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leighsartworks216 · 2 days ago

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Red String of Fate

Sylus x gn!Reader

Spent like an hour talking to my roommate in the middle of posting this. Not proofread (even tho I really should) Takes place in the Raven universe

Warnings: red string of fate, birthday, past trauma, past character death, fluff, kissing, crying, presents

Word Count: 3,082

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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“You ask-”

“No, you-”

You snap your fingers. The loud click shuts up the twins in an instant and draws them from the shadows of the doorway into the room. They look decidedly anxious, midway between shoving each other forward. You raise a brow at them.

They look at each other. With a shared nod, they stand side by side in front of you. “When’s your birthday?” they both ask at once.

… Really? All that fuss just to ask when you were born? You give them an unimpressed stare. Interrupting your alone time was really worth this?

“It’s just that we-”

“Were wondering since Boss’s birthday is in April-”

“And if yours is before-”

“Or after-”

“His then we can start preparing right now!”

You tap your finger against the armrest. Your persistent silence unnerves them, even after you’ve been here for almost a year at this point. It’s nice, especially now that they’ve had time to adjust to it. It took a lot of confidence to ask you such a stupid question, after all. Too bad you don’t have any interest in answering.

You turn back to your book, signaling the end of the conversation. The twins look at each other, shrug, and leave. Once they’re safely past the open doorway and down the hall, you set your book down.

A birthday growing up sounded like some magical, wondrous event. Candy, games, cake, presents. How many nights had you dreamed of them? How many times had you seen a group of kids in cone hats in the park, parents trying to round them all up so they could blow out candles and dig into the carefully decorated cakes, with cursive writing on top wishing the special one a happy birthday?

The best you managed to scrounge up was when you were maybe 10 years old, give or take a few years. A new soup kitchen opened up. You lined up on the block with the other homeless, starving people of the city. The promise of hot food was always worth the pitying glances and disgusted glares.

When it was your turn in line, after waiting all morning until your legs were just about ready to give out, the person working there had dug through a crinkled brown paper bag to give you a squished brownie wrapped in cling film. That night, an older man you’d known well, had you blow out his lighter to make a wish. You’d split the brownie with him.

When he died less than a week later, something in you died with him. You hadn’t had a brownie since, or much else in the way of sweets, for that matter. As soon as the Devil picked you up into his business, they were off the table completely. The only real thing that improved was how frequent your meals were, without the anxiety of never eating again. But not the quantity; you had to stay thin for the stage.

You don’t even remember what day that soup kitchen opened. Well, there’s no reason to look into it now. Enough bad memories have been dredged up today.

Your phone buzzes with a message.

The twins are asking me when your birthday is. I assume they already tried asking you?

They left just a few minutes ago.

There’s no response for a minute, as if he knows he’s stepping on a thin line between things you do talk about and things you’ll never talk about.

Do you want to celebrate it?

You have to take a moment to think, to consider what he’s offering here.

You have no idea when your birthday is, and he probably gleaned as much. That’s not what he’s asking, though. If you could stare at a calendar, at every single day of the year all perfectly laid out, when would you pick to celebrate your life? It wouldn’t be a celebration of your birth, but it could be so much more. You’re not even sure what adults do for their birthdays, so separated from the concept that you stopped paying attention entirely. But you could choose to do anything - everything.

Your thumb hovers uncertainly over the digital keyboard, before finally typing out a message.

I think I would.

Just say when, sweetheart.

The second the twins are told your “birthday” is just a month away, on the day you agreed to work alongside Sylus, it’s all they seem to care about. Huddling together to excitedly whisper about it during missions, probing questions into what you like (mostly to Sylus, but sometimes they get so excited they ask you before realizing you won’t answer), hiding packages delivered to the mansion, and so on.

Sylus is much better about containing his excitement, if he is excited at all to celebrate your special day. He asks first if there’s anything special you’d like to do - dinner, shopping, traveling - you name it and he’s on it. When you admit that you have no idea what people do on their birthdays, he’s all too happy to list out things, without judgement. If he’s honest, he doesn’t do much to celebrate his own birthday either.

You think about the parties you watched as a kid. Piece by piece, you break it down into things you think you’d like.

First and foremost, you wouldn’t mind a cake or some other dessert. Sylus is right on it, suggesting that you both visit a cake shop to figure out what your preferences are before the twins go overboard with a flavor you don’t like. The owners think you’re planning for your wedding. Neither of you correct them.

Second, the games. Whether it’s Kitty Cards or Texas Hold ‘Em, you think it would be fun to play a game or two with Sylus and the twins. Gambling may or may not be involved.

Third, you remember one kid in your youth who was all dressed up in a suit by his parents, all to visit some cheap arcade. You would like to dress up. Sylus chuckles at this one, not because he thinks it’s silly, but because he’s always prepared to have a custom wardrobe built for you. He promises to have a tailor discuss your ideas with you.

As far as birthdays go, it’s nothing crazy outlandish like some of the things Sylus told you people do. At the end of the day, all you really want is to dress up, go to dinner with him (alone), come back to play games with the twins, and have cake. You don’t want the world in the palm of your hands, because you don’t need it. You’ve never wanted it.

Once your desires are laid out, Luke and Kieran calm down a bit. They’re no longer trying to plan this whole big bash, but scheming up ways to win the games against you and Boss, the notorious cheaters that they are. (They’ll never win, but they’re not going down without a fight.)

Mephisto spends the entire time leading up to the day gathering trinkets and withholding them from you. Usually, if he sees something shiny, he brings it straight to you for wordless praise and chin scratches. You know right away what he’s up to. You pretend not to notice for his sake.

Your outfit is ready in less than a week, the cake is baked with all the flavors you enjoyed at the shop, and you couldn’t be happier.

Sylus can’t tear his eyes off of you when you finally reveal your custom attire. Throughout the night, he can’t stop telling you how amazing you look, encouraging you to have more outfits made for future events. The restaurant he chose has a balcony that you two sit on, staring out over a stretch of beach. The ocean breeze carries the bite of salt, refreshing you for the rest of the night ahead.

You tell Luke and Kieran you’ll be home before midnight, but you drag Sylus out to the beach and get sidetracked. He can’t stop smiling as he holds your shoes and watches you run out into the shallow waves. The moon shines on the soft waves behind you, bathing you in an ethereal glow. By the time you do get back to the mansion, your hair is windswept and you have sand everywhere, but you don’t mind at all.

The games are so fun. Luke says you’re cheating by sitting in Sylus’s lap during Kitty Cards, but you gesture for him to sit on Kieran’s lap while he plays. Sylus doesn’t assist you in the game at all; Kieran points out moves and subtly switches the cards in Luke’s hand for the ones hidden up his sleeve. They don’t win a single game.

The cake is beautiful, decorated to perfection and topped with a few candles. You stare at the cursive on top for a moment. When they sing you the song (even Sylus), he notices the distance in your eyes. He kisses the top of your head when the song is over to snap you out of it. You don’t actually make a wish when you blow out the little, flickering flames. There’s nothing you want, and lingering too long trying to figure a wish out only draws the memories of the old man closer to the forefront of your mind.

You cut the first slice. Sylus cuts the rest. He’s not big on sweet things, but he finishes his thin slice anyway. You savor every bite. It’s paradise in your mouth. He has to cut off the twins from having any more, lest they make themselves sick.

Each of them has a present for you. Well, Mephisto has several. He flies to and fro for a while, bringing you little trinkets and shiny things that all pile up on the table. You take the time to look at and admire each one, even sorting them into different groups based on what they are. You wind up with a humorous amount of bottle caps.

Luke gets you a new pair of handguns. Kieran gets you a harness with holsters to hold them in on missions. Sylus gives you a photo album, full of photos from the year you’ve spent together. You sit pressed into his side on the couch and flip through it, page by page. You can see yourself relaxing with each picture. Just a few days after you start working with Sylus, you offer the camera a mischievous smile that doesn’t reflect in your eyes. In the last photo, from a few days ago, you look like a different person; you smile without fear, your guard is let down. The person you were at the gala a year ago has finally found someone to trust.

As the night comes to a close, the twins wish you happy birthday once more before heading off to bed. The mess is left for someone else to deal with. Your presents sit on the table and wait to be put away as Sylus leads you up to what’s become your shared bedroom.

You’re positively glowing. It’s all Sylus can think as you both lay perpendicular over the blankets. Your head rests on his stomach, his fingers trail slowly through your hair, and in just a few hours, the sun will be rising. Yet here you are, too happy to sleep just yet. You want to bask in this feeling a little longer.

You understand now why Luke and Kieran were so enthusiastic, why all those kids from your childhood couldn’t bear the thought of waiting another year for their next birthday, why adults continue to celebrate. You can’t remember the last time you felt a joy like this. It feels all bubbly in your chest, almost surreal, as memories of things that happened just hours ago draw out dopey smiles and lingering giggles. Sylus’s eyes are impossibly soft as he takes you in.

