#instead of them just fucking handling it because they made the mistake

[curiosity-killed]

I hate dealing with customer service

[xineohps-nonsense]

I love jeopardizing my college career by angrily responding to the school board president every time she sends out an email about my school's pro-palestine rally last week!!

[weaveme-into-yoursin]

.

[webism]

Choso Kamo is desperate enough as it is, always eager to be touched by you, to taste you on his lips—it's hard to handle. Add a (rather expensive) block of aphrodisiac chocolate to the mix and you think you've made a mistake.

You told him to take only one, and to wait for you to get home to do so. You wanted to take them together and see if what the packaging promised was any true — that you’d be ‘sweating for sex’ in fifteen minutes flat. 

But he didn’t listen, or didn’t care to listen, because you’re still out for lunch with your friends when your phone rings and Chosos contact lights up your homescreen. You have to excuse yourself to take the call and answer with a sweet, unsuspecting ’hey, baby,’ that makes Choso nearly orgasm on the spot. 

“You have to come home.”

“What?” You think maybe you’ve misheard him over the chatter of the sweet little cafe you’re stood in. 

“Please, baby, please come home. I need you so bad it hurts, I’ve cum twice thinking about you because I didn’t want to bother you but it’s not enough and I’m hot everywhere and my stomach hurts because I need you so bad and—”

He never listens. You grumble the entire way home, your annoyance sparking flames over the burning heat in your core at the thought of your pretty boyfriend at home quite literally sweating for sex. You have to remind yourself to be upset at him for not listening because otherwise the thought of him, hot skin stuck to your bedsheets as he fucks into his fist wishing it was you, floods your mind instead. You wonder if he fucks different like this, if his typical gentle touch will be replaced with something needier—you’re of half a mind to deny him his pleasures, but that would be a disservice to yourself as well. 

When you step through your front door, you’re hit with the heavy scent of sex that usually permeates the room after you and Cho have been particularly energetic in between the sheets. It’s confusing, because how can one man fuck himself enough to change the temperature of the house? But it also goes straight to your cunt, a desperate sort of need blooming in your stomach that mirrors your boyfriends. 

The house is quiet, though, despite the fact you half expect Choso to be crying with need. Maybe he finally got it out of his system, called you home for nothing and is probably too spent to fuck the new need out of you. 

But as soon as you step into the bedroom, you’re met with the sight of your beautiful other half laid out on the bed as he fucks his fist so desperately in one hand you’re surprised his speed isn’t painful. His other hand is lifted to his mouth and caught between his teeth in a pathetic attempt to stifle his moans—the walls of your apartment are thin, at least he’s of sound enough mind to consider your neighbours. 

When his eyes lay sight on you, though, his crazed strokes still and he’s climbing off the bed in barely a second to bee-line straight to you. 

“Take a breath,” you manage as he grasp your hips and starts manhandling you to the bed.

“Can’t,” his voice is heavy.

“Cho—“ you’re pushed down onto the bed, your lover following to climb on top of you and attach his lips to the column of your neck. 

“I need you.”

And need he does, you can feel it in the way he slips your clothes from your body with such intent you barely notice it happen. You can feel it in the way his kisses light fire against your skin as he works down your chest, ribs, stomach, hips and finally reaching your aching cunt. 

A swipe of two fingers through your folds is enough to tell Choso you’re as needy as he is… almost. You aren’t quite soaked in sweat and nearly teary-eyed with want. But you’re fucking soaked. 

“Did you eat them too?” He asks, voice laced with want—he’s desperate for a taste of you, and allows himself a moment to swirl his tongue around your clit as your eyes widen in response. 

“No… I just—fuck, Choso, right there.”

You could kill him for pulling away from you, your wetness glistening on his pretty lips as he pouts at you. “Need you. I’ll make you feel so good, I promise, and I’ll eat you after I just…”

“Fuck me, Cho,” you allow him, partially because you don’t think you could go much longer without his length completing you. 

“I love you,” he whines as he rights himself and slaps his cock against your pretty pussy a few times before pushing into you with a gasped “I love you I love you I love you.”

And it might be the raw intimacy speaking on your behalf but you swear you can feel his love through the way he fills you with his cock. You’re two halves of a whole and finally conjoined through overwhelming pleasure… the stretch is uncomfortable, sure, Choso has a length he doesn’t know how to handle, but you don’t care when the way he practically drools once he bottoms out is so desperate. 

And god does it feel good when he starts to move. He’s so eager and desperate that rather than the gentle thrusts he usually makes to test the waters of your comfort, he’s straight into rutting against you like he’s in heat—which, in a way, you guess he is. 

Choso pulls your thighs up between the two of you and works himself into a mean mating press that has him reaching depths inside of you he’s never kissed with the tip of his cock. He can hardly see straight, pussy drunk already and babbling away about how good you feel wrapped around him, how he’s yours, all yours and always yours. 

“All for you,” tears prick at his eyes the closer he comes to his fourth or fifth climax of the day—the sun hasn’t even begun its descent. “My cock is for you, my cum, my heart—I’m all yours I belong to you, please take me, god you take me so good.”

He’s crying. Desperation stains his cheeks as he distracts himself from the hot tears by kissing you with trembling lips as he tries to push impossibly deeper into you. Your legs ache, you’ve never been split open so deep and you’re not sure you’ll ever stop grieving the loss when Choso finally pulls out of you. 

You don’t think you’ve ever cum this fast either, but the moment Choso starts holding his breath and knitting his eyebrows together as he does when he’s about to finish, you feel that wave of dizzying euphoria wash right through you—from head to toe you’re hit with pleasure like waves crashing on the shorelines, and you shake underneath your lust-drunken lover. 

“Oh baby,” he fucks you through it, chases his orgasm so strong it hurts, tightens his balls and makes him wonder how he’s not cumming dry yet. “Feel so good, I’m sorry I know it’s a lot I’m sorry, I love you I love you.”

It’s a blur, but you feel full with his cum and never do you want him to pull out. You think you’re still shaking, but Choso has you fucked so deeply into the mattress that you wouldn’t be able to tell even if you had the energy to care. He’s still twitching inside of you, each minor movement sends static up your spine. You might’ve just seen heaven, you think. 

And with a shaky breath, and pupils so dilated with need he looks high, Choso presses a wet kiss to your lips, pulls back and in as sorry of a tone he can muster:

“Im sorry, baby, I need more.”

kinktober tags: @medusamara5 @echodead @curiositykilledthecatx3 @hirainne

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@rumi-rants @dysphoricsanity @coolcephalopod @satoruslxt @xoxo1mira

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@veraiku @niinistudies @jexx233 @logoleptic-since-06 @kirishimasboobs

@samaraxmorgan @sweetsformysoul @uranosbaaee @angeleen777

@xixflower @alifromtheotherworld

[deathbxnny]

Arcane women seeing you again after cheating on you. | Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika x Gn!Reader

(Part 1)

Here is the part 2 that you guys asked for! I hope you'll like it!<3

Summary: Arcane women see you after they cheated on you a year ago. How will you react to seeing them again? And most importantly, who's that person you're with that seems to have stolen your heart from them?

Content: TW!Past cheating, angst, jealousy, swearing, probably ooc, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VI

She never got over you.

It didn't matter how much time passed or how long she spent trying to forget you. You were always there at the forefront of her mind. And it drove her mad, not to know where you were. She looked all over for you after the mission, yet it seemed like you had disappeared off the face of earth, never to be seen again even during the war. Vi couldn't even find you in the aftermath of it, her heart empty and broken without you.

Her relationship with Caitlyn was practically non-existent now, as the woman felt near insecure of Vi's idealistic image of you she could never compare to. It was depressing and toxic until it eventually blew up in her face, and the Kirammann distanced herself as well for good.

And now the woman was alone.

Your words rang true, and yet you weren't even here to tell her, "I told you so". She had lost everyone she loved, being driven mad by the solitude she had brought onto herself. It was unfair and unjust, even if some of it was deserved. Just some. Eventually, the sadness turned into anger over the last year. Anger towards you. Why couldn't you be here after what happened? Why didn't you understand that it was a mistake? Hadn't she atoned for her sins enough? What else did she have to lose for you to come back? Rage, frustration, irritation. It all plagued her, as she thought of how your meeting would go if she ever sees you again.

But nothing she ever prepared was enough for when it did happen. She never thought it would. She never thought she'd see you again. And yet there you were, happily holding onto another person's arm, as you beamed up at them. You never looked like that with her. You were never this bright and giggly at her side. There was always something to be stressed about. There was always something to argue about. There was always something that made you frown around her. Whether it was because of the circumstances you were in or her own actions, you were never content.

So she stood there, in the shadows, as she gazed at you intensely from under her hood. For a moment, she considered just turning and leaving, but the internalized rage was bubbling up dangerously. She lived with survivors guilt every single day, and you go to have your happy ending? She couldn't believe it. She couldn't ever dream of you moving on from her. Marching up to you, your partner saw her first before you did, their eyes hardening protectively. Pulling you closer, they stood unmoving in the face of doom. "Can we help you?" They asked when she was close enough, but her words died on her tongue when your eyes met hers. And then there was deafening silence.

"I..." "Vi. What the hell do you want?" You hissed out, clearly not having it. You were sick of her after what happened. You, therefore, refused to let her wedge herself into your life ever again. "Actually, I don't care. Get lost." You tried pushing past her with your partner, but she wasn't moving. Instead, she blocked your way. "Please just... hear me out! I've lost everyone whilst you're out here fucking around with some randoms! Do you know how long I've looked for you? How much I've suffered?" You stopped your lover from saying anything with a hand against their chest. You can handle this.

"And I get that I fucked up! But don't think that you're completely innocent in this either." She was breathing heavily, the slightest smug relief filling her at finally saying what she had always dreamt of... but alas, you gave her the most unimpressed look possible as you scoffed. And then you began laughing. Right in her face. "Hah... that was funny... anyways, as I was saying, get lost." Finally being able to push past her, you two casually continued doing your shopping as though nothing happened.

She was left behind in shock at your uninterested reaction, as the realisation finally set in that she truly has lost everything.

》CAITLYN

The aftermath of the war was nothing short of agony to everyone, especially to Caitlyn, who had yet to find a trace of you. Last she heard, you left the city via skyship and disappeared into the blue skies forever, leaving her behind for good. It was miserable to live without you, near unbearable, and yet she kept it together with the smallest hope for your return to her.

It was pure delusion to everyone but her to hold onto such a ridiculous wish, considering she was the cause of it.

She lies awake at night thinking of your heartbroken gaze, the memory, and the words lulling her to sleep in tears. And a year later, the day of your disappearance felt as vivid as ever, as though no time passed. She could never move on. Never rest for as long as she couldn't tell you about how remorseful she felt. You were right in not trusting Maddie for a multitude of reasons. But she was so stuck in her ways due to the grief and pain that she lost the best thing that happened to her. The one person that kept her together and sane.

How was she ever going to live on now?

Whenever she did sleep, she dreamt of you coming back to her, allowing her to apologize and move on from everything she had done. It was perhaps selfish, and she was at least self-aware enough to acknowledge that, but it didn't matter to her in the long run. She just wanted you back no matter what. It didn't matter how or when. She just had to have you. And as though the gods momentarily heard her prayers, a small part of her wish finally came true after twelve long months of waiting.

There you were, under the sparkling lights of the ballroom, happily conversing with long-lost friends as you sipped on a refreshing drink. She had heard the rumor of your return a while ago, skillfully ignoring the part mentioning your unknown companion, and made sure to attend this grand event best dressed, of course.

If you saw her, then you didn't turn to even glance at her once.

She understood why but wouldn't let the opportunity to fix things slip out of her fingers now. You were so close. So unbearably close at last. Cait approached you carefully, a simple clearing of her throat being enough to drive your company away for some privacy. And you were clearly not happy about that. But as usual, she ignored your disdain for her own gain unknowingly. "It's nice to see you again." She was hiding how excited she was, practically bursting at the seams with how hard she was containing it. Your reply was less thrilling, however. "Unfortunately so... I have nothing to say to you, so leave me be, lest my partner has to see you out." You huffed, a frown hiding behind your glass.

Dumbfounded and blinking, she raised a brow in surprise. Partner? Were the rumors true after all? She was in denial. Very deep denial at that. She must be hearing it wrong, yes, that's it! "I... I beg your pardon? Partner? As in companion or...?" She must've looked silly and disheveled as she stumbled over her words like a drunk. A hand pressing against her shoulder made her pause, as she felt a very irritated presence behind her. "It seems that the wine is getting to you, Ms. Kirammann. I believe it is, therefore, time for your departure. The car's outside." Your dearest partner has come to your rescue. And it seemed that this was a setup for your own small revenge.

Your lover owned this estate. It completely slipped Caitlyn's mind in her haste to get to you. How funny.

You hid in their side, wanting her out already, and the Kirammann decided to keep the last of her dignity intact by leaving with a curt nod. She definitely cried in the cab, though, unable to complain that all her waiting was for nothing.

You were never coming back to her.

》SEVIKA

If you fuck around, you'll certainly also find out.

That was your life motto, something you lived by and your enemies feared about you. Sevika often found it amusing to watch you enforce this to those willing to face your wrath, a certain pride welling in her chest at the pure violence you could display. Until she became the receiver of it. The scar on the back of her head proved it and left a bit of a bald patch, a constant reminder of what she had done. Also, a great humiliation tactic on your end, she has to give you that.

But that's all she had left of you too.

You up and left without a trace a year ago, and made sure she'd never see a glimpse of you again. The war came and ended, resulting in her becoming a councilor, but even then, nothing she did drew you back to her. You were supposed to share this glory with her, but she knew she was the reason why you didn't. She wasn't delusional or in denial about it. No, she was a grown woman who just made a stupid mistake, in her humble opinion. Nothing more or less. So why couldn't you see the same?

It was impossible to track you down, and for a while, she thought that you may have left the city entirely a while ago. Maybe you even died in the war somewhere. She didn't know what was worse, but either thought kept her up up night to ponder about all the what ifs.

If she hadn't done what she had done... would you still be laying at her side sound asleep? Would you be proud of her and support her for finally achieving her goals? Would you praise her? Love her? Cherish her so loyally like you used to? You were absolutely right in the end, after all. She never will and never wanted to find someone else like you. She wanted you and only you from day one, but it all seemed like a distant dream now.

And then, when she was just about to move on from you by force, you appeared in her life again so casually. You were dressed in foreign clothes, a content and sweet look on your face, as you conversed with your partner, who just so happens to be an emperor of a different land.

They have come here for some trade negotiations with the council, and of course, you had to come along. Their sweet, stunning spouse they couldn't talk enough of. Your partner spoke of the riches they spoiled you with, the endless servants at your feet, the way they too were very clearly wrapped around your bejeweled fingers.

You pretended not to know her, practically avoiding her gaze as you held onto your lover tightly as they talked away. God did it hurt her, too. She was burning up in jealousy, her gaze hardened and angry enough to make the other councilors scoot away from her.

And when she saw your partner give her an evil, knowing grin, she finally realised that this was all on purpose. Your spouse couldn't give less of a shit about Piltover. They just wanted to get back at Sevika for what she had done to you, just out of pure spite. She can't do anything about it either, something she acknowledged in defeat.

Her heart was empty and broken, but she'd never admit it, as she simply concluded the meeting and took her leave. If you were happy... then she supposed she'd be content with it, too.

[suhkusa]

OPEN ARMS.

PAIRING. Bakugou Katsuki x f!Reader

CW. ALL CHARACTERS 18+, angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, childhood friends to fwb to lovers 0-0, he’s dumb, you’re dumb, feelings, smut but it’s not detailed, dubious consent, please let me know if i missed anything!

WC. ~2.8k

A/N. If you’ve seen this before no you haven’t!!! first time writing for mha :p

I.

The first time you fucked Bakugou, it was a mistake.

It was during your 19th birthday party, which he had thrown for you “out of the kindness of his heart”, he’d say.

You two clearly had too much to drink, but so did your friends around you. Too much where none of them seemed to notice as the two of you slipped out of the living room to his own room.

