#i still am figuring their color schemes

[op3ra]

design refreshes for my rusty and london wrench

[actual-haise]

Really wasn't expecting my final team for the main game pre-champion stuff to look like this

[sugucidal]

# HOW TO SEDUCE YOUR NEIGHBOR 101 !!

CHAPTER ii. [9.1k words]

୨୧‬┊pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! reader

୨୧‬┊synopsis: the shopping trip you were forced to go on with Toji doesn't go exactly as planned.

୨୧‬┊warnings: taboo cw! + semi-smut + age difference (reader is 19 and toji is 34 ) + slow burn + one-sided pining + attempt at humor + slice of life + reader takes multiple L's + megumi is mentioned + reader gets objectified (not by toji) + toji is a serial hoe

୨୧‬┊a/n: make sure to check out my main post! ive included a pinterest board for everything described + a playlist ♡

MAIN POST | part i. > part ii. > part ii.

You didn't know if it was a blessing in disguise, or a curse. Perhaps a cruel joke the world was playing on you like it always did. Yet here you were again, your knee high fluffy socks skidding across the oakwood flooring of your room, scouring through your closet like a deranged cat looking for something to wear on today's decor run.

"Shoes, shoes…I'm missing shoes," digging through the furthest corner in the enclosed space of your closet, you spotted an unopened box on one of the shelves. It was a simple pair of heeled, white mary janes with a heart buckle. You got it 2 birthdays ago but never saw an opportunity to wear them, until now.

Your mother told you that Toji was picking you up at 10:30 am despite you telling her that you would go after lunch.

'He's a busy man. He said this is the only time he's free today.'

"Yeah, of course he is. Always busy doing God knows what." Sighing, you decided on your ensemble for this morning. It was rushed and unplanned, but it would have to do.

Looking at the time on your phone, you saw that it was 10:15. You've still got 15 more minutes left till Toji arrives to pick you up. Letting out a breath, you sat on your bed, shoe cladded toes tapping the floor as your knee bounced, restlessly waiting.

Going over to your floor length mirror, you checked over your choice of outfit once more. It wasn't too cold of a day, so you opted for a knitted long sleeved, off-the-shoulder, cream toned sweater dress that hugged your curves. With its hem stopping just right underneath your ass.

You were debating between thigh highs or leg warmers, but decided leg warmers looked better scrunched down on your ankles with the shoes you opted to wear. You didn’t do much with your hair last night since you were only at home, but since you were going out in public today, you felt like doing something with it. Something cute specifically, as you opened your vanity drawer deciding which accessory to wear today. Picking some silk ribbon you saw laying about, you braided it into your hair, sealing it with a rubber band and tying an extra ribbon into a bow to conceal it. And finally, you had your bag. Well, more like bear. The teddy bear backpack you had on matched well with the neutral color scheme. So, you went for it. Honestly, you reminded yourself of a doll. A doll with a pretty face, and a whole lot of problems.

Taking a deep breath, you puffed out your chest. Your confident expression stared back at you, but on the other side of that mirror you felt nothing but anxiety simmering the longer you stood there in silence.

"I might as well wait for Toji outside then." It was no use standing around in your room. The bed looked way too inviting as it only made you think of excuses not to go. You wouldn't let your bed get the best of you this time.

Walking down the stairs, you headed towards the entrance, petting your cat's furry head along the way. Upon opening the door, you were met with the sight of freshly layered snow. It was thin, barely half an inch thick, but it already had you feeling a little better with the anticipation of making a snowman with it once the days got colder. You remember there was a time when you used to do that with Toji.

God, you can't even reminisce about the past without Toji having some part in it.

You desperately needed to figure out how you were going to do this.

Last night was a bust. Not much progress was made besides the fact that Toji actually spoke to you for the first time in years. Not that he had much chance to do so sooner even if he wanted to, with you a couple hours away from home and all. But it was the bare minimum. Right now you needed a plan, and you needed to think of one fast.

Standing against the railing of your porch, you sorted through your thoughts. You're going to get picked up by Toji in less than 10 minutes. You'll ride in his car, pretend that everything's okay because it is, you'll buy whatever this party needs, and if it goes well you'll confront him on the ride back home. And that'll be the end of that.

Easy.

But when is anything ever easy when it comes to that man. Nothing. The answer has always been nothing.

This line of thought has you so deep into your own frustration that you don't even realize you've been ranting to your teddy bear backpack. Murmuring to it harshly, and rolling your eyes like you're gossiping with a friend about the latest dumb thing that happened on Twitter today.

And it's only when you see a black pickup truck from your peripheral vision pulling up, that you stare back at the bear in horror. Mind being snapped back to the present, and feeling embarrassed that you were seen like this. A man was causing you this much turmoil, that you've been complaining to a damn backpack about it.

Quickly putting your bag back on, you smoothed out your sweater dress. You really fucking hope he didn't see that.

Facing towards the driveway you paused. Your eyes widened, already in awe at the vehicle as you saw it more clearly up close.

The last car you saw Toji with was an old, red Toyota truck. It did it’s job, but definitely not without a couple repairs here and there every so often (that you may or may not have checked him out while he was doing so.) So seeing this new, shiny, black Chevy parked right outside the driveway was definitely an exciting upgrade. The wheels were lifted, making the body higher than its original design, and the windows were tinted midnight black, making it nearly impossible to see who was inside unless you stuck a cheek to the glass.

Overall it was big, and intimidating.

Just like him.

'Guess those freelancing jobs paid off then.’

*BEEP BEEP*

Jesus. You didn't even notice Toji had already parked. How long were you just staring at it for? If he started to honk at you, it must’ve been more than what society deemed normal.

Running up to the passenger side of the truck, albeit meekly, you stopped right in front of the door just as the tinted windows were being pulled down giving you a better view of the inside. There sat Toji on the other side, upper body turned and facing towards you with one hand still on the wheel.

Toji’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets at your appearance but it was quickly masked by a look of amusement.

"You busy daydreaming or what?"

Ignoring his remark, you placed your hands on the edge of the cold glass, peering up at him and around the interior.

“So, new truck huh?”

"Oh this? Yeah, got it not too long ago after receiving my payment for….from work."

You squinted your eyes in suspicion, noticing that he caught his words, but you weren't going to question it. No, you were going to let it go. You knew he wouldn’t tell you anything anyway, most likely just brushing it off as suddenly being hit with a stutter. He never spoke about his “overseas” jobs that he apparently racked up stacks of cash from, and despite him saying it was only freelancing work, you had a hunch it was something a lot shadier than that. You weren’t that dumb. Which is exactly why you weren’t going to ask.

Choosing to stay oblivious, you gave a compliment instead. "It's nice, Toji. Really."

You were about to open the door to get in and cut the small talk short (and because you’d rather bask in the in-system heating than out in the cold) but it wouldn’t budge. It was still locked. Why isn’t he unlocking the door?

Instead of unlocking the door for you like normal people do when picking up a person with their car, Toji isn't exactly someone you'd consider normal. Instead, Toji looked you up and down slowly as an awkward silence took over. You stood there rigid, allowing him to unashamedly undress you with his eyes. At least you think that's what he was doing. He’s being really bold today…does he seriously not plan to open this door?!

Your mind was running a mile per minute. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but you kind of liked the attention he was giving you right now. Especially since he hadn’t bothered to give you any last night. Not that you blame him. Looks like the effort you had put in, despite being rushed, was working, leaving him dumbstruck. You felt proud that you managed to have him speechless.

Unfortunately, your sudden boost in ego was quickly shut down.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Oh. Talk about anticlimactic.

"Huh? W-what do you mean?"

"I mean," He stood there, a single eyebrow raised, and vaguely gesturing to your form with his hand, "This."

Looking around to see if anyone else was witnessing this, you quirked your head in question. "What about it?"

"I know ya didn't just decide to go out looking like that when it's freezing out here. Go back upstairs and put some real clothes on." He looked at you sternly with a scowl etching onto the scarred side of his lip, arms crossing in front of his chest.

Was Toji actually scolding you right now? The nerve of this guy!

You hadn’t seen it right away, but after staring back at him in disbelief at what you were hearing, you noticed his own personal ensemble.

There’s no damn way…

Looking up and down at him as he had done to you just moments prior, you saw that he was wearing an unzipped puffer jacket with a hoodie underneath which was fine, you had no issues regarding that. The problem was what he was wearing below.

This man, who was condemning you on your sweater dress because it was apparently unfit for “freezing” temperatures, was wearing shorts and slides. At least he wore socks with it, if he hadn’t you think you may have actually gone back home and let him do the shopping himself.

You couldn’t help but let out a short laugh, but quickly shut up after seeing Toji wasn’t finding this as amusing as you were.

This was crazy.

Tilting your head to the side, you scrunch your nose in disbelief. “You’re telling me to put warmer clothes on, when you’ve got shorts and slides on?”

Toji was quick to counter. “It’s not the same, don’t compare it.”

“Yeah it is!”

“Look kid, I’m not gonna argue with ya. Either change your clothes, or stay home.”

That’s exactly what you want to do. But you know deep down you can’t, you already told yourself you had to sort things out with him. And the first step to that, is sorting this out.

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After a couple pleading looks and adamant convincing of, 'I'm not cold!' 'I swear I'm fine. It doesn't even feel like winter out here!'

Toji relented. Letting out a sigh, shaking his head as he told you, 'Fine, whatever. But don’t come cryin’ at my feet when your stubborn ass gets sick and your mom gets mad at you.'

Now here you were, seated on the heated, brand new black leather seats of his Chevy after he finally gave in and unlocked the door, letting you in. You spent the trip with your head resting against the palm of your hand somberly, as you watched the scenery of snowy trees and other cars pass by.

The awkwardness throughout the entire car ride was at an all-time high. Higher than what it'd started out with earlier. You were both quiet; your brain a little less. Toji's disappointment regarding your attire was a total blow to your ego. You were just trying to look cute.

Not like it was meant for him anyway.

Is what you wanted to try convincing yourself in order to feel better, but really, you knew it was a lie.

As for Toji, that thought you had earlier about him ogling you? It was right on the money.

But he had to quickly save face by instead acting like a concerned adult worrying about the wellbeing of his innocent, young neighbor. If he was being honest, he didn’t give two shits about what you chose to wear. As long as it was for his eyes only.

Yes, he knew he’d hurt your feelings for telling you to go change. He understood that he was being overbearing and unreasonable especially after you brought up his own attire, but you had to understand. He physically couldn’t accept seeing you wearing an outfit that barely covered your ass like that in public when he should be the only one to see you looking like that. Yes, he was sick for looking at you that way and he knew that which is exactly why he needed you to cover up. Both so that no other creepy assholes (except himself) could see you that way, and because he doesn’t think he could control his thoughts about you for the next couple hours you have alone together. It’s why he had to shift in his seat a couple times. Though, you didn’t notice that.

This game you were playing with him? This seducing thing? With little skirts and shit, yeah it was doing something to him.

Maybe you haven’t changed as much as he thought. As they say, old habits die hard.

After about 15 more minutes of unspoken thoughts, you finally arrived at the store.

Why did you agree to do this again? Oh yeah, you didn't.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you took a deep breath to try and regain your composure. Just focus on the task. Opening the door, you hopped down and out onto the recently snow-shoveled pavement with Toji following suit as he turned off the truck, taking the keys from the ignition and shutting the door behind him.

You could feel Toji’s burning gaze boring into your back as he walked behind you, keeping a slight distance between you and him but still enough that people could tell that you two came together. Entering into the store, you whipped out your phone, unlocking it and clicking on the notes app filled with a list of things you needed to get that your mom instructed you two to buy. You crossed your fingers hoping you could get all this done quickly and smoothly.

Obviously, life loves to humor you because things did not go smoothly.

Everything was going well at first, you scoured the aisles looking for streamers, fairy lights, pretty napkins, silver and white balloons, and whatever else was needed; putting it all into the basket that Toji was holding, still following you like a sort of puppy—or more like a guard dog with the menacing aura he carried around himself with every step he took.

Walking around you’d occasionally find something that caught your eye, tinkering around with the item for a couple seconds before putting it back down and walking over to the next intriguing thing—like a snow globe you found of a character you recognized filled with pink and white sparkly snow. You bet your ass you added that one to the basket. That hello kitty snow globe was a need, not a want. How something like that even found its way to a store like this was beyond you, but hey, you weren’t complaining.

