#if he was the main character that’s how it would go but they’re all the main characters and I feel like these storylines more closely

[cursedcola]

Prompt: “I Lived Bitch” <- You send them a text message of an an image. Said image is a headshot of you with bandages around your head, a couple of bruises on your face, and the staple cheeky peace sign to tie it all together. Context Varies. Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Overblot Homies Format: TEXT.IMG + Bullets.

Parts: (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil) (Here) , (Vil, Idia, Malleus) Masterlist: Link A/N: Saw some of these floating around and thought the text format would be good for some mixed scenarios <3. Sorry they’re not all in one. Tumblr has a picture limit. Edit: HUZZAH I have discovered a way to put more images. Less parts hehe.

A gradual spiral. Riddle isn’t one to dwell until order is disrupted. He initially thinks you’re off causing mischief with Ace and Deuce - already preparing for whatever comes.

When they arrive on their own, knowing nothing about you? He’s uncomfortable. When Grim struts in on his own, he’s concerned. When Crewel stops him saying that you missed half your classes and didn’t have any absentee excuse? He’s panicking.

The controlled type of panic where it feels like that first month of Sophomore year all over again. Grim’s already earned a collar. How could he not know where his prefect is? The Headmaster is irresponsible surely, but you were a good student. Riddle wouldn’t partner with someone unable to uphold their basic responsibilities.

Riddle was one hour short of marching to Crowley’s office, because perhaps it was STYX scenario again and he wasn’t having a repetition.

You finally respond when he’s desperately trying to study - he wasn’t going to sacrifice his schedule.

Which gets forgotten regardless. He leaves the books abandoned (not that he could get past one page without drifting) and speed walks to the clinic. That anxious red poking out from his collar, heels smacking against marble. It’s rare for him to ever walk with his head in a screen - such a thing is rude, but his eyes are glued as he turns each corner.

He’s not happy you chose to downplay the situation. Considering his history with medicinal magic, Riddle’s already bombarding the nurse for your medical report once he enters. Then he sits silently at your bedside, flipping through the clipped papers. The occasional scoff turns to a tick in his jaw when reading the incident report.

Cave in of the Ramshackle stairwell? Looks like he’s having a word with the Headmaster after all.

Unlike Riddle, there’s an instant agitation with this one. Call it the princely charm of wanting instant responses.

Also. You don’t ignore him for silly reasons. When you say that you’re meeting him somewhere, you do. Same for Leona. He might gripe but he always shows up.

So he doesn’t need to wait. There’s already a nagging feeling in his stomach after the first twenty minutes pass.

He’s logical. Knows all your spots. Knows your schedule and would honestly even text Azul (if you’re working that day). Pain in the ass, but he’ll do it.

So first instinct is to do a play-by-play of the past week in his head. Look for any reason you might be pissed or too ‘busy’ to hold your plans. When he comes up empty, he’ll strut up to the little frosh table. Stir some anxiety with a glare or whatever, which gets serious when no one has any idea where you’re at. Not even the little weasel.

Any longer and he might’ve gone to Rook. We all know how Leona feels about Rook, but he’s the best when it comes to tabbing someone.

Your text comes during Spelldrive practice. He’s standing on his broom, looking over the field, arms crossed and agitated with the TWST equivalent of a bluetooth headset in his ear.

Dips out so fast. 0mph to roughly 50 after waving Ruggie to finish without him. Flies right out the practice court, overhead main campus, and outside the infirmary. Not in the mood to deal with the nurse or any of that crap. Comes in through the window.

Pissed. Pissed he didn’t think to check here, and pissed he should’ve had to. Did you learn nothing from the Spelldrive tournament? Broomwork isn’t easy, and not meant for two people unless someone with strong magic can support it.

Wants to know which idiot let you fall, but he’s been on edge all day. He can grill it out of you later. Scoot over and make room, he’s owed his mid-day nap. No. He’s not sleeping in a free bed. The scent of antibacterial spray is shanking his nose, so he needs yours to mask it.

In truth he is NOT okay. He’s very pissed and doesn’t sleep a wink. How could he? Pulls the curtain around your bed and flops over you with his tail curled around your leg. Hurts? Tough luck. Don’t pull a stunt like that ever again.

Azul is tweaking out - just so you know. First out of panic and then for the little sweettalk - even if he asked for it

Already used to you getting knocked over the head - Floyd's a bit too rough for his liking when swinging ya around, but what can he do?

Amidst packing up his belongings in a rush, the VIP lounge's empty so he can skidadle along like he normally would when alone. The moment the picture loads, he's honestly glad you texted vs. video call since it's easier to feign that cocky attitude of his via message.

Despite sassing you about the twins - he's a bit miffed you'd think for a moment he isn't coming himself. If anything to get the story from word-of-mouth vs. whatever Jade's going to relay.

Speaking of, oh look - one of the lounge couches is already set up to accommodate one injured prefect. A light meal and some tea too. Floyd's itching for a squeeze, but the most you get is a rough toss on the cushion before Azul's got him in one of those rare gridlocks where Floyd backs down. Did you think he couldn't? Octopi are freaking strong.

Rather than be outwardly miffed, he's already regained his composure during his walk to the infirmary.

So...you fell while trying to get an overhead shot of campus for the newspaper? And you were just...given access? To one of the high towers? You. A student without a broom or ability to cast a safeguard charm.

....Hmm. Someone gave you access? Curious. Only Professors are allowed to hand out access passes. Sounds a bit 'fishy' but he's satisfied. Looks like Floyd might get to play after all.

....oh he's not mad, he's just disappointed (ouch)

He's too busy to sit and worry over where you're at. Jamil trust (ed) that as the only other mildly-sane person at this school, you'd make educated decisions

Okay. That's a lie. You're not sane, but he accepted as much when he begrudgingly fell for said insanity...damn hearts and their lack of logic

Honestly? He was shocked you put him as an emergency contact. Flattered even. Until the simmering frustration began to boil - because of course you went of campus. Of course you took the trolly down to the Isle shops, and of course you got hit by a car trying to stop Grim from running across the street (he saw a sushi shop and bolted).

Of course Jamil can't just go on his own. He has to finish his tasks, get permission, and using the carpet means telling Kalim. Which will then lead to him getting worked up and lo behold it is an event now.

At least using the Al Asim name gets the permission granted without a fuss...Jamil just wants to see that you're okay in person for himself...and also lay into you for being reckless. No holding back.

Hah. Haha. -_-

Don't try getting out of this by acting cute with the little 'i love you' and grabby hands once he gets there. He's not that soft-hearted...yet. Jamil has his principles.

Kalim might jump off and barrel in past medical professionals without thinking twice. Jamil will do his casual glance-over, speak with the nurses, and pull up a chair once he realizes you won't be let go until morning. Great. Now it's just you three stuck in a small hospital room (Kalim got ya booted up to a private stay) as some strange impromptu sleepover.

Just...give him a bit. Wait for Kalim to pass out on the spare cot and then he'll stop looking so emotionally repressed. Believe it or not, he'd trade places with you in a heartbeat if he could.

Not because he feels obligated, but because getting the 'hey, your partner is off in a clinic miles away' call during his normal schedule was a heart attack Jamil wasn't prepped for.

He thought the worst news could be that you'd gone home without saying anything. Somehow? This was nearly on par. 90% on par.

[cautionwetspiralstaircase]

gonna be writing down some of my favourite bits from pili's out-of-character Q&A today ^^ here's him talking about his character's relationship with pangi and badboyhalo

(source: Dtowngato 22 Jan 2025 TALKING ABOUT MY CHARACTER The Realm SMP --- ( Main Account @/dtowncat ), around 1h9min)

Pili: Talking about Pangi and Pili... I feel like my character definitely senses that Pangi has some sort of, like, feelings (...) that aren’t actually mentioned directly. And he feels like- cause a lot of people are like “Why is Pili flirting with a million people when Pangi is there? Like he doesn’t see that Pangi is literally giving so many clues and things, and (...)”. That’s where the avoidant attachment thing goes through, because since he sees these other things (Pili flirting with everyone) as little silly games (...) and just being silly and whimsical... It’s like, when he’s with Pangi, he knows that Pangi may actually mean it. (...) And that’s where he gets like kinda- push him away, or whatever. 

