, HAS BEEN CONVICTED OF MULTIPLE FELONY CHARGES IN A COURT OF LAW BY A JURY OF HIS PEERS

and yet we're still hearing that nothing matters and no work has been done and removing him will have no effect???

Come on. Come on. I know it's tiring and it's slow and it doesn't go as fast as we want. But every single damn time the process goes another step, here you people are in my inbox insisting that we're still at zero progress and it means nothing, and lemme tell you, I am Tired of it. Come on. You don't have to jump up and down (my own feeling is glee and vindication but still not relaxation, I will not relax until he loses the fucking election and goes to jail), but you also don't need to keep myopically pretending that all the effort thus far by so many people means nothing. Come on.

[raynewolferune]

Battle of the Not It

Just me pushing my personal agenda that the Battle for the Cowl makes no freaking sense once again.

I want to see the Battle of the Not It, Nose Goes, Worst out of 126+ Rounds of Rock Paper Siscors Takes It, etc. Basically, the Batfam throwing down in Bruce's absence to Not Be The One Who Inherits (TM). No one wants dear dad's emo fursona but they all agree someone has to take it. The resulting Loser Gets Batmanned sibling war throws Gotham into chaos, Oracle's keeping score of everything, the one with the lowest score at the end of every week is stuck with Batman Duty the following week.

Damian hates loosing his swords everytime he gets stuck doing Batman. Tim can't stand losing his tech. Jason misses his guns. Cass hates having to talk on can't use words days. Staphanie hates doing the voice. Dick can't tolerate being unable to smile. Duke needs his freaking sleep. The list goes on because they've all agreed they hate to embody Bruce's Batman, no one can put their own flare on it (Gun!Batman will not happen on their watch and they won't risk any other equally horrible variation either.) The resulting sibling war takes place 24/7 in the masks and the criminals and citizens of Gotham are as awed as they are horrified by it.

The strangest alliances form and disolve week to week. Dick cheats whenever he gets close to loosing and dips out because "Bludhaven needs him." Cass flits off to China on a last minute mission when too many of her siblings start forming up an alliance against her. Steph breaks her leg (she says it's an accident but Tim has very vocal doubts about that). Tim, Duke, and Damien start teaming up against Jason frequently and Red Hood gets stuck doing Batman practically every other week. Other weeks, Jason picks one of them as Robin for his Batman week (rotating between them as revenge) and forces a temporary alliance to make another of them Batman for the next week. Alfred encourages the four's little rivalry and manages to finagle them into all staying in the manor full time with him.

Just Batfam bonding shenanigans over how much they all Do Not want to be Batman.

And when Bruce comes back Babs naturally has a highlight reel waiting for him. Some of the gems include: Steph in a cast with crutches say "oh no, I broke my leg, however will I be Batman now" in the most deadpan voice. Dick 'answering' an obviously turned off cell phone pretending it's an emergency calling him back to Bludhaven. Cass saluting the security camera as she leaves with a full duffle bag in the dead of night. Jason in the Batsuit, minus cowl, storming into the kitchen shouting "you little shits are conspiring against me!" As Tim, Duke, and Damien are crowded around the island with a bunch of documents clearing planning something. A heated game of Rock Paper Scissors between Dick, Jason, and Tim with the rest of the batkids watching (having already won their freedom from the cowl for the following week). Duke wearing the cowl and asking Oracle repeatedly over coms if it's time for bed yet. Damien throwing a full on tantrum trying to get out of wearing the physical cowl "it's unnecessary and impractical!"

Oracle sends him the reel a day after his return during the standard Justice League team meeting, helpfully projecting it so everyone can see. The reels starts with an argument in the Bat Cave between all of Batman's (previously unknown to the Justice League) children:

"Well, Dickhead, I guess this means you're it now." The clip starts with a red helmeted man speaking.

"The fuck?" Nightwing asks on screen.

"You're Batman now." The teenager with yellow bandoliers replies from where he sits in front of an enormous computer. A girl in purple and another in black both nod. (At this point, it begins to dawn on members of the Justice League that this is footage from the fabled Bat Cave they're seeing.)

"Oh, fuck that!" Nightwing answers. "Not it!" He shouts. The boy with the bandoliers jolts and then says seemingly reflexively.

"Nose goes!" Bandolier boy calls out hand shooting up and touching his nose as he speaks. Both girls and Nightwing react immediately following suit. A smaller boy with a sword copies them a half second later. The red helmeted man sputters.