You even found cute little hats while looking around and managed to get Toji to wear a pair of elf ears while you wore a Santa hat, telling him a silly joke about how he was Santa’s jolliest helper. That only earned you a huff, and roll of his eyes as he took off the ears and pulled the hat you wore down over your face, chuckling as he watched you make dramatics about how you were being suffocated despite being able to breathe perfectly fine.

Interacting like this with him gave you butterflies. You’d let him ruin your perfectly styled hair if it meant things were going back to the way they used to be between you both.

Everything was going fine.

You were actually having…fun. Which you hadn’t anticipated. You were so caught up about feeling like you were on thin ice with Toji, and though you still sort of felt that way, you felt ecstatic that things were beginning to feel normal. Like nothing even happened.

“Hmm, looks like the last thing on this list are more scented candles. Thought we already had some? Oh well.” You shrugged your shoulders. You think your own obsession with candles might have stemmed from your mom now that you think about it.

Toji leaned his body over your shoulder, looking down over your list himself at the check marked boxes except for one. You immediately stiffened up, not expecting him to get so close to you, and especially not for him to make body contact with you. You wish you didn’t have all these layers in the way. You internally shook the thought off before it could escalate. Now was not the time to be having these touched starved thoughts!

Pulling away from you, but still keeping close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body, he put the basket down next to your feet. “Yeah, I saw a couple of those on the other aisle we passed by.”

“Oh good! One of us can get it. Stay here and I’ll quickly-“ Your suggestion didn’t even have a chance to reach the other end of Tojis ears before it got shut down.

“Nah, you stay here, and stay put while I grab it. And don’t go straying off you understand, kid?” Toji looked down at you, waiting for your answer. He’d rather not leave your side, especially since he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t get distracted by something and walk off like a lost mouse-but he tried to reason out in his head that it was only one item. He’d quickly get it and come back, and you’d still be there.

You weren’t going anywhere.

So why did he find it so hard to walk away from you? Must be some type of trauma he thinks.

Nodding your head, with a ‘Mhm! Promise. Not going anywhere. Nope, staying put.’ Toji searched your face to see if you were lying but decided you weren’t, and began jogging off towards another aisle in a different section of the store.

He couldn’t help but have a bad feeling about this as he looked over at all the scented candles, picking up the most expensive looking ones.

“S’not my money anyway..”

Maybe he should’ve just taken you along with him. It’s not like it would’ve caused the both of you any more hassle than going alone would. Shit. Something was gnawing at Toji to hurry the hell up and get back to you. As he briskly walked to the aisle where he had left you, he was met with something far worse than overpriced décor, and it had him seething.

There you were, face scrunched up, and looking highly uncomfortable as some random guy, around your age it seemed, was trying to flirt with you.

Keyword: Trying.

Toji didn’t know who this guy was but he knew damn well what was happening, and he wasn't going to let it slide. Not on his watch. That he wasn't even wearing. 

You hadn't noticed Toji's arrival yet. Still preoccupied with keeping calm and trying to ignore this random man that thought it would be chivalrous of himself to make comments about your body. Saying things about how he doesn't know why your man let you out like that, and if you were his bitch he wouldn't let you out his sight.

It's a good thing Toji wasn't there to hear any of that.

What Toji did hear as he was silently coming up behind the both of you, that almost made him run up and deck the guy in the nuts was when he leaned his body down exaggeratedly to look at your ass and said, "DAMN. That's more ass than…. I've seen….in a while!"

This prick didn't even know where the hell he was going with that line, but Toji sure knew where that guy was gonna end up if he tried it again.

At this point, you were more than ready to kick this guy in the balls, but you didn't want to anger him. Who knows what this guy has got going on in his head? He's harassing you at a decor store for fucks sake!

Before you were thinking about making a run for it to the direction of where Toji had gone, deeming your situation helpless without him; it seemed like someone finally answered your prayers because the moment you looked back, there he was standing right behind the both of you.

'How did I not notice him?? He's wearing slides for god sake! I should've heard the 'plip' 'plaps'!'

"The fuck are you doing?"

The guy was still leaning down when Toji spoke up. He was about to cuss out whoever this other guy was for interrupting his daily "I objectify women for fun" hobby, until he looked up. There Toji stood, 6'2, built like he was made for war, in his shorts and slides, holding candles, and a look so threatening etched onto his face, you think this guy may have almost shit his pants. If the audible gulp meant anything.

"O-oh fuck. Look sir, I was just admiring your hard work, very beautiful daughter you have here. Didn't realize…Sorry." The way he ran away was almost pitiful. Almost. But none of you had any pity for trash.

'Well that was quick', Toji thought. He assumed he might've had to light up this candle he was holding and choke him with it but it seems that wouldn't be happening today.

That's one less crime the authorities could pinpoint on him.

Turning his attention towards you, he asked if you were alright.

"Sort of…not really. Being objectified isn't exactly the greatest feeling…" Toji noticed the way you hugged your hands around yourself, most likely trying to cover up. Suddenly feeling too exposed for comfort despite attempting to brush the interaction off.

Maybe you should've listened to Toji earlier and changed your clothes to something more fitting for winter weather. Screw looking cute.

Though, the regret didn't have a chance to get very far because suddenly you were being brought back to the present.

"Lift your arms up."

Huh? "Wh- why?" The next thing he did nearly had your heart leaping out of your chest. Taking off his puffer jacket, he nudged your arms to lift up so he could help put it through the holes of the sleeves. After checking to make sure it was on properly, he zipped it up a bit more than halfway and patted you down in an effort to make you look a little bit less like the emo version of the Michelin Man.

"You gonna be okay?" You were still a little surprised at the gesture, especially since it was coming from him of all people, but you answered, "..Yeah. Yeah, I'll be okay."

"Good. Lemme finish paying for all this crap and I'll drop you off at your place."

Leading the way towards the cashier, he placed his large palm over your lower back and kept it there until your goods were paid for, and you were out the door.

Situating yourself on the seats of Toji's car, you couldn't help but feel a smile creep up on you, desperately trying to bite it back. You're wearing his coat.

He put his coat on you.

You think you could die of happiness right now. But, you'll save that for later. That whole fiasco that happened at the store still had your mood all sour. You really didn't want to go home yet. And as Toji began to pull out of the parking lot, you spoke up.

"Toji? I don't really feel like going home yet.."

"Yeah? Aight. We'll stop somewhere, I know a place."

Nodding your head, you mumbled a 'thanks', grateful that he took the hint and didn't try to argue with you or ask any questions. Toji can be empathetic when he wants to be sometimes.

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Apparently, when Toji said he 'knew a place', you didn't expect it to be…this.

"Cinnabon? Really?"

"What? You don't like their cinnamon buns? We can go someplace else if you don't want em.” 

You paused. Well, now that you were thinking about it…"Okay. Yeah. Yeah, I do like those."

“Besides,” Walking over to the counter to order, Toji got into line, “I remember ya telling me one time that you liked this place." 

He still remembers something like that? 

You didn’t answer. Instead you followed the nod of Toji’s head telling you to leave the ordering to him and to go find a table to sit at. Looking around, you saw that all the tables were already preoccupied. Damn. Walking back to Toji, you suggested ordering it to go and just finding some place else to sit at like that wooden bench you saw just outside the establishment, which he seemed to favor far more.

Leaving him to his vices, you exited the shop and went to sit outside on the storefront bench, patiently waiting for Toji to get back with your food. Looking around there was still a thin sheet of snow covering some areas of the pavement, most having melted throughout the day or driven over by now. Yet it seemed as though the temperature had no plans of rising as you breathed out a puff of steam, remaining at its crisp, nearly frosty condition. It felt peaceful.

The few minutes of alone time you had to yourself was the most silence your brain has allowed itself to be in within the 24 hours of Tojis reintroduction into your life. 

The oversized puffer jacket you still had on made those hours feel shorter by reminding you of just how much "excitement" had managed to happen—you bet you looked silly as hell with it engulfing your frame, but you couldn't find it in you to care about that at this moment. Especially since it was serving its purpose of protecting you against the cold that you found yourself surrounded by as you sat there waiting.

Leaning back against the wood, you felt something hindering you from going all the way. Your teddy bear backpack. You forgot you even had it on as it was hidden underneath the coat Toji had quickly put on you. Yeah, you must've looked really stupid. Fighting back a grimace and ignoring the fact for your own peace of mind, you went to remove the coat. Leaving it piled behind you on the bench as you took off your bag, placing it onto your lap. 

Reaching into your bag, you took out your trusty emergency makeup kit. Wouldn't hurt to do a quick touch up… Looking over in the direction of the sudden sound of a bell being rung, you peered over to your left to see that it was just someone stepping foot out the shop with a cup of what looked to be hot chocolate. 

'Hopefully Toji get's back soon.'

Focusing back on the task at hand, you clicked open a compact inspecting the state of the way you looked with the mirror. The sight that greeted you brought out a breath of relief. Not a single thing out of place. But just in case, you patted on a little bit of powder for good measure, and reapplied your clear lipgloss so the cold air could struggle to nip at your lips. 

After assessing what needed to be assessed, you put your pouch back into your bag and immediately piped up at the sound of the door chiming again. You couldn't help but do a small cheer as you saw that it was finally Toji approaching you, carrying a bag containing your icing drenched cinnamon bun, a hot drink of some sort, and a bottle of water. 

Handing you your food and drink, you thanked him and immediately dug in once it was within your grasp. Taking a bite, a bit of steam emitted from the warm and gooey bun melting on your tongue, flooding your taste buds with a mix of sweet and nutty spice. Damn, you were a lot hungrier than you thought. But you suppose that's due to having skipped breakfast in the morning. Stuffing more into your mouth, your eyes met Toji's to see him already sitting beside you and looking down at you, snickering.

"Hwat?" The question came out muffled from your cheeks being stuffed like a squirrel.

He looked off to the side for a second, still snickering before he answered, "Nothin." 

Swallowing your food down harshly, you pouted with your brows scrunched together and took notice that you were the only one eating. 

"How come you didn't get yourself one?"

He deadpanned. "I don't want diabetes." 

"Right…of course not…" Such a Toji answer, you thought.

It felt a little weird to be the only one eating, but he kept refusing everytime you asked if he was absolutely sure he didn’t at least want a bite. It was silent between you two except for the occasional slurp of your drink, and you think Toji noticed it too because suddenly he started conversing with you, catching up a little bit on how the both of you have been.

"So kid, how's the university life been treatin' ya?"

"Hm? Oh uhm, it's been alright I guess." You shrugged, fork still in hand.

"Just alright? Sounds pretty lackluster to me."

"It is." You sighed. 

"You tellin' me you don't, what- party? Or done those weird cultist initiations you kids do at sororities." 

"Yeah…no. I'm too busy actually studying most of the time. I've been to like 2-ish? parties, but that's about it. And sororities? You couldn't possibly pay me to join one of those.” You’ve heard one too many stories of premature deaths being caused by sororities. You didn’t particularly feel like gambling your chances. Plus, you weren’t really into the whole sisterhood-brotherhood thing, too weird.

As the conversation progressed between your frankly unexciting school life, Toji recalled some neighborhood fiasco that happened while you were away. 

"...Then this kid's boyfriend starts beating up the guy that tried to take her purse."

"No way! This really happened in our neighborhood? Where like.. nothing ever happens?" To think that a crime had actually happened in the most safest, suburban of neighborhoods that you lived in for your whole life and you weren't there to witness it.

"I'm tellin' ya it was set up to make himself look good. A robbery in broad daylight? In this neighborhood? Bullshit."

"Why does all the exciting shit always happen when I'm not around?" You whined, sighing out your disappointment.

Closing the box to your nearly finished cinnamon bun and placing it beside you on the bench, you suddenly remembered something. 

"By the way! My mom told me you have a son? How come you never mentioned him to me before?"

And just like that, Tojis brows immediately furrowed as if the question was one he hadn't expected to be asked, especially not coming from you. Leaning forward with a grunt, he rested an elbow on his knee, propping a palm under his chin as he proceeded to look at you with the most dramatically bored expression you’ve ever seen on someone's face- one that rivaled even yours.

It screamed, ‘let's get this shit over with.’

"You never asked. Besides, why you askin' about him now?" 

You noticed the way his mood instantly changed after mentioning him but...it was probably nothing right?

Regardless, he didn't seem to be exactly… excited at the mention of his son, so you treated lightly with your next words. “Well, my mom is telling me that I should start looking for a good boy to date and she mentioned your son.” 

He laughed out in disbelief. “Gumi? That boy? Ha, good luck with that. He wouldn’t know the first thing on how to treat a girl.” 

