#or something like that I feel like there's some symbolism in that

[bluebeads-art]

2024 December 24th

SECRET SANTA ATTACK!! A beetle Loop for my gift victim @petrii-dish >:3c

I saw "insects" and "Loop" on their wishlist and neurons started firing. I'm always saying that I love when people creature-fy characters I like, but I've never done the creature-ing myself until now!

While going through Pep's blog for inspiration, I saw art of a woolly chafer beetle drawn by @/bowelfly. I'd never seen them before, and let me tell you they're the cutest bug I've ever seen and I was obsessed with them immediately. So round... so woolly...

As I was going down the woolly chafer appreciation rabbit hole, I started noticing traits I could incorporate into Loop's design. And thus; beetle Loop! :] (Although their antennae are more common cockchafer inspired. Their big antenna fans are so fancy!)

Lots of rambling and bonus art of a much more beetle-looking Loop under the cut, so be warned if you're squicked by bugs

The creatuuuure. Boop here was my first time trying to draw organic shapes with vanishing point guides and such. It went... okay...? No clue how people apply that to more complicated shapes like people though, heh.

Anyways, back to the humanoid Boops. The design elements I focused on were the antenna leaves looking like those shards of light you can see in the opening CG and some of Loop's portraits, the fluff and tibia spikes substituting for Loop's skin frizzles, wings with veins made up of constellations, and that very peculiar angular elytra shape. ;)

I had to stop myself from going ham and making the design super detailed, because I wanted it to look like something you could reasonably imagine in-game. I think I did alright in that regard! Their suspicious elytra ended up feeling fitting too, since only seeing them from the front in-game would make that foreshadowing more subtle. Also, while my decision to make them a beetle was 100% just "I really love that beetle I saw", I like the implication that the Universe was like, "Stars, you have a thick shell. Become a beetle." 😂

I struggled for a bit trying to place clock hands in the first drawing, but then I started to think that a handless clock is kinda fitting? Love when I can cover laziness with symbolism. :P

Time taken on designing and the first two drawings was 31 hours and 34 minutes (I forgot to tally them separately whoops), and beetle Boop took 8 hours and 44 minutes. It was supposed to be a doodle (because common cockchafers are sometimes called "doodlebugs" get it-) but I'm SO bad at doodling. Got lost in the perspective ruler sauce.

Check out @isat-secretsanta-2024 for more cool art, and have a happy holiday! ♥

[blackdykegirlblogger]

a/n: yes yes ik she's bi/pan but hey let's just pretend she doesn't like dick for a TINY second. this is pure butchcock (9 inches-) folks, take it or leave it (this came to me while i was in the midst of greening out and i was like woah!)

wc: a little over 1k

what can be said about ambessa medarda?

well, it depends on who you ask. to some, she's a symbol of everything noxus stands for: power, dominance, exuding an energy of strength and might so potent that it rumbles the battlefield. she was a symbol, someone to be admired.

to others, she was cruel. bloodthirsty. a tyrant who needed to be put down and stopped before she can inflict any more tragedy on whoever crossed her path.

but regardless of how one felt about her, one thing was always clear: she knew how to keep her clan in line. like any good chief, it was her sole responsibility to uphold a certain sense of morale among her soldiers. after all, it's mighty hard to feel like performing at your best day after day when that thought constantly plagued the back of your mind. the reminder that you were fighting for her, and fighting with your life. every conflict, every war. death knocked on your door constantly, and shit, it was just fucking spooky.

for her male warriors, the promise of typical medals and bragging rights hung over their heads, leaving them to jump and leap for it like the little pawns that they were (not that they knew that). men were always so easy to toy with, so proud, so arrogant. their egos being the only thing that they ever seemed to think with.

well, not the only thing. but, to put it bluntly, cock has never been her preference.

now, for all the fine gals armored up, she had a very different way of showing her appreciation for such blind loyalty.

your legs were thrown on either side of ambessa's lap, drooling cunt on full display as the warlord fucked you with a vengeance. her fat thumb flicked on your clit repeatedly, using the gallons to slick you were producing to draw little shapes onto the bud. she massaged her palm over your pussy, giving it a few firm slaps before sliding not one, not two, but three of her fingers into your cunt. the stretch was unforgiving, but you tried your hardest not to squirm away or resist. you were dumb and grateful for whatever she decided to give you, however or whenever she choose.

"this is what i expect from you all. submission. obedience." her voice boomed over the courtyard. it was barely the asscrack of dawn, the lanterns scattered around the lot of you making up for the lack of sunlight. and yet, the stage was filled. ambessa had a tradition of picking a.....soldier of the month, so to speak, and you had been her newest prize. every warrior with a cunt between their legs knew where to meet on the fated 28th of every month, praying that their good behavior had managed to catch her attention this time around.

you weren't even sure what you did, to be completely honest. you had slipped up several times during training, forgetting a certain move or staying off-guard long enough to get tackled when it was time to spar. you (along with the others) found the idea of you being her latest star student laughable.

and yet.....

she clearly saw something in you, whatever it was.

and it was enough for her to decide to make you leak with her godly touch. her digits pulled out before slamming back into you with rhythm, not only assaulting your g-spot, but areas you didn't even know existed. the tips of her fingers curled just right as streams of creamy white arousal oozed from you. maybe, if you were actually coherent and with half a brain, you would've felt some form of shame from being so exposed. maybe embarrassment. humiliation, even.

but again, you would need to have the ability to think in order to feel any of that.

your head was lolled back on her shoulder, eyes briefly meeting hers as she continued to drain you for all you had. you couldn't quite read her expression, but it only served to turn you on even more.

without even a fraction of a heads up or warning, she tears her fingers (and in turn, your orgasm) out of you, leaving you gaping and pulsing around nothing but air. oh, you were going to be the talk of the fucking town after this.

she lifted you with ease with only one of her hands, hovering you over where you were initially spread out as she used the other to guide her cock out of her pants. considering that she was well over 6 feet and built like a fucking military tank, it was only natural that what was between her thighs followed suit. you had seen it many, many times before (and creamed at the thought of it even more), but still.

it was kind of scary.

"look at them, girl. show your peers what they could earn if they perform to my standards." her dick, slathered in pre-cum and standing loud and proud, twitched with every minor movement. after what felt like ages of tense anticipation, she finally lowered you onto her. if you thought her fingers were enough to keep you full, you were in for a surprise.

"a-ah!" she wasn't even at the halfway mark yet, but gods. this was unlike anything you've ever felt, anything you've ever imagined. her hands were firm on your waist, directing you to exactly where she wanted you as you continued to face the remainder of the troop. their faces were coated in lust, with a few of them shuffling uncomfortably in their seats to ease the ache that was no doubt torturing them.

she lowered you even further, inch by inch as her girth began to suffocate you. you could feel her everywhere, and the bulge slowly appearing by your belly button only proved it. you really, really weren't sure if you could take anymore, but the last thing you wanted was to disappoint her.

no, never that.

so you had to grit your teeth and take it. absolute submission, just like she wanted. she was balls deep and tears were escaping from your eyes in bursts as you sobbed. it hurt, obviously, but it felt so fucking good. her tip kissed your cervix just right as she bounced you.

your grip welcomed her as much as it could, not even having the chance to squeeze her back out because she just kept on slamming you down.

she paid you no mind, piercing eyes raking over the crowd as she used you like a fleshlight. "let this motivate you all, hmm?"

"if you're lucky, you might be next."

[oldsoul007]

secret santa

joel miller x reader

summary: joel miller your boss is your secret santa

joel miller masterlist

I sat in the break room, nursing a mug of hot cocoa, my fingers lightly tracing the edge of the ceramic cup as I listened to the chatter around me. It was Christmas Eve, and the office was abuzz with excitement. The holiday decorations, the twinkling lights, and the smell of cinnamon and pine in the air made everything feel magical—except, perhaps, for the lingering tension I couldn’t quite shake.

I glanced over at Joel, my boss, who was standing by the coffee machine, his tall frame leaning casually against the counter as he chatted with some colleagues. Joel was older than me—by nearly a decade—and always so composed, so professional. He had this way about him that made my heart flutter, a quiet confidence that had always intrigued me. But there was a distance between us, an unspoken line neither had ever dared to cross.

The secret Santa gift exchange was underway, and I had just received mine—a small, velvet box. I had never been one for extravagant gifts, but when I opened the box, my breath caught in my throat. It was a bracelet. Not just any bracelet, but the one I’d been eyeing for months. The delicate chain of gold, with small, sparkling diamonds that seemed to capture the light in the most enchanting way.

