#just remembered an artist I followed getting dragged

[balarai]

I really hate callout culture... Like really fuckn hate it.

People seem to take the worst possible take on a post and then drag more people into their little mob through anon and then use trivial fandom bullshit to justify death threats and hazing. And the fact that the mob uses ANON most of the time to spread their claims just rubs me the wrong way...

It's usually people who have been built up on a pedestal in some way... Either for their creative skills/work or for their opinions/ social skills. Idk it honestly feels like people LOOK for reasons to tear someone down, or make false claims to try and build an us vs them mentally.

The target likes a ship with teenagers?? Or with a 5 year age gap?? Obviously a pedophile and pervert. The target likes a character we have deemed problematic? They're an abuse apologist!! (looking at you problematic SU fandom, you know what you did). Target made a post that mentioned some that could be problematic if you squint and shift 5 dimensions to the left, obviously they are dangerously misinformed and actively harmful!!

There is a reason we as a society have the justice system and we don't follow mob mentality. If you don't like someone, block their social media and move on with your life. If they are actually harming someone, like actual abuse not petty fandom drama, then go through the appropriate channels but for fuck sake don't think hazing and cancel culture is the appropriate way to handle things.

[lupinqs]

MIGRAINE ━━ paige bueckers x teammate!reader

☆ ━ summary: on big east media day, you’re unfortunate enough to get a migraine

☆ ━ word count: 2.9K

☆ ━ warnings: descriptions of migraines, throwing up

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, based off of this req

☆ ━ author’s note: two fics in one night omg WHO AM I??? also i promise this is not rlly dramatized y’all this is quite literally how my migraines are …….… wish i had a paige during them 😞

BIG EAST media day—it’s today. Usually, you don’t mind media days at all. Actually, you tend to enjoy them. But, clearly, today you’re not meant to.

As soon as the sun broke through the windows of the New York hotel, Paige had woken to the sight of your scrunched-up face, a hand pressed to your temple. You both knew what it meant: you had a migraine, and today of all days, it had to hit with full force.

Paige had immediately rolled out of bed, grabbing your migraine medication from your bag that you’d luckily remembered to bring in a “just in case” situation. However, you’d been resistant to at first, knowing full well that the medicine would upset your stomach like it always does, but Paige had insisted, forcing you to take it. “You know we can’t skip today. Just take it, baby. It’ll help with the pain.” Reluctantly, you’d taken the pills, and with an an hour, just as you were sitting in hair and makeup, the side effects hit. You’d bolted from your chair, leaving the startled makeup artist behind as you rushed to the bathroom to puke your guts up.

Paige had followed immediately, kneeling beside you in the small, cramped bathroom stall, rubbing your back as you heaved into the toilet. The nausea subsided eventually, but Paige was worried you’d thrown up all the medicine in the process. You hadn’t had time to find out, though—there were interviews to do, and you, always the professional, was stubborn enough to push through.

Now, you and Paige sit side by side, a row of reporters in front of you, microphones held up like weapons ready to attack. The lights in the gym are blinding, and the low hum of chatter, camera clicks, and reporters scribbling notes fill the space. It’s the last place you want to be.

Paige, sensing your discomfort, takes the lead in most of the interviews. She fields question after question, her voice steady and charming as she answers everything from season goals to the team’s camaraderie. Next to her, you sit rigidly in your chair, staring at the ground, fingers pressing hard into your palms as if trying to will the pain away.

Every so often, a reporter directs a question at you, and Paige watches closely, knowing that forming coherent, professional sentences is probably the last thing you want to do. Still, you force a tight smile and give a short, clipped response, voice strained but composed. The pain etched across your face is subtle, but it’s there—just enough for Paige to notice, though you try your best to keep your expression neutral.

It’s damn near agonizing for Paige to watch you like this, especially when she knows how badly you’re hurting. She can tell that the migraine’s wrecking you, she’s been there for so many at this point that she knows all the little signs like the back of her hand. She wishes she could turn the lights down, quiet the reporters, and just take you somewhere dark and silent to rest. But there’s nothing she can do—you just have to endure it.

As the interview drags on, one reporter, a man who looks younger and more inexperienced than the others and who’s clearly growing impatient with your curt answers, rudely points at you, addressing you by name before saying, “You really don’t look like you want to be here today. I mean, is something wrong with you?”

The words come out sharp and are strictly unprofessional. Your eyes flicker toward the reporter, though you can’t see half of him due to the darkness shadowing parts of your vision. You open your mouth, then close it, unsure of what to say. Your brain is hardly functioning, the throbbing in your skull is unbearable, and you can’t even muster the strength to care about his tone. All you want is for this to be over.

But Paige cares.

Her gaze snaps to the reporter, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Her posture shifts, body leaning slightly forward, protective instincts kicking in immediately. Usually, she’d stay more poised, composed, let her media training do the work for her. But she isn’t about to let anyone talk to you like that, especially not today.

“Excuse me?” Paige’s voice is sharp, cutting through the room. She’s sure that there’s a camera recording this right now but she quite literally could not care less. “What did you just say?”

The reporter, startled by Paige’s reaction, fumbles for a moment before stammering, “Um, I just mean that she looks… unwell. She’s not really answering the questions.”

Paige’s jaw tightens. “Maybe you should think before you speak next time. She’s here, answering your questions to the best of her ability despite not feeling great, and you should respect that instead of makin’ snide comments.”

The side of the gym they’re on grows even quieter, the weight of Paige’s words settling in the air. You, who’s still staring at the floor, blinks, heart swelling with gratitude. You don’t really have the energy to defend yourself, let alone sit up with your eyes open against the bright lights, but knowing Paige has your back—it’s everything.

The reporter, realizing he’s on thin ice, mutters an apology, his face turning red under the harsh lights. Paige doesn’t bother to acknowledge it, her focus shifting back to you, her hand subtly reaching out to squeeze your knee under the table.

The rest of the interview continues, but Paige’s attention is divided now. She keeps on eye on the reporters, answering questions with ease, but her other eye is always on you, watching closely. Your face has gone even paler, and every few minutes, your eyes flutter shut as if you don’t even have the strength to keep them open against the blinding pain.

Finally, the session begins to wind down, and as soon as the last question is answered, Paige is out of her chair, gently taking your arm and leading you away from the microphones and cameras. The two of you step into a hallway, away from the noise and lights, and as soon as you’re alone, you lean heavily against the wall, closing your eyes with a shaky breath.

“Jesus,” you mutter, rubbing your temples. “Feel like my head’s about to explode.”

Paige wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “I know, baby. You did so good, though. We’re almost done, okay? Just a little longer, and then I’m taking you back to the hotel. Dark room, no noise, just you and me.”

You nod, though even that small motion seems to cause you pain. And you pray that she does good on that promise, especially as the two of you go back into the gym. You end up sitting on a bench next to Azzi waiting, resting your head on her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut in a desperate attempt to block out the harsh gym lights and constant noise. Your head throbs with a relentless pulse, nausea rolling in waves, and your entire body feels like it’s on the verge of collapse. Azzi’s softly rubbing your arm in a comforting rhythm, whispering little encouragements.

But when Geno and CD approach, apologetically telling Paige that she and you have one more interview to do, Paige immediately starts protesting.

“No. No way. I can do it by myself,” she says firmly, already standing in front of the two coaches, shielding you from them like a protective wall. “She’s not in the right state for this. Just look at her.”

Geno and CD turn their heads to look over at you. You’re still slumped against Azzi, face pale and drawn. Your lips are pressed into a tight line, and your eyes are glossed over, clearly fighting back tears of pain. It’s not a pretty sight.

“I know, Paige,” CD says, eyes soft with sympathy. “We hate this as much as you do. But this interview is important. She’s got to do it, too.”

Paige’s jaw clenches, eyes flashing. “CD, come on,” she says in what can only be called a plea. “Please—she’s hurting. She’s in pain. You’re tellin’ me we can’t work somethin’ out?”

Geno sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I wish we could, kid,” he tells her. “But this is the last one, I promise. After this, you can take her back.”

Paige mutters a curse under her breath, her frustration boiling beneath the surface. She glances back at you, who’s face is so pale and worn-out that it makes Paige’s stomach twist.

“Fine,” she says finally, voice tight with defeat. “But this is the last time I’m putting her through this.”

Geno and CD both give a nods of understanding, and Paige turns, making her way back over to you. Kneeling in front of you, she places a gentle hand on your knee. “Hey,” she whispers, her voice soft with regret. “I’m so sorry, baby, but we gotta do one more interview. Just one more, and then you’re done, yeah?”

You open your eyes, and the utter pain in your expression makes Paige’s heart ache. You look like you’re damn near about to cry, eyes brimming with unshed tears, but you nod weakly anyways, ready to do what you need to even though you’ve clearly hit your limit.

Paige sighs, hating this situation more than anything. She leans in, pressing a light kiss to your forehead, hoping in vain that it might ease some of the pain within your cerebrum. “I promise, after this, I’m taking you away, okay? I ain’t letting anyone stop us.”

You nod again, swallowing hard as you fight to keep yourself in check. Paige stands, gently helping you to your feet, and together, the two of you make your way toward the interviewers, you subtly leaning on Paige as much as you can, because if you’re honest, you can’t see most of your surroundings.

The interview itself is a nightmare. The questions seem never-ending, and although Paige answers most of them, there’s still some directed only at you that you’re responsible for. Each time, you know you sound stupid, voice hoarse and response almost incoherent. The lights are too bright, the noise too overwhelming, and by the end of it, you visibly look like you’d rather die than be here.

As soon as the interview is done, you don’t even wait for Paige. You rush out of the gym, once again heading straight for a hallway where it’s at least a little bit darker. Paige hurries after you, catching up just as you half-collapse against the wall, fighting tears.

“It hurts so bad, P,” you cry raggedly. You clutch at your head, hands trembling as you press them to your temples before moving them over to your eyes, squeezing them shut and pressing your palms against them hard. “I—fuck—I can’t—”

Paige’s stomach constricts. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you close, pressing your face into her neck to shield your eyes from any and all light. “Shh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Paige whispers, making sure to be as quiet as possible, voice filled with soothing warmth. She gently rubs your back, rocking you slightly as you’re near-sobbing against her.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Paige murmurs thickly. “I shoulda fought harder to get you outta that. But I’mma take you back to the hotel now, okay? I don’t care what the fuck else we’re supposed to do today.”

You don’t respond with words, just nod weakly against Paige’s neck, fingers clutching tightly at the blonde’s shirt as if trying to ground yourself.

Paige carefully guides you to sit on a bench in the hallway, leaning you back against the cool wall. “Wait here for just a sec, okay? I’mma be right back, just gotta tell Coach and CD we’re leaving.”

You nod again, your eyes fluttering closed as you rest your head against the wall. Paige brushes her thumb over your cheek, her heart splinting all over again at the sight of you in so much fucking pain. Then, with determination in her step, Paige turns and goes in search of Geno and CD.

When she finds them, they’re in the middle of talking to a few other staff members, but Paige doesn’t care. She marches up to them, her expression set in stone.

“I’m taking her back right now,” Paige says firmly, unwavering. “I’m sorry, but I don’t care what else we’re supposed to do here. She’s in too much pain, and I’m not putting her through any more of this. And I’m definitely not sending her back by herself.”

CD looks like she wants to argue, but one look at Paige’s determined face, and Paige can tell the older woman knows it’s pointless. Geno sighs, his shoulders sagging.

“Go,” he says quietly. “Take her. We’ll handle the rest.” He gestures to himself and CD, then over to where Azzi, Ash, and Sarah stand.

Paige nods once, her gratitude unspoken but clear. She doesn’t waste another second, turning on her heel and heading straight back to you. Once she gets to you, she helps you up, wrapping a firm arm around your waist. The two of you head toward the doors and then are out into the cool air of the New York streets. The noise of the city hits you like a wall—cars honking, sirens wailing faintly in the distance, the chatter of pedestrians—but Paige moves quickly, guiding you down the sidewalk.

The hotel is technically within walking distance, but Paige refuses to put you through that. Instead, she stops at the curb, pulls out her phone, and hails an Uber.

“It’s okay,” she whispers as you press yourself against her side, hiding your face in her shoulder as the nausea rolls through you again. “‘M not making you walk, don’t worry.”

The car pulls up almost immediately. Paige helps you inside first, sliding in next to you and carefully pulling you into her side again, buckling your seatbelt for you. It’s probably the shortest car ride of either of your lives, and you don’t say a word for any of it, just continuing to rest your head on her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. Paige presses a soft kiss to your temple, reassuring you you’re almost there.