You’re still in the outfit you wore to dinner. He’s still in his suit, sans his jacket. Two pairs of shoes are kicked off carelessly beside the bed. Nothing else matters except right here, right now, soaking in the final vestiges of the night.

He brushes his thumb along your cheek, drawing your eyes to look up at him, that sweet grin still dancing on your face. His fingertips trail featherlight along your jaw, tracing your chin and brushing at your lips. You reach up to hold his hand in place as you kiss his fingers, eyes closing in bliss as you leave pecks down each one, only to leave a lingering kiss to his palm. You look back up at him. He smiles.

“I have one last gift for you,” he says quietly, as if speaking any louder would shatter every window and mirror throughout the entire mansion.

You tilt your head, curiosity drawing your brows together in a silent question. Your smile stays the same. He shifts, helping you sit up so you’re side by side, just facing opposite directions. You watch as his Evol reaches out to the nightstand drawer, pulling out a box and placing it in his awaiting hand. He offers it to you with purpose.

It’s simple, but beautiful nonetheless. Carefully carved wood, rich in color, with a domed lid and rounded edges. It’s about the length of your palm, and no wider than three fingers. A red silk ribbon in a bow ties it together, preventing the hinged lid from being opened. You glance back up at him. He nods toward it.

The silk slips softly through your fingers as you tug on one end of the bow. The knot falls apart, and the ribbon slides onto your lap. You lift the lid and-

You look up at Sylus, eyes wide and mouth agape in shock. He smiles broadly at your reaction. You look back at the present, emotion bubbling up in your chest once more. It feels even more powerful than earlier. Your eyes burn, but you fight back the tears.

Two rings perch side by side within the velvet-lined box. Red jewels decorate golden bands, shimmering in the dim lighting of his bedroom. A matching set. This is far more than just a pair of earrings or cufflinks, this is…

The first tear falls. You hold the box to your chest as you lean toward Sylus. He meets you halfway, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. His broad chest shields you from the rest of the world, hiding the emotions you only allow him to see. Which is wonderful, because you feel so silly, crying over a present like this. He’s given you so much in your time together. Anything you could ever dream of and more - always more. Always trying to make sure you’re happy and comfortable. This is like him giving you the world. You can’t ask for anything greater than that.

“Read the engraving,” he whispers, gently pulling the box from your chest. He holds it while your shaky fingers, usually so steady and sure, pull the smaller ring from the cushion. It takes a minute to see, having to wipe your eyes several times to get rid of the steady flow of tears.

You are my new destiny.

You cover your mouth with your free hand, muffling the sounds that try to escape. It’s usually so easy to be quiet, even under the worst torture. It seems impossible to shut up now.

Sylus pulls your hand away from your mouth, abandoning the box on the bed next to you, and cupping your cheek to wipe away the tears. He kisses your forehead. “May I put it on you?”

You nod immediately. He takes the ring from your trembling fingers and holds your left hand. You watch, entranced, as he slips it onto your pinky. It fits perfectly. The red jewel glimmers, mirror Sylus’s eyes when you look up at him. He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss over the ring.

You giggle, a soft and wet sound. You can feel his smile against your fingers. You’ve never felt so light before.

You turn to the box, using your free hand to carefully take out the larger ring. The band is a bit wider than yours, but the design holding the jewel in place is almost identical. You don’t need to ask or even gesture for him to give you his left hand; he offers it right away, still holding your left hand as he does. You slip the golden ring onto his pinky. Overcome with rapturous emotion, you hold his hand in both of yours and bring it to your lips, kissing the ring just as he had as a quiet, happy sob breeches your lips.

He wraps his arm around you, drawing you to rest against him, your joined hands resting over his erratic heart. His head is ducked down to rest against yours, kisses pressing over the crown of your head. His heart aches in the best way to be granted the opportunity to see you like this.

Your fingers play affectionately with his, thumbing over his ring and massaging his palm. When he returns the favor, brushing over your ring or gathering both of your hands in his just to hold them, you let out airy little laughs that burrow their way into his heart, where they will stay for the rest of time.

You use your right hand to finally wipe the last of your tears away, unwilling to let go of the bond that ties you together. You pull back just enough to look up at his face with a big, beaming grin. He leans his forehead against yours, your noses brushing against each other.

“I love you,” you whisper. It comes out crackly and hoarse, but it sounds like music to his ears.

“I love you, too,” he whispers back. “In every lifetime, I will find you. For the rest of eternity. Always.”

You tilt your chin up to capture his lips. It starts slow, a mere vessel for the vow he made, a seal that forces this change in fate he is creating. It doesn’t take long for it to grow hungry and desperate for each other. Not long at all until he’s cradling your neck, cold metal pressing against your skin, as he lowers you back into the bed, leaning his body over yours and supporting himself so all his weight isn’t crushing you.

“Happy birthday,” he breathes into your mouth, “my beloved.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter

#fanfic #fanfiction #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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rina-teatia · 2 days ago

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Stockings, panties, skirt and heels (18+)

Summary: Everything that Gojo put on exited Getou. As usual, two idiots can't get laid in any way, but smart women save them (they are really idiots but thats funny).

Characters: Getou Suguru/Gojo Satoru, Ieiri Shoko

Tags: Past Getou Suguru/Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru Being an Idiot, Foot Fetish, Stockings, Student Getou Suguru, Ieiri Shoko is a Good Friend, Student Ieiri Shoko, Fluff and Humor, Blow Jobs, Foot Jobs

Notes: hi guys! my name is Rina Tea-Tia and English is not my native language. However, I really want to make friends with you and I have a lot of work on jujutsu kaisen so I hope we get along 🥺 pleeeeeeease i just want friends in fandom 😭😭😭

Words: 2934

“Holy shit! How do you wear this?!” Gojo stood on the balcony of the student dormitory of the magic college and concentrated on stretching thin tiny women's panties in different directions.

“It's fine, you idiot!”

“Ouch!!!”

Shoko threw a comb at his head, causing the panties to fall out of his crooked hands. Gojo rubbed the back of his head, nonetheless looking at her with a smile as he fixed his glasses that had slipped down on the tip of his nose.

“We don't need to put stupid gyoniku sausage! That's why they're so small. Give it here.”

Shoko was laying out her clothes after drying, and Gojo came into her room to get under her skin. However, he obediently picked up the underwear and returned them to Shoko. Probably, another girl would have been ashamed to sort through underwear in front of a friend of the opposite sex, but Shoko didn't care at all. She had already taken away some bras from Gojo, which that jerk was trying on instead of his glasses. Asshole. “You'd better go to Getou. You have nothing to do.”

“To Getou?” Gojo repeated, idly searching for gold in his ear with his little finger. “I see him every day anyway. It's more interesting here. Oh, and what is this? Tights?”

Shoko turned to look sourly at Gojo. He had pulled off the nylon stockings from the clothesline and was now stretching them in all directions.

“Fuck, Satoru, these are stockings! Give them give back! You'll tear them up!” This time the white-haired boy was hit with deodorant. Gojo didn't let himself get caught off guard again, using his technique just in time, and the deodorant froze in mid-air a few centimeters away from him before falling.

“Haha, I'm sorry. So, these are stockings? They’re so… tight. Don’t your legs hurt in them? It must be very tight.” Gojo innocently fluttered his eyelashes and returned the stockings. Shoko rolled her eyes, took her piece of clothing away from him and began to fold it carefully.

“They don't hurt me at all. Nylon stretches well and is barely felt on the skin. These are not compression stockings.” The girl herself went out on the balcony and collected the rest of her things from there so that Gojo's playful hands would not get to them. He sat down on a chair in her room with his legs spread and his arms outstretched.

“Really? Come on! How is this possible?! Is nylon some kind of material for shamans? Is it using the territory expansion technique?!”

Shoko made a face that looked like a statue from Easter Island. Sometimes Gojo amazed her with his natural idiocy beyond measure, and being in the same room with him for more than fifteen minutes became a torture. And how did Getou tolerate him on a regular basis?! Moreover, how did Gojo manage to be one of the best college students if he had brains like a shrimp?!

“Oh Gods… Well, if you want, put them on yourself. Then tell me what's so tight about them.” Shoko rubbed the bridge of her nose. These words were not an invitation, but rather another mockery, but Gojo suddenly found himself near her underwear organizer.

“Really? Thanks!” He pulled out the stockings with lightning speed and returned to the chair. Shoko only saw him begin to unbutton his pants before she turned away.

“Fuck, Gojo! It wasn't an offer! You’re a complete idiot!

“Look, have I’ve already put on one… stocking? Is it the right word?

“Are you with your pants down?!”

“Of course! They're stockings. How do I put them on with my pants?!”

“I don't want to see your underwear!”

“But if I put on my pants, you won't see the stockings on me!”

“Satoru, for fuck's sake, Gojo, darn you,” Shoko sidled over to her closet and groped for one of the skirts. The soft cloth flew to the side where Gojo was supposedly sitting, and he deftly caught it.