It’s just like... complicated. So since he doesn’t really want that to happen, he doesn’t really actually want a romantic relationship- (...) that’s where he kinda starts pushing Pangi away. And I feel like a great example for this is that my character does not want deep emotions or attachments to anyone. To anyone at all. Even Pangi. And that’s why he hates him, in a way, and that’s why he calls him his weakness. Because for example, the reason why to this point I feel like my character has been more comfortable with Badboyhalo, telling him more secret things, being more open to him, is because I think my character and Badboyhalo both understand themselves very well in that aspect. And he also knows that Badboyhalo won’t actually get a deep attachment to him. Like if he dies, he knows Badboyhalo will be like “Aww, that’s sad” and then he’ll just move on with his life. Cause that’s kinda like his normal thing to do. He knows that if something happens and he has to ditch Badboyhalo, he won’t have some sort of explosive emotional reaction to it, and he won’t throw his life away, he’ll just keep going. Which I think that’s why right now my character and Badboyhalo are very close, even closer than Pangi and Pili. 

For example, on the first divorce arc, Pangi- it was also kind of a test, because Pili knew that he was gonna go fight people, that he may not come out alive. And he was trying to push him away so Pangi wouldn’t do something stupid to try and save him. (...) Because he knew that Badboyhalo wouldn’t do anything to save him. That’s the difference, okay? Because he knew that Pangi would be dumb enough to act emotionally and try to stop the fight or do something to stop it or like, if he died, he would go crazy. And I think Pangi proved my character’s point, which was- when he tried to push him away, he was like “Alright, that’s it, I’m killing everyone, I’m ending the world, and I’m ending myself”. Which my character really doesn’t like that sort of- thing. 

My character knows that he’s not a good person, he knows that he’s not done good things, he knows that sometimes he’s an asshole, and... he knows that he has insanely self-destructive tendencies. He just has this sort of thing where he keeps putting himself to suffer and suffer and suffer, and that’s part of how he is, all the time. And he knows that Pangi won’t take that well, and Pangi will be like “No, Pili! You don’t need to die! I’ll die if you die!” And that kinda rubs him the wrong way, which is also why he kinda has been more distant with Pangi I think. It’s just too complicated, really. It definitely hurts, cause he definitely knows that he has a weak spot for Pangi and vice versa, and they’re definitely some sort of like, platonic soulmates type of situation.

(chatter mentions his conversation with Pangi on Clown’s tower about not wanting Pangi to avenge him) Yeah. He’s just like, dude, I want to do this, and I’ve been doing this for so long, you don’t need to avenge me, you don’t need to go into this villain arc just because I wanted this thing. (...) That’s why nowadays he- I don’t know if you guys noticed, but my character barely tells any secrets to Pangi, and tells everything to Badboyhalo. Which is odd, cause I feel like technically Pangi and Pili were the closer ones, but it’s more like that kind of- avoidant attachment thing. That is just like pushing him away, in a way. So Pangi doesn’t get hurt, or get involved too much into it.

(chatter suggests that tr!Pili doesn’t like others showing too much emotion) I feel like it’s also a thing like, for example, with Clown, he knows that it’s one-sided, and he likes it being one-sided. Because he- it’s also this thing like, I don’t know how to translate it, but you get the love that you think you deserve. (...) So basically it’s just more like he feels like Pangi is too good for him, and he doesn’t deserve that type of good attention or things. And that’s why he’s always saying like “Oh you should move on with your life, you should find someone else that actually can give you what you probably deserve, because I’m not that person (...). Because I don’t have that sort of behaviour and I don’t have that sort of tendencies and I don’t have that sort of things”. 

(chatter asks how tr!Pili would react to Badboyhalo also becoming strongly attached to him) I feel like in the same way, it would definitely start rubbing him the wrong way.

(chatter suggests that he also pushes Pangi away and refuses to become attached because of his mental health) Yeah. Definitely that is true, I feel like my character has definitely suffered a lot and there’s a lotta traumas and things (...) inside. So I feel like he has repeated the cycle so many times, and (...) he doesn’t wanna keep repeating it anymore. He’s down to suffer and be in pain and whatever, be a masochist, just not that route when it implies other people are involved and (...) suffering because of him. 

(chatter suggests that Badboyhalo has more predictable reactions to secrets while there are more unknowns with Pangi, and more secrets that might cause Pangi to take immediate action) I don’t know. I don’t know how- Pangi is sometimes too chill about this. I think Pangi definitely has a lot of trust in Mocha (note: mocha is his character (the cat)'s name, although ofc everyone on the realm just uses "pili").

[elendsessor]

ngl i think its so important how the metaphor cast feels like a found family both in comparison to atlus’s/studio zero’s backlog and the general jrpg landscape

repeat after me: metaphor is not a megami tensei game.

this being said, there was definitely some influence because of the devs working on it, though this is due to the gaming landscape. save for indie titles, you’d be hard pressed to find a studio, especially one owned by a big company, to even be given the chance to make a new ip. atlus in particular has a history of financial flops, which is actually why the sega merger is so important. without sega, no matter how successful persona got, they would have died out in the 2000s/early 2010s. this is also why they lean on persona a lot more. of course, persona isn’t the only influence behind metaphor despite the big names having worked on modernsona, as some of its dna draws from traditional fantasy rpg tropes and digital devil saga. however, this has influenced how the game was approached on several levels, as diverting too much could have caused the game to flop. metaphor hinged most of its success based on studio recognition and marketing, and considering how persona is atlus’s cash cow, it needed to take every advantage it could get.

metaphor can definitively be best described as experiencing some first game syndrome pains + development hell complications, but in general, its plot and especially character dynamic writing seems to have been an exercise for the studio they couldn’t get while sticking to persona. no matter how you feel about the series, there’s no denying that, particularly with p3 onwards, it became a very mainstream-influenced anime rpg, filled with tropes and fanservice galore. only issue is how this alienates potential players. everything wrong with persona’s team writing is one reflected throughout the genre because it was made to fit that genre.

the anime rpg market is over saturated, the fandom reputation didn’t help, and to be honest, like many jrpgs in general, the party relationship falls into the trap of having minimal group chemistry outside of a shared goal, leaving them to not truly feel like a collective group of friends once the big bad goes down, especially if there’s a punching bag. as such, there seems to be plenty of reevaluation of how topics and characters are handled in order to attract a new player base turned off from the genre.

and that’s probably why i love the approach to metaphor’s main cast the most. while all end up having a shared goal aka we need to kill that fucking twink, they’re really initially brought together because they’re societal outcasts one way or another, then grow to like each other overtime due to exposure breaking down several barriers.

the biggest example for me is how heismay begins to shut down his perception of paripus after the eht ria arc, as its the first time he hears about what was actually going on the day his son was killed—there was an uprising from a tribe often forced into slavery and becoming lab rats, and unfortunately, an innocent bystander got caught up in it.

his relationship with basilio is really interesting in that regard tbh. there’s a growing respect once he and fidelio decide to help them out in defending other innocent kids caught up in a mess, and i think seeing him lose a loved one really put into perspective paripus aren’t inherently violent. sure, the magnus brothers were on louis’s side because at least fidelio believed might makes right, but having the courage to not abandon morals just to people please? takes a lot of guts.

that’s really where that respect starts to be gained even if it isn’t obvious. by the time the final day rolls around and they help hold the line? heismay actually being nice to basilio and even saving his life feels earned.

junah’s also really important. while initially from a shitty place and not holding sanctist beliefs or at least the extreme parts of it, given how she gets taken into a powerful family, finds success really easily despite her tribe, plus a lot of special treatment from every major group really gives her that unintentional superiority complex. she only goes along with will because they’re both from the resistance, initially treats him like an assistant, and one of the first things she says on the runner is denouncing how it isn’t up to her standards.

it’s another quiet background development in that it’s subtle, but she does end up challenging her worldview upon meeting eupha. being raised in an entirely different culture only to start seeing parallels in terms of faith being warped, causing unnecessary loss of life? that’s why she came to the conclusion she wants to help. this isn’t mentioning the follower ranks, furthering that understanding of how not everyone gets the same treatment as her because of things out of their control.

also noticed how everyone loses someone close and how at least one team member fills that same gap. extra bonus points for gallica because what’s this? a navi character that isn’t beating up on a single character and even then comes from a place of caring, praising those when they deserve it and showing worry when things don’t go as planned?

not a lot of games have this close knit relationship gained, usually only sticking to a couple characters liking one another and everyone liking the protagonist. it’s refreshing. the writing team deserves so many kudos for it it’s insane.

