#me *picks a difficult angle*

[hinamie]

playing around w slightly different hair renders

[beneathsilverstars]

the dissociaterrrr

(They're good enough at Tetris that a couple dollars in quarters will last them a decent amount of time, but sometimes they splurge and get the $12 all-you-can-play pass. The album they're listening to is harsh noise!)

[gibbearish]

hi i’m not really sure how to do this but i came from your uquiz and you seem knowledgeable and nice and so i’m asking you a question now i’m sorry

uhm, so, i think i maybe might be trans (ftm) because i’m super dysphoric and i sometimes look at guys and i get really jealous because they just get to, like, exist like that (i’m not really sure what the “that” is, but god, do i want it) and i very much don’t and when i refer to myself using he/him pronouns in my head it feels, uhm, at the risk of being a cliche, right, i guess.

but the thing is that i don’t really fit into any of the stereotypical trans guy things. like a lot of my friends when i was little were girls and though i have some stereotypically masculine hobbies (sports and physics) i also sew, and when i was little i was obsessed with being a princess for like a month before i started refusing to wear dresses.

i don’t think i’m non-binary, i tried using they/them pronouns this summer and while they didn’t actively hurt like she does, they didn’t really feel right.

so, like, am i lying to myself? i don’t know, maybe i just want to be special (i don’t want it, though, if i could just be happy as a girl i would).

sorry i just unloaded half an essay on you you obviously don’t have to reply and i know you’re probably not qualified to answer anyway, i just needed to tell someone, you know?

anyways, i hope you’re having a nice night or day or whatever. thank you, for, like, existing on the internet i guess. your quiz was very nice. bye.

howdy anon! dw i am always glad to answer questions abt this stuff even tho it make take me a while lol

my best advice for situations like this is i know its easy but don't let yourself get caught up in the trap of "well this is the label that makes me feel best but i dont technically check off every single box for it so am i just lying?" people arent video game quests, you dont have to hit every single box for it to count, youre allowed to have stuff fall outside the technical definition of a term while still calling yourself it. im very similar to you, i was in tap and ballet growing up, wore dresses and makeup for most of highschool, sewing crocheting knitting the whole shebang. but the important part is that none of those things make a difference to your identity. knowing how to sew doesnt make you a girl, it can just make you a guy who knows how to sew. its a thing you do, not who you are.

all that being said, i think another helpful angle to look at things is "does the distinction between two similar labels actually make a difference to me?" using myself as an example again, i dont call myself a trans man because while i do prefer presenting masculine, for some reason the term 'man' just doesnt feel right for me. but at the same time, to the rest of the world that's functionally what i am, right? so does that change /who/ i am? no. so for me personally, ive deliberately chosen not to file myself into either "trans man" or "nonbinary" and just move on with my day, because to me it doesnt actually make a difference which one i am, im still gonna stay on t, i still want top surgery, i still want to be perceived masculine, and thats not gonna change no matter what name is on the box so who gives a shit. just do what makes you happy

[alexiroflife]

how jjk men would react if they found out you sh…

Warning(s): cw//self harm, graphic depictions, mentions of depression, anxiety, sensitive content, angst/comfort

-> if you or anyone you know is struggling with self-harm, suicidal thoughts, depression, etc., know that you aren’t alone. as someone who used to struggle with these things myself, i understand how difficult it can be, but know that you are strong and you are loved. and thank you for the ask, this is a very important topic and i appreciate the vulnerability of the request. sending all the possible love in the world to all of you.

gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna

satoru gojo: satoru has an incredible sense of sight, thanks to his gift of the six eyes, as well as very keen observation skills. he picks up on little habits you harbor very quickly during the beginning of your relationship. you always choose to wear long-sleeved clothing, even when it’s warm, and you tug at your sleeves as though you are desperately trying to conceal a certain part of yourself from the outside world, from him. he doesn’t understand why at first. the thought crosses his mind that you just aren’t comfortable in sleeveless clothing, but you’ve shown him pictures of yourself from a decade ago when you’d wear variations of different tank tops, short sleeves, and more. he doesn’t understand what changed somewhere along the line. perhaps your sense of style has shifted? maybe you don't like your arms? (he can't understand how because he finds them to be the most gorgeous arms he's ever seen).

but no, something is nagging at him in the back of his head, churning the contents of his gut as though there is something he needs to know, to see that you were hiding, and when the moment unveiled itself, he instantly saw. 

you’re in your kitchen while satoru watches you from the other side of the island, leaning over and gazing at your movements with a soft smile. his blue eyes scattered across your body, admiring you while simultaneously searching for any clue, any answer to his hovering questions.

“where’d i put the containers,” you murmur to yourself in the midst of making lunch for the week, moving about your space rather slowly. 

satoru offers his own help, pointing a slender finger over to the space above your head. “did you check that cabinet?” he asks.

you turn over your shoulder and quirk your brow. “oh, do you live here now? suddenly know where everything is?” you ask playfully, a small smile rising to your lips as satoru chuckles. 

“not yet,” he winks. “but i sure am working on it, though. you know i have to make myself familiar with the space in case we share it someday.”

“is that so?”

“or, of that doesn't work out you could always live with me. i’d love to have you.”

“we’ve been together for three weeks, satoru.”

“yeah, but what does that matter when it comes to loveeee,” he pouts and you giggle, shaking your head as you turn back to reach for the cabinet. you stand on your tiptoes and reach out, sleeve of your sweet draping down to your elbow.

satoru is quick to his feet to help you, though you’re more than capable, when he catches the sight of what looks like a scar streaking over the inside of your wrist. his face falls and his brows angle, marching over to you quickly with a look of urgency on his face.

you don’t register how fast he is moving until you feel him behind you. you turn and look up, caught off guard by the way his eyes had hardened and his pupils shrank. your hand stalls on the cabinet handle, the scars on your arm completely slipping your mind momentarily.

“satoru? you okay?”

he doesn’t answer, grasping your wrist in his hand gently and pulling it down from above you. your eyes flicker up to the movement, and when you realize what is happening, your heart sinks. your eyes go wide and you try to tug your arm away, but satoru’s grip tightens slightly, extending your arm by your wrist to display the inside of your forearm before him. 

he thinks his vision is blurring over, his heart ringing in his ears, his breaths quickening as his eyes detail over the row of rigid scars lining from your inner elbow up to your wrist. his world collapses around him, lips stretching into a disbelieving grimace as his wild eyes survey the damage. some of those scars look newer than others, scabbing over with specs of purple, while the others are far older. 

you panic, trying to tug away again, but satoru’s grip on you is too secure. a lump forms in your throat as you search for things to say, anything to say that could take your boyfriend’s attention away, that could excuse the sight before him as something else. “s-satoru, wait-” you stammer, your voice weaker than you had intended it to be. 

satoru looks like he can’t hear you, nose flaring as he stares, and stares, and stares, and suddenly, your vulnerability is bare naked before him, on display for him to judge, to belittle, to curl his brows at and determine as pathetic and weak. you can feel yourself about to cry already, shaken by this sudden attention.

“satoru,” you whisper, arm trembling within his grasp.

“what is this?” he breathes out so quietly, his voice betraying himself and hardly reaching over a brush through the wind. when you do not answer, those pained eyes are on you, tormented by the sight he has just witnessed. “(y/n), what is this?”

you feel small, avoiding his eyes and looking all over the floor. “i- it’s nothing,” you murmur.

“nothing?” he repeats, as though he has been burned by your response. the white haired man quickly seeks out your other wrist, reaching down to your other side as you try to turn away, but he, of course, manages to seize it and extend it like your other arm and roll up that sleeve. the same row of scars litter your beautiful skin.

satoru’s a mess, frightened, confused, devastated. this is what you had been hiding from him all this time? “this isn’t fucking nothing, (y/n), they’re all over you! what did you do?”

you still can’t respond, you can’t muster up an excuse, you can’t do anything. satoru’s concern is far too overbearing, his gaze too intense, and his hold on you too secure. it feels like he has you laid out on a slab before him, stripped of your clothes as he examines your body with contempt.

he’s disgusted. he’s ashamed, you think. 

amid his grief, he catches the terrified look in your eye, your lips tugged downward as if to prevent yourself from crying. you look so scared.

how could he have not seen this sooner, that you’re hurting? that you’re hurting yourself? 

“baby, what did you do?” he repeats, softer this time as he leans down to look at you, your body trembling in his hold. his thumbs graze your inflamed skin, hesitant to touch you for fear that you may break.

“please don’t,” you breathe out in a huff, voice wobbling as you scrunch your eyes closed. “please, don’t look. just forget you saw it, please.”

“forget i-?” satoru has to stop himself from lashing out poorly, from allowing his emotions to overcome him in what he understands is clearly your moment of need. “how could you ask me to do something like that? (y/n), your arms, baby!”

“satoru, please-” you shake your head. you want to shrink away, to hide, to vanish into thin air. “i don’t wanna talk about it. please.”

“(y/n),” he exhales, closing his eyes to gather himself. “(y/n),” he repeats softly, hands releasing your wrists slowly and sliding up your arms to delicately hold your shoulders. “we can’t not talk about this. you have to tell me what’s been going on. you have to, baby, you have to understand how scared I am right now. help me understand. let me help you, let me take on whatever burden you’re carrying, please, I’ll do anything as long as it means you’re not hurting yourself.”

his hands move to your neck, cupping over the skin as he ducks his head down to look at you more clearly. 

“i can’t stand the thought that you’ve been- and i haven’t-” satoru was stumbling now, throat straining as the urge to cry rose. “why didn’t you come to me? i’m right here for you, (y/n), i always have been. why didn’t you tell me?”

“...it’s embarrassing,” you manage to say, your voice fragile, on the verge of breaking. you can feel your boyfriend’s eyes peering into you even with your own eyes closed. “didn’t want you to see… I didn’t wanna be a burden.”

satoru’s heart is breaking for you, hurt that you could even think of yourself as a burden to him. “have i- have i done or said anything to you to make you feel that way?” he asks genuinely, and you cringe, turning your head to the side to open your eyes.

“no, of course not.”

“then why would you think that, baby?”

you shrug helplessly, tears welling into your eyes. satoru sees you, all of you, his heart thrumming to capture the pain you feel and to lift it from your chest, to help you breathe even just a little bit. he releases a weighted sigh, one of sadness, of love, of heartache for you, and he’s pulling you into him as your arms dangle limply at your sides. 

you scrunch your eyes and immediately break down into him, sobbing into his shirt as his warm hands wash over your frame and cradle your head to him, the muscles in his face tight with anguish. he holds onto you like he’s horrified that you will fade away within his arms. 

“i’m just so tired, toru,” you cry into his chest, dampening the fabric of his shirt. “i’m sorry.”

satoru doesn’t respond, afraid that if he speaks, he’ll end up crying too. you’re his girl, his beautiful, loving girl, and the fact that you have done such harm to yourself is incomprehensible to him. if you love him so, how can you hate yourself enough to have done this?

“how long?” is all he can ask you, breath heaving into your hair and ear. you hesitate, for he already seems so wounded by his discovery. “tell me.”

“...two years…”

he’s crushed. how did he not see sooner? how could he have been so blind after having bragged about being able to see everything so clearly? how could he have left you like this?

he holds you tighter, digging his head into the crook of your neck and hunching over, your eyes now seeing over the curve of his broad shoulder. 

“i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes to you in turn, fingers curling into your hair as he holds your scalp. “i'm sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”

you’re confused as to why he’s apologizing to you since the entire thing is your fault. satoru has a tendency to take on your emotions, piling them onto his own weight of carrying the title of the strongest. you never understood why he did so naturally and willingly, and why even now as you stood limply in his arms, he’s crying for the things you did to yourself.

he pulls away with shiny red eyes, gazing down into your shiny red eyes and tear stained cheeks. you’re so beautiful, he thinks. he hates that such beauty has been suffering in so much silence.

“(y/n), I love you more than anything in this goddamn world. please don’t- don’t keep doing this to yourself. if you’re hurting, come to me. hurt me if you have to lash out, but don’t hurt yourself beautiful.”

“i would never even think of hurting you, satoru.”

“then don’t think of doing it to yourself,” he says firmly, and you press your lips together. 

“…i-i don’t know how to… to stop,” you mumble, and he’s taking your hands in his and kissing them gently.

“i’ll help you. we can get you help, baby, I promise. just promise me, please,” he begs you, holding your hands close to his heart. “you come to me when you feel like doing that, okay? you come to me. and I’ll do whatever I can. let me help you. let me be there for you. i won’t let you push me out, (y/n).”

you're crying again, tears streaking over your face as satoru’s love captures you within his words, within his warmth as he forces you to understand that you are not alone, and never will be. 

satoru kisses your hands again. his lips reach your cheek, and his hand comes to tuck your head into his shoulder again, holding you and telling you that you have him to go to when your world grows dark.

geto suguru: if suguru could sum you up into one word, he would say that you're his universe.

everything in his life he does for the sake of you and his girls, for the sake of keeping you safe and making you happy. your happiness and your comfortability are the only things that suguru prioritizes above all else, making them his very goal to serve each and every day.

suguru's not the most stable, you know that and he knows that himself. he has his off days, where he falls quiet and the world around him numbs itself and the noise becomes a muffle in his ears until you step into view, giving him a smile and wrapping his big frame up in your small arms, your voice whispering to him and breaking through the fog. you're his sanctuary. you're his safe place, and he loves you so much. he owes his entire life to you, therefore ensuring that you feel just as loved as you make him feel is very important to him.

so when he catches sight of the scars on your stomach one day by accident, when you lift up mimiko to sit on your shoulder as nanako jumps up for you to pick her up to, and her shoe kicks up your shirt from your waist momentarily, suguru freezes.

are you hurt? did someone do this to you? did you do this to yourself?

countless thoughts are racing through suguru's mind as he stares at you in a daze, watching you laugh so joyfully along with the girls as though no trouble plagues you.

but there is. you've just been hiding it. hiding it far too well.

his mind is elsewhere for the rest of the day, unsure of if he had been imagining things or not. he knows you so well, or at least he thinks he does. how have you been hiding those marks littering your lower abdomen? how had he missed them?

he thinks back to the moments you two were intimate and recalls that you never wanted to remove the tanktop you wore or let him kiss further than your ribs. he recalls the days you all went to the beach and you kept a white shirt over your swimsuit or elected to wear a onepiece. he recalls how quickly you change when he's with you, your back turned to him as you rush to throw something on over your upper body.

the signs... they're all there. you've been hiding yourself from him, but why? what have you been doing? have you truly been harming yourself, or is that thought a trick of suguru's worst fears?

he tries to keep himself calm around you and the girls for the remainder of the day until they are put to sleep and the two of you are alone again.

you sit on the edge of your shared bed, rubbing lotion over your arms with your back facing suguru again. he watches you carefully, back resting against the headboards and hazel eyes trained on your figure as though you aren't real.

he waits for the proper moment, waiting for you to crawl up and curl under his side, his arm subconsciously wrapping over your waist as your head lays on his chest. he stares at the ceiling for a moment, thinking as weighty silence overcomes you, then he's cautiously speaking.

"(y/n)?"

the soft call of your name brings your head up to peer at him curiously, blinking innocently. he turns down to look at your face and his heart clenches. while he knows that he knows what he saw, he doesn't want to believe it. he doesn't want to think that you, such a selfless and caring person for him, would hurt yourself.

you hum up at him, wondering what he has called you for. you see the pensive look in his face, the subtle knit in his brow as he stares at you, gears in his head turning. "yeah sugu?" you say gently.

he doesn't want to ask, but he has to. he doesn't want the confirmation, but he needs to know.

"i want to ask you a question..." he says, and you grow slightly befuddled.

"...okay?" you start. "is it serious?"

"yeah, it is," he admits, and you suddenly grow nervous, immediately catching an idea of what this could be about. you don't like the look on his face, the way he appears so serious.