“Thank you!” He rustled his clothes for a couple of minutes. “It's done! That's it, you can take a look.”

Shoko turned around and immediately doubled over with laughter. Gojo looked surprisingly natural — they wore the same uniform, and in general, the combination of a women's skirt and a men's Gojo's blouse looked as if it had been intended. The stockings were black, they gracefully darkened Gojo's legs, making them even thinner and longer than they already were. By the way, his legs were extraordinary long, not crooked, almost not hairy, with a chiseled curve of the calves and fragile ankles. What a model indeed.

“What's so funny?” Gojo was grinning stupidly, his hands on his hips. “You know, you're right! In general, nothing is tight. Only a little bit in the hips, but these are stockings, not tights, so it's kinds fine. If it were tights, I think I would have died when they squeezed my balls!

“Ha-ha-ha, what the hell, Gojo!” Shoko continued to laugh. “You should try heels with these on! You look like a balding Mei Mei!”

“Really?” Gojo laughed as well. He opened the door of Shoko's closet to admire himself in the mirror. “I think we have the same foot size”

Shoko, choking with laughter, pointed to the corner of the room. There stood really beautiful high-heeled shoes. Gojo put them on and tried to walk amid both’s laughter, but almost fell right on Shoko, and she caught him by the arms.

“What's going on here? Your roaring is heard from... — Getou knocked on the door and entered the room. He froze in mid-sentence when he saw this picture: Shoko on the bed holding Gojo standing on high-heels, wearing stockings and a skirt. Both of the merrymakers burst out laughing again, while Getou looked at them in complete awe.

“Getou... fuck, Getou...” Shoko moaned between fits of laughter and waved her hands “This is not what you thought!”

“Does it suit me, Suguru?!” Gojo somehow straightened up, trying to get into a sexy pose, but he looked like a locust.

Getou looked at them both for a couple of minutes with an unreadable expression on his face. Gojo giggled, and Shoko narrowed her eyes: Getou was clearly embarrassed, his light, slightly yellowish face became a couple of shades closer to red.

“Idiots,” Getou finally told them, quickly leaving the room and slamming the door.

“Suguru! Stop!” Gojo howled, falling off his heels in another burst of laughter.

Shoko narrowed her eyes again, but didn't say anything. She thought about something, but decided not to voice her suspicions yet.

***

A little over a week has passed since that incident. Shoko smoked slowly, listlessly twirling a short strand of hair on her finger. She watched her two friends practice. She had some small suspicions about Getou, and she was still thinking about how to confirm them.

The guys had been more than just friends for a long time. They both understood that. They even confessed to each other to some extent, but it was still as if something was missing, they were shy about it and preferred to behave as usual. Or maybe it was only Getou who thought so, and Gojo was just being stupid. This six-eyed dummy was capable of intelligent thoughts only during combat, but not in interpersonal relationships. It was partly true. Shoko knew Gojo well and he sometimes cried to her about Getou's cold attitude. Gojo was sure that he was the victim of unrequited sympathy. In general, everything was difficult. Shoko hated to get involved in this, but if it wasn't for her powers of observation, they would have continued to wallow helplessly in their pile of emotional shit like blind kittens. But they had eight eyes for two!

After lunch, she stole Gojo for a conversation. Getou went to take a shower, and it was a great opportunity to talk privately.

“Suguru likes legs. Legs in stockings.” Shoko said from the doorway, lighting another cigarette. She and Gojo were walking around the college grounds.

“What?” He bowed his head in a disbelief.” What kind of legs?!

“Ordinary fucking legs. Human legs.” Shoko rolled her eyes.

“Well… good for him. And where did that information come from?” Gojo grimaced.

“He has a second Twitter profile that he thinks no one knows about. He likes all kinds of foot fetish shit from it.” She chuckled. “He didn't even close the account. And only the main Getou profile is subscribed to it.”

“Shoko... why do I need to know that?” Gojo clearly became more gloomy, he kicked one of the stones on the road. “No one wants to know what his friends are jerking off to!”

Shoko rolled her eyes even more actively.

“He's jerking off on you, Gojo. On your legs, you stupid crustacean.”

“What makes you think that?!”

“Satoru, he liked it when you put on my stockings, skirt and heels!”

“Did he?!”

“Of course not, he was just looking at you for three minutes and blushing for nothing!”

“You're lying!”

“Like I have nothing else to do! Check it yourself, if you don't believe me! “Shoko threw her skirt at him, which she didn't have time to change into after training, and then left.”

***

Getou just wanted simple peace of mind, maybe life in the forest, so that no one would touch him. However, this wasn’t possible when your friend was Gojo Satoru. Getou made himself a cup of tea and sat on the floor in a traditional pose to relax a little when the door to his room was abruptly pushed open. Gojo was standing in the doorway. In a skirt. In stockings. And, damn, on heels.

“Ha, Suguru-kun! It's me, Shoko-chan! I think my stockings are torn from behind… Can you take a look?” Gojo howled in a squeaky voice, and then walked over to Getou, who was just stunned. He was staring up at Satoru, dumbfounded. His face was flushed.

”The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Suguru—kun, come on, help me!” Gojo continued to whine. He arched gracefully at the waist, slightly lifting the skirt so that Getou got a full view of what was under, not that he wanted to, though. There was indeed a small tear on one of the stockings, extending downwards with pulled-out nylon fibers. Getou grimaced and pushed his friend's ass away from him.

“Listen, I do not know how to help you. I advise you to start with a psychiatrist.” He had to continue pushing Gojo’s ass away as he immediately tried to shove it back in Getou’s face, threatening to sit on it.

“Wa-a-a! Suguru-kun baka!” Gojo finished his attack and eventually turned around, looking at Getou with displeasure from under his glasses. He spoke normally.” Actually… I just want to check something out. Relax.”

“What? …” Getou blushed even more, awkwardly crawling back until he was stopped by the toe of a delicate shoe pressing on his groin. From this, Suguru choked on air and gasped hoarsely.

“Really?! You’re hard already…” Gojo looked genuinely surprised.

“Wh-what?! No! Satoru!” Getou felt like he was drowning in a swamp, with every jerk he got more and more bogged down and could not do anything, he fell deeper into the very essence of his preferences, secret desires and fetishes, which Gojo somehow mysteriously revealed.

Meanwhile, he took off his glasses and put them on the table. Now big blue eyes full of tenderness were looking at Getou, glowing in the semi-darkness of the room.

“Suguru...” He moved closer and pressed Getou's head against his thigh, covered with a skirt’s fabric. “Just relax. I can do anything for you. That's why I'm here... looking like this.”

“How the hell did you even know ...” Getou felt a terrible mixture of seething feelings. It was difficult for him to resist Gojo. In this form.

“I know a lot of things.” Gojo chuckled. He brazenly lied, deciding to keep silent about Shoko's role in this study.

Getou carefully hugged his slender legs with both hands, stroking their curves, slightly pulling off the nylon with his fingers. Gojo was warm, and Getou's breathing was getting faster and faster. Gojo's legs were just... something. Luxurious, perfect. He lowered his head lower to bury his nose between the guy's thighs, which he immediately pushed together like a shy girl.

“I didn't want to tell you. I was afraid to scare you,” Getou admitted, lightly squeezing the soft part of Gojo's thighs before lowering his hands down. With a careful movement, he took off the shoe that was pressing on his groin. God… Gojo's legs were indeed perfection itself. The stockings clung tightly to a neat foot, emphasizing the protruding bones and the smooth curve of the ankle. A thicker black cloth hid the toes. Getou bit his lip, his pupils dilated with delight.

“You... you really don't mind what's going to happen? This is... not quite typical. But I can try to make it nice for you as well.” Getou raised his head to look adoringly at Gojo. He nodded quickly.

“Don't ask, Suguru! I've already said that I want this!” To be honest, he got turned on himself. Getou was sitting with his head right next to his groin, looking up at him… Gojo couldn't believe what was happening.

“Then… Let's take off the heels first. They look great on you, but I bet you're already tired of standing on them.” Getou chuckled, helping to get rid of the second shoe as well. Then he unzipped his fly and lowered his underwear. Gojo's foot went back to his groin, this time the toes gently caressed the erect length. Geto groaned, clutching at the guy's hips. “Damn, you... how did you know that…”

“You want me to jerk you off with my feet?” Gojo smiled. He understood. And once again he ran his foot down Getou’s penis, slightly squeezing it with his toes, as far as the nylon fabric would allow.

“I am!.. Fuck, Satoru... don't say it like that!” Getou groaned again, his fingers gripping the edges of Gojo's skirt. “I mean… Please…”

“I'll do it for you.” He nodded. He gently wrapped his arms around Geto's shoulders, playing with his dick with his feet. He alternated between them, making the guy below shudder and squirm. Getoг did not remain in debt for long, he indecently lifted Gojo's skirt and quickly pulled off his underwear.

“Kya-ya, Suguru-kun!” He screamed again like an anime girl. Getou's eyes widened.