How had they known?

I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I admired the gift, the piece of jewelry catching the light just as it had when I’d first seen it in the store window. It was exactly what I’d been dreaming of. But there was one problem—I had no idea who my Secret Santa was.

My gaze drifted across the room, landing on Joel, who had just finished his conversation and was now looking at me with a curious expression. He caught my eye, and for a moment, there was something between us—something more than just the usual professional exchange.

My heart skipped a beat.

No. It couldn’t be him, could it?

I swallowed, trying to shake the thought, but it lingered. Joel had always been kind to me, a bit aloof at times, but there had always been a quiet warmth in his eyes when we interacted. I’d never been able to ignore the way he looked at me—almost as if he were seeing something beyond the surface.

“I see you got your gift,” Joel’s voice broke through my thoughts, warm and low. He had stepped closer to me now, his eyes glancing at the bracelet I was still holding in my hand.

I nodded, my fingers unconsciously tightening around the delicate box. “Yeah, it’s… perfect,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

“I’m glad you like it,” Joel said, a small smile tugging at his lips. There was something in the way he said it that made me wonder if he was the one behind the gift. But no, that was impossible. He was my boss. We could never cross that line.

“I’ve been eyeing this bracelet for ages,” I confessed, unable to stop myself. “I didn’t think anyone would remember it.”

Joel’s smile softened, his gaze intense. “I have a way of remembering things.”

I felt a sudden jolt of warmth spread through my chest. There it was again—the unspoken connection, that subtle undercurrent of something more. But just as quickly as it came, the moment seemed to pass. He shifted his weight, breaking the spell, and took a step back.

“I… should get back to work,” he said, glancing at his watch. “But I’m glad you liked the gift. Merry Christmas, y/n.”

“Merry Christmas, Joel,” I said, my voice soft, the words lingering between us.

As he walked away, my fingers brushed the bracelet again, the weight of it suddenly feeling heavier, as though it symbolized something more than just a thoughtful gift. It felt like a bridge between us, an unspoken gesture of affection. Could Joel have gotten it for me? Or was I reading too much into it?

My heart raced as I thought back to the times we’d shared—those little moments when our eyes would meet across the room, when our conversations lingered a little longer than necessary. It was clear to me now that the attraction between us was mutual, but neither of us had ever dared to voice it.

As I sat back in my chair, staring at the bracelet, I made a decision. I couldn’t ignore the feelings any longer.

Later that evening, when the office had cleared out and the only sound was the hum of the vending machine in the hallway, I grabbed my coat and slipped out the door. The night air was cold, crisp, but filled with promise. I walked across the street to the little bar where I knew Joel liked to go after work. It was quiet there, intimate—just the kind of place where conversations could drift into something more.

The bell above the door chimed when I entered, and I saw him sitting in a corner booth, a glass of scotch in hand. Joel looked up as I approached, a surprised but pleased expression crossing his face.

“Y/n,” he said, setting the glass down. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to ask you something,” I said, my heart pounding as I stood before him. “About the bracelet. The Secret Santa gift.”

Joel’s eyes softened, and he leaned forward, his gaze never leaving mine. “You really like it, don’t you?” he said, his voice low, almost shy.

“I do,” I whispered. “It’s perfect. But I need to know… Did you get it for me?”

Joel hesitated for a moment, the brief silence between us stretching out like a promise. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Yeah. I did.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Why?”

Joel’s gaze softened as he took a deep breath, as if he were gathering courage. “Because I’ve been wanting to give you something for a while now,” he said quietly. “Something more than just a gift. I’ve been… thinking about you, y/n. For longer than I care to admit.”

I blinked, feeling the words sink deep into my chest. Was this real? Or was I just dreaming?

“Joel,” I whispered, stepping closer. “I…”

Before I could finish, Joel stood up and reached for my hand. His fingers brushed mine, and suddenly, all the space between us vanished. He was close—so close—that I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin.

“I know,” he said softly, his voice a mixture of relief and longing. “I’ve wanted this, too. But I didn’t know how to say it.”

Without another word, he leaned down, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that felt like it had been a long time coming. It was gentle, tentative at first, but as the seconds stretched on, the kiss deepened, both of us giving into the unspoken tension that had been building for so long.

When we finally pulled away, our foreheads rested against each other, and I couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Well, I guess the Secret Santa gift wasn’t the only surprise tonight,” I said, my heart soaring.

Joel smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile. “Merry Christmas, y/n.”

“Merry Christmas, Joel,” I replied, my voice full of promise.

And for the first time in a long time, the holiday season felt truly magical.

[noahthesatanist]

Forming a coven

I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while, and I think it’s finally time to put it out there: I want to start a theistic Satanic coven. A real one, not some edgy, fake, "let's just sit around and bash Christianity" type of group (ugh, we've all seen those). This would be a space for serious practitioners and devoted theists who truly believe in Satan, Lucifer, and the infernal divine. A place to build a community with like-minded people who want something deeper, more meaningful—something sacred. What would it be about?

First, it would be strictly theistic—no edgy atheists just using Satan as a metaphor or symbol to "own the Christians." We’re talking about devotion to Lucifer, to the Goetic demons, and to Hell as the glorious kingdom they’ve built. We’d honor the rebellion, the defiance, and the sacrifices that were made to create a realm of freedom, power, and beauty. If you see Hell as more than just a concept—if you feel it, believe in it, and strive to connect with its essence—then this is for you. At first, it would probably be virtual. Discord, Zoom, whatever works best for everyone. That way, we can gather no matter where we’re from. Maybe someday, it could evolve into in-person gatherings for those who can manage it, but for now, let’s use the tools we have.

What would we do?

Rituals: Monthly group rituals, where we invoke Lucifer and the infernal divine together. We’d craft rituals that are powerful and meaningful, combining traditional elements of demonolatry with personal, modern practices.

Study & Discussion: A space to learn and share knowledge about demonology, the occult, and theistic practices. Maybe even studying ancient texts like grimoires or discussing ways to refine our own spiritual paths.

Devotional Work: Creating offerings, altars, and personal rituals to deepen our connection with Lucifer and the demons. Sharing ideas and inspiring each other to grow in our devotion.

Hell as Inspiration: We could also focus on what Hell means to us—not just as a place but as a symbol of rebellion, freedom, and the ultimate “fuck you” to Yahweh’s crumbling world. I want this coven to feel like a reflection of that: strong, defiant, and beautiful.

Community Building: This isn’t just about rituals and knowledge—it’s about finding people who understand and support each other. Too often, theistic Satanists and Luciferians feel isolated, like no one truly gets them. This coven would be a safe haven for us to connect, vent, and celebrate together.

Would anyone join?

I know starting something like this is a big deal, and it’s going to take work, but I’m so passionate about this that I’m willing to put in the effort. The question is: would anyone else want to be a part of it? If this resonates with you, if you feel that pull toward the infernal and want to build something amazing with others, let me know. from hell with love, Noah hail lucifer!

[anarchomitsumi]

going back to the big question on ch65—when shima is disappointed that what mitsumi likes about him is his "kind façade"—i find it such an interesting problem.

shima HAS put on the kind facade to get mitsumi to like him. but the thing is—that's just what you do when you have a crush !! you do nice things for that person to get them to like you !

shima seems completely incapable of differentiating when he's putting on a front, and when he's being genuinely kind. he picked up the people-pleasing habit as a child, and now he doesn't know when he does it as a reflex and when he genuinely wants to be nice to someone. he doesn't understand how his kindness towards mitsumi is any different.

what he doesn't realize though, is that he's been genuinely kind to her since the beginning.

accompanying her to the student council even if he wasn't going to join himself

going to starmax with her because she said she'd always wanted to go, and helping her to become friends with makoto.

taking her goals seriously and promising to support each other with their future aspirations (my fave scene forever and ever)

going to the zoo together and hoping she'll come to love tokyo !

and he's not only been kind to mitsumi, but to mika too. noticing when she was feeling insecure and acknowledging her great style. telling her to aim for top during the volleyball tournament, and in the process reassuring her that she doesn't need to hold back her ambitions or her strong character to be likeable. and many more—to many people around him.

at some point in the upcoming chapters, shima is gonna have to realize that "being kind to someone so they'll be kind back" isn't emotional manipulation—it's just what getting to know someone is like. plain and simple. he isn't sick n twisted and tricking his friends into liking him, they just happen to like him.