The first time with him was your first time at all.

And even then, even in his drunken stupor, he still handled you with care.

Despite his rough and unruly nature he usually displayed, he was gentle. It was a funny thought though, Katsuki Bakugou fucks gently.

“Are- you sure?”, he mutters, toying with the waistband of your panties.

You managed to slur out a weak, “mhm”, before he began to slowly slip off your clothes. One by one.

And even though it was gentle, it was messy. Each kiss is filled with saliva and teeth. Every thrust is hesitant but thorough. Everything was him.

When the time came and you two were lying in bed, chests heaving as your minds tried to catch up with your bodies. You had just fucked your childhood best friend.

The rest of the night was awkward as the two of you sobered up, yes. But when morning came, it was like nothing happened.

It was a silent agreement, never again.

——

II.

The second time you fucked Bakugou, it was by choice.

Though, not for the reason you thought it’d be.

“The hell are you at my door for? It’s 2 in the—”

“He cheated, Katsuki,”

His eyes met with your tear-stained face, his face dropping in realization.

“Shit,” he looked around before eyes locking back onto you, “c’mere you big baby,”

Bakugou’s arms opened before you fell into them.

His scent and touch are familiar. Somewhat nostalgic of the time you two were kids and he’d comfort you after beating up the boys who’d tease you.

“S’alright,” he muttered, “you know he was ugly as shit anyways,”

You cry more after he says that, knowing he was right, but still hurting more nonetheless.

“Sheesh,” he lets you go to lead you into his house.

Without his help, you make your way into his room, welcoming yourself to the warm blankets. You hog them to yourself, whining when he tugs them off.

“Don’t cry over him, he was a piece of shit, and I told you so,” he snickers, still with a comforting tone.

You sniffle, “I know- I know, it still hurts though,”

It hurts because it was your first relationship. It hurts because outside Katsuki, you’ve never put so much effort and trust into a person. And for it to be thrown away made you feel nothing but worthless. 7 months may not have been long, but to you it felt like eternity.

Bakugou rolls his eyes dismissively, knowing that little to nothing he could do would help, “you need anything?”

To this day, you don’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way he looked at you with care instead of his usual roughness, or the way your heart yearned for touch and comfort. Perhaps it was the way that even though, yes, Bakugou warned you about your cheating ex and you didn’t listen, he let his pride down and came to the rescue.

“You,”

“Don’t say that, freak,” he shrugs your words off as a joke, moving to get up, “I’ll be in the livi—“

Your hands move before your brain can stop it, latching onto his wrist.

“Please,”

Your teary eyes watch the cogs turn in his brain. Before you realize, he’s lifting your chin with a rough hand, bringing your lips to his. And before you can catch a breath, he’s onto you, taking you once again.

——

III.

The the third time you fucked Bakugou, you realize this would become a regular thing.

There was no heartache or liquor. There were two friends, lonely but still content, bored with nothing to do.

You don’t really remember what initiated it, or who, one moment you guys were watching the latest episode of that sitcom he showed you, and the next you were on top of him.

He lifted your hips and slammed into you, over and over until you couldn’t even think about how you got into this position. Until all of your senses were just filled with him, him, and him.

“You’re mine,” he grabbed at your chin, forcing you to look at him, “you hear me?”

In the heat of the moment, you gasp a loose, “yes,” before locking your lips with his.

Your body was hot and wet, and his words only ignited the flames in your stomach even higher before you couldn’t take it anymore, falling against him as your pussy convulsed around his length.

As your chest heaved against his, your mind cleared a bit, thinking back on his words.

His.

The concept of being his was a nice thought. Though you know you could never commit anymore. Especially to him. Bakugou’s your best friend, and your love for him would always be just that.

This is casual. It doesn’t have to mean anything. People have casual flings or friends with benefits all the time. It just so happens yours is with your best friend. You two were grown adults now, you both know well what you’re getting yourselves into. Best friends can fuck without feelings being involved.

Right?

——

VI.

The next couple of times you fucked Bakugou, you noticed a shift.

It was a subtle slow shift, it came in waves that only grew every time he touched you.

In the moment, it was great. Everything about it. The way he fucked, the way he cared for you. It was just a little bonus of your guys’ hangouts. You guys still do the things you would do before this whole arrangement started. Talk, gossip, eat food, sleep. And before you knew it, sex became a part of the routine.

And if you were being honest, you enjoyed it. It filled the hole that had been left by your ex. But now that you had gotten over him, it felt like you were about to burst at the seams by the whiplash Bakugou gave you.

You never gave a second thought to this arrangement you two had. It felt normal. You guys had always been this close. Through school, college, and even having your first jobs together. Of course, there were times you guys were apart, but even still you two managed to remain as close as ever.

After the first several times, you began to experience this weird feeling in your chest. You didn’t want to put a name to the emotion out of the fear it’d create more problems than you needed.

But you could only silence your heart for so long until it begins to boil over.

It was after the second round of the day. You’re dazed as you stare at the ceiling, legs sore, cunt aching.

You feel your throat get caught on itself as you try to make up the words to come out. It feels thick as you say it. Scared to know his answer, scared that this all could fall apart— that you’d fall apart.

“Why are we doing this?” you start, hesitant.

“Not sure,” he mutters, scrolling through his phone, “it’s fun?”

It’s fun. Yeah, maybe that was it. That phrase would simmer in the depths of your mind, constantly trying to convince yourself yes, this was fun. So much to block out the painful tinge you’d feel in your chest after every time you lie in bed together after having sex.

This was your childhood best friend. Bakugou Katsuki. Anyone could have him but he’s lying here with you. You realize the possibility of going back to how things were was slim. He’s not going to be that hard-headed, obnoxious friend you’d known since you were kids anymore. It’s gone past that boundary, and you’re scared to keep exploring the uncharted territory.

It’s then you realize that maybe this was a mistake after all.

——

VIII.

It’s the 7th— no, 8th? You’ve lost count. Nonetheless, it was this time that you realized you loved Bakugou Katsuki.

Perhaps you’ve always known this, just pushing all the emotions to the back of your heart and mind for the sake of the friendship.

But you knew all too well that those boundaries had been pushed too far. Time and time you told yourself that this was all okay, but it wasn’t. And it felt like you were slowly tearing yourself apart.

He was tearing you apart, but it was no one’s fault but your own.

The words he’s been using have been getting riskier and riskier. Toying with the romantic edge of things.

Bakugou was being rougher than usual, a bad day at work being the source. Though you didn’t mind, it felt good nonetheless. It’s rare for him to shock you with his words.

“Fuck,” he groans in your ear, “you’re beautiful,”

His words make you clench around him harder, egging you on to whimper in his ear.

“You’re too fuckin’ good— way- too good,”

His cock pummeled your insides and he thrusted into you relentlessly, praise raining from his mouth like an everflowing river.

“I want you— bad,” his grip on your hips tightens, and the telltale look on his face tells you he’s about to finish.

“I fuckin’ love you,” he murmurs lowly as he cums, so low you barely miss it under your own soft gasps. So low you weren’t even sure you heard it right.

Tears begin to prick at your eyes, what an asshole.

Your insecurity gets the best of you so you just pull him tighter to your body in response to whatever he said.

His words poke and prod at your heart. It feels good to hear it. But it hurts worse knowing it’s the sex talking. It’s the frustrations from work talking. It’s all fake. It’s all talk. No meaning or emotion to back it up.

Bakugou doesn’t even realize it, but he’s encouraging you and your feelings for him. And you don’t know how much more you can take.

——

I.

It was the first time that Katsuki fucked you, he realized he loved you.

You were a constant in his life, and while you were annoying at times, you were always there, even the times where he was shitty towards you.

Katsuki knew you were pretty, always have been— even when the two of you were kids and you’d have mud and dirt all over your face after tussling with him.

But especially now you were gorgeous. Glossy-eyed and so vulnerable underneath him. It was as if he forced himself to sober up, just so that he could remember this moment.

He knew it was selfish to act upon his own desires, and so he asked,

“Are- you sure?”

Everything about you was pretty, his eyes fixated on your lips as you muttered a sweet “mhm”.

Katsuki wishes he had photographic memory so he could remember and cherish every second of it.

He knew this couldn’t happen again. The relationship you two already had was too good for him to let his personal feelings interfere. And he was okay with that. He had his own things to worry about.

There were too many things going on in his life. And even if you wanted him (the chances are slim), he doesn’t know if he’d be able to give you what you needed or wanted. He liked being friends with you for so long because you made everything so easy. He didn’t want to ruin what you had because of his stupid, selfish feelings.

But for now, he’ll indulge in himself. Just this once.

It was the first time that Bakugou Katsuki fucked you that he realized, for him, this wasn’t a mistake.

——

X.

This time would be the last, you told yourself.

You’d let yourself fall into him once more. Let him hold you once more. Be with him once more. And then you’d call it quits. You’d force yourself and him to go back to how things were. No matter what.

You want him, but that’s all it could ever be. And you couldn’t want him. He’s your best friend. The only love you should’ve ever had for him was platonic, but circumstances you forced upon yourself changed that.

You’re able to tell when he’s in the mood. He looks at you daringly with his ruby eyes, and gets touchier. It’s barely ever sudden with him, he eases you into it.

“Katsuki…” you whisper, weak to his touch as he slips his hand under your shirt and straight to your breasts.

“Mm,” he responds, lips already meeting with the soft skin of your neck.

It takes all of you, and you mean all of you, to force the words out of your mouth. You knew you didn’t want to mean it, you’d let him take you as many times as he pleases. But you had to mean it. Because it hurts. Too much.

“I can’t— We can’t do this anymore,” the words fumble a bit, you’re a bit embarrassed and wish you could take it all back.

He freezes altogether, and it scares you.

Bakugou sits back, removing his hand and lips from you before looking in your eyes.

His eyes search your face, lips looking like he’s searching for something to say. You don’t even know what to say.

“I— alright,” he says in a somewhat defeated tone. “Are you okay?”

No.

“Y-yeah, it’s just, weird, you know,” he looks confused at your words but agrees nonetheless. “You’re my best friend and I love you, we just… can’t,”

“No yeah,” is all he says before he sits back in his place on the couch, “I love you, too, I understand,”

You’re scared. His calmness is anxiety driving. Did you really not matter that much? Was the intimacy so easy to let go of? Your heart is breaking, you can feel it. It hurts.

You want to leave, you need to. It’s overwhelming and the silence is drowning. The TV plays in the back but all you hear is silence and all you see is him. It’s too much, you need to-

“Y/N,” you snap your head up at his voice, he’s closer, his hand is reaching out to you, “what’s wrong? You’re crying,”

A rough thumb pad swipes at the tears that had escaped without your knowledge. And the dam breaks.

Bakugou’s eyes widen and he pulls you in to embrace you, “you on your period or what?” He's joking, but you can tell he’s genuinely questioning you as to what the hell happened.

“You, it’s you,” you sob into his chest, and it’s so embarrassing. Shame spreads across your cheeks and body, and you babble nonsense.

“I love you, and it hurts,” you cry, “Fuck, I ruined everything,”

You can’t stop.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki, I ruined it, I ruined us. I was selfish,”

Your mouth is moving on its own.

“I can’t just fuck you and— and be just friends with you, it’s too much,”

You choke on your words, they’re heavy as they come out, fighting against the saliva that builds in your mouth.

“I want you,”

His words startle you. They’re sudden, and cut off whatever else you were about to say. He’s genuine. You can tell by the underlying softness of his voice.

“Are you an idiot? I wouldn’t— fuck,” his grasp around you gets tighter.

“I don’t fuck just anybody,” Bakugou says, “I feel like I’ve told you that,”

“But— that one time-”

“That was my girlfriend at the time, dipshit,”

You sniffle at that, and he realizes you’re still vulnerable.

“Sorry, I just,” he releases you a bit, eyes locked on you, “I love you, have for a while,”

Your jaw drops a bit at that.

“Feelings are just too complicated, you’re too complicated. I didn’t want to break whatever we had, y’know?,” you can tell he’s struggling, “but it became routine, and I was selfish and didn’t want to stop,”

“You’re sappy,”

“Shut it,” he snaps, pinching your side and earning a yelp from you. “Don’t cry, got it? I want you just as much as you want me,”

His thumbs wipe away the stray tears, “you’re such an idiot,”

“No, you are— you’re so mean, saying things you don’t mean to me,” you mutter, eyes meeting his own.

“I’ve never said anything I didn’t mean to you,” he states matter-of-factly. And you realize he’s serious.

You open your mouth to retort, to argue, but he catches you in a kiss before you’re able to. He’s warm and gentle, he’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

You feel yourself begin to tear up again, it doesn’t hurt anymore. But your heart is relieved and feels as though a heavy weight had been lifted off of it. It feels free.

It’s this time where you’re about to fuck Bakugou Katsuki that you realize it was always going to be him, and perhaps those times were never mistakes after all.

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Class clown

class clown gyu who for some reason has it out for nerd!reader and finally she gets sick of it and puts him in his place. warnings: dom!reader, sub!gyu, handjob, blowjob, dirty talk, pathetic gyu as always

"What is your problem?" You snap at Beomgyu, the class clown and the bane of your existence. He is always on your case, making fun of you in front of everyone. Today you made a mistake answering the proferssor's question and he immediatley jumped on it, humiliating you in front of the entire class. "Why do you have to mess with me?"

"Because you're fun to mess them." He answers simply, a huge infuriating grin on his face. You look really funny when you're angry."

You don't know what came over you, you're not usually a violent person but seeing his stupid cocky face makes you lose it and you shove him against the wall, slamming your hands on either side of his head to trap him in. "Do I look funny now?

But to your chagrin, he keeps grinning, not phased one bit. "Kinda."

You're so frustrated you could cry. There was nothing you have ever thought of or done that got him to leave you alone. He has been doing this to you for years, even back when you were at school. In fact you had been so excited to go to uni just to escape him, only to see his stupid face at your first lecture and your entire dream of escape came crashing down.

"What? The smart mouth finally has got nothing to say?" He goads when you stay quiet too long for his liking.

Your vision turns red. He makes you so frustrated and pent up, you would do anything to shut him up. Maybe that's why you resorted to doing something crazy.

Grabbing his face, you push your lips against his, intending to strong-arm him into silence. After all if his lips are busy, he can't mouth off anymore.

You don't know how you expected him to react to that--freeze in shock? Push you off? Call you crazy? You don't know but you certainly didn't expect him to almost immediately start kissing you back. It threw you off so hard you actually pull away from the kiss yourself.

But as soon as you pull back, he's running his mouth again. "Damn, nerd, looks like your mouth is good for somethjng other than eating the professor's ass."

"You're so fucking.. ugh!" You groan, shutting him up again. But this time you don't just use your mouth, instead you raise his shirt up, feeling up his body to his nipples and grabbing them between your thumbs and index fingers and pulling on them a bit roughly, making him gasp and break away from the kiss with a wet smack.

"Oh god," He groans, eyes fluttering as you roll his nipples between your fingers.

"You like that, brat?" You spit, happy to finally be getting the upper hand for the first time in your years of being tormented by Beomgyu.

"Fuck yeah." He groans and tries to reach out to touch your own tits.

"Don't fucking touch me, brat." You hiss at him, "If you touch me, I stop."

"You're being such a killjoy." He protests but it's hard for him to keep a steady voice when your fingers are playing with his clearly sensitive nipples like that, and even more so when one of your hands slips into his loose pants to palm his already very hard cock.

"You look like you're enjoying it enough." You mutter, twisting your hand up to the head of his cock, making him moan out.

"Fucking hell...Are you gonna fuck me?" He asks bluntly.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Gyu?" You ask, and any hesitency over the unfamiliar nickname vanishes as he shudders under your touch.

"If you're going to be handling my cock like that then I damn well expect to get a fuck out of it." He replies, still insolent despite his whimpering and frankly slutty moans.

"You're such a little bitch." You chastise, focusing your strokes on the head of his cock, aiming for maximum damage. "You think you deserve to get anywhere near my pussy after the shit you've pulled over me for years?"