“You… Are you also wearing women's underwear?!” He looked up at Gojo with a dumbfounded look.

“Please don't tell Shoko...” he giggled. “She only allowed me to take a skirt.… The rest… I had to get it. She's going to kill me!

“You're just... something.” Getou exhaled. Thin girlish panties didn't cover Gojo's erection in the slightest, and he tried to shove his cock upward, but it was obvious how uncomfortable it was. His scrotum dangled to one side and without support it didn't feel secure either. Getou felt like the dirtiest pervert in the world as he pulled Gojo's woman's panties down over his stockinged thighs and got under his skirt like in a tent. He began sucking, paying particular attention to his balls. Gojo twitched and moved closer. He was trying hard too, kneading and pressing lightly on Getou's cock, from which the pre-ejaculate was flowing generously. The socks of his stockings caught the drops and rubbed them higher, the stiff nylon was getting wet and painful, especially when Gojo started to play with the head. Getou kept up with him and took the other man's cock in his mouth, choking on it every time Gojo got particularly rough with it. His mouth was filling with saliva all too quickly. Getou thrust himself more roughly, tears of pleasure running down his cheeks and saliva from the corners of his lips, the tight fabric of the skirt and Gojo's gorgeous thighs were surrounding him, he felt like the happiest man in the world, not thinking about anything.

Gojo could barely keep from cumming, the blowjob from Getou was wet, he already felt saliva on his thighs, and soon on his feet — Getou came first right on them, unable to hold on any longer. Gojo rubbed his cum over his stockings and went over the entire length of the other’s penis again. They both puffed and moaned, clinging to each other: Getou grabbed Gojo by the hips and skirt edges, and Gojo grabbed his shoulders and hair. Satoru's orgasm was also approaching, he pulled Getou away from his groin, but, not calculating the speed of his discharge, accidentally poured out on his face.

“Ah... damn it… I'm sorry...” Gojo widened his eyes in surprise. He didn't expect it, but the sight of Getou wiping his cum off his face was mesmerizing.

“Don't apologize...” Geto was clearly delighted. “To take a cumshot on my face when you look like this… It's something.” He pulled Gojo by the hand and sat him down beside himself. “You're amazing.”

They kissed, reaching for that kiss at the same time.

Shoko was sitting in her room smoking. There were aahs, oohs, sighs, juicy wet slaps and the creaking of the bed from behind the wall.

«Having fun, these perverts… God, it's hard to work as a matchmaker. They'll keep me up all night after stealing half of my closet.» — she thought, sighing and throwing the cigarette into the ashtray. «Satoru, you're going to buy me new clothes. I won’t wear panties, skirt and stockings that both of you have finished off on.»

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #gojo satoru #satosugu #fanfic #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #satosugu smut #gojo smut #geto smut #gojo x geto

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taldigi · 3 days ago

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In my heart Yosuke and Chie are both bi but still would be horrified at the idea of getting together. Like no dude, that's the guy I immediately latched onto as a brother/sister figure to bully (affectionate). It's like Ryuji and Ann if Ann wasn't a lesbian. Yosuke and Chie could at most date and kiss ONCE and immediately go "ewww no gross" and make a mutual pact to never speak of it again.

oh yeah absolutely. They kiss once and it's the worst experience they've ever had. Drinking vinegar and chewing on sand levels of urrgh. Besides? They arent even each other's types? Like... Saki and Yu were established as their "types" canonically so there's that.

tho Ann/Ryuji feels like they could easily date for like, a month or two before they realize that they aren't clicking and then break up amicably about it. Any clicking between Yosk and Chie is the sound of a lighter during a gas leak.

In general i'm sick of the "oh they bicker like a married couple they're meant for each other" as if being in a constant state of friction and antagonism is "goals" for a relationship- and unfortunately, I feel like they're slightly angled in that direction. They have plenty of moments where that eases up and there's soft or empathetic sentiments, but to interpret that empathy or sympathy as "actually they're in love" is a huge disservice to their dynamic and to them as characters and.. ugh!!

(But, to be fair- for every shuffle they take in a possible Chie/Yosk direction, they immediately turn around and start sprinting in a Souyo and Yukichie direction. )

Angling them as sibling coded, tho- Is sort of oversimplifying it? I think their relationship is more layered than to simply use that label (siblings) on them. The implication for that uh.. I think... "I want to see them have trust and affection that transcends bickering (because that bickering comes knowing that trust cannot be implicitly broken) and without risk of it being interpreted as romantic" Folk can and- often do have relationships that transcend that of average friendships, and operate without risk of it becoming anything other than platonic.

Chie and Yosuke are openly disrespectful of each other, yet probably trust each other more than most the other (non souyo, non yukichie, non-yu) IT dynamics do. They know each other well enough to know what buttons to push... but also know how and when to push those buttons in order to challenge each other in ways that make them grow (or at least divert whatever energy is causing the other to spiral)

They're really good friends, best friends, even!! They'll show up the second the other's in distress with a six-pack and convenience store bentos in order to sit and call each other stupid for an hour because it works better and is cheaper then therepy.

but idk, thats how I read it.

#Anonymous #Whatever they have is interesting #and even good because it adds to the flavor to the IT.#they're supposed to be an echo of Junpei and Yukari and they pull it off better because it comes from *mutual antagonism* and no true hatre

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manwiththemagic · 3 days ago

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I hate the stupid writer who decided that not only were Sam and Dean just like John and Mary, but also that no matter the character development they end up becoming them as parents?

Dean acting like John to Jack will NEVER be okay in my mind. And Sam acting like Mary? Not understanding how to interact with Jack and trying to be comforting while still defending deans toxic behavior and just UGHHH. The fucking scene where Dean pressures Sam into locking Jack in the box and it doesn't take much convincing?? YOU BOTH ARE TERRIBLE PEOPLE.

I can't stand it. They would never do this. People aren't their parents, and I hate when media acts like it's an inevitable. It's not.

I do love the parallels with Sam and John, and Dean and Mary though.

Sam and John always fighting because they were both independent, highly intelligent people. Too much alike to get along. That makes sense and hurts. Sam becoming like John after Jessica died because he needed revenge, and refused to let his father do it alone even though if he were in johns position he would do the same thing?? Gold. (Except he might let Dean help, John refused too)

And Dean and Mary in S12? Or how once Mary went missing Sam explained how he felt left out because they always had each other. Because Mary had something special with Dean she never had with Sam. And how Dean was so mad at Mary for being gone when she came back. How he had to be everything to sam. There's so much more I don't remember rn but yeah.

Mary and Dean, while intelligent were the brawn. Even the angels said so with their freaky matchmaking shi. And how Sam and John, while yes strong, were the brains.

Sam was always smart, A+ student, full ride to Stanford, saw patterns in research others didn't. (My Sam has autism theory guys..) And how in s2 when s&d were showing ash johns research, he was like "how did bro see the signs? This is like impossible." Bc of the PATTERN RECOGNITION SHIT!! my brain is melting hold on chat.

And Mary and deans total badassery. How they could take out armys. Except when plot called for them to be beated. Esp mary. Why is everyone but Dean the damsel in distress?? ANYWAYS. They were also smart. Brilliant hunters. Understood it a way others didn't. They were like naturals at it. And even though at one point they both got out, and had families, they got dragged back in, and hardly mourned what they lost. Because they didn't really see anything else working out.

RAHHHHGGHHGH. Anyways gang. My head hurts. And I feel icky. GO VOTE IF YOU CAN!!

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godjustkys · 1 day ago

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stranger things headcanons.. pt 1.

THEME: How the characters deal with your flirtations (friendship stage)

CHARACTERS INCLUDED: mike wheeler, will byers, jane hopper, lucas sinclair, dustin henderson, maxine mayfield, billy hargrove, steve harrington, nancy wheeler, joyce byers, jim hopper, dmitri antonov, eddie munson, jonathan byers.

READER: male reader with a sarcastic, flirty, witty and a slightly cynical personality.

Mike Wheeler;

- dude is either OVER it or does not catch on at all.

- like seriously, your touches would linger for a bit too long and he'd think “oh, that's weird. whatever.”

- you mess up his hair every chance you get and he goes livid.

- “don't touch my hair, man!” is what he'd say and in return you'd just mock him. then a 'playful' fight ensues. he has ruined like five of your shirts now, accidentally tearing it while fighting.

- whenever you say something flirty or out of pocket, you would get two different reactions. The most common one being “ha ha. very funny.” with a sarcastic smile. and the other one.. god, he would just stare at you with a concerned look on his face, not even saying anything.

- for a little while, Mike just stayed oblivious to your 'advances', per say.

- you would do stupid dirty shit behind mike's back when the party's attention was on you just to get some laughs from them. it always worked but it ended up with mike scolding the shit out of you and calling you different names.

- one time at a random party, you invited Mike to dance. He disagreed, of course, and brushed you off with a laugh, but for a moment he almost said yes. Which was very weird for him. Dude was borderline panicking.