"Wha-that-NO! NO NO NO NO NO! I am not the one! Fuck no!"

"You snooze you loose, Bro." Nightwings tells him.

There's a pause, red helmet starts laughing, pulls the helmet off slowly to reveal a red domino underneath, and lazily touches his nose with a sharp grin.

"You're right, Bro." He says teasingly. "And Signal's still sleeping." A short pause and then all the people on screen are laughing.

"Oh," bandoliers gasps out between giggles. "He is gonna be so pissed in the morning."

[coolshadowtwins]

Teenage Liu Qingge time travels to the future. Let’s say The Abyss Years (TM), as any good LiuShen story does. And who does he meet there, SQQ, of course.

Of course, this is SY, and not SJ, but LQG doesn’t know that! He’s amazed at how nice he’s being to him! And SY is just enjoying having a cute baby version of LQG around. SY smiles at him and he gets all red! He’ll never get a girlfriend like that, SY thinks to himself.

LQG goes back to his time with one very important thought- that SJ can be that nice to spend time with if LQG only was able to befriend him! Somehow! Did I say this was LiuShen? I’m sorry, this is LiuJiu!

Meanwhile, while teenaged LQG was hanging around SY, adult LQG was hanging around teenaged SJ, who does not want to have to entertain the peak lord from the future. Unfortunately, social niceties (and his Shizun) are forcing his hand, so here he is, spending the day with him.

And the adult version of LQG is being so nice to him?? Taking his bitchy comments, bringing up monsters for him to lecture about. He never really cared about monsters like that, but it was kinda nice to have someone actually listen to him for once.

So when teenaged LQG gets back, him and SJ just look at each other and think, “Why can’t you be like the other one?”

Man’s then something something, character development, LQG falling in love with SJ and his character traits and not just the ones he saw in SY, blah blah blah. I like time travel and I like stories that force these two to get along for five minutes lol

Also. Adult LQG, after spending a day with teenaged SJ, spends five minutes with SY and in entirety convinced that this is a new person. Clocks it immediately now that he has a fresh reference. Not that he cares or anything! This version of LQG is in love with SY, not SJ after all.

But he does wish that the other man would confide in him. He spends the next few years trying to ‘subtly’ hint to SY that he already knows his big secret! Go ahead and tell him the truth!

SY spends those years freaking out over what LQG might know.

[strawberri-draws]

We call em the nightmare polycule for a reason <3 (the Main characters of me and friends game)

(dots = alternate timeline)

[jadecantcreate]

day 18 of legends of avantris shiptober: tattoo/flower shop! additional thoughts/explanations below the cut

i couldnt decide whether i wanted to do kremy -> flower and gideon -> tattoo or the other way around, so i ended up doing both

for the first one, i gave kremy a sunhat (?) to replace his tophat, adorned with an ornamental queen of the night flower; a little gardener apron thing; a necklace; and, most importantly, a semi translucent shirt with bell sleeves and embroidered deadly nightshades (fruit and flower), lillies of the valley, and orchids throughout. i especially like kremy as a florist because hes such a meticulous cook and i feel like that eye for precision and detail carries over nicely (plus he’d know how to curse someone’s entire bloodline for decades to come in flower) as for gideon, he kept his suspenders (of course), but i gave him cargo pants(tm) and a tank top, as well as a handful of tattoos: a sleeve with fire and smoke, a spiral patterned sun tattoo, and a tick tattoo. it sounds random (and it kind of is), but let me explain: so, im brazilian and i cannot stop projecting onto characters about it. we have this expression (“ai ai ai, carrapato não tem pai”) that roughly translates to “oh oh oh, ticks don’t have fathers” — it doesn’t really have a set meaning, it’s more just an exclamation loosely used whenever you’re mildly annoyed/inconvenienced by something (not really, but thats the best way i can put it). hfsskfjksf yes its a cruel joke (iykyk…sorry gideon fans) but i imagine his dad said that a lot (kind of like how everyone has a specific phrase they use often?) and itd be a way to pay homage to him yk…maybe he got a tick when he was a little kid and his dad took care of him…in my mind it carries personal meaning

for the second one, i gave gideon a little utility belt thing (with different small supplies he can carry around, maybe some seed bags?), gardener apron (look google didnt give me a conclusive answer—), and gloves. muscular calves: out. bare for the world to see <3 his apron thing has a pouch that is embroidered with red and orange lillies. kremys design has fancy flare pants with lace thingamajings in the inner corners, a necklace, a black turtleneck top, and a fishnet shrug. his tattoos are a mustache (obviously), an outline of his humerus bone, a raven, an ornate key, and three symbols (a crescent moon, a skull, a teardrop shape) vertically aligned