He couldn’t treat you the way I could. Is what he wanted to say. 

Awkwardly you answered, “Well… anyway, I don't think he even goes to my Uni…I think. So it wouldn't really be an option.” 

Toji stayed silent. 

The sudden uncomfortable silence that took over had you overthinking all over again. 

What's wrong? Does he have a bad relationship with his son? Is that why he looks irritated? Should I ask? No. He might get more irritated. Shit. Okay, subject change.

Slamming your hands onto your thighs a little too hard in an attempt to calm your nerves, the sound seemed to catch Tojis attention. Snapping him out of whatever trance he was in, and back to his usual demeanor.

You rubbed your arms out of awkwardness. “Sooo, yeah. Sucks, I wasn't there to witness a fraudulent act of chivalry right in my own neighborhood."

Toji was thankful you moved on from the topic of his son, he didn’t want to think of that little squirt right now. 

But then it got him wondering…

"You ever had a boyfriend before?" 

The question surprised you a little. Okay maybe a lot. You didn't think he'd be even remotely interested in your love life. 

"No… I've never had one." While there was no shame in not having had a significant other at your age, still you couldn't help but feel embarrassed admitting it to Toji.

Toji raised a brow in suspicion. "You sure you're staying clear of boys?" 

This behavior he was exhibiting was starting to confuse the hell out of you. First he scolds you on your attire this morning, and now he's interrogating you on your love life? He was being way overprotective, almost acting as a parent, and it was seriously beginning to make you feel hopeless. 

You nodded. "Yes, Toji. I'm not interested in college guys. They don't know what they're doing,"

That answer seemed to be good enough for Toji, but to both his and your utter surprise you continued, "But I've done other things."

Straightening his back up against the wooden bench in interest, Toji beckoned you to continue on. Truth be told, he didn't want to hear you talking about boys. Just the thought of you with some dumbass little boy made him irrationally bothered. But there was one thing itching at him to ask. 

One thing he simply had to know.

"Oh yeah?"

"Just casual stuff. Nothing serious.."

Toji hummed. It was cute how you were beating around the bush about whatever 'things' you've done. He'll humor you this time around.

"We talkin' the 'clothes on' type of stuff?"

"Well…not exactly.." 

Your lack of elaboration following your answer made Toji egg you on further.

"Don't start gettin' all shy on me now. Let me take a guess, this has somethin' to do with how you mentioned that college boy's don't know what they're doing, yeah?

And like clockwork, the words proceeded to flow past the tip of your tongue without a second thought.

"Remember how I also mentioned earlier that I've gone to only a few parties? Well at one of those parties, I got left alone by my friends in favor of hooking up with some guys they thought were hot." 

"Sounds like some shitty friends." 

You grunted. "Tell me about it. Anyways, here I am, sitting alone on this couch that's thankfully only mildly sticky from whatever wasted student had spilled their drink on top of it, and this guy sits right next to me. We talk, things happen, and we find an empty room."

Toji hums, signaling to you that he's still listening.

Immediately, irritation is apparent on your face by the way your eyes narrow as you recall the memory. "He puts his hands in my pants and this dumbass can't for the life of him find where my clit is and is just rubbing around. Then he has the nerve to ask if I came yet!? Bitch I'm not even moaning!"

Toji nods, intently listening to your rant. Biting back his amusement at your outburst.

"And the same fuckin thing happens again except with a different guy I had been seeing for less than a week. Except—get this, he asks me what a clit is. Like are you for real!?"

Taking a deep breath, you tried channeling your nerves. "So that's that. College boy's don't know where the clit is—hell, they don't even know of its existence." 

Slumping your shoulders, you kicked at the tiny stones on the cement with your shoe. 

"It's why I've never gone further than that." 

If you were being honest, even if those guys did know their way around a woman's body, you don't think you could find it within yourself to stick around for it. You already knew what your mind was banging against your skull to say. Deep down, somewhere in the backrooms of your brain, you know it's because of Toji. It's always been him; the man you're still holding out for. Hoping he'd be the one to take your virginity. 

Whatever. It was a pipe dream anyway. And you definitely weren't going to tell him that.

Speaking of telling him…

‘Why did you tell him all that!? Why did you have to run your mouth!!’

You stammered out an apology. The gravity of what you just up and confessed dawned on you, leaving you a cringing mess from within.

"I-I'm sorry…I don't even know why im telling you all this-"

Toji is quick to dismiss the apology. Truth be told, he was delighted to hear that you were still a virgin.

“Don't worry bout it’. It's nothing to be embarrassed of.

“I mean yeah…but still…”

Turning to face you, Toji placed his hand gingerly upon your thigh, giving it a light squeeze in what you assumed to be an attempt at reassurance or maybe it was comfort? You couldn't really tell, you just knew that the warmth of it felt nice.

“Listen, if I’m tellin’ you that being a virgin is nothin’ to be ashamed of, then its not. Look at it this way, you ain’t a teen mom, something not many can say nowadays.” He shrugged.

He kind of had a point. Though his comforting skills were kind of ass.

“Yeah..okay. Thanks for listening then.”

“No problem.” 

You thought after your little rant the atmosphere would return to its awkward state as it seems that's how it had been every time you spoke with Toji—yet oddly enough, it felt like you had somehow managed to get closer to him by opening up about your struggles. 

Suddenly feeling a spout of hunger befall you once more, you took the last remaining bite of your cinnamon bun, slowly licking off the icing that had gotten smeared onto your lips. 

Toji eyed the action intently, internally shaking a head at himself. 

‘This little minx..’  but before you could make eye contact he abruptly withdrew his hand, fishing a phone out his pocket and checking the time. Huh, you hadn't even noticed his hand had still been on you.

“It's already almost 4, think it's time to call it a day.”

With a sound of surprise, you rose up from your seat, closing the box once more as you watched Toji stand up from his own spot, already patting on his pockets for the car keys. 

You hadn't even noticed that much time had gone by.

“Thanks again for the cinnamon buns and of course, for listening.” 

Toji only hummed in acknowledgement.

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The ride home was spent surrounded by the sounds of muffled radio chatter, ever so slightly noticeable with the engine of the truck at a constant thrum. The sun surprisingly hadn't gone down yet as it typically would have on any other winter day and you made sure to thank your lucky stars for those few more minutes of sunlight.

On the other hand, you couldn't help but feel sad. You didn't want the day to end yet, especially not when progress had been made between the two of you. Then it hit you, progress had been made. While you didn't actually confront him about what had transpired on that faithless day, it was still worth celebrating. 

Baby steps are still steps after all. 

And the more you thought about it, it began to occur to you that today…today kinda felt like a date. In a messed up sense. To others this would've been a failure of a day, but to you? You were elated.

‘Maybe now's my chance to talk to him about what happened back then.’

Sitting up just a little bit straighter in your seat, you turned your head to face Toji, contemplating on the right words to say to him. Just when you were on the verge of starting your sentence, Toji’s phone suddenly began to ring, vibrating atop the center console. 

Without bothering to check who was calling him, Toji answered the phone, putting it on speaker. Nothing to be worried about anyway, probably some scammer giving Toji his routine call.

“Yo, what’s up?”

Without a second to waste, a feminine voice practically cried from the other end.

“Tojiiii, baby it’s been so long, when are you coming over?? You know I miss you-” 

Before this unknown lady could hope to finish her sentence, she was abruptly hung up on–courtesy of Tojis hand flying to take the call off speaker, fumbling for a good second only to ultimately end the call for good measure.

Clearing his throat, Toji continued to keep his eyes focused on the road ahead. Can't be having you both end up in a car crash right? 

“Sorry about that, that was… just one of my old close friends.”

“Uh huh. Ya’ll must've been real close.”

Toji ignored the snark.

“Anyways, go ahead, what were you saying?” 

“I…wasn’t saying anything.”

Thankfully the call was received just minutes short of arriving at your home. Pulling into the driveway, the truck on neutral, you waited a few seconds to see if Toji would say anything more. He didn’t.

Holding back a shaky sigh, you unbuckle your seatbelt and exited the vehicle, opening the passenger side to pick up the bags of decor that you went to buy in the first place.

“Wait, let me help ya out-” Toji last minutely interjected as he turned his body over in his seat to face you.

“No need. I already got it.” Picking up the last bag (thankfully they weren’t very heavy), you slammed the passenger door shut. You contemplated giving Toji a proper farewell bidding but with the way you were feeling right now? You didn’t want him to see the ache painted in your eyes. Instead, you continued walking down the shoveled path and up the steps to your house, fishing the keys out from your keychain and unlocking the door, closing it behind you.

Kicking your shoes off and slipping some slippers onto your feet, you laid the bags over the kitchen counter letting whoever discovered them first deal with the contents inside as you made your way up the stairs to your room, plopping onto your bed face first.

You nearly teared up at your own naivety.

Holy shit. ‘I’m so stupid.’ Was all you could think of as the booty call Toji had received replayed in your mind. This wasn’t any new information on Toji that you hadn’t already known about yet it hurt so bad. 

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On the other hand, Toji couldn’t help but feel the same way. When he saw you safely get back into your home, he shifted gears to reverse, pulling out the driveway and driving back to his own place. 

Closing his eyes for a moment, he pulled out his phone from the cup holder it fell into amidst his struggle to end the call earlier and proceeded to call them back.

One ring was all it took for them to answer, and one second was all it took for Toji to cut them off before they could say anything more.

“Don’t fuckin’ call me again, understand? Good. Now, fuck off.” Hanging up before she could respond or attempt to call back like an idiot, he blocked her.

Letting out a rather loud groan of irritation, he gripped the steering wheel with both hands in indignation, letting his head fall as he could feel a headache coming on.

“Fuck.”

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Laying on your bed disappointed, you curled up thinking about the events that transpired earlier. The whole trip felt like an actual date—up until that call anyway. It was probably the worst way the day could have ended. Your bad luck was unimaginable.

“I need to find myself a four leaf clover or something at this point…”

Honestly, you didn't want to get out of bed. You wanted to lay down and wilt like a flower that never gets any sunlight. Stuffing your face into your arm, it occured to you that you were still wearing Toji’s jacket. 

“Maybe I should stop trying to go after someone who’ll never like me back…” You mumbled to yourself, sitting up and throwing the coat towards the nearest chair it could land on.

Were you really this delusional? You saw the way he was looking at you—you shook your head, trying not to overthink it. 

‘I guess I had the wrong idea.’

Feeling defeated, you knew if you wanted to continue moping about this, you’d have to do it after a shower; lest you end up skipping your skincare routine leaving you with another thing to sulk about.

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You couldn’t sleep.

Restless, you tossed and turned trying to find that sweet spot that would have you suddenly waking up to the birds singing. Come the fuck on..! I just want to sleep, dammit!

Grunting, it seemed no matter where you tried to place yourself within the comfort of your sheets and plethora of pillows engulfing you, you just couldn’t seem to knock yourself out.

Only one option left.

Slipping a hand underneath the blanket, you let your fingers wander across your skin. Giving each of your tits a soft squeeze under your shirt as you slowly began to relax, sighing in content at a teasing roll of your bud, slowly hardening at your touch. 

Growing tired of the teasing and beginning to feel heavy with need, you ran a finger down your panties, keeping it firmly pressed against your slit as you slowly raised your hips up and down in tandem with your middle finger, rubbing yourself over the cotton material. You could feel yourself getting hotter, wetter. A small, sticky patch of your own arousal seeping through the garment as you finally had enough, moving your panties to the side and making contact with your sickened clit. You wasted no time in parting your lips with your pinky and index, and letting both your middle and ring finger draw tight circles over your bundle of nerves. Immediately settling into a steady rhythm that was sure to have you quickly coming undone. 

As your breathing picked up, so did the small whimpers escaping through your lips. You tried your best to stay as quiet as possible, but fuck was it hard when all you wanted to do was mewl out a certain someones name, imagining it was him playing with your pussy like this. 

Toji. 

Even just sounding his name out in your head had you bucking your hips against the friction you were creating. His large, warm hand stuffed down your panties, and cupping your pussy from behind while rubbing at the entire expanse of your puffy cunt messily. Fast. Drenching his palm in your juices. Wondering what it'd feel like to have his long, fat fingers plunge into you as your own currently probes at your clenching hole, dipping in slightly only to take it back out. It didn't feel—wouldn't feel nearly as good unless it were his. 

You felt so close. Your fingers were starting to ache as you exerted them, moving it against your swollen clit quicker than before. It started to hurt, but the feeling of adrenaline rushing through you to finish made your brain block it out, replacing it with the endorphins of white hot pleasure that you anticipated to burst at any minute now. 

