#i.e they are all reversed

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

These calls accompany Victor’s High School SSR “Carefree Years,” but don’t contain any spoilers from the story itself~ ❤️

⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for content yet to be released on the global server! ⌚

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

【1ST CALL】

Victor: The playlist a certain someone just shared with me seems to be a bit different from her usual taste. 

Victor: “Melodies that accompanied us through those years of youth” ... 

Victor: What’s gotten you so nostalgic suddenly? 

MC: Haha, I stumbled upon this through random notifications and found it quite fascinating~ 

MC: So, speaking of which, what kind of stuff would you usually have playing on your earphones back when you were at school? It wouldn’t be all English listening exercises, right? 

Victor: Set your wild thoughts aside, and yes, of course, I would also listen to music sometimes. 

Victor: But there were also times when I would have nothing playing at all. 

MC: You mean like simply leaving them in your ears? 

Victor: Yeah. Seeing you with your earphones on, some of the individuals who are tactful enough won’t come forward to initiate a conversation again. 

Victor: Doing this is convenient to save yourself from a lot of unnecessary hassles. 

MC: Turns out, it can also be used as a shielding device! What a cool way to pull a “switcheroo”! Speaking of which, I’ve had similar experiences too. 

MC: Victor, do you know what other things an electronic dictionary can be handy for besides looking up words? 

Victor: Importing e-books in .txt format. 

MC: Ah, so, you did this too! 

Victor: Nope. I caught people in the act. 

MC: You wouldn’t be... 

Victor: Mm-hmm. I was in charge of inspecting such rule-breaching activities back then. 

MC: ...humph, I have nothing more to discuss with someone who used to be an inspector. 

MC: But out of curiosity, what would happen if I were to be caught red-handed by you? 

Victor: I would most likely rap on your desk, signaling for you to step outside with me. 

Victor: And then, I would confiscate the electronic dictionary and hand you a registration form. 

Victor: [putting on a voice but doesn’t sound strict at all, subconsciously reminding himself she is my girlfriend and I’d get hell later LMAO] “Classmate, write your name here, and remember not to get caught by me again.” 

MC: That strict? What if I plead with the Discipline Inspector for leniency~ 

MC: [you’re supposed to put on a cute voice here haha] “I bought this with the pocket money I saved for a long time! Please, inspector classmate, let me off the hook, pretty please, sob sob sob~” 

Victor: Based solely on your tone over the phone call, I can’t feel much sincerity or remorse. 

Victor: I’ll be home shortly, and I’m looking forward to your in-person demonstration. 

Victor: Then, I’ll carefully mull it over whether to let you off the hook, or not. 

—

—

【2ND CALL】

Victor: MC, your package just arrived, and it had some damage to the box when it was delivered. So, I went ahead and unpacked it for you. 

Victor: But why did you buy a whole box of steam eye masks and eye patches? 

MC: Well, the seller happened to be running a promotion, and I couldn’t resist the temptation... 

Victor: Mm-hmm, you do get tempted very easily. 

Victor: If not for that, we wouldn’t have a stockpile of “buy three, get one free” laundry detergent at home, nor would we have those Hawaiian-themed bath towels as “freebies for signing up.” 

Victor: Let’s make it clear beforehand, don’t pull me into “using them up” together when the time comes. 

MC: Victor, don’t be so heartless. I’ve put a lot of thought into selecting these items this time. 

MC: You may not be aware, but steam eye masks come in many different scents nowadays. 

Victor: Chamomile, rose, eucalyptus... I can understand how these floral scents might work, but coffee aroma? Are you sure it can help with sleep? 

MC: Oh no, that one’s for keeping you energized! I hadn’t heard of this one before, so I decided to purchase it and give it a try~ 

MC: They claim its effectiveness is on par with the eye exercises we used to do in our student days; it not only provides eye protection but also refreshes and sharpens the mind. 

Victor: In that case, why don’t you consider resuming the eye exercises twice a day from now on? Who knows, it might yield even better results. 

MC: In the world of adults, it’s very challenging to squeeze out time for exercise. 

Victor: I’m not entirely convinced of that. 

Victor: If you utilize all this time you spend shopping impulsively on online sites, it will be sufficient. 

MC: Humph, when I get home tonight, I’m gonna make you join me for an eye mask evaluating session! 

Victor: I’m afraid my eyes won’t be able to handle such a heavy responsibility. 

MC: Well, even though a certain someone says that, in the end, he will still cooperate with me~ 

MC: When the time comes, I will have the aromatherapy and candles prepared, and we’ll start with the eyepatches to kickstart the relaxation process. 

MC: After that, we’ll apply the eye masks for a complete relaxation session. 

Victor: ...couldn’t we perhaps spend this time better participating in some outdoor activities, something that genuinely focuses on eye health and relaxation? 

Victor: Instead of relying on flashy remedies, it’s more effective to go out and do some physical activities. 

MC: Hehe, have you realized that we have already mapped out a perfect weekend itinerary? 

MC: Why don’t we just go to that camping site we’ve been wanting to go fishing for a long time! Hold on, I’ll call to make a reservation shortly. 

Victor: It seems like a certain someone had this all planned out in advance, am I right? 

MC: It’s all thanks to CEO Victor’s guidance that this small idea was implemented in reality so efficiently~ 

Victor: I think I’d prefer to experience your “efficiency” in other aspects. 

Victor: Why don’t you start by making a checklist of the camping essentials we’ll need? 

Victor: And after you’re off work, try to get back home a bit earlier. I’ll have the aromatherapy and candles prepared in advance to create a cozy work-friendly atmosphere for a certain someone. 

────────────

[acesammy]

I really want to watch Korra and enjoy it, but every time I start it, they give the quick backstory of republic city and i literally cannot get past it

[psychopomp-namine]

I actually have a fic idea but lc is a show that's like. you will never ever have all the information and context until the end. and I am a writer who writes best and more confidently when I have all the info and context at my fingertips. so now I'm just like 🧍‍♂️

anyway. ramble in the tags

[atherix]

Oh? Are we allowed to know said change?

Yeah sure!

In the past I mentioned Elves keeping their hair long as a sort of natural headcovering, and was a way to show respect and honor for their god.

Well, I'm changing it to be that Elves keep their hair long still as a way to honor their god AND their ancestors; the first Elves were created fully-formed, designed by the Fae god, and she gave them long hair- and designed as they were... Elves keep their hair long to honor their god's wishes/design as well as honor their ancestors, and honor is such a big thing in the Fae culture(s) that it naturally became important over time.

So rather than long hair mimicking headcovers, it's headcovers that mimic long hair for the Elves; an Elf who wears their hair short (for personal comfort, mental/emotional health, or because their job/role in society is not easily performed with long hair) will often wear a headcover- whether that's a scarf or a veil or even just ribbons or something else is up to the Elf ofc- in place of keeping their hair long.

Ofc it's all optional in the end, but long hair (or in its place, a headcover of some kind to mimic long hair) is the most obvious and open display of honor and respect among the Elves. An Elf with short hair is often seen as either dishonorable or even disgraced or disrespectful, which does suck but not all aspects of Fae culture can be nice. Luckily Humans in the Fae realm, even those who have been Fae-claimed, are generally exempt from these expectations; they're solely placed on Elves, and not any other Fae creature, because the first Elves were all designed with long hair.

Huh. I wonder what it means if someone forcibly cuts an Elf's hair :)

[koushirouizumi]

{YU-GI-OH!} Duel Monsters Type: AMV ~ Yuugi & {Ace-implied!}Yami {Atem*} (*This AMV mainly contains 'Yami''s form) [Reading in Aro-Ace or Aro-Acespec!Yami is also Fine] {Just please respect my own headcanons too!} Title: "Taking Over Me"

Summary: "You saw me M o u r n i n g my {xxxx} for YOU, and T O U C H E D MY H A N D..."

"...Just to F I N D Y O U--"

Music © E.v.a.n.e.s.e.n.c.e/Amy Lee

Spoiler Info: -Leads up to End of Anime-only “DOMA” Arc's Yuugi & Yami Duel {Anime-Only sequences; not included in original manga} -{Mainly} D.M. Only Eps -A single clip from the original 1st series by Toei opens it, but nothing else from it is included.

*Any Lip-sync'ng was unintentional {+Any similar Might be removed in any future Remake}

Yu-Gi-Oh! © Kazuki Takahashi Yu-Gi-Oh! 1st Series {Anime} © Toei Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters {Anime} © Studio Gallop This is a FAN-WORK. NO $$$ is being made off this work.

{AMV by (Young) Me} {DO NOT REPOST} {DO NOT COPY} {DO NOT REPRODUCE MY WORKS UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES WITHOUT MY PERMISSION}

(Note: This is an OLD work {10+ yrs old}. and one of my last YGO D. M. ones of the timeframe; however, it was still very early on in my making of these type of works {AMVs} when I finished this. The footage used will reflect this, as it was made before widespread transition into H.D. Footages. Please be understanding.) [There may be intent for me to remake it someday!] Overall, it is Complete, and other than removing accidental lipsyncs; Most of it I do not plan to change.

Note: -This video’s embed may randomly not display at times, Showing like it’s “down”, but it’s not at this time! {It usually happens late at night[s] or seemingly when Tumblr and/or Vimeo is experiencing very high traffic} If that happens, please consider watching the Direct link here!

{I am NOT taking new Requests [or making changes to this one] (+for this series) at this time. Please DO NOT Ask!}

[boogiewoogieweeb]

I'm not saying The Terror in general and Joplittle specifically have definitively given me permanent brain rot but I am finding it funny that I'm picking up parallels and similarities with both in a series as far removed from it as Netflix's Blue Eye Samurai

[gutsby]

Brighter Times

Pairing: Dark!Joel x Reader

Summary: You’ve always been Joel’s favorite. Always.