[sesamestreep]

it really is SUCH a shame that there’s no episode of TOS where the enterprise crew time jumps to Regency-era England or goes to a planet that modeled its culture on that era or something, because it would truly slap for every single main character. Like I don’t even have to explain why this would be awesome for Spock— Mr. I’ll-smash-a-computer-with-my-bare-hands-before-I’ll-admit-I’m-horny himself, king of repression, who basically recreated the famous Pride and Prejudice Hand Flex Scene™️ with his beloved Captain that one time, who meets a blind woman with a high tech gown that helps her “see” and LITERALLY tells her to give his compliments to her dressmaker, who mislead a woman once about his affections and tenderly promised to safeguard her reputation forever about it, who has the perfect angular features to be set off by a cravat—I mean, you get it, but then you’ve also got Kirk—handsome, affable, brave Naval captain who loves his crew more than himself, who falls in like deep profound love with every woman the plot throws at him—and then McCoy—cantankerous, sure, (ever heard of a grumpy/sunshine trope??) but with impeccable, downright old school manners towards women and, yeah, a doctor’s not that prestigious in Regency times, but for like a young lady in trouble who needs the protection of a man’s name or who just wants to piss off her stuffy aristocrat family by marrying “beneath” them, who could be better? If you throw Scotty in the mix, well, he’s Scottish, which [points at a whole subgenre of regency romance novels] is all he’d really need. I’m just saying they would have CLEANED UP, okay??

[embraceyourdestiny]

It’s soooo crazy that people truly believe nick’s real feelings are he wants to eat abi 😭 crazy as fuck you hear a guy say “you don’t care about me” and “easy pickings, right off the bone” in the same scene and yet focus on the second half while also conveniently forget he’s turning in to a RAVENOUS WEREWOLF. He’s being taken over by the wolf, who has an insatiable hunger because of the curse bestowed upon humanity after the actions of foolish, greedy humans. He’s the only one to transform in front of their (canon) crush, so it would make sense that the territorial, animal side would highten his uncertain, romantic feelings for abi even more and then become possessive because it doesn’t care about her feelings but nick’s feelings which the curse is amplifying and distorting through its hunger. take two seconds to think about it please. Nick is extremely insecure and was hiding his true feelings (the insecurity). That’s what we are supposed to gather from that scene. He was putting on an act of confidence but he truly believes abi, and based off what he says no one, doesn’t nor has ever cared about him. He thinks he doesn’t measure up. He thinks he has no worth because he doesn’t know his own worth. Nick is a very complicated guy and it’s so disappointing how people give the most surface analysis of him to this day, it’s a huge disservice. Remind me to never be cursed in front of any of y��all lest you think the monster inside me is speaking objective truth and y’all turn on me for it lol 😭

[apotelesmaa]

> looking for a tenma siblings relationship study

> ask the op if the study is actually about the tenmas or just treating saki like an accessory to tsukasa

> they don’t understand

> pull out an illustrated diagram explaining the difference

> they laugh and say “it’s a good relationship study sir”

> click the post

> it’s treating saki like an accessory to tsukasa

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

The Loudest Silence

YA contemporary

a newly Deaf-Hard of hearing girl moves across the country and starts a new school, struggling with navigating her disability and love for singing and lost friendships - determined to not make any new friends for the year she’s in Florida

and a boy struggling with family expectations and anxiety, after being made the fútbal captain even though he secretly ways to be on broadway, who quickly befriends her

bi & aroace-coded MCs

[ilovebeingaturtle]

i wanna rant about '87 krang so. here we gooooo i guess. i think '87 krang's backstory is actually incredibly interesting like??? how did he lose his previous body? (personally, i like to think that he did something wrong one day and was forcibly turned into the brain creature he is now and banished by his own kind. but hey that's just me) does his miss his old body?? can he devise a way to return to his old body or is it impossible? does his miss home? how complicated are his feelings towards his own species? yeah i know it was an 80s cartoon for kids and they didn't really have time to get into some characters backstories but it's still really interesting!!! YOU COULD DO SOME COOL CHARACTER STUFF WITH THIS!!!!!!! anyway. sorry for going off about krang in your inbox. i'm insane about shredder & krang

Never apology for going off about Krang I LOVE hearing your thoughts

[container-of-apple-juice]

Holy shit I'm looking up reviews for chapter 697-698 of Naruto and some of these are destroying me

“Soo gay T_T” too true bestie

“Fanfic vibes” I’m cryin just say gay

REAL

We all know their hands were touching symbolically through their blood, so I guess that cinches it /hj

BROKE-ARM MOUNTAIN

I’m fucking wheezing

[slttygeto]

SO, YOU GOT A BOYFRIEND? | GETO S.

synopsis: when watching a certain scary movie gives your husband, suguru, the perfect idea on how to ruin you.

c.w: p0rn with plot, fem!reader, reader is referred to as “good girl” “pretty girl”, mask kink (hehe<3), slight fear play, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, suguru talks you through it, praise kink, strength kink if you squint, im obsessed with suguru's arms, clit smack, multiple orgasms.

word count: 2,1k

note: i am BRICKED after writing this. happy halloween hehe.

ghostface suguru! ( @aurelianamu )

In a dimly lit room, at around 10PM—it was a bit cold outside, the perfect weather to snuggle up and watch some movies. Romance movies? No, you did that last week. Action movie? Eh, you were not in the mood for that—oh, Scream. Your thumb presses on the movie before you put the remote control down and walk towards the kitchen to grab some snacks.

“Sugu, I picked a movie!” you announce as you make your way out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and two drinks. Your husband marches down the stairs in a lazy manner, his long strands messily sticking out of his ponytail that he has to stop and tie it up again. He sees what movie you picked and he stands behind you on the couch.

“Scream?” he questions, hands resting on your shoulders.

“First movie, pretty iconic.”

“I don’t think it’s that scary though,” he doesn’t really say that he would rather watch something else, simply joins you on the couch and pulls you towards him with the bowl of popcorn resting on your lap.

The movie is indeed not that scary, you kept quoting some of the lines here and there, which earned you a chuckle from Suguru every time.

“No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I wanna be in the sequel,” you say in the same voice and attitude and your husband runs a hand through your hair.

“I think you’d easily outsmart him,” your husband is very supportive of you, but instead of making fun of his statement, your heart thrums in your chest when you picture Suguru in the ghostface mask.

“Really?” you look up at him through your eyelashes but Suguru is staring ahead and doesn’t notice the eyes you’re giving him.

“Yeah, they’re all pretty stupid—minus Sidney, I mean the fact that—“ your husband goes on a three minute ramble about the plot, how he appreciates the intelligence of the main character all while saying that the choice of the ghostface killers was nice. Unbeknownst to him, you were thinking of something else. Something far dirtier than intended.

“Baby,” you cut him off from his ramble and he hums in response.

“You’d be pretty hot as ghostface.” Suguru looks down on you when you say that and raises both eyebrows knowingly.

“Are you insinuating something?” To which you shrug your shoulders before staring back at the big screen in your living room, playing innocent.

“Just saying.”

You weren’t just saying, you knew exactly what you were doing. The next day, you’re sat on your bed folding laundry while watching the newest episode to your favorite podcast. You liked keeping your brain stimulated, and it distracted you from the fact that your husband was always gone for long hours during the day. But when you hear the keys rustling and the front door opening, you raise an eyebrow but don’t question it. Today’s mission must’ve been quick, you think to yourself.

“Welcome home!” you call out from your bedroom but don’t bother to get up, you knew he would come to your bedroom immediately so you keep your eyes on your computer and go back to folding the laundry.

A couple of minutes pass and Suguru doesn’t walk inside the bedroom, so you start getting a little suspicious and decide to go check on him.

“Sugu?” you walk out of the bedroom and notice how the lights downstairs are turned off. You remember leaving them on for him, so he must’ve turned them off on his way upstairs—but where was he?

“Baby, are you in the shower?” the lights in the bathroom were on but the door was closed. Suguru never walked to the bathroom first without greeting you—unless something was wrong. You put your hand on the door handle, but before you could twist the knob, a warm and rough hand covers your mouth and your blood runs cold when you’re being pulled into a different room.

You don’t have time to scream or panic, because when you’re being pinned to the wall by a rather familiar set of hands, your eyes almost bulge out of your skull when you notice the ghostface mask. You’re breathing heavily, cheeks flushed but there’s no sign of panic because you know who this is—the dragon tattoo peeking out of his shirt and the wedding band on his ring finger are enough evidence.

“Do you like scary movies?” Suguru’s voice sounds silky smooth, but the flirting connotation to it has your heart leaping out of your chest.

“Sugu—“

“Wrong,” he pins both hands above your head and his body is so close to yours that you feel the heat radiating off of it. “Let’s try again, I know my girl is smart.”

Your breath is caught in your throat, but you play along and nod sheepishly.

“Do you like scary movies?”

“Mhm,”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He traces a finger over your cheek, and the arousal slowly starts pooling between your legs.

“Hm, I don’t know,” you reply in a similar flirtatious tone, nervousness long gone. The realization that you didn’t have to explicitly tell your husband about the ghostface mask and him buying it for your pleasure made all of this very thrilling.