When the car pulls up to the hotel, Paige thanks the driver quickly, helping you out of the car with her hands steady on your hips. You cling to her without hesitation, your legs barely cooperating as, by this point, the majority of your body has gone numb. She doesn’t mind, though, guiding you through the lobby and toward the elevator. The ding of the doors makes you wince and Paige notices immediately. “I know, baby,” she murmurs softly, guiding you inside and pressing the button for your floor.

The ride up is quiet except for your unsteady breathing, and Paige’s grip never loosens. As soon as the doors open, she’s leading you to the room, swiping the keycard and pushing the door open in one smooth motion.

“Here we go,” Paige says gently, helping you inside. She lets you stumble toward the bed, watching closely as you basically collapse onto it with a shaky breath. Paige then moves to the windows, yanking the curtains shut until the room is bathed in near-total darkness. The relief is instant—you let out a soft sigh, your body relaxing just slightly as the pressure in your head dulls a little without the presence of light.

Paige isn’t done. She rummages through your bag until she finds your medication again, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge before kneeling next to the bed. “Hey,” she says softly, brushing your hair back from your damp forehead. “You gotta take this, yeah? It’ll help.”

You groan faintly in protest, turning your face into the pillow, but Paige doesn’t back down. “Ma, c’mon,” she coaxes, voice firm but still tender. “I know it sucks, but you gotta take it. Just one more thing, and then you can rest.”

Reluctantly, you crack your eyes open, barely able to see her face in the dark, but you feel the pill pressed gently to your lips. You take it without complaint this time, swallowing it down with a sip of water Paige helps you hold.

“Good job, baby,” she praises, pressing another kiss to your forehead. She sets the bottle on the nightstand before kicking off her shoes and climbing into bed with you, immediately wrapping her arms around you. She pulls you close, her chest flush against your back, one arm sliding under your head to cushion it while the other wraps proactively around your waist.

“I’ve got you,” she whispers softly into your ear, her breath warm against your skin. “It’s okay, baby. Just breathe. ‘M right here.”

You whimper faintly in response, you body still shaking, but you relax the tiniest bit in her hold. Paige’s touch is gentle, her thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over your stomach as she tries to calm you down. She presses a soft kiss to the back of your head, murmuring sweet nothings that you can barely process through the pain.

A small sob escapes you as a particularly harsh stab to your skull hits. Paige only pulls you closer, holding you like she can absorb all of your pain into herself. “I know it hurts. I know,” she says softly, her voice cracking slightly as she wishes, more than anything, that she could take it all away for you. “But I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m here. Always.”

And she means it—Paige Bueckers would hold you through every second of the pain if it meant you didn’t have to face it alone.

[latenightreadingpdf]

Knock on the Door - Spencer Reid

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: In the midst of an intense investigation, Spencer and Derek bring you into protective custody after a disturbing discovery links you to their case. As you navigate the unexpected situation, Spencer’s calm presence offers reassurance, sparking an unexpected connection amid the chaos.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The quiet street was a far cry from the usual high-stakes BAU scene, but the tension in the air made Spencer’s skin prickle with unease. He glanced at Derek, who was already preparing to knock on another door, exuding his usual calm confidence.

"This one could be a lead," Derek muttered, showing a slight glint of hope in his eyes as he raised his hand to knock. The case had been dragging on, and frustration was growing with each unanswered question.

When the door opened, Spencer noted the faint hint of confusion in your expression. Derek immediately flashed his badge, his tone respectful but firm. "Ma’am, I'm Agent Derek Morgan. This is my colleague, Dr. Spencer Reid. We’re with the FBI."

Your eyes darted between the two of them, registering the serious expressions they wore. "The FBI? What's going on?"

"Have you had any strangers come to your door recently trying to sell you something?"

A flicker of recognition passed over your face, and Spencer leaned in, catching the shift. "Actually, yes,” you said, brows furrowing. “A guy came by yesterday… He gave me his card.”

Spencer and Derek shared a look. "Do you still have that card?" Spencer asked, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice.

"Yeah, I think so. Let me grab it." You turned back into the house, leaving the door partially open, and returned a moment later with a card in hand. As Derek took it from you, he confirmed with a nod that it matched the cards left at the other crime scenes.

You looked between them, anxiety creeping into your voice. "What is going on? Who is this guy?"

Spencer’s voice softened, his gaze meeting yours directly. "We believe he's a dangerous criminal who may be responsible for several recent homicides. His method involves gaining entry to homes under false pretenses."

Your face paled as the weight of his words sank in. Derek placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We need to take you back to the station to make sure you’re safe. There are some steps we’d like to take to ensure you’re protected while we gather more information."

"Safe? Is he going to try and kill me?"

Derek’s expression turned serious. "We have reason to believe he might try to come back, and it’s important we get ahead of him."

A sense of dread settled over you as you let their words sink in. You followed them to the car, feeling your stomach twist with a mix of fear and disbelief. As you settled into the backseat, Spencer turned to give you a reassuring nod.

“Just so you know,” he began, his tone gentle, “we’ll have officers posted near your home to ensure he doesn’t have the chance to get in. We’re taking every precaution.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… a lot.”

“Understandable,” Spencer said, glancing at you with a sympathetic look. “We’ll also have you meet with a sketch artist and undergo a cognitive interview. It’s standard procedure, and it might help us learn more about him.”

You looked out the window, processing the reality of the situation. The quiet chatter between Derek and Spencer drifted over you as they discussed possible motives, patterns, and theories. But for now, you were too lost in your own thoughts to make out their words.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

When you arrived at the station, Spencer took a moment to walk you through the cognitive interview process. "It’s designed to help you remember specific details," he explained, his voice calm and assuring. "It might feel intense, but I’ll be with you the whole time."

You nodded, glancing around the bustling police station, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and adrenaline. "Okay, so… I just answer questions, and you’ll be able to get a clearer picture of this guy?"

Spencer gave you a small smile. "Pretty much. Think of it as helping us paint a portrait. Every detail, no matter how small, could be useful."

The interview went smoothly; Spencer’s presence was patient and encouraging, never making you feel pressured to remember something you couldn’t. Afterward, he led you to a small break room, offering you a seat at a worn table with a coffee machine humming nearby.

A few minutes later, Spencer returned with two steaming cups, handing one to you. "Here," he said, "it's not gourmet, but it’ll keep us awake."

You took it gratefully, feeling a sense of normalcy settle in. "Thanks, Spencer." You sipped the coffee, savoring the warmth. "I didn’t expect to spend my afternoon in an FBI station, but… it’s definitely more interesting than my usual routine."

Spencer chuckled, seeming surprised by your laid-back attitude. "Most people aren’t as calm in situations like this."

You shrugged, feeling the weight of the situation but refusing to let it get the best of you. "I don’t know. I figure, if I’m in good hands, there’s no point in freaking out."

As you chatted, Spencer filled you in on some of the behavioral profiling techniques they used, giving you a peek into the mind of the BAU. His eyes lit up as he explained the ways they’d been analyzing the unsub’s behavior to find any possible patterns, and you found yourself genuinely interested, asking questions and absorbing his answers.

"Do you ever wonder why people do these things?" you asked thoughtfully, watching him as he considered your question.

"All the time," Spencer replied, his voice softening as he looked down at his coffee. "But there’s rarely a straightforward answer. The best we can do is study the behaviors and try to make sense of them. Hopefully, it helps us stop them."

A sense of respect grew in you as he spoke, and you found yourself admiring the dedication he had for his work. "That sounds exhausting. Important, but exhausting."

"It can be," he admitted, his gaze meeting yours. "But it’s worth it, especially when it means keeping someone safe. Like now."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his sincerity. "Well, I guess I’m lucky you guys were around."

The door to the break room opened, and Derek poked his head in, giving Spencer a grin. "You two doing all right in here?"

Spencer nodded, standing up to update Derek on the details you’d given during the interview. As they talked, you finished your coffee, feeling a strange sense of calm despite the unusual circumstances.

When Derek turned his attention to you, his gaze softened. "We’re going to have a team set up around your house tonight, keeping a close eye on things. We’ll catch this guy if he shows up."

You nodded, feeling reassured. "Thanks, Agent Morgan. I know you guys are handling it, so I’ll let you do your thing."

Spencer glanced back at you with a small smile. "If you need anything, or have more questions, just let me know."

As they walked you to the main desk, Spencer looked back, his gaze soft. "We'll keep you safe," he assured you once more, his sincerity unmistakable. "Until then, try not to worry. We’re on it."

A small smile tugged at your lips as you nodded. "I trust you," you replied, giving them one last grateful look before they escorted you to a waiting area. And as you waited, you felt a sense of calm, knowing you weren’t facing this alone.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[akaashislover1]

How I think the jjk guys would join you in the shower…..

Yuji Itadori, Choso Kamo, Megumi Fushiguro, Takuma Ino [EVERYONE IS AGED UP TO THE PROPER AGE]

Yuji Itadori

He probably would bang at the door(which you’d have locked for reasons to follow) pleading that he’d have to pee.

“Go use the bathroom downstairs!” You yelled over the running water. Funny how he suddenly had to pee as soon as you started the shower.

“Please, baby, I gotta piss if I take one more step I’m gonna wet my pants!” He frantically exclaimed, trying the door handle.

“No, you’ll just make me late. Again.”

It was quiet. No begging, knocking. Nothing.

You sighed as you reached behind the shower curtain to unlock the door.

“Quick, get in here before I change my mind.”

Choso Kamo

You had undressed and jumped into the shower, the hot water welcoming you in.

“I also have to have a shower before we go to.” Choso politely urged you.

You peeked your head out of the curtain and looked at him brushing his teeth.

“Why don’t you just get in here now?”

Choso coughed on a bit of toothpaste. His hair was slicked back by one of your makeup headbands.

His face was so flushed but pale at the same time.

“W-what?! But you’re in the-”

“Cho. We just had sex last night, why are you acting like you’ve never seen me before?” You laughed and choso felt his face turn red in embarrassment.

Suddenly you dragged him into the shower before he could even take off his boxers.

He had his eyes closed respectfully.

“How are you gonna wash me up if your eyes are closed?” You asked and he opened one eye at a time.

When you gave him a smile he started to relax.

He took a moment to take the view of you in.

His throat lumped up in a knot as you passed him the soap.

Maybe he should’ve started showering with you sooner.

Megumi Fushiguro

He probably would already be in the shower.

“Can I join you?” You would ask him as you peeked through the shower curtain.

Megumi let out a breathy chuckle as he made eye contact with you.

“No, all you’ll do is try to fool around. We gotta meet Itadori and Gojo in an hour.”

You gave your boyfriend a stare and a scoff in an attempt to make him feel bad for you.

It didn’t work until you began to speak.

“Fine I guess I’ll just to take a nice long shower. By myself. Good thing that one has got an amazing shower hea-”

“Get in here.”

Takuma Ino

“Hey, babe! Please come in here quick! Hurry! It’s an emergency!” You screamed from the shower.

A few seconds later you heard the quick rumble of his footsteps.

The door opened and revealed to Ino’s eyes you lying perfectly fine soaking in the tub.

“Are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?” He asked out of breath.

You nodded your head no but a pout made its way to your face.

“The water is too cold without you.”

Ini rolled his eyes playfully,

“I can see the steam coming from the water, you liar.”

You shook your head no as Ino kept his eyes contact with you.

“Remember when I asked if you wanted to join me when I had a shower and you said no? Remember that babe?”

“This is different! It’s a bath. A shower is so quick and you hog all the water! Don’t you wanna soak with me?”

Ino gulped the nervous rock that was stuck in his throat as he thought about your bodies soaking in the tub.

Sighing, he answered, “Fine, but I am still offended from earlier.”

Woohoo!!🎉 I actually really like this one I think it’s pretty cute!!

Might make a part 2 with some other fine ass jjk men. 🩵🩵

Link to part 2💜

[always-just-red]

Hey, a fluff scenario for cuddling with Rafayel? Thank you 🐡✨

This one really got away from me ahaha, whoops. There's also a moment where my fine art degree really leaps out, so look forward to that, everyone. My first time writing for Raf - thank you anon!!

Perspective

Rafayel x Reader 🎨

Summary: You've spent two hours preparing a meal for Rafayel, and he has absolutely no intention of sitting down to it.

Genre: fluff fluff FLUFF!

Warnings/Additional tags: established relationship, cuddling, kisses, lots of intimacy tbh (soft, not spicy!)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Thirty minutes. You and Thomas had spent thirty minutes on the phone trying to figure out where your boyfriend actually was. Half an hour of he’s not with you? and no, I thought he was with you!— back and forth, like a metronome, and it wasn’t exactly the first time, either.