Warnings: 18+. NONCON. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Graphic depictions of nonconsensual sexual encounters, past and present. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced breeding. Allusions to disordered eating and depression. Age gap. Lima Syndrome (i.e., a reverse of Stockholm Syndrome, wherein a captor grows an attachment to their victim). Orgasm vis-à-vis nipple stimulation. Dacryphilia (brief).

Word count: 8.3k

You made him happy.

Few in your group fully understood the importance of keeping a man like Joel Miller content, but when you didn’t do your part as expected, they sure as hell felt it.

When your wet cunt didn’t wake him up first thing in the morning, or greet him within minutes of his return from a hunt or raid, all of them became the objects of his wrath. He got angry. Impatient. Cruel. Not that those sorts of things weren’t already percolating beneath the surface of your leader’s cold and callous exterior, but when you weren’t fucking him punctually, the bad got much worse.

Which was why you didn’t resist when he called on you all hours of the day. It didn’t matter if you were mending clothes, preparing a meal, feeding the livestock, tending the garden, washing heaps and heaps of bloodstained whatever-the-fucks needed cleaning after the latest, most violent incursion the group had made—Joel took precedence. He always did. His dick was as tyrannical and repulsive as the man it served, and that man didn’t like to wait. For the sake of the group, you never let him.

“Why does she get to stop after just one bucket?”

That came from the same sniveling cunt it always did.

You were picking berries. Your knees groaned and ached from having been plastered to the forest floor a grueling hour and a half last night, getting nailed from behind. One of Joel’s men had died that day. Evidently, it was as much your problem as it was his. Now, it hurt to stand.

It also hurt you to sit, so you were currently propped up against a tree and relishing the momentary respite while the rest of your company went scouring for blueberries.

The woman who led your group—the only other person who knew about your little ‘arrangement’ with Joel, and saw you wincing as you walked to the fields that morning—shot the younger girl a look. She murmured something about it being none of her goddamn business what you did or didn’t do, just mind your own, and silently, you thanked her. You didn’t chance a smile, knowing how much worse the accusations of favoritism would get, but you squared your shoulders. You cast a look around.

And then, as if on cue, the second most dreadful voice you could’ve heard that morning shouted your name from somewhere behind you. You turned, frowning.

“Yeah, Tommy?” you yelled back.

Yards away, the younger Miller brother waved you over.

“C’mere. Joel needs you back at camp, sweetheart.”

As soft, kind, and saccharine as the words seemed reaching your ears, their sound produced the opposite effect. Every head turned to you, and several snickers ensued. Others scowled or rolled their eyes. Meanwhile, your legs felt as heavy as lead trudging that way, and your gut clenched. Why did he have to do this now?

Surely Joel could’ve picked a less conspicuous time.

Was he trying to humiliate you? Let it be known that you were his own human fleshlight, to be used on any urge?

Well, that was kind of what you were. Still, this sucked.

And you were startled again when next Tommy yelled:

“Bring Rachel with you!”

Rachel. The same bitch who berated you relentlessly for getting ‘free passes’ during work and made you feel like shit about yourself every hour of every day? That Rachel?

If Joel was asking for a threesome you’d personally kick his teeth through the roof of his mouth. What an asshole.

To your dismay, Rachel was already trotting beside you.

Smiling.

“Must be my lucky day. I get to fuck off and do noth—”

“Shut up.”

Your new companion’s grin only grew. She leaned closer.

“You think Joel’s gonna ask me to suck his big, fat—”

THWACK.

Admittedly, self-control was never your métier. You smacked her across the face and kept plodding on.

Luckily, the hit was quick, and Tommy didn’t see.

Your voice lowered to a hiss as you drew closer:

“Be my fucking guest. Fuck his geriatric brains out for all I care—it ain’t all the fun you seem to think it is. It sucks.”

And that was the truth. You detested Joel. Every other day was like a waking nightmare with just the Cordyceps shit alone, but having to fuck a creep three times your age? Go right ahead, Rachel. Take him off my hands.

You just hoped Joel would leave you out if she did.

All he’d needed you and Rachel for was mending a fence.

A fence.

Half the camp was gone for the day—either out in the fields or doing recon in a nearby town—and that had meant Joel had had some extra slots left open on perimeter duty. He’d just needed two warm bodies to carry boards over to fix a gap that was left in the thing.

And you felt fucking stupid for being singled out in front of everyone else, all of whom assumed that you and Rachel were sent back to camp to ‘service’ Joel.

The fucking twat.

You’d left as soon as the job was done. You hadn’t bothered going back to scavenge for food or have another little tête-à-tête with your best friend Rachel. You’d gone home and stayed home, where you remained all afternoon in a half-enraged stupor. Your knees ached.

Your head throbbed, too, when, after supper came and went and you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to go, your stomach was empty. You realized you hadn’t eaten since the night before, when Joel had abruptly dragged you out of the canteen for your brutal forest rendezvous. Though the idea of a meal sounded revolting to you, you knew you needed to eat. You just wished it didn’t have to end with your knees bleeding and your back smeared with cum. You rolled onto your side in bed and sighed.

And just when you contemplated closing your eyes and trying to sleep, you heard a knock on your front door.

It was quick and soft.

Probably the kind older woman from your group. She sometimes dropped food off at your place if she noticed you’d been missing from a meal. Slowly, you sat up.

“I’m fine tonight, Cleo!” you called out weakly.

Your belly ached and your head swam with nausea and pain, but right now, the last thing you needed was human interaction. Especially the courteous kind.

The knocks sounded again.

“Cleo, really, I’m alright.”

You felt a bit like shit for treating the one and only friend you’d come to make in months like this, but something in your head just wouldn’t allow for pleasantries. You stared blankly at the door from where you lay in bed.

When several seconds passed and the knocking ceased, you started to close your eyes again, softly and slowly.

And jerked them right back open again when the front door to your home went crashing back on its hinges.

The lock was snapped. The wood bent in with a kick.

You shot up in bed to see Joel Miller barrel through the threshold, arms bulging and broad and bracing themselves hard against the wood that gave way beneath his force. One bicep bled through his sleeve.

“Joel!” You instinctively flinched back where you sat.

You cast a look around yourself to make sure you hadn’t left out any contraband—whether that was magazines, books, or even food your leader didn’t want you eating outside of the dining hall—and your pulse quickened. It spiked when Joel thrust himself into your bedroom next.

You expected him to speak. He didn’t.

You expected him to claw at your body first thing. He did.

Seeing greedy hands outstretched and moving fast on your thin, pale dress, you had only to yelp a weak protest—‘Joel, please, please, no’—and swat helplessly at him. He shoved you off. Ignored your pleas. Didn’t blink twice when your face screwed up in pain at the first pull on your hair. In fact, his grip only tightened. He yanked your face up to greet his own in the dim glow of your room.

“Joel, I don’t wanna,” you whimpered like a beggar.

Joel’s hand made a fist.

“Don’t wanna what?”

Well…have sex.

You couldn’t say the words aloud, but your eyes were silently welling with tears. Your two hands pawed at his forearm and tried to pry it away, but Joel kept holding.

“Don’t wanna what?” he growled.

He glowered down at you. The man wanted a reply.

Slowly, you got your lips to work: “Don’t wanna…do it.”

You had no idea why you were afraid to say the word ‘sex’ around him, but your throat was tightening, and the moisture in your eyes had begun to slide down your face. You met Joel’s gaze with another watery, pleading look.

“By ‘it’ do you mean ‘eat’?” he scoffed. “‘Cause I don’t recall seein’ you in attendance at dinner, sweetheart.”

Your stomach involuntarily clenched.

Your grip loosened from his arm.

Joel’s only constricted. He tilted your head to keep your eyes locked on him. And then he thumbed at your skull.

“What? Cat got your tongue tonight?” he sneered.

Seconds had passed and you still hadn’t spoken.

Your throat was thick with discomfort, but somehow, you managed to muster up the courage to respond quietly:

“I just couldn’t…move much today. I’m still sore, Joel.”

And when you blinked, a new barrage of tears fell.

Frankly, you half-expected your leader to slap you across the face. No bitchin’ about a sore, achy cunt, y’hear me? Your body was made for it. But instead, the hand that ordinarily doled out punishment for whining took to stroking your cheek while the other held your hair.

Joel nearly looked sympathetic to your plight.

Then he cupped your chin. Lifted it to him.

“Was I too rough on you last night, hm?”

You nodded slowly.

For some reason, seeing him appear kind and contrite made your stomach turn worse than if he’d just hit you. You winced when his thumb stroked your bottom lip.

Then he loosened his grip from your hair and your chin and he dropped down beside you in bed. He sat back.

Joel straightened against the headboard and regarded you with an inscrutable look. You couldn’t tell if he was pitying you or preparing for the roughest fuck of his life.

Maybe both.

You sniffled and wiped at your nose.

“I-I know you like what you do to me—and how good it makes you feel—but my body ain’t made of rubber, Joel. I can’t just…go back to normal after you…you do those…”

Without your permission, your face screwed up again.

Fuck, were you about to start full-on sobbing?

No, no you were not.

You forced your gaze to the ceiling and started blinking.

And before you knew it or could attempt to get him to stop, Joel leaned in closer to you. He brushed a knuckle against your cheek, which sharply turned from his touch.

“Hey,” he started, low. You expected him to strike you.

Then the words came out even more softly than the first:

“‘S’alright. I know it hurts. I know you’re still hurtin’.”

Almost as quickly as you’d turned from him, your head cocked back. You couldn’t believe that tone of voice.

Joel had never spoken so gently to you in your life.

It wasn’t like he was incapable of it. The man had a dog, and every so often, you heard him talk sweet to the little wiry-haired mutt. C’mere, sugar, that’s it. You like those little scratches jus’ behind your ear, don’t ya, Daisy girl?

It sounded pathetic, but there had been a time when you wished Joel would speak to you that way. At least with the dignity he gave a dog—why didn’t you deserve it?

Presently, your eyes were fixed on his. You frowned.

“What? Y’think I’m some kinda monster who can’t tell when somebody’s a little wore-out? C’mere, kiddo.”