You clamped your legs around your hand, curling into your side like a ball. You wanted to stop, it was too much. But you were so fucking close. Your shaky whines were no longer being held back, eyes squeezed shut and the side of your face pressed against your pillow muffling it as best you could to prevent it from being heard outside. 

Just a little more…

Come on come on come on..! Your hand wouldn't stop unless your body reached its peak, only increasing in its pace. Holding your breath, the sound of your palpating heart was deafening as you continued letting out harsh pants.

You felt the familiar feeling of your lower abdomen tightening, coiling up and finally bursting like a dam. Your toes curled up as you threw your head back further into the pillow, unable to stop the sudden cry of Toji’s name that accidentally slipped out from your parched mouth at the pressure of your orgasm rushing over you like a tidal wave.

Before you could bask in your post orgasmic bliss, Toji bursts through your door. The fucking man himself. In the flesh..?

In a panic, you pull your stiff hand away from between your legs as if it were scalding hot oil, grasping the blanket up towards your chin to cover what you’d just been essentially caught doing.

“Heard you screamin’ my name out, sweetheart.” 

You’d think any normal reaction to being intruded on by the person you were just fantasizing about would be to first ask some questions—yet there you laid calm as a cucumber, watching as he inched closer to you.

Toji smirked. “Don’t start gettin’ all shy on me now. Let me hear you scream my name again for me.”  

You don’t know how he got to you so quickly but Toji was already slipping his hand under the covers towards your pussy, finding it slick and sticky from your high, smearing it all over as he ran his fingers up and down your sensitive slit. 

Retracting his hand back from underneath, he relished in the way your arousal stuck to his fingers like a spider's web as he spread them out, glistening against the soft lighting of your suddenly oddly hazy looking room.

Fueled with newfound urgency, Toji threw the covers off of you, yanking your body up to stand on the floor as you both made your way towards your vanity, back hitting the edge of it as you steadied yourself against Toji's chest. It was all moving too quickly. Too fast. Before you could stop to process your surroundings properly, Toji’s large hand hastily groped your tits as his other fingers that were touching on your pussy earlier prodded at your mouth to open. Without a word, you wrapped your lips around them like a good girl, sucking—tasting yourself before he removed them in order to turn you around. 

Just then, you realized you both were naked as Toji lifted one of your legs up onto the vanity, dragging his wet fingers over his cock as he moved to align it with your dripping hole. You couldn't form a thought. As if on autopilot. Only the unbridled, desperate need to have Toji in you remained.  

No. Scratch that. You felt your own thoughts before you could form them, as if it weren’t your own. It definitely was though. You don’t think anyone could too how fucking badly you wanted this man. Now he was finally about to fuck you? You may as well have been the luckiest woman on planet earth.

And as you begin to feel the sensation of Toji's cock about to enter you—confirming that notion, the door to your room bursts open again.

Wait.

“Wake up.”

What?  

“Wake up!”

Is that my fucking cat talking!?

“WAKE UP!”

Groggily opening your eyes, you're met with early winter sun seeping through your thin curtains, casting a hazy glow into your room. You hear birds singing.

“What the hell was that…” Stretching the sleep out of your limbs, you noticed your hand was still situated inside your panties. 

You closed your eyes, trying to recall your dream. “So half of that was real?” Well, up until Toji bursted into your room, you suppose. And when your cat spoke up telling you to wake the fuck up. 

Ugh.

Sitting up, you rubbed your eyes, leaning over the bedside to pull your diary sitting on your nightstand towards your lap. You had to write this shit down. 

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After jotting down as much as you could recall from the dream without mixing it up with what you were actually getting up to in real life, you left the diary on the same vanity dream version Toji almost dicked you down on. 

Throughout the day, you couldn’t stop thinking about Toji. Hell, your feelings for him increased tenfold just from that measly dream alone. You don't know if it's solely your dreams doing that made you feel like you suddenly had a genuine chance with him but fuck it. 

You thought about the events of yesterday and recalled when he grasped your thigh. That couldn’t have just been nothing right? The way he eyed your lips too as you licked icing off them. He didn't think you noticed, but you did. Of course you did. It was on purpose after all. 

And the icing on the cake? When you brought up his son, Megumi. You didn't want to assume anything but you could've sworn you sensed jealousy swimming in those green eyes of his. How ironic.

Shit, maybe you do have a chance with Toji after all. All he needs is a little push.

With all the evidence stacked up in your favor, you knew you had to devise a plan.

A plan on how to seduce your neighbor.

You giggled to yourself. 

“Mama chose a thought daughter.”

© SUGUCIDAL 2024 — All rights reserved. Do not copy, modify, or redistribute my work without permission.

[wombywoo]

Ok! I've finally decided to put together a (somewhat) comprehensive tutorial on my latest art~

Please enjoy this little step-by-step 💁‍♀️

First things first--references!

Now I'm not saying you have to go overboard, but I always find that this is a crucial starting point in any art piece I intend on making. Especially if you're a detail freak like me and want to make it as realistic as possible 🙃

As such, your web browser should look like this at any given point:

Since this is a historical piece, it means hours upon hours of meaningless research just to see what color the socks are, but...again. that isn't, strictly, necessary 😅

Once I've compiled all my lovely ref pics, I usually dump them into a big-ass collage ⬇️

(I will end up not using half of these, alas :'D)

Another reference search for background material, and getting to showcase our models of choice for this occasion~

When picking a reference for an actor or model, the main thing I keep in mind (besides prettiness 🤭) is lighting and orientation. Because I already kinda know what pose I'm gonna go with for this piece, I can look for specific angles that might fit the criteria. I should mention that I am a reference hound, and my current COD actor ref folder looks like this:

Also keep in mind, if you're using a ref that you need to flip, make sure you adjust accordingly. This especially applies to clothing, as certain things like pants zippers and belt buckles can be quite specific ☝️

Now that we've spent countless hours googling, it's time to start with a rough sketch:

It doesn't have to be pretty, folks, just a basic guideline of where you want the figures to be.

The next step is to define it more, and I know this looks like that 'how to draw an owl' meme, but I promise--getting from the loose sketch above to below is not that difficult.

Things to keep in mind are--don't go too in-depth with the details, because things are still subject to change at this point. In terms of making a suitable anatomically-correct sketch, I would suggest lots of studying. This doesn't even have to be things like figure drawing, I genuinely look at people around me for inspiration all the time. Familiarize yourself with the human form, and things like weight, proportions, posing will seem a little more feasible.

It's also important at this stage to consider your composition. Remember to flip the canvas frequently to make sure you're not leaning to one side too often. I'm sure something can be said for the spiral fibonacci stuff, which I don't really try to do on purpose, but I think keeping things like symmetry and balance in mind is a good start ✌️

Next step is just blocking in the figures. Standard. No fuss 👍

Now onto the background!

It's frankly hilarious how many people thought I was *hand-drawing* these maps and stuff 😂😂 I cannot even begin to comprehend how insanely difficult that would be. So yeah, we're just taking the lazy copy and paste way out 🤙

I almost always prepare my backgrounds first, and this is mostly to get a general color scheme off the bat. For collage work, it's really just a matter of trial and error, sticking this here, slapping this there, etc. I like to futz around with different overlay options until I've found a nice arrangement. Advice for this is just--go nuts 🤷‍♀️

Next, I add a few color adjustments. I tend to make at least 2 colors pop in an art piece, and low and behold, they usually tend to be red and blue ❤️💙There's something about warm/cool vibes, idk man..

Now we move on to coloring the figures. This is just a basic block and fill, not really defining any of the details yet.

Next, we add some cursory values. Sloppy airbrush works fine, it'll look better soon I promise 🙏

And now--rendering!

I know a lot of beginner artists are intimidated by rendering, and I can totally understand why. It's just one of those things you have to commit to 💪

I've decided to show a brief process of rendering our dear Johnny's face here:

Starting off, I usually rely on the trusty airbrush just to get some color values going. Note--I've kept my sketch layer on top, but feel free to turn it on and off as you work, so as to not be too bound to the sketch. For now, it's just a guideline.

This next stage may look like a huge jump, but it's really just adding more to the foundation. I try to think of it like putting on make-up in a way~ Adding contours, accentuating highlights. This is also where I start adding in more saturation, especially around areas such as ears, nose and lips. Still a bit fuzzy at this point, but that's why we keep adding to it 💪

A boy has appeared! See--now I've removed most of the line layer, and it holds up on its own. I'll admit that in order to achieve this realistic style, you'll need lots and lots of practice and skill, which shouldn't be discouraging! Just motivate yourself with the prospect of getting to look at pretty men for countless hours 🙆‍♀️

I'll probably do a more in-depth explanation about rendering at some point, but let's keep this rolling~

Moving forward is just a process of adding to the figures bit by bit. I do lean towards filling in each section from top to bottom, but you can feel free to pop around to certain parts that appeal to you more. I almost always do the faces first though, because if they end up sucking, I feel less guilty about scrapping it 😂 But no--I think he's pretty enough to proceed 😚

They're coming together now 🙆‍♀️ Another helpful tip--make sure you reuse color. By that, I mean--try to incorporate various colors throughout your piece, using the eyedropper tool to keep a consistent palette. I try to put in bits of red and blue where I can

Here they are fully rendered! Notice I've made a few subtle changes from the sketch, like adjusting the belt buckles because I made a mistake 😬 Hence why you shouldn't put too much stock in your initial sketch~

The next step is more of a stylistic choice, but I usually go over everything with an outline, typically in a bright color like green. Occasionally, I can just use my initial line layer, but for this, I've made a brand new, cleaner line 👍

And the final step is adjusting the color and adding some text:

Tada!! It's done!

All in all, this took me the better part of a week, but I have a lot of free time, so yeah ✌️

I hope you appreciated that little walkthrough~ I know people have been asking me how I do my art, but the truth is--I usually have no clue how to explain myself 😅 So have this half-assed tutorial~

As a bonus, here is a cute (cursed) image of Johnny without his mustache:

A baby, a literal infant child !!! who put this wee bairn on the front lines ??! 😭

Anyway! peace out ✌️

[kairiscorner]

So I was watching the live adaptation of the addams family (released in 1991)

AND MHIEEEE,,,,,,,,

There’s this one scene where Gomez is looking down at Morticia

And his dialogue…..

“Look at her. I would die for her. I would kill for her.”

AND I CANNOT, FOR THE LIFE OF ME, STOP THINKING ABT MIGUEL IN THIS SCENE

Like babes have we ever considered gothic!miggy b4 bc

Bc….

ATE NALOLOKA NA PO AKO SAYO /hinimatay ngl i can't see current miggy as a goth, but younger miggy? oh hell yeah, he'd probably try out a goth aesthetic huhu MMMMMMM I WANNA WRITE THIS NGL ACK

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

i mean it when i say... i'd kill for you, i'd die for you. – miguel o'hara x reader

there are times when he has to ask himself, really get himself thinking–"why am i still spider man? for what am i saving all these people who i've never even met before, taking hits from overzealous, insane villains so nobody else gets hurt even though they don't even thank me in the end... living despite the pain of living, loving despite the risk of having my heart broken–that i would be the reason of a loved one's heartache and suffering?"

there are hardly any times when questions of severe existentialism are ever answered early by the vast universe; the answers are hidden, muddled by the cosmos that keep expanding, never to be known by any living mortal–at least, not directly. miguel's dilemma is such, for truly, what is his life when put into the perspective of the grander scheme of things? what is the meaning behind the life he lives when he cannot even get a moment of rest until he's in the grave? what does he come home for, only to leave that home all over again and come back who knows when?

as he swings home, making minimal noise and conspicuous movements towards the window of your bedroom with miguel–he stares for a moment into the room. he's greeted to the very familiar sight of you sleeping soundly by your side, hopefully not suffering any internal turmoil that would discomfort you in your slumber. as you lay there, with your eyes shut and mouth slightly parted–gently snoring and mumbling in your sleep–with the moonlight illuminating your gentle figure, fragile frame... miguel has the answer to a his pondering answered in that one scene of his evening–of his life.

he mustered the courage to enter the room, quietly crawling in like a thief in the night. he shut the window closed after entering and dissipated his suit–leaving him in a pair of dark color briefs. he got under the covers, hoping not to wake you from your seemingly peaceful sleep, and once he snuggled up next to you... he found himself holding his breath in, as if anticipating that at any moment, the multiverse would part you from him and keep him as he always was before you came: miserable, lonely, and empty–without meaning.

your sleeping face was turned to his side, your eyelashes and lips looking so ravishing to miguel to pepper with kisses–your nose looking so... biteable. he smiled to himself slightly and gently pushed back a small lock of your hair behind your ear, shifting his face to move closer to you, to gaze into your lovely face and just soak in all of you.