"...alright," you mumble, suddenly meek.

the black haired man stares for a few more moments, just looking at you, taking in your the features he feel so deeply in love with, the features that bring him comfort and peace. "i saw something earlier, when you were holding mimiko," he begins softly, thumb caressing your back to ease you into the conversation.

you feel your heart jolt anxiously, trying to keep a straight face so as to not give your nerves away, but knowing suguru, he could likely already tell that you're getting antsy.

you lift your head to look at him, hand resting over his chest, and his eyes follow you smoothly. his eyes are focused, lips in a firm line.

"your shirt lifted, and i saw your stomach. i saw some marks. a lot of them, actually," he says, and you still completely, like a deer caught in headlights. his hand presses gently into your back, trying to keep you present with him as his concerns grow worse when he sees you stiffen against him. he frowns, denial still taking hold of him. "(y/n), please tell me those aren't what i think they are," he sighs heavily.

you feel caught.

you knew that suguru would find out at some point or another, but that didn't make this moment any less horrifying for you. it's so quiet in your room, so isolating, no background noise of the girls giggling or the distant buzz of the tv to help weaken the intensity of this point in time. you feel like a spotlight is shining overhead, an audience awaiting eagerly for you to reveal your secrets to the crowd.

suguru sits up slightly, his calmness gradually shifting into terrified incredulity. your eyes are on his face but your gaze is elsewhere, far off. you look uncomfortable, stuck, and no explanation hits suguru's ears.

"(y/n)," he says your name again, looking desperately down at you. "tell me i'm wrong."

you wish you could, you really do, but you can't lie to suguru. he knows you too well, he loves you too much, and to lie to him would be like denying his understanding of who you are.

you feel your skin flush with shame and anxiety, heartbeat likely loud enough for your boyfriend to hear.

you worry. you worry about your boyfriend's judgment, for his reaction. is he going to be angry with you?

"hey," he snaps you out of your daze with the drag of your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes as he stares at you helplessly. you look at him and frown, ashamed that you are the reason he looks so pained. "what's going on?"

the question comes out so delicately, it makes your heart break. a whisp of understanding blends into his tone with empathy, yet a crushing sense of sadness and guilt that overpowers the aforementioned emotions. you struggle to look him in his kind eyes, dreading his consolation that you feel you don't deserve.

"talk to me, (y/n)."

you chew angrily on the inside of your lip, looking down at your finger as you pick at his shirt. he watches your brows furl, an array of different feelings capturing your features. "i was gonna tell you about it..." you murmur, and suguru is floored.

"what?" he breathes out as though he has no more air. you wince, lowering your head. "you-" he pauses, mind jumping from one place to another. "you did that to yourself?"

"i'm sorry, i-" you can feel your throat growing tight. "i've been trying to-"

"to stop?" he tries to finish for you, grasping for any kind of explanation. he's devastated, not only because you've been harming yourself, but because you've been so busy looking after him and the girls that he hasn't noticed. you're the one who always comforts him, but while you've been doing that, you've been aching on the inside and trying to hide it.

you nod meekly when he concludes for you. "i just- i thought the feelings would go away, so i didn't say anything, but they're just getting worse and i don't know what to do anymore and i only feel better after i..."

"(y/n)," he stops you gently, his heart shattering upon listening to you ramble, spilling out the things you have been holding onto for what he assumes to have been so long. "you've been dealing with this all this time?"

"...it's on and off," you confess. "some days are better than others, but..."

suguru finds your words familiar, for he often finds himself in the exact same mindset; feeling functional and confident some days, and others, not so much, but you're the reason why he's able to handle his bad days, yet he hasn't been the same for you for as long as the two of you have been together.

he feels almost sick. he loves you to death. you're his everything, but you've been in pain, and he hasn't seen it.

the way he's looking at you now makes you feel guilty, remorseful, embarrassed. you know you should have told him, but you could never find the strength to. you had always been too scared. and the longer you self-harm, the less you are willing to admit to yourself and to your boyfriend that you have a problem.

you're shocked, though, when suguru's hands tighten over you and his face grows bitter, not with you but with himself. "how could i have been so stupid?" he grumbles, distraught. "and so selfish? all this time, you-"

"no, suguru, please, it's not your fault," you try to tell him.

"i should have seen, baby, i should have noticed something sooner. and all this time, instead you've been looking after me when i should have been looking after you."

"don't say that, suguru," you shift, looking sadly into his eyes. "it's my fault. i'm the one who did this, i'm the one who's to blame. i'm the stupid and selfish one, not you."

suguru's frown deepens, sad eyes looking over your face. you blame and belittle yourself just as easily as suguru does, and he can't stand it. he can't stand to see you like this, to be so aware of hurt before him. he wants, no, he needs to take all that pain away from you. he needs to exorcize it, rid your body of it, cast it away so that you can be happy from now until the rest of time. he needs you to be okay.

"i swear on my life, (y/n)," he begins firmly, eyes boring straight into yours, holding your cheek. "i will do everything in my power to get you through this. whatever it takes, no matter how long it takes, i will be here for you. you're not alone, you understand? you don't need to pretend for me. the girls love you- god i love you so fucking much, and i can't stomach to think of the times you've suffered in silence for my sake. i'm no good if you're no good, baby. i need to know these things, i need to be able to help you."

your nose twitches and your jaw clenches as you look into him, breathing growing unstable. suguru has always been so generous and so loving. he has a way with his words and how safe they make you feel even during your worst moments.

"but what if i can't do it, sugu?" you whisper, his thumb catching the tear that leaks from the corner of your eye. "what if i'm not strong enough to get better?"

"you are strong enough," he affirms confidently. "more than strong enough. and when you feel weak, lean on me. but you have to promise me something."

you nod slowly, mutely, keeping his gaze as he stares at you lovingly, wistfully.

"promise me you won't do it," his words come out as a quick, hasty breath. his brows curl further upward, his desperation plain on his pretty face. "promise me you'll let me know as soon as you want to, but don't hurt yourself again, (y/n). don't do it. i'm begging you. you don't deserve that pain."

though you are unsure if you can even make that promise to yourself, you force yourself to try. for suguru's sake. "okay," you mumble, and he sighs, kissing you softly and pulling you to his chest to whisper sweet nothings as his hands soothe over your stomach and your back.

nanami kento: you twist your fingers around each other as you sit in the living room while kento cooks in the kitchen. you're nervous, more nervous than you have been about anything in your entire life, but you know that you need to rip off this bandaid to approach your boyfriend about such a serious matter.

recently, you find yourself returning to the old habit that you believed to have been relinquished. you thought that you had gotten better, that the urge to self harm had completely gone away after having spent so much time in therapy trying to heal, but recently, you've been feeling down again, useless, angry with yourself. you didn't want to tell nanami at first because you didn't think that your current mood would go beyond feeling depressed, but now that you've started scratching away at your thighs and your arms again, you know that you need to let him know what's going on. you know that you can't go on like this anymore.

but you have no idea what to say.

nanami has been nothing but doting toward you, bringing you flowers every morning, making your meals, ensuring that you remember to schedule doctor's appointments or to keep yourself warm when it's cold out- the man's life revolves around your comfortability, and while you know he would be far more offended if you keep this to yourself, you're horrified to see his reaction when you tell him that you relapsed.

nanami is well aware of your past difficulties with your mental health, and he always tells you that if you are ever in a dark space again, he needs to know. even so, he hasn't been with you when you're like this. the two of you got together after the multiple therapy visits that helped you to shift mindsets, so now that you feel this way again, and while in a relationship with nanami no less, you feel petrified.

you don't even notice when he rounds the kitchen counter to make his way over to the dining table, setting down two plates of food. he looks over and catches the way you stare ahead blankly, lost in thought. you've been doing a lot of that lately and he wonders if something is wrong.

nevertheless, he knows that if something is bothering you, you'll tell him. "sweetheart, dinner's ready," he calls out, and you snap your head over to him, his voice bringing you out of your daze.

you stand wordlessly, movements somewhat robotic, as you slowly make your way over to the table. "thanks, ken," you say softly, lacking your usual energy, and at this point, your partner knows for certain that something is off.

he watches you carefully as you sit down, pushing in your seat for you and pecking your forehead before sitting down next to you. "tell me how your day was," he starts, brushing off his hands and reaching one out to rest one on your knee as he always did at the table. he's prying, you can tell, trying to learn if something that happened throughout the day affected your mood.

your heart is hammering loudly, your eyes stuck to the plate and unable to look up at him. "it was okay," you respond.

"just okay?" he questions and you nod slowly. "did something happen?"

you flicker your eyes up to his brown ones suddenly, caught off guard by the question. he sees the questioning in your eyes and replies accordingly.

"you seem to be a little off, this evening, that's all."

you hum, unsure of how to respond to his observation. you look away again, contemplating. just say it, you think. just tell him, just get it over with.

as you struggle against yourself, nanami only grows more concerned. you don't confirm or deny his comment, and the way you turn away has him wondering if he's done something to hurt you.

"did i do something wrong, darling?" he asks.

you furrow your brows and quickly shut down the idea. "no, no. not at all, ken. it's nothing you did."

"then... there is something troubling you?"

you stall a bit more now that you're on the spot, cursing the fact that kento is always so quick to pick up on the smallest changes in your demeanor.

"(y/n)?" he calls you when you don't answer.

"i have to tell you something," you say abruptly. you see nanami's brows raise ever so slightly, soft brown eyes looking over your face in an attempt to read the situation before you tell him anything. "it's... a lot. so i need you to just... bear with me. and please don't be mad."

nanami's brow twitches slightly as he looks at you, head tilting. he grabs the bottom of his chair and shuffles it closer to you, leaning over slightly and running his hand over where it resides on your knee.

"i could never be mad at you," he tells you earnestly, as though it's the most honest thing he's said in the world. "what's the matter, my love?"

god, he's so sweet to you it makes you physically ill that you have to break this news to him.

"...do you remember when we talked about... um..." your voice fades off, nanami's concentrated gaze only making you more nervous for what his reaction will be.

"take your time," he encourages you, and you only feel worse.

you return to chewing on the inside of your lip anxiously, picking at your shirt under the table. the blonde man beside you is ever so patient, allowing you to gather your thoughts before you verbalize them.

"...um...it's.... about what we talked about a while ago..."

"...and that would be regarding?"

"my... past."

nanami furrows his brows, still not quite understanding. "i apologize, honey, what about your past?"

just rip the bandaid. just rip the bandaid.

"my past with self-harming," you rush out, and the weighty silence that follows is enough to make you want to sink into the floor and let it swallow you whole.

you can feel his eyes burning into you, processing what you just told him, and all you can hear is the pound of your heart in your ears as his hand stills upon your knee.

nanami, on the other hand, is completely shocked by your revelation. while he understands that your relapsing has always been a very realistic possibility, he never wanted to entertain the idea that it could very much so happen- at least, not while he's around.

a sense of fear grips him. are you going to tell him that you relapsed? have you already hurt yourself? has he failed to be there when it happened??

"did you-" he doesn't know what he wants to ask, or how. he hates that he is already jumping to conclusions, but the way you are structuring this conversation with him only leads him to believe the worst. "what happened?"

your head hangs low and your fingers taut on your shirt, lips tightening as they press together. you can hear the disbelief in his voice already, and it breaks you.

"i relapsed."

the brown-eyed man clenches his jaw, falling completely silent once more to not react in a way that may worsen your state. you feel his hand tighten into a fist over top of your leg as he lowers his head, rubbing his eyes with his fingers and inhaling sharply. you feel like a child who is awaiting punishment as you look at his hunched state, a million questions of what he will do next running through your mind.

you hate to do this to him. nanami already has so much on his plate, you know this is the last thing he needs to be stressing over. you wish you could be okay for him. it's not his fault that your mind takes you to these places, and you don't want him to bear responsibility as though it is his doing. even so, you already know that he will because that's the type of man kento is. that's the type of boyfriend kento is.

you wait a few more moments in unbearable muteness. after what feels like forever, kento lifts his head again and rests his chin on his fist, elbow propped on his knee. he's looking to the side, deep in anguished thought. he no longer looks surprised, but rather guilty and frustrated. "when?" is the first thing he asks.

"yesterday," you answer dejectedly, and he almost jerks, his body twitching in reaction. "...are you mad?"

nanami looks at you and his hardened expression immediately softens into something melancholy. "no- no, of course not, (y/n), no," he shakes his head as if the notion is unfathomable, releasing his fist to cup your knee again more securely. "i will never be angry with you for what you're going through. never. no, i'm not mad."

you nod quickly, a meek sense of relief and sorrow taking over you, a weight heaving from your chest upon letting it out. "okay," you whimper.

"come here, my darling," he coaxes you softly, opening and grabbing your hand from under the table delicately to lead you to stand over him. his hand guides over the small of you're back once you're up, leading you to sit on his lap with your back pressed against the table and your legs dangling over one side of his chair.

he holds your forearms gently, looking up at you with sad, understanding eyes. "are you comfortable showing me?" he murmurs so intimately, easing you into his warm consolation.

you don't nod or answer him verbally. instead, you wordlessly roll up the sleeve of your sweater to reveal angry red scratch lines running up your inner forearm. nanami's lips curl in pain as though he can feel the sting of your scars, holding your arm gently for him to look over it.

the sight kills him, though he tries to keep his cool. this isn't about him, it's about you, but goodness, the image of the scars on your beautiful skin makes him hurt like no other pain he's experienced.

"is this all of it?" he asks you, and you shake your head.

"there's some on my thighs," you mutter, looking down.

he nods. "alright," he sighs. "alright."

"...i know you have so much on your plate already... i just-"

"don't. don't even," he stops you, eyes still roaming over your irritated skin. nanami usually commends himself for remaining collected in times of crisis, but he's desperately fighting a part of him that wants to yell out and cry for the sake of you.

he imagines you struggling with this on your own, long before he came into your life, and the thought makes him cringe to picture just how far this must have gotten. these scratches he is surveying now already look bad enough. were the other ones worse?

"(y/n), you know this isn't okay," he looks up at your face and sees how you are avoiding his eyes. you look so small compared to how you usually carry yourself, and it kills him. "to harm yourself like this... you can't treat yourself this way, darling, you know you can't."

"i know," you mumble. "i just had a moment, and now i'm scared that- that i'll go back to how things were."

"as long as i'm with you, you won't. i promise you that," nanami swears. "it was just this one time since you last?"

you nod. "yeah..."

"okay," he nods once more, convincing himself that this is something he can help stop before it gets any more out of hand. "why'd you do it this time, my love? what were you thinking that led you here? is there something i can do differently? is it work? is it a combination of things?"

"i wish it were that easy to explain, kento," you frown, glancing up at him helplessly. "but it's just... it's just a feeling i can't put into words. i can't pinpoint the source. i just... one minute i felt like i couldn't breathe, and the next i was..."

"okay," he repeats, letting you know that you no longer need to say anything more. you don't have to revisit it. he understands. he will take care of it. he'll help you. "okay, darling. how about this. i call off of work tomorrow and we can sit and talk about seeing a new therapist. then we can go out and do whatever you want. just for fun. does that sound okay with you?"

your nose flares and your lips tug to the side as you nod, truly not comprehending how you managed to find a man so patient with you. "yeah, that's good," you say softly, and nanami is at least relieved that you are willing to take further steps into a better direction.

"good," he whispers, rolling the sleeve of your sweater back down so that you no longer feel exposed or feel like you have to think any more about the things you did to yourself when you felt alone. "it's alright, my love. we'll get through it. you'll get past this just like you did last time," he encourages you, moving to caress your shoulder lovingly as you hold his gaze. "it's okay," he tells you again, and you nod weakly, leaning over to plop your head against his shoulder.

nanami holds you to him and exhales, food completely forgotten. his only priority now is to be there for you in the ways he could not before the two of you met.