He shrugs, trying to affect nonchalance but it's hard to but he's panting like a bitch for you. "Maybe if you get fucked good, you'd be a little less uptight.

Uptight! Just because you care about your future, that doesn't make you uptight. God, you hate him... but damn, does he looks fucking hot falling apart in your hands like that.

"And maybe if you were getting any attention on your cock apart from your own hand, you wouldn't be such an attention seeking slut." You jeer, getting down on your knees. "Now shut the fuck up or you won't get to cum at all."

"What--" He doesn't have time to formulate his question before you pull his pants down and wrap your mouth around his cock, sucking any retort right out of him.

"Oh, fuck, that's it." He arches his back, driving his cock further down your throat which you readily take, to his surprise.

"Fuck, where did you learn to suck dick like this?" He asks through his moans but you don't bother to answer him. You don't owe him an answer, you just want to shut the bitch up.

But Beomgyu is incapable of shutting up. "Have you been sucking dick on the down low? I didn't know the nerd is such a big slut. Thought you were a good girl."

You detach from his cock to retort, tearing a whine out of him which the idiot is too stupid to realize he is the cause of. "You're one to talk. Look how loudly you're moaning as soon as you get your dick wet. What? No one wants to fuck such a loudmouth?"

"Fuck you." He mutters, and you laugh. "You wish, baby." You smirk, bobbing your head down his cock again, going ruthlessly fast and getting the brat to writhe under you.

You think that would be the end of it but Beomgyu could die and his mouth would still be running. "Seriously, who are you fucking? Taehyun? Soobin? Don't tell me it's that manwhore Yeonjun?"

You pull off his dick in frustration, using your hand to jerk him off roughly instead. "Why do you fucking care who I fuck?"

"I don't care." He huffs, arching his back to push his cock further into your grip. "I just know they can't be fucking you good if you're still so uptight all the time. If you want a good time, I could give you the time of your life."

You burst out laughing, obviously bruising the boy's ego in the process but you don't care. And you don't even bother hiding your incredulity. "You? Do you even see yourself? I'm barely even moving my hand and you're fucking it like a dog in heat. Your dick is drooling all down my arm. You look like you're a few pumps away from creaming yourself. I don't think you'd even make it one stroke inside my pussy before you pop like a virgin."

"No, I'm not." He denies, trying to keep his hips still, clearly fighting with himself. "I can fuck you so good you'll screaming my name."

"You can? You can take hot, tight pussy until I cum? You can have me clench around your needy cock without emptying your balls inside me?" You reach your other hand out to cup his balls, massaging then gently between your fingers, making him suck in a shuddering breath. "You can hold back your hot cum until I'm ready to milk your cock? You won't just break and spurt your cum inside me as soon as you put it in?"

"Fuck, fuck, slow down." He gasps, trying to squirm away from your touch but you hold him tighter, jerking him off steadily.

"Why? Are you going to cum just from my hands? That's disappointing. I thought you wanted to give me the fuck of my life?" You cock your head to side, staring up at him condescendingly, making him shudder.

"Baby, please, slow down?"

"Baby?" You laugh. "Now I'm baby?"

"I can't take much more." He was jerking uncontrollably in your grip but you never let go, taking the hand on his balls off to press it against his lower tummy to hold him in place as you continue jerking off his now very red and slippery cock.

"Are you gonna cum?" You ask again and he nods, biting onto his lip harshly. "Yes, can I?"

You have to say you were taken aback at him suddenly asking for your permission to cum. You would have thought the brat would just do it with no warning. "Aw, baby is asking for permission to cum? If I knew it was this easy to get you to behave, I would have... well, actually I still wouldn't have touched you any sooner. But it's good to know how pathetic you really are."

"Fuck you." He repeats, voice strained in his effort to still hold back.

"You want me to say you can cum?" You tease, twisting your hand over the length of his cock slowly.

He nods. "Yes. Need it. Need it."

"Are you going to be good to me from now on?" You ask and he shakes his head. "You're too fun to tease."

"You are too." You counter, slowing your hand down, making him thrust his hips to try to get more of your touch so you smack his thigh in punishment. "Down, boy!"

"Baby, please!" He begs so sweetly, pining you with his pretty, brown eyes, his dick drooling in your grip.

"Are you going to be good from now on?" You tighten your grip around him as you deliberately move your hand up the entire length of his cock, feeling his precum dripping down your arm.

"Yes, yes, I'll be good. I'll be so good." He babbles, and you know he is lying his ass off, just wanting to say whatever would get you to let him cum, but even that makes you feel so fucking hot. To have that effect on your tormentor after all these years is a fucking head rush.

"God, you're a mess." You mutter, quickening your pace over his cock, making Beomgyu panic. "Wait, wait, can I cum? Can I cum?"

It's a little precious how much he panics over cumming without your explicit permission, so much so you decide to just give it to him, wanting to see the brat completely lose it in your grip.

"You can cum, brat." As soon as you utter the words--as if he was really waiting for them--he explodes, spurting rope after rope of cum down your arm and onto your chest.

"Thank you. Thank you, baby." He cries, emptying himself for you until he can no longer hold himself up anymore and collapses to the ground by your side.

But to your surprise and mild horror, Beomgyu takes a minute to calm himself down before he grabs his own cock and strokes himself to full hardness again, bearing through the pain of overstimulation for a reason that only becomes apparent to you after you ask, "What the hell are you doing, Beomgyu?"

"I promised I can fuck you good, didn't I?"

He really is insane.

____________________

[menagerofmischief]

shrimp cocktail, cold appetizer, lobster, coca-cola, yes dessert, served by oscar piastri

Dia's Diner Menu

shrimp cocktail rivals to lovers cold appetizer rough sex lobster "I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy" coca-cola somnophillia dessert aftercare

Oscar Piastri x Ferrari!driver!reader

TW: one bed trope, unprotected sex (wrap you willy please), sleep dry humping

WC: 2k

A/N: I enjoyed writing this one a lot. Also I wanted to say I'm so thankful to all of you that sent requests and that I can't wait to write all of them but you'll maybe have to be patient with me because I'm a student and am pretty busy with school. I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one.

Some bigger force, God or karma or fate or whatever else there is, was definitely out to get me. Because this had to be the worst fucking night of my life. I’m not being dramatic when I say that.

Why was this the worst night of my life?

We just made it to Singapore for the upcoming Grand Prix and went straight to our hotel. The whole grid was staying at the same place since it made things more convenient. I go up to the reception to check in and get the key to my room, all but ready to collapse into the mattress and sleep the jet lag off. 

“I’m so sorry Miss,” the receptionist says, tapping her fingers against the keyboard, glancing up at me every few seconds. Finally she looks up, her expression apologetic. “It seems there was a mistake with the booking and we double booked your room.”

I fight off the urge to groan and roll my eyes, instead plastering a smile on my face. “It’s fine, it’s not that big of a deal. Just put me in whatever room is available.”

She makes a face, looking down at the computer again and then returning her gaze to mine. “I really am sorry but there are no other rooms available right now.”

Now I really did groan. “Fantastic. Can I know who the other person occupying the room will be?”

Before the receptionist had the chance to answer, my worst nightmare in human form came up to the desk, standing right next to me. “Hello. I’m here to check in - it’s under Oscar Piastri.”

The woman - I finally glanced at her name tag, seeing her name was Alice - looked between us, then down at the computer before looking at us again. “Sir, as I was just explaining to the lady here, the hotel double booked your room by accident.”

“It’s fine just put me in a -”

“There’s no available rooms.” I cut him off. “Just the one.”

Oscar looked at me, narrowing his eyes. McLaren’s golden boy, affectionately nicknamed ‘the polite cat’ by the fans was the biggest thorn in my side for a long while now. Everything started back in F2 with our on track rivalry which grew with each race. Then I signed into F1, fulfilling my childhood dreams of racing in red and thought I escaped him. I thought too soon apparently because after my announcement post, his followed soon and I was once again back on track with him.

Did I have a reason to hate him? Absolutely! Was it awfully petty and possibly over-dramatic? Very likely. It was my first race in F2, I was about to finish P2 it was amazing. Then he crashed into me and drove us both into the wall, causing us both to DNF and lose out on a podium.

We have hated each other ever since.

“It’s okay - we’ll share.” Oscar’s voice brought me out of my thoughts, quickly turning my head to look at him.

“What!?”

Oscar took the key from Alice and dangled it in front of me, a smirk on his face. “I said we’re gonna be bunking.” He pulled the handle of his suitcase, “Come on then, Y/n”

✿ ✿ ✿

“You stay on your side of the room,” I said, putting the chair in the middle of the room to make it a half marker. “And I’ll stay on mine.” The one queen size bed would definitely be a problem as well, but one I would mention later.

“And how are you gonna go the bathroom since it’s on my side?” He asked, his voice holding a teasing tone.

“Bathroom if free ground, hallway too” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.

Oscar’s gaze dropped down, stayed for a few seconds and then his eyes met mine again. He hummed, “And if I wanna open the window then what? Since it’s on your side.”

“Don’t act smart,” I told him. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“You wound me!” He gasped, pressing a hand over his heart.

“Shame it’s not fatal.”

✿ ✿ ✿

This was definitely the weirdest night of my life.

With only one bed in the room, no couch and neither of us willing to put our body in uncomfortable positions sleeping on the chair or on the floor, night before practice - Oscar and I made an agreement to share the bed.

One of the extra blankets from the closet was bunched up and put down the middle of the bed separating the two us. Not that it served much purpose considering that it was kicked down and off the bed while we were sleeping.

I woke up, rubbing my eyes to adjust to the dark and then I felt it. The slow, yet desperately feral rolls, the pressure and the pleasure. I had to press a hand against my mouth to stop myself from moaning, taking in deep harsh breaths through my nose.

I came to a realization about three things, so goes:

Oscar had moved a bigger part of his body onto my side of the bed.

He had pulled me close and caged me in his arms sometimes during the night.

He was grinding his very much hard cock into me -  in his sleep.

My cheeks were on fire and it felt like the rest of my body was too. The pajamas, which I purposely picked out because of how light they were, felt suffocating now.

I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was done, my body moving on its own. One leg pushing slightly forward, opening just enough space for Oscar’s hips to chase mine and my ass slowly barely grinding back into him.

I was enjoying this much more than I should have and it was wrong. God, it was so wrong. But when his erection was rubbing so perfectly against me, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I was wet, I knew I was. I could feel how soaked my panties had gotten and the uncomfortable feel of my slick underwear did not escape me. As the pressure increased I couldn’t help but let out a moan.

The noise felt deafening in the silent room and my eyes widened. Oscar’s body stilled and my breath caught in my throat, the dread of having woken him with my moans taking over me.

A moment passed, two moments passed. Then Oscar’s hands tightened around my body, pulling me even closer to him, my ass pressed just against the outline of his dick. One of his hands moved down my stomach, dipping into the waistband of my sleeping shorts and going straight down into my panties.

He ran a finger through my folds, coating it in my slick and it took everything in me not to moan. “You’re fucking dripping,” his voice in my ear made me freeze. Awake afterall. “This wet from me humping you? And here I thought you hated me.”

The pad of his finger touched my clit, a gasp falling from my lips at the pleasurable feeling. “Did you enjoy me rutting into you while I was sleeping, you dirty dirty girl?” He added more pressure, rubbing circles on my clit and this time I didn’t hold my moans back. “Woke up halfway through, when you started grinding your ass on me like a bitch in heat. You seemed so into it, I thought I’d just keep going.”

“Wasn’t,” I whispered.

“What was that?” He growled into my ear.

“Wasn’t grinding on you,” I said, through gritted teeth.

His fingers pinched my clit and my whole body surged forward, mouth falling open to let out a loud moan. “Don’t lie,” he said, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh don’t worry sweetheart, you will.”

Oscar pulled his fingers out of my panties, making me whine at the loss of friction on my clit. His chuckle vibrated through the room. He got up onto his knees on the bed, arms coming forward to grab my shoulders, and pulled me roughly so I was laying on my back.

I couldn’t help but look at him above me. His eyes were full of lust, pupils blown wide and cheeks red. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, he looked absolutely ethereal. 

“Tell me to stop,” he said, fingers hooking into the waistband of my sleeping shorts.

I held his gaze, a shaky breath falling from my mouth. “Don’t stop.”

In one move he pulled down both my shorts and my panties, throwing them behind him without a care. Then he took off his own shorts, followed by his boxers - that ended up being thrown somewhere too. He pulled me up enough to take my top off, and then pushed me down again, leaving me completely bare. 

Oscar leaned over me, his mouth drawn in a smirk, his breath hot on my face. “Tell me not to kiss you.”

“Kiss me,” I whispered. He didn’t waste a second, as soon as the words were out of my mouth he was surging forward, his lips pressing harshly against mine, tongue pushing into my mouth. He pulled slightly back, my lip caught before his teeth and he gently bit down, making me whine into his mouth.

“Fuck me,” I panted into his mouth. “Please just -”

I didn’t get to finish what I was saying as he pushed himself into me fully in one go, making me scream. His hand pressed against my mouth, muffling the noises I was making. “Do you want to wake the whole hotel up?” He asked as he began thrusting, pulling himself out until only the tic was still in me and then forcefully pushing back in again. “Some people came here to sleep, not to listen to you moaning like a whore on my cock.”

His other hand went between us to rub my clit. I was practically sobbing as he worked his fingers in fast circles around my clit while roughly thrusting into me. My vision was blurred with tears that were spilling from the corners on my eyes.

Oscar’s hand moved only a little, leaving room for me to speak but close enough for my lips to brush against his palm with each word. “Cum,” I babbled. “Gonna cum! Oscar, please!”

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice hoarse. “Gonna cum for me like a good little slut? Go on then - cum”

I came with a moan, wrapping my legs around his waist and caging him in. Oscar fucked me trough my orgasm, his own following. He twitched inside of me before cumming, painting my walls and making me whine at how full I felt.

He pulled out of me slowly and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. After a moment he returned with a wet, probably warm, towel in his hands. He kneeled on the bed and gently spread my legs with his hands.

“Fuck,” Oscar groaned. “I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy.” His fingers dipped to collect some of his cum which had spilled out of me and was slowly dripping towards my ass, and pushed it back into me, causing me to gasp.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead and somehow my cheeks burned ever hotter. After he gently cleaned me up and terrorized me to drink water, he laid down in bed next to me and pulled my body into his, arms wrapping around me.

“Are you finally going to let me take you out to dinner?” He asked, his voice husky and breath hot against the side of my face.

I hummed, my eyes barely open and already feeling sleepy. “Don’t crash into me while I’m winning on Sunday and we’ll see.”

“That was one time!”

I chuckled, placing my hands over his hand on my stomach. “Yeah, I’ll let you take me out to dinner.”

Believe it or not this might have actually turned out to be one of the best nights of my life.

[ezisregrettinglifedecisions]

"He's reached the limit of what he's able to achieve" - James Vowles on Logan Sargeant being dropped from the team mid-season.

Excuse me???? What utter bullshit is that? There are no limits to what someone can achieve that can be set by someone else. It is up to that person to decide what they can and can't achieve.

That should be Logan's choice if he believes he's reached his potential, not a biased boss who has treated him like a science experiment on the effects of rushing f2 drivers into f1 and then watching them fall without being there to pick them up and instead laughing at them and leaving them behind.

And then comes along Franco Colapinto who is being treated in the exact same way. (Plus the added disrespect of spelling his fucking NAME wrong?!?! How the fuck does someone fuck that up so spectacularly?)

When is Williams and James Vowles going to stop this horrible cycle of fulfilling an f2 driver's hopes and dreams of driving in f1 only to drop them like they're something to be used when they don't fulfil their idea of what they want.

Franco has got 9 races and then what? As people are pointing out, Williams' seats are filled for a few years so what's going to happen to Franco? Will he just be discarded like Logan because there's very few ways for him to be able to stay in f1 and that's heartbreaking because they've given him a wonderful opportunity but hidden inside it the potential ruin of his f1 career.