- you would call him “mikey” just to piss him off and he hated that nickname with a passion.

- “Mikey-” you'd start, and mike would immediately interrupt you with “get the fuck out of my house. Like right now.” with a blank look on his face while aggressively pointing to the stairs.

Will Byers;

- consider the dude dead. anytime you flirt.

- yeah he's a little slow but when he gets what you meant he goes red in the face.

- like he's blushing so furiously that even the tips of his ears are turning pink.

- he starts fidgeting with his fingers and blinking more profusely, as if that'd help anything.

- “will, you're sleeping with me, right?” you asked once, at a sleepover. He paused. “ay, I'm not opposed to whatever you're thinking but I meant you're sleeping in my room?” you cleared up.

- Oh. oh. “Yeah- yep, I'm sleeping- in your room, yeah.” he responded after swallowing hard. Lucas laughed so hard he started crying.

- he's a sucker for physical contact, truly, so whenever you'd press up against him, or your hands would brush, literally any physicality and he's tensed up, his heart beating out of his chest. It's not that he likes you, but your flirting certainly fucks with his mind. He's not that dense.

- due to your flirty personality, most of the time he would avoid eye contact with you. Because any time your gazes met, you'd wink. And it wasn't that big of a deal, truly, but Will just couldn't help it, it made his breath hitch ever so slightly.

Jane Hopper;

- oh lord. most of the time, she doesn't get it. she just smiles and nods.

- you think it's funny how oblivious she is, it is stupid but hella adorable.

- when it is explained to her, she barely has a reaction to it.

- so in conclusion, she doesn't even answer you. Unless you talk to her about it. But that is literally it. She doesn't deal with your flirtations, you have to deal with her obliviousness.

Lucas Sinclair;

- dude laughs it off when you first start flirting with him. Then he gradually becomes more and more concerned.

- he takes it pretty seriously. But he doesn't care that much, mostly because it doesn't bother him nor does it make him uncomfortable.

- immediately assumed you were into men when you made a slightly over the top joke (not that it was wrong).

- told dustin, will and mike what he thinks. they didn't believe him. Like at all.

- next time you said something flirtatious to Lucas, he didn't waste a second looking over at the others.. who seemed to have taken your flirting as a joke, something you'd say between buddies, you know?

- so after a long long long contemplation, Lucas abruptly asked “are you into dudes?”...

- everyone went dead silent.

- you answered after a beat. “..wasn't that like.. obvious?”

- “WHAT?!”

Dustin Henderson;

- HE FLIRTS BACK.

- you flirt, sure, you give it a hundred percent. Dustin, though? Dude gives it his ALL. Everything and anything he has.

- he sends you air kisses, he loves physical contact, he loves giving gifts (and receiving them), he loves talking. To make it short, he's love in human form.

- any time you guys have playful banter it turns into heavy flirting. Also, you two express appreciation by flirting, too.

- “don't make me kiss you, henderson.”, “dude,” he paused to put on chapstick. After he did, he turned his focus back on you. “i'm ready, kiss me.” he'd say.

- of course, others would whine and complain about it. Especially Steve, god he hated when you two acted like that.

- “i think my ears are bleeding,” would be Steve's response.

- at one point, you and Dustin had a wedding.. a platonic one, but a wedding nonetheless. He's never been happier that he got to be the wife.

- all jokes aside, you always expressed physical affection to Dustin because you knew that he'd be more than willing to receive it. Hugs, forehead kisses, simple gentle gestures, head pats, shoulder pats, etc. etc.

Maxine Mayfield;

- you low-key think she's scary but shoot your shots nonetheless.

- albeit, they're always met with frustrated silence, sarcasm or judgy glances.

- she acts like she hates it. Yeah, sometimes it truly pisses her off if she's in a bad mood and her social battery is low, but other than that, she kinda enjoys the attention from you.

- she actually liked you since she met you. not like.. actually like you, but you seemed nice, you seemed to have an understanding others lacked.

- she catches onto every single flirtatious remark you make. Every. Single. One.

- if you say something she doesn't like at all, she hits you in the back of the head, flicks your forehead or punches you in the shoulder. Fuck, her flicks are deadly.

- “can I braid your hair?” was a question you asked once. Max just turned to look at you with a soft smile. “Fuck no.”

- “oh-”

- physical contact is not her strong suit. Of course, she loves it, but not every time. It also depends on how she's feeling. A thing she can never get tired of though is quality time. You could spend days with her and she wouldn't mind at all. As long as you don't bother her too much.

Billy Hargrove;

- the moment you open your mouth around him, you're playing with fire. Seriously. You don't know what is gonna set him off.

- fucking hates it. hates it hates it hates it.

- to say that he's your friend is.. an overstatement. He just tolerates your presence. Does not like when you say stupid shit.

- “you've got such a pretty face.” you complimented him once.

“i'm gonna beat the fucking shit out of you.”

“ohhh-kay.”

- would laugh it off but he knows you're into guys. he done seen it from a mile away bro 😭 gaydar strong as shit.

- was a bit bothered by you liking guys at first, though over a span of a damn week he couldn't be bothered enough to care.

- says he hates when you're around him but has spent more time with you than with anyone else.

- he's gotten too used to being around you.

- “where are we going?” you asked from the passenger seat of his car.

“a date, are you fucking-” he paused, blinking a couple of times. “my date.” he pulled over almost immediately, in a heart beat. “get out of the damn car.”

“you just-” you stammered for a moment. “good luck on your date.” you said in an encouraging tone, feeling defeated as you got out of the car, not even knowing where you are.

“don't need it.” he said bitterly as he drove off. Well, okay.

Steve Harrington;

- either laughs or gets flustered (doesn't show it).

- mocks you so much in return.

- DEFLECTS your compliments with mean comments like crazy.

- “ya look good today, Steve.”

“Couldn't say the same about you. Jesus, have you looked in the mirror this morning?” he said with a concerned smile.

- cheeky little shit. he'd jump in traffic if it meant he'd avoid saying a simple 'thank you' to your compliments.

- he thinks you don't know that your flirting affects him. it's way too obvious. dude's hands get clammy, unclenching and clenching his fists, rubbing his hands on his pants or his stance shifting after a compliment. the signs are subtle, sure, but not invisible.

- the tension between you two is CRAZY. yeah he gets flustered if you say something out of pocket but he's not scared to hold eye contact. I mean, if you're not looking. if you are, he's not sparing a damn glance your way.

- CHECKS YOU OUT SO MUCH. AND FOR NO REASON. dude's a natural flirt.

- he has flirted back like a total of 5 times. otherwise he'd just brush you off fr.

Nancy Wheeler;

- SOMEBODY GET THE DAMN AMBULANCE.

- if she likes you and your vibe, she flirts back. SHE FLIRTS FIRST MORE.

- you thought you'd get her flustered? Nah, she's giving you signs dude.

- she'd make 'accidental' physical contact with you, like gently brushing her hand against yours and shit like that. just to tease you.

- shameless with her flirting. Seriously. She doesn't say much in front of others but if you're alone you can't catch a break.

- she'd speak a sentence that has a clear implication of something dirty and then when you ask her about it, she'd give it another meaning.

- eye contact eye contact eye contact, she loves it

- one time, the two of you were hanging out in your room. You were going to a wedding tomorrow, and Nancy knew that.

“fuck, I don't have any nice clothes. What do I wear for tomorrow?” You asked her, hoping for some advice.

“i'd rather you wear.. nothing.” she said mindlessly, flipping through a book.

“..Nance.”

“what, you asked me, I answered.” She said with a small chuckle.

Joyce Byers;

- she catches onto your flirting but she overthinks it and eventually comes to the conclusion that you're just being friendly.

- a good thing about your flirting is that it would lighten her mood if she's upset or deep in thought.

- she jokes back at your flirting but immediately regrets it, thinking she sounded stupid

- she loves when you wrap an arm around her shoulders, it gives her a sense of security. Some sort of it, anyway. Always gives you a small slightly awkward smile when you initiate physical contact with her, too.

- so afraid of being misled that even when you sent her flowers, a huge bouquet of it, she thought it was a friendly gesture, again. Jonathan and Will argued with her about it.

- is finally convinced that you're into her when you wink at her across the room, being discreet.

- no seriously, all of that and the only time she thinks you're into her when you're winking at her. Not when you're openly flirting with her or sending her gifts..

Jim Hopper;

- DOESN'T EVEN LOOK AT YOU.

- everyone at the police department knew you flirted with Jim. But due to him ignoring you constantly, you gave your pick up lines to his co-workers, and made them say the cheesy words to him. Ended them with a 'yours truly, [Name]'. Always.

- that got him to talk to you. He was pissed off, sure, but he still talked to you. And that was better than nothing. Told you to stop - you didn't.

- dude threatened to arrest you for harassment.

- he'd clench his jaw whenever he had to stand next to you.

“Can't tell if you're tense because you want to kiss me so bad or because you wanna beat the shit out of me.” you said, your tone amused yet held a hint of fake seriousness.