"thank you for telling me."

choso kamo: choso worships the ground you walk on because he can not fathom a world without, nor the fact that you happened to stumble into his life on a whim. to imagine you hurt is the very worst thing that the man can think of, and the notion that you would hurt yourself is beyond his comprehension.

you aren't actively trying to hide any of your scars when he finds them. the scars are old, faded reminders of the pain that you used to endure and how you attempted to cope with it. while you are now six months free of self harming, the scars remain very present.

choso happens to catch sight of your scars when you are getting changed. he's sitting at the edge of your bed, face flushed, as he watches you blissfully change out of your pajamas and into clothes that you feel are best suited for a walk to the ice cream shop that choso has proposed. it's a bright sunday afternoon, and the brunette is eager to take advantage of the weather with the woman he holds close to his heart as well as his baby brother, who the two of you intend to meet at the store.

you're now dressed in nothing but a large white shirt and underwear, your legs bare as you strut around the space freely. choso's jade eyes follow you as you walk, completely obsessed with the way you move. he could watch you do the most mundane things for hours, which he truthfully tends to do anyway.

your back is to him before you round the bed, disappearing into the bathroom momentarily before coming back into the living room. choso's eyes still don't leave you, tracing over your face down your figure and finally to the front of your bare legs.

he falters, and his brows draw together when he catches dark marks littering over your inner thighs, only revealing themselves with the movement of your limbs as you walk.

the pale-skinned man grows confused and slightly concerned. he's never seen those marks on you before, and simultaneously, never on anyone else he knows either. he finds them to be a strange form of battle scars, especially due to the placement, the small size, and the sheer number of them. some of them take different shapes too, blurring together or over each other, while some stand out alone. they almost look like burns, but it's hard for choso to really tell.

you proceed about your business, searching through your drawer to pull out a skirt, when choso speaks up.

"love? what are those?" he asks curiously, perplexed.

you turn over your shoulder, shutting your drawer closed with your foot. "hm? what's what, cho?" you ask him, unsure of what he's referring.

choso, still slightly flustered by the vision of your half exposed body, nods his head into the direction of your lower legs. "those," he says again, and you look down, still lost.

you lift your foot momentarily, checking to see if something is stuck under or on top of it. you then survey the rest of your body, searching for something out of the ordinary. "uhhh," you trail off. "i'm not sure what you mean, baby. you're talking about my legs?"

you are far too desensitized to and familiar with the image of your scars to process that choso has never seen them before. the brunette, however, is unsatisfied, wanting an answer that you have yet to provide.

he leans forward, lifting his hand and pointing his finger directly to a patch of dark spots peeking out from your inner thighs. you follow his gaze, eyes landing on the culprits, and your shoulders drop in realization. "oh," you say shortly, choso retracting his hand.

he looks at you innocently, awaiting a response while you try to figure out how to explain this sight to him.

you don't want to worry him, but knowing choso, if you lead with the fact that these scars are there because you inflicted them onto yourself, he would have a heart attack, failing to find reason to your words.

even so, you know choso only wants to understand you as much as you desire to understand him. he wants to see the ugly parts as well as the beautiful parts of you that he is so drawn to, and if you hide it from him, that would only create a rift in your budding relationship that you aren't entirely too keen on creating.

you want him to know you, all of you, and these scars are as much of a part of you as the bones in your body and the blood pumping through your skin.

they're a sign of what you've been through, what you've overcome, and who you are now. they're important, and choso should know why they are there.

"that's a good question," you sigh, putting your skirt on the bed as you move to sit next to him at the edge of it. choso immediately turns to you, glancing over the marks shamelessly now that he has a better view of them.

"did someone do that to you?" is the first thought that crosses his mind, red drifting into his vision at the mere idea that someone has hurt you in such an intimate way.

"...no," you shake your head, lifting one leg up onto the bed, brushing his own, as the other dangles. "i put them there. a while ago," you explain honestly.

choso scrunches his brows tighter, eyes flickering up to your face then back down to try to identify what exactly the marks are. "what are they?" he repeats.

you exhale, puckering your lips as you prepare yourself for this difficult conversation. "they're burns, cho. from a match," you tell him.

now, the half-curse is incredibly confused. burn marks? on your lovely skin? in a place where only you could reach? put there by yourself?

you burned yourself?

"i don't understand," he frowns, shifting to face you better. "why would you..."

"i used to be in a really bad place, baby," you purse your lips, watching as his face contorts with consternation as he comes to understand that you purposefully harmed yourself.

"what do you mean? bad enough to do this to yourself?" he sounds mortified, his voice growing ragged the moment his tone picks up volume.

his pupils, moments ago blown pools of affection, are now shrunken dots of shock.

"don't look at me like that," you beg him, placing your hand over his own. his eyes snap to the sudden contact, then back to you with concern. "sometimes, when certain people are suffering from depression, or anxiety, or just overall bad thoughts and they feel like they have to... break out, or maybe punish themselves in a sense... they resort to hurting themselves."

choso gulps, lump forming in his throat as he listens to you with shaking eyes. "and that's what you did? you felt like you needed to punish yourself?"

"it's hard to explain to someone on the outside. i know it sounds... crazy, but it was the only way i knew how to cope with everything that i was dealing with."

"why didn't you come to me instead?" he immediately asks and you give him a sad, knowing look.

"because, we didn't know each other then, cho?"

"i don't care," he shakes his head, eyes keeping yours. "you should have found me."

the idea brings a hint of a smile to your lips, choso's sweetness warming your heart. "i didn't know who you were, baby, that would have been like begging a stranger for help."

"so?" he scoffs. "i loved you the moment i met you. it wouldn't have made any difference to me.

you sigh again, bringing your other hand to rest over top of your boyfriend's as you smile softly at him in an attempt to get him to calm down.

the panic is still written all over his face as he takes in your smile, the vision somehow only making him sadder. you're so gorgeous, inside and out, and that smile is only scratching the surface of your unending beauty.

to know now that your radiance was once outweighed by the torment in your mind encouraging you to harm yourself... well, it makes choso want to ball his eyes out. it makes him want to confront the physical manifestation of your past traumas and pummel it into the ground, bashing its head in for all the hurt that it has caused you.

"i ended up just fine, cho," you reassure him.

"why didn't you say anything before? were you trying to keep it from me?"

"no, baby, i just didn't think to tell you. i kinda forgot about them," you say, and that comment alone makes choso soften his features slightly.

"you forgot..." he recites your words. "does that mean you're better now?"

you hum in affirmation, smiling warmly. "it's been a while since i've hurt myself or done anything like that. i got through it. i'm okay now, these scars are just a permanent reminder of the past."

his frame sags slightly with relief, brows lifting as he looks over you with a blank expression. "i think i understand," he mumbles, looking back down at the marks. "i'm sorry you ever had to go through any of that."

"it's not your fault. you weren't there."

"i wish i had been. so i could have helped more. i know you said you're better, but maybe if i had been there i could've stopped you from hurting yourself at all."

"i wouldn't put that responsibility onto yourself, cho. it was my responsibility."

"still," his brows arch slightly. "i would have stuck with you every second of every day to make sure that you never had a second alone to do any of it. i wouldn't have let you, and i won't let you now." a thought seems to pop into his head when he finishes his last sentence. "you wouldn't go back to trying to hurt yourself, (y/n), would you?

you exhale. "i mean, i'd like to think i wouldn't, but sometimes these things aren't linear," you admit. "i just know that for now, i'm okay."

"the second you're not, though, you'd tell me?"

"yes. i would."

"you promise?"

"i promise, baby."

"okay," he sighs. "because i don't think i'd be able to function knowing you're upset."

the brown haired man leans over, carefully holding your thigh as he looks over your marks again, no longer flustered by your bare skin but entirely focused on the severity of your burns. you look down at him, hands slipping from his own as he surveys you closely like he's a doctor.

"they don't hurt anymore, do they?"

"nope. just scarred."

choso looks at you for a bit longer in silence before looking back up at you from his hunched state. "can i kiss them?"

you laugh softly, hand falling into his hair at you gaze at him with your heart aglow. "you want to kiss them?"

he nods. "so they can feel loved."

you coo, thumb smoothing over his temple as his eyes swell with adoration right before you. "of course you can."

toji fushiguro: toji is absolutely no stranger to scars. he's a human man with no cursed energy, having had his fair share of close calls on risky jobs that have left him with slashes over his calves, small pierces in his flesh, and cracked callouses. then, of course, there's the scar on his mouth bestowed upon him by his oh-so-loving family, which will be stuck with for the rest of his life.

scars follow toji like moths follow a flame, and he's numb to it. he believes that they are a part of life, both physically and mentally, especially with the kind of life that he leads. whether the wound is a large one or a small one he can barely see, he accepts scars as a part of who he is-

who he is.

while toji likes to parade around with a hardened exterior decorated with faded, scabbing wounds, that is something he deems fit for him and him only. he doesn't care what other people do with their lives as long as they leave him the hell out of it, but for the love of all the money that he has acquired over the years slaughtering sorcerers, he will be damned if he finds a single, tiny little scratch on your body.

scars are for toji, not for you, his darling little girlfriend and the day he finds out someone has hurt you enough to leave behind a mark is the day he's putting several bullets into the culprit's head.

toji's worst fear, though he hardly discusses it, is losing you and watching you get hurt. god, he practically lives to protect you, and to feel as though he has failed to do so would wound him detrimentally. he's a tough guy, but you make him so soft, and admittedly he wouldn't want to be soft for anyone but you. you're his rock, his little hot head, and he loves you more than life itself.

if you're hurt, he will lose it.

therefore, when he finds out that you're self-harming? oh, he's on the verge of losing his fucking mind.

he does a double-take when you step out of his room and into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your body, his eyes widening and his brows arching immediately.

now, toji knows your body inside and out. he's explored every inch, he knows every crook, every crevice, every mark, every texture, and he has never once in the six months you have been together seen the red lines over your inner wrist.

he watches you with twisted lips as you grab an orange from the counter before walking back into his direction. you're almost back into the room when toji calls you.

"uh uh," he stops you, and you pause, turning over your shoulder and purposefully moving your left wrist to press into your towel.

"what?"

"come here," he orders and you give him a strange look.

"why?"

"i wanna see somethin'. come here."

you're quick to snap back easily with your own sarcastic retort, clearly in a foul mood over something. "if you want to fuck, can you wait until i'm fully dried off and after i finish this?' you hold up the orange in your other hand, a perturbed look on your face.

"i don't want to fuck, (y/n), i want you to come here."

toji's voice comes out sternly, and on the verge of anger. you survey his posture, his arms leaning over his legs as he cranes to look at you with a suspicious, firm expression. you can tell that he's serious, and a sudden sense of fear overtakes you that you mask with annoyance.

you don't say a word when you slowly walk up to him, crossing your arms over your chest to conceal your wrist, the hand holding the orange tucked under your elbow.

"what is it?"

toji holds out his palm. "give it."

"...my orange?"

"put it in my hand."

you huff, carefully maneuvering your arm around to keep your inner wrist pointed toward your body as you bring forward the orange and plop it aggressively into his hand. toji watches your other arm the entire time, taking clear note of how you refuse to let your wrist show, and you know you're fucked.

the green-eyed man tosses the orange to the side of the couch and holds out his large palm again, eying you intensely. you look down at him with a frustrated frown, shrugging. "i don't have anymore oranges."

"don't be cute, doll."

"what? do you want my hand?"

"you know i want your hand."

you roll your eyes, raising the hand you had held your orange with when he stops you. "not that one. the other one."

your heart pangs, shaking your entire body as he looks to you expectantly. how the fuck had he managed to notice the scar on your wrist so quickly?

the moment you hesitate, he knows that what he saw earlier is something to be concerned about. you normally never hide yourself from toji, and the way you go about hiding your arm now is defensive enough to raise several brows. he knows you're not dumb, too. he knows that you know exactly what he wants to see.

"(y/n)." he cocks a brow, the severity of his demeanor only making you more uneasy.

he can't see. he can't see what you've just done. he'll hate you. he'll look at you like you're crazy.

"what if i don't want to give you my hand?"

"then i'll just grab it for you, and i don't think either of us wants to go there."

you release a trembling, aggravated breath. you can't get away with anything when toji's around, and while you ponder having chosen to get an orange later, you know deep down somewhere you wanted toji to see. you wanted him to help you, which is why you walked out of that bathroom half an hour after having put those scars on your arm.

"hand, now."

you turn your eyes away with a grunt, slapping your wrist into his hand facing downward. toji is quick to whip it upside once he has a grip on you, and his eyes seem to freeze over the sight of three fresh slices on your upper forearm up close.

his jaw clenches, then unclenches, then clenches and unclenches again as his lips twitch and his eyes adjust to the vision. you're hurt. not only are you hurt, but it looks as though you've recently been hurt. you've hurt yourself.

toji has a hard time figuring out what to do. he's not good with things like this, but he knows that seeing you with scars on your arm is quite literally about to set him off. he always imagined having to defend you from others who seek to hurt you, but never having to defend you from yourself.

he can't fathom it. he's struggling, the muscles in his eyes are twitching, and he can't handle it. he can feel his heart begin to race, unsure if he is angry or scared or mortified or devastated.

there are three lines in your arm. bright red. staring right back up at him.

and you put them there?

no way, you put them there.

but you did. clearly you did, or else you wouldn't be looking so guilty right now.

but when did you? how did you? why did you?

he doesn't know what to think. he doesn't know what to say. he swore he'd always protect you, but how does he even begin to try to protect you from yourself?

"are you out of your mind?"

the question leaves him rather calmly, a low inquiry that you are unsure is meant to be directed as an insult or a genuine ask.

you can't look at him. you don't even know what to think yourself. it had all happened so fast while you were in the bathroom, before you got into the shower.

one minute, you were staring angrily in the mirror, cursing your reflection as your wicked thoughts sprouted grubby arms and guided you toward the pair of brow scissors that you kept in your makeup cabinet on the left side of toji's bathroom.

you wanted to feel in control of the disdain you felt lurking within your soul. you wanted to feel something for fear that you would never be able to feel again, and before you knew it, you were dragging the exposed blade over your skin.

"d'you wanna explain why i'm looking at these cuts on your arm, (y/n)?"

and you know, you know that it's a bad sign when toji uses your name instead of the plethora of pet names he normally elects to call you: doll, princess, mama, girl, pretty baby- anything but your actual government name, and when you hear it roll from his tongue under these circumstances, you can only imagine what's going through his head.

you shift on your bare feet, looking down at your toes. "dunno," is all you say, and toji scoffs in disbelief.

"you don't know?" he emphasizes. "that's all you have to say?"

"if you wanna embarrass me, go ahead, toji. seriously, i'm tired."

"what the fuck makes you think i wanna embarrass you? i wanna know why the fuck my girlfriend walked out of the bathroom with cuts on her arm!"

you rip your arm away immediately when he yells, storming back off into his room and slamming the door behind you.

toji jumps up, suddenly frazzled. he doesn't want you alone in there. he doesn't want you out of his sight.

the navy haired man moves quickly to his door and grabs the handle, only to find it locked. he jiggles it harshly and bangs on the door. beginning to panic. "open the door, (y/n)," he shouts, meeting no reply.

little does he know, your back is pressed against the other side as tears crash over your cheeks. you don't know how you expected toji to react, but the look on his face just now and his tone of voice was enough to send you running off.

you feel ashamed, weak. you shouldn't have gone out there at all. you should have waited until you were dressed, discarding the whole idea of letting toji see what you did so that you could suffer in silence without his help, because what help could he truly provide anyway?

toji's a tough man, but he's soft for you. he would stand in front of a moving train for you. he would sacrifice his life for you, so when you don't answer, he imagines the worst.