You’re seasoned investigators at this point: called constantly out of retirement for one last job you swear you’re too old for, and yet you know is never going to really be the last. You’ve already got matching t-shirts printed for the tortured agent’s next birthday: ‘Special Unit: Find Rafayel.’ (He won’t find it half as funny as you do.)

Neither of you had heard from the artist since Tuesday, and— it being Friday— he was either in his studio, painting, or definitely dead. It fell within your jurisdiction to find out, so you’d driven here two hours ago, texting Thomas upon arriving:

He's alive!! 🥳🥳🥳

You’re less excited about it now.

Stood at Rafayel’s kitchen island, you lay out the last of the buffet you’ve prepared to try to entice him away from his art. It’s worked in the past: has seen him sniff the air and follow his stomach to whatever you were cooking, like a stubborn stray cat.

“C’mon, Raf,” you call out, because he’s not taking the bait. “Food’s getting cold.”

“Not hungry!”

Your fists ball around the cutlery you’re setting down on the marble; he’s not eaten for three days. You glance up at him across the open space of his home, taking a deep breath through your nose as you watch him scrawl away at his painting. Somewhere in your mind, Thomas is speaking. This is what you signed up for, remember?

Reluctantly, you cross between the rooms, folding your arms as you come up behind Rafayel. “Raf,” you insist again, “come and sit down. Please? You need to eat something.”

“I’m fiiiiiine.” His paintbrush drags viridian over the lower third of his piece.

“You’re not fine,” you huff, and he doesn’t respond. “Rafayel.”

“Rafayel?” he mimics with a chuckle. “You’re mad.”

He’s ‘Rafayel’ in only two types of circumstance: when he’s making you really, really happy, or he’s making you consider the career-leap between bodyguard and assassin. It’s an extraordinarily thin line, and he just loves walking the tightrope.

“I’m not mad, just worried. Can’t you come eat with me? Your painting isn’t going anywhere.”

“It’s not,” he agrees, smoothing out a stroke of paint, “but what about my inspiration?”

“That’ll be waiting for you, too.”

“You think?” His lips curve as he pensively pokes at them with the wooden end of his brush. “I guess you did spend a lot of time cooking, huh? And if you’re really that worried, then…” He spins around with wide eyes. An epiphany. “Feed it to me?”

You stare back, unmoved by the puppy-like expression. He looks cute, yeah, but you’re not falling for it again. This is exactly how he looked earlier, when you’d convinced him to at least accept a glass of water. You’d almost drowned him in your subsequent efforts to actually get it down his throat.

Rafayel mixes three colours on his palette as you relive the ordeal. Like the once-white of his shirt, it’s awash with vibrant greens and blues, some fresh, some days-old. He pauses when he’s done, but you can tell he’s itching to get back to the canvas. “Give me, like… half an hour?” he estimates. The number’s been plucked from thin air. “The food’s gonna be delicious, even if it’s cold. You made it!”

“Raf, I—”

“And how can I even enjoy it if I’m racing to get back here? I wanna savour it, y’know? And anyway…” he trails off, his attention drawn by something above.

“Yeah?” you prompt, glancing upwards. There’s nothing there.

His gaze snaps back. “Sorry, the ceiling was doing something weird. But yeah, anyway, it’s not like you have to— I mean, it’s not like I’m going to— wait. What were we talking about again?”

Not much surprises you these days, but your mouth is still agape. Enough is enough. “Put the paintbrush down. You’re done.”

He nonchalantly returns to the painting. “I’m really not, though.”

You narrow your eyes. Reassess. “You were right about the ceiling.”

“Yeah?” He looks up.

You snatch the paintbrush. “Ha!”

He blinks blankly at you and your eagerly-clutched trophy, unfazed by the moment of triumph. “Cute trick,” he shrugs. He runs a finger across the palette and applies the new colour to the painting with a quick sweep. “What’s next, Miss Bodyguard? You gonna cut off my ha— ow, ow, ow! Hey! Take it easy!”

You’re pinching his ear, dragging him wordlessly to the kitchen, because you're out of things to say.

“Fine. Fine!” he groans as he tries to keep up with you. You release him and he straightens, his face pink, but not as pink as his ear. “You win! Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”

You stop dead in your tracks, then turn with a look so cold he couldn’t melt it with all of his fire.

“I mean— ahaha,” he laughs nervously, rubbing his neck. “It smells amazing, cutie. You’re amazing. I can’t wait.”

…

Rafayel sits back on his stool, still staring at his painting. The mood is different from earlier. There’s no more restlessness or impatience; he isn’t in a rush. He’s humming a soft song you’re almost certain you’ve heard before, but you can’t quite place the melody. It’s pretty, though: the sort of tune one might recall from a childhood music box, or maybe even a dream.

There’s a clink as you stack two finished plates. Then another. And another.

“Don’t,” Rafayel says quietly, catching your hand before you can collect the plate nearest to him. “I’ll do it later— promise. Sit with me?”

You were never going to say no, but his hands are on your hips before you can say yes, and he’s turning you gently— pulling you up onto his lap. You smile as his arms wrap around you, keeping you from slipping, and he’s warm as you relax back against him.

“What do you think?” he asks, staring out over your shoulder.

Your gaze follows his to the painting, still waiting for him. “It’s okay.”

“Oh yeah?” You can feel him chuckle before it reaches your ears.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a smile, shifting to face him as much as you can. “Kinda pales in comparison to my favourite masterpiece. This one,” you poke two fingers to his chest. “Right… about—” they walk higher, “—here!”

You boop his nose and he immediately scoffs, his face going red. “Sheesh,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eyes. “That was lame.”

“You’re blushing.”

“Am not!”

He squirms as you laugh and try to touch his cheeks; they’re going to feel hot, and he’s a sore loser. His hands don’t manage to capture yours, so they settle for finding your hips again, swivelling you around until you’re trapped by his embrace. You’re both one misjudged move away from toppling to the floor, so you let him keep his victory. What’s left of his dignity, too.  

Your laughter rescinds like a tide, but the quiet is far from empty.

“C’mon,” Rafayel tries again. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, nudging your head, urging you to look forward. His hair is feather-soft on your skin, and he peppers chaste kisses along the line of your jaw. “Tell me. What do you see?”  

You hum contentedly. “A painting.” You’re not thinking about it at all; your eyes are closed.

“And?”

“A plant. A sofa. Some curtains,” you recall.

“You know what I meant,” he grins against you.

You lean back with a sigh, no longer supporting your own weight, but sinking into him with trust and begrudging compliance. It’s not bad, as surrenders go. He gives you a squeeze of encouragement and your head rolls back, stopping at his shoulder. His breath is skirting over your cheek, just barely.

You open your eyes and really look at the painting.

“It’s beautiful, Raf,” you murmur. It is; it was always going to be. “Everything you do is beautiful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, “I know.” But he wants more. “Does it make you think of something, maybe? Anything?”

There’s no right or specific answer. This isn’t remotely your field of expertise, and you’re oceans apart sometimes, so he has to outstretch a hand. Two viewpoints. Two sides of a coin; you never should have seen each-other.

Your life is hunting monsters, and his is finding beauty in a world where they exist. It’s not what you see, it’s how you see it. Crimson to him is a sunset; to you it’s blood.  

Something in you aches as your eyes roam over his latest work. He won’t tell you what it’s meant to be, not really: that’s a private understanding between him and the canvas, his heart and every stroke of paint. Does it make you think of something? Though the marks are fixed, they’re somehow fluid. The emerald tones are marred by shadows, as though something’s lurking beneath the surface, but there are traces of white, too. Light: shimmering.

“Reflections,” you finally answer. “Scattered to anonymity by a now turbulent lake. They belonged to something else, once, but they’ve taken a new shape— a restless and ever-changing identity— and no-one knows what it is, let alone what it was.”

With a satisfied smile, you close your eyes. That ought to keep him quiet for a minute.

Sure enough, Rafayel is silent. You don’t have to see his crystalline eyes to know they’re set on the painting, soaking it in with a new perspective. His favourite perspective: yours.

You have never been strangers to each-other. Two sides of a coin are still the same coin.

With a light laugh of surprise, he plants a kiss on your shoulder. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of me.” He’s nuzzling into you again. “I know I can be—”

“A pain in the ass?”

He laughs louder. “I was gonna say eccentric.”

“Oh…” You draw air through your teeth. “Yeah. That’s what I meant.”

Your voice is humourless, your face plain. It lasts all of two seconds, and then the charade is falling to pieces; he’s nibbling at your ear, your neck, and it tickles mercilessly. You giggle, but you don’t try to escape. The punishment fits the crime, and who are you to deny him his justice?

You’re quickly running out of breath, so Rafayel ceases his assault, letting you get it back. “Can I look at you now?” you ask.

He clicks his tongue. “I’ll allow it.”

You shift and he lifts you a little— helping you twist around to face him. He smiles fondly as he links his hands behind you, stopping you from falling as you lean back to enjoy the view. It’s the best kind of smile: one that reaches his eyes and makes them sparkle, like the water in the painting, but infinitely more pretty.

You want to feel that smile on your lips, so you lean in and kiss him.

It’s tender and perfect and when you’re done, you snuggle closer, wrapping your arms around him and nestling like you’ll be staying there for a while. You can hear his heart, and though a part of it is in his painting, the rest is with you. Always with you.

“Shouldn’t you get back to your work?” you ask as you think of it, smiling into his shirt. He won’t— not tonight.

“Nah,” he says, running his fingers through your hair. “It can wait.”

[cherryblooom]

2XL — OP81 [ part 1 ]

Summary: You are a young artist who gained a lot of popularity at the ripped age of 14 due to your talent and unusual style. Your body is considered "voluminous" so, in public, you only use 2XL clothing, to protect yourself from people on the internet and feel more comfortable while performing. You have managed to keep your personal life outside the spotlight but when Oscar finally made it to the glamorous lifestyle of motorsports, everything changed.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

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Fic warning: best friends to lovers, kind of slow burn, slut shaming, weird people on the internet, people commenting about a minor's body, sexism, rape comments, rape "jokes", reader battles with her self-esteem, self-image, and self-love, Oscar is obsessed with his girlfriend and her body (not in a creepy way) and is not afraid of showing it, Oscar is not afraid of defending reader and dragging people though the mud.

Faceclaim: Billie Eilish

Note: Oscar is a year older than the reader. SMAU mixed with narrative. Reader doesn't have that much access to social media right now as they are mostly controlled by their management.

You were in shock, appalled, shaking in your boots. No, that wasn't enough to describe the excitement you felt when you saw the success your debut song was having. It had gone viral on the Soundcloud platform, and your followers were increasing rapidly, it honestly felt like a dream.

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ynusername Thank you so much for all the support and love you guys have shown to my debut song and EP. I am still in shock and shaking. I can't wait to see what comes next 🩵

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fanusername you deserve all the love, the songs are beautiful

→ ynusername Thank you so much for the support, it is a dream come true 🩵

oscarpiastri beautiful and talented, you deserve it! ☁︎🩵

ynusername has liked your comment

username this girl is going to be a fucking star

ynusername has liked your comment

username245 ocean eyes makes me cry so much 😭

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oscarpiastri I can't even begin to express how proud I am of you. You are such a talented artist and seeing how you are achieving all of your dreams makes me so excited. And…happy birthday! I don't care how famous you get, i’ll always remember how you almost die because you couldn't stop eating grapes.

Please don't forget me when you are famous, I can't live without your pancakes and you always REFUSE to share the recipe 😔

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ynusername and i’ll NEVER give you my pancakes recipe ☺️🙂‍↔️

→ oscarpiastri boooh, u are just mean and for what😣

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ynusername This pookie just won his first championship in motorsports and I'm still scared to cross the street alone, wtf. Anyways, CONGRATULATIONS!! I don't need to read your horoscope to know that you have a great and bright future ahead of you ❤️@ oscarpiastri

P.S. I understand that winning a championship is a bit of a big deal, but I'm not going to give you my pancake recipe. I don't care how pretty your eyes are 🙄

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fan1 wait, are they a couple?