the fake kindness was a problem in the begging, when he genuinely used it as a facade and didn't express any of his actual feelings. or with many of his classmates, that—like I've talked about before—see him as a status symbol rather than a person. but with mitsumi and his friends, he's kind to them and they're kind right back.

shima's problem with his own kindness doesn't really stop there, though. the actual underlying problem is the sentiment that he isn't a good person. he sees himself as a manipulative monster (re: self-identification with frankestein's monster), so no affection coming from him could ever be well meaning.

however, if he stopped for a second he'd realize that his wishes to become a better person—"i want to be as emotionally brave as mitsumi", "i want be confident in my kindness", and "i want to encourage others more"—have more to so with....self-confidence than anything else (i say at the risk of sounding like a scamming life coach). he ought to accept he is good, too. not he "could be good", he is good. already.

and if skip and loafer is good at something, it's at making its characters change their perspectives on others. like in the first chapters makoto stopped thinking of yuzu as too popular to understand her, mika stopped feeling so jelous of the other girls or looking down at mitsumi, and shima stopped thinking of mitsumi as naive—or how ujie has recently stopped viewing shima as shallow—skip and loafer tells us new poeple are usually not as antagonistic as we initially think. maybe shima will apply that sentiment to himself soon. after all, when mitsumi says she's been saved by his kindness, it's because she has her reasons.

[harmonyrae]

A Christmas Kiss

Merry Christmas! This is the SFW lots of fluff version, I am tempted to spend my Christmas writing the NSFW version LOL

Synopsis: Sylus told you he never celebrated Christmas, it was never a big deal. But Christmas holds a special place in your heart. Maybe you can convince him?

“Luke, be careful!”

Just as you utter the words you hear something shatter. You close your eyes and try to steady your breathing. You pray whatever Luke just broke can be fixed or easily replaced. You hold your breath as you bring the last box into Sylus’s office. 

“Uhhh… Something may be broken.” 

Luke stands over the box, his hand kneading the back of his neck. Kieran kneels by the box and gently opens it. He pulls out a clear crystal wing.

“You didn’t have an attachment to the angel tree topper, did you?” 

You sink into the sofa and cover your face with your hands. Worst case scenario. That was the one thing you were excited to show Sylus. You knew he wasn’t big on Christmas, but priceless antiques? He would appreciate that. It was a gift from your grandmother when you moved into your first apartment on your own. 

You held your breath to try and stop the sob threatening to escape. You feel the sofa sink next to you. You finally pull your hands away and see Kieran has sat beside you. He gives you a gentle side hug.

“Luke will fix it. Right Luke?” Even with his mask on, you can tell Kieran gives his brother an intense glare. You can’t help but let out a tiny chuckle.  

“Uhm… yes. I’ll go find the hot glue gun. It’ll be good as new, promise!” Luke picks up the box and hurries out of the room.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t make it worse. Sorry Ms. Hunter.” Kieran gets up and heads to the door.

“Thanks.” 

You can’t hide the sadness in your voice. You hear the door close and rub your hands together. Why is Sylus’s office so cold all the time when he has a fireplace?

You stand and approach the fireplace to toss in a few pieces of wood. Taking the matchbook from the mantle you light the kindling and watch the fire to flicker to life. As the warmth washes over your face and you finally feel yourself smile. You still have a lot of work to do and plenty of decorations that are not broken. Sylus will be back in a few hours and you want his office to look like Christmas threw up all over it. It’s time to get to work. 

You approach Sylus’s gramophone. You always found it funny how Sylus had such an old school record player, but the look he gave you when you suggested an upgrade told you it meant more to him than you realized. You pull out the Christmas Classics vinyl from one of the boxes. While you knew you should wrap it, you couldn’t let this particular present for Sylus go to waste. You place the vinyl on the turntable and gently lower the needle. The soft melody of White Christmas floats through the room and you shiver with excitement. 

Over the next two hours you carefully move folders and trinkets aside to make room for snow globes and tiny nutcrackers. You can’t help but giggle at the nutcracker you made just for Sylus. Tara dragged you to a Christmas crafting class and was teasing you the whole time as you struggled with the sheer red tool and ruby sequins. 

The nutcracker has white hair, red sequin eyes, a black suit with swirls of red. Of course, you had to include Mephisto somehow. Fortunately, someone in the class had a shifting evol and helped you shape the helmet to look like a crow. More red sequins and some silver and red glitter made Mephisto shine. You chose the nutcracker with the bent arm so you could wrap the sheer red tool around its hand to symbolize his evol. 

After the class, you were inspired to make more Sylus inspired Christmas decorations. But you also wanted to use some of your classic Christmas decorations too. You spent an hour packing some of your favorites before heading to the shop to buy some supplies for your crafting projects. 

The snow globe was filled with soft white snow and a replica of the pouch you made for him during your impromptu adventure to the grasslands. There were five stockings on the fireplace mantle. Sylus’s name in bold black letters against the bright red fabric with little crow pendants sewn in. Yours with bold purple letters and the plushie pins you won at the arcade over the summer. Luke and Kieran had stockings as well, but when you had told them your plans they begged to decorate their own. Luke went with pink letters and polar bear pins while Kieran went with blue letters and reindeer pins. You hoped they’d be put up every year, starting, hopefully, one of many traditions for the little family you’ve made here in the N109 Zone. The last stocking was a baby stocking with a single black crow painted on the baby blue fabric. Mephisto, once again, would be thrilled. 

The mantle was also adorned with garland wrapped with soft white lights, red candles in crystal Santa candle holders. The Christmas tree was delivered right on time and you made sure to take extra precautions to avoid the base leaking after watering. Sylus once told you the carpets in his office were handmade - you were not risking ruining those. It was a challenge to hang the lights and red and silver ornaments on your own, with the tree being over 10 feet tall, but you wanted it to tower over Sylus. Thankfully Luke and Kieran agreed to let you finish decorating alone after the angel mishap and found a stepladder. Luke was still trying to fix the angel, but you could tell it wasn’t going well from the updates Kieran was giving you. 

You hung the wreath made of dark red Poinsettias above his desk. Twinkle lights framed the bookshelves. Fuzzy Christmas blankets and pillows lining the couches and chairs. You sat on the couch admiring your work before looking through the box at your feet for any final additions. Sylus would be home any minute and you wanted to change into a Christmas sweater and be in the kitchen baking cookies when he arrived. You found a small box with a few floral pieces. One stuck out to you, it was a cluster of mistletoe. 

You wouldn’t need that. Or… maybe… You had been dating Sylus for a few months now, and while you were relieved he was taking things slowly, you were also wondering when he’d take the next step. Or was he waiting for you to take the next step? You were anxious and didn’t want to ruin anything. But this was your first holiday season together and maybe this was the perfect time to take that step. Staring down at the mistletoe in your hand, you square your shoulders and rise to your feet. 

You drag the stepladder to the door of his office, you confidently climb the steps and stretch your arm up to secure the mistletoe to the frame. Just as the mistletoe is secured, you hear it, the doorknob jiggles and you don’t have time to react before the door swings open. The stepladder tips and you feel yourself fall. But you’re only airborne for a moment before you land in someone’s arms. Sylus cradles you to his chest, the look of surprise on his face almost makes you laugh. You’ve never seen him caught off guard before. 

“What a surprise. I was wondering why Luke and Kieran were trying to keep me out of my own office. You’ve been busy, sweetie.” 

You watch as he takes in the room around him, still holding you close. You finally release a shaky breath and giggle as he blinks rapidly taking in the new decor. You dare to glance just above him to make sure the mistletoe is still secure. When your eyes flick back to Sylus’ he is staring at you. You can feel your cheeks warm under his gaze. He raises a brow and before you can distract him he looks up. 

“I have a lot to show you! I made some decorations just for you and I was going to bake some cookies. Tara also taught me how to make the best hot chocolate, I thought we could make that. And I brought some Christmas movies, did you hear the music? I got you a record and --”  

You were rambling, you couldn’t stop yourself. Sylus looks down at you in his arms, a smirk forming on his lips and a brow raised. He finally cuts you off.

“Mistletoe? Are you trying to tell me something?”

You are absolutely trying to tell him something, but you didn’t want to be this obvious. He wouldn’t have seen it immediately if you hadn’t fallen from the ladder.

“Of course not! It’s just a decoration!” 

Sylus smiles at your rushed explanation. You wonder if he’ll read between the lines and take the hint. You hung it up, you are ready for the next step, for your first real kiss with him. And if you’re honest, so much more. You held his gaze, falling silent. But instead of leaning in, he drops you to your feet. And he turns to walk further into the room.