C’mere.

Well, at least you got the same treatment as Daisy.

It wasn’t regularly in your best interest to be drawing anywhere close to Joel Miller, so your body stayed planted where it was on the other side of the bed. You grimaced only a little when you felt his hand close around your wrist and tug you over to where he sat.

His shirt smelled of blood and something woodsy.

Both made you want to recoil, but Joel held tight.

“Now don’t go squirmin’ away. Hey.” He shook you once, when you’d unconsciously jerked back from his grip, and your body froze in place. You knew that hold well, and how tight and unforgiving it could get. You didn’t move.

“That’s better,” Joel hummed. “Now, on your side.”

The order made your skin bristle, but you followed it.

Joel smiled and proceeded to lie down next to you.

That big, broad, bleeding arm you’d seen before was shortly enveloping your frame, dragging your back to press up against his front, and then snaking around your waist. Joel held you to him so that his face could rest comfortably behind your shoulder. You tensed up.

This was how it started.

Joel behind you, holding you tight so that you couldn’t escape. In no time at all, he’d be unzipping the fly on his jeans, unbuckling his belt, and then pressing his palm flat across the side of your face, telling you to stay still, or I’ll make sure you regret it. You didn’t often get a warning before Joel pushed inside. There had never once been a time when he’d asked if it would be OK to do it.

You didn’t expect tonight to be any different.

In an effort to ease his passage and save yourself any more pain than was absolutely necessary, you closed your eyes and tried to think about pleasanter things.

Like plush, stubbled lips brushing up the column of your neck. Hands kneading the flesh around your hips in a comforting way. Eyes trailing lightly—appreciatively—over your body as you’d always thought a lover might do.

It wasn’t like you were craving romance, per se. Hell, the concept of it half-scared you to death, with the thought of someone else touching your body and cherishing it and not wanting to use it merely as a means to an end seemed like something out of a fairytale book at this point in your life. You’d accepted that love would never touch you personally; these fantasies that played on repeat in your mind were little more than a vestige of a world no longer in existence. There was nothing wrong indulging when faced with a thing as awful and raw as—

“Hey.”

Joel shook you again.

Your chin jerked back to him, and you blinked.

“Y-Yeah?”

Over your shoulder, Joel stared back at you.

“You need a minute?”

You blinked again. You couldn’t hope to control the look of pure bewilderment that was painting your expression.

“What?”

“Do you…need a minute? Y’know, to stop the…hurtin’.”

Joel had never stopped to consider your pain in all the years you’d known him. Not on a raid, not out in the fields, not on a ‘job’ you both knew you hated, like cramming his dick in your mouth or any other place he deemed appropriate. He’d regarded your feelings as something ancillary, always. Even as you’d sobbed in his arms before, his choices invariably, inevitably defaulted to him. Without fail. Why he was acting any differently now was beyond you. You sat back, fully dumbstruck.

“What?” you asked him again.

Behind you, Joel just smiled.

He trailed his touch up the side of your body as if it were the most normal thing to do in the world, and he stopped when it reached the crook of your neck. He brushed his knuckles against your pulse point, then stroked it more.

“Tell me where it hurts.”

Your mouth was dry. Somehow, you managed to indicate with your fingers and a murmur that it hurt right…here.

Just below where his own hand had strayed, there was a bite mark on your collar bone where Joel had sank his teeth into flesh the night before. The wound was bright red and throbbing, reminding you every hour how wholly he controlled your body. Your frock bared the sight for everyone in camp to see, including the man himself.

Joel leaned down and kissed it.

Where canines had once punctured skin and pulled back to flash you a smug, conceited grin, beaming at the way they had marked you up, Joel’s lips only soothed it now.

He caressed the little lesions on your skin and drew back.

“Where else?” he asked.

Still, your mind was too discombobulated to form a single coherent sentence, so you pointed instead.

With a slow, shaky hand, you gestured to your legs.

Joel peered down after it, down the mattress.

“Banged your knees up pretty bad, huh?”

“Y-Yes.”

In your mind, you sounded pathetic. Yes, these poor little legs had to hold yourself up in doggystyle last night after Joel had decided to fuck a day’s worth of frustration into your cunt. That was the norm.

And this was where Joel would slide down the bed to grip your thighs, hold them tightly, and press his lips to all the cuts and bruises on your kneecaps, apparently.

You watched it all unfold with a harrowing sense of awe.

He’d never touched you there. He’d never kissed you there. Joel Miller had never so much as held your hand unless it had been to drag you someplace dark and isolated, and now he was petting your injured legs?

Out of habit, you jerked back from that touch.

You clambered quickly, gracelessly up the bed into a kind of half-sitting position, and with your eyes wide and fixed on his, you managed the first words in what felt like ages:

“What are you doing, Joel?”

The man who’d just kissed your neck and your kneecaps planted a hand on the bed. He slid closer to you, no doubt seeing a fear seize your features as he did.

He placed that palm on your thigh. He squeezed it lightly.

“I’m tryin’ to be nice. Helpful an’ all that.”

You didn’t know what that meant.

You were so stunned by his words and actions that you scarcely even felt it yourself when fingers tapped skin.

Joel drummed a gentle beat, posing a new question.

“Where else does it hurt?”

“It…it…”

You shook your head. Blinked through your present daze.

“Show me where it hurts. Use your hands,” Joel said.

So you did.

Gingerly, wordlessly, you drew your hand to your tummy. You placed a palm over your middle and felt pretty silly.

It hurts inside.

You didn’t give me a chance to prepare last night, and now every inch where you invaded feels like it’s on fire.

You wished you had the strength to tell him it hurt. That you hated him for it and wished he were dead most days. Instead, when Joel placed his hand over yours and searched your eyes with a soft, tender look in his, you felt tears spring up again. You shook your head, wincing.

“It hurt here, too?” Joel nearly whispered.

Now you nodded your head. Yes, it hurts.

And Joel stroked it gently. Delicately.

He lowered his scarred, stubbled face to yours, and in yet another act that would leave you shocked for hours, he kissed your cheek. He continued to rub your stomach.

Meanwhile, it felt like your gut plummeted to the floor.

Done jumping away for the time being, though, you tilted your head to him. You opened your mouth to either speak or suck in a breath, and suddenly that, too, was invaded by his mouth. Joel kissed you on the lips.

It was so soft you didn’t think to stop him.

The man had forced your mouth to his plenty of times before, but never had it felt like this—featherlight, gentle.

The kiss was as calming as it was disconcerting. Joel’s lips worked expertly over your own, which were limp and unmoving, and a hand cupped your cheek. You didn’t close your eyes, even when his tongue traced the seam of your lips. This was how the lovers in your dreams always kissed. But Joel was no lover; this was odd.

“Wanna lay back?” he asked after pulling away.

You didn’t. But you did it anyway.

With Joel following your descent to the bed, slotting overtop your body in the fashion of a man about to mount, you thought surely it would happen now.

He would fuck you, whether you liked it or not.

Those kisses had been but a sickening prelude to something much worse, something more violent than you could likely even imagine. You closed your eyes.

Joel slid between your legs.

He pressed his hips to yours.

His breaths fanned over your face in a familiar and menacing way, and his expression was probably cruel.

He kissed you again.

This time, you couldn’t help but jump. He was using tongue, gently. Working the muscle in your mouth like he wanted you to enjoy the feel and savor the taste of him.

You’d been fucked against your will many times. You had no idea how to tongue-kiss someone and make it good.

You whimpered into Joel’s mouth, and as if sensing your thoughts, he drew back. He peered down, smiling faintly.

“Is this OK?”

A beat.

“I— I guess.”

Joel fully grinned at that, teeth gleaming in the lamplight. He pecked your lips again, softly, and you could feel a chuckle rumble through his chest as he did.

“You are too precious, y’know that?” he said.

You sat in silence while he leaned back to lift the hem of your dress. Again, you thought he would be undoing his belt and the zip on his jeans and then shoving his cock inside you in the next moment. That was usually how it went. But for what felt like the hundredth time that night, you were surprised to find that he wasn’t pursuing that route at all. He was simply raising your dress above your belly so that he could rub the tender skin that was there.

He pressed a palm to your tummy, and it had an alarmingly calming, warming effect. Your muscles eased under his touch. Though your chest rose and fell in quick, uneven breaths at the prospect of what was to come next, your lower half was tranquil. The pain ebbed away.

Your gaze flickered to Joel’s face, and you found he was already watching you intently. He tipped his chin down.

“Feel any better?”

You waited. You watched him back.

After a second, you nodded your head.

And that wasn’t a lie. His hand smoothing circles over your stomach had made the ache from last night drain out of you, it seemed. You couldn’t believe it. Slowly, a pleased smile worked its way onto Joel’s face, and he was rubbing circles even gentler than he had before. He kissed your forehead, and something stirred inside you.

You ignored it.

You blinked, and suddenly, Joel was lifting your hemline higher with his other hand. Up your belly, your ribs, and—

“Hey.” That came out as more of a squeak than a plea.

Joel’s smile didn’t flinch. He dragged the fabric past your chest, baring your breasts to the open air, and strangely, his gaze never left your face. You shot a look down in embarrassment, wanting him to pull it back into place, but you didn’t dare take hold of the hem yourself. You just sat back in muted discomfort, wanting to move.

“‘S’okay. They’re just more body parts, kiddo. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with showin’ ‘em off when I’m here.”

They were nothing he hadn’t seen before, either.

You squirmed in place and pursed your lips.

And, though you wanted his gentle ministrations on your stomach to continue, this kind of development made you antsy. Achy. You couldn’t quite explain the medley of strange emotions that came from being bare around a man like Joel, in a context like this, but you were almost positive you didn’t like it. You peered up at him, pleading.

“What’s the problem? I just wanna help,” Joel replied.

And, before you could shoot another look his way or turn from him, curling away, he did something unexpected.

He leaned down and, just like he’d done with his mouth working yours, he pressed a kiss to one of your breasts.