"open the door," he says again, weaker, tugging desperately at the handle though he knows it won't budge. he knows he could break the door down, and he's prepared to until he hears you sniff amdist his pounding. he immediately stops, face dropping.

fuck.

this is bad.

he knew it was before, but for some reason, it's only now registering how bad this is.

you're in pain. you hurt yourself because you're in pain and you need him, but he doesn't know how to help you. he's never dealt with anything like this before.

his hand slides from the door and to his side, forehead knocking against the door though his other hand remains tight on the handle. he just needs to see you.

"princess," he mutters defeatedly. "don't make me kick this door in."

silence.

"please," he softens even more. "please, (y/n), let me in."

the house falls quiet once more and you give in. you feel so lost, and the only person who can at least comfort you, in his own way, is toji.

you slowly turn to unlock the door and step back as toji opens it swiftly, staring down at you with wide eyes and at least relieved to see that you haven’t done any further harm to your body.

he does, however, see your tears.

his face tightens as he bends down to scoop you up in an instant, your legs and arms tightening around him as you snivel into his shoulder, his large palms sliding over your body. he feels your small body tremble against him as he walks the two of you over to the edge of his bed, sitting down as you cling to him like a koala.

"i dunno what happened," you whimper into him. "i dunno why i did it. i dunno. i dunno."

you say it over and over, your voice as broken as toji feels listening to you.

he wishes he knew what to do. he wishes he was better equipped to handle this, but never in his worst nightmares did he dream that he would find you here, his fiery girl, the love of his life.

he's been so busy trying to protect you from the outside world that he hasn't even thought about the things that could harm you from within.

he stays silent as you babble to him through tears, holding you just like he knew how. he doesn't want to picture those scars on you. he doesn't want to picture what led you to put them there. he just wants to hold you, to at least let you know that he's here and he's not going anywhere. he may not know how to help, but he knows how to love you and he hopes that's enough.

"i'm not letting you out of my sight, y'hear?" he says gruffly into your ear and you nod meekly. "i'm not letting this happen ever again. not as long as i'm alive."

he mentally swears to rid your house and his of any and every sharp object he can find and to throw it all in a safe as you sink into him.

toji knows how to protect and toji knows how to fight. though he's more acclimated with fighting others, if he has to fight to protect yourself from your innermost demons, then hell, he will find a way to do just that.

sukuna ryomen: lord help you and lord help anyone within a fifty-mile radius when the king of curses discovers that you've been harming yourself.

sukuna is not at all very good with his words or his expressions of affirmations. he is a being of action, and he believes that he has proven his love for you enough by simply allowing you to be in his presence longer than anyone else ever has or ever will.

at first, when he sees a scar or two on your leg, he thinks its just an accident or a result of you being clumsy. then, three more pop up, then five, then far more than he's even willing to count, and he decides that this scar pattern is somehow intentional.

he knows no one else has marked them onto you because he is prepared to kill anyone who comes too close, especially if they have ill intentions. if you were in danger at someone else's hand, he would be the first to know and the person meaning you harm would be dead before they could even think about touching you.

therefore, when he sees that the only person normally within your company is him, uraume, and yourself, the process of elimination leads him to you.

he goes about confronting you rather harshly, as well, for he knows no other way to be.

you're out in the garden of his large residence one day, soaking up the sun, when you hear familiar, loud stomps heading your way from behind.

you turn around and squint to peer up at sukuna, who is standing over you with a menacing glare in his crimson eyes. you don't necessarily find this out of the ordinary, so you greet him as usual.

"hi, kuna," you say sweetly. "you good?"

he is not good. not at all, so he gets straight to the point. "come inside, woman."

you quirk a brow. "why? i just got out here?"

"do not question me."

"can it wait, like, fifteen minutes?"

"do you wish to live in the next fifteen minutes?"

you sigh, entirely too used to sukuna's facade of cruelty around you. you know by now that the king of curses would never dare to hurt you.

"i do intend, to live, yes," you smirk.

"then you will come inside as i have demanded."

"no, sukuna. i want to stay out here for a bit. i've been inside all day."

the pink haired man fumes, teeth grinding together in agitation. he doesn't want to delay this conversation any further than it has already been delayed, but of course, you choose to be difficult.

"very well, we will do this out here," he growls and you smile.

"good."

you don't prepare yourself for when sukuna grabs the back of your chair and whips out around to face him with the unpleasant screech of the legs against the cobblestone. you wince, then retract your face when sukuna lowers his to stare at you from mere centimeters away, one of his arms grasping to push up the lose leg of your shorts up to reveal the set of scars littering your skin.

your eyes go wide, his movements too quick for you to process all at once.

"are these your doing?" he hisses and you gulp.

"s-sukuna-"

"i did not ask for you to say my name. i asked if these scars are your doing."

his eyes are piercing, striking directly into yours. "what are you talking about?" you whisper shakily.

"are we going to pretend like you're an idiot now?" he snarls. he's so mean, but he feels it's for good reason. your body has been tainted, and for some reason, you have been doing the tainting. he needs to know why.

you shake your head weakly. "no..."

"then answer me properly. i will not repeat myself a third time."

you bite down on your lower lip, heart ringing in your ears. you didn't even know sukuna paid attention to you enough to catch wind of something like this.

"yes... i did this," you finally tell him, and sukuna is livid.

"and why would you be doing something so foolish? scars are not something you are meant to give yourself, human."

"please don't be a dick, sukuna, not right now."

"i am asking a perfectly reasonable question and i expect you to answer it," he glowers. "now."

"you wouldn't understand if i told you," you frown and he clicks his tongue.

"stop assuming things of me before i lock you inside of my room where you can not escape or even fathom doing something like this to yourself again under my supervision."

you curl your brows, frowning up at your boyfriend. "if i tell you, you'll call me foolish."

"because this is foolish," he grunts. "but i will not if my doing so will get you to fucking explain yourself."

you shake your head, looking down and contemplating before deciding to just get it over with so that he can stop putting you on the spot. "sometimes i just feel shitty," is all you elect to say.

but sukuna is hardly satisfied with this response. "so you choose to inflict pain upon yourself instead of calling upon me?"

"i told you, you wouldn't understand," you say. "it's not something i can easily explain to you either."

sukuna narrows his eyes. "fine."

he lowers himself to grab you legs and throw you over his shoulder. you squeal, grabbing onto his back as he begins to walk you back into his home and toward his room. "sukuna!" you kick your legs around. "put me down!"

"no. you're coming with me, and you're going to sit and talk me through every single thought that has crossed your little mind to make you think that injuring yourself in such a way is tolerable within the walls of my residence. then after that, you'll come with me everywhere i go from this point on."

"what?!" you exclaim from where you hang upside down. "I don't wanna go everywhere you go," you wine.

"too bad. you should have thought of that before you decided to harm yourself."

sukuna is horrible with words, and far more horrible with expressing his concerns, but despite your temporary discomfort with how he goes about approaching the situation, you can still see in the pinch of his brow and the stiffness of his posture, combined with his refusal to let you go without a proper explanation, that he cares very deeply for your wellbeing.

[chiscaralight]

do u perchance fw hybrids.. if so..

wolf hybrid scara x bunny hybrid reader during mating season?

idk the thought of wolf scara being absolutely feral and set on giving reader cubs while reader is whining under him and protesting that she wants bunny kits instead just.. wooh

ignore if this isnt your cup of tea! (i love ur work btw)

i love hybrids😭 writing this now is making me feel guilty cus there’s like 3 omegaverse requests i’ve been sitting on for far too long. omegaverse anon don’t hate me pls i’ll finish it soon. and thank u!!

nsfw wolf!scara x bunny!reader, breeding,

“n-no! i want b-ah! i want kits!”

scaramouche’s grip on your forearms releases as he rolls his eyes. you whine as you fall face first in the sheets, then yelp because of the way his sharp nails dig into your hips.

"if you want to be difficult, then be difficult. I'm the one that's going to breed you and I'm the one that'll stand beside you when you birth my cubs."

your response is unintelligible through the fabric of the sheets. dumb bunny, you think he'll hear you like that? but he's your mate, so at the very least, he'll hear you out. by flipping you over!

and when his ars push your legs up, knees almost touching the bed when he slides back into you. your eyes are about to make serious contact with the back of your skull, literally teetering on the brink of life and death from how good he's slamming into you. he can't help but laugh. you were so talkative before, what's the problem now? and when you can finally muster enough energy to speak the only word you can get out is:

"b-bunnies.."

and best believe that it pisses him off. because he's sitting up, strong scowl on his face as he slides fingers into that big mouth of yours. there's no use arguing with you, you're just as difficult as him in this situation. so he'll just show you that he was right, he always knows what he's talking about, yeah? he'll be so sure of this.

it's why when he feels his cock throbbing heavy, he frees up both his hands to angle your hips up. you're crying, fingers grasping at anything they can hold as he ruthlessly fucks his orgasm into you. he's harsh, determined to fill you to the brim with his pups, just like he told you he would.

he doesn't stop until every last drop is you, grinding against your cunt as you come down from your peak. but he's just being nice now. because in no time he's picking his speed back up. it's not even out of anger or anything! he loves you, but you'll be so sad when he finally shatters your dreams of having bunny kits.

[sunderwight]

SV AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates into a dragon.

It's not so bad, at first. He's an extremely magical sort of dragon so he can easily take on a humanoid shape, and he has dominion over an entire mountain, with a magical gate that leads to his palace. Said palace has a fully stocked treasury, a library, garden, etc, with the only real downsides being that the place is kind of huge and very difficult for a neet with limited housekeeping or landscaping skills to keep up with. The original dragon had enslaved a bunch of fairy spirits to do it for him, but since Shen Yuan has moral objections to that, he'd let them all go and they'd run off before he could even think to offer to hire any of them as paid employees instead. Not that he can blame them for being in a hurry to get gone.

He does his best, and generally enjoys being a dragon lazing on his mountain, or wandering the beauty of his palace and investigating the books and scrolls kept there. He doesn't actually seem to need to eat or drink, so that's not really an issue, and nobody looks keen to bother him. But after a few months the dust starts to really pile up, and trying to figure out how to do his own laundry without modern equipment leads to several disasters, and even though he doesn't need to eat he's starting to think it would be quite nice to have a fancy sit-down dinner and enjoy it for its own sake anyway. He has an enchanted larder but his food prep skills aren't up to much.

So, Shen Yuan ventures away from his mountain. He keeps to his human disguise when he's not traveling, and at first tries to hire on some help from a nearby city. But when he explains that he lives on the mountain, he realizes the difficulty, because everyone in the area knows that only the dragon lives there. So they all think he's either a liar or a fraud, or some servant of a nefarious supernatural creature angling to trick and possibly devour them.

Shen Yuan tries approaching another town in his dragon form, to see if anyone will actually deal with him if he's being upfront and honest about the situation, but the townspeople just panic. He returns to his mountain to rethink his strategies, and in the meanwhile the alarmed locals hire a swordsman to go after him. The guy gives him a few very painful cuts before Shen Yuan mostly-accidentally sends him careening into a boulder. One broken arm later the swordsman is gently persuaded that the pay he was offered isn't worth the effort on this job, and leaves.

Discouraged, Shen Yuan decides he's gonna give this one last try. He picks the second closest city, flies up, and is like yes hello, yes I am indeed a dragon, no I'm not trying to burn down your walls, yes it would be excellent if you stopped shooting arrows at me, look they don't even get past the scales? It's kind of silly? Okay, yes, thank you very much. Good. Now, the thing is, I'm looking for some people. I want to take them back to my mountain with me, to my incredibly nice palace, and -- what was that? A princess? No no I don't want a princess, what would I even do with one? If anything I'm looking for the complete opposite of a princess!

Anyway, the locals take this to mean that the dragon is demanding a sacrifice in the form of a pretty boy of no particular pedigree, and Shen Yuan takes this to mean that he's finally made his case clear and they're going to dig up someone who is willing to overlook his being a dragon in exchange for free room and board and fair wages out of his massive treasury.

SY's a bit disheartened when the entire city could only apparently turn up one such person -- an underfed teenage boy who looks at Shen Yuan like, despite the situation, he is still expecting to be eaten at any moment. Poor thing! But at least having one servant means he can potentially get more, especially if it all goes well. The lad can tell others that working for a dragon isn't so bad! Well, provided that he doesn't give up in alarm at the state of the mountain palace.

For his part, Luo Binghe at first thinks he's definitely going to get eaten, and then that this dragon is weirdly nice about planning to eat him, and then that maybe the dragon has other (even less savory!) plans for him, until finally he sees the state of the dragon's laundry and the foot-thick layer of dust in the corners, and gets completely distracted. Mortal terror forgotten, those floors should not be that filthy, Lord Dragon respectfully that isn't how anyone should prepare rice either, but oh Binghe has never seen a kitchen so nice before in his life...!

Anyway, needless to say, it works out just fine.

[angeliicheartt]

omg ily!!! congrats bb <3

🐬 "ᴘᴜʟʟ ʜɪᴍ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀᴛ!" — send a dialogue prompt and a character and i'll write a blurb!

“stop looking at me like that” “like what?”

withhhhh ummmm shoto :3 (sorry i literally love him sm whehehjejejejjw)

ꜱᴛᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ

includes: shoto todoroki

fem!reader

a/n: i was determined to finish this, lmk how the tension is!! i was trying to focus on that. anyways have this to makeup for not posting anything but yapping today

2k wc.

shoto has a staring problem.

a staring at you problem. that’s what you’ve come to believe over the past week.

he just couldn’t believe how perfect you looked. he could care less how your hair looks today, or whether you have any makeup on or not, shoto believed your very being was perfect. his eyes raked over your features, his gaze almost affectionate. he watches as you write something that present mic said, completely ignoring the very loud man, opting to watch you write down your notes instead. he somehow hasn’t noticed your eyes darting to the side to look at him, trying to figure out why shoto has been staring at you for a good five minutes.

his heterochromic eyes never leave your face as you attempt to listen to present mic’s lesson, which shouldn’t be that hard with how loud he is right? wrong. it’s actually kind of difficult to do when one of class 1A’s finest guys is staring at you in class.

you tilt your head slightly to face him, raising an eyebrow, which catches his attention. you watch as the tips of his ears redden, causing you to suppress a smile.

“you okay?” you whisper, looking around to see if present mic was paying attention to you two, he wasn’t. shoto’s eyes strike yours as they flick to make eye contact. at first, he just stares at you, his lips parted before he blinks once, twice. his eyes dart away from yours, back to his desk as his hand comes to rest on his neck and you can just barely hear him mutter a small “yeah.”

he only peeks at you a few more times during the rest of the class period, and the rest of the day in fact. you retire to the dorms as classes get out, the majority of class A piling into the living room for some quality time. you settle on one of the smaller couches, your back against the arm rest as everyone finds a spot. And when everyone’s settled, you realize the only other person on this couch was shoto.

and he starts staring again.

and you truly don’t mind him staring, it just becomes unnerving when it seems like you’re the only one he’s even trying to pay attention to, like he’s just naturally tuning everything out but you. his head is rested in his palm as his arm props himself up, his torso and face turned towards you, like a sunflower to the sun.

and due to your position on the couch, anytime you angle your head forward, you meet his strangely soft gaze, his eyes studying every minute (extremely small) detail on your face. you feel your cheeks heat up under his watch before you feel mina draping across the back of the couch, her face propped up in her arms as they balance on the back cushions.

“what’s with that face, todoroki?” she asks, a small smirk on her lips as she follows shoto’s gaze to you before he rips his eyes away from you to respond to the pink girl.

“what face?” todoroki sincerely asks, his eyebrows pinched in confusion as his head tilts in the same manner, causing mina and her smirk deflate. she sighs dramatically, her eyes rolling as she straightens herself upright. you catch her eyes and you can feel your cheeks heat again as she winks at you.