Williams and Vowles have made a lot of mistakes when it comes to handling this situation and a lot of people are angry on behalf of the drivers they are fucking over with their frankly selfish choices.

I've reposted others posts on it and now I've finally spoken on it myself.

I'm heartbroken for both Logan and Franco. Williams can't seem to stop talking about it and instead of apologising for the handling of this, they are digging themselves deeper and deeper into a hole that's going to end up with so much criticism and anger so they need to get their shit together.

Anyways love to Logan and Franco, hateful vibes being sent to Williams, and Oscar and Alex keep being wonderful and supporting Logan. Their statements both highlight the bullshit that is being spouted right now and I'm glad Logan has people in his corner when he might not feel like it all of the time.

[vorfreudevortex]

just for you!

how the jjk boys handle christmas gift wrapping (headcanons, crack, fluff)

✧.* gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna, yuji, megumi, noritoshi, ino, inumaki, yuta

masterlist

satoru would think he's just sooo amazing at wrapping gifts, but in reality, they're just a complete mess. he buys super expensive paper, like the really thick ones with gold foil that don't rip. he does make sure to get whatever ribbon and bows match his paper, but they still fail to hide the fact that there is tape everywhere, mostly in places they don't even need to be.

suguru secretly loves wrapping gifts, and is pretty damn good at it. he's very meticulous and matches his paper with his bows and ribbons. he doesn't buy the most expensive paper, nor the cheapest, but somewhere in between. he does try to find clear tape to use instead of the white-ish kind as well.

kento is obviously the king of gift wrapping. he always buys the nice, thick wrapping paper with the lines on the inside so he can make sure his cuts are as straight as possible. he even makes sure to fold the edges of the paper over so the ends are neat. only uses double sided tape, because he wouldn't be caught dead with visible tape on the outside of the gift. his gifts could be taken straight out of a christmas store display case and you wouldn't know any better.

toji doesn't even try fucking around with wrapping paper anymore. he stuffs whatever his gift is into a gift bag and staples it closed. he's has been known to wrap gifts using newspaper or duct tape in the past. when he's the one unwrapping gifts, however, he is surprisingly careful. he doesn't tear the present open, but will pry open one side and slide the gift out to keep the paper intact.

choso tries really, really hard. he definitely watched a few youtube tutorials as well, but couldn't quite catch on. he buys his wrapping paper at any regular store, and only buys bows to put on the most expensive gifts he bought. the paper is gonna be crumpled for sure, you're going to be able to see every point where he messed up and refolded or retaped. the bows are always going to be slightly sideways, but it's endearing nevertheless.

sukuna will actually wrap presents even though he thinks it's stupid. there is tape everywhere and the paper isn't even properly folded, just pushed down wherever he needs it to be. he's grumbling and complaining the entire time. also, he makes uraume get him blood red wrapping paper. don't expect any bows.

yuji is actually pretty decent. he always gets fun and silly wrapping paper and only has to refold a couple of times. there's usually only a few imperfections, like an awkward extra fold somewhere or a small patched area where he mis-measured the size of his gift. he will draw a really bad doodle of whoever the gift is for directly on the paper with sharpie.

megumi gets straight to business with gift wrapping. he buys plain brown paper, but makes sure it's thick enough not to tear. there's minimal tape and mistakes, and the folding is always neat. yuji will ask why he didn't want to buy "jollier "wrapping paper, and megumi will respond with something like, "it's just the gift that matters."

noritoshi treats it like a formal ritual of some sort. the paper is always only one solid color without any fun patterns. his gifts are almost wrapped too perfectly, with double-sided tape hiding beneath the tightest folds. he might buy a ribbon or two to decorate the gifts he bought for the very few people he genuinely cares about. he knows wrapping paper produces a lot of waste but secretly enjoys these careless christmas festivities.

takuma is awful. it takes him hours just to finish wrapping a handful of gifts, just for them to look like he did them in 5 minutes. he made sure to buy thicker wrapping paper this year after tearing all the paper from last year to shreds in his attempts, but it doesn't help at all. there's somehow too little tape and too much tape, all in places they shouldn't be, and every bows is threatening to fall off. his cute, giddy smile when he hands out his presents make up for his lack in skills.

toge loves gift wrapping and does a pretty decent job every time. he makes sure to order goofy paper, usually something with sushi rolls or onigiri on it, even if he has to pay more and wait longer for them to be shipped. only messes up a few times and tries to use clear tape. he tags each person's gift with a different rice ball ingredient to confuse everyone, just because it's funny.

yuta is good at wrapping but overthinks everything. will buy a different pattern of wrapping paper for each person, and spends days on end thinking and rethinking about which one fits them best and if they will like it. he buys clear tape and loops it over to stick under the folds to make them neat, because he was so busy choosing paper that he forgot to buy double sided tape. will retie bows over and over until it's centered and symmetrical. he'll definitely get flustered and a little embarrassed when someone compliments his neat wrapping.

merry christmas and happy holidays!

© vorfreudevortex // all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, or repost my work.

[fatliberation]

Sorry for leaving this in your inbox, but I need to vent and ask for advice in a place where people won't mock me. What do you do when sex is super difficult because of your fat? I've recently gotten into my first relationship and. I thought I had a handle on my internalized fatphobia and self hate but this has made it worse than ever. We can't have satisfying penetrative sex (we've tried all the tips and workarounds. Nothing works. I'm larger than most of the FA community.), and recieving oral sex is also difficult for me. I also get tired and sweaty extremely quickly if I have to like hold up myself on mostly my arms or something, so he has to do most of the work. So sex is just. Mostly the one that works on repeat, and we don't have it very often because it isn't that fun for either of us, and it also makes me cry afterwards sometimes because of how disappointing it is & me beating myself up over it.

I'm genuinely worried my boyfriend is going to leave me for this. He's clearly very frustrated with the situation, even though he tries to be nice about it most of the time. Earlier today I tried to like be flirty and hint at stuff and he just. got a bit sad. and then said that clearly neither of us enjoy the sex we're having and that he has a lot of trouble staying hard.and that he doesn't see the point when we're both forcing it for no reason. I think he's going to break up with me soon. His ex is way lighter than me, so he's probably comparing the normal sex he had with her with whatever the fuck this abnormal shitshow is :/

All the work I've done on myself to be happy with being fat (including working up the courage to date, what a mistake that was lmao) is all gone. This has ruined my self-esteem so much. I feel like one of those fatphobic jokes but a person.

first and foremost, please try your best to remember this: your body is not the problem. one more time. your body is not the problem. I'm so very sorry you're concerned that your boyfriend would leave you over this. it sounds like he has a lot of preconceived ideas about how sex is supposed to go. I promise you that it doesn't have to be this way. if this is something that could really end the relationship, know that this person is not compatible or open to exploring your needs, rather than your needs being "too difficult." I promise it's him, not you. I know folks who are 600+ pounds who have excellent sex lives and partners who satisfy them and enjoy satisfying them. when someone starts treating your pleasure like a chore, that's just shitty. I know how much it hurts. it also does damage to your own openness to pleasure. when you're caught up in feeling like sex/your body is something that needs to be "fixed," nothing is going to feel sexy, because all that pressure puts stress on and takes you out of the mental state where you're able to experience pleasure. does that make sense? so many couples get stuck in this cycle.

there are so many ways to engage in pleasure without penetration or orgasm. there's a lot that goes into foreplay, setting a mood, making your partner feel appreciated and attractive. words and touch play a huge part in this. something as simple as exploring each other's bodies, not with the intention of reaching climax, but simply to be vulnerable and engage each others' senses. have your partner give you a massage. play with your hair. tickle your back with a feather. shower together. kiss you. compliment you. if either of you are into any kinks or dirty talk, that could be a great way to engage each other sexually without the pressure of "achieving" a goal. the goal here is just to feel good, close, and connected. societal messaging about sex has placed so much importance on orgasm instead of pleasure - when taking the time and space to relax and receive attention, is key.

feel free to check out my other posts on fat sex ed, there's lots of assistive toys that can make pleasure more accessible, but I think that should be a tool for later, since the biggest issue here is the pressure to perform. know that pleasurable sex can exist for you! but for now, I would recommend taking a break from sex altogether since it is not pleasurable for you right now. because pleasure is the whole point. forcing it is only going to feel worse. you do not owe it to your boyfriend, especially if it doesn't feel good and is taking an emotional toll. I hope you both are able to take a step back, reassess and communicate, and are able to reconnect and create a safe space to explore.

I understand why you're beating yourself up over this, I've been there too. but also know that it's just another societal standard that's been internalized (and it doesn't sound like your boyfriend is helping). like you said, you've done a lot to unlearn fatphobia. there's a lot of internalized beliefs we absorb from society surrounding sex, just like body image. I promise that there is nothing wrong with you. If your boyfriend takes his frustration out on you instead of making you feel safe to express your needs, then he's not a supportive partner. you deserve someone who takes delight in your pleasure and your body. believe me, we're out there.

[lovscb97]

synopsis: nerd!chan headcannons. that’s it. that’s the tweet.

tags: nerd!chan x cheerleader!fem!reader, fluff, meet cute, nerd!chan being in love, mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, nerd!chan being an inexperienced cutie, etc

wc: 1.48k

add. notes: while you guys wait for nerd!chan pt. 2 as i need to complete writing it and cannot really Do that w/ my current busy schedule (im nearing the end of first sem so i have lots of assignments #sad), i thought i’d treat u guys to some headcannons about him in the nerd!chan universe :3 enjoy!

part 1 / part 2 / drabble #1

. . . 

#one. meeting you for the first time

chan has always been a shy kid. he doesn’t stray from his introverted bubble of close friends that he’s either grown up with or gotten to know through extra-curriculars, nor does he ever participate in social activities like parties the way most people in his university do. it’s his firm belief that he has no means to engage in stuff that will, in his words, lower his intelligence and distract him from his studies. he’s perfectly content remaining the way he is; a social outcast (according to changbin at least), because at the least in that sense he’s gaining something from not wallowing in alcohol every other night.

you, on the other hand, are actively always taking part in gatherings as such, having fun with your cheer girls and drinking to drown out the bitter reality of life (although you’d never admit that out loud). it’s your firm belief that college is for letting loose and having fun before entering the corporate world, and what better way to do that than to grind against strangers and throw away all your responsibilities for a night (or ten)? you don’t have too much regard for your studies, but you do have a strong policy on your social life.

it’s because of these reasons that in terms of both hierarchy and hobbies, you and chan couldn’t be any more different. you’re two sides of two separate coins, and if you were to swap lifestyles, you’re sure neither of your friends would recognise you both. what he likes, you loathe, and what you like, he loathes. so why did you do mesh so well? why did you two even begin this charade? 

and how in the everloving fuck did chan even get to know you in the first place? 

it all started before the first day of the first semester. orientation was about to finish right around the corner, and everyone was obviously buzzing with excitement on commencing their first term in university. one guy made the mistake of mentioning throwing a party at some nearby club, and it quickly spread to the entire group of first year students. naturally, it spread to you and your friend group, and it also just happened to spread to the small circle of chan’s best friends, who dragged his ass to the party the day of despite his incessant complaining that he wanted nothing to do with what was happening.

that was, until he saw you.

you’d had one too many shots to drink, stumbling into the balcony after having been separated from your friends and coincidentally landing up where chan just so happened to be admiring the scenery. he’d caught you in his arms as you lost your footing, heart racing and ears reddening at the sound of your drunk giggles. “i bet you’re a ladies man.” you’d teased him, raising a finger to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, which only made him stutter even more. 

your friends eventually did come to find you and take you back with them, barely even batting an eye at chan who tried to make sure you were being cared for properly as his pleas and tips on handling a hangover the next day fell upon deaf ears. and when jisung and changbin came up to find him, he was completely out of it, stuck in a daze as he repeated all the random information about yourself that you’d rambled to him in his head. he’d pressed a single hand to his chest whilst ignoring his friend’s questions about what the hell he was doing, instead focusing on the feeling the rapid rhythmic beating of his heart under his palm.

it was that night, that chan's love for the moon transcended to his love for you.

#two. kissing you for the first time

chan is just as much of a nerd as they come in every cliche. 

when he met you, when he got to know you, and when he first began whatever twisted relationship he currently has with you, he was completely inexperienced. he knew next to nothing about pleasing a girl that wasn’t acquired from his knowledge of scouring the internet, and he also knew next to nothing about the world of pleasure he was in for. when you’d first leaned in to initiate a kiss, he’d merely pushed you away gently, gasping over his words as he tried to explain to you how new this was all to him.

but you didn’t mind. you didn’t mind that he’d never even gotten close to holding a girl’s hand unless he counted his elementary school crush, and you didn’t mind that he barely knew what to do with you. you didn’t mind that you had to teach him the ropes of everything (mostly because it fed into your corruption kink), and you didn’t mind it even when you had to reassure him you weren’t going to judge him as you got him to relax before leaning in once more.

and when your lips had touched his for the first time, chan swore he felt sparks fly. you were soft, and sweet, and real. instead of being a mere figment of his imagination or the skin of the back of his hand, your presence was electrifying. the way your mouth had moved against his, the way you’d let out a soft sigh at the feeling of it pressing back into him, and the way you’d pulled away and flashed him the prettiest smile he’d ever damn seen in his life before, it was all so dizzying. 

“you’re a pretty good kisser.” you’d winked at him afterwards, and he felt himself flush under your gaze which only made you double over in laughter. you’d even leaned in once more to plant another soft kiss on his lips before motioning for him to continue with whatever demand and supply topic he was teaching you about. chan didn’t give a fuck about that anymore though, the only thought on his mind the entirety of the rest of your study session how to get better at kissing you, and when he could look forward to doing it the next time.

#three. what he likes about you

if anyone asked chan what he likes about you, he’d be at a complete loss for words. not because there’s nothing he can come up with beyond superficial reasons, but because there’s too much that he has to say and isn’t sure of where to actually start.

chan isn’t even sure when he fell for you in the first place. yes, when he first met you that fated night on the balcony at that premature freshmen party he caught feelings for you, but those feelings snowballed and grew into something much larger as the days went on. each night was filled with replaying your conversation (although he barely spoke out of his shock upon seeing you) and wondering what it would be like to be in your presence once more. it got to the point that his friends began asking him why he was spacing out so much during classes and staring at one specific section of the lecture hall, but he didn’t have the courage to admit it was because of you sitting there. 

to simply put it, chan likes everything and nothing about you. he likes the fact that you’re nobody like he’s ever met before, you have a fire to yourself that nobody comes close to claiming, but you laugh sweet enough to extinguish that flame at the same time. something about you draws him in, tantalising and captivating in nature but all too consuming to the point he can’t get you out of his brain no matter how hard he tries. the time you came up to him to ask if he’d help you with tutoring, his mind almost short circuited because holy shit, were you actually talking to him in real life instead of the made up interactions he plays out with you before going to sleep? and you knew his name and who he was on top of that? it was too good of a dream to be true.

that’s precisely why chan can’t let go of you now. even if it hurts him, even if it’s painstakingly hard to be hidden from the public eye whilst being together with you, he doesn’t want to let go of you. because letting go of you entails that he’s giving up on his aspirations of being with you, and chan is nothing next to a quitter. he’ll have you in any way he can, even if that means not abiding by his friends’ requests to just let you go and being kept in the dark by your lack of confrontation for your feelings.

at the end of the day, chan is head over heels for you, and that’s something that’ll never change. 

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

[pricegouge]

got absolutely clobbered over the head with a pretty fucked up idea so now it's your problem. 1k

cw: poisoning! bit of a sick fic, but nothing gratuitous. munchausen by proxy, but make it (mostly) consensual.

He knows it's coming when Simon's hands shake, a near-imperceptible tremble only brought to John's attention by the way Simon's tea spills over the lip of his takeaway cup, stains the bone design printed on his fingers. Simon puts the cup on the counter, takes a half second too long to get the lid to catch on the rim properly.

"Best see to that," John warns him, already making contingency plans for their next potential mission, calculating where best his over-sized liability could fit. God forbid the man bench himself, though John's not one to talk.

Ghost just nods, the issue already taken care of. "Yes, sir."