He didn’t budge, even when you did.

Even when you jumped—plainly frightened of that new, wet feeling latching onto your nipple—Joel rooted himself in place and didn’t stray an inch from where he was. He sucked on that stiff, hardened peak with all the assuredness he had mowing down herds and herds of infected in the woods outside your community, and it didn’t seem to register at all with him that you were uncomfortable. He simply licked and sucked and kissed.

The ache in your belly got bigger, but not with any pain.

Joel sucked your nipple into your mouth, and you felt it—trembling pleasure. The kind you fantasized about when the man was otherwise draining the sensation from your body with every brutal stab of his hips. At last, it was a thing for you to feel, and not just dream about. The shock hit so hard you had to grip something behind you.

Your pillow.

That was fine.

You sucked in a breath that sounded a bit more like a gasp than a normal inhale, and you clasped on harder.

“Joel,” you mewled.

Joel lifted his head.

“What’s wrong? Did that hurt?”

Your wide eyes met him, bewildered.

“I…”

You swallowed, so wholly unacquainted with the feeling you didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t painful, just a bit…

“Strange, huh?” Joel grinned.

The hand that rubbed your stomach moved to your side to tickle it lightly. You jerked again, and the grin grew.

His mouth lowered back to your breasts—the other one, now—and his eyes never left yours once while he did. He kissed your nipple like he’d done to the first. You saw his tongue dart out past cracked lips, under a sea of mostly grey facial hairs, and he licked that hardened nub. He smeared saliva all over the flushed little thing, and you should’ve been disgusted by how much spit spread down your skin, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to hate it. The feelings his actions roused were pleasurable.

You blinked and let out a ragged breath.

You drew another into your lungs, and your chest shook.

Joel couldn’t have looked more enamored if he tried.

“Does that make the hurt go away? Make you feel a little…warm and tingly inside?” he asked you delicately.

“Feels…yeah.” You’d lost the power to think again.

You’d lost the powers of basic human cognition, and all you wanted was for his lips and tongue to caress your nipples. This man that you hated made you feel something good. You didn’t have words for it.

“Has anyone ever done this to you before?”

Right as he asked it, Joel returned to where he’d been and dragged his mouth over one peak. He sucked it in between his lips, then released it with a loud, wet pop.

You couldn’t help it; you whimpered.

You let out a shrill, soft whine like this was the single best thing you’d ever felt, and Joel Miller was the cause of it.

He did it again.

And again.

And he reached up to tweak your other nipple between his forefinger and thumb at the same time, and that was when you felt it: a hot coil. A tightening knot. You sighed.

Your chin jerked down to your chest to see the chaos for yourself, and you found Joel grinning back up at you.

“Has anyone ever done this to you?” he reiterated.

“No.”

You shook your head. You wanted more.

You needed more of his mouth, more of this feeling, and you hated feeling beholden to anyone else, but a pleasure like this felt like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to a girl like you, and you had no idea when the next time Joel would ever be this nice, so you asked.

“Can— can you do it again?”

Joel obliged you without another word.

He took sweet, pebbled flesh between his teeth and tugged it. Pinched your nipple with his fingers and twisted. Licked you repeatedly, drenched you with his spit, and somehow, you loved every filthy second of it.

You ground your heels into the bed. The own noises bubbling out of your throat were growing louder, and Joel’s suckling sounds, too, were picking up volume as he worked his mouth quicker and harder and greedier than he had before. The wrinkles and the greys on his face showed his age with every breath he took—made this whole encounter feel that much more depraved—but how he took you between his lips made him seem years younger. Ebullient and spry and keen in how he did it.

That old, strange something in your tummy was growing. You were hardly aware of what it meant, much less able to control how it spread. It swelled inside you, and all you knew was that you wanted it to keep billowing, keep rising, keep numbing the pain inside you, and save you from the harsh, cruel reality of the hand you’d been dealt in sex to date. You wanted to get to feel good, for once.

Joel drew your nipple in his mouth one last time for a thick, wet brush from the tip of his tongue, and that was when the knot in your stomach snapped. You cried out loud, eyes almost crossing from the sheer pleasure that was coursing through your body and—shit, was this what Joel got to feel every time he pushed himself in you?—your toes curled. Your eyes closed. Your back promptly arched off the bed, pushing your chest even more into him, and the man clearly didn’t mind in the slightest. He continued to lap at your taut, sensitive flesh while he pinched at the other, and something like a groan thrummed through his chest. You could feel it.

When your eyes opened again, they landed on his face.

Joel’s was upturned, addressing you with a beaming sort of look while he hovered no more than an inch or so over your breasts and panted like he’d just sprinted a mile.

“Did you just…orgasm?” he asked, half-breathless.

You weren’t totally sure what that was—had never experienced one yourself, so you couldn’t say with certainty if that was what it had been. You stared back.

“I don’t know.”

You swallowed, hoping that wouldn’t make him angry.

On the contrary, Joel swept you into his arms a moment later. He held you tight to his chest, your breasts pressing to his white, soiled shirt and briefly commingling with the blood spattered there.

You tensed out of habit. Then you eased just a bit.

He was hugging you. Crawling up your body in bed and laying you back in the sheets, where you’d so kindly just showed a climax Joel almost certainly wasn’t expecting.

He kissed your neck. Your cheeks. Your lips. He overcrowded your space, but your head was so busy with all the bright, fuzzy feelings of release that you didn’t have the sense to notice. Dimly, you heard the clink of a belt, but in your near-anoetic state, it didn’t fully register.

That was what it was supposed to feel like.

No crying, no begging, no pleading for your life.

Just bliss, swollen to the limit and flooding your system.

You wanted to do it again. Maybe not with Joel, but just a man who put your pleasure first. The one you always pictured in your fantasies could be a reality, someday. He’d probably be a little closer to you in age, maybe learning these things for the first time like you. You could experience it together; you wouldn’t have to remain the way you were under Joel’s thumb if you just branched out a bit. Talked to people who weren’t him. The sudden influx of dopamine and oxytocin had your head humming with new ideas, and you knew it was likely too soon to start planning a way away from Joel, but just maybe—

“That was the best thing I ever seen,” he said presently.

You snapped back into the moment and saw Joel hovering over your frame: hips bracketed by your legs and arms bracing themselves on either side of your head on the pillow. His jeans and boxers were shoved down his thighs, just far enough to let his cock spring free of its confines, and currently, the round, leaking head of the thing was gliding up and down your slit. You shuddered.

“What— what was the best thing?” You needed to stall.

Joel brightened above you, like he was charmed by the tone of voice you’d used. He leaned in and kissed you.

You tried not to wince. You tried to look positive.

“You. Cummin’ from just my tongue and fingers on your nipples. Sexiest sight I seen. I knew you’d come around.”

Joel grabbed the base of his dick and started lowering his hips to draw closer to your entrance. He bumped the ring of muscles with the tip, and you were stunned to hear a weak, but audible squelch from where he met you.

You couldn’t see it now, but you could feel the insides of your legs soaked through with your arousal. It dripped like nectar from your cunt and gave Joel the perfect opportunity to slick himself up with your wetness.

The old man rolled his hips and nudged you again.

“It’s gonna be so much better from now on,” he went on. “Tommy was right—a little sweet talkin’, nipple tweakin’ before a man gets to stick it to his woman and she’ll make it real easy by gettin’ wet. Even better if she cums.”

Your stomach turned at those words: his woman.

You didn’t want to do this with Joel again, at least not in the way he’d just made you climax. That felt intimate, and completely wrong for the dynamic you two had developed. As you slowly made the descent from replete pleasure to dread, you sensed something extra warm, leaking beads of precum at your still-wet entrance.

Joel planted an arm even closer beside you and nudged your nose with his own. His eyes were glossy and wide.

You knew a good man wouldn’t be found behind them.

He sank the first inch of his cock within the embrace of your cunt, and the face above you twisted. Yours did, too.

His was out of pleasure. Yours was more like a life-sized, grating kind of agony for which you could not find a name. Your body ached with it, though you didn’t dare to show it on your face. You sighed instead. You bit your lip.

And all the while, Joel was wedging his impossibly hard member inside you. Making way by force, but in a much less painful way than he had before. You were wet enough to give him a tolerably smooth entrance.

He filled every ridge and crevice of your most intimate place, and he heaved a groan at the gratifying sensation.

Joel always enjoyed sex with you.

Even at his lowest, with his eyes seeing nothing but red and likely viewing you as more sentient hole than human being, he always preferred the space between to your legs to anyplace else. As far as you knew, he had sex with no one else but you. Sometimes, you wondered why.

But tonight, you couldn’t think for long when the tip of Joel’s cock kissed the edge of your cervix. For the first time in your life, it didn’t hurt, and in fact felt pretty nice. You made a face to mask the pleasure, and his length buried itself even deeper. Joel groaned as you whined.

“That feels good, don’t it?” he murmured. His hips increased their pace, and suddenly, his thrusts were shaking you. Your bed frame clanged against the wall.

Out of sheer necessity, you had to wrap your arms around the back of Joel’s neck as he fucked you. You felt the weight of his balls slap your ass with every thrust he delivered, and your heels dug hard into his lower back. Slick sounds and stifled whines were all you could hear for several seconds, save for Joel’s breathing, which was loud and shallow. You detected a trace of bourbon on it.

“That feels nice, havin’ your old man balls deep in this sweet, perfect cunt, huh? Tell me,” he said, tone dark.

You nodded once.

Your eyes pricked with moisture again, and this time, you couldn’t tell with any degree of certainty which emotion it stemmed from. You felt vulnerable. Overwhelmed. Like you weren’t in control of yourself—which, physically, you weren’t—and you couldn’t decide what words or sounds would come from you next. You held onto Joel tighter.

His cock plunged in and out at a dizzying pace. He didn’t slow when he saw your tears, but they did beckon him in.

Joel cupped your face in a sly, patronizing way. Smiling.

“You’re scared to feel good. That’s what’s holdin’ ya back,” he said gently, as if it was the most obvious thing.