Your heart hammers in your chest. He knows. He has to. You tried to make it seem like it wasn’t significant. But you knew he preferred it when you were direct with your intentions. He was punishing you. Your hand moves on its own and you grab his arm before he can move further away from you. He turns back to look at you and you stare at him silently, trying to convince yourself to just do it. Just be bold. If you see something you want, take it. 

“Something you want to say, kitten?”

You’re done waiting, you push up onto your toes and put your arms around his neck. Your lips press against his, gently at first. You’re not sure what washes over you, but you feel brave and powerful. You take his lower lip between your teeth and pull him to you. His hands find your hips and he pulls your body close. You feel his chest vibrate as he grunts in approval. You feel nearly delirious when you finally pull back. He must feel the same, with his ears turning red and his eyes misty.

His arms wrap around you and he pulls you back to him. His lips crash into yours now, you could tell taking it slow was the last thing on his mind. You thread your fingers through his hair. His hands move down to the back of your thighs, he lifts you and you wrap your legs around his waist. You hear the office door close behind you before you are carried into the room. You feel heat across the right side of your face and you turn your head, allowing Sylus to dive into your neck placing kiss after kiss. You’re in front of the fireplace, the heat from the flames damn near suffocating as you try to catch your breath. 

Sylus lowers to the floor, he positions your legs over his lap. One of his hands holding you upright while the other caresses your cheek, explores your thigh, your ass… He kisses you fervently, his tongue tracing your lips begging for permission. You can’t help but smile as you finally let him in, his tongue tangling with your own. It feels like hours before he finally pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“I knew you put that up for a reason…” His voice is breathless and raspy, making you giggle. Let him be cocky about being right, you know now more than ever, that you have this man wrapped around your finger.

“I didn’t realize we’d end up making out in front of the fireplace, I would have put some pillows down here.” 

“Use me as your pillow then.” 

He shifts and lays back on the floor, settling you on top of him. Your hands placed firmly on his chest, his hands rubbing your back ever so slightly sending tingles down your spine. You feel your stomach tighten as you stare at him. This man, he is feared by so many, but you have never felt safer. You want to stay here, laying on top of him in front of the fireplace, forever. No one vying for his attention, no Wanderers to fight. Just the two of you. 

“Sylus…”

He puts a hand behind his neck, lifting his head to look at you better. You almost choke on your words, you were just thinking about how you two were taking things slowly and now… You wanted more. But would he want to?

“Yes, my beloved?” 

You loved when he called you that. He started using it more often after getting back from the grasslands. And every time you catch yourself thinking about what life would have been like if you both had stayed. What would you be doing right now?

“I know what I want for Christmas.”

“Oh? But you said ‘No presents Sylus, I mean it’ just two days ago.” You roll your eyes to avoid blushing at his impersonation of you. 

“I changed my mind.”

“Alright, what do you want?”

“You.” 

He stares at you, his eyes wide with surprise. His ears start to turn red and you know he’s thinking up a snarky comment to make you just as flustered. But not this time. You weren’t going to lose your nerve, you were on cloud nine and didn’t want to let this moment slip away.

“You. Your time. Your space. Even your silly comments that drive me crazy. I just want you. And only you.”

You’ve never known him to be speechless, but he doesn’t even try to say another word. His lips pressed together, his jaw clenched. His eyes burrow into yours and you watch as every wall he built up comes crumbling down. Just like you feel entirely safe with him, he feels entirely safe with you. He caresses your face and you drop your gaze, feeling the weight of your confession hit you like a tsunami. He lifts your chin to look at him. 

“You’ve always had me.”

His lips find yours once more. You hold his face with your hands, sighing deeply as his hands drift from your waist, to your hips, lower and lower…

“I FIXED IT!”

You pull away from Sylus in a rush and you both look over to the door of the office. Luke and Kieran stand in the doorway, it seems they are frozen as they take in the scene before them. You, laying on top of Sylus on the floor in front of the fireplace. They start to slowly step backwards out the door when you spot the angel in Luke’s hand. 

“Wait! Oh my god! You did! You fixed it!”

You roll off of Sylus and stand up. Eagerly jogging around the couch to them. 

“Yeah, it wasn’t easy and it, ughh… might not be like it was.” He hands you the angel timidly.

You inspect the angel. The bumps of the dried hot glue and the tiny cracks and chips that couldn’t be repaired. You hold it up to the light and glance behind you, spotting a tiny rainbow square on the floor.

“It’s perfect.”

Luke sighs, relieved. Kieran pats his shoulder and tugs at his jacket urging him to follow him out of the room. Luke nods his head and skips out of the room behind Kieran, closing the door as he goes. Sylus walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your stomach.

“An angel?”

“A tree topper. An antique from my grandmother. I thought you might appreciate it being, well… unique, vintage? It’s my favorite.” 

“Then it’s my favorite too. Let’s put it on the tree then?”

You nod, not bothering to hide the smile on your face. He lifts you and places you on his shoulder. He holds onto your legs as you lean to settle the angel on top of the tree. Once it is secure, Sylus bends to let you hop off. You look up at the angel as Sylus wraps his arms around you once more. You hold onto his arms at your waist and lean back against his chest. You feel his heartbeat, always racing, but steady. Sylus leans down and places a kiss to your temple before whispering into your ear.

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora

[goddessinnerglow]

Become Your Best Version Before 2025 - Day 24

Setting Up Progress Tracking Systems

Hey Goddesses! After exploring personal style yesterday, let's talk about something that can really amplify our growth journey, tracking our progress. But don't worry, we're not going to turn this into a complicated spreadsheet situation (unless that's your thing!).

That satisfying feeling when you can actually see how far you've come? That's what we're aiming for. Let's create a tracking system that feels natural and motivating, not like another chore on your to-do list.

Think about it, we've covered everything from confidence to personal style in this series, and you've probably made more progress than you realize. That's exactly why tracking matters, it helps us celebrate those wins we might otherwise miss.

Let's explore some simple but effective ways to track your growth:

The "One Line a Day" Method:

Keep a small notebook or digital note where you write just one line about your progress each day. It could be anything – "Spoke up in meeting today" or "Chose outfit that felt truly me." Simple, quick, but powerful when you look back.

Visual Progress Maps:

Create a simple chart or calendar where you mark days you took action toward your goals. Use different colors or symbols for different types of progress. Seeing those marks add up over time is incredibly motivating.

The Weekly Check-in:

Set aside 10 minutes every Sunday (or any day that works for you) to reflect on three things:

What went well this week?

What did I learn?

What do I want to focus on next week?

The Progress Photo Approach:

Not just for fitness goals! Take photos of your workspace as you organize it, screenshot positive feedback you receive, or document other visible signs of growth. Create an album called "Growth Journey 2025" on your phone.

Voice Memos:

Sometimes writing feels like too much. Try recording quick voice notes about your progress. "Hey future me, today I finally..." These can be incredibly powerful to listen back to.

Don't Forget these key principles:

Track what matters to you, not what others measure

Make it easy enough to stick with

Focus on progress, not perfection

Include both tangible and intangible wins

Keep it flexible, adjust your system as needed

Quick tip:

Link your tracking to something you already do daily. Maybe you check your progress while having your morning coffee or before your evening skincare routine (remember our self-care conversation?).

Today's Challenge:

Take 5 minutes to write down where you are now in any area you want to track. This becomes your baseline. In a month, you'll be amazed at the changes you notice.

See you tomorrow for Day 25! Remember, you can't manage what you don't measure, but keep it simple enough to stick with.

♡ ☆:.｡ Keep glowing, babes! ♡ ☆:.｡ With love, Goddess Inner Glow.

[yuurei20]

Hi YuuRei. How are you? This may be a rather big request, so there is no rush to answer right away, but do you know how may of Yuu’s answer options warrants different responses from the students/characters and which answer choices that happens with? Please, take your time since this would take some combing through in game. Thank you so much, I really appreciate it.

Hello hello! Thank you for this question! 🦐 It is done!

And thank you 1000 times to @hanafubukki and @irafuwas, without whom this series not have have been possible m(_ _)m

Prefect Dialogue Options in Twisted Wonderland: Prologue (pt1)

(note: these are not every single option that the player is given, only the options that result in different reactions! For other options reactions are the same regardless of what the player selects)

Option 1: A talking…weasel?! Grim: How… How DARE YOU! I am no WEASEL! I'm Grim, sorcerer extraordinaire! Tch. Whatever. You…human! Just gimme your uniform, and be quick about it!