“You have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“Hm, Halloween,” you stick to the same script of the movie, you buck your hips towards him but he pushes a knee between your legs and pins you again to the wall. “Y’know, the one with the guy with the white mask that walks around and stalks baby sitters?”

“Yeah,” Suguru breathes out and takes in how gorgeous you look like this—how he should’ve thought of doing this a long time ago. Your eyes were blown out with lust, chest heaving in excitement all while allowing him to play with you like this. He could feel his pants tighten and his cock was slowly getting hard from knowing exactly what was coming.

“What’s yours?” you bring him out of his thoughts and although you can’t see his face, you know that he was giving you that signature charming smile that always won over your heart.

“Guess.” He purrs out and you subconsciously start grinding against his knee before giving him a reply.

“Nightmare on Elm Street,”

“Wrong,” Suguru goes off script and your lips part for a moment. You’re about to complain, tell him that this wasn’t in the movie—he lets go of your wrists and throws you over his shoulder, delivering a harsh smack to your ass, his rough hand kneads the skin as he makes his way towards your bedroom.

“Better luck next time,” he throws you on the bed and you let out a gasp when your back hits the mattress. You try to sit up, but your husband grabs your ankles and pulls you down towards the end of the bed. “Now let’s see just how fucking filthy you are,”

He parts your legs with his big hands covering the plush skin of your thighs, and you whine out when he removes your shorts to reveal your panties that had an obvious wet patch on them.

“Fuuuck,” he breathes out and lifts up the mask enough for his mouth and nose to be visible. He presses his nose against your panties and takes a whiff of your arousal, the sight is obscene and your face turns red at how pussy drunk he sounds. “Fuck, fuck—should’ve done this sooner baby, you smell so fucking good,” he gives your pussy a kiss through the fabric of your panties before his fingers remove them so messily that you let out a startled noise.

Suguru dives in between your legs and the wet sounds are dirty and make you feel even more turned on. His tongue laps at your clit, fingers pulling the hood back before spitting on it and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he sucks. Two of his thick fingers prod at your entrance, gathering some of the slick that’s pooled there before pushing a single finger inside.

“Thaaaat’s it, good girl,” he breathes out against your clit before giving it a kiss as he pushes the second finger inside. “Yeah, this pussy loves being stuffed by me—fuck, you’re so wet for me. All because of this mask baby girl?” his tone is playful but you’re far too gone to complain and just mindlessly nod.

“So drunk off of me and I haven’t even given you my cock,” he pumps his fingers in and out of you all while curling them to find that one spot inside you. He licks, sucks and spits on your clit with so much passion and when he finds that one spot, you let him know pretty quickly.

“Oh!” you gasp and your thighs shake. “S-Suguru, oh fuck--!” his wrist is burning as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, and the veins in his forearm are bulging out from the sheer strength he is using to finger fuck you until you see white. His free hand comes down and presses against your stomach to apply pressure and keep you pinned down.

You make the mistake of opening your eyes to stare at him. His hand is covered in your arousal, but what truly pushes you over the edge is the fact that his mask had come down and was covering his face entirely. So when he decides to talk you through it, give you that one final push—the ghostface mask seems to intensify the orgasm tenfold.

“I know you’re a good girl, but I’m gonna need you to get dirty for me baby—there it is, theeere it is,” he sounds proud when you finally cum, and you’re loud. You whine and let out soft cries, your hands weakly push at his arm when he keeps fingering you through your orgasm.

“Suguru—too much!” you cry out and gasp when he pulls his fingers out of your soaking pussy to slap your clit.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he quickly starts to unbuckle his belt and pushes his pants enough to free his cock. The tip nudges at your folds and your husband hovers over you with his lean stature. Big broad shoulders cover your entire frame and you’re fucked out from your previous orgasm.

“I’m going in baby, let me in,” your legs spread instinctively to welcome him inside of you and you groan when you feel the sheer size of him inside you. Your hands grip at the back of his shirt, but Suguru holds himself up on his forearms so that you look at his mask.

“Yeah, that’s right—look at me baby, filthy fucking girl,” his strokes were slow but hard. His hands grab at the back of your thighs and push them before fucking into you harder. “You like it, huh?” you couldn’t even give a proper response, only mindlessly nodding when you could feel him even deeper inside you.

He pushes your knees to your chest before setting a dizzying pace. You feel so full of him, so full of his thick cock and Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head behind his mask every time he felt your pussy squeeze around him. His finger rubs at your clit the same way that you’ve shown him you like it, and the tip of his cock repeatedly nudges against that one spot that has you falling apart underneath him with a loud cry.

Your orgasm hits you hard and Suguru can’t hold it in any longer—he fucks into you for another minute, head buried in your neck as he groans out your name. Your pussy milks him dry, and he fills you up to the brim—to the point where you could feel him leak out of you.

You lay there breathing heavily, and you weakly reach for the ghostface mask and remove it off of your husband to reveal his sweaty forehead and flushed cheeks. He looks gorgeous like that, and you lock eyes for the first time since the entire night and you’re immediately pulled in towards one another.

Suguru kisses you with so much passion, dick still buried deep inside you and your legs stay wrapped around him as you two make out heavily under your sheets that stuck to your sweaty bodies. You pull away for a moment to kiss his forehead and Suguru closes his eyes as he melts at your touch.

“Thank you for that,” you say, so love struck that the man can’t help but chuckle at how breathless you sound.

“Let’s do it again, yeah?”

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

—💭 if you like this, leave a tip!

[gh0stsp1d3r]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ That’s not a thermometer.

cw: fem!reader, they’re also married, anxiety, pregnancy, doubts of being a good father, mentions of daddy issues, but mostly fluff

A/n: the people REALLY wanted more nerd!rafe… and my baby fever is crazy rn so… this is curing it

MASTERLIST

A few weeks ago, you’d been panicking at the thought of it. As you stood there, waiting in the bathroom for the lines to show up, your mind ran wild.

What if you were pregnant? Would Rafe stay? Or would he be scared and leave?

No, you told yourself. Rafe was better than that.

You saw the two lines, and you just about passed out. Oh god, oh god. You took another test, just to be sure. Positive again.

You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat, Rafe knocking on the bathroom door while clearing his throat.

“Y/n? Are you okay? You’ve been in there a while.” He asked, voice full of concern. The movie buzzed on in the background, but it was long forgotten at this point.

“Uhm- yeah! I’m- I’m fine!” You replied, taking both tests in your hands, looking around the bathroom. You thought of tossing it into the trash, but Rafe was very oddly observant. He’d probably notice it while he was taking out the trash or something.

You shoved it into the pockets of your hoodie, telling yourself that it would be okay, and that Rafe wouldn’t know anything as you opened the door.

He had a small frown on his face, leaning against the doorway.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you, immediately sensing something was off. You wished he couldn’t read you so well, sometimes.

“I’m alright.” You repeated, him quirking an eyebrow, pushing himself off of the doorway.

“Alright.” He replied, although not convinced at all. He decided not to press any further, sitting down on his bed. You sat down next to him, your head still spinning and swirling.

He laid down, waiting for you to do the same. When he looked at you, however, you were completely zoned out, your eyes glossed over and your face unreadable.

“Hey,” he spoke quietly, putting his hand on your thigh. You jerked slightly, turning to him with wide eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re looking a little pale…” he noted, moving his other hand onto your forehead.

You gave him a tight lipped smile, nodding as you pushed his hand off of your face. “I’m finee, Rafe. Quit worrying about me.” You told him, going to lay down with him in an attempt to act normal.

“I can’t help it.” He replied, kissing the side of your head, pulling you closer to him, his arm now lazily slung over your stomach.

The movie became less and less interesting, Rafe speaking over it at times and saying how the main character was “pissing him off.”

“Oh, are you serious? Whoever wrote this movie sucks. This doesn’t even make sense. The plot is all over the place and they just completely mischaracterized their own character.”

You didn’t reply, already knowing how deep he analyzed these movies and shows. Usually, you’d agree or laugh with him about it, but today you didn’t. You were quiet the entire time, actually.

Rafes worries grew. ‘Did I do something?’ He thought, replaying every moment with you recently. He couldn’t think of anything. So, he remained quiet after a while, deciding to not bother you.

He felt you slowly grow more limp in his hands as the movie played on, slowly dozing off with your head resting against his shoulder.

He had a soft smile on his face, glancing at you. That smile faded when he felt something cold touch his hands, dropping from your pockets. He furrowed his eyebrows, feeling the shape of it. At first, he thought it was some thermometer. He had felt the body of it, nothing more.

Why would there be a thermometer in your pocket?