His thumb brushed your cheek just as he bottomed out, and your body convulsed. You cried some more, wanting to push him out completely, but the feeling was oddly stimulating, too. Joel went on to catch every tear that crawled down your face, and he wiped each one away. He got a half-crazed look in his eye, and he smiled again.

Then he stuck his thumb in his mouth and sucked.

He was fucking you, and he was tasting your tears.

You’d never seen anything more disturbing in your life but were forced to hide your aversion as Joel continued.

“Pussy’s all wet. Soakin’ me just like these pretty little tears. That must mean she likes me, darlin’. She likes it.”

“But I—” you started, breath catching on a particularly hard thrust. “—I’m still hurtin’. You— you’re hurtin’ me.”

Perhaps an appeal to his pathos would slow him down. Get him to stop, or at least quit eating your fucking tears.

Joel’s tongue would lick you occasionally when a fresh stream trickled down. He did it again, even while you writhed in pain. He grabbed your face, and he groaned when your walls clenched involuntarily around his length.

“It’s all— all in your head, honey. You want this. Your cunt wouldn’t be half as soaked as it is, and you wouldn’t be cryin’ with pleasure if you didn’t need it as badly as me. You’re just…scared to feel good, is all it is. Let go of that.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing—and were equally dismayed to find that your wet, achy cunt was making noises beneath Joel’s thrusts so obscene you would’ve sobbed harder to know it was you who was making them. Slowly, sluggishly you pushed at his chest.

“I ain’t— ain’t scared, Joel. I don’t like this,” you wailed.

“Sure you are. You feel guilty about how good this feels.”

Well, maybe there was some truth to—

“No.” You shook your head. “I-I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don—”

“Is that why you sent her over for me, sweetheart?”

You froze. Joel’s thrusts slowed down a little.

What was he talking about? Who was ‘she’?

As if reading your mind, Joel went on.

“Rachel. You sent her, didn’t you?”

You had no fucking clue what he was talking about. All you knew was that you loathed the girl and were trying your hardest not to succumb to the pleasure that was building with every second. Somehow, Joel’s gentler strokes made you throb and ache in the best way.

Your gaze flitted down to see his hips meeting yours relentlessly—cock plunging in and out at a grating rhythm and making a mess of your shared fluids. Sweat coated your skin; the bed continued to creak and groan.

“R-Rachel?” you whimpered back.

Joel’s gaze narrowed at you.

“Don’t act naïve, honey.”

Suddenly, he was stopping completely to push your legs over his shoulders. Your limbs were limp and gave no resistance. Then he resumed his soft, steady thrusts.

Your pussy squeezed him even tighter at this angle, and Joel swore under his breath. You whined at feeling it, too.

“After you two helped…fix that fence,” he grunted out, eyes focusing on yours. They were markedly more stern. “I was back home tendin’ to my arm. Rachel stopped by.”

You glanced to Joel’s bicep, which was bulging and still staining the sleeve of his shirt through the fabric. The red patch seemed to grow darker with every push of his hips, but maybe you were imagining things. Trying to distract yourself from the eyes that were boring into your skull.

“She must’ve heard I got hurt last night. Or somebody told her,” Joel went on, unfazed. His cock kept drilling, rendering you immobile on the bed underneath him. “Either way, she made it real clear…real fuckin’ quick that my injury wasn’t the only thing that brought her there.”

Gradually, heat rose to your cheeks.

No way had Rachel done what you thought she did. What you told her sucked, and wasn’t worth any of her time.

“She seemed to think you were gettin’—” Joel paused to drive his cock in hard, hitting your sweet spot as he did. “—preferential treatment of some kind, on account of what you do for me. She wanted the same treatment.”

Now your face was on fire.

That fucking idiot.

“W-What did you say?” you asked weakly. It wasn’t even your curiosity that was piqued—it was genuine fear for what Joel might’ve done had he been of a mind to be offended by her offer. What he was liable to do if he thought you were behind it. You swallowed hard and had no choice but to ignore the growing coil in your stomach.

“I said what any man in my position would’ve told her,” Joel sneered, and your feelings of trepidation only rose.

Against your will, the pleasure in your lower half stretched commensurate with your panic, and you found yourself trembling, teeth grinding together, and eyes itching to roll back in bliss and raw, unmitigated dread.

You weren’t sure if this was preparation to cum or to cry. By the look on Joel’s face, it appeared he craved both.

He gripped your chin in one hand and brought his face right down to yours. His hips didn’t withdraw again; he wedged his cock in deeper and deeper, until it felt as if something were ready to snap, and you cried out, shrill.

“Joel, please.”

“Wanna know what I said?”

“Y-Yes. And stop. Please, no deeper.”

His tip was hitting your cervix repeatedly. His knees were bracing themselves hard against the bed, like he couldn’t get far enough inside your soft, lithe body and the mewling sounds you made were invitations to go further.

They weren’t.

He knew they weren’t.

Still, Joel’s grin was wide as he pinched your face in his hand and grit his teeth like he was proud. Listen to me.

“I told Rachel to get fucked, that’s what,” he snarled. “But not by me. I only fuck women I’m in love with.”

Out of all the things he could’ve said, that was the worst.

Your face fell where he held it, and your eyes widened.

You wanted to shake your head, but his grip was tight.

“Joel.” At the same time, fear flooded you.

Nothing made sense like it should’ve. Nothing felt right, and that was ignoring the fact that you were being forced to fuck a man you so thoroughly despised.

Joel was watching your expressions. Waiting for you to process what he’d said, and when he saw that you had, he assumed an even more brutal pace with his thrusts. He carved at your insides with his cock, pleased as ever.

“Didn’t even…realize it until she approached me today,” he confessed, chuckling when he felt your walls clench—and at the same time, more tears welled up beneath him.

You were going to cry again, except now you were also on the brink of climax. Split down his cock and whining.

“You were made for me, sweetheart. No one’s ever…ever gonna touch what’s mine or get between me and you.”

Those words made you want to die.

Tears were spilling out, and you sobbed.

“You— you don’t mean that, Joel,” you cried.

“But I do, baby,” Joel teased. He pushed your legs even higher when he leaned down to kiss you, and you didn’t miss the way he licked at your tear-streaked skin after. He was sick. Repulsive. Shameless in what he was doing. “If someone like Rachel thinks she can drive a wedge between us, who’s to say there ain’t others who feel the same? Folks need to see who you fuckin’ belong to.”

With that, the man seemed to confirm your worst fear.

His gaze locked on yours, and he thumbed at your cheek one last time. Then he slid his touch down your body, to find your clit, and started rubbing mercilessly. Your hips bucked under his touch, throat working and begging him, hoarsely, stop touching me there, I don’t like it.

In truth, that place was about to send you over the edge. You didn’t like it; you loved it. You hated that you relished every second stretched over Joel’s length and how good it made you feel. You hated him. You hated him so much.

“I love you, honey,” Joel panted, lips grazing over yours.

One more push of his hips and your ankles were almost hovering by your ears. He had you folded in half for him.

And his circles on your clit weren’t stopping anytime soon. He jerked himself in and out of you, again and again, a little sloppier now with how much focus he was placing on that tiny, pulsing bud. Your stomach clenched.

Your walls bore down, and it was clear you didn’t have a say in the matter: you were tumbling toward climax again whether you liked it or not. Your whines turned to shrieks.

“I— I-I don’t love you, Joel,” you said through your teeth. “I fucking hate you. You’ll never mean…anything to me.”

Frankly, you didn’t give a single fuck whether he beat you for it later. He was damn near making you say it.

And rather than bristle with rage, Joel only beamed.

“You mean it, baby?”

Fucking psychopath.

You would’ve reached up and clawed at his face in desperation had your own not been cupped in his hand next. Gently and affectionately, he drew it closer to him.

You mean it?

“We’ll see how you feel when you’re carrying my child.”

Your eyes went wide. Joel’s grin grew bigger.

No.

No.

No, no, no, no, NO.

You weren’t thinking. You reared back and finally landed that taut, sharp blow across his face. The man didn’t flinch, even as you reached out again and raked your nails into his cheek—you fucking sick, sick bastard.

His skin bled. His lip split from where you’d hit him.

All the while, he kept that smile stretched wide.

He seemed to revel in your hatred, leaning in to tell you again: ‘Folks need to see who you fuckin’ belong to, hon.’

“And now they will,” he went on, tone taunting and low.

Joel made sure you felt him from then on. Ensured he shouldn’t budge a single inch and you wouldn’t either. Even as you grit your teeth, cursed him up and down, kept fighting tears—and losing—he wasn’t letting you off.

He would be getting you off, though.

With one more kiss to your neck and a quick series of circuits with his thumb, you were coming apart beneath him. You couldn’t help it. Every last nerve-ending in your body was shot, and you couldn’t breathe without sobbing through tears of misery and pleasure.

Like most every other moment you’d endured that night, your climax was against your will. Your walls pulsed and spasmed, and the fast circles on your clit nearly sent your vision blurring from how indescribably good it felt. All the while, inside, you were cursing Joel’s name and hating him more than you ever had before. Your orgasm triggered his own, and you wished you’d never been born—if this was how your life was to be spent, with the spray of a pervert’s seed painting your walls every night until you gave him a child, well…you would rather be dead.

Better yet, he should be dead.

The idea took root in your mind the second Joel had emptied the last spurt of warmth inside you and drew back with a crooked, sleepy grin. When he kissed you, and licked up the side of your face to collect whatever tears had trickled down since your orgasm had hit, the thought was cemented in your mind. Tired as you were yourself, you couldn’t show this on your face or betray a shred more of your outright contempt, or determination, than you were feeling right now. You let him kiss you. Let him lick you wherever he pleased, tell you he loved you and knew you would love him too, one day, as much as you would love his baby. His cock rutted deeper inside you with a low and sickening squelch, and by the time he’d rolled away, you’d made it a promise to yourself.