Price figures he can get another month or so out of him, but circumstance makes liars of them both. A bad job gone worse, much of that expected month spent in the field. They're all just lucky it comes to a head while on base, some no-name sergeant the unsuspecting barometer for Simon's impending breakdown instead of a misplaced bullet.

The boy's come back from worse.

The first time - it had landed in his lap, honestly, a stomach bug that had torn the whole base apart, left grown, hardened men wilting into sick bowls and shaking in their sheets. The lieutenant had been stoic as ever, but John could see the glassiness of his eyes, the way his clothes had hung from him for weeks after. Docile, too. Or near enough. Too tired to be ornery, at least.

Put out of his mind for months, he let Ghost rebuild himself, pulling his pieces into place like armor. His intensity returned, a blessing just as much as a curse as John was generally the one left to handle all the formal complaints. It was easy enough, each log finding the bottom of the bin the moment the plaintiff left his office. Still, waste of time having to sit in on each meeting; to lend his ear to every up-and-coming private who was too dull to recognize where on the ladder of irreplaceable assets themselves and the lieutenant lie. Nearing the end of his rope, he made some glib comment about wishing the man would feel worse again soon and balked a bit when Simon just blinked at him, agreed it's always a good reset, being forced to take leave.

From anyone else's mouth, he'd have assumed the man was asking for time off, a pampered little vacation taken with the captain's approval. Guiltless, thoughts unassailed by the realities of international collusions. But Ghost submitted no reqs, just carried on steady as always.

Until he hadn't, a rookie mistake John prides himself on catching before it could make it too far.

"Need to be able to depend on ya, Simon," he'd chastised, his own frustrations bubbling over, anger unchecked because he knew Ghost could handle it, wouldn't shrink from him like so many others. "Should be able to trust ya with paperwork, at least!"

And Ghost didn't shrink. Swelled up instead, took on more roles, ran himself ragged.

"You're grounded," John had told him, let the double meaning sink in, embarrass the lad.

"Good luck with that, sir," the lieutenant had countered, shouldered his way onto the hele and tucked himself in between the sergeants just to spite him.

So he remembers. Tired and docile. Level headed after days of R & R.

He treats it like a mission, same as everything else. They're sick in the same way, like that. It gets easier with time, both of them settling into their roles. John's done it many ways, used backdoors he'd never realized he'd had access to in order to avoid Kate's persistent gaze as he researched, bought household cleaners he learned how to disguise the taste of. Simon had never been picky, could probably be served squirrel jerky without much complaint. But wariness is something else, stems from survival, and Price himself had helped to hone that instinct, made it iron-clad.

Simon noticed the fourth time. John's own fault, having him around for dinner. Too obvious about having cooked specially for him. Simon's dark eyes had settled on the plate for so long the meal had gone cold, vague chemical scent becoming more obvious by the second.

John never flinched. Not even when Simon's gaze flicked to him, a silent challenge.

"You need to rest, boy."

Entranced, he watched as something flicked across Simon's brow. Comprehension. Acceptance, maybe. The balaclava was rolled up, tucked over the ruined bridge of his nose, and Simon bore crooked, rotting teeth to tuck in, ate the whole plate in less than four bites.

They hardly bother with the pretenses anymore, not when John's just as tired as him. Not when they can't keep replaying the same game, the reputation of John's cooking at stake. It's better this way, the small vial he keeps in his desk providing a much more consistent outcome anyway. And he won't deny he enjoys the power Simon gives him, either: maw agape, tongue extended. He doesn't flinch when the syrup coats his tongue, although John knows how rotten it tastes - tried it himself just to be certain he could safely navigate Simon's limits, because he knows what Simon can take, even if the boy doesn't.

It starts with Simon on his knees, usually. A stream of apologies flooding from his mouth alongside the excess drool that puddles on Price's thigh. John shushes him with thick fingers, likes to feel the building convulsions in his throat from within.

He likes it best after Simon's worn himself out, lays sweat-stained and panting on his cot, mask long forgotten. Too tired to care. John keeps him hydrated, trickles water into his mouth from his finger tips, letting it pour over his palm. Simon takes whatever he gives - more syrup, even, if John deems it's needed. Trusts his judgment, trusts his captain to make him whole again.

They treat it like a mission, both sick like that. Know sometimes you have to go further than expected to get the results you want.

[schrodingers-monster]

I will die on the hill that Odysseus not killing Polyphemus was the correct choice actually. As clearly stated, to kill Polyphemus when he was unconscious would’ve trapped Odysseus and his men in the cave so he couldn’t have done it then, and afterwards it was revealed that there were more cyclops. although they left after Polyphemus said “nobody“ hurt him it would be reasonable to assume they would come back and aid Polyphemus if they heard the sound of fighting. That is of course not even mentioning the potential of losing more men to Polyphemus. After all he was a huge threat and they only managed to blind him once he was unconscious.

simply put, continuing to fight Polyphemus instead of retreating would be tactically what I’d call a really fucking bad decision. The only reason for odysseus to continue to fight would be for vengeance. They didn’t have to fear retribution when Polyphemus had no way to identify them visually and no names. So then why did Athena want Odysseus to kill him?

Because Polyphemus is Poseidon’s son and Athena and Poseidon fucking hate each other (see the naming of Athens and the creation of Medusa).

One could arguably say that the incident could actually be blamed on Athena, as before she talked to Odysseus it seemed like he was going to just take the sheep and leave but immediately after their conversation when emotions were running very high was when he told Polyphemus his name, status, and nation.

Was this incredibly fucking stupid of Odysseus? Yes. That was the mistake Odysseus made, not sparing Polyphemus.

that being said, Odysseus handled the entire incident very well other than that one mistake and I think it can be forgiven seeing as how he literally just watched one of his closest friends who he’d known since childhood be killed right in front of him. odysseus managed to hold it together long enough to formulate a plan to incapacitate Polyphemus, secure the sheep, and escape.

I would argue that Athena disrupted the delicate balance of remaining functional and making intelligent decisions by deciding to pursue her rivalry with Poseidon (and of course framed it as Odysseus being soft and stupid if he not only chose to prioritize the lives of those under his command over vengeance but also follow his very newly dead best friends last wishes for peace and mercy) over supporting Odysseus or even just leaving him alone right before they were out of the gauntlet and he was able to allow himself to break down

TLDR: killing Polyphemus made no sense tactically, Odysseus’s mistake was telling him his name and that was mostly Athena‘s fault anyway

[depravitycentral]

General Yandere! Jin Bubaigawara Profile

Yandere! Jin Bubaigawara x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, mentions of masturbation, mentions of non-con, mentions of murder, threats, slight emotional manipulation, Jin is a creep and goes through your stuff, breaking and entering, mentions of horrible men who don't respect women (not our lovely Jin), brief mention of strip clubs, mental breaks/Jin's Splits, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Perceptive

More than anything, Jin looks for a darling that can understand him.

He so desperately craves a human connection full of trust and caring, and having a darling who is able to read him like a book would be absolutely perfect.

He needs someone who is able to tell at a glance what he’s thinking – not getting bogged down by the multitudes of personalities shining through at any given time and instead seeing what the real him is feeling.

He craves someone who can offer him a sense of normalcy, someone who can make him feel like less of a freak, like less of a fuck-up, more like a real man. He grows attached to a perceptive darling quickly, feeling at ease in a way that he normally doesn’t.

They’re just perfect – he feels like he can be himself, letting himself be truly authentic and truly Jin.

It’s a luxury he’s nearly never afforded, his darling creating a safe space for him without even realizing it – something he’s beyond grateful for, and something that keeps him running back to his darling at every turn because it feels so damn good to just let himself go and not hold himself back.

It’s wonderful, and as soon as his darling displays this quality, Jin is helplessly, hopelessly hooked.

Sweet

At his core, Jin is a good person who’s made many bad mistakes.

He’s not a bad person by nature – and as a result, Jin finds himself attracted to people who are similar to him. He wants someone who is genuinely a good person – someone who is nice, sweet, someone who’s heart is generally positive and full of happiness.

And Jin particularly likes when this trait is aimed at him – compliments melt his heart. As soon as the words slip off his darling’s lips, Jin’s gaping at them, his heart racing in his chest and his face feeling hot because when was the last time he was complimented?

 When was the last time someone praised him, the last time they smiled at him like that, the last time they seemed so genuinely happy to see him?

It doesn’t feel real when he first meets his darling, his interest immediately peaked because god, it really feels like they see him, like they understand him.

 It’s euphoric in many ways, leaving his skin prickling in excitement and his stomach fluttering in nerves and pride.

A sweet darling is ideal for him – because even as his obsession festers and his behavior becomes more and more extreme, a darling who remains kind to him will only fuel this infatuation, only pushing him to try harder to win them over, to become more and more desperate to have them as his, just as he begins daydreaming about.

It’s just perfect for him – and he’ll do his absolute best to return the favor, complimenting his beloved as often and as honestly as he can, even if the compliments are more disturbing than flattering.

Calm

Jin needs a darling that can handle his Splits. He needs someone who is not only patient with him, but is also able to take the things he throws at them in stride, not even blinking when Jin falls into a particularly nasty split that’s got him spouting nonsense and panicking.

They need to be able to be calm and help them, assessing the situation and knowing exactly how to talk him down from the episode, to keep him breathing steadily and hold him so that he stays oriented.

He needs a darling that can handle the way his mouth doesn’t seem connected to his brain – random words spilling from his lips that sometimes embarrass him.

When a personality reveals something embarrassing that Jin did as a way to get closet to you, his darling needs to be able to calmly respond, to assess the situation and hopefully come to the conclusion that it’s not true, that there’s absolutely no way that Jin would do something so crazy and strange.

And yet, a calmer darling will be absolutely shocked when they learn that all of the things Jin had divulged without meaning to are true – all of it, down to the stolen socks and stalking to the graphic dreams and preparations of his apartment to make it seem a little more like his darling’s – a little more like them.

A calmer darling is ideal for Jin because he’s simply too excitable and tightly strung to not have a calm darling.

Oblivious

A darling that doesn’t notice the multitude of red flags in his behavior would make Jin’s life much, much easier.

A darling that is oblivious or perhaps blinded by their positive assumptions about people would work in Jin’s favor, because it would allow him to push the boundaries just a bit, just as he does without meaning to, all without having to explain the slip-ups he makes, all without having you grow scared by the way he seems to become more and more present in your life.

He needs a darling who doesn’t realize just how deeply Jin has invaded their life – so they can’t run before he manages to ensnare them, so they can’t leave him and abandon him like he’s so afraid they will.

Plus, there’s something endearing about this trait that Jin just can’t shake.

It makes him feel like a protector, making it easier to convince himself that his darling needs him to be around in order to safely function, to not be taken advantage of by some creep with bad intentions.

It makes justifying his actions much, much easier, lessening the small sense of guilt that eats away at him, lessening the insecurity that pushes him to draw back every once in a while, convinced that he’ll never be good enough for his precious lovely darling.

An oblivious darling would allow him to operate with less secrecy and fear, something that Jin is grateful for. Plus, they’re just so damn cute – cute enough to eat.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Clingy

Once Jin’s feelings for you take root, it’s over.

He’s so broken and lost, quite literally unsure of his place in the world, his purpose, himself. And so once you step into his life, with your pretty face and even prettier voice that says the nicest, most caring things to him, Jin’s reaction is nearly out of his control.

How can he not become absolutely, utterly enraptured with you when you’re so kind to him?

When you smile at him like that, all teeth and appled cheeks and this sparkle in your eye that he can tell isn’t forced, how can he not find himself swooning? How can he not be smitten with you when you look at him like he’s a person, like he’s worth something, like he has value and isn’t just a waste of space?

It’s euphoric, something that makes his pulse race and his cheeks tinge pink, and so of course he’s desperate to spend time with you, to be in your presence and soak up every ounce of you that he possibly can. In the beginning, when his feelings are freshly formed and still having some semblance of normalcy, Jin’s too shy to directly ask you to be with him.

He’ll struggle to look you in the eye, rubbing the back of his neck and letting his gaze flick to you every few seconds as he mumbles out a rushed, awkward, so um, I was uh, wondering if you’d like to see that new movie this weekend…

It’s hard to hear and you’ll ask him to repeat himself, only furthering his embarrassment and making him wince because obviously you’re going to say no – you’re too pretty and smart and sweet for him, why would you ever say yes to a washed-up criminal like him? But before he can even get the chance to respond, he’s blurting out a let me take ya to the theater, yeah? We can get seats in the back where it’s just the two of us.

He’s mortified, immediately clasping a hand over his mouth and his eyes going wide; he didn’t mean it like that! Well, okay, maybe he did, and maybe the idea of being a dim, warm place with comfortable velvet seats and sugary drinks with his body pressed right next to yours is incredibly enticing and enough to make him salivate and pant like some fucking dog –

Except you’ll still say yes, because at this point Jin’s infatuation – while still painfully obvious – seems like just a crush. He’s awkward and flustered around you, but that’s kind of endearing and sweet, isn’t it?

A fully grown man – and one who’s seen more horrors than you can imagine – is bashful over you?

It’ll have you looking past the way that he always seems to show up at the places you frequent, that same nervous and hopeful look on his face as he scans the crowd for your familiar figure.

It’ll have you looking past the way he puts his hand on your back and keeps it there for much, much too long, never moving downwards but always staying firm, as if he’s glued to you, as if separating himself from you is physically painful.

It’ll have you looking past the way he begs you to share just one more glass of cheap booze, telling you that it’s good for you, that it’ll help you relax and destress from that job of yours that you hate.

(Plus, you look so damn cute when you’re tipsy – all clumsy and giggly, your inhibitions lowered so that you don’t notice when his gaze lingers on you for just a beat too long, when his hand skims across your thigh, when he leans in much too close and inhales much too loudly.)

You’ll write off most of Jin’s clingy behaviors with a wave of your hand and an excuse that it’s simply how he processes his trauma. And it’s true, to some extent. Except you don’t know the full extent – you don’t know how he follows you home every night, trying his best to stay quiet as he lurks in the shadows, making sure no one approaches you on your commute back to the quaint little apartment he’d give absolutely anything to share with you.

You don’t know the way he borrows small items of yours, keeping them on his ragged nightstand next to the bare mattress he sleeps on, your hair clips and toothbrushes kept as pristine and safe as he possibly can.

(He’ll pick them up with trembling fingers, scared that even simply touching something of yours will break it, yet simultaneously thrilled that he has something of yours, something of an angel’s.)

You aren’t aware of the way he fantasizes about you constantly, imagining everything from linking your pinkies together to burying his face between your legs. (And in vivid, vivid detail, too – even going so far as to mimic your voice and sit on his own hand so that it'll go numb, just like some teenage boy.)

You’ll write it off, but Jin sees this as permission to push further, to try harder, to test the boundaries of your ‘friendship’ as far as he can without you growing suspicious. He’ll pull you into hugs with higher frequency and longer times, keeping you pressed against his body while he buries his face into your neck and tries not to moan at the smell of you.

He’ll spam your phone with text after text, conveying conflicting messages that showcase just how little control over himself and his split personalities where you’re concerned.

(You’ll have to turn off your ringer permanently with him around – he will drive you insane, the buzzing noise and the obnoxious little bring making you lose your mind. He texts you day and night, your peaceful sleep interrupted with the notification of fifty unread texts from him, ranging from single sentences to near paragraphs.)

He’s not exactly subtle, and while you’ll cling to your excuse of him just being lonely and struggling to cope with his past, eventually you’ll have to realize that Jin isn’t just using you to help him work through his previous experiences – no, he wants more.

He wants you. He needs you, to a degree where his every waking thought revolves around you, and most of his dreams do, too. He’s clingy and needy and always, always demanding your attention, and eventually you’ll find yourself nearly ripping your hair out because you just can’t seem to get a moment of privacy around the blond, his eyes always watching you and his fingers always itching to reach out and touch, to press against your skin, to make sure that you’re real and present and with him.

He just needs the reassurance that you won’t leave him, that you’ll stay with him, that you’ll always be with him – you keep him from splitting after all, and how could he ever thank you?