“oh nothinggg..” she drags out as she grins cheekily before toddling off towards kaminari and kirishima.

your eyes track her as she walks off before looking forward once more, and once again meeting shoto’s gaze. you feel shy under his gaze, it seems scrutinizing, but if you really look, he’s only studying you, memorizing the way you are.

“do you wanna go outside?” you blurt out, “i mean.. like.. on one of our balconies?” you clarify, your fingers picking at eachother as you wait for his response, and after what feels like forever he nods, a small smile gracing his face. you feel the couch dip as he gets up, offering you a hand. you place your hand in his, his hand warm to the touch as it closes around yours. you use shoto to pull yourself up before heading out of the living area.

the two of you manage to sneak away from the rest of the class before drawing too much attention to yourselves and as the two of you successfully get away, you turn to shoto.

“which dorm are we going to?” you ask, watching as he turns to look at you, his eyebrows furrowing in thought before they relax again, “we can go to mine.”

you nod as the two of you turn to the elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor when it arrives. you lean against the back wall, your hands resting behind you on the handle bar. you can feel shoto’s gaze on you again, only this time he’s at least trying to be discreet, maybe mina’s comment threw him off.

you feel the elevator rumble as it arrives at the 5th floor, the bell dinging as the doors open, allowing you and shoto out. the two of you make it to his room in less than a minute, and when you arrive shoto opens the door, holding it open for you as well.

you slip between him and the wall into his room, admiring the traditional design of it all. sure, you saw it when all of class A did their room tours, but you could really admire it now. he watched as you examined his room, your eyes darting from one thing to another. he lets out a soft chuckle at your antics as he crosses the room to the balcony door, sliding it open as he looks back at you.

“are you coming?” he asks, and he could not seem more princely. the wind blows in through the cracked sliding door, hitting shoto’s hair just right, the little quirk of his lips not helping anything. mina’s comment was just putting thoughts in your head, right?

“y/n?” shoto’s eyebrow raised at your lack of response, which left you flustered. you nod as you hurry your feet over to the door. shoto’s eyebrows relax once again as you hurry over to him, holding open the sliding door for you as if it would shut if he wasn’t.

you graciously step through the doorway, instantly sighing as you feel the humid air, the lower temperatures of the evening allowing you to actually enjoy the summer heat. you hear shoto step outside as well, shutting the sliding door behind him. you cast a brief glance over your shoulder before moving to lean against the railing.

“you probably shouldn’t do that.” he says as he approaches the railing to the left of you, causing you to turn your head.

“how come?” you ask, an eyebrow raising as you show no hint of moving.

“if it breaks you could fall.” he says, his own arms moving to rest against the very same railing. you scoff at his action, causing his lips to quirk up again.

“as if you wouldn’t save me,” you quip and you actually pull a soft chuckle out of the boy beside you, causing your own smile to form.

shoto’s eyes practically light up at the sight of your smile, his cheeks warming as he props his arms against the railing properly, so that he’s able to admire you like he wants to. your smile softens as you meet his gaze, however you still hide half your face behind your hunched shoulder. but shoto doesn’t mind, he could stare at just your hand for hours, admiring each freckle or mole, each vein and hangnail.

and the look on his face and in his eyes is the same as earlier, an adoring, earnest, affectionate look, and you couldn’t fathom it.

“stop looking at me like that,” you sigh, your hands resuming their skin-picking activities. You could practically hear shoto’s confusion, you glance at him and see his eyebrows furrowed in your direction, and you almost wish you hadn’t looked.

“like what?” he asks, and you almost laugh, as if he doesn’t realize how he stares at you, like you hung the sun, the moon, and the stars, like you were his only joy, like you were his sun.

you settle for a scoff as your hand rubs at your eye. your eyebrows furrow as you try and figure out a way to explain to this clueless boy how flustered he makes you feel with a look. you sigh as you straighten yourself up, if only slightly.

“you look at me like you know me, like you’ve seen into my very being and accept all of it, like i could do no wrong, like.. like you're in love with me or something..” you spout, your cheeks heating up as you explain, though you have nothing to embarrassed of.

“oh.” is all shoto says, his voice monotone as it usually is, but it seemed almost tainted by dejection. the change in voice causes you to look over at him, you head turning as you see him staring at the ground, his cheeks practically on fire.

“you want me to stop? so.. i made you uncomfortable, im sorry.” shoto says, and his voice sounds almost pained and you can see his hands tightening into fists as they rest against the railing.

“i didn’t mean it like that!” you exclaim, your hand grabbing the railing dangerously close to his tightening fists. “truly, it honestly just confuses me..” you say as you relax once more, seeing shoto’s fists relax.

“please tell me,” shoto says, and his tone almost sounded like a beg. your cheeks heat up as he parts from the railing, causing you to turn and when you do you realize how close he is, only he’s now facing you straight on, and you can’t hide from his gaze. “i want to understand you.”

you sigh, your eyes darting to your side before you look back to him, avoiding looking into his eyes as you speak.

“you may not know this, but you’re one of the best looking guys in our class, and honestly all of UA, and it just threw me off. the way you looked at me, like i was special, just.. baffled me.” you say. your eyes finally meet his again, and you can see confusion swirling in them, his eyebrows creased in the same manner. your foot digs into the hard concrete of the balcony and your hand scrubs at your face, embarrassed by your sudden confession and shoto’s prolonged silence.

“ugh, nevermind, forget i said anything,” you rush out as you try to side step the two-toned boy, only getting a few paces past him before his voice stops you.

“but..” you turn to look at him, and he turns to face you, his eyebrows still furrowed in confusion. “you are special.”

your lips part but no sound comes out as you stare into his eyes, your own brows pinched with emotion. the way he said it so surely, as if it was utterly absurd to even entertain the thought of you not being special.

“really?” you ask, and you wince as you hear yourself, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself from asking. it was reactive, your subconscious craving your deserved praise.

shoto nods, his lips quirking into a soft smile. And you return his smile, your eyes are a little watery, but the lowlight coming from shoto’s dorm helps you disguise that.

“do you.. want a hug?” he offers, unsure if it’s what you need in the moment but you jump at the opportunity. you wrap your arms around his waist, giggling as his arms hesitant before wrapping around your shoulders.

“is this okay..?” he murmurs into your hair and you fight back a grin as you nod, “yeah, it’s perfect.”

the two of you untangle your arms from eachother, but as you do you hear mina’s distinctive gasp. turning you see her on sero’s balcony, staring wide eyed at the two of you.

“i called it! sero! come out here!” mina yells before sero shushes her, causing her to whine as she gets dragged back into his dorm and sending an apologetic look to the two of you.

once he closes the door once again, you turn back to shoto, and as he mirrors your action the two of you burst into a small fit of giggles.

maybe his staring wasn’t so bad.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @satelitis @kozumesphone

[lcriedlastnight]

first couple of dates reader is super reserved and shy and Lando is just unabashedly flirting in the most attractive way ever

tysm anon, my first lando request! ilysm <3 also shy reader resonates so well with me for some reason.

tw: fem!reader, swears, not spell checked, lmk if anything else.

w/c: 1.8k

you found out on the first date how confident in himself lando was. you knew (and liked) how he was just unapologetically himself at every point in time. it was definitely a green flag of yours. only sometimes it was a little much to handle.

this next date lando had been very traditional, seeing as it was your second date. he had decided to take you to one of his favourite restaurants in monaco. he left you with very strict instructions over text, the day before, to dress as fancy as you possibly could. so you did just that and went last minute dress shopping with your friend. it all being her idea of course.

she finds this lovely blush pink dress that in her words “is just so you” so you get it and wear it to dinner.

lando was already at the restaurant waiting outside for you. he had offered to pick you up but your friend wanted to stay and help you get ready, you didn’t agree easily though. you’ve never seen anyone’s mouth drop open as quickly as you seen lando’s open when you got out of your friend’s car. this, obviously, brings a bright red blush to your cheeks, complimenting the dress even more in lando’s opinion.

“hi.” you mumble, shyly. not used to a gaze as piercing as lando’s.

“hey, pretty girl! don’t you look stunning?” lando grins happily as he addresses you with such lovely pet names with such ease it makes you melt. he sticks a hand out to link it with yours then holds them both high above your head. “give me a spin then, honey.”

you do as he asks and spin around, showing him every angle. when you face lando again his smile seems to be even bigger than when you first came, if that was even possible. it looked like it was sore with how hard he was smiling.

“god, now i feel underdressed. when i said fancy i didn’t mean princess of monaco fancy!” lando jokes. you know it’s a joke, a compliment even. a lovely, sweet compliment. and if you were a normal girl, you would’ve giggled sweetly and thanked him, then you would both be on your way to sit down. but you weren’t a ‘normal’ girl. you were a bit shyer than most. so instead you avoid eye contact with lando and splutter out what could be picked together to make some sort of thank you.

even though it’s the second date, lando seems to understand you already and instead of pointing out your embarrassment, he pushes it to the side and holds his arm out for you to hold.

“c’mon, let’s go inside. you must be starving. i heard that beauty makes you hungry.” you were not surviving this. where was this lando on the first date?

the waiter helps you both find your table, which of course has the most gorgeous view of the water. you sit across from each other and sit in a comfortable silence, scanning the menu’s. your eyes dart across, reading all these dishes, none of them too fancy. another thing for you to be shy about, was the fact that you were an extremely picky eater. you were very wary of restaurant or even food related dates to begin with, but lando is a very difficult person to say no to.

“d’you know what’re getting?” lando asks from across the table. you think he’s been staring at you for a while.

“i’m not sure yet.” you reply, a little quieter than lando, still loud enough to hear over the usual bustle of a restaurant. you tell him this in the hopes he doesn’t ask about your food preferences.

it’s like lando can read your mind though as he asks. “are you alright? do you not like any of the food? we can go somewhere else if you like?” the way he switches from flirty to caring in seconds makes your head spin.

“no! no. you went through all this trouble to come here. and it’s your favourite restaurant.” you refuse his sweet offers.

“so you don’t like any of the food? are you a picky eater?” lando asks, the smile returning to his almost as quickly as it left. his voice not menacing or teasing as he asks you the dreaded question.

you can feel your body heat up at the question, and before you can even try and scramble your brain for an answer, probably denying it lando speaks up.

“if you are it’s okay, honey. i can ask the waiter for anything you want. even if i wasn’t a regular here, i’m sure they would do it for a girl as pretty as you.” and he was right back into that flirty ways from before.

“right,” you nod, purposefully ignoring his compliment. “thank you. i know it’s childish but i only really eat chicken.” you try to joke about it but it comes out awkward and forced. lando laughs anyway.

you both make small talk until with waiter comes back to take your orders. lando doesn’t even give you a chance to speak to the waiter to try and explain yourself before he’s asking if you could get some chicken nuggets and fries. the waiter nods, like it’s no problem. because it isn’t.

“and to drink?” the waiter asks.

lando shifts his gaze to you. his eyes wandering yours, wondering if you were alright to speak to the waiter and order for yourself.

“d’you like wine too, honey? or we could just have water?” lando offers, trying to help you out, which you appreciate so much.

“water is good, please.” you ask politely.

“two glasses of water of us then!” lando tells the waiter as the menu’s are collected and the orders are given to the kitchen.

you wait until you know the waiter is gone before you speak to lando.

“you didn’t need to get water if you didn’t want to. you could’ve gotten wine.” your thumbs dance with each other on top of the table. lando’s reach across to pull them apart from each other and hold them in his own, thumbs swiping gently across your soft skin.

“i know. i just wanted to get what you got. makes you like me more if we like the same things.” lando teases. you laugh a little and it looks like someone has just told lando he’s won his first championship.

“i’m thinking of becoming a comedian. i’m going to quit racing.” he tells you. the conversation switch gives you whiplash.

“what, really? why? i don’t think you should quit. you’re really good.” you try to compliment him back. the boy’s cheesy grin is the greatest payment for that moment of bravery.

“i’m gonna quit so i can make you laugh every minute of every day because your laugh is my new favourite sound in the whole world.” how does he even think of this shit, you think to yourself, through a wide smile and rosy cheeks (once again.)

you both chat away throughout the dinner. lando sending about a million and a half flirty comments and pet names throughout, each one sending you into a tizzy every time. lando just watches your cheeks warm and that shy smile grace your lips.

once you both had ate and payed the bill, lando suggests just walking around for a while.

“basic, i know. i don’t think any date idea could compare to how wonderful you are.” he sighs, jokingly as if his idea actually pained him. of course this causes you to fluster again and hide your face.

lando only laughs and grabs your hand, taking you a walk along the water. you open up to him, more than the previous dates and late night texts. the boy is quiet as you talk, telling him about your childhood and what it was like for you growing up. he asks you questions seeing the way yours eyes twinkle underneath the stars as you perk up even more at the mention of your childhood dog.

“you’re so pretty, honey.” lando admits in a hushed whisper, like it was a secret he was scared to tell and not a sentence he’s said about a hundred times tonight. you both had stopped at a nearby bench to watch the ocean.

before you can even get the chance to get embarrassed he asks “can i kiss you? please?”. and he sounds desperate, like you’re depriving him of the air he needs so badly to breathe properly.

so you nod your head shyly. lando’s hands are quick to trap your head in between them, holding you still as he leans in. this is yours and lando’s first kiss together and lando kisses you like you’ll break if he touches you any harsher. it’s the sweetest thing a boy has ever done in your entire life.

you tell him so once he’s reluctantly pulled away from you. his brows raise in surprise.

“guess i’m just gonna need to top this every date we go on then.” he leans in again because there’s no way he’s not using his free time with you now not kissing you. plus he just loves to see you flustered every time he pulls away.

and that was only the second date.

by the fifth date you had just about gotten your embarrassment under wraps when lando invites you to some mclaren event. he tells you it’s fancy dress but not to go dress shopping again as he’s gotten a tie that matches so well with the dress you wore on your second date. your surprised he remembered the exactly colour because when he turns up at you door, the shade match is perfect.

your halfway through the lovely charity event and lando has not stopped touching you the entire night. even when he has to stop to talk to his teammate, oscar or his team principal, andrea, he had his arm wrapped around your waist or resting on the small of your back. the feeling of his hand resting on your back made you feel like you were his.

you don’t talk much compared to lando, who yaps away all night. his number one topic of conversation being you. he talked about how you met to some random couple he’s never seen before. he rambled about how pretty you were to mclaren’s very own ceo, zak brown. you’re cheeks stay red the entire time, zak leaving after about ten minutes because he felt sorry for you and your embarrassment.

“how you doing, honey? you alright?” lando asks as he joins you at the bar. he’s been pulled away and promised you he’s join you in ten minutes. his hands snaking around your waist, their home for the night it seems.

“yeah, oscar and lily are lovely.” you smile at lando. “thank you for inviting me.”

lando beams back at you. “couldn’t do tonight without my girl, could i?”.

“your girl?” you ask shyly.

“if you wanna be” lando tried to ask casual but he genuinely thinks that if you don’t say yes, he would cry himself to sleep for the rest of the year.

you wrap your arms around him and hide in his chest. “my shy girl, hm?” lando mumbles into your hair.

[wombywoo]

Ok! I've finally decided to put together a (somewhat) comprehensive tutorial on my latest art~

Please enjoy this little step-by-step 💁‍♀️

First things first--references!

Now I'm not saying you have to go overboard, but I always find that this is a crucial starting point in any art piece I intend on making. Especially if you're a detail freak like me and want to make it as realistic as possible 🙃

As such, your web browser should look like this at any given point:

Since this is a historical piece, it means hours upon hours of meaningless research just to see what color the socks are, but...again. that isn't, strictly, necessary 😅

Once I've compiled all my lovely ref pics, I usually dump them into a big-ass collage ⬇️

(I will end up not using half of these, alas :'D)

Another reference search for background material, and getting to showcase our models of choice for this occasion~

When picking a reference for an actor or model, the main thing I keep in mind (besides prettiness 🤭) is lighting and orientation. Because I already kinda know what pose I'm gonna go with for this piece, I can look for specific angles that might fit the criteria. I should mention that I am a reference hound, and my current COD actor ref folder looks like this:

Also keep in mind, if you're using a ref that you need to flip, make sure you adjust accordingly. This especially applies to clothing, as certain things like pants zippers and belt buckles can be quite specific ☝️

Now that we've spent countless hours googling, it's time to start with a rough sketch:

It doesn't have to be pretty, folks, just a basic guideline of where you want the figures to be.