Option 2: F-floating coffins?! Grim: Oh-ho! You got a lotta nerve ignoring me, human! The name's Grim. Believe me, you won't forget it! Now gimme your uniform, and be quick about it!

Option 1: S-somebody help! Grim: Hey, come on! I'm on a tight schedule here!

Option 2: Getting roasted alive by a weasel? What will I dream of next? Grim: Well keep dreamin', 'cause I ain't no weasel!

Option 1: So those coffins are like... gateways? Crowley: The design is intended to symbolize a parting with your former world, and a rebirth into a new one.

Option 2: I think something blew the lid off mine... Crowley: The culprit appears to be that familiar of yours. You're the one who insisted on bringing it, so curtailing its behavior is your responsibility!

Option 1: Why are you so determined to go to this school? n/a

Option 2: Guards! Guaaaaards! Grim: Hey! No! Bad human! BAD HUMAN! Ain't you gonna ask what I'm doin' here? That's what you people do, right? Talk about feelings and stuff?

Option 1: Would it be possible for Grim to stay with me? Grim: Whoa, did you just...?

Option 2: Grim would really like to go to this school. n/a

Option 1: I slept great! Crowley: I am delighted to hear that you've adjusted so well, despite being sent to another world!

Option 2: I didn't sleep well either! Crowley: Well, it's understandable you'd be anxious after being pulled into such an unfamiliar place. But the world can be cruel sometimes. So suck it up and move on!

[fluentmoviequoter]

Perfect Moments

hot cocoa bar celebration🧤❄️🎄 | requested here

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: While decorating the tree with Tim, you reminisce on perfect moments until you find yourself in another.

Warnings/Word Count: fluff, softie!Tim!! 0.8k+ words

“Did you purposely pick the hardest tree to decorate?” Tim complains as Christmas music fills the room.

“You picked this tree,” you remind him with a smile and a well-intentioned hip check.

“Because you liked it!”

“You mean because you love me.”

“Some days I really regret it.”

You exhale in faux hurt, then step back from the tree. “Looks good,” you decide with your hands on your hips. “Ready for ornaments?”

Tim nods. As he passes you, he kisses your temple. The song changes to “Snow Angel” before he returns, and you hum while you survey the tree, symbolizing a great year and the little life you’ve built with Tim.

“Here,” Tim says as he sets the container of ornaments on the coffee table. “I think we should start with this one."

You take his offered Hallmark ornament and smile. “I was terrified you wouldn’t like this,” you admit as you place it on the front of the tree. “Our relationship was so new, and I wanted something to remember our first Christmas, but had so many doubts about how well I knew you or how serious you were.”

“Wanna know a secret?” Tim whispers against your ear.

“Always.”

“I left it on my nightstand until March.”

“Such a softie,” you muse under your breath. “I take it back,” you add as Tim’s hands move toward your waist. “You’re a strong police officer and definitely not a big teddy bear.”

Tim rolls his eyes, still smiling, as he retrieves an ornament.

“Speaking of teddy bears,” he says. “I’m pretty sure this ornament was purchased because it reminded you of someone.”

“It’s you in ornament form and I’m sticking to that. The little flannel and the button heart? Absolutely reminds me of you.”

“Just get another ornament,” Tim deflects.

You laugh as you open a box. “Remember this guy?” you inquire as Anson Seabra sings, You’re my snow angel. Don’t let me go, angel.

“Remind me?” Tim asks.

Smiling, you know Tim remembers the Dodgers bulldog ornament. He picked it out during a shopping trip last Christmas because the dog was colored like Kojo and repping his favorite baseball team. When you got home, Tim took it out of the box to hang on the tree, then pulled you close to ask your opinion on where it should go. Kojo took Tim’s affection as an invitation to join you and walked through a tangled string of lights to join your side. Before you could stop Kojo and free him, he circled your legs and pulled you against Tim, knocking the ornament out of his hands. It should have broken, but it didn’t. You took that as a good sign.

“I might have a better one,” Tim says.

You walk to his side and smile at the hand-painted ornament. The pencil line separating the even halves is barely visible past the paint. Your impromptu home date night earlier in the year involved working together to create something beautiful without being able to see what the other person painted. The resulting ornament is one of your favorites.

“This is yours,” you comment as you pass Tim an ornament from his sister. “And this is mine.”

Your ornaments have slowly made their way in together, and it no longer feels like your decorations or Tim’s, but your shared memories and an opportunity to reminisce together for many Christmases to come.

“I’ll grab another,” Tim offers as you search for the perfect branch.

You nod and continue looking, then place the painted ornament next to the Dodgers bat ornament. Tim offers his hand, and you take the ornament from him without looking. Immediately, you know the square velvet item in your hand is not an ornament, but you don’t expect to see a ring box when you turn toward Tim to ask what it is.

Tim smiles up at you from his one-kneed position. With the song, he says, “I won’t ask for anything. No shiny toys or fancy things. ‘Cause I got everything I need with you here next to me. We’ve spent Christmas together, bad days and good days and all the mundane days in between, but they’re all special with you. I don’t want to just reminisce at Christmas, I want to make every single day a memory with you by my side. Will you marry me?”

You nod, the ornaments reflecting the Christmas lights blurring as your eyes grow teary. “Yes, Tim!” you answer.

Tim stands and pulls you into a kiss, then steps back to slide the ring on your finger.

“I actually do have another ornament for you to put up,” Tim says as you admire the perfect ring.

He passes you a silver box, and you extract the personalized ornament. It’s made to look like you, Tim, and Kojo are snowmen, and it says, She Said Yes with the year engraved beneath.

“You really thought of everything,” you muse. “Where should we put it?”

“Front and center,” Tim answers.

“Isn’t that where the mistletoe goes?” you joke, hanging the ornament in plain view.

“Who needs mistletoe?”

You don’t answer before Tim – your fiancé – pulls you into a kiss that warms you from the inside out while twinkling lights and merry music surround yet another perfect moment.

[s4kura-tr3]

Jjk men — spending Christmas with them

Gojo satoru

Spending Christmas with Gojo Satoru was always unpredictable—equal parts chaotic and heartwarming. From the moment December rolled around, he would go all in on the festivities. He’d insist on decorating the apartment with lights so bright they could probably be seen from space, and he’d spend hours picking out the biggest, most dramatic tree he could find.

On Christmas morning, you’d wake up to the scent of something burning. Gojo had tried to make breakfast—again. He stood in the kitchen, still in his Christmas pajamas, grinning sheepishly while holding a pan of what might have been pancakes.

“Good morning, sunshine!” he chirped, completely ignoring the mess he’d made. “Guess who’s been hard at work making a special Christmas feast?”

You arched a brow. “Hard at work burning it?”

“Tough crowd,” he sighed, setting the pan down before spinning you around for a dramatic hug. “You’re lucky I’m cute, or I’d be offended.”

After salvaging breakfast (with your help), he’d drag you to the couch for an excessive gift exchange. Gojo loved to spoil you—there was no stopping him—and you’d find yourself buried under boxes of carefully chosen (and some very expensive) presents.

“Satoru,” you’d say, holding up a designer item you didn’t even know you wanted. “You went overboard.”

“Overboard? Me? Never,” he said, plopping down beside you and pulling you into his lap. “Besides, seeing your face light up makes it worth every yen.”

Once the chaos of the morning settled, the two of you would spend the day lounging together. He’d suggest watching classic Christmas movies, though he’d inevitably talk through most of them, cracking jokes or mimicking the characters with dramatic flair.

In the evening, Gojo would insist on taking you out to see the city lights. “C’mon,” he’d say, lacing his fingers with yours. “What’s Christmas without a little adventure?”

Bundled up against the cold, you’d wander through the streets, marveling at the glowing decorations. Gojo would take your hand and twirl you under every mistletoe you passed, stealing kisses with that mischievous grin of his.

By the time you returned home, the night would be quiet, the soft glow of the Christmas tree casting a warm light over the room. Gojo would pull you onto the couch, wrapping you in his arms as you sipped hot chocolate together.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he’d whisper, his voice unusually soft as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Thanks for putting up with all my chaos.”

And in that moment, with his arms around you and his love shining brighter than any decoration, you’d know there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

Geto Suguru

Christmas with Geto Suguru was a warm, quiet affair—one that felt like a perfect blend of simplicity and love. He wasn’t the type to go overboard, but everything he did had a touch of thoughtfulness that made the day feel magical.