[grandisknight]

xavier: your lipstick stains

summary: Xavier helps you out with the age-old dilemma of figuring out what lipstick to wear. Although, his personal take is one you’ve never thought of until now.

tags: established relationship, gender neutral!reader, fluff, lipstick, kissing, light evol use/mention, implied/suggestive ending, banter, teasing, one shot, in the bathroom, ‘starlight’ nickname

+ wc: 1.7k | ao3

a/n: inspired by that one moment in his lost signal card bc the lips line(tm) is canon ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

No, not this one.

Too warm, too cool—one would be too glossy while the other barely reflected any sheen coat. How many have you gone through at this point?

If only choosing a shade of lipstick was as easy as counting to three, you would’ve finished getting ready a while ago. A familiar pile of soaked cottons stained in shades ranging from a family of reds to browns sit off to the side of your counter. And currently, a freshly-dipped micellar round was swiping over your lips once more in defeat.

Great, another one bites the dust.

For some reason, today of all days, not a single shade complimented your appearance. The offended tubes of balm were littered in slight disarray, varying in size and color. There were enough of them present that you could line them up into a series of dominos and watch as they fall in succession. Your eyes narrowed at the selection, one of your own curation, in disbelief at the sense of betrayal they quietly emitted.

A pair of gentle taps break your dazed stare.

“Are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while.”

The soft cadence was muffled between the thick wood separating the two of you, and your eyes lift to gaze at the door through the mirror. Past your own reflection, where your lips have seen better days. Right, he was waiting for you.

“Sorry, I promise I’ll be out soon.” You offer in apology, a slight pang of guilt pricking your skin at the sound of it.

It’s just lipstick. Should be something so simple and quick to get over with, yet here you were about to—dramatically so—end it all because not a single shade felt right. “Just, ugh. Doing something.”

“Would you mind if I stepped in? I can help you,” he offers, though makes no move to push the door handle. Patient as ever, a calm that was an opposite to your current storm of frustration.

You contemplate for a moment. But surely, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion, right? A set of fresh eyes in comparison to your wearied ones that have engraved these shades, and your opinions on them, deep into your frontal lobe. So you decided then with a nod what had to be done.

“The door’s open.”

A pleasant creaking noise welcomed in the light from beyond and the man who shouldered it. Xavier was dressed to the nines, cream blazer neatly ironed down to the very creases and onyx turtleneck sneaking up to his Adam’s apple. A dreamy sight, practically glowing and an angel without wings—truly, the date night dress-code for an excursion out of Linkon did wonders.

His shoulders press against the doorframe, arms crossed in thought as he assessed the situation before him. A heartbeat passes in the moment his curious gaze trailed over your figure from head to toe, and away to the messy counter that housed your bathroom activities.

“You look beautiful,” he concludes with a matter-of-fact tone. His brow creases when you don’t even offer him a small smile, sensing the distress radiating from your stare. “Oh. Is something else the matter?”

“This,” you emphasize, pointing a finger to your lower lip. There was a slight stain of previous pigments, a testament to your efforts thus far, and a sigh pushed past it. “I know it might seem a bit silly, but I’ve been struggling with finding something that works.”

Xavier takes a step forward, crossing into the small space as you spun around in succession. Your chests nearly met each other in close proximity and a hand under your chin led your eyes to his. Reflectively, his thumb runs over the plush of the source to your current woes.

He hums. “Even your favorite one?”

“Even my favorite one,” you reaffirm. Your usual shade was a lost cause, which was when you knew that today was definitely not your day.

His eyes never left your lips as he posed another question. “I have one you might like. Would you like to try it?”

“Really?” Your ears perked at the suggestion, curious as to what mysterious shades he would have up his sleeve. “What is it—Mmph?”

A soft press of his lips against yours consume your query, neatly melting into your touch like a puzzle piece finding its match. By instinct, your eyes fluttered shut and arms looped around his neck, quickly welcoming the sudden lip-locking.

His hands smooth themselves over your sides, gently guiding your bodies to push against the counter and attached himself to you with a further dip of his head. The walls of the bathroom do well to echo every ardent press of his lips onto yours—the warmth of his mouth enhanced the light traces of cherry underneath his breath, a familiar taste that undoubtedly belonged to him.