The next step is to define it more, and I know this looks like that 'how to draw an owl' meme, but I promise--getting from the loose sketch above to below is not that difficult.

Things to keep in mind are--don't go too in-depth with the details, because things are still subject to change at this point. In terms of making a suitable anatomically-correct sketch, I would suggest lots of studying. This doesn't even have to be things like figure drawing, I genuinely look at people around me for inspiration all the time. Familiarize yourself with the human form, and things like weight, proportions, posing will seem a little more feasible.

It's also important at this stage to consider your composition. Remember to flip the canvas frequently to make sure you're not leaning to one side too often. I'm sure something can be said for the spiral fibonacci stuff, which I don't really try to do on purpose, but I think keeping things like symmetry and balance in mind is a good start ✌️

Next step is just blocking in the figures. Standard. No fuss 👍

Now onto the background!

It's frankly hilarious how many people thought I was *hand-drawing* these maps and stuff 😂😂 I cannot even begin to comprehend how insanely difficult that would be. So yeah, we're just taking the lazy copy and paste way out 🤙

I almost always prepare my backgrounds first, and this is mostly to get a general color scheme off the bat. For collage work, it's really just a matter of trial and error, sticking this here, slapping this there, etc. I like to futz around with different overlay options until I've found a nice arrangement. Advice for this is just--go nuts 🤷‍♀️

Next, I add a few color adjustments. I tend to make at least 2 colors pop in an art piece, and low and behold, they usually tend to be red and blue ❤️💙There's something about warm/cool vibes, idk man..

Now we move on to coloring the figures. This is just a basic block and fill, not really defining any of the details yet.

Next, we add some cursory values. Sloppy airbrush works fine, it'll look better soon I promise 🙏

And now--rendering!

I know a lot of beginner artists are intimidated by rendering, and I can totally understand why. It's just one of those things you have to commit to 💪

I've decided to show a brief process of rendering our dear Johnny's face here:

Starting off, I usually rely on the trusty airbrush just to get some color values going. Note--I've kept my sketch layer on top, but feel free to turn it on and off as you work, so as to not be too bound to the sketch. For now, it's just a guideline.

This next stage may look like a huge jump, but it's really just adding more to the foundation. I try to think of it like putting on make-up in a way~ Adding contours, accentuating highlights. This is also where I start adding in more saturation, especially around areas such as ears, nose and lips. Still a bit fuzzy at this point, but that's why we keep adding to it 💪

A boy has appeared! See--now I've removed most of the line layer, and it holds up on its own. I'll admit that in order to achieve this realistic style, you'll need lots and lots of practice and skill, which shouldn't be discouraging! Just motivate yourself with the prospect of getting to look at pretty men for countless hours 🙆‍♀️

I'll probably do a more in-depth explanation about rendering at some point, but let's keep this rolling~

Moving forward is just a process of adding to the figures bit by bit. I do lean towards filling in each section from top to bottom, but you can feel free to pop around to certain parts that appeal to you more. I almost always do the faces first though, because if they end up sucking, I feel less guilty about scrapping it 😂 But no--I think he's pretty enough to proceed 😚

They're coming together now 🙆‍♀️ Another helpful tip--make sure you reuse color. By that, I mean--try to incorporate various colors throughout your piece, using the eyedropper tool to keep a consistent palette. I try to put in bits of red and blue where I can

Here they are fully rendered! Notice I've made a few subtle changes from the sketch, like adjusting the belt buckles because I made a mistake 😬 Hence why you shouldn't put too much stock in your initial sketch~

The next step is more of a stylistic choice, but I usually go over everything with an outline, typically in a bright color like green. Occasionally, I can just use my initial line layer, but for this, I've made a brand new, cleaner line 👍

And the final step is adjusting the color and adding some text:

Tada!! It's done!

All in all, this took me the better part of a week, but I have a lot of free time, so yeah ✌️

I hope you appreciated that little walkthrough~ I know people have been asking me how I do my art, but the truth is--I usually have no clue how to explain myself 😅 So have this half-assed tutorial~

As a bonus, here is a cute (cursed) image of Johnny without his mustache:

A baby, a literal infant child !!! who put this wee bairn on the front lines ??! 😭

Anyway! peace out ✌️

[tojipie]

shiu x fem!reader x toji

content: (fem reader, heavy smut, soo much praise, filming sex, spitroasting, eiffel tower position, threesome, blowjobs, face fucking, cumming on face, aftercare)

summary: just another day at work ! :) nothing raunchy going on here

“fuck, that’s perfect,” shiu mumbles, crouching to get a better shot of where you and toji meet. 

the man rutting into you takes the note as a compliment, bucking his hips back to slam to the hilt. the guttural moan he draws out of you is nothing short of sinful, earning you a laugh from the cameraman.

“oh, the guys at home are gonna fucking love that,” he chuckles, standing to grab a shot of you laying face down, ass up on the leather couch.

a calloused hand raises your face to the camera, squeezing your cheeks into a pucker. you smile, taking note of your fucked out demeanor in the camera reflection. 

“feel good, pretty girl?” toji asks, still gripping your face. 

“mmhm,” you groan, making a show of rolling your eyes back into your head. 

the cameraman looks more than pleased, palming himself over his cheap dress pants. 

“such a treat to have in the studio, y’know that?” he wipes a mascara-filled tear while you look up at him for a brief moment. “driving me fucking crazy.”

the incessant pap-pap-pap of toji’s hips against your ass echo among the walls of the small casting room, nearly drowning out the praise with how hard he’s fucking you. still, you smile, letting the suit-clad cameraman brush your hair from your face.

“where’d you learn how to take dick like this, huh?” toji teases, switching his grip from your face to your shoulders. your scene partner uses his newfound leverage to pull you back onto his cock, groaning at the new angle. 

“only like this with you,” you moan, clenching at the sounds of approval both men give you.

“what, you forget about me?” shiu asks, feigning jealousy for the sake of the scene.

toji leans forward, chest-to-back as he whispers something in your ear. hard, deep thrusts slow to a grind as he speaks to you. you nod, giggling at shiu’s pointed look of confusion.

“what’s wrong?” the cameraman mouths, moving to turn the camera off. you beckon him over to the couch instead, jolting from the pick-up of your scene partner’s thrusts.

the two men share a look as you readjust the camera, gauging the shot in the crystalline glint of the lens. perfect, you think. he was going to love this. 

deft hands make haste with his belt, undoing the buckle ever so slowly. the two of you lock eyes for just an instant as his face contorts into a grin, setting the camera on his shoulder to throw his belt off to the side. 

“oh i get love too now?” he teases, unbuttoning his bottoms and letting you get to work. his ironed suit jacket hits the floor, dress shirt half open. 

“you’ve fucked her before genius,” toji adds, slowing the pace of his thrusts to let you work on the cameraman. he was right, off and on camera even.

shiu’s hard, unbearably so when you free him from his boxers and take him into your mouth. you can practically feel how difficult it is for him to not blow his load right then and there, especially after watching you and toji go at it for half an hour with no stimulation of his own.

“hah fuck— she knows what i like, right?” the question is rhetorical, he wants you to take the bait. 

and take the bait you do, pulling off his dick just enough to swirl your tongue around his aching tip.

the noise you earn is more than pornographic, it’s downright sinful, egging you on as you move to take him to the base. 

“you seein’ this?” shiu gasps, panning the camera up to toji who has since stopped fucking you to watch. thick, deft fingers come up to rub at your clit instead, making up for the lost simulation. 

shiu’s free hand reaches down to nestle into your hair, pulling taught. a quick look to make sure the camera lines up is all he gives you before deft hips snap forward, fucking your throat with urgency.

the two men share a look briefly, chuckling as toji finally ramps up the pace again. thick, hot lengths penetrate you from either side, overloading your brain with pleasure. 

“look up at the lens for me baby,” shiu gushes, losing his grip on your hair to cradle your cheek in his palm. you push back on the cock currently pummeling your walls, eagerly groaning for the camera.

“aww there we go, always our favorite star.”

the praise goes right to your head, throat opening up to allow more of his length in. he hisses at the stimulation, grumbling a soft “fuck this,” before setting the camera down on the coffee table in front of the couch. 

“oh, that’s a good fucking shot,” toji comments, pleased at the new camera angle. the thought of the studio’s loyal fanbase getting to watch you get spit-roasted by the hottest business partners in the industry pushes you closer to the edge.

“fuck, there.” shiu groans, pulling himself from your throat with an obscene squelch. a whoop rings out from behind you, no doubt from toji as viscous ropes of cum paint your cheeks— you swear you hear them high-five each other.

“shit, sorry about the mess,” he doesn’t sound sorry at all, tapping the head on your closed lips with a fucked-out smile.

salty cum floods your tastebuds as you work to clean his manhood off, pulling back with an audible pop and a smile. “s’ okay shiu.”

“that’s talent right there,” the camera man comments, clearly pleased with your performance. shiu tucks himself back into his dress pants, quietly motioning for you and toji to switch positions.

the raven-haired man wastes no time lifting you into the air, thick hands situated under your thighs for support.

the position alone might have gotten you close enough to come had he still been inside you. you’re held against his standing body only by the hands under your legs, back-to-chest as you face the camera. 

you hike your legs up, locking eyes with shiu as you’re lowered onto toji’s dick a final time. 

the stretch is absolutely obscene, filling you to the brim over and over again as he thrusts into you.

“perfect, perfect guys,” shiu leans closer to get a better shot of your face. “just like that.”

“you wanna tell everybody at home where you want it?” toji asks, biting your shoulder for good measure.

“inside—please.” you sigh, laughing at the obscene groan that sounds from behind the camera. shiu reaches down to rub your swollen clit for you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

hot seed floods your body a second time, warming you from the inside out. the things toji pants into your ear are obscene, overwhelming your senses while shiu’s hand deals out tiny pats to your clit.

you both sink onto the couch for the final time, the soft leather cushions embracing your tired bodies. shiu approaches with the camera, flipping through a couple of scenes to seek your shared approval.

you sit quietly as you're wiped down with a wet towel, still attached to toji at your most intimate points.

“tired angel? need to wash off?” he asks, maneuvering you on his dick to straddle him.

“yes please,” you mumble happily, resting your head on his shoulder. two sets of hands gently caress your body, wiping the last drops of fluid from your sweaty skin.

“you’re gonna make us all millionaires, i swear,” shiu mumbles, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before stepping into the bathroom to draw you a bath.

[freshxsturniolo]

THATS FRESH LOVE FOR THE FIT - chris sturniolo x femreader!

request : Can you write a fic about how all the triplets are at a fresh love merch photoshoot. Y/N is the model but then Chris starts to check y/n out and starts to get hard but doesn’t want his brothers to notice and tries to play it off but y/n does notice and does something about it….

warnings : smut, oral, self masturbation

chris could not take his eyes off of you. not that he ever usually could anyway, but seeing you standing so effortlessly gorgeous, a complete natural, in front of the camera for his OWN brand made him feel giddy.

you had wore fresh love around him a hundred times before, you had your own stash of clothes but you equally would always steal his too, but there was something about this that was different.

he had never wanted to ask you to model before, only for the fact he felt protective of you. for the most part, his fanbase was incredible, but there was no hiding some of the more hateful comments you received. he admired the way you didn't let it bother you, but there was a difference between the odd instagram post and an entire photoshoot.

but gods, he couldn't resist anymore. it started with the most previous lets trip merch drop, and the way the internet went wild for the new baby tees. they had been your idea, knowing the fanbase would love them, and they kicked themselves immediately for not asking you to model when they announced the merch drop on instagram and saw the way the comments went wild.

just me who thinks @/yourusername should have modelled that baby tee?

nah more baby tees next drop and get @/yourusername to model please

excuse me? baby tees? @/yourusername we neeeeeed some pics of you in this

so when it came down to picking models for his next fresh love drop, he had bounced on you immediately.

"are you sure?" you had said with an excited smile when he asked you, thinking he was going to simply ask you to come along. he knew you had a creative eye and would help him direct the shoots.

"of course, baby. if you feel comfortable to?" he had asked, and you had wrapped your arms around his neck.

"i would love to"

but chris underestimated just how much he would find if difficult to watch you, for the pure and simple fact you were the most beautiful girl he had seen in his whole entire life. you were stood now behind the camera, a fan was placed strategically at the side of you to blow your hair across to the side. you were bare faced, chris' favourite look on you, with some lipgloss on your lips to make them shine throughout the camera, and a sultry look upon your face. you damn well knew how to work the camera.

"gods, she looks incredible" nick said at the side of chris as he watched you, taking his phone out and snapping some photos for you on his phone. you had asked nick kindly to take some behind the scenes photos for you to look back on, and help promote the drop for chris when it was finally released.

"yeah" chris mumbled, swallowing deeply as the photographer asked you to turn more the side. you were modelling a new t-shirt and sweatpants, and the photographer had asked you to move so the side of the pants where visible, fresh love running down the side of the leg. you knew exactly what you were doing, placing your hands in the pockets and arching your back, your ass sticking out ever so slightly to create the perfect curve. he could not stop looking at you. he couldn't.

you were in your own zone, feeling more comfortable than you even thought you would. you'd done shots with the other models first to get you in the zone, having never modelled before, yet somehow when you were alone it had come so naturally to you. you knew your better angles, knew the vision chris had had for this particular launch.

so when you finally let your eyes wonder to him, you can't help the smirk that overcomes you. he's standing next to nick, who you notice is taking photos on his phone of you, with his arms crossed. his eyes dark but intensely wide as he looks over you. you wander your eyes back to the camera for just another second but you can't seem to stop yourself from looking back towards him. nicks saying something to him now, and chris all but nods, before his eyes wander to yours. you stare at each other in a moment of knowing. you were doing perfectly.

he gulps, walking forward slightly, when the photographer calls cut for a second. you snap your head straight to him, giving him a smile.

"are they okay?" you ask, putting yourself in a more relaxed position. and the photographer smiles.

"perfect, do you wanna come look?" and then he turns to chris. "chris, man, do you wanna come and look?"

you look over at your boyfriend and watch as his eyes finally divert away from you, and he gives a smile to the photographer before walking over. you smile, stepping forward towards the laptop with all your photos already automatically transferred over. when you see the first few, you let out a giggle, happy with the way in which they come out, before you feel firm hands on your hips.

you smile, turning your head to catch your boyfriends eye for just a second before he diverts back to the laptop, pulling you closer into him. a small gasp leaves your lips when you feel him, his erection hard against your back. chris gives your hips a squeeze, signalling for you to be quiet, and you let out a smirk as you look back at the photos.

“she’s a natural, chris. i can’t believe you’ve never asked her to model before”

you smile up at the photographer as chris speaks. “yeah, me either. is she done?”

you quick whip your head to chris, giving him an eye, but he ignores you as his eyes bore into the photographer.

“unless you wanted photos together,” you press your back against chris now, the top of your ass rubbing against his cock, and he lets out a small whimper. “to show the clothes are unisex? i think it would be a great selling point”

you spin around now fully in chris’ grasps, pressing your chest against his, the dark sultry look in his eyes tells you everything you need to know.

“shall we, baby?” you smile up at him, and he looks at you for a second, putting his arm around your back and pulling you closer to him, his erection now hard against your stomach, before looking towards nick.