"look at you... oh, the things i'd do for you; i can't even begin... to tell you..." he muttered, having a one-way conversation with your sleeping figure. he brushed the back of his finger against your cheek slowly, savoring the feeling of your warm skin. "i do all these things, all these things nobody thanks me for, to keep you safe–to see you in this very bed, to hold you another night, see you another day and hear your voice speak my name and tell me you love me..." he murmured, moving his face closer to yours–your lips almost touching, his nose poking yours.

he exhaled and smiled gently up at you. "i mean it when i say i'd die for you... i'd kill for you. nobody else matters to me, not anymore, when all i have left is you." he whispered as he leaned his forehead against yours, giving your nose a small kiss, taking your hand in his and gently squeezing it. whether you heard him or not didn't matter, miguel had finally gotten his answer from the universe somehow–and miguel would repeat to you that answer from the universe again and again and again.

you're the only one he has now, the only one who's never left him and has defied what the multiverse has in store for him–you're all that he loved, loves, and will ever love–until the end of time and space itself, you are all that he wants and needs.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck @melovetitties @arachnoia @fictarian @yuridopted0 @ophanimgold @meeom @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @popeheywardssecretgf @smokeywhalee

[captain-hawks]

kita and dark red🤞🏼

shinsuke kita x reader

c: yakuza!kita, arranged marriage

In the months following your whirlwind betrothal to the Inarizaki clan’s kumicho, Shinsuke Kita, (at the behest of your scheming father) you’ve made little to no headway in figuring out much of anything about the calm, stoic man that’s soon to be your husband.

His interactions with you have been formal and brief, at best, and much to your surprise, you were even provided your own private quarters upon your arrival. He’s not so much as set foot past the boundary of the large wooden door that closes off your room, nor has he requested your presence in his bed.

And it’s this relentless air of mystery and disinterest that leaves you shifting awkwardly atop the countertop now, all too aware of the fact that it’s well past midnight and you’re sitting in his kitchen wearing nothing but a faded t-shirt, a spoonful of dry cereal suspended midair between the bowl and your lips.

You accompanied Kita to a formal dinner hours earlier—and were embarrassed to find how frustrated you became as the night went on and nearly every other man in attendance snuck a glance at the sight of you in the dress the oyabun himself had picked out for you. (Well, he’d had it delivered to your quarters by someone else.)

A dress that Kita himself said not a single word about, his gaze hardly bothering to find you for the entirety of the evening.

The white marble is cold against the back of your thighs as Kita approaches you now, still donning his slacks and a white button down shirt, though he’s since removed his tie and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows.

Eyes drifting from the bowl to your face, a small, rare smile that you’re not sure you’ve ever seen makes its way across his lips.

“Do ya often pillage the cabinets while everyone else is sleepin’?” he asks, and you swear you hear a hint of teasing in his tone, his voice slightly raspy in the late hour. 

“Am I not allowed?”

His eyes shine in the illumination of the pale yellow light hanging above the sink.

“Nah, ya certainly are. But one of the boys could bring it to yer room for ya.”

One of his hands comes to rest atop the counter, a respectful distance from your bare thigh, but you’re exceedingly aware of every centimeter of space all the same as warmth rapidly floods your gut.

“Maybe I like sitting up here and stuffing my face,” you counter with a playful shrug, just because you can. 

He tilts his head to the side, his steady gaze briefly flicking over your form before pointedly returning to your face.

“Hm,” is the only response he deigns to offer you, eyes not leaving yours as he reaches into the bowl and takes a piece of the cereal, placing it in his mouth. 

He’s quiet for a moment as he chews, and you make no effort to hide the way you watch his throat bob when he swallows. 

Slowly, he reaches out again, this time toward your face, and your heart slams against your ribcage as his hand—with a touch that’s far gentler than you ever could have imagined—cups the curve of your jaw.

“I like this color,” he comments, pressing his thumb against the dark red coating that you’ve yet to wipe from your mouth.

You blink, throat going dry as your toes curl, bare heels pressed firmly against the cabinet beneath you. 

He drags his thumb all the way across your bottom lip, and you can feel your lipstick smudge against your cheek as he swipes the digit well past the corner of your mouth in one fluid motion.

“It suits ya,” he murmurs softly, eyes drifting back to yours as he briefly runs his teeth over the tip of his thumb, the skin there now stained red as well. “Sleep well.”

You stay seated atop the counter long after the sound of the stairs creaking beneath his footsteps fades to silence.

[edgeray]

One Hell of a Butler Pt. 6

Husband and Wife

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N: Guys, sorry for not posting anything in like 2 weeks. School highkey sucks. Have this to make up for it. Sorry for rushed ending, I'm tired but if I don't finish it as soon as possible, I won't be posting anything for another 2 weeks. Series Masterlist Content Warning: None really, rushed ending (I'm tired af), references to Pt.2, but not that relevant. This is also long af, 4.7k words

This scene is becoming far too familiar than you’d like it to be.

An icy nailed finger trails up your bare spine, the blackened hand grazing against the vast, open back your dress allowed, leaving your shoulder blades and a little under exposed. The other hand is draped around your midsection, pushing you against her front as firmly, the lack of her body heat practically numbing against your skin. Yet, hot air cascades against the shell of your ear, a sultry whisper in your air as her lips near your earlobe.  

“You look beautiful, my dear wife,” Arlecchino sighs out, humming in approval as her red-crossed eyes practically devour your form, the hold around your body slightly tightening it. It invokes more shudders, making you let out the softest of groans. 

“So, so beautiful,” she murmurs against your skin, her wet mouth ghosting against your nape. Her hand traces the dip of your shoulderblades before guiding her fingers to your side, her hand grasping one of your hips. “Red is a fetching color on you. Wear it more often for me, won’t you, my Lady?”  

You’re fully aware she’s only partial to the color because it resembles her pupils. She likes to associate herself with this particular hue. Narcissus himself, wasn’t she? 

One of your hands is placed over the one on your hip, wrenching it away from your person before it could creep lower. You click your tongue in ire. By this point, you’re more than aware of her persistent and irritating suggestions, always pushing the boundary between master and servant. Regardless of how many times you reprimand her, she’s undeterred–a trait you almost admire if it didn’t often hinder you. Still, you can’t deny the way your skin always tingles underneath her fingertips, or the way her amative words stirs something deep within you. With every protest and physical pushback, a prickling feeling at the back of your mind shoots through you, something you can attest to allegorize to the figurative biting of your tongue. 

There’s the common rationality that crossing the line will cause inevitable consequences that neither of you will be capable of facing, and yet you let her teeter the line. Toying with it, as if it’s not there, or a better analogy: that it’s nothing more than one of those games she enjoys playing with you. Is it because of your own lack of will or because you indulge in this far more than you should? You find contempt with the acknowledgement that you favor the way she dallies you. 

You knew that this ploy would excite the demon, give more latitude to her already desirous advances and increase her antics, but it was necessary for what you were trying to achieve. Masking as a wedded piar was the only way of concealing your identity while ensuring that Arlecchino remained by your side at all times but you wished there was a simpler guise. Regrettably, a charity event didn’t allow many guises, not with the scheme you plotted. Arlecchino, would undoubtedly, use every and any courting attempts under the guise of your ‘husband,’ throughout the entirety of the night. You only hope you could curb her behavior enough to not result in the right into becoming a blunder. 

“Arlecchino, are you so oblivious as to not be able to hold tongue?” You ask, your frigid words and sharp tongue coating your internal thoughts with a mask of coldness. 

Her words ring through your ears, sounding just like they had numerous times before. How long will it be until she stops repeating those praises, you wonder; how long will it be until they seem credible? You finally gaze up into the mirror, and there’s no objection to her statement. It’s a stunning, remarkably well-tailored scarlet dress, long and flowy with a high slit running from your thigh. It pairs well with the crimson suit that adorns the demon’s form exquisitely. The two of you do appear as an attractive pair, you admit begrudgingly to yourself. You gaze at the mirror for a moment longer before prying yourself away from the demon’s hold, stepping away from her with your back towards her. There’s the small inkling inside you that she pouts much like a scolded puppy. 

“Why, are you offering to slit it?” She offers, and you forget; that’s precisely something she’d enjoy. Always the cheeky demon that she is. From the mirror, you can see that almost infatuated expression on her face: lips curled into a cutting smirk, eyes narrowed on the image of you in the mirror, and red-crossed pupils glowering. “I’m merely commenting on your appearance, can you fault me when I have such a lovely wife before me?” 

“Don’t make me keep you on a tight leash,” you snap, once again swatting Arlecchino’s hand that tries to creep up onto your waist. “Behave yourself appropriately.”

A chuckle erupts from behind you. “If I behaved myself, then our image of doting husband and wife will shatter, no? Besides, a leash may not be very… dignified, would it? It’d be quite the presentation, indeed.”

It slips from your memory at times: how demons, or Arlecchino particularly, have no shame. 

With a scoff and a shake of your head, you reply. “Is that what you want to appear as? A dog I leash around?”

Again, another noise of amusement comes from the demon, but she replies with neither a confirmation or objection. Kinky bastard. 

“The only thing we need are finishing touches, is that right? Accessories if you will.”

You nod, making your way towards the door of your bedroom. “Your gloves and your contacts. You have them, yes?” 

“Yes, but I was referring to something else.” Before you can question it, there’s a grasp on your wrist andd then you’re spun around to face her. With the slyness of a fox, she slips a ring on your ring finger prior to your awareness, and a sparkling gemstone greets your vision. You nearly sputter at the sudden action, jerking your hand away from her hold as you extend out your hand in front of you to view it. A brilliant ruby, no, red diamond glimmers before you, encased by a sleek, intricate, gold and silver design–irrefutably based off of her usual palette she prefers to don. You collect your composure, masking it with a monotone hum. 

“I don’t recall purchasing this for tonight.” You look at her, scanning her expression: the amused gleam in her black pits and the hardly discreet smile across her lips. 

“I acquired it myself. There should be no issue with it, I presume? I thought it would… assure our disguise.” She raises up her hand, wearing a similar jewerly. 

You note that she uses ‘acquired’ over ‘purchased.’ What means have she gone through to obtain this? You don’t have even an inkling of an idea. You don’t care enough to inquire further on how she obtained a ring containing the rarest type of diamond discovered by humans yet. However, it is difficult to argue that it doesn’t achieve the job of solidifying the illusion the two of you aare trying to uphold. 

“We have everything, we need, is that correct?” 

“That’s correct, my Lady.”

“Then let’s go. Come along, Arlecchino, no point in dallying is there, my dear ‘husband?’” 

Unbeknownst to you, your words lit a spark within your butler, an inferno that will remain undying until the next morning. Thrill hums underneath her blackened skin, and the warmth and levity of adoration grips her dead, devoid, demonic heart. 

—

Upon arrival at the venue of the charity event, a grand mansion, it bares much resemblance to the ball that you and Arlecchino went to for information gathering–your first failure, regrettably, on no one’s fault but yours. You had banked on your source of information to be accurate, and what a fool you made of yourself then. Though this time, you had a different objective in mind, this one more promising for success. 

Hosted by Magnate Tartuffe, a philanthropist and so-called ‘Savior of the Poor,’ you have no doubt the charity event is just a convention for his more… shift business partners. The perfect den to gather evidence of this scum’s lies, and a good place to see who else is involved with his web of deceit. You pose as one of the guests invited to such an event…how lucky for you that you just come across her invitation first instead of her. 

Rich people do love their ballrooms, don’t they? 

You observe the dancefloor and the pleasant couples. Unsurprisingly, some of who you recognize: politicians, entrepreneurs, philanthropists; this place reeks of two-faced snakes. Arlecchino’s prickling gaze bores into you, and you have no doubt that your ‘husband’ wants nothing more than to ‘blend in’ among the dancing pairs with you. Sure enough, after a few minutes of wandering through the swarms of people, there is a tug on your dress and you redirect your attention from the various sea of invitees to your butler. 

“We look quite conspicuous wandering about, don’t we? Why don’t we indulge ourselves for a little bit, my love?” Arlecchino says to you from behind, her gloved hand finding yours, intertwining your fingers. She pivots you to face her again, a mischievous glint in her obsidian abysses. Through her gloves, her coldness bleeds through the silk fabric. Her fingers run over your ring with careful deliberation. 