“I'm about to shoot you.” He answered, his tone flat and nonchalant.

“hm. not really fond of that idea, thanks though, Jimmy.”

That was his last straw and he genuinely pulled a gun on you.

- of course, after that, it didn't stop you from flirting with him anyway.

- whenever his colleagues see you nearby, they point you to him and urge him to ask you out. He was starting to hate everyone because of you.

Dmitri Antonov;

- Acts annoyed when you gush over his russian accent. though it makes him feel more comfortable about it, more confident.

- most of the time he flirts back in English. Or just says “oh yeah?” with a small smile of disbelief.

- whenever he responds to you in russian.. he is talking shit about you. Not that he hates you, but sometimes your words are too much for him and the only thing he can do is let it out through violently shit talking you. To convince himself that you're 'not all that'.

- deep down hle knows that you are though.

- if he feels flustered, he averts his gaze, shakes his head and/or buries his face in his hands.

- avoids talking to you at any given time, only does it when he has to.

- touch him in any sort of way and he's STIFF AS FUCK. dude's a statue. Unless he pushes you off.

Eddie Munson;

- feels extremely flattered when you flirt with him.

- of course, he flirts back.

- does an eyebrow wiggle anytime you say something suggestive.

- somehow manages to turn your normal sentences to awkward ones when he makes a dirty joke out of your words.

- “I lost my bracelet in a ball pit like a year ago,” you complained once the conversation turned to speaking about lost things.

“ball pit?” he asked, a small smile creeping up his face.

“Yeah?” You said with a raise of your eyebrow.

“Ball.. pit?”

“Dude.” you deadpanned.

- made a bet with Dustin that you're into him, that you're not just joking. Dustin had his suspicions but you didn't seem the type to like.. men. Or even if you did, you would've told him already.

- that's the biggest loss of his life. lil guy was FLABBERGASTED.

Jonathan Byers;

- cannot hold eye contact for the life of him.

- he gets kinda nervous when you're flirting. The first time you flirted dude was a stammering mess, fidgeting with his sleeves like a maniac.

- despite an established shyness he had around you, he enjoyed your company. you were a good friend.

- friend? You have never given someone so many hints that you like them.

- Argyle, when he was high, told Jonathan to just get together with you already because the pining was giving him second hand embarrassment.

- Jonathan has been even more shy around you since then.

- “That's a good photo, when'd you take that?” you asked simply, your eyes locked onto the photo in Jonathan's hand.

“Like-.. last month, uhm, during the trip-” he stammered out after a short pause, his head lowered. HE WAS BEET RED DUDE.

- “you have GOT to give me a kiss, I did such a good job?” You said in a joking manner.

Jonathan died inside, right then and there on the spot. His mouth hung open, staring at you wide-eyed.

Once you notice he was baffled, you huffed out a laugh. “I was kidding, you know. But I won't turn you down if you decide to actually kiss me-”

“[Name]—” he groaned out a whine of your name, disappointed by your last sentence as he tried to gather himself.

#male reader #fanfiction #headcanons #stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #jane hopper #eleven hopper #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #maxine mayfield #billy hargrove #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #joyce byers #jim hopper #dmitri antonov #eddie munson #jonathan byers

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koolades-world · 12 hours ago

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hiii i absolutely LOVE your writing! could i ask for the demon bros + Solomon with MC, that has anger issues (or something along the lines)? thank you in advance and have a great day!

hi! so glad you enjoy my silly writingssss

i just looked, and i did do something like this, but it was just with four characters. so, i hope you don't mind that i didn't include them. this post can be found here!

enjoy <3

Mc with anger issues p.2

Mammon

he might not understand what you might be feeling, but he wants nothing more than to help you

whatever helps you best, he'd like you to let him know

you can always talk to him, and he always make sure to carry around anything you might need with him

however, no matter what, he discourages you from unhealthy outlets such as the ones he partakes in. he wants you to find something that both works for you, and is better for you

Levi

he finds it best to channel his strong emotions into a game of some kind

for you, he recommends a game that you can't lose and get to destroy things. he also thinks horror games could do you well because of how sucked in you get while playing

as cheesy and stupid as it might sound, letting it all out is good. bottling things up doesn't work

if you ever need, you're welcome in his room to decompress

Asmo

he wants to do whatever he can to help you out!

he lets you in on his favorite way to get his anger all out: a rage room! he would love to go with you someday

but, he also understands that it's not sustainable so he helps you out in your day to day life as well

from a relaxing spa day, to meditation, he wants to find the best option for you

Belphie

he did and still does have a bit of an anger problem himself that you saw first hand

so, after the two of you get on better terms, he introduces you to star gazing

he knows it isn't much, but he wants to try his best for you. he finds it very soothing to relax and find the constellations

the two of you make it a nightly event to star gaze before bed

Solomon

he gifts you several magical items to help you out that he hopes will come in handy

this includes plenty of potions, enchanted items. as well as just generally nice smelling items. why, you might ask? he just thought you'd like nice smelling things haha

every time you see him, it feels like he has a new trick for you to try out

if you ever need to rant, or just talk in general, he's all ears

#gn reader #headcanons #obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me asmo #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me shall we date #obey me solomon #omswd #obey me! shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

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laur-talks · 3 days ago

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ranking ritsu's vb designs /lh

1. Normal

The only ritsu design, everyone else can leave. ok kire you can stay but youre on thin ice

2. Kire

I keep forgetting where his body ends and his veil begins, and so from a distance he just looks like a inky blob

3. Ace

This is like if a iced bicuit were nonbinary. No seriously, i can taste this image

4. Mabayu

The only reason i voted this higher than eve is because he has one of the only variations in hairstyle apart from uruha :sob:

5. The VVV Live Design (bonus entry)

It's giving teto synthv from wish, but it's still better than some of the other designs on this list

6. Eve

The colours are so garish that the only reason i remember this design exists is because my school has a poster with the periodic table of the elements as manga characters, and the girl from iridum looks like eve

6. Strong

I'm 99% sure that caffein made this design so that he could have an excuse to draw ritsu boobs, but his body up from the waist is built like a lego figure and i just can't get past that. (ritsu's, not caffein's)

7.Uruha

This is the only ritsu design i could realistically cosplay, since dresses are the bane of my existence, but then again, i don't want to look like a gothic leprechaun if i can help it

8. Deepvocal

Maybe it's because its the png always used on those stupid ass memes, but i genuinely have beef with this design. he looks like he would describe himself as being an "alpha sigma rizzler with the level 5 gyatt and the baby gronk mewing aura". and that's not even starting on his abs.....

9. Eve 2 or whatever this design is supposed to be

What. what is this. i genuinely thought that this design was a relic of the past from the eve design competition in 2014, and i kind of wish it still was. this flopped so hard omfg. blue does not suit him at all😭

i disagree with most of your opinions but oH MY G OD IM SO GLAD PEOPLE HATE THE BLUE ONE AS MUCH AS I DO LMAOAOAOAO

in THEORY the blue should work because it's a contrasting color to orange which is a major color in his design. but for some reason it just. doesn't. i can't see him wearing anything in that color

#ask #textbook-dinner #Ritsu #kire is my fav <3 #and i fucking hate ace #<- but that's less about design and more about me being petty #because i dislike them for more than just how they look #also what... whats vvv live...#deepvocal isn't even a different design than the normal one text you just have beef with his slayer pose 😔#PERSONALLY. i really like it because it actually gives him personality #the rest of the poses (aside from mabayu and uruha but i don't even count those two as Ritsu) are just STANDING THERE #no flavor. no idea what this guys attitude is #there's actual movement in the deepvocal pose which immediately makes it more interesting #GOTHIC LEPRECHAUN #??????????#AHAHHAHAH #eve doesn't exist to me. who is she. what do you mean. ritsu wouldnt wear that #i love love love the normal design but with a heavy heart I would only put it second to kire #i don't really have a good reason for this I just like it more #normal design also isn't very fun to draw because i can't wrap my head around how the skirt works #MAYBE its because kire is my sad girlie and i love her and i would kiss her #d. design competition???? ????????#god theres so much I don't know about this fandom i feel small

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ghostxrose · 23 hours ago

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Time Stood Still | Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Summary ~ Katsuki is tired of everything to do with soulmates and mushy love crap. The love stories that he's subjected to listen to are all the same; disgustingly sappy. Each one solidifies that he doesn't want, or have time for, love and a soulmate.. then he comes across you.

Tags/Warnings ~ Fem!Reader, character death, angst, sad ending, soulmate au, hurt no comfort, let me know if I should add any other tags..

Note ~ Hi, Lovelies! Sooo, this is me getting back into writing with just a teeny tiny bit of angst, lol.. It is short and not nearly as angsty as stuff I've written before, but I hope you enjoy it all the same! I love and appreciate you all, Lovelies!! <3 <3

Katsuki could feel his perpetual scowl deepen the further he scrolled through his social media feed. Every other post is a “found my soulmate” post, and he legitimately wonders just how he could be seeing posts like that every day with his friend list being so short. He also wonders why every post seems to say the same gushy crap every time. Honestly, he doesn’t even know why he bothers scrolling through any of his social media when it’s all the same crap. Every. Single. Day.