It was only when you began to feel his hands sneakily toy underneath the fabric of your top and tongue push against yours that you pull back, breathless in effect.

“Xavier.”

The first call goes past his ears, his lips dragging past your chin and peppering a line across your jaw. As much as you enjoyed this—you were losing sight of the plot, and needed to pull on the reigns once more in reminder. Both literally and figuratively speaking.

A slight tug to his nape and an emphasis to his vowels, you call out to him again. “Xavier.”

He paused with the second announcement of his name, warm breath fanning over the shell of your ear. Xavier pulls back then, and you could barely make out the ringlets of his steeled blues with how dilated they looked at you instead.

“Sorry,” he breathes. A fleeting kiss to the tip of your nose adds to his apology. “I got carried away.”

“You’re fine,” you reassured, patting down his nape in turn.

Although, your brow raised as the question pushed down your throat from several seconds ago rises upwards. “What lipstick were you referring to? You know, before all of this.” You gesture between yourselves, only just now realizing how naturally his legs were slotted between your own, and lower back leaning into the counter’s edge.

“The color of my lips suit you best.” Xavier responds as if it was the most sensible solution in the world, an edge of sincerity to his simple yet meaningful words. “So, that’s my answer.”

Even so, you snorted, lightly pushing his forehead back with a finger. “Weren’t you the one who said that my lips suited you back then?” Memories of the promotional filming flicker in your mind, and the same happens to Xavier in the way his ears flush.

“Same difference.”

He avoids your teasing gaze, a hand lifted to shyly itch at the side of his neck. It didn’t last long, however, when his eyes twinkled in mirth as they returned to yours. “But, hm. Here's the thing...”

“Hm?” You echoed, though in confusion and a sense of foreboding. Searching his face leads you to your answer, where his now slightly chapped lips curled into a small smile. You swipe over his mouth in amusement. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

He answers amidst your touches, lightly nipping at your searching digit towards the end. “Looks like I’ll need some lipstick recommendations. Don’t you have any for me?”

“I might,” you play along, withdrawing your finger. Your hand cups his cheek in turn, admiring the way his face nuzzled further into your palm in wait. “But we’ll be late for dinner if I show you.”

“That’s fine.” Xavier answers almost too quickly, blinking somewhat innocently to spare some face in the height of your raised suspicions. “I think I’d want some dessert first before we go, anyways.”

"I don't think that's how this works—Ah!"

You let out a surprised yelp at his unsuspecting hands sliding under your thighs, lifting you to sit atop the counter. Your hands steady themselves on his shoulders, in slight disbelief at the newfound shift. A couple of lipstick tubes roll from the sudden intrusion, hitting the floor with light clicks and littering the tiles below.

Your huff matches his chuckle at the disposition you've found yourself in, and you lightheartedly cross your arms with a pout. “I thought you wanted the lipstick?” You quip, reminding him of his own proposal just mere seconds ago. "Now you want to talk about desert this and that."

"Am I not allowed to want both?" He candidly asks in turn, gaze lowered and long lashes kissing the height of his cheeks.

"...You can," you quietly confirm, words suddenly feeling dry at the expense of the heat steadily pricking your skin. Was it always this hot in here? It certainly was now, and you were far from complaining.

The butterflies in your stomach became tenfold as he drew closer to your raised body—one hand mindlessly caressed your thigh as the other gestured off to the side in a soft luminance. A whirr of light wraps itself around one of the closest rouges, seemingly floating in effect.

Xavier calmly uncaps the balm then, waving it around in the air with specks of light floating all about. It stops just before you, barely touching the skin below your cupid’s bow and moves with a faint swipe. “Then, I’ll just have to borrow it from you this way.”

He closes the distance between your faces once more, a kiss so fleeting yet purposeful sealing his promise. Another swipe of lipstick and a planted peck followed in suit—though a third brush of his lips against yours couldn't hide the smile on his face, enjoying the play of events under his crafted direction. He pulls back with a content hum, putting the lipstick aside and smoothing his hands over your thighs once more.

You find yourself staring at his lips, now equally as stained as yours and enhancing the natural hues of his pink. "You got your lipstick, and I got mine," you mused, pursing your lips together in thought. "Are we good to go now?"

"Not quite." Xavier shakes his head, nose nudging the underside of your chin and tracing towards your collarbone. He speaks into the cavern that protects your heart, fingers drumming against you before squeezing lightly.