Whether it was today, tomorrow, or ten years from now—no matter how long it would take—Joel Miller was dead.

And that made you happy.

[sunderwight]

Shen Yuan with a Luo Binghe dakimakura is great but sometimes I stop and think about how a role reversal would have looked (i.e. Binghe as the reader who transmigrates in, Shen Yuan as the fictional character he was obsessing over) and oh my god. Fan Binghe who grew up with chronically online geek culture would have been next level in the absence of an actual, physical Shen Yuan/SQQ. Fan Binghe would have owned everything. He probably would have had to commission it all himself, either because the novel wasn't popular enough for the level of desired merch or because the mainstream commercially produced products were too cheap or flimsy or inaccurate for his specifications or probably both. Perfect hand fan recreations. Replica Xiu Ya (it's an actual sword) hanging on his wall. Fanart both done in a classical style (as in, 'what Shen Qingqiu might actually have hanging on his walls') as well as a variety of character portraits and erotic art zines. Printed and hand-bound copies of his favorite fanfics. Somewhere in China there's an amateur bookbinder who is making BANK off of this obsession, producing the most high level gorgeously bound copies of the filthiest smut and fluffiest hurt-comfort teacher/student fics.

Luo Binghe would be controversial in fandom because he is just as nitpicky and wank-y as Shen Yuan, with an extra dose of turning up in the comments sometimes to act like a jealous/possessive boyfriend accusing writers of being a little TOO lustful towards his unlikely waifu, but on the other hand he is rich and he will pay through goddamn nose for anything and everything that caters to his preferences. So a solid chunk of the fan creators just do things they think he'd like because they want in on the cash cow, while much of the rest of the fandom hates his guts because they feel like he hijacked everything with his own fanon and headcanons and obsessions. Shen Yuan isn't even that popular! Most of the rest of the fandom is kind of down on him as a cliche clueless danmei protagonist, they're all there for the score of blueballed love interests. Beautiful Liu Qingge and darkhorse Shang Qinghua and mysterious, tortured Yue Qingyuan and whatever the hell is going on with his evil doppelganger, Shen Jiu. Luo Binghe doesn't ever commission Shen Yuan with any of them, though! He's always solo, or maybe with a faceless tentacle monster or something!

It gets weird. There are probably Woman Buying Wonder Bread-esque memes about Binghe's highly specific kink commissions. On the other hand, Luo Binghe comes down harder than the actual artists on unsanctioned reposts because he commissioned Shen Yuan in that sexy lingerie fondling a really huge sword and it's not just for anyone to go around putting that up on whatever website they please!

He would own several dakimakura and they would arguably be more normal than a lot of the rest of his collection, is what I'm saying. He'd have them in different poses and seasonal outfits and versions that were acceptable for company and ones that had to get tucked into a drawer under the bed every morning because they were for Binghe's eyes only. And it wouldn't even just be the sexy ones, but also the ones where Shizun looks soft and fond and gentle and affectionate. The man was definitely working his way up to commissioning a lifelike Shen Yuan sex doll when the universe did absolutely everyone a favor and yeeted him into a transmigration scenario.

[chiscribbs]

I had an idea for a one-off Rise episode plot and just wanted to quickly sketch up some visuals for it.

The plot goes as follows: Donnie attempts to invent a cloning machine and, due to some kind of science-y mishap, ends up cloning himself...a lot. But there's a catch to this - the clones aren't exact copies of Donnie, they each possess just ONE of the various facets of his personality (i.e. brainy, broody, sarcastic, passionate, dramatic, mischievous, etc.) and a small portion of his mystic powers. Don tries his darnedest to keep the whole situation under wraps while he searches for a way to fix it, but some of the more rambunctious Donnies quickly escape and begin stirring up trouble in the Lair, so it doesn't stay a secret for very long. To make matters worse - the real Donnie starts to slowly disappear (something having to do with his existence being divided among the Donnies or blahblahblah fake science explanation). So, while he and the scientist Donnies continue to look for a way to reverse the cloning effect, his brothers and Co. set to work gathering up all the other Donnies so they can put them back where they belong and keep Donnie Prime™ from vanishing.

Hilarity, wholesomeness (and some mild angst) ensues.

(Note: I meant to include April in that second-to-last image, but ran out of room. Just know that she, Splinter, and probably Casey Jr. are all there, as well.)

[arottenlust]

cuz im pretty when i cry (the inspiration)

everything started with that edit. i don’t know what it was, but something about it was hard to look away from. ive rewatched it like a hundred times at this point. the song and the smile on his face inspired the first iteration of this story.

spoilers for the series below (kind of? It kinda fucks w the immersion i think. Idk its spoilerish to me)

one where youre desperate for any crumb of his affection, desperate to have your affections returned, and sukuna is willing and happy to enable your sickness. it grew from there to it instead being a misunderstanding of sorts- sukuna is showing his love and dedication the only way he knows how, with action instead of words. you, used to the very hot and cold and emotionally abusive environment you grew up in, don’t know how to pick up on this. it leads to you slowly falling apart more and more, miserably obsessed with keeping your place beside him, lashing out at any perceived obstacles, despite the fact that sukuna never planned to leave, would never want to. And, blinded by your seemingly easygoing nature and the fact that he quite enjoys your increasingly psychotic behavior, knowing that it stems from your love for him, sukuna doesn’t notice anything is amiss until the cracks begin to splinter and break you apart.

I didn’t plan to make you yandere esque, but it seems that the more twisted parts of me leaked into the story. Oops?

im not sure about including smut. I think i might but im still on the fence about that one…. I probably will tho

it has a happy ending. I didn’t want to give it one, I wanted it to just be a sad, horrifically desperate, story, but this route seemed a little more interesting to write. I think I’ll probably write a different version in the future, one where sukuna really doesn’t care.

the relationship is unhealthy in the sense that a well adjusted person wouldn’t frame their entire life around another person the way you do in this story. i.e youre a yandere. in your head, sukuna could keep you locked up and treat you like his dog-servant-thing, and you’d be happy because you’d be the sole object of his attention. (While u may be unaware) He feels the same in reverse, and he wouldn’t do that anyways, because he’s obsessed and he values you more than you value yourself. That’s why it’s unhealthy. And also because you tweak out if he talks to other people at all with anything on his face other than complete and utter indifference…. but hey! You’re working on it. Basically, It’s written um, romantically? Not super heart breaking and depressing. just putting that out there because I get really unbearable hurt when i read unhealthy -> very sad fics instead of unhealthy -> very in love and reciprocated fics

dykwim?

ugh. I’ll need to write a prequel or something. I want you all to see the way you go from normal and unattached to fighting the urge to stick cameras in his room and huff his underwear. You’re so weird. Stop fantasizing about killing the people he talks to, they dont even exist!

i originally planned to make it as gender neutral as i could but a lot of the scenarios don’t make sense if youre not fem, so that’s that. if that changes throughout the course of writing out the series, i shall let you all know.

also. should i make a playlist?

[annasofthe11thdimension]

Pictured: Loop being extremely normal as they lay in their shallow (homemade) grave as they meditate on existence and also if they have annoyed the Researcher enough THIS time for her to murder them and bury them alive.

(Spoilers - they did not annoy her even CLOSE to that much.)

And there is the required reverse image of Odile arriving - she's had a LONG day (i.e. previous loop), and due to this it will take ten minutes before she even acknowledges the shallow grave Loop is laying in, as she was distracted complaining about what Siffrin just did to annoy her.

----

I'd say there's context for all of that, because like...there IS context? Here's the link to the series of fics that HAS that context even! But also...even with context...can't say that it's going to make any of this less weird.

Mostly Odile is looping because due to Loop's wish the universe got rewritten to make Siffrin's repression and emotional issues (the ones bad enough to get him stuck in a time loop in the game) 'someone else's' problem...or at least that's Loop's best theory atm!

Regardless, context or not, I'm quite happy with how the pics came out, and figured I might as well post them here too.

[brandthefish]

A lil somethin somethin of @hugsarethugs Reverse AU! More about it underneath.

I know the colors aren't all accurate, but making everything black with my pens is VERY difficult. In an attempt to give Stone’s eyes that uncanny look, they're the only thing in this piece that uses paint pens! I also used graph paper for Stone’s speech bubble, as opposed to Robotnik's round one. I think it gives the impression that he's talking in a flatter tone but idrk. I also added some of my own stuff from when I draw Stone, i.e. the eyebrow cut and earrings!

[pocketsizedowls]

My Conspiracy Theory about Natlan's Pale Characters

I started playing Genshin Impact around the 3.7 update, right after the Interdarshan Championship. While I wasn't around during the initial spark of outrage against Sumeru due to the characters' overall lack of melanin, I eventually learned a lot about Sumeru's cultural inspirations through the SWANA and South Asian creators in the fandom. I think it's beautiful how we learn about each other's cultures through Genshin, and I believe the designers at Hoyoverse do lots of research to facilitate these conversations. This is why I think it's a shame that Natlan, which features rich Indigenous cultures in the Americas, Africa, and Pacific Islands, features primarily pale characters AGAIN.

While it's possible that through the art, story, and fashion of Natlan we will once again learn about the diverse cultures of Indigenous Americas, West Africa, and the Pacific Islands, I don't think it's enough. Considering a lot of these cultures take pride in their skin color and bodies through tattoos, body paint, and other markings/piercings, Hoyoverse is doing a disservice to today's Latin American, African, and Pacific islander fan base by making the majority of Natlan characters pale. To insensitively cherry-pick what traits of each culture to represent and what to discard is the definition of cultural appropriation and racism, which is such a shame because of how many discussions about culture that Genshin has started since 2020. As a Chinese American player, I'm especially disappointed that the company who educated so many people about my culture is failing my brown and Black friends to such a spectacular degree.