Love. It’s a word that you think seldom comes from a demon’s lips. And yet, you find yourself entertaining the notion of her repeating that single syllable in that distinct lilt. Foolish, you chide yourself, but perhaps there is some truth to her previous statement. Still, now is not the time for dawdling, you reason. 

“Now? You know better that this event gives little leeway to do as we please.” You refute, but you’re swept in her embrace, drew against her with a precise disregard of your words as she often does. She peers down on you, that damnable, infuriating smirk across her features as she practically undresses you with her gluttonous glare alone. You repress the reflex to shudder. 

“Is that so? Not even one dance, darling?”

“No.” You attempt to wring your hand from hers, but then her fingers fixedly but gently wrap around your wrist. She guides your hand to her chest as if she’s safeguarding it from you. 

Through gritted teeth, you enouciate her name, like scolding a disobedient pet. “Arlecchino.”

“What wife doesn’t have time to dance with her husband?” Arlecchino replies back, her voice raising in volume, a faux disbelief present in her voice, her expression imitating likewise as well–widened eyes, raised eyebrows, and a pity-garnering frown. It’s far from the first time she’s done this, act as if she had any human emotions beyond lust, but there’s yet been a time you fell for it, even when she does look like a kicked puppy.  

“This wife.” 

Your butler leans down until her lips brushes against your ear, a lazy, alluring drawl graces your ears. Her other hand seizes your chin, turning it away from her direction and steering it towards the few bystanders watching the two of you’s interaction. You could feckly hear their snobbish remarks, the way their eyes usher away from yours and they lean towards the other, a hand covering their mouths. “Careful. We have an audience. We wouldn’t want to draw attention to us, would we?” 

Her and her diabolical tricks. 

“Fine,” you submit begrugingly, seething anger barely contained in your voice. An amused and smug titter spews from the demon, and it takes a considerable amount of restraint to not deck her across her face; she’d relish in it anyways. 

“Do you mind if I take the lead, my love?” She asks you in a sickeningly, sweet tone like a doting partner would. Your stomach churns, but you can’t discern if it’s in an discomforting way or not, but you could physically feel some of your ire dissipate, humbly tamed by a simple pet name. You detest the wonder if your will was always this frail. What was it this time that broke through your stubborn front of vexation? You’ve been kidnapped, beatened, tortured before, but this was where you fell? Unfathomable. My love, she repeats again, and it rings through your ears, almost deafening every other sound that surrounds you, rendering you powerless. 

Arlecchino places your free hand on top of her shoulder while hers position itself on your side. The hand that is still clasped with yours extends outwards, assuming the waltz position. Abruptly, you’re acutely aware of how clammy your hands are underneath your gloves and you utterly despise the quickening of your heartbeat that drums throughout your entire body; still, you couldn’t muster the courage to look away from the reassuring smile–free of its previous pomposity and ridicule–she sends you. For the briefest period of time, you think that instead of a demon, in place of it is an angel from how ethereal she appears. But you quickly shake your head ridding of that thought as soon as it came. 

Stupid racing of your heart, making you see things that aren’t there. 

She moves slow at first, as if to examine where your experience lies, gradually increasing her pace with each minute. It’s awkward at first, but once she finds a suitable speed, the two of you smoothly glide over the floor. You match her every step with poise and fluidity, and when it’s clear you’ve accustomed to her rhythm, she raises her left arm while dropping your right, twirling you around. In this moment, everything else disappears, the only thing that is of relevance to you is her, your bodies in sync as your eyes lock. With each sway, you wonder if your heartrates are also synchronized–in this breath of time, does her heart races for you like yours does? The unwavering gaze of hers resides on you, and you can’t do no more but reciprocate her attention. You dubiously think that in her eyes, there’s a fondness to them, and oh, how it melts you. How it eases your soul and lightens your steps. How you carefully regard every feature, admiring the lack of blemishes over her skin and the softness of her facial traits; but maybe those observations were made from your own bias.

There’s a silence between the two of you that you find solace in–almost anyone would call it intimate. Outside of you and Arlecchino, the world would think of the two of you as husband and wife truly, and it’s like you’re the only one that knows the truth. You bite your lip harshly, dragging back your imaginative consciousness back to reality. When trying to enact revenge, foolishness and naivety have no place here; your goal is the only thing that dictates your life now. 

That’s right. You have no time or need to fool around with a demon, no matter how charming she is. 

“I wasn’t aware you knew how to dance.” You make small talk, if only to break the growing intimacy between servant and master, attempting to dismiss the way your nerves singe from the warmth she exudes and how loud that beating organ in your chest thumps. 

“Yes, serving a multitude of masters over hundreds of years has allowed me to cultivate an innumerable amount of skills and experience–dancing included. of course,” Arlecchino replies as she spins you, following a dip immediately afterward. As you’re lowered until a feet or two above the floor with only her arms supporting your weight, she leans her head further down, inches away from your face, her breath skimming against your nose. The sudden action has you breathless, heaving for the air she effortlessly stole from your lungs. Her eyes lock with yours for a short while, her expression slack as if she’s in awe, before her lips curl into a smile. 

“You should be underneath me more often,” she has the audacity to comment in that husky, amorous voice, both a stinging annoyance and blossoming fluster bubble inside you. Before you can berate her, ‘your husband’ raises you until both of your feet are flat on the ground and she resumes the standard waltz stance, the two of you sashaying across the floor. 

Nonchalantly, she resumes her answer previously, as if to overlook her brash remark; you know it’s only to further fluster and tease you, that fucking demon. “Waltz is, admittedly, one of my favorite types of dancing. The intimacy it creates between the partners is thrilling. I’ve had much experience with it.” 

And suddenly that placid campfire stoking in your chest ignites into an inferno, like being possessed by something sinister; the previous levity that coats your person is stripped away, replaced with a heavy and overbearing covering that makes you too aware of her speech and her expression, keen in deciphering her thoughts behind that front. She’s… reminiscing? There should be no logical reason it acutely agitates you, but that faraway look–it infuriates you. It’s a sensation that was similar to what brought on about that abrupt and inexplicable fit of irrationality during the ball, when you marked Arlecchino’s neck. You’ve opted to not ruminate over that occurrence after the event but as you feel the same beast’s claws grip your form, it’s with a grim realization that you discover unsightly jealousy. 

It spews out before you can stop it. “And how many people have you danced with like this?” 

Arlecchino’s smile freezes in time, her eyes flicking over your slight scowl, brows lifting bemusedly. Then, her lips curl further upwards marginally. “Quite a few has come before you, my Lady.”  

Is she purposely trying to aggravate you? 

Deciding to avoid another incident like at the ball, you bite your tongue in an attempt to repress anymore thoughtless utterances; you refuse to let her win in this little game she’s trying to play. Fanning the flames inside you won’t mean that you’ll combust. You bitterly question what you thought would come from a demon. Expectedly, nothing genuine. Becoming lost in your thoughts, your eyes wander away from her face, absentmindedly observing the gazes of other observers, watching the two of you sway. You’re broken out of your trance when your butler’s voice cuts through your thoughts. 

“Something more interesting than ‘your husband?’” 

You recover from the shock quickly, glancing back at her. “And if there was?” 

“Then I would be saddened. Perhaps I haven’t captured your attention enough?” 

You choose not to respond, unsure of what to say and what it would lead to. The song in the background comes to a close, and she ends the dance with one more dip. Once the song ends, you immediately wrench out your hands from her grasp. 

“Satisfied yet? You got your dance,” you sigh, inwardly disgusted with how uncomfortable your gloves feel now with all of the sweat built up. Settling your palm onyour chest, you can feel the faint thumping underneath, still pumping rapidly. Through deep breaths, you try to calm it, turning away from Arlecchino.

“Very. You were an excellent partner,” your ‘husband’ says from behind.

Some part of you asks how many times she’s said that before. 

You huff. “Great, now can we do what we came here for?” 

“As you wish, my lovely wife.” 

Stupid demon husband. 

—

Sneaking around the venue has yet garner much success. Currently, you’re searching for the location of Tartuffe’s meeting with his other associates, but no luck. His goons are watching over the hallways; a clear signifier that he doesn’t want others to be probing about where they shouldn’t be. 

“Arlecchino,” you whisper once you’ve found yourself in a secluded hallway, making sure that no one is around. The demon appears. 

“Have you found them yet?”

“No, I’ve yet to find them. Even with my hearing, it appears that they’re not here.” 

“How good is your hearing?” 

“They’re quite sensitive, I can hear so much as a whisper through walls.”

“How thick can those walls be?”

“It’s dependent on the material. Though these types of walls should not prove to be difficult for me.” 

“Hm… it’s less likely that they would move to another place altogether, there’d be no reason to all come here if that was the case. So there’s a high chance they’re still here… Arlecchino, on the blueprints was there any stairwells?” 

The demon closes her eyes momentarily, attempting to recall. “Yes, it would be on the opposite side of the building. Though, when I was exploring that section, there was no apparent stairwell.” 

“That may be where they are. We should–”

Before you can continue, you hear a thudding reverberate through the hallway, the sound growing louder with each second passing by. If you’re spotted here, it’s likely you’ll be expelled out of the event for trespassing and looking around. Your heart pounds rapidly as you try to conceive the notion of another failure towards your goal; no, you cannot let it end here. The footsteps approach closer. Your hands scramble for the doorknob behind you, twisting it to see if it’ll allow you inside and serve as a covert. However, it doesn’t budge, no matter how many times you try. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you curse underneath your breath when you realize the door is expectedly locked. Is there any way you for the two of you not to get caught. Arlecchino may be a demon, she has teleportation powers, but those powers mean nothing to you when she can’t transport you. You could order her to disappear and allow yourself to be thrown out; she’ll probably be able to find out how to let you back in, but again, that carries risk and you may not have enough time for that, especially when the distance makes coordination difficult for that type of plan and you don’t know how long that meeting will last if it’s started half an hour ago, wait, the footsteps are just about there, rounding the corner, think hard, faster, think, think, thinking fucking dumbass–

A firm, chilling hand places itself on your shoulder, whipping you around before pressing you harshly against the wooden door, making you groan from the immediate impact. Arlecchino’s body towers over you, her pupils gleaming so radiantly that they’re visible through the contact lenses that she’s wearing; her expression is still and emotionless, only adding to the chilling emanation from her. One of her arms is placed beside your hand, and she leans forward against the door. Her other hand hooks underneath your chin, and tilt your face up, viewing her face. The only information that your mind could process at this instance is just how little distance there is between the two of you, and that is enough to send your pulse soaring. The panic of your impending exposure futiley against the thoughts that suddenly revolve around your butler, your husband, who draw nearer. You should push her away and demand what she’s doing, but her speed surpasses that of human capabilities, far too swift for you to even occupy that consideration, and you give up the fruitless struggle in the next moment. 

“Forgive me, my Lady,” she whispers huskily, just a hairsbreadth away from your own and she descends upon you. 

Arlecchino’s cold lips find yours, prying away your oxygen effortlessly with each claim of your mouth. Reality melts away at her touch–she overwhelms all of your senses, you’re mindless except for the flavor and texture of her–as she presses against you even more. She tastes chilling and metallic, like steel; yet soft and welcoming as a pillow; you can’t imagine anything more from your demon, and it certainly doesn’t prevent you from leaning further. She’s nothing and exactly like how you would think she’d be like, and it absolutely thrills you. Heart palpitating, every nerve hums underneath each inch of skin, and oh, how absurdly hot you feel despite her cold lips. Closing your eyes, your hands raise up to her face, cupping both sides and tugging her impossibly closer. A soft grunt escapes from her and her fingers below your chin leave in favor of lagging down below, over your dress before it finds the thigh-high slit and slides underneath. 

“Arlecchino,” you gasp out as her gloved fingers trail up your bare thigh, and she quickly swallows the whisper of her name. Continuing up, they travel innerwards, and your body involuntarily bucks in her direction. You’re filled with only the incessant need for her, more of her touch, more of her taste, more of her everything; you bite her lip, requesting–no, demanding–for entrance, and like the obedient servant she is, she allows entry. Just as she has claimed your lips, you decide replicate it back, exploring every crevice of her mouth with your tongue. You’re further fueled by the throaty moan she emanates, the pit of your stomach fluttering. 

“Say my name again,” she begs out in the sweetest, most yearning voice that’s ever graced your ears, and with that kind of plea, who are you to deny her? 