He glanced at your sleeping figure once more, before moving his hand and pulling the object out from underneath the covers and your body.

That’s not a thermometer.

His eyes widened and his grip loosened on the object, dropping it for a moment. He quickly reached over your form, grabbing it and holding it close to his face as if it was unbelievable.

He examined it closely, looking over the two lines multiple times. He swallowed, looking back down at you. He sighed quietly, putting his hand on his forehead and staring up at the ceiling.

Okay, he wasn’t upset at you. He was more so confused and worried. He thought for a moment, would a child really be that bad? He had taken his father’s business over now, money pouring in like it was nothing. That wasn’t a problem. The main thing he was worried about was how good of a dad he’d really be.

He wouldn’t leave this child, god no. He knew that much. He loved you far too much.

Plus, you’d spoken about this before. Neither of you were against the idea, he just didn’t think it would be this soon.

But, living his whole life without a proper father figure screwed him up more than he’d like to admit. He didn’t know how a father should act, how a father should really treat a child. What if his child ended up like him? What if he needed to go to anger management and fucking therapy all because of Rafe?

His thought were interrupted when you began to squirm around in your sleep, your eyes beginning to flutter open. You saw Rafe staring at you, his eyes glossed over. He gave you a small smile, moving the hair from your face.

You gave him a tired smile back, and for a moment, he made you forget about everything else. When his arms wrapped around you again, there was nothing else in the world.

“I love you, you know that?” He rasped out quietly.

“I love you too.” You replied, although very confused at the random statement.

He pulled away, looking you in your eyes for a moment. He sat up slowly, you furrowing your eyebrows worriedly at him as you did the same.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him, him shaking his head.

“I..uhm..” he pulled out the test, letting it speak for itself. It was like the words had gotten stuck in his throat.

“Oh.” You mumbled, dropping your gaze down.

“I know this probably isn’t how you wanted me to find out.” He spoke, you looking down at your lap still, avoiding his gaze. “And I want you to know-“ he paused, looking at you.

“Y/n.” His hand moved, grabbing your face in his hands, moving closer towards you. You looked up at him finally, tears brimming your eyes.

“I love you.” He repeated. Those words meant more to you than he could imagine at the moment. You started full on sobbing, him wrapping his arms around you, letting you cry into his shoulder.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. We’ll be okay.” He told you in a murmur, your hands bunching up the fabric of his shirt.

“I love you.” You cried out, him letting out a quiet laugh, continuing to let you cry.

“Hey, hey,” he spoke when he heard nothing but little sniffles coming from you. You pulled away, looking at him again. He brought the pad of his thumb, wiping away any remaining tears.

“I meant it. I- I really, really wanna be here for you. For the both of you. Okay? I’m gonna- gonna get my shit together, ‘m gonna… figure it all out.”

“Thank you.” You replied quietly, him giving you a soft smile, pulling you in for another hug.

“You’re gonna be a really good dad.” You murmured against him, him smiling at the thought of it. With those simple words, all his anxiety was eased.

“You’re gonna be the best mom.” He retorted.

You giggled at him, leaning up so you could kiss hm.

When you pulled away, you both got back down into the sheets.

“You know, I think it’s gonna be a girl.” You told him quietly, him tilting his head to the side.

“Well, you’d probably be right. Most people think that the likelihood you’ll have a boy or a girl is inherited through the father… considering that I’m literally the only boy in the family, then, you’d probably be correct.”

“I’m trying to be cute and you’re spewing facts at me.” You teased him, him shrugging.

“Well, you knew about the deal when you decided to marry me.” He pulled his hand out from under the covers, showing the ring on his finger.

“You should have put it in your vows.” You replied.

“How would I word that, exactly?”

“I, Rafe Cameron, promise to never stop giving you extremely random science facts, even when you’re pregnant.” You spoke in a deep, mocking voice. It made him laugh out loudly.

“I do not sound like that.”

“You kinda do.” You laughed.

Rafe shook his head with a soft smile, and he knew, despite everything he’s gone through and everything that’s happened, if it led him to you, he’d do it 10 times over again.

Taglist:

@moonssyrup @koibleufish @anamiad00msday @wearemadeofstardust0 @10ava01 @mileyraes

[bloodibambiidoll]

I lost the ask but someone requested Rafe fucking weird!girl in the ass with a dildo while he fucks her based on this blurb.

Rafe being a possessive drama queen, weird!girl pushing his buttons, Rarry mention !!, talks of spanking/edging, degradation, double penetration(with a toy), unprotected sex, hair pulling, squirting 18+MDNI

“What about Barry?” You and Rafe are having a lazy afternoon, he’s watching the game while you get engrossed in another dark romance novel. This one is about two drug dealers and the scenes with them fucking the female main character have you clenching your thighs. Plus, you love any chance to rile Rafe up and get him a little possessive. He always fucks you until you can hardly see.

“What about Barry?” Rafe turns toward you with a raised brow.

“Ya know, you said you’d never have a threesome with me and another guy. But, what about Barry?” You say it so casually, like you didn’t just bring up fucking Rafe’s pretty much best friend. You visibly see his face turn red and if he was a cartoon steam would probably be coming out of his ears. You have to choke back a laugh because you’re joking. Mostly.

“You’re never fuckin’ seeing him again.” Rafe eyes are practically blue flames as he flares his nostrils and points his finger at the book grasped in your hands. “What’s that book about?”

“Rafe, I’m joking! I’m just fucking with you, calm down.” You can’t help but giggle at how worked up he is. “I just thought maybe you guys could finally fuck it out, is all.”

“WHAT!? I think you’re fuckin’ projecting.” Rafe’s eyes look like they’re going to bulge out of his skull and it just sends you into another fit of laughter. “Stop laughing at me or I’ll make you.”

“Oh yeah? I think you’re just mad because you wanna boy kiss Barry and I’m saying the quiet part loud.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he lunges at you, grabbing your book from your hand and tossing it across the couch.

“I think you’re fuckin’ making excuses and you wanna fuck him.” He cages you in with his arms, his face inches from yours.

“Rafe, baby, I don’t wanna fuck Barry, calm down.” You coo at him and grab his face, squishing his cheeks together. Your condescending tone earns you a hand around your throat and it makes you smile wickedly up at your boyfriend. You love pushing his buttons. “But you do though.”

“Oh my fuckin’ god! You’re being so annoying.” Rafe grits and squeezes your throat tighter but it only widens your smile. “You’re the one that’s so obsessed with having two dicks in you at once. Was fucking you with your little dildo once not enough? You just pissin’ me off so I’ll do it again?”

“Mmm, maybe.” You lick your lips and your pussy clenches at the thought. It’s Rafe’s turn to grin down at you wickedly, you wanna play that game? Fine, he’ll bite.

“Yeah, fuckin’ look at you, my greedy little whore.” Rafe pounds into you from behind, his thighs slapping against your own causing your ass to jiggle with each thrust. He’s holding your longest, thickest dildo in one hand, thrusting it in and out of your ass in time with the pumps of his cock. “No one’s ever touching these holes besides me. You’re fuckin’ mine.”

He lands a harsh smack on your already red, aching ass and it causes you to yelp and clench around him and the toy nestled inside you. He spanked you and edged you until you were a sobbing mess, begging him to fuck your holes.

“Say it. Tell me you’re my slut.” Rafe spanks you again and it has your toes curling while your drool drips down onto the Egyptian cotton sheets.

“I’m your slut daddy, only yours.” You whine and push your hips back against his, trying to meet his erratic thrusts. “Every inch of me is yours. Only want you.”

“Yeah, that’s fuckin’ right. You can have your little book fantasies.” Rafe pulls his cock and the dildo almost entirely out of you before slamming them back in at a brutal force. “But next time you bring another man up to me, you won’t be able to walk for a week from how bad I beat your ass. And maybe I’ll have to beat their fuckin’ ass too. Don’t make me hurt Barry, baby.”

“S-sorry daddy, won’t do it again.” You intentionally clench around him and he roughly presses your face into the mattress in response. He pumps the toy in and out of your ass as his cock bullies your g-spot and it causes your entire body to heat with pleasure.

“You gonna cum for me? Give it to me, let daddy feel your whore pussy gush all over his cock.” Rafe gathers your hair into a ponytail so he can pull your head back, using his grip on you for leverage as he fills you entirely over and over again. He flicks the button on the side of the dildo and it starts to vibrate and thrust itself faster into your ass. The added sensation has euphoria taking over your entire being. You gush around Rafe’s cock, your cum dripping from your pussy and down onto both your thighs. “Oh, that’s my good fuckin’ girl, squirt for me.”