By being your personal watchdog and eagerly completing each and every request of yours, no matter how depraved or inhumane and dehumanizing. Anything for you.

Obsessive

Tying hand in hand with his clinginess, Jin finds himself drowning in a sea of you once his feelings form. He finds himself so overwhelmed with all the warring desires in his heart – he wants to see you, his fingers twitching and itching to set his eyes on you, to be in your presence and bask in you you you.

But he also wants to spend time laying on his dingy mattress, his eyes closed as he mentally lists all of the things he loves about you, all the things that leave him breathless and blushing and reaching out towards you with trembling hands.

He wants to speak with you, to maybe make you laugh and hear that wonderful laugh of yours all because of something he said, but he’s also too afraid to instigate conversations with you because he’s worried he’ll somehow fuck up and scare you off.

(And just the mere thought of that gets him in a cold sweat, hands gripping at his blond hair and his eyes squeezing shut, lips moving like lightning as he repeats the mantra that you want him you want him you want him… Splits caused by his doubt for your feelings for him are always the worst – they last longer, they leave a more harrowing impact, and – worst of all – he’s so distracted by his feelings that he loses all awareness of his surroundings. He’s no longer aware of the vase nearby, knocking into it and sending the thing shattering against the floor, the sound and the feeling of glass shards pricking at his feet not even pulling him out of his stupor.)

He’s a mess in every meaningful way, and yet the only thing he can regularly, consistently bring himself to do is amass more and more information about you. You’re his own personal drug; one that calms him slightly, that makes him feel more whole – thinking of you is the only thing that can keep him focused, and this manifests itself in many ways.

Mainly, Jin takes to stalking you very, very early on. He’s simply too intrigued and attached to not follow you home, unwilling to let you out of his sight for even a few seconds. He’s worried for your safety, sure, because he’s sure that a sweet, lovely thing like you could never defend yourself should a villain confront you, but that’s not why he’s trailing you in the shadows like some loser, like some freak.

No – the real reason is much more depraved, sadder and more pathetic than Jin himself would like to admit. It’s really because with every moment he watches you, he learns more and more about you.

Each night that he trails you home from work, he’s learning enough things to fuel his dreams that night – you avoid sidewalks with people when it’s late at night, preferring instead to cross the street so that you won’t pass them.

(Not that he’d let anything happen to you – he’d kill whoever laid a finger on you. He’d start by punching them, getting them to the ground and sinking his fist against their cheek and jaw again and again and again, then wrap his fingers around their neck and squeeze, feeling the way they’d wheeze and choke and desperately grapple at this fingers, begging him to save their worthless life. Begging with that same voice that they could’ve been calling out lewd and inappropriate things to you in, touching him with those hands that he’s sure they would’ve used to touch you, to taint and mar your pretty skin and leave you scared and trembling and shaking and needing someone like Jin to come and rescue you –

The man would be dead before Jin knows it, his lip caught between his teeth because although killing someone doesn’t necessarily feel good, there’s something pleasant swimming in his gut because now this person will never, ever get near you again.)

He learns that you always stop to look at pretty window displays, the glittering Christmas lights and decorations making you twinkle in turn, the colors shining against your skin and clothes in a way that makes Jin swear you’re an angel, as if you’re a personal piece of heaven just for him, no matter how undeserving he may be.

He learns that you keep your spare apartment key under your welcome mat, always fishing it out before you slip into your apartment. Your apartment, which he’s visiting numerous times – enough times that if he had to, he could navigate with his eyes closed. He’s poured through every square inch of your home – digging through drawers and marveling at each little trinket he can find, no matter how mundane.

He rifled through your kitchen drawer last month, noticing with baited breath that you have a variety of spices in your cupboard – you must like your food well-seasoned. He’s not a very good cook, but for you, he could be – and all too soon images of you leaning close to him, your lashes fluttering and your eyes sultry as you eat the bit of food off his outstretched fork, making a show of swallowing and telling him that his cooking is so good Jin, you’re so wonderful for me…

He’d also found a pair of scissors, something that’d made his brows furrow in worry because although he trusts that you’re responsible, it still makes him nervous for you to have something like this laying around your house – something that could easily cut you, something that has the potential to hurt you.

He’s gone through each and every piece of silverware you own, looking at each fork and knife and gulping, his cheeks red as he thinks of the way you’ve used these pieces of metal – your lips and tongue have pressed against the material, your saliva coating the fork’s prongs, the slurping and sucking noises you make as you eat the soup off of your spoon.

He’ll gulp, looking around your empty apartment, then quickly shove the fork into his mouth, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head because although you’ve washed it, he swears the fork tastes like you – and isn’t this almost a form of an indirect kiss? Aren’t his lips touching something yours has, his tongue rubbing and caressing the prongs just as yours might have?

(The thought leaves his knees weak, his pants unbearably tight, the fork clutched tightly in his fist as he wills himself to stay strong, to keep going and not crumple to a ball in the middle of your kitchen and fuck his fist like he so desperately needs to.)

He’ll sit on your couch, his breath uneven as soon as the soft cushions rest below him, his muscles tense and tight because he’s seen you sit here, watched as you laughed and roared at some television show, your pretty body molding to the couch’s cushions, your pajamas looking so cute and adorable and sexy on you.

His hands idly run over the couch fabric, his Adam’s Apple bobbing because oh, you’ve touched this before, haven’t you? He’ll meander into your bathroom, fingering your towels and letting his tongue slip over his lips, internally debating if it’s really such a good idea, if it’s crossing a boundary, if it really wouldn’t hurt…

And soon he’s stepping into your shower, the hot water (set to the temperature he knows you like) cascading down his nude body. He’ll open each of your shower products and eagerly smell them, something like a strangled groan slipping past his lips with each smell. He’s using your hair care products, lathering himself in your body wash, using your loofah and even using your razor, just because he wants the full experience of you, to be as close to you as possible given your current absence in the apartment.

And of course he’ll be using the towel once he’s finished – your towel, the one that still smells like you and has a strand or two of your hair sitting so perfectly and neatly on it.

(Jin picks up the hairs in awe, swallowing and bringing the hair up, his tongue brushing against the strand, his teeth clenching down as he chews at it.)

He wants to touch your toothbrush (so badly that it nearly hurts), but he stops himself, deciding that he should save that honor for when you’re sharing a toothbrush, when you’re with him every morning and night.

And of course, he’s tiptoeing into your bedroom, his eyes going wide and his nostrils flaring because oh god, it smells exactly like you and he thinks he might faint because it feels like you’re really here with him, like you’re by his side and hugging him and he’s surrounded by you you you.

He’s mostly respectful – or at least, as much as a man breaking-and-entering into your apartment can be, avoiding your underwear drawers despite the voice in his head urging him to snatch a pair of panties.

(The sexy ones, you know ‘em – the lacy black ones, the ones you were thinkin’ of last night when you jerked off so many times you were shootin’ blanks.)

He’ll open your closet, whistling at the sight of all your clothes. He’ll try on as many things as he can, hoping that things will fit him, always careful to hang them back up exactly as he found them, though a small part of him hopes that you can smell him on the clothing, that you’ll be reminded of him and be comforted. He’ll sit on your bed, breath hitched as he feels the way the mattress sags under his weight, before laying down slowly.

He’d showered that morning and was suddenly thankful for it – he wouldn’t want to sully your comforter with any dirt or grime. He’ll even dare to get under the covers for a moment, letting his eyes flutter closed as he imagines laying with you, spooning you with sunlight streaming in through the window, feeling your body (nude, of course, because he sleeps nude and all couples should sleep without clothing, yes?) against his and relishing in the smell of your hair and the nape of your neck.

All the while, Jin is noticing and mentally cataloguing every little detail he can process while in your apartment – the color scheme, what photographs you have up, what decorates your walls, whether there’s dirty clothes on your floors or bed or if you’re perfectly clean. Because really, everything is important – every little scrap of knowledge he can glean about you feeds the insatiable desire he harbors for you, this uncontrollable urge to be with you at all moments of the day.

This satisfies him, for now – it’s enough for the time being to be living as your shadow, but soon he’ll want to be by your side, hearing you say his name and feeling your soft hands touching him.

And he’ll do absolutely anything you tell him – all with an eager nod and a franticness to his actions that would leave him wildly embarrassed if it was anyone other than you.

Anyone other than the woman he’s hopelessly infatuated with – the one he'd get on his knees and literally beg for, even just for a simple glance his way.

Gentle

As a general rule, Jin absolutely does not want to hurt you.

Despite his status as a villain, he’s caring and soft to almost a debilitating degree, the notion of violence often necessary but not something he actively pursues. And so, of the small list of people in this world that he cares about, he would never purposefully harm any of them – and because you sit smack at the top of that list, this sentiment is only more extreme.

He thinks of you as perfection, idolizing you in every possible way, and so to even entertain the idea of leaving any sort of physical or emotional damage to you makes Jin physically ill, a Split oncoming as his stomach heaves, his head feeling dizzy and light as panic engulfs him. He absolutely does not want to harm you or upset you in any way, and this ultimately results in Jin being a yandere who is neither harsh nor patronizing, but rather simply gentle.

He treats you like an absolute queen; though he’s in a financial position that makes legally procuring gifts for you a little trickly, Jin goes out of his way to try and provide you with everything and anything he can to make you happy.

Before kidnapping you, this looks like buying you small, simple little token gifts – a small, modest bouquet of flowers (bouquet being a stretch – more often than not it’s just a single flower that he himself plucked from the ground, keeping the flower safe and preserved on his journey to find you – searching your most frequently visited locations, of course, and tapping into the tracker he'd managed to get Skeptic to install into your confiscated phone).

It looks like him offering to treat you to dinners and lunches, always at places that are within his price range (because stealing food in front of you would be a tacky move and although he can’t keep the façade of his occupation away from you forever, he’d like you to think of him as a dignified man), with greasy tables and even greasier meals, dingy lighting and seats with duct tape holding the leather booths together.

It’s not much, but it’s all Jin can offer you – and he does so with the most heart-melting, hopeful smile, his eyes soft and this look of utter vulnerability scrawled across his face that’ll have you giving in almost immediately, agreeing to getting lunch with him despite the way that his blatant staring bothers you.

(As does the way he leans in and inhales deeply when your back is turned. You can hear the breathing, the strange gulping sound that follows, and although it makes the bad kind of shivers race up your spine, you don’t bring it up with him.)

And once he’s stolen you away, that façade of being a dignified man is up – he’s still spoiling you, even more so than before your forced captivity with him, but now he doesn’t feel that he has to pay to spoil you. Now, he can steal your favorite things – because really, anything is worth seeing your smile light up your whole face when he brings home that expensive pastry he knows you love.

(The sweet is perfectly preserved, not a single wrinkle in the pretty, ornate parchment paper it’s wrapped in, nor is any portion of the sweet itself squished. He’d paid extra care to keep everything perfectly in-tact – perfect for you, because anything less than that would be an insult to his love for you.)

He’s bringing home all sorts of movies for the two of you to watch together, his hand slowly inching to your thigh as you sit side by side on his shitty old couch, the television on but all his attention focused on trying to be subtle about showing you just how badly he needs to touch you. He’s trying his best to get your favorite foods every night, getting you a few new clothes (and some of his own – he’s got a few sweatshirts that he will be forcing you into wearing, the sight of you in his clothing making his face scarlet and his face buried in his hands, his lip caught between his teeth as he tries and fails to compose himself because god, you look so good and it looks so fucking right to see you in something of his.)

Really, while Jin knows that he can’t buy your love and acceptance of his feelings, he’s desperate for any sort of help to get you moving that way. Any aid he can enlist in helping spark and develop any sort of reciprocation of his obsession with you is eagerly used, hope springing up inside his chest that maybe, just maybe, if he can make you happy enough you’ll forget that he’s a criminal, that he’s kidnapped you, that you’ve found out about all the stalking and stealing used socks and living in your apartment while you weren’t home.

He’s hopeful that all his hard work will pay off – you’ll see him as a man who really, truly loves you, even if he doesn’t deserve you.

God, he’ll never deserve someone like you – but he’ll never stop wanting you, either.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

In general, Jin’s jealousy stems less from a place of selfish possessiveness and more from a place of insecurity and genuine worry for your safety.

Jin is more than aware that he’s not your ideal man – he’s a criminal with deaths to his name, renting a shitty apartment he can barely afford, riddled with mental health issues stemming from his quirk, and perpetually smelling like cigarettes. He’s very aware that if you were left to your own devices, you’d never pick him – and he can’t blame you, honestly. He’s a loser, a grown man with so many voices inside his head that he can’t keep track of them, and if he were a woman as pretty, sweet, and smart as you, he’d choose someone more successful, wealthier, more stable, just better.

And so, when he sees another man interact with you, his initial thought is that this is it – you’ll like this man more than you like Jin.

Maybe he’s funnier and wittier, or maybe he’s charming and suave with his words, two things that Jin himself certainly isn’t. Maybe he’s more attractive – without a nasty scar down the center of his forehead, or maybe you prefer brunettes like him, or maybe he’s taller.

Regardless, insecurity immediately eats away at Jin, forcing him to notice all of the things that man does better than him, all of the things that could pull your attention and feelings – whatever those may be – away from Jin and instead towards this stranger.

And while he initially feels that this is true, that this is the natural course of things and it’s how it should be, the longer he watches the interaction, the less satisfied with that he becomes. He grows restless, his fingers twitching at his sides, his muscles tensing and flexing and urging him to do something, whether that’s interrupting the two of you or causing a large enough distraction to end whatever conversation you’re having. It’s nearly unbearable, an internal war raging the longer he watches on, his lips moving and all sorts of different arguments and urges slipping off his tongue.

Go interrupt them!

No, it would be wrong of me to insert myself into a conversation that I’m not a part of.

Fuck that, he wants to steal her! He wants to make her his own!

You don’t know that, you can’t claim something that extreme without any foundation to base it on!

You can see his face, you can tell he wants to fuck her – look at that, he’s practically undressing her with his eyes!

It goes back and forth, seeming to never end, until eventually Jin forces himself to turn around and walk away, the part of him that’s insecure finally winning out the longer he notices things that are simply better about this stranger. It’s torturous and makes him bit his lip so hard it draws blood, his steps labored and heavy, but it’s the right thing to do.

And if you respond to his texts later that night, Jin will know that you haven’t completely forgotten him – perhaps you’ve forgotten this stranger, though, because you’re choosing to respond to Jin’s texts, not his. And this idea makes a wobbly smile spread across Jin’s face, his thumbs typing away at his cracked phone, deleting and retyping over and over again as he tries to think of ways to keep the conversation going, wanting so very badly to keep talking to you and keep your attention on him.

However, although Jin is fairly complacent and non-confrontational when it comes to most of your interactions with other men, there are a few circumstances where he’s not nearly as controlled – that is, when Jin can tell that the man has bad intentions.

It’s one thing to see you talk with a man that clearly finds you attractive, but it’s an entirely different story when Jin can see the gun or knife glinting in the man’s pocket, or when he recognizes the man’s face as a petty criminal known for pickpocketing defenseless women. It’s in these circumstances where Jin’s face will harden up, his lips a thin, straight line as he approaches the both of you, butting his way in with an excited greeting aimed at you, his eyes cold as he stares the man down.

And frankly, most petty villains will recognize him – sure, he isn’t the most famous villain, but he’s still a member of the League, and the perpetrator will often make some excuse and scurry away, not wanting to stir up any trouble with the League over some stupid woman.

And though Jin won’t want to explain why the man fled so quickly, he’s absolutely smug that his mere presence was enough to deter the man from bothering you anymore. He’ll look at you with excited eyes, his cheeks lightly flushed, hoping and praying that you’ll compliment him, that you’ll praise him and thank him because really, you wanted the man to go away but you were too scared to do it yourself.

And maybe, just maybe, if he’s really lucky, you’ll even give him a peck on the cheek as a thanks, the feeling of your lips against his skin making his heart race, this strange half-whimper slipping from his throat because you’re so close that he can smell you, and it’s fresh and real this time – not just the residual scent of your pillow your towel.