Many people have come up with excuses such as it's just skin, it's just a game, Hoyoverse is a Chinese company so what do you expect, Latin America also has white people, etc. I won't bother debunking these myths because there are plenty of people doing this labor already, but what I do want to bring people's attention to is the fact that many Natlan characters were most likely designed with darker skin in mind. Through fanmade recolorings (here's an example), I noticed that Mualani and Kachina's tan lines and skin details look more pronounced with darker skin, while Xilonen looks more mature and Kinich looks more brooding. Having studied studio art during undergrad, I cannot unsee these intentional artistic decisions and cannot shake the possibility that the researchers and character designers of Hoyoverse were forced by higherups to whitewash everyone at the very last minute. If this is true, I hope Hoyoverse will find some way to reverse their decision or turn a new leaf in the future. Considering many other Chinese games like Reverse: 1999 and Dislyte already have diverse representation and melanated characters, Hoyoverse should find no problem following their lead.

As of right now (i.e. 4.8 update), Genshin players from all over the world are expressing their dissatisfaction with Hoyoverse through boycotts, review bombing, and posting on social media. The Chinese fanbase - Hoyoverse's primary audience - is especially vocal and organized about their efforts, which means if Hoyoverse doesn't notice now, they will notice soon. Despite how much we like using Genshin as an escape from real life, it's important to recognize how insidious the consequences of erasing melanated characters can be. Anti-Blackness and colorism harm people on the daily, which is why we must speak up when a company as big and influential as Hoyoverse is doing the harming.

Thanks for reading! Here are some related threads from X, formally known as Twitter:

Petition to "Stop Cultural Appropriation and Whitewashing in MiHoYo Games"

Valeria Rodriguez, i.e. Surcrose's English VA's thoughts on Natlan

Natlan Characters Look Better with a Dark Skintone

Kaveh rerunning in 4.8 is a ploy for WHAT!?!?!?

We Should All Email Hoyoverse

Official Account for HYV Boycott

[fanfictionlibrary01]

AO3 Data Scraped for AI Training Dataset

What is happening, and what you can do. Check for potential edits with additions at the end of the post!

What is happening? What do we know?

A user going by "nyuuzyou" on the HuggingFace platform uploaded a dataset a few days ago - containing scraped content from AO3. HuggingFace is a very popular platform and widely used for sharing machine learning and AI models/datasets. The scraped dataset includes fics, fanart, and other fanworks - all taken without permission and intended for use in training gen AI models. You can find more information in this Reddit post.

This dataset is one of several compiled from various websites—at least seven in total. While two datasets have been removed, the AO3 one was only disabled on HuggingFace. This means that it’s not downloadable at the moment but still visible. It may also return if takedown efforts end up being challenged/reversed by that user.

Key Details

Scope: On AO3, all content with work IDs between 1 and 63,200,000 has been targeted. The work ID is the number at the end of a work's URL — for example, in https://archiveofourown.org/works/12345678, 12345678 is the work ID. You can find it by simply opening the work and checking the URL in your browser’s address bar. So, if your work falls in that range and is publicly accessible (i.e., not locked and open to everyone, including guests), it’s mostly likely included in the dataset. This dataset is currently disabled on HuggingFace, but that doesn't mean it's gone. It's only a temporary takedown as of now.

Takedown notices have been issued, but this user has also uploaded the dataset to other sites after backlash and partial removal.

There are talks in the discussion forums of potentially moving this dataset to Telegram, torrents, and/or other private channels.

HuggingFace AO3 dataset page

Other distributed sites listed here (as per a Reddit comment)

Currently deleted from ModelScope

What can you do?

Should the dataset return again and you see that your work was affected: file your own DMCA or copyright takedown notice. The uploader, in their own words, "has not agreed to take down the entire repo. At this time, the scraper has agreed with taking down art from the person who owns the copyright. That means each of you will need to request a takedown."

Instructions and a sample CSV template to list your work IDs for removal are provided in this guide. You can find more details in this announcement by PaperDemon.

Lock your works! It would limit visibility to registered users only, and is a very good step to prevent scraping or unauthorized use. To lock all your works on AO3, go to “My Works,” click “Edit Works,” and select all. Then click “Edit” and check the box labeled “Only show to registered users.” Scroll down and click “Update All Works” to apply the change.

⚠️ | Final Notes:

This user has so far shown no signs of stopping and is continuing to redistribute the data across multiple sites, even after numerous takedown requests (read more here). So, we can only recommend to be cautious and beware, lock your works, feel free to make use of takedown notices if you're unfortunately affected, and spread the word to fellow creators.

Follow up on this and get the latest updated in the Fanfic Communities Network (FCN) Discord Server!

If you have more information regarding this - e.g. if works from other sites are affected too - please reach out to us in the FCN!!

Edit (2025-04-26):

The user who has scraped the works has, upon request by another person, posted a way to convert ao3 json to markdown:

https://huggingface.co/datasets/nyuuzyou/archiveofourown/discussions/170

https://gist.github.com/nyuuzyou/b2f83669ad80a22e435728245ebcdf9f

This shows us that nyuuzyou continues to show no signs of taking down the scraped works.

Edit (2025-04-28):

A user warned that even archive-locked AO3 fics were included in a scraped dataset (most likely taken while the scraper was logged in, before they were banned or switched to public-only access). Some public works were missed as well:

https://huggingface.co/datasets/nyuuzyou/archiveofourown/discussions/213#680fcdb76d9e022324a70cf1

Edit (2025-05-03):

Hey everybody, this is a bit late, but the AO3 dataset has been permanently removed from HuggingFace: https://huggingface.co/datasets/nyuuzyou/archiveofourown. While this unfortunately doesn’t prevent it from being shared elsewhere (like torrents) nor does it guarantee any deletion of past downloads and whatnot, having it taken down from a major platform like HF is still a significant step forward. (There is more info about other sites on PaperDemon.)

So please don’t be disheartened—every action counts, and this shows that pushing back and filing DMCAs and copyright notices as appropriate does make a difference. We’ll certainly keep an eye out for more info and post updates here, but thank you again to everyone who helped report, spread the word, or supported the effort. Keep reading, keep writing. ♥️

[acesw]

Disabled Characters in Reverse: 1999 - Part 3

Welcome to the final installment of this list of the game's disabled characters (for now), and we are ending it with the most interesting of them: the neurodivergent characters!

These characters are particularly special since a lot of them are mainly speculated, but they draw heavy parallels to their respective conditions that they had to be taken note of.

Now because there are so many characters, they became an entire category of their own instead of being lumped with the previous post, and this became undoubtedly one of the longest texts I've written down among most of the analysis posts I've made for this game.

I hope that you enjoy reading this final piece, let's get started.

Autism: 37, Horropedia, Melania, Balloon Party, Avgust

All of these characters are incredibly similar to each other, and yet they all have their share differences. For example, both Horropedia and 37 are characters that embody one of the main stereotypes about autism: Incredibly intelligent characters who fixate on specific subjects. 37’s focus is on mathematics, while Horropedia’s is the horror genre. Even their personalities are quite similar: arrogant yet kind and understanding people.

They lace their speech with associations to their topic of interest, and will infodump about it unprompted. The two of them also struggle to pick up social cues, nor can tell if the information they’re sharing is unsolicited because the information is normal to themselves.

However, the difference between them in this is that Horropedia is more carefree about it, whilst 37 is more self-aware about the fact that she can’t come to a mutual understanding with others.

The rest of the characters here also share these traits, but they all stand out in their own ways:

Melania’s intricate way of making plans tends to be in the form of academic exams. These tend to be her greatest motivator when it comes to doing work, and gets easily frustrated when having to change them. She also has a set routine that she gets easily surprised by sudden interruptions.

Balloon Party’s speech is found to be unconventional (i.e. the speech impediment from earlier, the tone of her voice is found to be naturally flat) and is paired with word association and echolalia.

Avgust has a unique understanding of the world around him, with him associating everything and everyone with more innocent concepts. (e.g. his father’s death is often referred to as him “sleeping in the mines”) None of these mean that he doesn’t understand things like death as what they are, only that he’s very young among the cast and has been raised in a healthy environment that allows him to continue thinking this way for a bit longer.

ADHD: Regulus & Eagle

With Regulus, it’s more of a headcanon than it is backed by evidence, but the main points that can be found for her are her restlessness, lacking attention span, and her impulsivity. They’re common aspects (hyperactive) in ADHD, and thus they aren’t exactly conclusive.

But I also found that Regulus also tends to bring her interests to light when navigating through conversations, and this with the reasons mentioned above makes me personally believe that Regulus does not just strictly have ADHD, but still overall neurodivergent.

Eagle seems to have the inattentive type of ADHD. A more established indicator of her likely having it is through her anecdote, where she was said to have had some sort of attention-deficit. In that anecdote, Eagle mainly acts on her own impulses such as jumping to try to find the missing boy scout, and even helping X if it meant that it progressed her mission.

She struggles to take rejection and constantly tries to prove herself to be able to gain the acceptance she’s looking for. It made me believe that she has Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria. (RSD)

While these alone aren’t conclusive either, they still give me enough reason to believe that Eagle could be implied to be neurodivergent too.

AuDHD (Autism + ADHD): Vertin, Marcus, AliEn T

From the earlier points, we find that some of the mixed traits that make for auDHD are found in Vertin, Marcus, and AliEn T. All three of them are quite emotional (even Vertin in spite of her stoicism) and impulsive people, where they tend to jump into action when they have a rough plan set in mind. They also have their own interests (wildlife, reading, Earth) and tend to get absorbed into their own thoughts quite often. Because of the latter, they tend to lead themselves into executive dysfunction. Some things about them differ, however.

Starting with Vertin, most of the “obvious” signs are present in her childhood, where she was restless and curious of the world beyond SPDM, making it difficult for her to focus in school. Yet, she still kept up with topics that interested her, going as far as skipping classes to learn in her own way.

She has gotten punished often for her “defiance,” and ended up being radicalized by it and by the trauma she faced in Chapter 3. Currently, she masks quite heavily to a degree, leaving her main indicators to be her tactile tendencies (i.e. touching things and others out of curiosity) and her becoming absorbed to her own thoughts.