“Fuck, daddy, m’so sensitive.” You whine as your legs shake but Rafe just chuckles before shoving your face back down into the mattress. He turns up the intensity on the toy and it makes you cry out as your body subconsciously tries to wiggle away from him.

“Oh, no baby. Where you goin’ huh?” Rafe grips onto your hip so he can roughly pull you back against him and hold you in place as he uses you like a fuck doll. “You can fuckin’ take it. Gimme another one.”

Rafe presses the dildo as deep as it can go into your ass and holds it there. It vibrates and twitches inside you, the auto thrust feature doing his job for him. He fucks into you with a brutal force that practically knocks the wind out of you. His hand snakes between your legs and he leans over you, covering his body with his own. The new angle has your vision practically going white.

“Oh fuck, m’gonna cum, gonna cum.” You babble and whine as your high washes over you, another gush of your creamy liquid dripping down onto the mattress. Rafe’s cock twitches at the sight and a few more pumps of his hips has him spilling inside you.

“Yeah, take my fuckin’ cum.” Rafe doesn’t stop fucking you until his balls are empty and his cock starts to soften inside you. He pulls the dildo from your ass and slumps over on the mattress, pulling you with him.

“God, that was so good.” You sigh as you look up at him dreamily and you aren’t surprised to see him pouting down at you. “What, you still grumpy?”

“I meant that shit, you’re never seeing Barry again.”

“Stop being so dramatic, Barry is my friend.” You roll over so you’re straddling him with a mischievous smile painted on your lips. “And you’re the one who wants to fuck him, not me.”

“Oh my fuckin’ god!” Rafe groans and throws his head back dramatically. “You’ve gotta quit that shit out. You wouldn’t have brought it up if you didn’t at least consider it a bit. What would you have done if I said yes?”

“I would’ve still told you I was joking because I was.” And you were. Mostly. You wouldn’t have turned it down if he agreed. Just as a one time thing. But that’s something for you to know and Rafe to never find out.

“Good. You’re mine and I don’t share shit.”

Tagging mooties & weird!girl lovers: @babygorewhore @eddiesxangel @cxrrodedcoffin @starkeysprincess @cameronsprincess @nemesyaaa @that-sarcastic-writer @rafeyscurtainbangs

Divider by @anitalenia

All things Rafe & his weird!girl here

[artdolliewishes]

Imagine female Yuu having to cross dress to avoid unnecessary trouble at NRC and Idia finds out through Ortho. Because I can see Ortho finding out if Yuu ever got a minor injury and he was around to play nurse, knowing him he’d do a quick full body scan and find a very high amount of estrogen in her system.

And he blabs to Idia because he’s a snitch who doesn’t keep anything from his brother; if you tell a secret to him, you’re basically telling it to them.

Once Idia finds out, his mind INSTANTLY goes to those otome games and fanfics and gacha life videos about a girl in all boys school. He always thought those were just fun fantasies, but upon seeing that exact scenario happening in real life he becomes curious.

Prior to this, Idia probably wouldn’t think much about Yuu. To him, she was just the odd magicless guy his brother would occasionally run into; the most interesting thing about her was her cat, in his eyes. But now that he knows about her secret, he becomes heavily invested in her school life, he wants to see how this is going to turn out.

He doesn’t exactly stalk Yuu, it’s not like he’s putting cameras in Ramshackle or listening devices in her bag, it’s more like he just pays extra close attention to her when he has the chance, such as during joint classes and lunch. And since Ortho and her are on amicable terms, he encourages Ortho to spill any gossip he learns when around her.

To Idia’s surprise and delight, things end up matching up almost perfectly with what he’s come to expect from these kinds of plots. The ones close to Yuu, who seem to be privy to her secret from what he’s gathered, are all either falling in love or have already been in love. They’re extra protective of her, they’re affectionate and soft with her, and they get jealous when she gives too much of her attention to any one of them.

Idia knows about the overblot incidents, so of course he’d see the pattern in who starts getting closer. Every time someone overblots, Yuu will be there to help and both the overblotter and some other select people in their dorm will begin to fall. It’s a classic pattern.

At this point, Idia would simply see himself as an observer peeking in on this story and, therefore, he can’t be affected by Yuu. He’s not a love target in her story, he’s a side character.

It doesn’t matter that he’s occasionally run in with Yuu and each time he has she’s been a true friend to an introvert like him by making his anxious ass feel comfortable. It doesn’t matter because he’s aware of what’s happening and thus he can’t be affected.

But then he also overblots, and just like before she was there to help pick up the pieces. After that they ended up talking and Idia gets to know more about Yuu, more than he could learn by just observing.

Before long, he’s actually looking forward to seeing her again, to nerding out about his favorite anime’s with her in person because she’s always such a good listener. He’s looking at his manga and game collections and thinking about what she would like.

Idia doesn’t even realize his hearts been skipping beats when she’s around until one day when he’s in class and she walks in. Like a dog hearing their owner walk through the front door, his gaze shoots up and instantly that class gets fifty times more bearable with her around.

…And then he looks around and every other “main character” has had the same reaction.

Which means that he’s also a captured love target, just like them…

Oh how the turn tables for a dating sim loving nerd like himself

[femimation]

Jax and Ragatha are both eachother’s antithesis and parallel.

That is to say: They’re doing the same thing in opposite ways.

In the Jax post I made I mentioned at the end that I think Episode 4’s mask theming goes beyond the main focus of Gangle, specifically that it also applies and is shown through Ragatha and Jax’s storylines.

Let’s dive into that more! The episode literally starts with an interaction between these three.

Obviously Gangle’s comedy mask would have to break to kickstart this episode, and obviously Jax would probably be involved in that, but I still think it’s very deliberate that this scene only contains these 3. They’re the characters the episode is about and that you’re supposed to pay the most attention to. They’re the ones wearing masks, (literal or metaphorical) following the episode’s main theme.

But focusing on Ragatha and Jax, the both have very notable behavior changes in this episode for different reasons. Ragatha acting different because of the stupid sauce and Jax after the training/employee reevaluation/torture thing.

Heeeere’s where I may lose some people: I think their behavior changes are meant to evoke the typical behavior of the other in some subtle ways.

Some specific examples before I generalize: On the stupid sauce, Ragatha essentially repeats a sentiment Jax made earlier in the episode.

She isn’t “acting like Jax,” she says it in a bit of a nicer Ragatha-y like way. She even acknowledges that she was being rude.

On the other hand, once Jax is mellowed out, he asks Pomni how she is. The past three episodes have had Ragatha constantly doting over Pomni and asking her how she’s doing.

Which again, is not to say Jax is “acting like Ragatha” exactly, he’s nowhere near as interested or overbearing as Ragatha typically is.

But that’s all still part of my point, they aren’t mirroring the other one to one, not even close, but their roles are swapped regardless.

Ragatha speaking her mind to everyone however rude it may be: Telling Gangle she’s annoying, Zooble that they’re grouchy, Jax that she hates him, complaining about Pomni’s connection with Gummigoo.

Jax being calm and even downright friendly: Exchanging pleasantries with Pomni, not messing with Ragatha in her… state, (barely even reacting to her) going along with the adventure until it’s over.

Not exactly like the other, but evoking the other. I think this is written purposefully.

Why? Refer to the title of this post. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that these two’s own respective focus episodes are going to be back to back as episode 5 and 6. They’re the same and they’re opposites.

Ragatha’s “mask” is being overbearingly caring, wanting everyone to like her and think of her as nice or even motherly. She will act like this regardless of how she really feels about something.

Jax’s “mask” is being unbearably antagonistic, wanting everyone to think he only cares about his own entertainment and that their wellbeing never even crosses his mind. He will act this way regardless of how he really feels about something.

Their swapped roles in this episode is a display of these masks beginning to slip, making their parallels abundantly clear.

Gangle’s drawing posted on Glitch’s social media really runs this all home for me.

Gangle draws herself with Pomni and Zooble, all happy and talking with eachother. Pomni and Zooble are upfront with the other characters, they aren’t wearing masks. The both make effort throughout the episode to be there for and help Gangle. Therefore, they can be connected with. Their care is always genuine because they’re always honest.

Ragatha and Jax can’t be connected with. Ragatha, despite probably being a genuinely sweet person, is too far behind her mask to reach and tell what of her is genuine and what is a performance. Jax… acts like Jax. Even though he’s probably quite an average person behind the mask.

Jax and Ragatha are both unreachable to the other characters for the same reason, despite their typical behavior being so opposite. Their true selves are both hidden behind opposite masks.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

It's a brainstorm day! A day I spend only writing prompts for myself to be used (or not used) at a later date. This day looks like this in my notebook:

A search and rescue ranger for hire that always somehow ends up saving people from supernatural phenomena she has NO experience with. She has regular run ins with people who DO know what the supernatural phenomena are, but they never find anyone alive. They try to recruit her and she has a hard time believing they’re for real.