The morning started with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and something sweet wafting through the air. You found him in the kitchen, wearing a cozy sweater, his hair tied back as he flipped pancakes in the pan.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he greeted, his warm smile making you feel instantly at ease. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

“Breakfast first,” he said, playfully swatting at your hands, “then you can shower me with love.”

The two of you ate together, sharing quiet conversation and laughing when Suguru teased you for getting powdered sugar on your face. “You’re like a little kid,” he said, leaning over to wipe it off gently.

After breakfast, it was time for presents. Suguru had a way of making every gift feel deeply personal. The small box you unwrapped held a bracelet with charms that symbolized moments you’d shared together.

“I know it’s not much,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “but I wanted you to have something meaningful.”

“It’s perfect,” you said, leaning in to kiss him softly.

Later in the day, the two of you bundled up and headed outside to take a walk in the crisp winter air. Suguru held your hand the entire time, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles as you wandered through quiet streets adorned with twinkling lights.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he said, looking up at the sky. “Peaceful. Simple. Just how I like it.”

When you got home, the evening was spent curled up together in front of the fireplace. Suguru lit a few candles, their soft glow adding to the cozy atmosphere. He pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you as you sipped hot chocolate together.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured against your hair, his voice low and tender.

You tilted your head to look at him, his expression calm and full of affection. “Merry Christmas, Suguru,” you replied, leaning in for a kiss.

In his embrace, with the warmth of the fire and the quiet love between you, it felt like time had slowed down. With Suguru, every moment was special, but Christmas with him? It was pure magic.

Nanami kento

Christmas with Nanami Kento was a mix of quiet tradition and heartfelt moments, perfectly reflecting his personality. He wasn’t one for grand displays or over-the-top celebrations, but the effort he put into making the day special showed just how much he cared.

The morning started with the soft hum of holiday music playing in the background as the scent of fresh coffee filled the air. Nanami, ever the early riser, had already set the table with a simple but elegant breakfast: warm croissants, fresh fruit, and your favorite tea.

“Good morning,” he greeted, his voice gentle as he handed you a steaming cup. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, smiling as you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

After breakfast, he insisted you take your time, enjoying the quiet comfort of the morning. The tree in the corner of the room was modestly decorated, its soft lights casting a warm glow. Beneath it were a few carefully wrapped gifts—none extravagant, but each chosen with care.

When you sat down to exchange gifts, Nanami’s attention was fully on you. He’d picked something practical yet thoughtful—a leather-bound journal because he knew how much you loved to write, accompanied by a fountain pen engraved with your initials.

“I wanted you to have something meaningful,” he said softly, watching as you turned the pen over in your hands.

“It’s perfect, Kento,” you said, leaning forward to kiss him.

For the rest of the day, Nanami kept things low-key but meaningful. He’d planned a quiet walk through the park, where the snow blanketed the ground in pristine white. Holding your hand, he led you down the path, his calm presence grounding you as you admired the winter scenery.

Back home, he prepared dinner—nothing fancy, but every dish was made with care. He poured two glasses of wine and pulled out a chair for you, his small but thoughtful gestures making the evening feel intimate and special.

As the night wound down, the two of you curled up on the couch with a blanket, the crackle of the fireplace filling the room. Nanami held you close, one hand resting on your back as he traced slow, soothing circles.

“You’ve made this Christmas perfect,” you murmured, your voice soft against his chest.

He smiled faintly, pressing a kiss to your hair. “That’s all I wanted,” he said simply.

With Nanami, Christmas wasn’t about grand gestures or flashy decorations—it was about the quiet, steadfast love he showed in every moment. And that made it more special than anything else ever could.

Toji fushiguro

Spending Christmas Day with Toji and little Megumi was a mix of subtle warmth and unexpected moments of joy. Toji wasn’t the type to get overly sentimental about holidays, but for Megumi—and for you—he made the day special in his own understated way.

The morning started with Megumi excitedly running into the living room to inspect the gifts under the tree. Toji, still lounging on the couch with a coffee mug in hand, smirked at the sight of his son’s excitement.

“Did Santa do a good job this year?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

Megumi nodded eagerly as he dove into the pile of gifts, pulling out a box wrapped in slightly crumpled paper (courtesy of Toji’s halfhearted attempt at wrapping). “Look, Dad! A puzzle!”

Toji leaned forward, pretending to inspect it. “Hmm. Think you’re smart enough to solve that?”

“Of course I am!” Megumi declared with confidence, earning a low chuckle from Toji.

You couldn’t help but smile at the exchange. Toji had grumbled about the whole idea of Christmas earlier in the month, but it was clear he enjoyed watching Megumi light up with joy.

After helping Megumi with his gifts, Toji casually reached under the tree and pulled out a small box, tossing it into your lap. “Here,” he said, almost gruffly.

You blinked in surprise, looking at the box. “You got me something?”

“Don’t make it a big deal,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

Inside was a delicate necklace, simple but stunning—a piece that felt undeniably you. Your heart swelled as you looked up at him. “Toji… it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

He shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “Figured you deserved something nice. Don’t get used to it.” But the small smirk on his face betrayed how much he enjoyed seeing you happy.

Breakfast was simple but cozy. Toji, surprisingly, had taken the lead in the kitchen, making his signature scrambled eggs while you set the table. Megumi happily munched on his food, already planning out how he was going to spend the day with his new toys.

After breakfast, Toji suggested heading out to the nearby park. “Let the kid burn off some energy,” he said, pulling on his coat.

In the park, the three of you played in the snow. Toji tried to act indifferent, but it wasn’t long before he was helping Megumi build a snow fort—and then, inevitably, a snowball fight broke out.

“Alright, kid, you asked for it,” Toji said with a smirk, lobbing a snowball with perfect aim. Megumi shrieked with laughter, retaliating as you joined in on his side.

By the time you headed home, all three of you were covered in snow but laughing. Back inside, Toji made hot chocolate while you and Megumi curled up under a blanket on the couch.

As the evening rolled around, the three of you sat together in front of the Christmas tree, the room lit with the soft glow of the lights. Megumi was busy working on his puzzle, occasionally asking for help, while Toji leaned back with an arm around your shoulders.

“This isn’t so bad,” Toji murmured, glancing at you with a faint smirk.

“You mean Christmas?” you teased, resting your head against him.

He shrugged, looking at Megumi as the boy concentrated. “Yeah. It’s nice.”

Later that night, when Megumi had finally fallen asleep on the couch, you found Toji quietly adjusting the blanket around him, his expression softer than usual.

“You’re a good dad, you know,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

Toji scoffed lightly, though you caught the faintest smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t go getting sentimental on me now.”

But as he pulled you close, the warmth in his touch said everything he wouldn’t say out loud. Christmas with Toji and Megumi wasn’t traditional or picture-perfect, but it was filled with love—and that made it perfect in its own way.

Sukuna ryomen

Spending Christmas with Sukuna was far from the warm, traditional holiday you might have imagined, but it carried a unique charm that only he could bring. Sukuna wasn’t exactly the festive type—mocking the idea of “holiday cheer” more than once—but when it came to you, there was an unspoken softness beneath his sharp edges that made the day special in its own way.

The morning started with Sukuna lounging on the couch, his crimson eyes fixed on the flickering lights of the Christmas tree. You had insisted on putting one up, despite his grumbles about it being “pointless.”

“You’re staring at it awfully long for something you called ridiculous,” you teased, handing him a mug of coffee.

He snorted, taking the cup without looking at you. “I’m trying to figure out why humans get so worked up over this nonsense.”

“You’ll never admit it, but you like it,” you shot back with a grin, sitting beside him.

Sukuna didn’t respond, but the faintest smirk tugged at his lips as he sipped his coffee.

Later, as you opened the small pile of gifts under the tree, Sukuna sat back with his arms crossed, watching you with a mixture of amusement and feigned disinterest. When you got to the final gift—a box with an unfamiliar wrapping style—you raised an eyebrow at him.

“You got me something?” you asked, surprised.

He shrugged, his tone nonchalant. “Don’t make it a big deal. Just open it.”

Inside was a stunning piece of jewelry—bold yet elegant, perfectly suited to your taste. It wasn’t overly flashy, but it carried a weight of meaning, like Sukuna himself.

You looked up at him, your heart warming. “Sukuna… thank you.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he replied, though his smirk softened slightly. “Consider it a reward for putting up with me.”