“can’t nick do it?” he says, his throat husky.

you smirk but whip your head to nick, who looks up from his phone.

“me?! i think he meant it would sell well as a mr and mrs type situation” nick barked back, and you let out a chuckle as you look back up at chris, just in time to see him gulp. he looks to the photographer before back to you, and you tilt your head to the side.

“what’s wrong, babe?” you say, pressing yourself further into him, and he lets out a small groan before looking back to the photographer.

“can we take 5? i need to change” chris almost crocked out, and you let out a satisfied giggle as you go to step away from him. but his grip on you becomes tighter, and you only have to look down for a short second to see his current pants are doing nothing to hide his growing member. you smirk, embracing in his touch and feeling giddy at the thought of his reaction to you.

the photographer smiles and nods before looking toward you. “do you wanna take a few more single shots whilst we wait?”

but you don’t get time to answer. “no.” chris says for you. “i need to talk to her a second”

the photographer throws up his hands, before turning back to his computer. chris bends down to speak in your ear.

“start walking, and stay firmly in front of me” he whispers, and you give him a sultry smile. “and stop fucking looking at me like that, unless you’re going to do something about this little problem.”

you smirk. “little?” you say, looking down at him.

he groans, twisting your body around and pushing you forward slightly, and you can’t help but laugh as you start to walk forward. but you don’t get far before nick is on your side, his phone thrown in your direction.

“look at these” he beams, and you take the phone from him as you flick through the photos he had taken.

“oh my god” you smile, genuinely happy with what you can see, but hands are in front of you and the phone is whipped from your hand.

“chris” you squeal, turning around to look at him, but he grabs your hips and pulls you against him as he tosses the phone back in nicks direction.

“not now, nick” he says, and nick throws him a questioning glance, his eyes diverting down to chris’ hands firmly on your hips. his eyes widen slightly, but chris is pushing you forward again, aiming towards the back room where the changing rooms for the models is.

“chris” you whisper, and when you’re finally out of the clearly of others eyes, he steps to the side of you.

“i’m not having my brothers see what you do to me” he says, grabbing your hand.

you’re silent for a second as he walks into the changing rooms, pushing you inside and checking you’re alone, before he shuts the door behind you. he leans his head against the door, taking a deep breathe before he spins around to look at you.

“sorry, baby. you just - fuck - you look so good. i need a minute.”

but with your eyes firmly on the outline of his cock through his sweatpants, you pounce. your hands are on his waistband immediately, and you start to pull them down.

“what are you-“

“let me help, baby” you say, pushing him against the door and getting down on your knees.

“you don’t need to - oh fuck”

it’s too late, his sweatpants are down and your hands are palming him through his boxers, one hand hooked around the waist band as you pull those down too. his cock springs against his stomach, pre cum already covering his tip as you take him into your hands again.

“don’t need to, huh? you was just going to let this go down by itself” you say, and he looks down at you with a look you’d seen so many times before. he couldn’t resist you, he needed you. “i’ll make it quick” you joke, and you move forward as you take him whole. your soft plump lips working him immediately.

“fuck” he groans, his hands coming to your hair, taking a firm grip as you bob your head up and down. it’s been seconds and he’s already shaking, his back hitting the door as he arches his hips forward so you’re forced to take him even deeper.

“look at me” he whispers, grabbing your hair and tugging so you automatically look up at him. you can’t help but let out a chuckle, the vibrations it sends across his cock making him almost whimper. but he keeps his eyes on you, even when you twist your head to take him deeper, your tongue working across his tip every other second, something which you knew sent him crazy.

“my fucking girl” he whispers. “my beautiful fucking girl.”

and you can’t help but moan, your thighs clenching as his words sends shivers through you, right to your core. but he notices, he sees the way your eyes change and your legs get tight together and he doesn’t even think before he lets out his next words.

“touch yourself” he says, and you stop what you’re doing immediately, removing your mouth from him. his eyes widen. “fuck, sorry. you don’t have to, i don’t know what-“

but you don’t let him finish before you slid your hands down your sweatpants, feeling your own wet folds. his eyes widen again, and he’s about to say something before your mouth is on him again, taking him deep, whilst your rub your own clit.

this was the hottest thing you’d ever done.

“oh my god” he whispers, his eyes diverting from your eyes to your hand, not knowing where to look.

you can feel yourself close to the edge within seconds, the feel of his cock withering in your mouth, your fingers moving vigorously as you touch yourself, and the both of you give up looking at one other. his hands slams backwards whilst your eyes clothes, the pleasure almost unbearable for you both.

“i’m going to cum, babe” he shakes out, and you use it as a sign to take him faster, your own hand working in unison with your hand. “look at me” he says again, and so you do.

you climax before him, a whimper escaping you whilst he’s still in your mouth, but it’s that that sends him over the edge as his load enters your mouth.

you move your tongue across him just a few more times, the same way in which you move your fingers just to get the last of your high, before you slowly lick your tongue up his whole length, pulling him out of your mouth, and then you let out a smile as you swallow his cum whole.

“fuck, babe, fuck” he shakes, as you finally remove your hand from your sweatpants. you’re covered in your own juices, but as you stand up chris grabs your hand immediately, taking one look at your fingers before he puts them in his mouth, licking you clean. when he removes them, he twists your hands around and kisses the back of your hand.

“chris” you say, and he looks at you. “that was-“

“i love you” he says, not even letting you finish, and you can’t help but let out a laugh as you lean forward, pressing your lips against his.

“i love you too, goof. now get changed.” you mutter against his lips before you take a step to the side.

he chuckles before he steps forward, reaching down and pulling up boxers. you watch him as he steps towards the pile of clothes towards the back of the room, picking out the same outfit as your own and getting himself changed. when he turns around to look at you, he smiles.

“you’re insane, did you know that?” he says, and you roll your eyes jokingly as you finally turn around and open up the door.

but it’s the same time as matt was just about to open the door to come in, and you both let out a small squeal as you make each other jump.

“jesus, matt” you laugh, holding your hand to your heart.

“i thought you were having your photos taken, what are you-“

but he stops short as chris comes up behind you. there’s a silence between the three of you before matt turns on his heel.

“ew my fucking god. ew ew ew”

and you can’t help but let out a laugh.

“bro” chris begins, but matt holds up his hands and continues to walk off, his back turned on you both.

chris lets out a grumble before he holds onto your hips again, whispering in your ear.

“this is your fault.” he says, and you let out a smile as you turn your head to look at him.

“just doing my job” you say, before you skip off back in the direction of the photographer.

a few weeks later when the launch finally drops, you post a photo to your instagram of a behind the scenes photo nick took of you both. chris’ around your waist as you stand just off to the side of him, your hip pressed against his back so you can see the new t-shirts clearly, but your hand is entwined with his.

@/yourusername : proud of you always @/christophersturniolo. new fresh love out now!

comments :

HE FINALLY GOT YOU TO MODEL!!!

do i fancy chris or you more?

cutest fucking couple ever.

mattsturniolo : scared for life.

tarayummy : my king and queen.

HELP WHAT DOES MATTS COMMENT MEAN?

[coldfanbou]

Serving You (Quickie)

Here's that SinB birthday quickie. She's as submissive as always.

Length: 900

Sinb X Mreader

SinB watched as Eunha skipped ahead of her after the performance; she knew her childhood friend was going to her boyfriend to have sex. It was what she was going to do, too. She headed to a separate room; she thought about you as she neared the green room you were in. SinB could feel her legs becoming slick with her juices as she saw the door. Her calm walk turned into a short jog as she felt herself longing to be stuffed by your cock. She opens and slams the door before launching herself at you. 

SinB presses her lips against you, her tongue trying to push its way inside. You allow her to, knowing that in a few moments, her dominant demeanor would turn into submission. SinB didn’t even try at this point, knowing what you do to her. You place your hands on her hips, the small stones of her shorts poking your hands. “Time for some fun.” SinB moans into your ears. “Why don’t you help me out of this?” SinB runs her thumb across her lower lip, a lustful look in her eye.

She turns herself around, sitting on your lap. You eye the zippers to her outfit. You unzip her top first, and as more of SinB’s back is revealed, you become aroused. SinB grins as she feels your bulge growing against her. SinB holds her top to her chest as it loosens. She looks over her shoulder, smiling at you before tossing her top onto the couch. You were about to start removing her shorts when she stood up. “What’s up, SinB?”

“I thought you’d want a better angle.” She says, bending over. You smirk and begin pulling on the zipper. SinB’s shapely bottom is revealed to you, along with her wet cunt. Slick covers her thighs as she moves her hips side to side, shaking her ass for you. “Come and take it.” You stand up and pull your cock out, rubbing it against her slit and coating it in her nectar. “Mmm, that’s nice.” She hums, gently pushing her ass against you. You move back slightly, pressing your head against her entrance; the slight resistance makes you both moan. You slip inside, feeling her warm walls grip your cock as you push more inside of SinB. She whines, her legs growing weak as she feels you inside her. Looking over her shoulder, SinB watches as your hips move forward. You hit her G-spot. SinB bites her bottom lip as she tries to remain composed, but as you pick up the pace that becomes impossible, moans flow from her lips as you hook her arms, keeping her still. The clap of your bodies fills the room; your thrusts make SinB cry out for more, desperate to feel you take her roughly. “Harder!” SinB cries out as she grimaces.

You let go of one of her arms, pulling back your hand and sending it crashing into her ass. SinB moans, enjoying the pain of the strike. You give her more, slamming your hands into her ass, leaving it bright red. You feel SinB’s walls tightening around you as she nears her orgasm. SinB struggles to contain herself, trying to hold back her orgasm for your sake, but your thrusts are too much. As the tip of your cock kisses her womb, SinB climaxes, her walls clamping down on your cock as she experiences the bliss of her orgasm. 

Her tight walls make it difficult for you to last much longer; you move quickly before coming to a sudden stop and burying yourself inside her. SinB feels your hot semen being pumped into her; she feels your cock throbbing as it pushes more into her pussy. Sinb raises her body, reaching back and putting one arm around you to hold herself up. As she turns her head, you kiss her, her tongue lazily flopping around as you explore her mouth. SinB is on cloud nine; her eyes half-lidded as she recovers from her orgasm. Your hands wander her thin body, moving to her modest chest. You pull on one of her nipples; a low groan comes from the woman. “I think you should clean me up.” You whisper into her ear. SinB nods along, turning around and kneeling before you.

You sit back on the couch, enjoying as SinB wraps her lips around your cock, looking at you lovingly as she uses her tongue on the tip. You place your hand on her head, pushing her to the base of your cock. You felt her throat tighten around you as she struggled to breathe. She looked at you, her gaze trying to gauge how long you would keep her there. 

Once SinB’s throat relaxes, you let her pull back; she coughs before returning to your cock, sliding her lips along the side as she serves you. You feel another orgasm coming and let SinB continue with her blowjob stopping her as you’re about to explode, choosing instead to finish yourself off and paint her face with your cum. SinB opens her mouth, willingly letting you ruin her pretty face as she tries to catch some of your cum. She smiles at you after, enjoying the facial you gave her. SinB reaches between her legs scooping cum from her cunt and eating it, savoring the taste before kissing you on the cheek. “I have to go change, but I’ll be back for more.” She tells you as she puts on her stage outfit again.

[haikyu-mp4]

Fussy

word count; 1176 – f!reader

Not usually favouring sports, you’re in the journalism club to make use of your great eye for design and writing. After watching one of your school’s volleyball team’s official games last season, you took notice of the boring brochures they handed out with the players’ information. You hadn’t yet chosen what to do for your project this semester and decided to lend your talents to making a better representation of the team’s charms and talents. What you didn’t expect to get out of the project was a date.

You received permission from their coach and captain and set up some equipment to take your photos in a room adjacent to the gym during practice. Hopefully, you can encourage them all to pose confidently. In order to not disturb their whole practice, you ask one grade to join you at a time, starting with the first-years and ending with the third-years. Good luck!

You already know the captain of your school’s volleyball team. Sometimes you wondered if Kuroo knew everyone. The two of you have a lot of classes together and you would be lying if you said you hated hearing his charming comments and finding fun ways to quip back at him. Perhaps you even developed a little crush. So when you decided on the project for your club, you asked him with the biggest possible doe eyes to approve it and help get his players to cooperate. He was more than happy to help you and arrange everything, despite telling you that you owe him.

Fortunately, the first years were easy. Absolute sweethearts that were so excited to show off. You had almost finished with the second-years when you met your first obstacle of the day, unless you count Lev being too tall for you to photograph without a stool to stand on and Inuoka not being able to stand still so most of the pictures ended up slightly blurry. No, this was an actual problem.

Kenma was having a bad day and didn’t want to.

Nekoma’s pampered prince was really not in the mood for this today, and with every pose you didn’t approve of as good enough, he got more fussy. His facial expressions were very expressive, especially now that he was annoyed, it just wasn’t the emotion you wanted. You sighed and stomped your foot a little, looking at him with a slight frown. “Can’t you try a little harder, Kenma?”

“Does it really matter? Just use the first ones,” he complained, sounding incredibly bored.

You were trying to resist saying you would snitch on him to Kuroo like a little kid, but it was getting gradually more difficult. “This project is important to me, I want to make all of you look good.”

“Are you saying I look ugly?” Okay, now he was being childish. The two of you glared at each other for a second before Yamamoto stepped in to yell at his teammate about how a pretty girl needed their help and Kuroo told them to do everything you say and then hurry back to practice. On the contrary, that only made Kenma more apathetic. “I won’t start posing up a storm just because Kuroo has a crush on her.”

You froze, biting your lip as a blush flushed over your cheeks at the reveal. He has a crush on you? Yamamoto started waving his hands as if stressed about the information being revealed, but he only stuttered out a few syllables that didn’t turn into anything usable. You pick up your camera and look through the pictures you had taken of Kenma again, still chewing on your lip as you try to focus on the task at hand. “Can you do this again, please? Last one.” You held up the camera to show him the reference photo and he silently agreed, standing ready for you. You change the angle a bit and do your best to adjust the lighting before finally dismissing the second-years. When Kenma was about to leave, you carefully tapped his shoulder, not really meeting his eyes. “Is it true? About Kuroo…”

Kenma heard his best friend talk about you all the time. Your wit and charm matched his and he was especially obsessed with how you started doing your hair lately. The setter didn’t look so annoyed with you anymore, which made you glad. “Yes. Please date him or something so he’ll stop whining to me about it.”

You were a bit nervous when the third-years arrived, switching between avoiding Kuroo and coming on too strong. How do you act when you know someone you like likes you back?

Yaku and Kai were great, following your instructions and easily giving you several options for what photo to use of each. As Kuroo stepped up to the plate, he talked to you while you got the camera ready and fetched the little stool you used for the first years. “I hope no one gave you any trouble today,” he said, sounding like he would rather have a normal conversation right now.

“Your best friend and I got into it but we came to an agreement,” you said, gaining a bit more confidence as you went along. That made him chuckle, a fond look on his face as he didn’t doubt Kenma would fight the spotlight. You smiled at him before holding up the camera again, making sure the lens was on him when you kept talking. “I didn’t know you had a crush on me!”

Oh, the betrayal. As Yaku’s laughter burst behind you, you watched through the camera lens as Kuroo faltered and his smile fell, snapping as many photos as you could. His face suddenly matched the uniform and his shoulders were sky-high. “Huh?” he said. He was flustered, brain trying desperately to decide if he should deny it or follow the flow. Damn it, Kenma. Suddenly, Kuroo regretted how he had stolen some of Kenma’s snacks earlier. “You’re not going to use those pictures, are you?” he ended up saying, unusually awkward. It was fun, seeing Kuroo stumble.

Yaku and Kai end up throwing in a little comment about being finished anyway and leaving the area, giving the two of you some space. When he came back to the gym, Yaku threw an arm over Kenma’s shoulder and ruffled his hair, giving him a confusing mix of praise and scolding.