"I haven't had my dessert yet, starlight."

[xazse]

AFAB!GOJO X MALE!READER

Hello this is just a shitpost before I go to sleep I’ll edit everything in the morning! Enjoy

NASTYYY SMUT!!!! AND VERY MEAN READER! AND CAR SEX I HOPE YOU GUYS GET THE PICTURE OF THE POSITION I SWEAR ILL EDIT IT TM!

Satoru sleeps with his fair share of women and men, even going as far as to spend the night to satisfy their need for something romantic, but by morning he’s out the door, not caring what happens to said person, he let it be known from the start all he wanted was a quick fuck. Not his fault they confused it for something else.

People around campus who have slept with Gojo can say the night is full of bliss but the morning they’re left with an empty feeling, he really is the best and the worst thing to happen.

So why does Satoru find himself infatuated with you? You who treats him like he’s nothing but an eyesore, it drives him crazy when you deny his advances, no one’s ever denied him: he’s just too pretty for that! You’d have to be crazy to not want to lay with him! Borderline insane! But you, you spark something within him, a primal lust.

When he finally does get you to come around you’re mean, extremely mean: parking behind an abandoned building and position satoru to where the back seat door is open with you standing outside and him laying against the seat with his lower body out the door, it’s super cold out tonight and he regrets wearing the thinnest shorts with no underwear underneath, but all the better to feel the thick outline of your cock as you press yourself against his folds.

“No panties? You’re so gross Toru.” You grumble out whilst looking at his already wet cunt, your fingers dip in and he groans, he likes the thickness of your fingers it makes stretching him out to be so much easier, one fingers turns into two then that turns into three. When you deem him good enough for you, he hears your belt clinking and a loud sigh departing from your lips.

You pull his hair and angle his head back: “You’re average at best Toru, you should be happy I even gave someone as desperate as you a chance, remember I’m only doing this out of pity” you grunt out, Satoru has no feelings for you but he feels his heart clench and disperse at your words. You let him go to focus on lining your fat cock up with his hole, the stretch stings to him, what you “lack” in length you really make up for thickness, most likely the thickest he’s ever taken, you don’t offer him any reassurance when your cock pushes deeper and deeper.

Till you finally bottom out inside, you take a quick pause to admire him, you can’t see his face but already you knew his lips are bitten red, most likely on the verge of crying, you’re so incredibly mean.

You begin to move your hips, starting off slowly, you make sure to pull all the way out and slide right back in, eventually you start slamming into him roughly, uncaring of his startled gasps as he struggles to adjust, your cock feels so good, hitting so deeply inside of him, it’s really a different story when you find his sweet spot and press the tip of your cock against it.

His legs lock inwards, breathing hard into the seat, “This it Satoru?” He can hear the devilish smirk hidden in your voice, you continue to slam your hips against him angling downwards. “so..good” he had managed to slur out. He finds himself trying to paw away from his impending orgasm, he knows it’s gonna ache, knows it’s gonna also feel blissful, your hands grip his waist tighter, meaning to leave ugly bruises later. Pounding into him deep strokes makes him crazy, to add fuel to the fire your hands reach down and circle his clit rough, this action pushes Satoru over the edge and his pussy spasms around you.

He damn near screams, fingers digging deep into your seat, you fuck him through his orgasm, not long after you follow right after him, not even bothering to pull out, he doesn’t ask you to either.

Satoru slumps against your seat, panting and trying his hardest not to fall asleep, he feels your fingers spreading his pussy to admire your work of art.

“Your friend? What’s his name…? You know the pretty one with the long black hair?” Satoru feels his heart drop.

[orbital-inclination]

Horrortale Sans fandom flavors I’ve noticed Bastard TM - the most problematic fave TM - "my axe is my buddy. I never leave without him.” - nasty - all the mental illnesses - would feel perfectly at home in a campy horror movie, frankly - morbid sense of humor

the Puppy - scary on the outside, big softie on the inside - friend shaped - trying so hard not to relapse - it’s PTSD time baby! - frequently depicted with short term memory loss - either his motif is “lonely hunter in the woods” or “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach and I took that personally” and sometimes it’s both.

Yandere lite - obsessive, possessive and permissive - all the mental illnesses X2 - red flags buT HE LOVES YOU - he loves you so much - gives off so many kicked puppy vibes - just wants attention :(

[lisbonsteresa]

they make me so