“Time stood still..”

Katsuki has heard or read those three words his whole life whenever people described meeting their soulmates. His parents, his relatives, and even some of his friends who have met their soulmates already. And it’s always the same sappy story that gets told leading up to that same stupid line.

“Time stood still..”

And he’s never believed it for a second because how stupidly cliche is it for “time to stop” when looking at someone? Even if that someone is supposedly who you’re meant to be with because some “higher power” said so.

“Time stood still..”

It’s all crap in Katsuki’s mind, straight-up bullshit. He doesn’t want or need a soulmate, and he doesn’t believe anything would happen if he ever met them. Time wouldn’t stop. No one would be running into each other’s arms. None of that gushy, lovey-dovey, movie crap would happen. It’s all completely unrealistic stuff that people add to their stories to make them sound better, and Katsuki doesn’t want any part of it.

Right as he’s hitting the point of wondering why there’s no “disgusted” button between every like and dislike button out there, a villain attack alert fills his phone screen. With the crackling of his comms coming to life officially marking the end of his lunch break, he slips his phone into his pocket. As he blasts off to the location of the villain attack, all thoughts of soulmates and sappy crap are replaced with the slightly feral excitement of an impending fight.

Getting to the scene, all of Katsuki’s excitement dissipates as he takes in the wreckage that has already been made. The operator he has been receiving details from had said that the villain’s Quirk is dangerous and destructive. Looking around at the crumbling buildings and cracked pavement, Katsuki feels the description was a gross understatement.

For only a moment longer, Katsuki watches the few rescue heroes that have already arrived on the scene work before he steels himself and takes off toward the latest location of the rampaging villain. When he does catch up to the villain, he’s secretly relieved to find other heroes have arrived as well. Deku, Kirishima, and a few other heavy hitters whose Quirks would work well against the villain’s Quirk. Wasting no time, Katsuki is patched through to the frequency that Deku and the other heroes are using, and he joins the battle.

The fight is grueling and goes on for hours before the villain is finally taken down and apprehended. It doesn’t feel like a win to Katsuki, though, not with the carnage left in the wake of the fight. There’s rubble everywhere from downed buildings, chunks of pavement are missing from the ruined streets, and then there are the casualties.. There aren’t as many as there could have been, but they are still civilian lives lost. Katsuki forces himself to stay in hero mode as he helps with rescue efforts. He can focus on the pain of his injuries and his self-deprecating thoughts later.

He continues moving through a half-collapsed apartment building, calling out and asking if anybody needs help. He manages to help a few injured civilians out of the building, making sure to get them to the teams of medical personnel right away. Luckily, it seemed that most of the people who had lived in that apartment building managed to evacuate before the villain came ripping through it.

In the midst of helping an elderly woman to an ambulance, Katsuki notices a few medics surrounding somebody and performing CPR on the person. Kirishima is standing off to the side of them with a grim and guilty look on his face. Katsuki quickly makes sure the elderly lady is in the care of a medic before making his way over to his friend. Now, Katsuki is absolutely not the face of comfort, but in growing up he tries to be there for his friends when they need it, damn it.

“Red,” Katsuki rasps out, his tone a touch gentler than it normally is as he walks up to his friend.

“She.. she was barely breathing when I found her, but I.. I thought that if I was fast enough, they could help her..” Kirishima explains helplessly, his voice thick with emotion, as he continues staring at the scene in front of him.

It’s then that Katsuki looks over at the medics and the woman they are trying to save. Unfortunately, he chooses to look over right as they declare the time of death and they all step back from the woman. Getting a clear look at her, Katsuki’s breath catches in his chest, and a pain like he’s never felt before spreads through his chest.

He had believed it was all bullshit. He had believed that everyone just spewed that crap to make their stories more sappy and gushy. He’s never even wanted a soulmate. Never believed he could love some stranger even if they were meant for him. Time doesn’t stop for anyone or anything, so why carry the belief that it would even feel like that while looking at some random? It was all crap in Katsuki’s mind..

Until now.

Staring at your limp and lifeless body, a peaceful look on your face underneath the blood and dust, Katsuki is in complete disbelief. It.. it was all supposed to be bullshit. He didn’t even know it was truly possible to feel anything like this..

“Baku- Dynamight? Are you okay? Did you know her?” Kirishima’s voice sets everything back into motion, and it’s fucking painful.

Gritting his teeth as tears well up in his eyes without his permission, Katsuki’s voice rasps quietly, “I think.. she was my soulmate.”

Anything else Kirishima says is lost to Katsuki as he feels his knees give out, his chest feeling like a hole was blown through it. The pain of loss consumes him, choking him with a lump of emotions he never thought he’d feel. Thoughts of what it would have been like to get to know you, what your voice sounded like, how you would have helped him learn how to love someone.. they all race through his head, crossing the painful finish line of it all being ripped away from him before he’s even had the opportunity to give the whole soulmate thing a chance.

His whole goddamn life, Katsuki had never believed a word anybody said about love and soulmates. Then he saw you and in the worst way possible..

Time stood still.

Divider Credit ~ @deadbranch

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ominoose · 21 hours ago

Text

𝐎𝐬𝐜 𝐈𝐬𝐜 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭

For my beloved son @jinjersnapz. I know I'm surprised I finally got around to doing this as well. Enjoy :*

Characters: Orderly!Blue, Jonathan, Nathan, Shiv, Jack Warnings: Vague fantasy death and torture references.

𝐎𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲!𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬

He saw some 'fuckwit' cleaner playing it on their phone and confiscated it. The moment his office door shut curiosity compelled him. Out loud he murmured that the app was 'stupid', meanwhile for the new few hours of his shift he continued taking over the poor cleaners world until the phone went from 84% to 17% and the diamond chest was emptied.

Most of the time he spent killing things, setting TNT off in the villages, luring creepers into pits of lava and eventually setting traps for any mob in sight. He has a particular hatred for parrots, their habit of mimicking mobs always startling him, especially if it was a spider or zombie sound, the paranoia would set him into a rage until his iron sword had hacked the poor bird to death.

𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐲

The first time he played this game was in its early days, on an old Xbox, with his daughter. In her youth, she was mostly interested in finding dogs, giggling when Jonathan exaggeratedly fought off zombies and making oak plank houses with neon pink wool in creative mode.

Many years later, when his daughter was too old and cool to game with her dad, Jonathan found the old console and game while cleaning out the attic. Nostalgia plucked at his heart and led him downstairs to the living room to boot it all up. The updates took ages, and two cups of coffee ad a cigarette later he was sat there punching a tree.

Quickly he realised he was more of a creative mode man, much like his daughter, wanting to get lost in building a little plank house, starting a farm and amassing a small army of dogs.

A week later, he's watching YouTube tutorials on building cottages with working chimneys and maximizing villager profits.

𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧

He was the one that made the working Windows 7 in Minecraft. And the working red-stone powered Die Hard movie.

Ironically, he hated gaming in his younger days, opening more to it as he grew older. Getting up to workout every time there was a minor coding mishap was becoming a drag when setting elaborate red-stone traps to commit war crimes on innocent villagers was free.

On the odd occasion when he's had too many beers, he boots up a crazy mod pack, be it a zombie apocalypse, flood map or something that changes all the mobs to Nicolas Cage.

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐯

Playing minecraft was a nightly occurrence between Shiv and his son, always putting an hour or two into their shared world before bed.

To Shiv, playing wasn't something he did to appease his son, Minecraft was equally serious to both of them. The man finds himself going to sleep and planning their next nether trip on the odd night, or going to work still pissed off from the creeper that blew up the edge of their base the night before.

Despite being equally as scared of the mines as his son, Shiv takes up sword and shield to protect the boy and their cat as they strip mine.

He also threw his son a minecraft themed birthday party, partially for his own amusement.

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧

Had never heard of a 'mined craft' until he saw the display of it at a shitty target he was stealing from. Went back every day for a week straight to play on the little 'gizmo', being surprisingly peaceful with a little homestead and farm as he adventured.

Came back one day to see some kid had blew his stuff up and he wired a bomb to go off after the store closed so no one could enjoy it.

#oscar isaac #blue jones #nathan bateman #jonathan levy #mojave jack #shiv #sorry its short mwah #omiwrites

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idle-flower · 16 hours ago

Note

Amy Madison is one of those things which, like some of the subplots of DS9, I assumed that I'd missed something the first time around and that there was a lot more to it, and was disappointed on a rewatch to find that... no, not really.

Like, I thought it was super-cool that there was this tiny minor character with stuff going on in the background who would resurface seasons later instead of a "remember the new guy" plot! And obviously Willow cared about this girl and there was a whole story there, right? I wasn't religiously watching the show when it first aired so I'd probably just missed whatever her story was!