After lunch, which Sukuna insisted he wouldn’t help with (“I’m not here to play house,” he’d said), the two of you ended up outside in the snow. You threw a snowball at him on a whim, earning a sharp glare and a low growl.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he warned, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

Before you could blink, he launched a snowball back at you with near-perfect accuracy, sending you stumbling back with a laugh. What followed was a chaotic snowball fight, with Sukuna proving that his combat skills extended even to playful battles.

“You’re cheating!” you cried, dodging another perfectly aimed throw.

He smirked, standing tall and smug. “There’s no cheating in war, woman.”

By the evening, the two of you had settled into a comfortable quiet. The fire crackled softly, and the tree’s lights reflected in Sukuna’s sharp eyes as he sat beside you, one arm draped lazily across the back of the couch.

“This is nice,” you murmured, leaning against him.

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re easily pleased.”

“And you secretly enjoy this,” you countered, glancing up at him with a knowing smile.

Sukuna didn’t deny it, which was as close to agreement as you’d get. Instead, he pulled you closer, his voice low and teasing. “You’re lucky I tolerate your ridiculous traditions.”

With Sukuna, Christmas wasn’t about the usual festivities or sentimentality. It was about the quiet moments of understanding, the rare glimpses of his softer side, and the way he let his guard down just enough to show you how much you meant to him—even if he’d never say it outright.

Megumi Fushiguro

Spending Christmas with Megumi Fushiguro was a quiet, heartfelt affair, just like him. He wasn’t someone who indulged in over-the-top celebrations or cheesy traditions, but he made an effort in his own understated way to make the day special for you both.

The morning began slowly, with the soft light of the tree illuminating the living room. Megumi had woken up early to let the dogs out, and by the time you stirred, he was already back inside, a mug of hot coffee waiting for you on the table.

“Morning,” he said softly, glancing at you from where he stood by the window, watching the snow fall.

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, smiling as you wrapped yourself in a blanket and joined him.

The two of you exchanged gifts after breakfast. Megumi had been subtle in asking about what you might like, so you were surprised when you opened the small, neatly wrapped box to find a thoughtful present inside—a beautiful book you’d mentioned wanting and a warm scarf in your favorite color.

“I noticed your old one’s falling apart,” he said, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s perfect,” you said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Megumi.”

You had gotten him a gift as well—a leather notebook for his thoughts and a pair of gloves to keep his hands warm during the colder months. He thanked you with a small, genuine smile, his quiet gratitude making your heart swell.

Later, the two of you took the dogs for a walk in the snow. Megumi didn’t say much, but his content expression and the way he held your hand spoke volumes. The two of you walked in companionable silence, enjoying the peacefulness of the day as the dogs bounded through the snow.

Back home, you prepared a simple dinner together. Megumi wasn’t much of a cook, but he stayed by your side, helping where he could and listening to your stories. He even cracked a rare joke, his quiet laugh making you smile.

The evening ended with the two of you curled up on the couch, the dogs resting at your feet. The soft glow of the Christmas tree filled the room as you leaned against Megumi, his arm resting lightly around your shoulders.

“This is nice,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the tree. “Yeah. It is.”

For Megumi, Christmas wasn’t about extravagant gestures or loud festivities—it was about the quiet moments spent with someone he cared about. And in those moments, you could feel how deeply he loved you, even if he didn’t always say it out loud.

Yuji itadori

Spending Christmas with Yuji Itadori was an explosion of energy, laughter, and warmth. His enthusiasm for the holiday was contagious, turning every moment into an adventure. Christmas with Yuji was always filled with spontaneous joy, and despite his boisterous nature, you couldn’t help but feel how much he treasured the time spent with you.

The morning began early, as Yuji was practically bouncing off the walls from excitement. “Wake up! It’s Christmas!” he shouted, pulling the blankets off the bed before you had even opened your eyes.

You groaned, pulling the covers back over your head, but Yuji wasn’t having it. “Come on! Let’s open presents!” he begged, practically dragging you out of bed.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his childlike enthusiasm. As you made your way to the living room, you saw the tree you’d decorated together—Yuji had insisted on adding a ridiculous amount of tinsel and more lights than necessary, but it made the whole room feel alive with holiday spirit.

When you sat down to open gifts, Yuji handed you his first, a goofy grin on his face. “I hope you like it!” he said excitedly. Inside was a hand-drawn sketchbook—something he’d carefully chosen after hearing you mention wanting to start a new hobby.

“Yuji… this is really thoughtful,” you said, surprised by how much care he’d put into it.

His face lit up. “I thought you’d like it! I know you’ve been talking about drawing more.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of the gesture, and you handed him your own gift—a warm hoodie you knew he’d wear constantly. He gasped in excitement and immediately put it on, pulling the hood over his head like he was ready to take on the world.

“Best gift ever!” Yuji said, giving you a hug. “Thank you!”

After breakfast, you both went outside to enjoy the snow. Yuji immediately started a snowball fight, targeting you with a grin. “Bet you can’t dodge this!” he yelled, launching a snowball at you.

You ducked just in time, retaliating with one of your own. It quickly turned into a full-blown battle, with you both laughing and running around in the snow like kids. Yuji’s laughter filled the air, and even though he was competitive, it was clear he was just happy to be spending the day with you.

Later, as the evening came, you both settled in front of the Christmas tree, exhausted but happy. Yuji had convinced you to watch one of his favorite holiday movies, and though it was cheesy, you couldn’t help but enjoy the silly jokes and the way Yuji got so into it.

“This is the best Christmas ever!” Yuji said, practically glowing as he leaned back into the couch with a bowl of popcorn.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of the moment. “I think so too, Yuji.”

As the night wound down, Yuji pulled you close, his arm around you as you both watched the lights on the tree twinkle. He was quiet for a moment, before he turned to you with a serious expression.

“Hey… thanks for spending Christmas with me,” he said softly. “It means a lot.”

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. “Of course, Yuji. You make Christmas unforgettable.”

With Yuji, Christmas wasn’t about perfect plans or quiet moments—it was about sharing your joy, your laughter, and the simple happiness of being with someone who made every day feel like a celebration.

[hermanoga]

Vortex We Took Every Breath to Follow : Shiguang and Their Companionship Through Life and Beyond

@justfrolikin I hope this will be a suitable reply to the question you asked; what I think about the nature of the bond Shiguang share.

First, a few words from me :

Even though I love engaging in fandom spaces and enjoy ship fanarts, fanfictions etc, till today my heart truly belongs to a very few ships. Shiguang is one of them. As long as one is not blinded by homophobic delusions, I enjoy discussing any kind of interpretation of my OTPs, be it 'Platonic', just friends™, romantic or whatever. But I have a fixed category (which very ironically is not quite fixed if you read the whole discussion) that fulfills my idea of true love.

for me, Love is a dialogic discourse with your existential other.

The terms I used are very loaded terms; 'dialogue' and 'other' come from the Bakhtinian philosophy of ethics, 'discourse' is a Foucauldian term and existentialism has a long postmodern and post-structuralist philosophical tradition. The reason I LOVE Link Click is because of their postmodern lens and the narratives of the characters, not only the protagonists fundamentally question what is the real purpose of life? Why do human bondings matter? The answers reside in the simplest vignette of everyday life. Grief, trauma, hope, memory, reconciliation, remembrance, love, family - these are the central themes of Link Click. Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi's separate existence and their interpersonal dialogue thematically and structurally complements the main ethos of Link Click.

When asked about the nature of Shiguang relationship Director Li Haoling answered : 是生死之交咯! (Shì shēngsǐ zhī jiāo gē! - It's a life and death relationship!)

source :

Fate, mortality, death, remembrance are the building blocks of their relationship as we perceive it.

Now let me talk about something. When I first watched Link Click on September 17th, 2024, the first Intertexual connection I drew was with another text called Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett. Funnily enough, early in this year I wrote a crossover Hamlet adaptation (and won the second prize in a competition hehe) interweaving a few elements from Godot. Time loop, fragmentation of time and space, panopticon with no exit - all these elements featured in that. I recommend Waiting for Godot to you all, you'll understand why it resonates so much with Link Click.