A kingdom that chooses its ruler by who can make the most interesting story about an artefact from the treasury, assigning a history to it after their library of records burned 1000 years ago. However,  the main character is reincarnated from that time and keeps winning the challenges by ACTUALLY knowing what they’re for. Or the main character makes up stories according to the kingdom’s morals and wins that way? Interesting world, don’t know what character would be the most interesting in it.

A ghost who is just being a Chill Guy when he’s dragged into a mad scientist’s experiment which gives him a body – HIS body made corporeal – again. Does he feel good about this? Bad about this? Is his new quest to die or to live a better life than he lived before?

A girl who is turned into a werewolf during a college rager and she treats it like an STD. “I am confident I can live a good life, it will just look a little different than others’. This condition can be managed (uwu).” And the pack who is now obligated to take her in is like…look we don’t want to tell you how to live your life since one of our pack members did this to you non-consensually, but you DO need to fall into pack dynamics asap. And she’s like, “Sparkle, sparkle, NO”

A mermaid who is confused and alarmed when her friends all suddenly want to give up their tails to go on land. Turns out there is a Land Siren out there and it’s literally just a character from Bay Watch.

[ichorai]

button ; coriolanus snow. (m)

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; what did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. misshaped. odd. not matching the rest of your buttons. his gift to you. “you’re wearing it,” coriolanus whispered. his voice sounded strained.

words ; 3.4k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, smut

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex (not very explicit), possessiveness, themes of classism, we meet reader's rich parents !! and grandma'am and tigris appear, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

a/n ; there will be a third part loosely following the events of the movie (obv tweaked for the fic!)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Your home was the very definition of old money—wealth and grace and high status carved into the marble floors, hung up in the large oil paintings, found within the fibers of the expensive carpets leading into grand halls. Snow had to consciously remind himself to appear unphased. He had this sort of life, too, as far as you were concerned.

It was only expected, especially considering your parents’ high positions: with your father being the top admiral of the navy, and your mother a renowned physicist with several awards under her belt. Dozens of rows of medals and framed certifications from both your parents were more than enough for Snow to gauge the mass of their importance.

He shifted the weight of his feet in his too-tight shoes. Anxious. He wore his dress shirt again, though not before asking Tigris to try and rework the buttons. The buttons hewn from his bathroom tiles. Make them look the same, he had told her. They’re uneven. Snow turned away before he could see her mildly crestfallen expression.

It was a special occasion, hence his dressed-up attire. There was a rose pinned to his waistcoat, a deep shade of red, from his Grandma’am’s rooftop garden. Your father had come home today, after months of military work in the districts. And to celebrate such a momentous evening, you invited him to dinner. 

To meet your parents. How utterly fraught.

Though, now that the two of you were officially together (albeit only recently—Sejanus asked if the two of you were a thing and Coryo replied with an instinctive, possessive yes, much to both of your surprise), Coriolanus supposed there was no use in delaying the inevitable.

“Don’t be nervous,” you told him, arm looped around his. The white rose he’d given you upon his arrival was tucked neatly behind your ear, a lovely contrast to your all-black garb. In a light-hearted tone, you added, “Father would be able to smell it on you. The fear.”

Coriolanus shot you an exasperated glance, to which you only smiled. You landed a soft, reassuring kiss onto his cheek, hand sliding down from his elbow to lace with his. 

“You look… breathtaking,” he said, lifting your conjoined palms to brush his lips over your knuckles. Of the many lies that he told you, this certainly wasn’t one of them. 

Your eyes gleamed with the light from the chandelier hanging above you.

“And you look handsome as ever.” A pause. You seemed bashful all of a sudden, averting your gaze to the gold patterns on the marble floors. “I know this is all very new, so I apologize in advance, if my father asks about our, uhm… our future… He’s a very forward man.”

A smile twitched at the corner of his lips and he slotted his free hand beneath your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing lightly over the side of your throat, forcing you to look back at him. “I have no intention of letting you go, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You smiled again, all sunlight and warmth, and Coriolanus couldn’t help but steal it away with one last kiss. 

“Ready?” you asked, jerking your head in the direction of the dining room. 

Snow swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

Dinner was quite a pleasant affair. The food was better than anything the academy ever served—Coriolanus wondered how you could willingly go from eating such delicacies at home to basic, run-of-the-mill meals the cafeteria provided. There were courses, tender peppered steaks (his very favorite), rich mushroom soups, iced lemon cakes, and several sorts of breads and butters were offered all throughout.

Your mother was a delight, enchanting him with stories of laboratory mishaps and her dangerous adventures with radioactive material. You looked a lot like her, he realized.

Your father, on the other hand, was pressing at first, grilling Coriolanus with dozens of personal questions. If you hadn’t warned him beforehand that he was a military leader, he most definitely would’ve worked it out for himself then. There were times where you politely but forcefully snapped at him, telling him to lay off the invasive interrogation and to let the poor man eat. But Coriolanus really didn’t mind—he’d spent hours upon hours preparing himself for this. He answered all of the questions with effortless ease.

By the third course, your father was satisfied. Reluctant, but satisfied. By the fourth, he was already asking about marriage, much to your mortification. Coriolanus smiled down at his plate, and quietly listened to you lecture your father about privacy and civility.

Yes, dinner was quite enjoyable. Several containers of food from unseen servants were wrapped up for him to take home, at your request, despite his polite protests. It wasn’t a common thing to do in the capitol, but your parents hadn’t batted an eye. 

He was safe. They didn’t know. It was an ongoing mantra the entire night.

He was shown out the door by your father, who clapped a large hand on his shoulder and told him to take care of you, especially while he was gone. Your mother kissed him once on each cheek as farewell, and you did the same, though your kisses strayed far closer to his lips. He caught the mischievous gleam in your eyes. 

The door shut behind him once he strode into the expansive courtyard in front of your mansion of a home. He glanced down at the rose pinned to his coat, wondering if you were still wearing yours behind your ear. A minute later, he jumped out of his reverie when the entrance creaked open once more. You peeked your head back out, eyes alight, pleased to see that he was still there. 

You slid out from the entryway and made your way to him with quick strides, wasting no time to rest your hands upon his chest. To his delight, you were still wearing the rose. “Father and mother left to watch television in the estate’s Northern wing. Didn’t want to kiss you in front of them.”

There were wings to your house? Coriolanus blinked at you, accidentally letting his indifferent mask slip for a few seconds. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly. It took him another moment to gather his wits, before winding his arms about your waist and deepening the kiss, nearly bending you backwards with his vigor.

He could never tire of this, he thought, fingers curling so his nails dug into the expensive black fabric of your top. Kissing you, touching you, entertaining the notion that you were his, and only his. 

When you pulled away, your lips were wonderfully kiss-swollen and your pupils were blown wide, to his amusement. Were his eyes just the same?

“Thank you for being here today,” you mumbled, that smile-frown he was so fond of gracing your features once more. “I’m sorry if my parents were too—”

“They were wonderful. You’re wonderful,” he interrupted, tone soft. His hand lifted from your waist to cup your face. Cold fingers against flushed skin. “I’ll see you at the academy?”

A nod, a grin, and a relieved sigh. “Sleep well, Coryo.”

“You, too.” He pulled away, reluctant, allowing his hands to fall back to his sides. “You look good with it, you know. The rose.” With a final nod, he turned on his heel and walked away from your estate, back to his own cold penthouse, where he had to burn newspaper scraps to keep warm.

The months drew by like a lazy stream of water, gliding over a bed of stones, languid and pleasant. Your time with Coriolanus was nothing short of utter bliss. He was a sweet lover, despite his possessive streaks, always making sure you were alright with what he was doing. The two of you went slow and steady, always asking, always gentle. He kissed you as if you were made of sugar glass, and you held onto him as if he was a fragile ceramic vase.

Exams were drawing nearer with each passing day, and the two of you found yourself studying and cramming more than anything. He would often tell you that there was no need for you to study so hard, especially when you were already at the very top, likely to claim the Plinth prize for yourself, but you always waved him away with a modest laugh. If the two of you weren’t at the library pouring over dozens upon dozens of books, you were finding ways to sneak him into your home: kissing behind stone statues in the gardens, hiding behind velvet curtains, pulling him onto your massive, four-poster bed.

It was only a matter of time until you asked.

His arm was draped over your bare midriff, drawing mindless shapes into your hip. Your head rested back against his chest, mildly sweaty from the lovemaking session the two of you were still dwindling down from. You stared out your window, watching the sun slowly bleed the sky a hazy clementine hue, teeth sinking down into the flesh of your bottom lip in thought.