“Arlecchino,” you whisper out, and then again, and again, like a chant. You pull the slightest bit away just to catch your breath, before leaning back in, but that is when Arlecchino leans away, backing away fully from your lips to your dismay. Her touch on your leg leaves.The sudden break snaps you out of your lust-filled daze, and you look at her like a betrayed lover. Noticing that her eyes are directed somewhere else, you follow them. 

Two men stand by the side of you, evidently discomfortable if the way they’re refusing to make eye contact signifies anything. You rack your head around for a second, before remembering they’re among the security personnel. Still recovering from the intimate engagement you just had with your butler, you heave for breath, attempting to say something to them, but Arlecchino does so first. 

“Is there something you’d like to say to me and my wife about?” Your ‘husband’ gruffs, frigid fury coating her words. 

One of the men cleared his throat before replying awkwardly with, “Um, we’re sorry to have… interrupted you, but guests are not supposed to be in these parts.” 

Arlecchino lets out a faux scoff, and her hand reache for mine, clasping it tight. “Fine. Then let us be on our way back,” she states, turning away from them and wordlessly walking away, leading you along with her. Once the two of you are out of the two men’s sight, you stop her in her tracks. 

“Was that necessary?” You inquire, a bit of indignation in your tone. Because how could she just do that without your permission, without your order? The two of you have just breached a line you promised yourself you wouldn’t cross, and here you were, like a fucking liar. This shouldn’t have happened. 

“We needed a way that would make us not look conspicuous, didn’t we? I thought if we… played up to our roles, they would think that we were just… having a rendezvous.” 

You sigh. It worked as Arlecchino has intended at least. Yet, you can’t help but question if that was all to why she did it. 

Your lips still tingle, her taste still lingers. 

“Fine, I won’t reprimand you for that. But know if you do something like that again, there will be consequences,” you warn her harshly. “Now, let’s go, we still have to proceed with our plan.”

— 

That night was successful, thankfully. You had managed to get all the evidence you needed, and formulate a list of who exactly is working with that damn philanthropist. After you arrived home, you immediately sent Arlecchino out, changed, and retired to bed. But as you lay underneath the covers, you couldn’t help but wish that it was her arms wrapped around you instead of these blankets. And yet you never call for her. It is the same reason why you never mentioned about the kiss to her again. 

Ah, you want to taste her again. Drink her in once more, discover more sounds of her.

Your fingers fiddle with the ring that Arlecchino slipped onto your finger earlier that night. It fits your finger just right. 

Husband and wife? What a funny thought. 

That night, when your eyelids are finally too heavy for you to lift, you dream of eyes with crosses as pupils and blackened hands, chilly to the touch.  

A/N: First canonical kiss. Whoooooo. Only took these bitches 12.4k words for them to kiss. Anyways, I'm going to pass the fuck out now.

[hanakoofthejungle]

HuskerDust WIP based on the fanfiction Wicked Old Soul , chapter 24 to be exact. This is a great Overlord Husk AU fanfiction, I highly recommend.

The writer described the most beautiful clothes there so I had to draw something. My interpretation deviates somewhat from the clothes in the chapter since not all would look good when executed on paper and because I am lazy. For example, I skipped the embroidery on Angel dress, Husk's top hat and Husk's pinstripe suit. I figured the color scheme of red, gold and black doesn't look good on a pinstripe with red shirt 😢. I will try to implement that in the tie instead

Still my dumb ass did that fancy hair for Angel and combined two type of fabrics in the dress. That is going to be a pain in the ass to color.

Damn I almost forgot about Husk's wings again

[amourlyns]

Omg I am so sorry about my first request 🤦‍♀️(I over excited about seeing another blogger writing for windbreaker and over read your rules). Can you please request Joker, Wooin, Vinny, and Owen moving into  together into their first apartment

⠀ ━━ 🌷 💕

✦ 𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬 ⨟⠀ None

✦ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 ⨟⠀Wooin + Owen Knight+ Vinny Hong + Joker + gn!reader


✦ 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘 ⨟⠀This is short!! I apologize for that, I’ve just been a bit burnt out from windbreaker request 😭 ➜   masterlist 

✦ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ⨟⠀ None

⠀ | WHEN YOU AND JOKER GET YOUR FIRST apartment together it’s a tender moment for him. It’s a bit bitter sweet too, he knows where the money came from.

And you did too of course, but besides that… everything was perfect. J let’s you decorate everything. He loves the way your eyes shine in excitement when you guys talk about the life you guys will love together.

The whole thing is very intimate for the two of you.

⠀ | WHEN YOU AND OWEN GET YOUR FIRST apartment together its absolutely perfect. You guys are both on the same wavelength for everything and it goes exactly like planned.

The decor matches the both of you and the vibe.. the color scheme is on point… everything just flows between you two.

⠀ | WHEN YOU AND WOOIN GET YOUR FIRST apartment together, it’s a mess! The whole thing was really uncoordinated but you guys still made it.

The first few weeks of the move involves a lot of back and forth the two of you but you eventually get it together and start decorating.

You guys have a hard time find balance between it though. It can’t be a crazy man cave y’know?

⠀ | WHEN YOU AND VINNY GET YOUR FIRST apartment together it’s actually really organized. Which is odd, you never really envisioned it like this but V assured that everything was okay

You never did figure out how he had the funding for an apartment, and you never figured out how guided him through all of it.

You’re way too excited to dive into these details though. And he seemed happy too, also emotional… but he covered it up shortly after. A façade, almost.

[cosmerelists]

Top 12 Sanderson RAFOs that Haunt Me

[SPOILERS! For Stormlight and Mistborn (both eras) especially]

"RAFO" = "Read and Find Out," AKA, a question that Sanderson says may be answered in a future book. Here, then, are Sanderson's "Read and Find Out" answers that most haunt me...insofar as I'm desperate to know how the answers will play out in the future!

(I'll link to @onlycosmere or the Coppermind for the sources!)

#12: Where is Design in Lost Metal?

Whenever Hoid appears in a book chronologically later than Stormlight 4, we all freak out if Design is somehow not there. There was (seemingly) no Design in Tress and no Design in Lost Metal. Someone asked about the Lost Metal and got RAFO'd (here). Sanderson's response of "oooh, excellent question" makes me especially curious. Like, does something happen to Design? Or is Design some sort of object that we don't realize is Design? So curious!

#11: Is Spook still alive?

Someone asked if Spook is still alive, and Sanderson RAFO'd it (here). I'll admit; I'm mostly curious about this because I'm curious about Kelsier and how he drew Spook into his terrible (?) schemes. And it's always interesting when those characters from early books come back. I wouldn't mind seeing Spook around again!

#10: Taravangian's Perfect Day

Someone asked if anything else of note happened on Taravangian's Perfect Day, and Sanderson said yes (!) and then RAFO'd the details (here). I can't even begin to guess what this might refer to, but it feels pretty important. I wonder what it means!

#9: Valor Will Be Mentioned in Stormlight 5

Well, name-dropped anyway (here). Valor is one of the few remaining shards we don't know much about, so I'm curious as to what we'll learn about her in Stormlight 5 and in what context she'll be name-dropped. I'm not as curious as I should be, I guess, because I frankly can't keep all of the shards straight. But it'll still be cool!

#8: Renarin's Detective Skills

Somebody asked if Renarin figured out on his own that Adolin killed Sadeas, and Sanderson gave it a "partial RAFO" (here). I really hope we find out more about this, maybe when Renarin is the flashback character. I want to know how he knew, and what he did with that knowledge. More Renarin overall, tbh!

#7: Hoid Dated a Dragon

Hoid dated a dragon once; it's canon (here). But which one? That we're still waiting to see! I'll admit; I'm curious.

#6 Were Glys and Tumi Dead-Eyes?

Someone asked if Glys & Tumi were dead-eyes before Sja-anat got to them (here). Sanderson RAFO'd it and said it was a good question (!!). That doesn't mean the theory is true, of course, but it means it COULD be true! And if dead-eyes can be restored by Sja-anat, then........is there hope for Maya???

#5: Missing Yellow From Pinter Ink

Someone asked Sanderson about the hion colors, and how blue and magenta are printer colors, and how yellow is missing. Sanderson indicated that this was exactly as he had planned and RAFO'd the missing yellow "ink" (here). Later, Sanderson explained a bit more that if there were a third Hion line, it would be yellow, and hinted that there was a reason it was missing (here). Sanderson has elsewhere indicated that "yin yang" type investiture is a Cosmere-wide phenomenon...which means...what? That there should be another magic outside of the dichotomy? That it's missing? Just from the hions or from all magic systems? Does this have something to do with aethers as the non-Adonalsium magic type?

I'm not smart enough with Cosmere science to know, but I AM very curious!

#4: If Kelsier and Moash Meet

When asked what would happen if Kelsier and Moash meet, Sanderson RAFO'd it (here). Now, that doesn't necessarily mean that they will meet, of course...but it means they COULD. And now I want it--I want it so much! #Let-Moash-join-the-Ghostbloods-as-Kelsier's-righthand-man-2024

#3: Ask Me About July 18

I think much of the fandom is aware of this RAFO, where Sanderson tweeted that we should all remind him to talk more about the important scene that he wrote for Stormlight 5 on July 18 (here). Like everyone, I am desperate to know what scene he is talking about. The Odium duel? Renarin and Rlain getting together?? Szeth and Kaladin petting a baby sheep while they talk about their feelings??? It could be anything!

#2: Rat skulls glow on Threnody?!

People who pay attention to my every comment on this blog may know that Threnody is my favorite Cosmere planet, and so I was definitely interested to see this RAFO, where Sanderson said that...rat skulls glow on Threnody for a reason?? (here) Not only did he say that they glow for a good reason, but he also "laugh[ed] gleefully" apparently. I am so curious...and so alarmed.

#1: Hoid Drinking Perfume Will Be Relevant

But the "RAFO" that most haunts me is from way back in 2016 (here), when someone asked why Hoid was drinking perfume in Bands of Mourning...and Sanderson RAFO'd it, saying that he planned to delve into it one day. D-Delve into WHAT exactly? How could it possibly be Cosmere-relevant that Hoid was drinking perfume? Is it about where he got it? Is there a perfume-drinking-based magic system??

WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN

[corruptedhyena]

uhh hello neighbors, am i doing this right??

at the old age of 22 i've become obsessed with the Hello Neighbor: Welcome to Raven Brooks show and i need help lol

soooo i drew them as furries!! it's not quite all of them, but i feel like once s2 comes out, i'll be able to get a better grip on their personalities in order to decide their species. i've never been into HN as a franchise beyond the initial alphas, so i'm missing quite a bit of context into these kiddos, but i can't wait to see what they do with the show!

general breakdown:

characters were colored based off of their hair and general palette, a few colors were tweaked to better fit my style and preferences (:

Nicky had to be a Pointer dog of some sort, it's just such a perfect narrative fit imo. the hunting dog pointing at the Wrong, only to be snatched up by it in the end

Trinity felt fitting as some type of bob-tailed cat, not sure why exactly bob-tail but it just seemed cute. the cat aspect, though, felt like a nice flip of Nicky being a canine, as well as the knowledge that Trinity has gotten into danger/trouble before coming to Raven Brooks due to her curiosity/snooping, which felt fitting to "curiosity killed the cat"

Maritza and Enzo made sense to be the same species, though with their own little quirks. i felt a fox fit for both athleticism and smarts with a shared trickery in the way the two bicker and spat. Maritza's fur is a bit more fluid and laid-back, whereas Enzo's is a bit more stiff.

Mr. Peterson, finally, had to be a lion. i don't know everything about HN lore but i know he's associated a lot with the amusement park and clowns, hence the big cat of the big top felt right! not to mention it allows him to have a more intimidating figure that plays into the idea of the ringleader of some big scheme (though leaves room for a sad, bullied cat that the one teaser presented)

so! i still don't really know how to exist on tumblr but lmk what yall think for these guys or the other trio! not sure if anyone will see this but hoping for the best ^^

[captainfantasticalright]

“The Ineffable Wheel of Misfortune”.

Some time ago, I wrote a small meta about this. I truly never go much into that terrain here, but I did write a study on the Goddess Fortuna and thought it most appropriate to share some of the facts about her wheel of Fortune here.

I will not go into much detail about who exactly Fortuna was. Her depictions vary from culture to culture and from age to age (Tyche being the name in Greek, which came before the Roman Fortuna, but many debates have been had about these origins and even comparing the two). But if there is something that remains; one essential aspect: her wheel.