It’s wishful thinking, but Jin likes being your guardian angel – he’s anything but an angel, really, but it makes him feel important, needed, good. Like he’s actually giving you something, instead of just taking and taking and taking.

This is wrong, and Jin knows it. He shouldn’t be here – the cute little café is a public space, sure, but there was absolutely no chance that he would’ve found himself here if he hadn’t been trailing you for the last thirty minutes.

And he’d enjoyed it – watching you walk, seeing how your hair flittered a little in the breeze, the sway of your hips (something he tried hard not to look at but still found his gaze wandering down to every few minutes, his cheeks growing pink and palm coming up to smack at his cheek).

But the moment you’d entered the café, Jin following a few steps behind, he knows something is wrong. Instead of sitting at your own table, you make a beeline to the larger wooden one by the window – the one where a man is already sitting. Jin sits at his own table, some twenty feet away, bringing a flimsy newspaper up to cover his face.

The man greets you with a smile, introducing himself, complimenting your outfit and even pushing your fucking chair in, and suddenly it becomes very apparent what’s happening.

You’re on a date. A fucking date. Jin feels his face slip, a deep frown etching its way onto his lips. It’s torture to listen to you; your voice is a little higher than usual, he notes, and something sharp wedges its way between his ribs.

You never speak to him with that kind of voice – does that mean you aren’t interested in him? Does that means you don’t like him? Don’t say stupid crap like that! Are you stupid? It’s probably true! He winces, knocking at his head with his hand as a feeble attempt to get the warring thoughts to stop.

The date goes well, as far as Jin can tell – conversation flows easily, and with every passing moment he finds himself growing more and more restless, the hopelessness beginning to take its toll. He wants to interrupt – badly, really, with every fiber of his being. But that wouldn’t be fair to you – you obviously seem to like this man, perhaps even more than you like Jin, as loathe as he is to say it, and what right does he have to take that happiness away from you?

It hurts him, yes, but if it means staying in your life and seeing you happy, even if it’s with another man, he’ll grit his teeth and not play dirty. Your happiness is top priority, after all – and as you leave the café, you and the man going your separate ways, Jin can only hope that you will not be receiving any calls or texts from the man, even as you happily give him your number. He’s still gripping his hands into tight fists, even as he begins trailing the man.

This sight is significantly less pleasant than when he follows you – he doesn’t mind looking at you, not when you’re all pretty and sweet and you seem so very innocent. But this man? Well, as he approaches a bar a few blocks away, Jin’s brow cocks up. A mid-afternoon drink seems a little strange, and as Jin steps inside the bar after the man, a small burst of pride blooms in his chest.

Because really, this is not just a bar – there’s a stage, at the far back of the establishment, with all sorts of different colored lights beaming down on the main act: a scantily clad woman leaning back on a pole, winking at a man sitting in the front row. Jin’s taken aback – surely this can’t be a good sign, right?

You didn’t need to be seeing any men who frequent strip clubs – and with the way the man immediately went up to the bar, ordering a shot and acting friendly with the bartender, Jin’s sure this isn’t the first time he’s visited.

With a smile, Jin decides that this is finally something that Jin is better at – he’s many things, sure, but he only has eyes for you and he’d never seek out the visual comforts of another woman.

And as Jin approaches the bar, ears perked up, anger brews in his gut. Yeah man, just wrapped up a date – girl’s awful, talking about her family and shit, who the hell wants to hear that? She’d look better if she just shut the fuck up.

Jin’s jaw is on the floor, rage swimming in his veins. How dare this man speak about you that way – as if you’re just some random woman, as if everything you say isn’t gospel, something worthy of being revered and paid the utmost attention to. How dare this man dismiss you like that – after you’d been so happy, after you’d thought the date had gone so well, after he’d asked for your number, for God’s sake.

And with that, Jin sinks into his jacket, closing his eyes and trying to subdue the urge to walk over and sock the guy across the face so hard that he spits out a few teeth. No, that wouldn’t accomplish anything except a few moments of satisfaction – no, Jin has to take more drastic measures, something that will ensure that you and your fragile little heart won’t be hurt by this horrible, disgusting man.

And so, as Jin slips away, it’s not so hard to send you a fake text from the man, asking if he can swing by your apartment.

And you, being flustered that your date had contacted you to fast and so eagerly of course say yes, inviting him over for dinner. Jin smiles down at the phone with a big, bashful beam, able to pretend for just a few moments that he was supposed to be the recipient of that text, that really it was him you were inviting over for a homecooked meal, then maybe a movie, then maybe you’d stay up and talk with him for hours, falling asleep in his arms and letting him hold you like he spend hours dreaming of.

(Or, if you’re feeling a bit frisky, perhaps you’d let him spread your legs and spend hours with his head trapped between them, your taste and smell clouding his senses as he brings you to your high over and over and over…)

It’s not hard to make a copy of the man, to get him at your apartment door, that same suave walk and the high cheekbones making you bashful as you open your apartment door. But then, the man sneers at you, looking you up and down just as Jin had instructed, scoffing under his breath and telling you that you’re even uglier the second time I see you. I just came by to tell you that I don’t wanna see you anymore – you’re not my type, you know? I like ‘em a little more interesting. But if you wanna fuck, I’d be more than happy to –

You slam the door in his face, chest heaving and tears pricking at your eyes, and although it nearly braks Jin’s heart, he closes his eyes and breaths deep, reminding himself that although hurting you is making every bone in his body feel brittle and about ready to snap, this is necessary.

It’s necessary because the man probably would’ve done worse if left to his own devices – if his conversation with the bar tender was any indication, you would’ve been used for your body and then unceremoniously dumped in the trash. And you deserve so, so much more than that – Jin is sure of it, and Jin can give you that if you’d just let him.

He gives you some time, sure that you’re sobbing behind the front door, and it’s only an hour or so later that he texts you (from his real number, of course) if you’d like to grab dinner. He’s equal parts nervous and ecstatic when you respond with a simple yes, already eager to get you distracted from that loser – and, perhaps, even manage to show you how much better Jin can treat you.

He's charming that night, on his best behavior, telling you all sorts of jokes and asking about things he knows you love to ramble on about, just wanting to hear your voice and watch your lips move. And soon, the guilt is totally washed away – because really, would you have ever been able to speak this freely with that man? Absolutely not. Jin may not deserve you, but at least he can treat you well – so why can’t you see that?

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Jin doesn’t want to kidnap you, but he will eventually reach a point where his anxiety, paranoia and profession leave him with no other choice. He’s fully aware that his obsession with you has grown to such astronomical proportions that it’s literally controlling his life, but he doesn’t seriously entertain the notion that you’re just as deeply in love and devoted to him as he is you.

(Obviously he likes to think that you are – pleasant daydreams star you with your lips pressed against his jaw as you tell him just how much he means to you, just how badly you want him, just how much you need him, but he’s always brought back to reality with a cruel slap, Dabi barking his name or an alarm clock going off and leaving him feel empty, alone, restless for you.)

He knows that he possesses a one-sided love for you, and in the beginning of his obsession, that was enough. It was enough to simply be seen by you – to have your attention on him if only for a few seconds, your smile and warm and inviting and genuine as you spoke to him. It was enough that he was a silent admirer, watching you from the shadows of your life and eagerly anticipating your next encounter, no matter how large or small.

It was enough, until suddenly it wasn’t. Suddenly Jin needed to have more contact with you – getting your phone number had been one of the most nerve-wracking things he’d ever done, his fear of rejection so incredibly high that it made his voice a bit scratchy and he’d almost stuttered, leaving him mortified but only more enamored with you when you just laughed and gladly filled out your contact information into his phone.

And that had been enough for a time, too – he could text you, sending you photos of the sunset that he spent five minutes trying to find the perfect camera settings and angles for, just so that he could send as good of a photo to you as possible and have you be impressed.

(He’d been hoping you’d even compliment him as a response, perhaps telling him that it’s so beautiful, Jin! You’re so talented at photography! Or, in an even more idealized world, you’d tell him how beautiful the stars are and then immediately follow that up with an offer to go star gazing, to spend the evening together curled up in some remote field staring up at the sky and using each other as body heat to stay warm in the cold night air.)

But then the texting and calling wasn’t enough – soon he needed more, and that’s when the stalking began. He’d follow you to work, then immediately return to your apartment and snoop around, touching everything and picking everything up just so that there was at least some memory of him on everything you own.

And this had to be enough – this was the furthest Jin could get away with without you noticing, without you cutting him out of your life completely once you realized just how truly deranged for you he was. 

But then somehow a hero finds out about you, and suddenly your position in his life is threatened, and Jin panics. He totally, utterly panics, a Split intense enough to bring tears to his eyes forcing him to rely on the one person he trusts more than any other soul on the planet: you.

He comes to you, babbling and going on about some sort of internal debate that you can’t follow, and as you try to calm him down, your words start slowly sinking into Jin’s psyche. You keep saying that you’re there, that you’ll always be there for you, I promise.

You’re pulling him into your side, a cloth bag placed over hie head while you rub at his arms and back, shushing him gently and even rocking him back and forth every so slightly. And so, as the Split slowly fades and he calms down, two things happen – one, you sigh in relief and hope that Jin has processed some of his emotions and will leave, and two, Jin hearing your words as a promise that you want him, that you need him, that you want to stay by his side for the rest of your life.

And so, in the aftermath of a horrible mental health episode, Jin decides that you’ve essentially given him permission to make sure you really are always going to be there for him, just like you said.

It’s not hard to sneak into your apartment that night, the chloroform soaked rag sitting underneath your nose in a way that made it difficult not to swoon over your adorable sleeping figure.

(Jin gulps and swallows as he stares at your limp body, his hand reaching out to very, very lightly brush his fingertips over the expanse of your clothed hip, wide eyes staring at you as if you’re some piece of art, something for him to keep and cherish and love.)

And when you wake up the morning, you’ll find yourself in a strange bedroom with a strange man who’ll spoil you rotten – even if you beg him not to, even if you say the only gift you want is to be let free.

As a captor, Jin isn’t too terrible – all those desires to spoil you and make you happy are still very much present within him even once he’s stolen you away.

In fact, if anything he’s even more desperate to get you smiling, to see you be happy and looking at him with anything other than fear and hate. Because really, after that Split that led to him kidnapping you calms down, Jin is only left with complete and utter regret – you’ll hate him now, he’s sure of it.

You’ll be afraid of him, thinking of him not as the sweet, funny, and harmless Jin you’ve come to know but instead a monster, a criminal capable of hurting you in more ways than one. And this kills him – he hates being looked at like he’s ruined your life, even if he basically has. And because of this, he decides that the only way to get you to slowly see him in a positive light again is if he makes your life with him as good as possible – if he spoils you, treats you like a queen, pampers you and cares for you with the level of devotion that you deserve.

And frankly, Jin is more than happy to give you this – he’s a worshipper through and through, already revering you like you’re something holy and in need of constant praise. He’ll outfit his dingy apartment the best that he can – there’s freshly stolen furniture in your favorite colors and fabrics, changed lightbulbs for his overhead lights work, a stocked refrigerator, a new mattress.

(Only one though, so you’ll still have to share with him – but don’t be too worried, because he won’t actively try anything without your explicit permission. At least, he won’t while he’s awake – when he’s asleep is an entirely different story, because that’s when his real desires come out, unchecked and uncontrolled as he grinds his hips against your ass, his little moans and whispers of your name as he presumably has a wet dream about you more than a little awkward to lie next to. Don’t mention it to him though, please – he can tell that his cum is staining his boxers, but he’s always hopeful that you slept through it all, that you didn’t notice the way he was probably trying to get stimulation, that you didn’t see just how depraved and desperate for intimacy he is.)

He’s getting you comfortable clothing; lots of sweatshirts and lounging pants, fuzzy socks and even a few hats for when the heating in the building goes out (as it often does).

(He really likes to see you in his clothing, of course, but Jin isn’t too terribly pushy – he’d be ecstatic if you willingly wore something of his, his face bright red and all sorts of things coming out of his mouth, but he’s really and truly pleased, a satisfied and smug feeling burrowing in his chest that’s difficult to hide. Sometimes he’ll even wear the new clothing first, making sure that it smells like him, before handing it off for you to hear, biting his lip and struggling to stay calm because god, you look so damn good in what he’d just worn, god you’re really here with him right now and looking at him and touching him and acknowledging him.)

He’ll stock up on all your favorite foods, paying special attention to making sure he has every snack under the sun. And while he does care about your health, when he’s buying you all these snacks, he’ll get absolutely anything you want, even if there’s so much sugar and such little nutritional value that it makes him nervous.

He can’t cook very well, but he’ll order takeout or swing by a restaurant and steal something for dinner, always loving the look of hunger and shy thankfulness as you bite into the meal he’s brought you, trying hard to ignore the way he’s blatantly staring at you and awaiting your approval.

And really, that’s another part of your captivity with him – the staring, the touching, the constant talking, the constant him. He’s always been clingy with you, but it’s even more so once he's got you trapped under his thumb. He always has to be looking at you, observing you and feeling like he’s a part of whatever you’re doing. He wants to see everything you’re up to – when you’re watching television, he’s watching you.

(And nervously playing with his fingers, like there’s something he wants to ask you but is afraid to, right up until he blurts it out, something crude and rude and it immediately makes him apologize, gripping at his hair a bit and telling you about how he didn’t mean it, oh man I promise I didn’t mean it!)

When you’re doing one of the puzzles he’d stolen to help keep you entertained while he was busy, he’s sitting on the other side of the table, those eyes of his glued onto your fingers as you try each piece, watching with rapt attention and marveling at how you slowly make progress, feeling smug and prideful because his girl is so smart.

When you’re stepping into the shower, you can see him out of the corner of your eye, not peeking at you but simply staring at the open doorway of the bathroom, his back facing the shower but his presence still suffocating you.

(He refuses to leave alone during showers, simply because he’s terrified that you’ll slip and fall, that you’ll crack your head open or accidentally swallow shampoo or any number of other wild, outlandish things. And, as he listens to the sound of running water, he’s hoping that one day he’ll get to join you – that one day you’ll be able to bathe together. He’ll run his fingers over your roots, massaging the shampoo into your hair slowly and deeply, your body pressed close to his as the water cascades down your back. He’ll have you lather up his body with that scented body wash you love, and maybe you’ll even draw shapes with the bubbles, press kisses to his naked chest or press yourself against him, whispering in your ear that you love him...)

Truly, Jin is not so bad – he's clingy and you’ll have absolutely no time to yourself, but he’s not too invasive. He doesn’t treat you like an incompetent child, and he at least tries to make you happy – he won’t push you into a physical relationship, not does he demean you in any purposeful way.

The only true negative with Jin (aside from your kidnapping in the first place, not to mention the stalking and hyper fixation) is that although he tries his best to control it, Splits are not pretty, and you’re always the one he comes to her help. When you’re around they happen significantly less often, his comfort level higher and his concentration wavering from his own identity crisis and instead towards you, just as his thoughts often do, but they still happen.

And when they do, he’s blindly searching for you, reaching out bleary, teary eyes and all sorts of babbles and rambles coming from his mouth, every muscle in his body tensing up as he clutches onto you, begging for you to help him, to please, please make me whole again, ‘m not sure what’s – what’s real.

And while you may hate Jin for kidnapping you, for occasionally breaking into your apartment while you’re asleep and watching you rest, for threatening others in your name, for keeping you safe and sound, you still can’t watch this. Somewhere buried inside the monster that stole you away is the Jin that you were friends with – and that’s the Jin you want to help, the one that’s driving you as you shove the paper bag down over his head, letting him engulf you in a nearly too-tight hug as he sobs and his shoulders shake.

It takes him a while to calm down, but as his grip grows tighter and he starts murmuring your name under his breath like a chant, he’ll slowly pull away, swallowing heavily and telling you that he loves you, that he needs you, that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And perhaps it’s Stockholm Syndrome, or perhaps you’ve simply gone crazy, but as time passes something about that sentiment will start becoming romantic to you, something that makes your heart race and gets your palms sweaty.