→ fanuser3 No, as far we know, they have only been best friends since kids

randomuser oscar had an amazing season, I can't wait to see him in f1

fanuser2 Is Yn that tiny or is Oscar a giant? 😭

→ fan1 I know, their height difference is so cute 😔

→ fan3 both answers are correct 😂 but she's 5’1 so I would say that is not that hard to tower over her

Oscarpiastri if you give me the recipe, I will teach you how to cross the street without dying 😃

→ ynusername no❤️

→ oscarpiastri oh COME ON

→ oscarpiastri then, can you come and prepare me some? I pledge not to peek

→ ynusername that I can do

Oscar turned off the screen of his phone when he saw that you had returned from the bathroom, since he had taken advantage of those minutes that you were away from the table to respond to that disgusting comment on Twitter. There were times when he hated social networks, and because he was not a fan and did not find the logic in arguing with a stranger on Twitter, he could not avoid the anger that began to feel when he saw that comment from someone who claimed to be his fan. It wasn't the first time, and unfortunately it wouldn't be the last, that your fashion style was the center of conversation, and not in a good way.

“So, are we done here then? Nobody wants to order anything else?” asked his team leader. All the team members shook their heads and after the bill was paid, everyone started to get into the cars that were already waiting outside to take them to the bar they had reserved for the rest of the night. It wasn’t just that they had won the championship but now Oscar was officially of age, so it was also a reason to celebrate (although he wasn’t old enough to drink alcohol yet, but it seems that detail wasn’t that important to his team).

“Let’s go to McDonald’s for our monthly greasy burger” Oscar told you as you walked out of the restaurant. Your arms were intertwined, and your head was resting on his chest as the two of you slowly made your way to the exit. You couldn’t help but feel a warm flush running through your body. You felt so comfortable and safe.

''Even though I wouldn't want to break our tradition, you should go with your team to celebrate. I'm sure they made you a cake or something like that.'' Since you were both 12 years old, on the last Friday of every month you would go somewhere to eat sweets, junk food or things that you couldn't eat on a daily basis and, for both of you, it was almost a sacred day where you could be yourself, spend time together and just eat, talk or relax.

"Maybe you're right but honestly I'd rather spend time with you."

''I'd love to accompany you but I'm not 18 yet''

''Ohh right, you're still a little girl, I almost forgot. My bad''

''Shut up!'' Oscar just laughed and you let him guide you to his car. ''So, you're not going to the bar?''

''I told you; I prefer to be with you.'' You were both already inside the car and after buckling his seatbelt, Oscar leaned over you to put your seatbelt on for you, but you didn't realize how close you were from each other until he was practically right in front of you. Time felt like it had stopped, or at least it was going slower, since you felt like you had been in that same position for minutes. Oscar for his part couldn't help but run his gaze over your full, kissable and pink lips. For Oscar, you had always been a beauty that didn't need makeup, and if you had put on any, it would only be to make your already natural beauty shine. A few inches were all that separated your lips from his and Oscar smiled cheekily as he watched you hold your breath, maybe waiting, but waiting for what exactly? Oscar pursed his mouth into a satisfied smile.

Oscar finished fastening your seatbelt and sat back down to his seat as if nothing had happened, but he smiled mischievously when he watched you wipe the palms of your hands on your pants and felt you release the breath you were holding.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with that belt, but sometimes it gets stuck. I should check it out later,” Oscar said, and you nodded you head accepting his explanation. It was a lie. The belt was perfect, he just wanted an excuse to do what he did and yes, he didn’t regret anything. He got the answer he was looking for...that he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

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dailyop81 One of the photos that are already coming out of Oscar's team celebrating the championship title, but he doesn't appear in any of them. Could it be that he didn't attend his own party?

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dailyynupdates yn and oscar hanging out today. According to the person who took the photos, the two were seen leaving a food store with a couple of bags (with snacks and what it looked like some junk food). They stopped at the park for a few seconds and then oscar started chasing yn while they both laughed. It should be noted that today is Oscar's celebration party, and he apparently decided to celebrate with yn.

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oscarpiastri such a lovely night with a pretty girl 🩵

tagged @ ynusername

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yn_global23 the height difference between them, I can't-

→ ynhater1 she looks like a fucking midget besides him, how is that cute? lol

→ ynhater1 and btw, the only reason she's famous is because she is with Oscar, if not, she would have flopped so hard 🤣

→ yn_global23 you are aware that yn was already famous before your little vroom vroom guy won any silly tittle, right?

Oscarpiastri liked your comment ❤️

fanuser5 Oh, the way I would give my left kidney to see them together! Like TOGETHER 🙂‍↕️

Oscarpiastri liked your comment

→ ynfan2 ong, me too!! I don't know a lot about Oscar but yn seems so comfortable and happy whenever they are together

→ ynuser2 omggg, Oscar liked your comment 😭

→ fanuser5 WHAT? I can't see it.

→ ynfanuser4 I think he removed the like but, we all saw it. @oscarpiastri explain 🫠

Oscarpiastri liked your comment ❤️

→ ynfanuser4 ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

Radio check: I'm finishing up the next part of Enchanted, but this came to my mind, and I couldn't get it out of my head so here we are. If you'd like me to tag you, let me know. Like and Reblog if you like it!

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 CAUGHT IN BETWEEN kim chaewon & huh yunjin

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🧋★ ͘ ⴰ JEALOUSY & LEADER DUTIES

“you’ve got to be kidding me.” is the first thing that yunjin said when the leader of lesserafim walked into the car sitting right between her and yn with a smile on her face.

“what was that?” chaewon asked while she leaned against yn’s shoulder who was rubbing her eyes with a pink blanket wrapped around her from being woken up about 15 minutes ago.

“oh nothing.” yunjin says before taking a peek at yn who proceeds to put headphones on and turn up the volume of the music on her phone to the point that you can hear it through the headphones before closing her eyes and resting her head on chaewon’s shoulder.

yunjin clears her throat before looking at chaewon, “what are you doing here?” she asks as the car starts.

chaewon smiles, “what do you mean?” she asks innocently, “I’m supposed to be here, I’m the leader it’s my duty to accompany you guys to these things for support.”

yunjin narrows her eyes at chaewon’s obvious bullshit before turning her head and looking at the window, watching the rain fall, this is going to be a long morning.

chaewon eyes widened when she saw yn in the white dress, a smile made its way to her face only to be wiped off immediately when she sees the taller girl walking behind yn in a white dress as well.

she walks over to the two girls with a faux smile on her face, “you look so pretty!” she exclaimed gesturing towards the dresses. “you look like a princess.”

“I look like a ready to be wife.” chaewon's smile faltered, feeling a pang of jealousy that yunjin was the person that got to do something like this with yn.

it should be my wife.

“well, we should get to set.” yunjin says budding in on their moment, she smiles when chaewon gives her a sharp glare.

“oh yeah, let’s go.” yn says, she links her arm with chaewon’s as the girls walk together their manager’s following not too far behind, “I wish you were doing this with us, I love doing photoshoots with you, it reminds be of iz*one.”

chaewon smiles at yn’s words before looking behind to through yunjin a smile who just rolls her eyes and turns to their manager to start a conversation.

“remember when they paired us for everything? I miss that.” yn says smiling sadly at the memories, “now all they do is pair me with yunjin who’s my ready to be wife.” she jokes referring to their outfits.

it’s now chaewon’s turn to roll her eyes she looks behind to see yunjin smiling, ugh.

“honestly I wish the dress was pink, imagine a pink wedding dress?” yn rambles who chaewon who just looks at her with heart eyes as she rants.

“you should wear that to your wedding in the future.” she replies hopefully ours she thinks to herself.

“I’ve honestly never thought about a wedding.” yn says softly, “but the again when do I ever? the farthest I’ve thought is when I get my oscar.”

as they arrived at the set, yn and yunjin were greeted by the bustling activity of the photoshoot. makeup artists and stylists hurried around, putting the finishing touches on the set and the girls' outfits.

chaewon stood off to the side, her gaze shifting between yn and yunjin as they prepared for the photoshoot. she listened absently to the manager discussing their schedules for the next week, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of yn and yunjin.

both yunjin and yn are instructed to lay in the set of the flowers that compliment the dresses, yunjin makes a joke as they lay down which makes everyone laugh well everyone except for chaewon.

“it wasn’t that funny.” she says loud and clear causing everyone to laugh even more, the funny part is that she’s being dead serious.

as fast as the shoot started it ended even faster.

chaewon walked over to yn and yunjin patting both of their shoulders, she patted yunjin’s with more force causing the girl to flinch and rub her now sore shoulder.

“let’s go.” the leader says linking her arms with yn and walking towards the van

chaewon drags yn with her as they make their way into the van, chaewon grabs a blanket that was on the seat and places it over yn’s and her’s legs.

yunjin entered the van not to long after them, “fans are going to go crazy over this shoot.” she starts, pausing to look at yn and chaewon covered in the blanket, before flashing chaewon a smug smile.

“fans go crazy over anything.” chaewon says brushing off yunjin’s comment while looking at yn phone who scrolls through youtube before putting on her headphones probably intentionally tuning out everything around her.

yunjin called yn’s name and didn’t get a response, all she could hear was the blasting video coming from the girls phone, she internally smiled and immediately shot chaewon an accusing look, “okay you can throw away the innocent stuff, why did you come?”

chaewon side eyed yunjin and looked out the window, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“are you serious?” yunjin says, “when have you ever attended a photoshoot for leader duties, this was just another one of your ways to get between yn and I.”

yunjin’s last sentence almost had chaewon jumping over yn to tussle with the girl, “there’s nothing between you and yn to get in between.”

yunjin opens her mouth to respond but is cut short by chaewon’s rage, “are really stupid enough to think that you and yn have something? I’m embarrassed for you.”

yunjin tenses at the girls tone but doesn’t back down, “well we have to have something for a creative director to request for a shoot for wedding style dresses.” she responds back quickly only to flinch at chaewon’s laugh.

“do you really wanna play this game right now?” chaewon asks seriously, yunjin furrows her eyebrows because this is the most serious she’s seen the leader, “you may like yn, but your like for her will never amount to mine, you’ve had your fun but it’s time to back off.”

there’s silence for a second the only thing filling the van is the music from the radio and the sounds from the headphones, yunjin swallows thickly, “I will not back off, I’m not like all the other people you’ve scared away.”

this another few seconds of silence.

“okay.”

there was a chilling vibe to the leader’s words. yunjin should feel relieved at chaewon’s calm response to her own , so why does she feel nervous?

[dejwrld]

summary — in which the neighbor becomes a bystander in an explicit window show by infamous artist geto suguru.

warning readers discretion is advised ⸻ female reader, female anatomy described, exhibitionism, oral (suguru receiving), masturbation (f.solo), drug usage/drug consumption (weed), voyeurism, artist!geto suguru, if you squint a lil bit–you may see hints of dom!suguru, takes place in the same verse of my rockstar!choso fic, minors do not interact

sticky note from deja — one of my babies that i hold close to my heart. a repost from my old blog—only the girlies who followed my blog 2 years ago remember this gem. completely ahead of its time.

The large window was something you had to get used to. You thought about putting curtains up, but you adored how the natural sunlight gleamed into your newest condo. Or the fact that you had a perfect view of the apartment across from you. You weren’t even aware that someone lived in the apartment until you were near the window and saw a male figure carrying art supplies. Your curious eyes squint to get a better look at the person, but you just couldn’t see that far.

As you ate dinner alone, you would find yourself peeping at the man across from you. He always seemed to be cooped up in his artwork. Rubbing his hands that were covered with paint onto his sweatpants or ripping a piece of paper out from his sketchbook. You found yourself wanting to get a closer look, intrigued to get a closer look at the mysterious man. So you brought a pair of binoculars. Cheeks burning in embarrassment as you realize you were a peeping Tom. How desperate could you be to invade a man’s privacy like this?

One evening when you were twisting and turning in your bed, you gave up trying to sleep. Your feet dragged across the wooden floors towards your kitchen to make your favorite tea that usually helped you fall asleep. As you walked by the huge window where the moon illuminated inside your place, your eyes nearly popped out of your head seeing the view. Your hands frantically picked up the binoculars as you looked directly towards the artist’s apartment. There he was sitting in one of his living room chairs, a rolled blunt in between his lips as another woman was in between his legs. Your heart pounded in your chest watching his fingers comb through his long jet black hair as the woman’s head bobbed up and down on his cock.

You kept mumbling to yourself that this felt so wrong. But your eyes couldn’t pry away from the sight. The way he inhaled and exhaled while a smoke cloud swirled above him as he held the rolled substance in his hand. His other hand was placed on the back of the woman’s head moving with her movements. He was enjoying the wonderful feeling of being on cloud nine due to the weed he was consuming and then being brought back down from his high due to a woman’s lips wrapped around his cock. You felt the growing heat in between your thighs as you put the binoculars down, your hands growing sweaty at the thought of what you just witnessed. You wanted to close your eyes and hopefully, when you opened, you were just hallucinating…dreaming maybe. High off the same thing, the artist was smoking. When you brought the binoculars back to your eyes, your heart seemed to drop in your chest. There he was, the artist giving you a sly wave. If you squint hard enough, you would even admit that he was giving you some cocky smirk.