One very important quote from the Prime extra videos revealing some easter eggs:

"There isn't a single prop or a single bit of costume that hasn't been thought through". And that begs the question, why show this prop so openly in the easter eggs section, but not in the show itself?

As Dylan Thomas wisely said: to begin at the beginning- although just to emphasize something:

Fortuna’s wheel is commonly known as the wheel of Fortune- yet what we have here is a wheel of misfortune. But there are two contradicting factors here, namely “misfortune” and “ineffable” fitting in the same description.

Now fate and ineffability could shake hands sometimes, depending on the belief of the doer. But ineffable and misfortune throws us unto different territory.

Now before focusing on the words of the wheel, let’s take a look at the picture keeping the wheel together.

Not only is the bench uniting the two figures (obviously you can see who they are), but the color scheme derives from here too. Cloud and flame, combine into each panel with the flaming sword and the fluffy, goat opposite. Horns and halo are on clear display, but this wheel has no pointer to indicate which fate is chosen. An outside force spins the wheel (Fortuna herself), but where does it land? The only pointer- indicator- is the flaming sword. It comes out of the circle, it is the guidance. It is quite literally cutting through the fabric of Fortune because even though Fortuna spins the fate, the sword guards against any circumstance.

Is this a prediction of Aziraphale taking the center place in guiding and protecting against all odds? Most definitely.

Now, you’ve probably seen the Zodiac signs on the wheel. Those are there because:

Although this states that the wheel of fortune moves from east to west (counterclockwise), let’s keep in mind that this wheel defies fortune and is actually ineffable misfortune.

For that reason, one takes the liberty to assume that this wheel spins in a clockwise direction (west to east).

One reason I am reading this "clockwise" is because I want to correlate it to Crowley's "it's always too late" and to "metaphorically started ticking", as if the options on the wheel follow time strictly in a way. But the wheel has a mind of it’s own:

A wheel can rotate indefinitely. So even if there is a stop at a certain spot, it most definitely will change again. It is in this case, an eternal repetition of ups and downs.

One can fall from the wheel and rise again. Interestingly when reading what’s on the wheel, one starts with the upper left hand side- the best moment at the moment. Coincidentally, ineffably, Aziraphale’s flaming sword is pointing exactly to that point - “blessing for you”.

Spin the wheel and you’ll land on the next part- good news.

Notice how you’ll go through some seemingly good events until you reach those that can be read as their opposites. Even putting it like that, a blessing for you can come back again and not be a blessing at all.

On the image above, the qualities are also opposite their negatives. For example peace-war, patience-impatience, and so on.

On the ineffable wheel of misfortune you could choose to read it as color opposites. So take the yellow "pleasure ahead" and match it with the opposite yellow "going on a journey" and it still makes sense, it could be the good and the bad- or it could be nothing at all.

There are many wheels of fortune out there, eternally rotating by the hands of a force outside our control.

Hopefully you’ll have realized by now that even though the wheel belongs to Fortuna in mythology and literature and art and everywhere else, this wheel belongs to God.

Because God plays an ineffable game of their own devising- much like Fortuna does with the fate of mankind.

Yet, there is room to escape the wheel. To defy ineffability, to build another wheel turned by your own hands and to finally say “it’s not too late”.

[tulipsstudyblr]

Painting Supplies for the studio <3

As I am in an open studio type painting class this semester, it presents itself with its own challenges. Oil paint in itself is a challenge because of its long dry time and the patience that is required to work with it. I have worked with acrylic paint for the majority of my time in the arts, but I do have a new found appreciation for oils. The slow dry time does help with blending when I'm figuring out colors and color schemes, but can still be a challenge when you're someone like me who makes plenty of mistakes while painting haha.

I am the stereotype of a messy artist; it's something I cannot help, but have learned to embrace. Hence, there is a need for the paper towels, since unlike acrylics, oil paint won't come off with water. The towels have to be replaced often - I love to paint with lots of paint on the brush, it makes it a lot more fun to move the brush around the surface.

[averys-nightmare-zone]

since landing is closing down soon, i decided to take a quick break from SUPERSTRUCTURE (although i will be back don't you worry two fans) and made some fashion moodboards for the 14 fears from the magnus archives to accompany this post there will be some notes and insight on each collage under the cut.

the buried: the buried was really underutilized in the podcast imo. some of my favorite episodes revolved around the buried like lost john's cave and we all ignore the pit. i really hope this did it justice since jonny sims did not.

the corruption: oh my god this one was so hard to make. my google search history is full of terms like "bug infested dress", "moldy clothing" and "yucky fashion" the corruption girlies really seemed to like my last post so i felt obligated to get it right. i think i did okay.

the dark: making a black on black collage look decent is really hard 😭 I was originally going to go victorian for this one but ended up doing nu goth instead since I thought victorian fit a lot better with the end.

the desolation: this is one of my favorites. there's somthing so satisfying about combining ashy greys and black with orange it just tickles my brain. other than that, i don't really have any notes

the end: as mentioned earlier, i went with victorian mourning wear for the end. i mean queen victoria herself was in mourning and only wore black for forty years. that era is so synonymous with death it only felt fair to work its customs and fashion into my end board.

the eye: eye avatars are legally required to wear academic fashion. it just comes with the job description. i don't make the rules. have fun being jonathan sims

the flesh: this one really took me down a rabbit hole. first:, i could only find those anti-vegan shirts that your unemployed uncle wears to the family barbecue and then i came across this fashion designer and spent like an hour on her shop trying to figure out how she got her clothes to look like that. after that it took me another two hours to find all of the accessories. pinterest has been both my best friend and worst enemy over the course of this project.

the hunt: i am so sorry the supernatural gas leakage returned to my home when i made this and I age regressed into being 15 again. when i was making this i pictured it more as the trevor and julia flavor of the hunt instead of say, daisy. god breast america.

the lonely: this one was pretty easy to make once i got a handle on the color scheme. the aesthetic of the lonely has always striken me as a romanticization of the melancholy. think wanderer above the sea of fog. So i gave this one all the things i would romantasize about my life at my loneliest, which is why there's a teacup and a heart locket. the book was also a part of that, but it also doubles as a recreation of a leitner by theponderingalpaca on reddit.

the slaughter: yeah yeah i know the slaughter is supposed to be about war as well as murder, but forgive me for not making a fashion collage about military uniforms. that's really boring. i had just watched woodstock '99 before i made this though and decided to go more for that angry punk/metalhead fashion that korn was wearing in that concert. them and limp biskit are the closest we'll ever get to irl grifters bone.

the spiral: i made this moodboard twice. i know its crazy that the fear meant to represent insanity is hard to pin down, but i think i did it better the second time around. the first one read too much as regular kidcore/decora for my taste.

the stranger: i had to do this one last. i could not for the life of me figure out how to make a circus/uncanny fashion board without just doing clown fashion. i'm still not entirely sure how i feel about how it turned out, but at least the masks are cool.

the vast: vast avatars rise up!! this is a mike crew fan blog and i only wanted to base the fashion around him. he's in the top three list of guys i'm autistic about with elliott stardew valley and daniel powell from archive 81.

the web: not much to say here except if you are a web avatar you have to wear a cunty dress. it is simply non negotiable

thank you to @artmadval for giving me the idea to do this with your amazing fashion archives art, along with everyone else who went through all my yapping to get here. love yall!

[eldritch-spouse]

Wife innocently asking Kalymir about all of his scars and touching them and fawning over him, seemingly oblivious to how hot n' bothered he's getting.

" YOU'RE STARING AGAIN, RUNT. "

Ah, he caught you. How can he blame you? Kalymir is quite something, physically speaking. It's hard not to notice him, not to stare at him. In such a vivid garnet coloration, it's hard not to focus on the gashes of blush rose that cross his figure, standing out like sore thumbs.

Kalymir doesn't hide them, in fact, he practically goes out of his way to display them, like they're the most beautiful part of his body. He seems to think other people's scars, whether from battle or simple "blemishes" of nature, are also attractive- It was very odd to see him constantly trace a slash across your arm from a soft training session.

Nevertheless, the King is kind of primal sometimes. In the sense that prolonged gazing agitates him severely. It's hard to tell if he enjoys it or not, but you know it definitely reads as a challenge, if the growl under his words is any indication.

" So I am. " You blink.

" IT'S GETTING ON MY FUCKING NERVES, SPEAK ALREADY. " He fumes.

It's clear you caught him in the middle of some sort of scheme, he only ever stands in front of his main (massive) fireplace with his arms behind his back when he's mulling over something. Kaly's already pissed from being interrupted, better not to test him further. But then again, you did come here to make sure he isn't spacing out in his own mind, in a positive feedback loop of fury...

" How did you get that one? " Walking to stand beside your demonlord, you point to his chest, specifically the large patch that crosses it diagonally.

Kalymir snorts, turning. " OH, SO YOU JUST CAME TO MAKE GOO-GOO EYES AT ME? "

You roll your eyes, but a lazy smile still graces your face. " I asked you a question. "

" I HEARD, DIPSHIT. "

Apparently, you've successfully brought him out of his thoughtful stupor, because the Icon grins wide, teeth ever flared, and squats in front of you.

" THIS ONE HERE? " He barks, and you nod silently. " IT'S MY FAVORITE. " And his biggest. You wouldn't be surprised if it was his favorite precisely for that reason. " I GOT IT THE DAY I BECAME KING OF WRATH. "

Eyebrows rise, you gawk openly, rising loud cackles out of him. " No shit-? "

" YEAH BITCH. " He leers, fetching one of your hands and putting it up against the gnarled flesh, just beneath the bone growths on his upper chest. You blush a little, though allow yourself to map it out. " FEEL IT. "

Kalymir flexes. Although you're entirely unaware of it, his tail wags increasingly faster behind him. " I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE IN THAT ARENA, YET I WALKED OUT AS THE BEST WRATH COULD OFFER! "

When he puts it like that, it really is a scar worth showing off. You'd wear it with pride too. It actually sits very well upon him.

"AND THIS- "

Your hand is forced to grope at the scarred flesh harder, every inch of tense muscle felt beneath his hot skin.

" IS MY TROPHY. YOU HEAR ME, PIPSQUEAK? "

" Y-Yeah. " Is his breathing faster? You suppose you'd get excited talking about such a cool conquest too. " That's so brutal! I bet it hurt like a motherfucker too, you're amazing. "

Kalymir beams, puffing out further before you, even going as far as to raise his arms in a perfect display pose so you can see the way the healed tissue stretches to accommodate movement. Your gleeful giggle has him beaming back, happy to show off.

" DAMN FUCKING RIGHT I AM. " He huffs, greedily allowing you to explore the length of said scar, relishing your little hands on him, your words of complete awe.

Kalymir licks at his teeth and groans, wondering how long it'll take before you stop babbling and notice the twitching tent in his loincloth.

[villainsposting]

On Tarn and His Mask

I think it's interesting that Tarn, despite being the leader of the DJD, sticks out in how comparatively ordinary he is in appearance. All the other members have in-built physical quirks that set them apart from your usual Cybertronian, be it a massive blender in their midsection, empty eye sockets, a detachable face or a smelting pot alt-mode. Tarn opted out of any such features even though he was fully re-engineered from his post-Empurata frame at some point. All Tarn really has going for him is the (cool) mask, but beneath that, he is just your regular Cybertronian.

Furthermore, Tarn holds much more fervor for the Decepticon cause than his team members, and he even claims to not enjoy the torture they enact as much as the others do, choosing to look away from it at opportune moments. He even claims that hiding his closed eyes whenever he chooses to turn away from the torture is the purpose of the mask, of which I am doubtful, but it's certainly a fascinating visual for a character's distaste towards their own actions to be hidden behind a cover shaped like their faction's insignia. Either way, in his eyes, he is doing something necessary for the Decepticon cause, not just engaging in gratuitous violence.

To me, his appearance and the way it differs from his team has a strong relation to his backstory. Although Tarn is an outlier and a powerful figure in the Decepticon faction, he was still once a regular mech, a greatly underprivileged mech, even. His turn towards the Decepticon cause is framed as something drastic, something that was exceptionally unlikely for a mech like him, yet under Megatron's guidance, he became the worst of the faction.

In this way, his design, specifically his mask being his most distinguishing characteristic, is emblematic of the corrupting force of Megatron and the Decepticon cause. Outwardly, not much about him suggests his penchant for violence extreme even by Decepticon standards (let's ignore the menacing black-purple color scheme he ain't special in that). Even the special power he uses to kill was once used to save. It's the Decepticon cause and Megatron, symbolized by the mask he wears, that made him the cruel sadist that he is.