Meanwhile, Marcus is an incredibly anxious person. She often relied on someone like Hofmann to socialize with others and make decisions for her since she struggled greatly in that aspect. She can be easily upset by things and even by her own overthinking, taking rejection quite poorly before resorting to immediately coming up with ways to resolve it.

She often retreats back to reading to be able to ground herself from any stress. But now with everything that’s happened, Marcus has begun working on herself and mustering the courage to be able to push her limits independently.

We’re not entirely sure about how AliEn T’s home society is structured, but it can be argued that his and our societies tend to parallel each other. For example, AliEn T is seen as a bit eccentric to his kind like the regional manager and co-workers because of him being emotionally prone and being very fixated on the Earth. (which his society collectively avoids)

A lot of his notes about his home in the anecdote imply that in his home society, they have their equivalent of some of the struggles found in the neurodivergent experience, which is why he and Officer Williams in the anecdote could empathize with each other.

Others / Related but non-diagnostic: Mesmer Jr., Isolde, Pickles, Kaalaa Baunaa, Tooth Fairy, Blonney

As I explained in the previous post, Mesmer Jr. and Isolde both greatly suffer from conditions that particularly stem from their trauma and subsequent C-PTSD.

Again, Mesmer Jr. is heavily hinted to have OCD, while Isolde has many disorders linked to C-PTSD. (formerly named as "hysteria") Due to the nature of their respective conditions, they both deserve a place here in this list.

It can be assumed that Pickles is neurodivergent due to him being nicknamed as an “indigo pup.” While this might be related to his arcane skill, the nickname is also intriguing because it's like the term “indigo children.” 

“Indigo children” are classified as those who are incredibly intelligent and possess special talents or powers according to the New Age concept. However, this classification is closely associated with neurodivergence due to the similar descriptions.

Meanwhile, Kaalaa Baunaa, Tooth Fairy, and Blonney have shared stories in which they've had to maintain some form of distance towards their arcanist identities due to the hostile nature of their environments. They embraced it as part of themselves in the end, though.

Kaalaa Baunaa has been an avid researcher ever since she was young, and enjoys maintaining punctuality through routines. However, she had been often discriminated against in her initial workplace, where her arcanist identity had been picked out first before taking her research in consideration; even her research had been disregarded due to the “unconventional” methods that she applied to conduct them.

It can be considered a familiar feeling among neurodivergent people and it is incredibly frustrating when it happens. For KB, it had gotten bad to the point of her (and Kumar) getting kicked out of their institution, but it never stopped either of them from continuing to do their work.

Tooth Fairy and Blonney both grew up in mixed societies, where they had to force themselves to conform to be able to be accepted in both human and arcanist social spaces.

Tooth Fairy, while achieving this balance in her college years, had never been treated as an equal by either side due to both her arcanist identity and frequency to interact with humans. She was bullied for it and was even taken advantage of when she made the medicine in her character story. These experiences led her to accept her own identity and eventually stop overtly conforming to both societies.

Blonney meanwhile moved to a predominantly human society, where she greatly conformed to human ideals and trends to “fit in” with the humans. But she was still off-handedly discriminated against due to simply just being an arcanist. She tried really hard to suppress herself, to the point that she dimmed her own “light” and was unable to use her personalized arcane skill. But when she came back to Green Lake, her mask slowly fell apart, and then it reignited her passion, which allowed her to begin accepting herself again.

Honorable Mentions

Sonetto, Matilda, Sotheby, Ezra, Jessica - Autism (mainly credited from: @/H0LOdm on twt)

While these are mainly headcanon, some of these characters here do display neurodivergent traits in their own ways, most especially the latter 3 of these characters here. They all struggle to pick up social cues and tend to struggle in (conventionally) socializing/empathizing with others.

Sotheby and Jessica in particular both lace their language using their interests and the environment they grew up in. Ezra also uses his interests in fungi as a conversation starter with others, eager to see any mushrooms that might be potentially found anywhere.

Final Notes and Thanks

When I started writing these down I didn't really think much of it outside of the fact that there were so many characters who were particularly neurodivergent, which then further extended to the rest of the disabled characters as well. I tried my best to word these as respectfully as I can, and that I hope people could find fun in reading these as much as I did writing them.

I give my acknowledgements to these people for their help and support for the creation of list in entirety: Jager, Lupjo, Reg, Bee ( @e-0timely ) , Abyss ( @abyss-idiot ), and Tokki

Considering the nature of this list, I want to say that are non-conclusive and can be interpreted in any way you want. As I said in my previous version of this post, "...Every experience is different, and I think these characters here openly show that."

Feel free to add your own insights, corrections, and even your own headcanons here. Thanks for reading, and have the two links to the first two lists down here.

Physically Disabled Characters Psychologically Disabled Characters

[impactedfates]

Love In Different Shapes - Various HSR Boys x GN! Reader

★ Summary: Your lover loves to show that they love you, however some of their methods to do so, aren't something you'd expect - i.e HSR Boys and their love languages (but it's not your typical love language)

☆ Characters Included (Separate): Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Blade, Welt, Luka, Sampo, Gepard, Loucha + bonus character

★ Genre/Trope: Romantic + Crack (?)

☆ Warnings: None

★ Extra: Just had random thoughts about HSR characters love language and decided to write about what theirs is in my opinion - just not your typical ones. // Not proof read - we die like Himeko // There's a HSR Girl version as well! Right here.

Dan Heng shows his love unintentionally by staring at you. Just full on staring. I mean, I'm sure most of us agree that Dan Heng is a man of few words, but I feel like you could be getting up to get water and you'll come back to Dan Heng staring at you. You might think 'oh, he wants me back in bed'

no.

He's just staring very lovingly at you, as creepy as it is. He wants to make sure he sees you. He can't explain why it gives him comfort to just look at you or why he decides to show that he cares about you this way. But he does! It's his way of saying he cares, and although not many may see it as him showing his love to you. Both you and him know what it means when he decides to look at you for more then 5 minutes without talking.

Somehow, Jing Yuans love language consists of making sure you aren't able to do your work. Somehow his love language is doing everything in his power to get you to pay attention to him.

You know those videos of cats knocking over a cup? That's him, and all he wants is your attention. He loves seeing what ways make you look at him, even for a split second. Would it be a surprise kiss? Softly rubbing your arm up and down? Knocking over an expensive vase??

He wants to find everyway to ensure you look at him with those pretty eyes, and as confusing as this love language may be to others. He truly does just enjoy messing with you.

Biting. I will not elaborate (Well I am but-)

Blade just bites you. Not harshly, just nibbles. You could just be doing some work, and your neck or shoulder are exposed, he'd just come up to you and just.

Nom.

You have so many bite makes because of him, but he doesn't care. He's at work often and as much as I'm sure he loves kissing you. He loves biting you playfully just as much. The amount of bite marks around your body that keeps multiplying is just a show of his love to you.

Welt shows his love by drawing you. He loves sketching you doing whatever and showing you. He enjoys looking at your face and capturing every detail with a stroke of a pencil. He probably has a sketch book dedicated to drawings of you, but most are ripped out as you stick it on your wall.

If you offered to model for Welt he'd be more then happy and ensures to be extra careful - not like he wasn't before but he wants to capture every single detail there is that he sees. And honestly? If you were to draw your own drawing of him then he'd be so happy. It's stuck on his wall, it's his wallpaper and it'll even by his profile picture for awhile.

Luka shows off. He's one of the guys that's like

"This is for you babe!"

But he fails, miserably even. He's usual so good at showing off, but when he tries to show off to you to show you how much he absolutely adores you he fails.

Every.

Single.

T i m e.

It's okay though, you get the gesture. You understand what he's trying to do, even after the countless fails. He wants to be successful even once as he feels if he continues failing you won't love him anymore.

You do though, you understand. And honestly? It's kinda cute how hard he tries trying to score a basket just to show you he loves you.

Reverse scamming (credits to my friend for this idea :D)

Sampo loves scamming others, but you? You're no exception sadly. On the other hand, how he scams you isn't what you'd think. He'd maybe scam you until getting what YOU want. Now what HE wants. Sometimes he may even scam you to get just a simple kiss or a hug.

You try to tell him if he wants a kiss or a hug he can just ask, but he finds it more fun this way. And you may even try to convince him to stop "scamming" you into getting the things you want, but he also refuses.

We all know Gepard is trying to garden and failing (I think) right? So what does everyone think of getting a half wilted flower from this man :D

He tries I swear, he just cannot do it correctly. You may even just get a tomato as an anniversary gift as he just couldn't take care of the flowers he was trying to grow for you. Bro may be more upset with being unable to grow you the best flower then he is about not catching Sampo.

He keeps trying and failing but, he still gives it to you in hopes you'll accept it! You will right? Even if he's given you a potato that's about to go bad?

Loucha can and will pat your head to show how much he loves you. As a merchant and a doctor, he doesn't necessarily have the time to sit down and relax, and even so. He doesn't seem like the type to want to. However he doesn't want his partner to feel neglected either, so to sure that he does love you so you don't forget. He pats your head with a small smile.

It doesn't even matter if your taller then him, he'll find a way to pat your head, whether it be to punch you in the stomach so you can bend over, pull you down by your collar or even just climbing onto his coffin to just pat your head a few times. He will pat that head of yours so you're reminded he still loves you despite his schedule.

Dr Ratio definitely info dumps to show his love. I don't even know much about this man yet but I know for a fact that he'd be casually talking about the history of something or in general just anything he knows whilst you two are eating.

He'd say something that's so jaw-dropping and continue eating and I love him for that. He seems sweet honestly, and if you want to info dump about anything you like? He listens with such intent, asks questions and remembers every word. I love him so much (I know he isn't out yet but-)

Hehehe. I spent a good bit rambling with my friend about certain HSR characters "unusual" love language and decided to write one! It's not proof read as most of the time, my rambles aren't proof read. But as always, if I messed some spelling or grammar up. Inform me and I'll fix it :D