He knew you were watching.

You watched through the binoculars as he gently nudged the woman off him. The woman’s face was covered with her own saliva as he gripped at her hair dragging her closer to the huge window just so you can get a better look. Your heart seemed to beat faster as you tugged one of your dining room chairs closer to the window, your thighs clamped shut to ignore the ache from your pussy that was begging for attention. As your eyes peeped through the binoculars once more, the woman continued to suck the artist off. His rolled blunt was in between his lips as he would toy with the woman’s brunette hair, eventually putting it in a ponytail to stop her saliva from colliding with her hair.

“Shit.” You muttered to yourself, the little things like that turned you on. You couldn’t help but play with the band of your pajama shorts. You were aware that if he knew you were watching, he could most likely see you.

You would put the binoculars down for a second as you tugged your shorts down. You stepped out of them letting them decorate your wooden floors as you sat back down in the chair you pulled up. Your eyes once again peeked through the binoculars once you picked them back up. The artist’s large hand was placed on the window keeping his balance from the sensational pleasure he was receiving.

Your eyes peered at the man as his head fell back in complete bliss. Seeing the way his hips thrust into the woman’s mouth caused your fingers to climb into your panties. Your fingers rubbed at your folds, shocked at the fact that just by being a peeping Tom, you’ve grown wet. Brain rotting with the thoughts of the artist in the other building as you massaged your own cunt, your other hand gripping at the binoculars to get a perfect view of the artist.

Your lips parted slightly to let out a soft whimper as your fingers made a circular motion on your clit that was begging to be touched. The sight of the artist getting a blowjob from another woman caused you to be soaked below if only you were the one whose lips were wrapped around his cock. The thought of it caused you to push two of your fingers inside to feel around your damp walls. Your fingers stroked eagerly to hit that one spot that caused your toes to curl up in pure bliss. Binoculars glued to your eyes as you watch the artist stare in your direction. A smirk on his face as he would quickly put the blunt he was smoking out. You watched as his muscles flex at each movement the brunette made on his dick. Your teeth grind against your lower lip as you remove your fingers from yourself. Your own wetness glistened your fingers that now were rubbing at your clit.

You watched as the artist’s hips thrust forward. The brunette on the floor grasped at the rug under her knees, trying to hold her balance due to the sudden aggression from the man in front of her. Saliva dripped on the floor and on the brunette’s lap as tears trickled down her cheeks. The actions you were viewing caused you to rub even faster; you could feel the heat pooling in the pit of your abdomen. You watched as the artist’s head fell back as the brunette-haired woman used her hands to massage his shaft. Mimicking his motions as your head also fell back and once again insert your fingers to push around your wet walls. Your imagination lets you wonder and wish that the artist’s fingers were inside you, edging you on bit by bit. A moan hitched from the back of your throat as your vision was getting blurry. The last sight through the binoculars you caught a glimpse of before you were pushed into your orgasm was the artist removing himself from the woman’s mouth. A mixture of his cum and the brunette’s saliva dripped off the artist’s cock.

The binoculars clattered to the ground once you felt your walls clutch around your fingers. Your chest rose up and down as you seemed to slump in the wooden chair you were sitting in. Sitting in your own pool of wetness, you could see that the artists had also finished up. The girl who was blowing him off was walking out of the living room to clean herself up, her face a sloppy mess as she licked her lips of any cum that spilled out her mouth. You quickly grabbed the binoculars, your cheeks steamed with embarrassment as you couldn’t even believe the action you’d just done. You see him staring right back at you when you peek through them to end your night. He had a grin on his face as he gave you a wave right before he turned his living room light off, most likely to go join the woman he just face-fucked.

You placed the binoculars down and started to clean the mess you made. Your mind is still racing due to the actions you just committed. It was such a new thing, and your friends wouldn’t even believe you if you told them what you did. You pushed the chair back into the dining space of your condo and eventually went to shower. Praying that the shower's steam would push out the thoughts of the artist living rent-free in your mind.

The following morning, you seemed to have dozed off on your living room couch last night. A fluffy blanket tugged on your body, and your television was on. As you sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you seemed to begin remembering the following night's events. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest as you jolted up, going towards the window. You couldn’t see the artist walking around his apartment, nor did you see the brunette woman that was wrapped around his cock. But you did see something. You grabbed your binoculars, peeping through them for one last time, and your lips parted to let out a scandalous gasp.

There stood in the living room, close to the large window that the artist once was using as support last night, a painting. A painting so explicit that it caused you to place your hand on your chest in disbelief. The painting was a painting of you last night. On the canvas was an explicit painting of you masturbating at the view of him. You couldn’t help but notice the details he put into his work, especially considering that you live in an apartment building across from his. He had to have such a vivid imagination to create such a piece.

And in the corner, you saw his signature in black paint.

Geto Suguru.

The artist’s name was Geto Suguru.

[elenthyaolyenths]

Ok, it's time, isn't it? My first "Art Versus Artist"! and always, my complete Good Omens Art Gallery if you are curious!

Hello my dears! Your little Frenchie wing-addict here! 2024 has been a hell of a ride, so many great things happened since I decided to join the Good Omens fandom ! What a ride, yeah, from my first Red Art sketches in January to my most recent full-colour tries and experimentations - most of them still secret, sorrryyyyy. My wrist surgery and the physiotherapy still going on, depression and health problems hitting hard again... BUT I KNOW I wouldn't be here without the fandom and without your wonderful support.

The constant research of my own art style, while i was granted the chance to work with amazing writers and artists. The pleasure to share my improvements with you all, dear followers and friends!!!

Thank you so much, for everything. Wishing you the best for 2025, I hope I'll be able to make you smile and dream even more!

Linktree - Masterpost - Ko-Fi - Prints of my Art here!

And, here, I'll have to stop a minute and try to remember ALL of you dear people I'd like to thank even more personally... with all my love and my gratefulness. (!long text under the cut!)

@vavoom-sorted-art dear M'am, I have already told you how one of your Tumblr posts litteraly saved me in the beginning of 2024 and gave me back the courage to continue to make art. It was probably a very small thing for you, but for me it has been a life-changing thing for the best. Thank you again, thank you so much for your kindness, and your advice about my art during this year. I wish you the best for 2025, for your studies and everything else <3

@malohkeh-main My dear, you're the first one who encouraged me to do this personal Red Art Daily Challenge in January. Thanks for your wonderful support and our translation teamwork, life happened between us but I'll never forget our discussions.

@floscrap-blog, my dear frenchie friend I have met on international GOAD sub, while we were living almost right next door, how was it even possible?? Dear Hun, thank you so much for your kindness, I'll treasure our friendship forever.

@kotias, the one and only! I can't even say how much I'm grateful for you finding me and dragging me into the wonderful behind-the-scenes of this awesome fandom. Because of you (and it's a compliment) I was suddenly drawing even more, writing again after a 3-years-blank-page-syndrom, meeting so many new people and collegues and friends. My life has definitely changed the day we started to talk, and I discovered what the tag "found family" might mean. Thank you so, SO MUCH, Madame.

Thanks to @goodomensafterdark for creating the best goblin nest ever. Your whole community supporting me when I was about to get my wrist surgery and when I was scared as hell? Probably my best wonderful memory ever of this summer. Still crying about it. Thank you so much, for everything.

@demonsandpieohmy, dearest, I still remember this comment on my art on GOAD, mentioning your fingers tingling... and then, "To Shreds" was born, and it was just the first of our several collabs together. Thank you so much for your trust and your support on my very first NSFW artworks! Thank you for your friendship, we might have talked less these last months but it's always a pleasure. Wishing you the best for your ulterior writings!

Thanks to @the-bentley and @cassiecasyl for choosing me on the Reverse Bang Minisode and for our wonderful teamwork!! I have been uncredibly lucky to have you both.

Greatings and many thanks to the people who supported me on Ko-Fi and/or commisionned me this year. It's been an honor and a true pleasure. <3

Hugs, love, and big thanks to my dear friends and fellows artists/writers: @daneecastle (your kindness and your advice still help me everyday, dear), @gribouli (tellement heureuse d'avoir pu te rencontrer, merciiiii pour tout!), @nosferatini (Thank Mama Nos for everything, can't wait for 2025 ;-D), @sweetmascherari (the "BIG" project was so much funnier by your side!<3), @eybefioro (my dear I'm so happy to finally be able to work with you!)... and I probably forgot people and I hate it but be sure I'm so so grateful T.T

Thanks even more to all my lovely friends from the TNAN discord - and specifically to @itsscottiesstark, my dear friend and co-moderator. I love what we have created there and even if this BIG BABY of a network is sometime a little bit overwhelming now, it's always a pleasure to co-event with you and having fun during your Story-Times.

And, last but not least, thanks to my dear internet Spouse, @captainblou. Writing and arting by your side has been one of the most wonderful things I was able to do this year. Thank you for that, and for everything else, each day, every day.

Happy NYE everyone! See you in 2025!

Tag-list (ask in comment to be add if you want to be notified next time I publish my Good Omens arts and WIPs! A lot of secret work is almost done and is coming!!!)

@goodomensafterdark ;

@floscrap-blog ; @demonsandpieohmy ; @amagnificentobsession ; @captainblou ; @mamamissy

@ineffable-hyperfixation ; @itsscottiesstark ; @moralsofanalleycatsposts ; @featheredboaconstrictor ; @lenareadly

@fearandhatred ; @eybefioro ; @crowleys-bentley-and-plants ; @ashfae ; @crowleys-hips;

@paperclipninja ; @silverdphantom ; @neverlet ; @naturallyteal ; @goodoldfashionedlovergirls-blog ;

@madaims; @daisydimple20092 ; @seraphhiim ; @rebeccakatmauri ; @cobragardens

[regularme12]

Put on your comedy mask!

A/N: I garuntee you, everyone in the tk community thought this was finna be a tickle scene. So I'm making it into a fic!!!

Lee: Jax

Ler: Gangle(?)

Summary: Gangle don't like slackers, or debby downers. Lucky for her, she knows just the way to turn that frown upside down!

"Hi!! Welcome to Spudsy's!! In this video, you're gonna learn the ins and outs on what makes YOU a good crew worker! AND a valuable asset to the Supdsy's corporation." Gangle explained on the tv screen. Jax felt like he acctually messed up for the first time. If it wasn't for Gangle's stupid happy face, he wouldn't have been complaining about the work enviroment, she sent them out to do!!

"When did you make this?"

"Now I know what you're thinking," Gangle mocked, "I don't want a career in fast food. I wanna be a comic artist and eventually launch my own manga inspired webcomic. And it's cool to have dreams, but you also need to remember that they're all completely unrealistic, and YOU need to stop trying."

Jax was baffled that Gangle had the courage to do all of this shit!! Like yh, cut his pay, or send him home for the day, but this?! This was too much just for her, Jax dosen't know how or when he's getting out. He felt a little anxious and claustrophobic.

"But BEFORE we get into all that...first things first, are you smiling?"

Smiling? Is she insane?! Why would he be smiling when he was practically forced aganst his will to be there?! "Eh, no???"

"Why not?" Gangle looked scarry to the bunny man, how he got himself in this position, he has yet to find out. Then all of a sudden a chair pops out along with robotic hands. They forced him to sit down, and had his limbs stretched out to the bone.

"Wait-Waitwaitwait, uhm... No one can see this right?! hehe" The arms brougjt him closer to the tv where his face was squished upon it, then they brought him back to his prior position, llimbs stretched out, sitting in a chair.

"It's time for your employee evaluation.~" And like that, Gangle was out of sight, out of mind.

"WAIT! NO GANGLE!! I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU LEAVE ME HERE-" He stopped mid sentence, realizing there was no point in trying to call out for something that wasn't even there. "Great..." Gangle put on her employee evaluation video expecting Jax to follow along. He wanted to slouch back because if he's watching something stupidly boring, he'll want to get comfortable first, but it was hard with those damn hands not letting go, he couldn't even move a muscle if he wanted to, that's just how tight they made him. "Now I gotta watch this stupid s***! Hey, bud, you think you can lay off a little? This'll be so annoying if I can't get comfortable, and right now, I can't even move. It's p****** me off." All of the sudden, he felt a poke to his side. This caused him to jump, and let out a small giggle. Oh no... was this Gangle's plan all along?! To get me here so she can leave her murder weapons to tickle me to death?! This is SO not good.