Meanwhile, you were smiling at Kuroo as he stepped a little closer to you. “Of course not, they’re for my special collection.” You wiggled your eyebrows and Kuroo finally felt his shoulders relax a little.

“I did say you owe me one for this project, how about I take you out this weekend?” he asked, usual charm back in place along with his crooked smirk.

“That sounds great, Tetsuro,” you agreed, taking a moment to say anything else as you stared at him up close. Your cheeks were burning at this point and you fumbled with the camera. “Now, come on. We have to show off Nekoma’s captain!”

“You got it, boss.”

/please note that Yaku calls Kenma their «pampered prince» in season 4, so that is not me making a nasty comment about Kenma. I just think it’s a very cute nickname that fit the scenario!

the Flyer Series ║ masterlist

/taglist: @cottonlemonade @dira333 @cosmiicdust @nagi-core

[ma1dita]

pushover

luke castellan x dionysus!reader

a/n: usually you’re the one stitching Luke up but the one time he gets to do it for you, he knows you’re milking it. no trouble!verse tags, can be standalone -> she’s an ACTRESS okay? who tf wouldn’t want luke to kiss a booboo; this was a forgotten draft for my partners in crime series feel free to read

wc: 1.2k

“OWWWW!”

The sun shines again on Camp Half-Blood peeking through Luke’s dark curls as he towers over you, laughing from his position above. Your knee is scraped after cushioning your fall, or perhaps your attack, after Luke thought it’d be funny to push you again as he walked past.

Well, today’s been kind of boring, so might as well make the most of it right? 

As a daughter of Dionysus, you do love to put on a good show.

There’s a glimmer of mischief in your eye as you do your best to convince him that he’s maimed you but as his eyes fall to the slightly aggravated skin, Luke sighs at the way you look like a kicked puppy, lower lip jutting out as you squint up at him.

“Stop being so overdramatic. It wasn’t that serious.”

“YOU SHOVED ME INTO A BUSH!” 

The howl that leaves your throat catches the attention of other campers, who are familiar with your dramatics and your penchant for picking a fight with the son of Hermes. Luke sighs and runs his hands through his hair, groaning in embarrassment. 

Gods forbid he look like the bad guy.

“Seriously, trouble— you're acting like I pushed you off a cliff,” he grumbles finally crouching down to reach for your leg to check how serious it is. 

It’s not.

“You're a barbarian. Just because you think it's funny to push me around doesn't mean it actually is! Luke.... I can't walk! It feels like my bone is coming through. And I have so much work to do today, and now I'm gonna have to walk super slow…” you groan, still on the ground. Luke rolls his eyes and once he's checked the injury (the whole menacing palm-sized scrape) his expression softens the tiniest bit. He’s still kinda pissed off at you for being a drama queen though.

“Alright, it's not life-threatening so you're going to be fine. Look, I can carry you if I have to.”

Batting his hand away you roll your eyes, “Like I'd let you. You'd probably toss me into the lake again.” 

Luke smirks, “Probably, but I swear to the gods that I wouldn't do anything to maim you. Not on purpose at least.” It’s almost criminal how easy it is to get on your nerves—he thinks you’ve finally shut your trap until he watches you fake crawl away to get a reaction out of him. Quite frankly, it’s embarrassing to everyone watching so he scoops you into his arms like you weigh nothing. Luke chuckles softly, wrapping his arms tightly around your squirming frame so you won't fall as he begins walking.

“So difficult. I swear…”

“Me? Never!” you groan, flopping in his arms like a dead body. Your dead weight makes his arms strain a little but his muscles are fun to look at from any angle, so… 

You miss it when he starts speaking again, “You're too much, you know that?” A smirk grows upon your face, “And you can't get enough. The infirmary is the other way, Castellan....” Luke huffs as he turns 180 towards the infirmary, sighing softly at the way you are sprawled in his arms. But he keeps quiet because he knows how to pick and choose his battles. Something about the realization that he’d only do this for you makes him bite his lip in thought. But you think he’s trying to not laugh at you.

“What? You maim me and then you make fun of me? Haven't you done enough?” The words slip by as you peek at him through one open eye, his cheeks flushed and rosy. Hopefully, his brawn won’t expire on the short trek to the infirmary.

“You're lucky I don't drop you right now,” Luke jostles you with a lopsided grin he can’t hide anymore and it steadily gets bigger at the sound of your surprise.

“Don't you DARE, Luke Castellan!” 

Grabbing onto his mop of curls, the boy winces as his nose brushes against your wrist, and the shockwaves it sends through your system are enough to send you reeling. Maybe it’s the way you almost sway with each step he takes, smooth and steady like a sailboat even when he’s carrying you like this.

He ends up having to carry you inside the infirmary and the Apollo kids on shift stop and stare at their two best counselors in the doorway. Luke tries to ignore them, setting you down on an empty cot and getting the medical supplies he needs to treat your wound. He looks at you propped on the bed like a little princess, cross-legged and fluttering eyelashes waiting for him to clean you up. It's not serious enough for ambrosia, he thinks, so he grabs an alcohol wipe instead.

Luke looks like he's trying his hardest not to smirk as he grabs your leg and begins carefully cleaning the scrape.

“Ow! Gentle! When I patch you up after you spar I don't do it maliciously!”

“I am being gentle, stop wriggling!” Luke grits his teeth as he continues to wipe the drying blood away. He's trying to be careful, but he's clearly irritated that you're not making this easy for him.

Tossing your knee over his lap and getting closer, suddenly you go quiet at the proximity. There’s something intimate about being tended to so delicately in a room filled with people. A quiet in the chaos reserved for only the two of you.

“So what, you think I'm too good for ambrosia? Sending me off to heal like a mortal— what type of nurse are you?”

“You drunk on ambrosia for a scrape would definitely make your dad thrilled and have the both of us cleaning the stables for the rest of the week,” Luke lets out a brief snicker as he meets your gaze, rolling your eyes as you lean against the wall. His hand unconsciously rubs circles into the skin above your knee, featherlight yet firm at the same time. You try to ignore the goosebumps that rise in its wake.

Luke doesn't say anything about it while he continues to look at you. He realizes that you look quite pretty even with windswept hair and dirt on your cheek, but he can't let you see that he's noticed. Something shifts in the air of the infirmary, more overpowering than the smell of antiseptic and it bubbles in both of your chests, overflowing and seeping into the small space between you.

Not bad for a boring day, you suppose. You make him piggyback you for the rest of the day in an attempt to guilt-trip him. But the huge smile on his face has all of your campers thinking otherwise.

—

The next day, he sees you walking perfectly fine. In fact, with the way you’re rushing to scold a Hephaestus kid for almost setting the armory on fire, he’s not sure he’s ever seen you move that fast in your life.

Warmth settles on your cheeks as your eyes dart between the kid you’re yelling at and Luke’s narrowing eyes from afar, and you can’t quite tell if the rush of emotions is from what you’re doing versus who you’re really looking at.

Maybe the next time he pushes you around he’ll find out.

[headspace-hotel]

The day before yesterday I got to try a ripe pawpaw for the first time.

Someone else was supposed to come in at the center, but I was in the mood to be alone, so I fucked off into the woods at the earliest available opportunity, looking to collect more hickory nuts.

I hiked about two miles down the trail, seeking to find a little-used path as far from the center as I could reasonably make it. I was five or ten minutes down a fork in the path heading down a valley when I unexpectedly smelled something familiar: the scent of ripe pawpaws. I only knew that scent from having come upon a rotten one several days back on the trail.

I had seen pawpaw trees on the way up, but I looked around and saw nothing. I indulged a beast-like impulse: I sniffed. I turned until I was facing the direction of the scent and moved towards it. And I saw, about 50 feet away down the hillside below...a pawpaw grove

Some interesting facts about pawpaws:

The pawpaw is the largest fruit native to North America, known for its "tropical" flavor. Despite being reputed to be delicious, it is not found in grocery stores due to the fruits being far too delicate to ship without spoiling. A few people farm them, but otherwise the only way to get one is to come upon one growing wild, which is rare, because the opossums love them.

Pawpaw trees are hard to grow and take 10-15 years to produce fruit, but you can see wild ones in mature and well managed woods of Kentucky. They are small, barely trees, only about 15-20 feet tall, with trunks only a bit bigger around than a circle you can make with your index finger and thumb. They almost always grow in clonal colonies, groups of many trees that are all clones of each other due to being propagated from the roots of existing trees. They are also strictly understory trees, growing in the shade of much larger trees.

Now, an interesting fact about Eastern Kentucky: At the fringe of Appalachia, and even into parts of the Outer Bluegrass, the terrain frequently turns into very steep rolling hills.

It's hard to notice if you are in more cultivated areas that have been leveled out more, but in wilder parts you can seldom just casually walk in a straight line through the woods. Unless you are following the contour of the hills, you are either sliding and gripping saplings to slow your descent or you are climbing on all fours.

Such was the hill below me, descending at roughly a fifty-degree angle into the pawpaw grove.

I was going to get me some fucking pawpaws.

I climb down the hill by a combination of scooting, sliding, and scrabbling. After a few minutes of struggle I am standing in the pawpaw grove, alone, scanning the branches with my eyes.

The ground is littered everywhere with pawpaws, some very rotten. I see only two or three fruits remaining in the trees, and I walk around giving each tree a good shake, thinking to myself about how this is certainly an experience shared by millions of years' worth of primate ancestors before me.

After nearly ten minutes of (literally) fruitless tree-shaking, I start to eye the fallen pawpaws on the ground around me.

Some of them are perfectly fine-looking. The skin hasn't even been broken into. I pick one up.

It is very soft, but not squishy like something rotten. It is about as long as my index finger (my hands are small) and oblong. Its smooth skin is pale green and spotted with brown like a very ripe banana. I tear the skin back and give the creamy orange insides a test lick.

Friends.

It was transcendent.

Imagine the most perfect ripe mango, but with a flavor that is more banana-like, mellow and creamy and mild instead of tangy. The texture is perfectly smooth and soft unlike any other fruit. You can lick it and it will just melt in your mouth.

I am autistic and a very picky eater due to the difficult textures of many foods, and this fruit has the perfect texture. Mangos are already one of my favorite foods and this is somehow even better. I remember, deliriously, that farmers are seeking to improve pawpaws for possible commercial production, and it seems like the height of foolishness there in the pawpaw grove. There is no possible way wild pawpaws could be improved. All of creation is tainted by the Fall of Man, except for fucking pawpaws, because they are beyond the earthly tier of fruits.

I lick it like a dog going crazy on a Kong full of peanut butter until it falls apart in my hands and start scanning the ground for another.

They are all perfectly ripe and mostly untouched by bugs or creatures. I start just squishing them in my hands and licking the creamy insides. I am just planting my face in these fruits like some kind of animal. My face and hands are covered in pawpaw squish.

I go through like ten of them before returning to my senses. I've been thoughtlessly wiping my hands on my pants, and they are now more soiled than the clothes of the messiest toddler. I feel primal and connected to my ancestors. I have truly earned my Primate Card.

My mom said in the car that I smelled very strongly of something (pawpaws) so it's safe to say that literally every person I passed on the way back down the trail got a good whiff too, and likely connected it to the Pawpaw Squish that was basically all over me.

Regrets: None

[meanbossart]

Oh boy, VaM is kind of a trial and error experience LOL I couldn't really show you how to use the interface and stuff without a whole video or something, but it's not THAT difficult to get a hang of if you just give yourself a day or two to play around, not to mention the number of tutorials you find out there. Luckily, if you only want to use it as a reference software that makes the process far easier (to this day I have no idea how to animate on that thing, since that's not what I use it for)

As for how I use it, it's pretty self explanatory - if there's a complicated pose I want to draw but I'm either having trouble with it, or just want to double-check angles/anatomy, I will use it as a resource! I use for most of my "proper" pieces (y'know, the nicer looking ones) and every once in a while for my silly comics if I'm having trouble with a pose.

Lets use this drawing for example (the character on top of DU drow belongs to @namespara )

I don't draw a lot of mud-wrestling (shocking, I know) but I had an idea of the kind of pose I wanted them to be in. So the very first thing I did was make a rough sketch of what I was envisioning:

I often do a rough sketch first, even If I know I'm going to be pulling the program up because A) It's less tedious than adjusting the models over and over again until I pick a pose and B) because sometimes I'll decide I don't need the reference, after all, and so that's 30 minutes I'll have spared myself of playing around on the software.

Now, this is a pretty complicated pose! It's in a weird angle and the bodies are making contact in ways I'm not used to depicting, so I did choose to whip out VaM for this one. I went into the program and after some messing around, I flopped my little dolls together like this:

Now something really cool about VaM is that you can completely customize your models, and if you have the patience, I would definitely encourage you to do so! Obviously, you don't have to make picture perfect replicas of every single character you have, but as you can see here I have made a DU drow "decoy" to help me better understand some of his features when I draw him: he has a strong brow, a short nose, a square jawline - these are all going to look a very specific way from certain angles, and I might not always be sure of how to draw it right! So it's useful to have models that bear SOME semblance to the character so you can better understand how different viewpoints will affect their bone structure and mass.

Also thank fucking god for the elf-ear slider. Figuring out how to draw those shits from certain angles was a huge pain in the ass when I started drawing DnD races.

So, with the reference in hand, I go over the sketch again:

Now you may notice that I don't stick to the reference 100%. There's three reasons for this:

posing on VaM is tedious as hell. You can get something incredibly natural looking and picture-perfect to reference from if you wish, but it's going to take you hours to do. So, for the most part I just slap guys together until the results are "close enough" and use that.

In my opinion, you should always aim to ENHANCE your reference material, not replicate it exactly!

While VaM is a PRETTY DANG GOOD source of anatomical reference, it isn't perfect, I often supplement it with further reference from real life resources or make tweaks based on my own knowledge where I catch it falling short (and, antithetical to what I just said, I sometimes fuck the anatomy up further on purpose if I think it looks better that way LOL it's all jazz baby).

Then lines, color, yada yada. I don't have a tutorial on that and I don't think I could make one, because my process is chaotic as hell, but I do at times use Virt-a-mate as loose reference for lighting too when coloring - waaaaayyyy less so however, because that process is even more tedious and I feel like I often get better results by just winging it. It is a feature of the program though, and I'm sure it would be helpful for someone who has a difficult time visualizing lights and shadows. I only started using this program a few months ago, so I happened to already have a pretty good understanding of that kind of thing and just don't personally feel like I get much out of that particular mechanic.

Here's a few other examples of pieces that I made reference for (WARNING: Suggestive)

Now, for the question many of you may want to ask:

"Can I trace this junk?"

And to that, I say: Buddy, you can do whatever the hell you want with the reference material you created.

However,

If your goal is to learn and improve your art, and to recreate realistic proportions and anatomy from memory, tracing won't help you.

Developing your own style, your muscle memory, and personal technique will all be hindered by choosing to trace instead of drawing from observation, so I would encourage against it. Hell - even when tracing is employed as a technique, it's usually by high-skill realism & concept artists who are looking to either cut some corners, save time, or just double-check their own proportions in order to improve further - if you try tracing as a beginner, you will most definitely find the result to still look stiff and "off".

So trust me, there is so much more to be gained from drawing from observation. Make note of tangents, compare proportions, use all the elements of the picture to dictate where and how things should go - it will be a far more rewarding experience.

Hopefully this has been helpful! VaM is a really cheap program (you get it on the guys' patreon for I think 8 dollars, just google it!) and it's definitely been worth my money as an artist since I found it. Learning to use it can be a little intimidating at first glance, but as I said above you only really need a day plus one or two tutorials to get a hang of the interface.

A fair warning though, IT IS A SOFTWARE MADE FOR VIRTUAL SEX/ADULT ANIMATION So when looking it up expect to see a some spicy content.