So then I did a big rewatch with a friend who'd never seen Buffy before and... ehh.

(Now, I never watched season 7 and have stricken it from my personal canon, so that already limits me.) I want Amy to make more sense and to have more story. In those few appearances there are just enough threads of a story that I can totally build a bunch of ideas, but they rapidly diverge from canon.

Because yeah, there's the "Amy decides to delve into witchcraft". Many good reasons why she might, protection from someone messing with her again being an obvious one, dark fascination and love/hate with her mother being another, but she's never given the chance to tell that story.

There's the "Amy back from the dead" which was HORRIBLY disappointing how glossed-over it was. Amy's real-world situation is more fucked-up than Buffy's was! Was she declared legally dead? How many people had any idea what had happened to her? (What happened to that Michael kid who was also in their witch circle? He knew, right? Did he used to visit Rat-Amy?) When she finally went to find her father how did she explain this to him, or did she panic and mind-whammy him because she *couldn't* explain? There could have been more detailed connections here with both Buffy's problems and Willow's problems, without having to go the ridiculous route of...

"Amy's magic druggie problem" Even leaving aside that this entire plotline is horrible, stupid, and horribly stupid, I don't for a second believe that a girl who's been stuck as a rat for years could instantly find the super-secret floating lair of the local druglord. She clearly didn't have that sort of hookup before and it wouldn't be that easy for her to find it now. She's years out of touch! And she should be struggling with magic now. She was not as powerful as fully-juiced Willow to begin with and the trauma of being ratted ought to be giving her the yips. Even if she knew this guy existed and never told Willow about it in high school for some reason, it ought to be a difficult quest on her part to find a way in.

"Amy wants revenge on Willow" A perfectly good plotline idea if they'd actually worked with it in the show, which would require making her more of a major character for a while. Because yeah, getting mad at Willow for 'ruining' her life is plausible, but we need to see Amy's life falling apart first. Even if it's almost-all offscreen because she's not a Real Scooby, it should take time for her to develop this hate-on for Willow. Because at first she'd be grateful for being saved, and then as she slowly realised how screwed she was, then she becomes resentful. Sort of an inverse of Buffy who wasn't happy about being saved and then comes to terms with it, Amy slowly gives up on trying to have her life back and decides to throw in with the dark side.

Just spitballing here. Willow, desperate to prove that she can do good things with her magic powers, de-rats Amy. Amy is thrilled at first but becomes more and more distressed as she realises that life has left her behind. How's she going to fix things with her dad? And Willow suggests magic. Willow takes her home, makes her dad accept everything with a mind-whammy, zap-zap-zap's Amy's long-turned-into-storage bedroom into something cool and modern and witchy, and leaves Amy there, feeling super proud of herself. See, it's easy! Magic really can fix everything! Cut back to Amy, alone in the dark, twitching in terror at the sounds of cats, trying to cast little spells and having them go wrong...

Reverse Unpopular Opinion: Amy Madison

[Reverse unpopular opinion meme.]

This is an interesting one because I think there’s a solid argument to be made that the character of “Amy Madison” does not, in fact, actually exist on the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

By which I mean … look, okay, yes, obviously, there is a character in an early Season 1 episode called Amy Madison, played by Elizabeth Anne Allen. And there’s a character with the same name in a Season 2 episode, and [in an admittedly weird coincidence] she’s also played by Elizabeth Anne Allen. And there’s one in Season 3, and a one in a few episodes of Season 6, and one in an episode of Season 7, and all of them are played by the same actor.

But … I mean, come on. There’s no way these can all be the same character, right? They don’t have the same basic back story or the same relationship to magic or to Willow; they certainly don’t have anything resembling a definite personality or set of motivations or a consistent character arc. No, surely what’s going on here is that there are several different “Amy Madisons” in Sunnydale – just like there are several different characters called Anne or Nancy on the show – and in a bizarre in-joke the writers simply decided to cast the same woman to play all of them.

Now, ordinarily, simply being written inconsistently over a handful of episodes and not having anything resembling the same personality from week to week would be no obstacle to having a few die-hard fans. But – as far as I can tell, anyway? – there’s no “fandom Amy” either. She never really gets mentioned when people want to talk about how all the Scooby Gang had awful mothers [even though Amy actually did, explicitly and inarguably, have a very, very awful and openly abusive mother!]. There’s very little in the way of Amy/Willow shipping going on here or on AO3 [even though witchcraft is heavily coded as a metaphor for being a lesbian and Amy, one of the first witches we meet on the show, is repeatedly linked to Willow throughout the show’s run]. There are no adorable drawings of Amy as a rat staring out of her cage at Willow and Tara (or if there are, they aren’t getting as many notes as they should be getting).

No, it looks like most people who are still watching and talking about the show twenty-five years later have about as much interest in poor Amy Madison as the writers did. She’s a plot device. A punchline. A cipher. A blank slate. She’s whatever the plot requires her to be to further the stories of the actual characters on the show, and she’ll never ever be anything else. Which is a little sad, if you think about it. I think Amy – or, well, most of the different Amys: The Killer In Me’s smirking evil-for-evil’s-sake Amy I’m not so sure about – deserved better.

[As I write this the thought occurs to me, belatedly, that I might be one of Amy Madison’s biggest fans. Pretty grim news for her if so.]

OK. Enough stalling. Five positive things about Amy Madison [with, as ever, the usual caveat about the comics, which I’ve still not read anything about and still don’t exist].

Witch, Amy’s debut appearance, is a solid episode! One of that season’s best, I think (though not, of course, one of its very best). And I think the duo of Elizabeth Anne Allen's Amy Madison (and Robin Riker as her mom Catherine) is a big part of why that episode works: no, they haven’t got a huge amount to work with, but I think they both do a pretty good job switching between evil witch Catherine and innocent victim Amy. Catherine’s bodyswap spell foreshadows (albeit unintentionally) the bodyswap artifact that the Mayor gifts Faith in This Year’s Girl / Who Are You? and I’ll always have a soft sport for it because of that. And I really like that the episode ends with Amy alive and hanging out with Buffy in a way that suggests that they are going to stay friends, even if we don’t see any evidence on screen that that happened.

Sarcasm aside, I’m really glad the writers brought Amy back in the second season. To me, part of the appeal of the high school years are the recurring minor characters – I talked about Principal Snyder before, but also Jonathan and Devon and Percy and Harmony and … yes, Amy too. The show obviously doesn’t care about her very much, and you have to do a lot of mental gymnastics to fill in the missing pieces of her story and make her arc make sense (why is she starting to do magic in Season 2? When does she start hanging out with Willow?), but … well, I do care and I have done those gymnastics. At least Amy didn’t end up like Marcie Ross or Buffy’s old flame Owen or any of those poor kids who must remember eating Principal Flutie.

I’ve been reading a few old interviews Elizabeth Anne Allen gave recently (here and here, for example) which I think have some pretty interesting insights into how the character of Amy developed. Had you ever heard there were persistent rumors at one point that Amy was going to be one of the starting regulars on Angel? It’s mind-boggling to think about a world where that happened. Allen seems to have put a huge amount of thought into her character, too, at least for her first few appearances, which … uh, I guess makes me feel a bit shitty about those opening paragraphs. [Not enough to delete them though…] Also in one of the linked interviews she says that she “hopes she won’t be a rat much longer” – and that’s an interview she gave before the Season 3 finale had even made it to air, which made me pretty sad to read. Forget appearing on Angel, imagine if Amy had been de-ratted in Season 4. Imagine if Superstar was about Amy instead of Jonathan.

There is a second or two in Season 6’s Smashed – no more than that – when Buffy and Amy are catching up again (“How have you been?” “Rat. You?” “Dead.” “Oh.”) and you can, if you’re quick, delude yourself into thinking that the show is going to do something interesting with the obvious parallel it’s just set up. Willow has now not only brought Buffy back into the regular human world [and left her struggling to live and find meaning as a college drop out with a dead mother and an absent father last seen on screen about five years ago], she’s also brought Amy back into the regular human world [and left her struggling to live and find meaning as a de facto high school drop out with a presumed-dead mother and a presumably-now-absent father last mentioned about five years ago]. Surely this must be deliberate? Well, no: the show doesn’t do anything with this idea ever again, because Marti Noxon had very different [worse] ideas for Amy’s character this season, but if you pretend it might be about do something like that it’s a pretty exciting couple of seconds.

The fact that “Amy Madison” exists as a (technically!) canon character means that I can write (or daydream about writing) fanfiction in which Willow has a friend in high school who is also a practising witch. One with a vague but miserable home life, who is secretly in love with Willow but too afraid to admit it (and so she keeps professing to be interested in men who she can’t possibly ever expect to date, either because they’re unpleasantly vile toward women or openly gay or both). And I can do that while, just about, pretending that I have not created the most embarrasingly psychologically revealing OC you ever heard about in your life. Thanks Amy!

#btvs #buffy #amy madison #idea bunnies

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