"On my m************ SOUL, you'll be so f****** sorry if u let this peice of s*** tickle me the whole time you're so called 'lesson' is STILL F****** GOING!!! AGH THIS PEICE OF S*** SENSORING BULL S***! CANE I'MMA F****** KILL YOU! TRUST AND BELIEVE- AHHHH!!" Jax screamed so loud, that if that box he was confined in wasn't super fucking sound proof, from here to Thailand, everyone would hear his god awful screams for help, but help has yet to arrive.

"Gahhahahaa!! Pehehehehice of s***, let. me. GOHHOOHOHOHOH!!!" They started squeezing his sides at a fast pace. Jax has always been super ticklish, I mean for the years he can remember. But yet the only person who knows that is Caine and Bubble. Hence, how he even remembers how ticklish he really is.

"D******* ihihihit, Gahahahangle, when I gehehet out of here!!!" They were lightly dragging their finger up and down said bunny man's torso. Which was a little ticklish that made him lightly jerk, but wasn't too extravangant to where he was full on laughing. "Ugh... stop!! C-Can you guys... like speak e-english? Or at least ANY languAGE! NO NOT THEHEHEREEEE" The spot they went to just had to be his second most ticklish spot, his toe beans. They're so sensitive, to the point he can't do anything if it involves someone or something touching his feet. "GahahahahHAHAHHAAhahaha!! THIHIHIS IS TOHOHORTURE OHOHO MY GOHOHOJOD!" Jax was really in a pickle. How is he gonna get out of this?! What felt like 30 minutes had passed, and Jax was still in that same hold with those same hands tickling the same spots. One of them started scratching in the divots of his ribs with there really dull finger tips, which to Jax, is the reason why it tickled so much.

All that was heard was the clanking noises of the robotic arms when Jax was trying to pull his arms down to defend the now attacked spot, before he literally passes out, but to no avail. The room went silent. The tv was still going in the background, he thought to himself that someone was bound to at least notice his disappearnace and comes checks up on him. Then he remembered no one likes him there, I mean... maybe expect for Kinger and Pomni??

But Gangle can't let him stay there forever, right?! He was getting to his limits, his ribs weren't even THAT ticklish, it was just the way the hands were moving in those hollow spots that really got him going. "F******* FINE!! PLEHEHEHEASE!! LEHEHEHT ME GOHOHO!! IHIHI'M SIHIHICK OF THIHIHIS S*****!!" The hands finally let go, giving him a chance to breathe and calm down. His rapid heart rate and the sound of Gangle's stupid annoying voice he oh so hates, was the only ones audible to the naked ears.

Then they started moving, but not to let him go, oh no. It wasn't that easy. They moved to his ears. His worst spot. They swiped up it once, and Jax almost broke Gangle's dumb machine. "OH F****** PLEASE DON'T TICKLE ME THERE PLEASE I BEG YOU!! JUST MAKE IT ST-...." It went silent once again, then Jax started laughing.

"IHIHIHI CAN'T...." Again.

"F************ BREATHE!!...." And again. Then it turned to hiccups, and snorts

"*SNORT* PLEHEHEHEHASE GAHAHAHN... *Hic* *snort* IHIHIHI HAHAHHAD EHEHEHEEH....*Silent* *long inhale* *snort* *HIC*...." And then it went silent again. The hands finally let up, and Jax could faintly make out Gangle's outro for her employee evaluation video. The hands and chairs extracted, making Jax fall on his ass. Then he just lied there for a good 5 minutes. Then he fumbled to stand up, and stumbled his way out the door that appeared after the hands and chairs were gone. He looked like a hot mess, he was sweaty, his fur was sticking to his forehead, he looked exhausted, and he was all red. How is he gonna make up excuses when it's practically written on his face?!

"Wow Jax! Didn't think you'd survive that!! So??? Did you learn anything today???" Gangle appraoched him in her same old giddy attitude from before.

"I f****** hate you." Jax groaned.

"Why?"

"because... you're stupid f****** MACHINES JUST T-" He stopped hismelf, he didn't want everyone around him knowing he was insanly ticklish, or ticklish at all. So he dropped hjs voice to a whsiper, "You're machines just f****** tickled me, jacka**"

"Wanna go back?" She turned serious, but still had that shit eating grin plastered on her mask.

"NO! F*** NO!! You can't pay me 100 GS to go back there." He was relishing back at that moment where he was tickled to near death, and he shivered.

"Hehe, I knew you were insanley ticklish. So I hoped I'd tickled you into consideration about being a better coworker!!"

"Wha-?! How?! Did yo-?! Ugh... Bubble?"

"Yep!"

"Caine?"

"Mhm"

"God, I'm gonna f****** kill them both!!"

"Heheh... yeah."

"Well, anyways. F*** you Gangle, f*** this work place, f*** this enviroment, I could give zero s**** about how you wanna run and invest in this dump, but that's all you. I'm clocking out, I had enough today, and I'm gonna rest in my f****** car, with my f****** radio blaring in the parking lot, waiting for that a**hat of a boss to let us go back home, so I can beat the ever loving s*** out of him and his alliby. Oh, and not a word about this to anyone, if you want me to be a little better, follow those rules, and trust me." Then he walked out.

Ragatha looked up, all droopy and drunk, "Where's he goingggg? Ifff he can leaveeee then I for sureee ca-" She fell back on the floor with a thud. Gangle looked down, gave her a soft smile, and went along with the rest of her day.

[luizd3ad]

Trapped by Him | Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Yandere, tattoo artist Sirius Black x Fem! Muggle Reader WC: 952 CW: Stalking, Swearing, Kidnapping, no use of Y/N, use of Avada Kedavra, this is just dark lowkey Author's Note: I'm gonna be so honest with you guys I've been sitting on this fic for months and it's just been sitting in the drafts... sorry also I’ve never written a Yandere fic before but I read a lot of dark romance sooo hopefully its good. I'm also thinking about making this multiple parts series but idk so lmk if you guys want more. Summary: Siris thinks he’s protecting you, you are his after all... even if you don’t know it.

kinda hate this mood board tbh

·☆· ────── · ❀ · ────── ·☆·

How could he not watch her?

She was his flower. So soft, so pretty and so fucking defenseless. 

She was only a muggle after all, she didn't have magic to keep herself safe, who knows what could happen to her?! He just wanted to protect her!

No, he needed to protect her.

So he watched her, followed her. 

Made sure she would get to work just fine, made sure she made it home. He would watch her from across the room when she would go out to have dinner with her friends. 

He would watch and make sure no man went up to her, she was his after all, whether she knew it or not.

He just had to guarantee her safety. That was all he wanted to do, he wanted to make sure she was safe at all times. 

Well… he also wanted to do other things but those wants those needs weren’t important… for now.

He still remembers the moment she walked into his shop just a few months ago. 

Her friend had dragged her in and convinced her to get her first tattoo.

A little flower on her shoulder. 

While Sirius was tattooing her, she would wince and whimper every so often. That's when Sirius knew. Hearing her cry in pain just broke something in him.

He needed to protect his flower at all costs.

☆¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸☆

You were walking to a pub where you and some of the girls from work were meeting up at. Honestly you didn't want to go, but your cousin had been telling you that you needed to get out of your comfort zone more.

So when one of your coworkers had invited you out you figured that was the best way to get out of your comfort zone since you had only ever said no up to this point.

You walked into the pub and spotted your coworkers right away.

After about 30 minutes of chatting you decided you needed something to drink. Tonight just felt like it was going on for, forever. 

You walked up to the bar waiting to get the bartender's attention.

“You're going to be waiting a while, love. This guy has no idea what he's doing.”

Looking at the seat next to you, you see a tall man with short black hair and big brown eyes.

“Yeah, I've kinda figured that out already.” 

Letting out a little chuckle, the man holds out his hand for you to shake introducing himself. “Spencer.” 

You shake his hand introducing yourself.

You and Spencer spend the better part of the night talking and getting to know each other. It was actually quite nice. You two had so much in common, he was nice enough and he was pretty cute. 

Your coworker had all left at some point waving as they left not wanting to interrupt your time with Spencer. 

You looked down at your watch and noticed it was almost midnight.

“Damn, it's getting late, I should be going now.” You stand up and grab your things. Spencer stood up as well smiling at you. “It's too dangerous to walk by yourself. Do you mind if I join you?”

“I'd like that a lot actually.” you smiled up him with a small nod and then you and Spencer started the short walk to your flat talking the whole way there. 

You were both so caught up in each other that you didn't notice the shadow that followed you.

☆¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸☆

Sirius couldn't believe his eyes. 

His precious flower was walking into her flat with a stranger.  A man she had just met!

How could she be so stupid?

His poor stupid precious little flower.

This is why he had to watch her! 

He knew at that moment that he couldn't wait any longer.

He wanted to take his time getting to know her more, he wanted to learn about her more. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect before he brought her home but this just proved that he needed to act fast and now. 

Sirius watched as the light in her living room turned on. He could guess by the shadows that one of them, he was guessing you, was in the kitchen while the other person, that man, was in the living room. 

He knew your apartment like the back of his hand. He knew how to open every door without making a sound, and knew where ever loose floorboard was. 

He could walk in your flat in pure darkness without making a sound. He only knows because he's done it more times then he can count over the last few months. 

Sirius made his way to your flat casting ‘Alohomora’ to open the door silently. When he makes it into the living room all he can see is that man's hand on your face, stroking your cheek. 

You were allowing him to do so.

With a fucking smile on your face!

Sirius saw red. 

Before he can even process what he's doing, a flash of bright green light is shot at the man next to you.

The green light seemed to consume everything in the room blinding you then as the light fades and you look next to you, there Spencer is. He doesn't look like he's breathing, he's slumped on the couch, eyes wide open, no movement. 

He looked lifeless.

Before you had the chance to figure out what exactly was going on before you could even freak out all you were was ‘Stupefy’ and then everything went black.

·☆· ────── · ❀ · ────── ·☆·

[allthelovenina]

Random headcanons of Levi Ackerman x reader

Warnings: none, afab reader

-How you two got closer?

When Farlan and Isabel passed away, he stood by their graves for a very long time in the rain. However, he wasn't alone there all the time but rather had someone by his side after a while. A soldier whose name he didn't clearly remember. He had met this person and had seen them a few times during the training and in the mess hall but never had a real interaction with her, however, he had already noticed her because she was just so clean. Her boots were always polished, and her clothes never had a stain on them, her hair was clean, and on top of all of that, she was the only one who dedicated time and energy to cleaning the place voluntarily. She put the flowers on their graves and stood in silence next to Levi as the raindrops were falling on her hair and her clothes were getting drenched.

She stood next to him in silence until he decided he had to go. He faced her. "You didn't have to." It was his way of thanking her, she assumed. "I want to give my comrades a proper goodbye. Plus, I...didn't want to leave you alone." She continued."Don't get it the wrong way, I know what it's like to...lose your loved ones. I assume you only had them, but...just so you know, you're not left alone in this world." Levi remained silent. In truth, he did appreciate her kindness. However, he was deep in thought about how scared he was from being left alone. He didn't mind being alone, but being left alone was a whole different story, and now it felt like she was bringing him out of that pit of agony. However, he was too overwhelmed to process anything. The next thing he knew was that he landed himself a few "friends" and perhaps a family, his squad and comrades.

How did he find out he had feelings for you?

As the days turned into weeks and weeks were poured into months, he found her presence warming. Despite the December leaves falling and the chill creeping into every corner of the HQ, he felt a little flare, warming up his heart every time he saw her smile. However, these feelings were so strange to him that he never acknowledged them.

It was December, the new year was just around the corner and the training was cancelled though to the harsh weather. Levi found it ridiculous. 'Soldiers must know how to survive in such weather.' Though the temperature was nothing new to him, since the underground was either too hot or too cold, the snow covering the field was something he had never seen. He sipped the hot tea as he watched the snow covered land.

"Levi!" It was her. He turned to the voice, somehow curious. "What is it?" She smiled, same flare warmed his chest up. "I wanna show you something. Come on now!" She grabbed his arm. "Hey! Let me finish my tea first." It was too late, he was already dragged to another room.

"Happy birthday!" Everyone screamed as she opened the door. "Happy birthday, Levi!" He stood there speechless for a moment or two, overwhelmed with everything he was processing, before he knew it a cake was brought close to his face with candles on it. "Make a wish!" Hange said loudly. He looked at you and he wished he hadn't. Cause that damn flare was now a burning fire in his chest. Did she always look like a painting by a famous artist, hanging on the walls of a museum in Wall Sina?