Because really, eventually you will end up playing out Jin’s fantasies – where the two of you are deeply in love, living together, sleeping together, bathing together, eating together, doing every possible thing in one another’s company because he simply can’t stomach the idea of being aware from you for any small amount of time.

It’s bliss, everything he’s ever dreamed of – and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get there, even if it means acting like your slave just to see you smile at him once a while and give him any scrap of positive affection you can muster.

Anything at all.

PUNISHMENTS:

As a general rule, Jin worships you. He finds you to be absolute perfection – you’re beautiful and caring and patient, everything wonderful and nearly too perfect to even be real. You’re certainly too perfect for a fuck-up like him – and yet he wants you, in such a primal and raw way that he can’t hope to fight it.

You’re like air to him, and because he’s grown so attached to your praise and presence in order for his mental health to stabilize for a few moments, Jin can’t stomach the thought of punishing you.

You’re supposed to be happy with him – you’re supposed to be growing to love him, something that he works hard at every day that he has you trapped with him. He gets you flowers (they’re a little wilted and old, but they’re the best he can find), little chocolates (never quite in the flavors and styles you like, but as close as he can get), and tries to keep you happy and placated by having all your favorite things in the apartment.

And so, even more than being upset that you attempted to escape or hurt yourself, Jin can’t really fathom why you’d even bother doing something worthy of a punishment in the first place – are his efforts not enough? Is it not enough for him to run himself ragged trying to think of ways to keep you happy, to show you that despite having kidnapped you, he’s not an entirely bad person?

It’s demoralizing and sends him spiraling into a state of panic and confusion, leading to particularly bad Splits that get him ripping at his hair and frantically grabbing for something, anything, to stop the episode in its tracks.

And so, punishments aren’t common at all – with a few hard exceptions that he does, with time, deem as worthy of his punishments.

(Harming yourself is a large one, as is attempting to harm Jin. Most other things are fair game, and things that he understands why you’d do. But once there’s the question of safety, Jin’s hairs are standing on edge, worry eating him alive because he absolutely cannot have you bleeding or in pain or any number of horrible things.)

You’ll never, ever be physically harmed while with him – the mere thought makes him anxious enough that he feels like he’ll hurl, the images of you bruised and battered flashing behind his eyes and making him feel on edge, anger boiling up in his chest because he absolutely will not stand for you to be harmed in any capacity, whether by another person or by himself.

And he doesn’t even really like to emotionally punish you – he’s not the best manipulator in the world, and something about purposefully warping your mind makes him feel dirty, a grimy feeling that makes his skin crawl and that he wants to avoid at all costs. But sometimes, certain infractions – especially towards the beginning of your captivity – have to be addressed, the bad behavior in you stomped out before it can really take root.

And so, Jin relies on other methods to get these points across – that is, he decides to show you just how good you have it with him by taking some of that good away.

He’ll revoke your dinner privilege for a night, or showering privileges for a few days.

He’ll forbid you from listening to music by removing all electronic players in the apartment, his phone hidden on his person (and yours having been long destroyed, even from before he laid your unconscious body out on your bed, marveling at the sight of you and oh-so-gently brushing a strand of hair out of your face).

It doesn’t feel good, you being even minorly uncomfortable in any way a difficult a difficult sight, but Jin pushes through, his personalities arguing audibly but all eventually agreeing that showing you exactly what you do have is the best method to go about making you as happy as you possibly can be with him.

Besides, there’s something inexplicably satisfying about the moment that you finally admit that you need him, that as much as you hate the hell he’s created by kidnapping you and keeping you all for himself, you must rely on him if you want to survive.

And Jin is smug – finally, you’re starting to see that he can be good, that he’s really not the monster you’ve cracked him out to be. And as soon as the punishment is over, Jin is back to the ever-loving, clingy mess that he always is, desperate to be around you and get your attention.

Jin’s hurt, more than anything, when you lunge at him and swing your fist like you’re trying to punch him.

He stops you easily, of course, but there’s something about the look in his eyes that has you shrinking back, shame withering through your body because god, how can he look so genuinely heartbroken, so genuinely betrayed?

It’s silent for a few moments as he holds your wrist in place, his mind too distracted to even focus on the feeling of physical touch that you initiated, even if the intention was less than ideal. His voice is small when he asks you what you’re doing, hurt lacing his words as he asks why are you trying to punch me? Are you mad at me? What did I do?

And in a different voice, though still somber are you on your period?

And although you have a few choice words to spit at him, all kinds of answers popping into your mind immediately, there’s just something about the way he’s slumped over, shoulders drooping and defeated, the downturn of his lips and the soulful look in his eye that have you unable to speak, the words simply not rolling off of your tongue.

Jin waits for a moment, expecting a barrage of hatred to spew from you, but nothing comes. And so, with careful fingers and slow movements, he slowly lets go of your hand, watching with careful eyes for your next move.

When you don’t swing at him again, Jin takes a step back, the action looking like it physically pains him.

It’s late, we should get to bed. It’s silent again for a moment, but then he moves towards the couch.

Listen, I don’t want to be the bad guy, but tonight you’ve gotta, uh, you’ve gotta sleep here tonight.

You look at him like he’s a little crazy, and he sends you a sorry glance, that same hurt written across his features.

You’ve gotta understand that I’m trying to do what’s best for you, I promise! I know kidnapping you was wrong, but you’re here now and we’ve gotta make the best of it.

God get over it already! It’s already been a month!

You watch with wide eyes as he grabs the blanket off of the back of the sofa, folding it over his arm and gesturing to the furniture.

Sleep here, you’ve gotta learn that hurting me isn’t okay, and neither is hurting yourself so don’t you try anything!

I’ll sleep with an eye open, you hear?

The night is long without the blanket, the apartment’s heating out again as you shiver against the material, using the mangy couch cushions as a makeshift blanket. It’s horrible, and you roll over with a sigh, sure that you’ll never manage to fall asleep in this position but fully knowing that Jin would wake up if you tried to join him in the warm bed. Shutting your eyes and sighing, you again try to drift into sleep – unaware of the way Jin lays in the bed, staring across the room at you with fully awake eyes.

Watching you struggle is torture; he wants more than anything to get up and come bundle you up in the blankets, the sound of your clattering teeth and shivering audible even from his position. But he can’t – not if he wants you to learn your lesson.

Not if he wants you to understand that you absolutely cannot be trying to instigate violence between the two of you – you’re supposed to be a loving couple, happy with one another and perfectly content to live out the rest of your days together.

A punch doesn’t exactly fit that happy dream that Jin has whipped up, and although he knows it’s far off in the future, he fully expects it to become reality one day – you’ve just got to stop fighting it so hard.

And as morning arrives and you both lie in your respective places, neither of you having slept a wink, Jin decides it was worth it. Because when you get out of bed, crawling over to him and asking with that fucking look on your face if you can use the blanket or get in with him, he’s crumbling.

You’ve never asked before – you’ve never used the word ‘please’ with him since being kidnapped, and here you were now, asking him for a favor, politely, sweetly, like you actually appreciate him.

All he can do is stare dumbly at you for a few seconds, but then he’s sputtering out a yes and scotting over, opening up the sheets to expose the beaten-up white tank top he’s sporter and the boxer shorts. Immediately you jump in, the sudden warmth feeling heavenly on your chilled bones, but Jin can only shudder, the feeling of your body so close to his driving him crazy, your smell engulfing his senses and he swears he can even taste you.

He’ll pull you close, experimentally, and when you don’t fight it he’ll let out a slow, long breath, letting his hand rest on your side lightly, almost as if he’s afraid to touch you.

Almost as if you’re not real – and by extension that this sort of fondness you seem to be developing for him isn’t real either. But God, he hopes it is.

OVERALL DANGER:

5/10

Jin is not particularly dangerous.

Mostly, he’s just incredibly and overwhelmingly needy. He’s so sure that he’s not worthy of you, that you’re much too good for him that it causes him to overcompensate, to try much too hard to get you to like him, to get you to want him.

He’s always texting you, running into you at seemingly random places and times, always talking your ear off and looking so genuinely enraptured and intrigued when you respond to him that it’ll make you a little uncomfortable, the intensity in his eyes a bit scary.

He sees you as being something genuinely divine, his idolization of you terrifying in its sheer degree. He spends every free moment trailing behind you, always living in your shadow, pretending with a dopey grin that he’s actually living out your life with you, that you’re somehow aware of him stalking you, that you actually want him to be involved in your day to day life.

(And he only feels a little pathetic about this – his love for you and his intense desire to be recognized by you too strong to bar him from having some dignity and stopping this disturbing obsession.)

He’s always trying to interact with you, becoming addicted to hearing your voice and feeling your attention on him, becoming addicted to the feeling of protecting you, of being needed. And when he eventually snaps and steals you away, Jin only becomes more needy, trying desperately to compensate for the fact that he’s kidnapped you by spoiling you with any gift he can, respecting your privacy and autonomy, trying to keep you as happy as possible given your situation.

And really, while you’ll hate him at first, betrayed beyond belief and scared of this strange new person that seems to have replaced the Jin you knew, eventually you’ll slowly come around. You’ll start to realize just how truly pathetic he is, how he can’t help himself but want you and your attention, and although you’ll hate yourself for it, some part of you will be flattered by how badly he wants you.

Some part of you will be pleased that someone desires you so much that they’ve become such a mess, that they want to please you badly enough that they’re willing to throw their pride out the window for you. You’ll feel guilty and like you’re betraying yourself, but really it’s in your best interest to not fight this new development – because really, while Jin may seem a little scatterbrained and easy to manipulate, he’ll find you if you escape.

And he’ll find you remarkably fast – and although he still won’t hurt you upon your reunion, you’ll come to find that Jin has treated you very, very well. And when that’s suddenly taken away, you’ll find yourself wishing that Jin – your Jin, the one that would steal the stars and sky for you – was back, that he was with you and telling you just how beautiful you are.

You’ll slowly learn that you need him just as badly as he needs you, now – a sentiment that makes Jin beam so brightly that it nearly hurts.

[velvet-games]

in the middle of working on a lucifer redesign :)

thoughts/explanations + minor character analysis under the cut (this was supposed to be short but it ended up being very thorough lmao):

honestly love his canon design so I'm kind of working from that more than I'm trying to rethink stuff from scratch

I'm gonna admit right now that a lot of the design choices were very self indulgent lol; I just want him to be pretty :<

circus stuff~

I've seen a lot of people raise their eyebrows at the circus motif, so I was going to try something different, but I actually think it makes a lot of sense!

I think freakshows/circus acts have been tied to this idea that certain identities/abilities are strange and shameful, only valuable as dehumanizing entertainment -- they're mistakes, freaks of nature

but at the same time many circus performances require a lot of skill and work and love that can go unappreciated, each and every performer at the very least a person worth respecting

I think lucifer sees hell as a freakshow/circus he's been forced to lead and try to control

a bunch of wayward toys meant to be bright and beautiful that have been twisted into something terrifying

and he needs to discover a more empathetic, appreciative, and loving way to think about sinners

and also to realize that it's not about him or his mistakes; it's about a group of people with their own emotions and autonomy that he needs to respect

anyway

all that to say: we're keeping the circus ringleader thing!

I think a whip would make more sense for a ringleader, esp since alastor has a staff already (but they're enemies/foils so maybe their designs should reflect each other?)

there's room to turn the whip into a snake maybe

in the pic I made it look like his tail bc I considered making his actual tail a goat tail (cute! but the longer one suits him better I think)

maybe an apple on the top/handle still

the tux honestly looks a little too formal/cool for him most of the time lmao

so I think he should take off the jacket/have the toymaker apron on instead unless he's fighting

vaudeville doll~

lucifer has a lot going on tbh: circus ringleader, angel, devil/demon, snake, goat, vaudeville porcelain doll, toymaker, etc.

I think I'm gonna take out snake just to simplify a little, but I'll talk about that more later

I was also going to take out porcelain doll but

1) the rosy cheeks are super cute

2) fits with the circus theme

3) fits with the idea that he's both a toy and toymaker (an angel that tried to play god)

uhhh there's a couple self indulgent doodles of him in a vaudeville doll dress lol. not relevant to the design at all; I just like drawing stripes and ruffles

I ended up making him sort of androgynous in a lot of ways? (not that he wasn't already lol) which works for him I think

part of it was the vaudeville doll thing; I wanted to give him (keep?) the eyeshadow and add those little vertical marks you see on them sometimes

also because I really liked the puff sleeves in one of the references I used; it kind of emphasizes an extended hourglass shape with the puffy pants

plus I love drawing the more classic tuxedo shape <3 very yummy lines and details

hair/shape~

I fucking LOVE when people draw him with messy hair, so I made that permanent

I also think (esp since he's blond) having the hair stick out in tufts kind of makes it look like a star (morningstar, lightbringer, etc. etc.)

even more so with the pointy horns (those are also fun to draw cause they're right in the corners of his widow's peak)

I drew a random triangle on one of these as a reminder to keep the pointy/triangular shape language throughout lol

squares would def be wrong with the implications of sturdiness and stability

I think circles would be wrong too? he's vulnerable and ultimately very soft inside so I kept a lot of round lines, but I don't think he's the traditionally bubbly/friendly/peaceful archetype circles are usually used for

triangles are apparently dynamic, dangerous, and unpredictable, which is a little closer to what I'm going for

(shape language is a very flexible rule btw; I'm not saying they determine everything about a character or that one shape has to mean exactly one thing)

he's also a depressed, tortured soul, so I feel like he should look just a little unhinged and exhausted <3 (hence the eyebags on top of the messy hair)

angel stuff~

(sidenote: cherub and seraph are singular, cherubim and seraphim are plural. even the show gets this wrong tho, so feel free to say whatever ig)

I'm pretty sure most people agree lucifer was probably a cherub? cherubim only have 4 wings so I might go with that

I do think it makes more sense if he's higher ranking like a seraph tho ... it's hard to decide whether to go with the show's ideas about angels or actual religious texts cause both are interesting in their own ways

snake~

ARHHGHJF idk how I feel about his nose

again I thought about taking out the snake motif, but he honestly looks good w/o a nose (I mean it's there obviously but you can't see it if it's just snake slits lol), and I definitely like the idea of him having a forked tongue or his eyes turning into slits when he's angry

also also

mini rant on animal motifs in hazbin:

I get the impression that a lot of people think it's a bad thing that you can't tell what animal a character should be? and/or that a motif has to be clearly present in the entire design to be good

and I kind of just accepted that until I started thinking about ozzie's design from helluva boss

like the original demon he's based on is really just that fucked up and mixed with animals you can't always identify

and chinese dragons are like a billion different animals even though they sort of just look like lizards at the end of the day

like obviously if you want the audience to associate a character with a specific animal (like if you want people to think a character's spooky because they're a spider or something), then you do want the animal motifs to be clear/consistent

but sometimes you just want certain elements there and it doesn't matter if the audience picks up on it (at least consciously)

and I think with someone like lucifer, having a lot of animals/concepts mixed together in an ungodly combination makes sense lol

so idk

maybe we'll just give him the nose/tongue

I did try just giving him a button nose in some of these for the doll thing tho

goat/charlie~

urgh I hate realizing I should've designed certain characters together lol

I took out the rosy cheeks in my original charlie design since I wasn't thinking about lucifer, so I put them back in this time lol (and generally thought about how they should be visually related)

I like that it enforces the idea that charlie's lucifer's creation (toymaker makes a doll in his own image yk)

also they both have puff sleeves now :) (charlie's design is basically princess dress silhouette but make it a suit)

I also gave her goat ears, so I figured lucifer should have them too? idk because I like the way his hair looks a lot better without them, and I kind of like the idea of giving them diff combinations of goat features (maybe she should have a goat tail?)

also drawing this made me realize I have no idea why charlie has a puppy nose??? I thought it was the goat thing for some reason but that doesn't make any sense

maybe I'll just give her no nose

anyway! fucking incredible if you read all of that; idk what possessed me to write so much about a half-finished design lol. feel free to leave suggestions/answers to the questions I had!