“Why haven’t we ever studied at your home, Coryo?” you asked. “I’ve yet to meet your cousin. You talk about her a lot… she seems wonderful.”

You felt a cold breath billow over the back of your neck. It sent pleasant chills spider down your spinal column. And you could’ve imagined it, but his fingers seemed to flex over your bare flesh. Twitch. Almost antsy. Did your question make him uncomfortable?

Shifting in his grasp, you turned within his arms so you could face him. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you, or anything. I just… just know that I’d never judge you.”

His expression was near unreadable, the blue of his eyes even paler than usual with the sunset’s light casting a honey-glow over both of your sprawled-out forms. He kissed you again, hungrily, almost as if to distract you. You let him.

Kiss you, touch you, bruise you. Any of it, all of it.

A low groan barreled within his chest when you fisted a handful of his soft blonde waves at the base of his neck, gently tugging. 

“Nothing you could show me would make me love you any less,” you muttered against his lips, nose nudging against his. “Nothing, Coryo.”

And he, in a moment of love-addled weakness, let himself believe you.

Come the next afternoon, you were at the door of the Snows’ penthouse, a basketed batch of warm cookies held in one hand, the other holding a heavy bag full of all your textbooks to study. If the two of you were going to study at all today. Your mother was aghast that you were about to visit his home without some sort of gift, and abruptly shoved the basket of goodies into your arms out of seemingly nowhere, as if materialized out of thin air.

“Coriolanus loves the chocolate chip ones,” she harrumphed whilst ushering you out the door. “Honestly, showing up to someone else’s home empty-handed? Who raised you?”

The irony was not lost on either of you, and you barked out a laugh before kissing her farewell and setting off to visit him. 

You rang the rusted doorbell once—curiously regarding the little button once you realized that it was broken. Then, you knocked the door twice, then another two times for good measure. There was a muffled scuffling behind the door, a woman’s voice echoing from behind.

And when it swung open, you were met with an elderly woman, shrouded in a too-large, black tunic with embroidered flowers on the sleeves, the threads loose and pulled, the once-vibrant colors faded. She wore a turban, covering most of her white hair save for the few thin tendrils framing the sides of her face. 

“Hello, I’m Coriolanus’ classmate,” you greeted, in an ever-so-capitol-esque manner. “You must be his… Grandma’am?”

She appeared confused for a moment, before slow sparks of recognition fired across her blue eyes. Coriolanus had the same eyes, you noted.

“Oh!” she crooned. “Oh, dear me! Coriolanus! It’s your lovely friend!” 

There was a bit of commotion down the hall. The brief moment of pause allowed you to finally take in why Coriolanus hadn’t wanted you to come to his home all this time. The penthouse was still quite lavish, as the Snow estate was one of the most expensive properties in the capitol, but it was clear that the space was diminishing with the weight of its upkeep—flickering lights, dusty floors, tears in the wallpapers, mold on the countertops…

Your attention was drawn away from the view when Tigris and Coryo emerged from the same room, and you couldn’t help the smile that threatened to break across your features. His cousin was fretting over his lopsided curls, and he discreetly tried to duck out of her way to get to you.

“My, you are just as gorgeous as he said you were!” Grandma’am said in a pitching tone, wrangling your attention back to her. She lifted her hands to lightly pinch at your cheeks. “Yes, you’ll do just fine.” Her fingers fell away and she scuttled off, murmuring something about the Capitol’s First Partner—

Coriolanus breathed out your name and his hand was on your shoulder, apologizing once, twice, three times (what was he even apologizing for?), before Tigris popped up by his side, bumping him out of the way so she could shake your hand vigorously.

“Hi! I’m Tigris—it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You shook the blonde woman’s hand, smile seeming to grow impossibly wider. “It’s nice to meet you, too! I love your dress.”

Her mouth dropped open in a flustered manner and a lovely rose shade dusted over her cheekbones. “Oh, this old thing?” She absentmindedly smoothed a hand down the frills of her pink dress. “Yeah, I… oh, it’s nothing, really, I just made it myself.”

“That’s incredibly impressive! You must be a really talented seamstress.”

A sharp clear of his throat made your eyes snap back to Coriolanus. 

“Coryo,” you greeted warmly. “I brought you cookies. Chocolate chip. Mother sends her regards.”

The two Snows in front of you eyed the basket with large eyes. 

“Thank you,” he croaked, accepting the basket from your extended hands and handing it over to his cousin. “Tigris, if you’d excuse us—we’ve got some studying to do.”

Coriolanus began to tug you down the hall, and you waved back to Tigris, telling her that you’d love to see any of her other dresses later. She’d already reached into the basket and had a cookie halfway to her mouth as she nodded at you with a toothy grin.

His room was in around the same state as the rest of the home. Furniture was old, torn, frayed, or simply broken. There were several boarded-up holes in his dresser. There was a box of rat poison below his desk, which was full with all sorts of papers and stacks of yellowing books. You skittered in and dropped your heavy bag down by his bed, allowing him to close the door behind you. You just barely registered the click of a lock.

“So?” he asked, voice sounding much louder in such a confined space. He seemed tense, as if bracing himself for the worst. “Are you disgusted yet?”

“What do you take me for?” you replied easily, having already gathered why he was so afraid of bringing you here in the first place. “I’m not a leech, nor am I vain, Coriolanus. I don’t want more money, and I’m not here to offer you charity to flaunt my wealth. I thought you’d know that by now.”

He stalked closer, observing you like a wolf would its prey. “What is it you want, then?”

When you took a step back closer to his small, rather wiry bed, he would take two longer strides, crowding you back against it. He dipped forward so that his lips were only a hair’s breadth from yours, but just barely not touching.

“You know, I’m sure.”

“I do.” Coriolanus knew that you wanted him just for him, and nothing gave him more pleasure than that simple fact. His nose brushed yours. 

“Would it make me a fool to stay?” you asked, the question fanning over his mouth. Inviting, ever so tantalizing. “You’re not planning on chopping me up and selling my organs for some cash, are you?”

He didn’t laugh at your little joke. Instead, he dove forward, one hand yanking your hips to his, the other winding over to the back of your head. He kissed you desperately, all teeth and tongue, hardened lips and his knee slotting between your thighs. 

“No,” he susurrated thickly, as if he’d swallowed honey and soil, pressing you down until you were fully laid down over his rickety bed, back arched. “You’d be mine. All of you, just mine.”

He swallowed any sort of gasp and moan that fell from your mouth. Greedy, lustful, determined to make you pliable. His kisses didn’t slow down whatsoever when he tore himself away from your lips, freckling them down your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, your collarbones. 

What did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. 

Misshaped. Odd. Not matching the rest of your buttons. His gift to you.

“You’re wearing it,” Coriolanus whispered. His voice sounded strained.

“Mmh?” You glanced down at the button. “Oh. Of course, I am. I like how it looks.”

His face hovered above yours once more. His stare was so intense you began to shy away, staring at a moldy patch on the ceiling. The silence felt suffocating as you waited for him to do something. Anything.

“I love you,” he breathed out, finally. Upfront and abrupt. It wasn’t often that he said it. Maybe once or twice before, since you said it more than enough for the both of you. 

You laughed then—your wonderful, wind-chime laughter. It was more out of shock than anything. He kissed you soft and sweet, momentarily quelling your chuckling. But as the afternoon of so-called ‘studying’ drew on, the laughter melded into sighs of pleasure when clothes were shed, shifting towards wanton moans of desperation when heated flesh slid against one another. 

You nearly choked when his length breached your entrance, scratching faint red lines down the expanse of his back as he pushed in, pulled out. Rhythmic. Again and again and again—you couldn’t seem to get enough of him on top of you, inside of you, all around you. Your chest was pressed up against his; could he hear your heart beating through your ribs, yearning to feel his? The coil within your lower abdomen tightened. He read your every microexpression just perfectly.

He’d unbuttoned your entire shirt save for the oddly-shaped one, hands groping all over your bare skin, teeth biting down onto the patch of skin just above the button as he rocked himself into a climax, roping you down into the abyss with him. Ragged groans and broken sighs. 

Coriolanus dragged his tongue up your chest and your neck, leaving a cold trail in his wake, and he sucked in a deep breath. When he pulled back to stare at you—flushed, hair mussed, sweat beaded along your hairline, his pearlescent spend between your thighs, your eyes half-lidded… chest only barely covered by his one button…

“Thank you,” he croaked, kissing the space beside your left eye. “For not running.”

“Don’t make me a fool for it,” you replied, looping your arms over Coriolanus’ neck so he could kiss you properly.