Damn it. This was not normal.

"Come on, Levi! Close your eyes and make a wish. Blow the candle once you made your wish." She instructed him and he followed. Once he blew his candle Hange asked him "What did you wish for?" His expression remained stoic "For this place to be clean one day." He lied, but it was believable enough. What he actually wished was for her to be happy and healthy all the time. He had one wish and spent it on her. "By the way..." he said "Thank you all. You didn't have to."

-How does he show his affection?

He doesn't. Or at least he desperately tries not to. But he can't have his new expensive tea which he bought from Trost District without her. She just has to try it. It gets on his nerves, but the tea doesn't feel right when he isn't having it with her.

His gaze softens when he speaks to her. His expression is less intense and if you listen really closely you can hear the small, tiny hint of joy and softness, the kind of tone which you hear when someone is talking to a baby. Of course, it's not obvious to anyone, even himself.

In the early days of confronting his feelings, he tried to distance himself from her. Perhaps it was a matter of attachment. If he escaped from her, maybe her presence wouldn't haunt him. Despite being successful at avoiding her physically, he could never escape from her. She lived in his mind rent-free.

One night, he tossed his legs as he tried to get some sleep, tonight, like the nights before, she was in his thoughts. He decided to get some fresh air. As he left the room, he saw her in the common kitchen, and he gasped. Not too loudly. She smirked "Did I scare you?" He frowned "No. What the hell are you doing at this hour in the kitchen?" She pouted, and his heart melted once again. "I couldn't sleep, duh."

He glanced for a moment and sighed. "Want some tea?" She smiled. "Yes please." As he started preparing the tea, she started speaking hesitantly. "Uhm...I wanna talk to you." He faces her with confusion. "Are you mad at me? Did I do anythig wrong?" Levi swore he heard her voice trembling "I mean...you've been really avoiding. I...just wanna apologize."

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

He never meant to upset her, but there she was pouting and just so soft for him. His heart dropped, it came to him at that moment how selfish he had been. Never ever was he going to avoid her or do anything to make her look like this. Of course, she wasn't crying or anything but there was just something broken in her voice, a hint of sadness. Levi would've rather have his head rubbed in mod than seeing her like this.

"No, you did nothing wrong...I was just...didn't want to talk to anyone that's all, nothing personal." He grabbed the cups and poured some tea into them. "Here." He put the cup on the table.

Suffer, instead of seeing her suffer, cause that would be less painful.

[mugloversonly]

When I Grow Up

This is for the Steddie Holiday Drabble Popup Event. @steddieholidaydrabbles

Rating: G; WC:726

Steve double checked his pockets while he waited for Eddie and Amelia. It was a big day for the new family. Amelia was graduating kindergarten and she needed to be spectacular. She wanted them all to wear matching outfits, and she wanted to wear her hair the same way her papa did. So, naturally Eddie was a blubbering mess all week.

His disposable cameras were secured and he called up to the two divas. “Time to go or we’ll be late!”

“Coming!” Eddie yelled back wetly. Steve grabbed an extra pack of travel tissues and shoved them in his pocket. He loved his cry baby husband. Speak of the devil, he glanced over his shoulder to watch him come down the steps, and had to suppress a giggle. Eddie was carrying Amelia down with him and both of them were wearing the same thing as Steve: a black button down with dark gray jeans and a pink bow tie. She’d developed a love of dark colors recently, but she still loved her pink. But what got Steve the most, was the hair.

The two of them were sporting matching double dutch braids with plastic roses weaved in. There was an absurd amount of glitter in both their hair and a crazy amount of hair clips. It was obvious that they worked as a team, with Eddie doing the braids and Amelia the accessories. “Dad! You need glitter too!” Amelia shouted. He sighed and knelt down for her to sprinkle his hair with the glitter. “Now we all match!” She jumped out of Eddie’s arms and ran through the garage door and into the car. Steve and Eddie shared a kiss before they followed her.

~~~

They were sitting with the other parents of the kindergartners as they sang their end of year song. They even did a bit of sign language to go along with it. Next was the section where all the kids said what they wanted to be when they grew up.

There were Astronauts, fire fighters, singers, and one very ambitious kid who wanted to be a mermaid scientist. Whether that was studying mermaids or inventing them, Eddie couldn’t tell. But finally it was Amelia’s turn. Eddie took a deep breath, trying his best to stay dry eyed. Steve already handed him a bundle of tissues but he was determined not to use them. That all went out the window the second his little girl spoke.

“Amelia Munson, what do you want to be when you grow up?” Her teacher asked. She smiled and looked at her dads.

“I want to grow up to be a tattoo artist like my papa.” She said. Eddie’s hands flew to his mouth as he gasped. He looked at Steve out of the corner of his eye and saw him pulling out some more tissues before handing them over without a word. He grabbed them gratefully and dabbed at his eyes.

Steve smiled fondly and wrapped his arm around Eddie as he blubbered. The parents around them awed and a few of their parent friends glanced at the pair. Funnily enough, even though Eddie looked like a scary dog, all the parents knew he was a big cry baby when it came to Amelia.

Thinking back to her first day, Eddie remembered how he had cried harder than any of the moms that were there with their kids as the class made their way inside. Steve had to practically drag him away and he made him park across the street for over an hour until they left, “just in case she gets too sad and wants to come home, Steve.” Eddie explained.

If Amelia was sick, he was the one to come pick her up. Not because Steve didn’t care, but it was a lot easier for Eddie to drop everything since he owned the studio he tattooed in. A high school guidance counselor couldn’t exactly drop everything at a moment’s notice.

He knew they had a special bond, the two had a similar background and early childhood. But he never expected their bond to be so special she’d want to grow up to be just like him. The thought filled his heart to bursting.

He looked at Steve and whispered “we really need to get her a cat.” Steve rolled his eyes fondly.

“The puppy wasn’t enough?”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56184907

[hollycrowned]

cipherhunt log: some sunny day

It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?

On July 27th, I went to the Hillsboro Barnes & Noble signing event for The Book of Bill. I’ve decided to come back to this account at least for a moment to write a little bit about what it was like. At the end of this post, there’s some Cipher Hunt related news, so be sure to read all the way through.

The Q&A was a lot of fun. There was excitement in the air even before the event began, with eager fans wearing Dipper hats and flannel shirts hurrying to their seats. A few fans were in cosplay, too, which was heartwarming to see. While there were several kids with their parents in the audience, most of the fans there were younger adults—which really made it hit me that the series first aired over ten years ago.

By total accident I ended up next to the door Alex stepped through and caught his entrance:

Alex has the type of charm that can get anyone laughing, and his own laughter is contagious. I didn’t record much of the talk, wanting to simply experience it, but here’s a short video I took of him talking about how The Book of Bill came about:

Over the half hour, Alex talked about the the book itself, about the show, his characters, and about creating a television series. Fans, when the mic was turned over to the audience, said what they love most about the series and asked about intentionality and the possibility of crossovers (Alex’s immediate “yes” was a hit). Alex expressed after one question that while he never could have guessed that people would like Gravity Falls so much, he’s grateful for the enduring love fans have for the show.

The event coordinator, who schooled a few questions to Alex before mic was given over to the audience, asked what I think we all want to know: “What are you working on right now?” Alex gave the answer he’s given in the past: that as is typical in Hollywood, he can’t talk about the projects he’s currently involved in.

If you were around when I was active here, you might remember that by the time I left, my focus had become to follow Alex through his career. To recap: after Gravity Falls ended, Deadline reported in 2018 that Alex had signed a multi-year exclusive contract with Netflix. Not long after, Netflix announced the opening of its own animation studio, alongside a reel showcasing some of the artists they’d recruited. The reel highlighted that this group of artists included industry legends, young talent, and diverse voices; each artist in the reel talked how excited they were for what the studio itself meant the future of animation, and for the opportunity to work there. Alex was in this reel, too.

Although I’ve moved on to other fandoms and my own creative work, I’ve kept up with movements in the animation industry. If you have, too, you may know about the massive cuts and cancellations Netflix has made in the last several years, especially to its animation department. Alex has produced and consulted on a few projects at Netflix since his contract began—chief among them Inside Job, which was initially renewed by for a second season before Netflix reversed their decision six months later and cancelled the series altogether. Shion Takeuchi, the creator of Inside Job and previous writer on Gravity Falls, confirmed the cancellation, saying “I’m heartbroken.” Alex, in a reply, expressed the same, adding, “Grateful to have had the chance to help on one of my best friends shows, for however briefly”.

In the six years since Alex signed his contract with Netflix, there have been hints that he’s been working on a series with his name on the masthead. In late 2020, he tweeted about staffing his new show:

But if his project was among the cuts Netflix made a few years after that, he gave no sign of it in his answer.

It’s jarring, and saddening, to watch that reel from 2018 with the knowledge of what has happened since. Outside of Netflix, things seem just as dire, with the dragging of AI into animation giants like Disney and Dreamworks by their corporate executives—notably, as The Animation Guilds’ contract approached its expiration date. In 2023, Vulture published an article which included testimonies from four artists who worked on Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse about the unsustainable working conditions at Sony while the film was in production. Over the last few years, Warner Bros has shelved two animated films and one hybrid for multimillion-dollar tax write-offs. In addition, their subsidiary HBO Max purged multiple animated series from its catalogue, denying the artists who worked on them access to their own works—and for some of them, residuals as well.

The final question at the Q&A was from a fan who said that they’re currently in school for animation. They asked Alex if he had any advice for new animators trying to break into the industry. Immediately, my mind went to all of that news I linked in the paragraphs above. I listened intently…

Alex’s response did not have hopelessness in it. He did talk, foremost and with humor, about how risky it is to pursue art as a career, especially at this moment—laughed, as he ended a sentence with, “Don’t go into the arts.” But he moved on from that, and gave an even more honest reply: hone your skills, put your work out there, and don’t give up. Be persistent, share what you make, make what you love. Make sure it’s easy for people to contact you, explore feelings through your work even when it’s uncomfortable, and show your work to others, even though it’s scary. Alex also remarked on creating itself being hard work, from the raw process to putting your art out there to taking criticism to learning from what didn’t work and applying it to your drafts and future projects. Hard work, challenging in more ways than one, on top of an unforgiving cultural moment, yes—but keep going. Keep creating.

Keep making art.

Then the Q&A ended, and the signing began. I found myself at the end of the line, but I didn’t mind; neither did anyone else waiting with me. In the moments when I wasn’t chatting with other fans, I thought about that last question and Alex’s response.

There is little that is easy about being an artist these days. I have come to know this by having friends who are artists, by following the careers and accounts of other artists, by reading the news, and—since becoming an artist myself—finding out firsthand. But I have come to know, just as well, that the best remedy for these ills is community. Whether you create art as a hobby or you have a career in the arts, whether your medium is collaborative or solitary in nature: in the face of intolerable working conditions, cutthroat corporations and corner-cutting clients, the advantages they take, the instability and uncertainty, and what all artists can relate to: the challenges of the creative process itself—it’s the support of your fellow artists that helps you survive. It helps art survive. A community that creates alongside you can give trusted critique, celebrate with you, stand up for you, introduce you to other artists you can learn from, and give what is necessary for so many of us to create at all: encouragement. A voice that says, keep creating. This gives to the world what is necessary for us all: more art.

If tech companies develop their AI by stealing from artists, if the c-suites who own the studios see artists as disposable, with the way freelancing can throw water on creative fire, if popular opinion increasingly trends toward art only having as much value as money it makes, then we must support each other. Helpful, practical advice given by a successful artist on how to succeed in the arts in this particular moment is a gem to anyone who is reaching for that goal. But invaluable and eternal is example; not just of success, but of how to be good to your fellow artists—and in turn, to yourself.

And I just think that’s how an artist ought to be.

As the line moved, and I got close enough to see the signing table across the room, I watched Alex greet the fans ahead of me. I found that he was as sweet to people as I always have heard he is, as I remember from watching the Periscopes he appeared in during Cipher Hunt: generous with his time, genuine, and good-natured. One fan skipped away from the table with their book, and a big smile on their face.

And then it was my turn.

When you meet him, he looks you in the eye. I always forget, until I shake someone else’s hand, how small my own hands are. I told him my name is Holly. He asked, “Spelled how it sounds?” I spelled it for him, reflexively, before I could fully process the question and simply say yes. I said lightheartedly that he must be extra happy to see us, being that we were at the end of the line—it was over three hours after the event had begun—and he said, “I’m sorry you all had to wait for this long.” While he was signing my copy, I asked if he was enjoying Portland—though what I really meant to ask was if he was happy to be back in the PNW, in the summertime. He said yes, he loves it here.

It all happened so fast, with me completely forgetting that I’d passed my phone to a kind father of some fans waiting near me in line, and I almost walked away without getting a picture with him. When you meet a celebrity crush from your younger years, it has you reckon with how the part of you who crushed back then has walked with you through time—in what ways who you were back then is still a part of who you are now, and who you want to be. And, of course, it gets your heart beating a little faster, too.

There was much more I wanted to ask him (this has never stopped being the case), but there were other fans waiting for their turn, and he had given his time to just shy of 150 people already. So I smiled at him, and said thank you, and moved along.

I am, and always will be, excited to see anything Alex makes. Hearing him talk about his art, and artistry, and being an artist, was beyond wonderful; not only young Holly’s wish come true, but inspiring for Holly, today—as an artist in my own right. In the years since I retired this account, as I’ve read all this news about the industry, I’ve often wondered how Alex has been. I am very happy and grateful I was lucky enough to get a ticket to the signing, and meet him.

And finally…the Cipher Hunt news.

First: the fan waiting in front of me in the signing line (I’m so sorry I didn’t get your name, but if you’re reading this, I hope you had a safe and smooth flight back home!) said she had been to Confusion Hill recently, and that Bill and the treasure box are still there. I haven’t been to Confusion Hill since I last went in 2017–before COVID—but I think about Bill and the treasure box all the time. It made me so happy to hear that fans are still visiting and exchanging treasures. I hope I get to go again, someday soon.

The second announcement: by chance, I happened to meet a fan who is working on a documentary about Cipher Hunt. I introduced myself and said I’d be more than happy to help out with the project! The creator, Keyan Carlile, can be found on both Twitter and YouTube. I hope you’ll follow along!

I met so many other lovely fans while waiting in line, as well. There is still so much affection and excitement for this series, and it was so nice to step back into the fandom, if only or a moment. If we spoke with each other: it was so nice to meet you! Maybe our paths will cross again, someday. And to everyone, all of the fans who were there, and all of you out there with The Book of Bill:

happy reading!! ∆

[weebsinstash]

Ok so I kept procrastinating but I finally finished Masquerade earlier today and just. Oh my fucking god, kicking my feet, twirling my hair around a finger, giggling ,rewinding, smiling like a GOON, I have THOUGHTS

--Val's red coat is his WINGS and they're glorious. And not to mention he wears that like, slutty open chested black v neck underneath where he's lowkey showing off his nipples too, the slut. The gold heart belt buckle and the matching gold accented accessories too. Ugh. You can't say he doesn't dress up, and I really liked getting to see the full reveal of his body so to speak, the way his violet arms become black fingers, also is he, is he wearing like gold manicured claw cap things sometimes, why is he such a diva, he's so extra

--the Addict music video WASN'T just being artistic, Valentino's smoke CAN become physical actual chains and bondage and oh my gooddddddd I'm using this knowledge for EVIL purposes.

Boom! Sudden third eye opening moment, but remember that post I made about "Val who starts dragging you around on a leash because he's too much taller than you to keep leading you by the hand" ? His lower set of arms could totally hold onto you BUT I can totally see him using these chains all the time now, to drag you around and just restrain you and shit. Ugh. Just. Him having you completely immobilized and helpless and shaking like a chihuahua as he can run his fingers along you and whatever else he wants, listening to you gadp and squirm

-- ok I know the whole point of the poison music video was showing the horrible shit Angel is made to do and how he's dehumanized but like.... obviously, from.. a fetish perspective... you know what I think 😩❤️

Like you can't just show me a shot of Valentino having Angel in his arms and he's got all four arms wrapped around him in like almost an embrace, kissing, KISSING while they fuck. maybe I'm so shy but that's so... intimate, like, ok fuck my ass i guess, that's like sex, whatever, but kissing me on the MOUTH, let alone with tongue? you might as well be looking into my soul or something dofnofjfjg, not to mention Val biting his neck while they do it like you CAN'T me all of that and expect me to be normal!!!

--platonic yandere Husker with an alcoholic Reader though. He forces you into these weird little therapy sessions when yeah he still serves you drinks but he cuts you off when you're fucking plastered, like he enables you until you're having TOO much, amd by that point you're yammering with your loose lips and answering ALL His questions. Siiiiigh I can see him seeing how you're down on your luck and burying your worries and sorrows at the bottom of a bottle , getting so drunk you can barely sit up straight, and he starts getting protective of you, secretly following you to bars when you won't just get drunk at the hotel, making sure your drink doesn't get spiked, having to kick some ass to protect you and drag you home more than once

--i was such a fool. If Valentino is such a, quite frankly, perverted fucking idiot that he LICKS CHARLIE, fucking CHARLIE MORNINGSTAR upon first meeting her, he ABSOLUTELY does creepy shit to his darling day ONE. He CLEARLY has ZERO impulse control: he drinks, he smokes, he forces himself onto other people, he throws things when he loses his temper. He uses his power to be a bully and seeking unrestrained self gratification

--this is completely unrelated to everything else here but Zestial is hot in that like, antiquated charming eldritch evil kind of way. He seems like the sort of creature you could encounter deep within an enchanted woods, you're freshly dead and wind up in a bad part of Pentagram City and this TOWERING gentleman says some shit like "turn back child, there is no safety for you here". He's. He's sexy in that Neflix Castlevania Dracula way where there's an appeal in his age and his wisdom and his composure and just his full-on aesthetic and such. Like bro it's so easy to miss it but he's the oldest of the Overlords and he bowed in respect to Carmilla for what she did. He's chivalrous and loyal and just 👀 got my eye on him...

--bro watching Val manipulate Angel to get Charlie to leave fucking HURT and I've thought about Reader being in that exact scenario SO many times! Valentino is manipulating Angel to control you, and he's manipulating YOU to control Angel. Sure, he'll have Angel make you cry and chase you off so you don't get emotional and interfere with a shoot, or so that you don't sabotage whatever manipulated state he has Angel under at the time, but when you're off on your own drinking and crying and sobbing and feeling oh so horrible and pitiful, then Val is sibling up to you, cooing about, oh how MEAN Angel was to you, he didn't have to be so harsh to someone so sweet--

Could you imagine the fucking. Tiered angst and manipulation of Angel hurting Reader because Val pressured him to, and then Reader going off and getting drunk and being self destructive, and then at your emotional weakest Val is popping in to strike some kind of deal with you or fuck you or whatever, and then Angel blames himself, and here's Valentino, "that wouldn't have happened if you just did what you were told :3c" and Angel is even further under his control because now he's terrified he might "fuck up" and get you really hurt

--siiiiiiiigh imagine like drinking with Angel and you've been down there for like two months and you're idly chit chatting and, something something, you offhandedly mention something like "god fuck Val had me so fucking wasted I could barely sign my employee contract" CUE ANGEL IMMEDIATELY DROPPING WHATEVERS IN HIS HAND AND SHAKING YOU, "what do you MEAN you signed something??? You're just waiting tables, what did you SIGN???" And it turns out Val whipped out like ONE OF THE B I G "types" of contracts for you. God I really want some elaboration on how those contracts work and how Val or any Overlord strikes deals and even gains powers because it's very clear not everyone had the same level of abilities, and also lowkey the power scaling in Hazbin is kinda busted like not to be a dweeb but you've got people running around basically having Quirks

--ALSO THIS IS SO DUMB BUT I HAVE A COMPLAINT SIR. Valentino straight up says "no one watches porn for the dialogue" EXTREMELY INCORRECT BUZZER NOISE. When you've watched enough porn or at the very least you're hunting for a specific fetish, dialogue can be Duper important. You can see 20 different actors do the same scene BUT have a specific pair who, maybe used a specific line that stood out to you and made it unique and made it worth watching. You know for a long while there I was writing smut and feeling like I was doing the same descriptions over and over again and it kind of burnt me out and turned me off and that's when I tried to shift towards more emotional and environmental and thematic sorts of stuff

Listen all I'm saying is I have been ENAMORED like straight up with the idea of Reader becoming the fourth V because you become close to all the Vs and you have your own talents and they all like you and shit. You're able to pitch product ideas to Vox, even help him if you're a programmer or a coder or something, Valentino.... maybe you have magic hammer space pockets and can run him errands or you cook drugs or you're like a sexy bodyguard for him or, he just likes getting drunk and doing drugs with you, and Velvette is that #Bitch who you gossip with who likes to design new shit for you and bounce ideas off of you from time to time. Like the gradual slide of "oh we're all hanging out and they think I'm actually kind of cool," to "oh they keep inviting me to hang out. I feel special. I'm one of the cool kids. Maybe I even have fun powers and they encourage me to be mean and evil and its fun" to then "oh you're straight up shoving new clothes in my face and you keep using this one specific V nickname for me instead of my real name and I stg I don't have personal space anymore and I'm always being crowded by at least one of you literally 24/7"

God just. God. Just. GOD I AM SO WELL FED. I saw what Viv was selling and I got in line and I've finally gotten my food and it is FILLING, my craving for controlling obsessive possessive douchebags is sooooo sated right now 😩❤️

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey Raven, have you finished watching Black Butler: Public School Arc? :'D I recently finished watching the anime, It was good! I loved it! I know a lot of fans were disappointed with the different art styles/animation, but studio CloverWorks did such an amazing job! I wonder when we'll get another season, probably in another 4 years 🫠

Obviously, I couldn't help but notice the similarities between the main characters and the Twst cast. Especially that one scene where Ciel walks to the Purple House/Violet Wolf dormitory, and I instantly thought, "No way, that's basically the ramshackle Dorm!"

That being said, just for the funsies, if the Twst cast were to be students in Weston College, which dorms do you think they would be assigned to? We've got Scarlet Fox, Sapphire Owl, Green Lion, and Violet Wolf. I think it’s a fun scenario to imagine the Twst cast in Weston College lolol.

Oooh, I actually don’t watch a lot of anime (it’s hard for me to sit still for like 20 minutes straight) 😅 but it’s nice to know that people are enjoying the adaptation of the Public School arc! I have fond memories of that part, even though I no longer follow Black Butler. I blame it for the horrible realization that I find Mr. Phantomhive hot—

And yes, lots of people have pointed out the similarities between the BB Public School arc and TWST. It makes sense since Yana was the creative spearheading both; there was sure to be spillover!

xbjsvsjww442,2!funNbejw 😭 I don’t remember the houses that well, so I did a quick Google search before writing these up. (Apologies if I misinterpreted something!) This is where I would slot the 22 NRC boys:

Scarlet Fox/Red House - for students of high class and noble lineages

Malleus (prince, duh)

Riddle (counting upper middle class since Riddle’s parents are also upper middle class; therefore the wealth can be considered generational)

Kalim (rich Rich RICH)

Leona (could also toss him in Blue or Green house as a little jab at his being second in line but I’ll be yasashii to him)

Sapphire Owl/Blue House - for students who are at the top of academics

Azul (all that shady contract work and abusing loopholes takes a lot of brainpower :v)

Idia (tech geek)

Ortho (is literally an artificial intelligence android)

Ace (okay, maybe his grades suck but I’m counting his cheeky cleverness here)

Jamil (he’s not allowed to excel in TWST because of Kalim so assume he is allowed to excel in these circumstances; if not, maybe he’d be in Red House with Kalim as his attendant 😞)

Jade (pretty crafty in general; prefers to plot before acting or resorting to violence)

Green Lion/Green House - for students who excel in athletics

Jack (see: arms)

Sebek (see: Arms)

Silver (see: ARMS; could also put him in Red House but that would be a spoiler www)

Ruggie (not super strong but pretty lanky and swift; could also work in Blue House for his street smarts)

Floyd (throw fists first, ask questions later twin)

Deuce (ex-delinquent; brute forces his way though problems with his sheer stubbornness)

Violet Wolf/Purple House - for students who are accomplished in the arts

***I expanded the definition of “the arts” to include acting, cooking, music, etc. As a result, this iteration of Purple House is more… flashy… and less gloomy.***

Trey (baker)

Vil (HUGE in the entertainment sector)

Cater (influencer ✨, loves aesthetics)

Rook (he’s constantly in pursuit of beauty; see also: concealed A R M S)

Lilia (he’s… creative)

Epel (dragged along here with the rest of Pomefiore, but does have artistic skills via his apple cutting)