Now,

Lu Guang is a person who is shown to be a character who has some mysterious powers to manipulate time and space. Even from the very beginning, he has this dominant (and sometimes seemingly monologic that feels problematic to new viewers) voice with which he guides Cheng Xiaoshi through the dives. He is apparently headstrong and has acquired all kinds of praises ™ like hypocrite, selfish (lol) and what not. Again quoting Li Haoling "Lu Guang is a complex and delicate character." But after the release of 'The Eye' and 'The Lull', I think we are pretty sure that Lu Guang has been trapped in a rewind, like a Sisyphus figure. A friend of mine told me the other day, "Superficially, Lu Guang is presented as an archetypal strategist, the one who guides, the one who keeps things in control, but in reality, he has no agency whatsoever." Lu Guang lacks the fundamental agency in life (we all do but we have to accept it one day or other) and that mortifying realisation comes to him with the death of Cheng Xiaoshi. What is unacceptable to him is the most obvious outcome of a mortal life : death. Lu Guang's tragic flaw stems from this unacceptability of Cheng Xiaoshi's death and him attempting to manipulate time, very Sisyphus of him. Till now, we are yet to see Lu Guang's character traits without any reference to Cheng Xiaoshi but this does not reduce his character depth. His denial is actually very delicious ( I almost wrote a paper on this, taking the popular sci-fi trope of time travel as an allegorical and symbolic means of resistance and subversion but anyway, it's not relevant here)

Lu Guang's character makes me fall in love with the song Flash by Gorilla Attack. It is from Lu Guang's character, no one can convince me otherwise.

Just a loop A bored 'n loop Should I do this now 'til the end? Into the story As just an extra You are the reason I live But you don't remember me? Oh, can I be with you?

And

The only thing that I got, just like a little lamp I gotta go in one-way smoke Resist the lifeless scenario Become the person The person I wished for that day The room like a coffin, too bright A groove that I lost faraway Blanket, I need a blanket Not a synthetic one Notice the regret engraved so hard

And the line that keeps coming back as a haunting refrain :

Flash me, flash me Gotta get the power to rewrite I just wanna deny, I just wanna rewrite, yeah

Every time I listen to this song, these lines send a chill down my spine. But Lu Guang's obsession with 'rewrite' echoes with what my professor said to be Hamlet's constant meta-theatrical discomfort with the script, role, play he has been provided with. He does not comply with the playwright's words. Apart from time and death, I think Lu Guang's most wretched enemy is Li Haoling himself. That's why he constantly wants to 'rewrite', but all he has got till now is 'rewind'. Now whether his 'urge to rewrite' will turn into a successful 'write back' is the central play of the plot we are looking up to. What is my personal opinion on the ending?

The ending which is so dryly plausible in our real world is Lu Guang accepting his defeat and carries within him the remembrance of Cheng Xiaoshi.

But my question is, my brother in Buddhism Li Haoling, why the fuck would I watch your Link Click to know that death is the node that can't be changed? Is it not the given fact? It's a cultural text, however modern or postmodern a text might be, it ultimately uses the plot to defamiliarise and convey well known concepts and emotions with a critical engagement. A plot is just a vehicle, a crucial one, to help us have a greater and more nuanced vision of life. Due to non-linear narrative and active subversion of chronotope, complex plot will have plot twists and cliffhangers BUT it still has to perform a crucial, non negotiable role - the arc. If the beginning point and the ending point have the same temperaments, what kind of significance will it even achieve?

If Lu Guang can't write back at the end of Link Click, the structure of the plot will be like this :

1. Exposition, rising action : Cheng Xiaoshi died at the very beginning, Lu Guang is fucked.

2. Climactic stage : shit and shit and complex quantum physics, hallelujah hot villains, 'I am a great writer I can kill any character TeeeHeeeeHeeee', backstories, parallel narratives, foil characters have no relevance and rendered completely meaningless,

3. Falling action and resolution : Cheng Xiaoshi is still dead to the very ending, Lu Guang is still fucked.

No catharsis, not a milimeter of displacement from the beginning point.

What is the fucking point?! From the perspective of a writer and a critical reader, I can say it will be a sheer waste of money, time and potential. I would rather watch... whatever.

The friend I mentioned before told me, " You know why Emma or Chen Bin die? They had to die. Emma had a loving family, she got the job she wanted, she had her hardships but she didn't begin with tragedy. And when tragedy came, she was so not ready to negotiate the problem and considered self-annihilation as her first choice. She actively erased the possibility of dialogue with herself. If Emma were an orphan, struggling with unemployment and other hardships from the very beginning, I don't think Emma would die that easily. Emma was denied the conflict of life which very ironically tests human agency itself."

And for Chen Bin...during my first watch, the moment I saw him my instincts told me he was going to die. He had a loving wife, a daughter, he loved her, she accepted the proposal and they married soon. Conflict where? To bring his story to a full circle, he had to die.

I can say every parallel story in Link Click can be judged from this lens. People who had a point of conflict (the noodle lesbians, the couple who lost their child, Xu Shanshan, that old man) engaged in dialogue with themselves, others and social forces ultimately got a happy ending. Even in the earthquake episode, it's a story of reconciliation with the past, the man got his mother's photos and it's plausible and satisfying (and bittersweet resolution). He got his (absent) father back.

Another thing, we as a fandom have a collective amnesia about....*drumrolls* Cheng Xiaoshi's character! Congratulations! The man, the freaking protagonist just dies at the beginning, accepts his death, and remains dead. Doomed yaoi allegations are just nonsense. Link Click is doomed if Shiguang doesn't get a happy ending. Link Click is NOT a dramatic monologue told from Lu Guang's perspective, engaging with his perpetual trance of melancholy and him holding onto Cheng Xiaoshi's memento mori.

If Lu Guang is attempting to write back to Li Haoling and the doomed yaoi allegations, Cheng is attempting to write back to Lu Guang himself, not in confirming his own death, but saving Lu Guang from the loop of eternity and by being together. Cheng Xiaoshi is always seen to be guided by Lu Guang, he has to witness repercussions of his actions. Even with all this knowledge I will say, Cheng Xiaoshi has way more agency than Lu Guang has. During my first watch, I could feel Lu Guang has this barrier of guilt and unsettled emotions wrapped around him which denies Cheng Xiaoshi access into the deepest core of his subjectivity. Even though he achingly wishes to be together with Cheng Xiaoshi, the burden of his past actions and PTSD holds him back from being together with him, as if his existence is antithetical to Cheng Xiaoshi's existence. Cheng Xiaoshi is that glitch in the matrix that messes up Lu Guang's plans of withdrawing himself from Cheng Xiaoshi. Cheng Xiaoshi should not listen to everything Lu Guang orders. In season 1, he mostly conforms to Lu Guang's ideals, but in season 2, when Lu Guang was hospitalised, Cheng Xiaoshi became more active and you could tell a layer of barrier melted away. He was less of a stone statue, showed more emotions (the S2ep1 lmao when he said "would you prefer if I die?" abhimaan we call it), then the unique high five that feels like Lu Guang accepting Cheng Xiaoshi's proposal or something :

(LMAO ignore my comments, but what I said is true)

My point is, Cheng Xiaoshi is Lu Guang's existential other and vice versa. They cannot live without each other. They cannot exist without each other. If one dies, the other will die and I want them living happily ever after in heaven. Cause 'Break' clearly depicts them as soulmates. I personally take Break as the ultimate canonical ending

Do you see? each of them has one wing missing, meaning that it's their cumulative effort that will make them fly successfully. FYI, there is another Haoling directed, Haoliners Animation League animated canonical queer donghua called 'Beryl and Sapphire'. A separate episode, episode 13 just explores this 'one wing soulmate trope'.

Now take them as friends, platonic friends with no erotic feelings, pure familial feelings or whatever, they are like Yin and Yang, like Shiv and Shakti, and Yin changes to Yang and Yang changes to Yin actively as they interact. You will have a hard time pointing out who is who. I have watched TGCF and Beryl and Sapphire and a tiny bit of Spiritpact - all three directed by Li Haoling and I am well aware of his narrative strategy to represent soulmates and Link Click seems to be the one of the greatest (and my favourite) product of that genius mind.

I began with team Lu Guang cause he is a scorpio, I understand him, his birthday almost coincides with mine, we share some identical issues. But the fandom's often yeeting Cheng Xiaoshi out of the narrative phenomenon brought back my due attention to him. Is Cheng Xiaoshi so willing to be doomed? Does he not yearn to be with Lu Guang? Let me whisper to your ear...he yearns for him too.

so he

does understand that the person who dies...dies, death affects them the least who dies, it's the people, the family and loved ones who actually suffer. This man will leave his Lu Guang on his own volition? eh.

Also I wanna talk about Link Click's strategy of deliberate misdirection. The first and second seasons are so deliberately crafted (manipulation of narrative you can say) to actively erase Lu Guang's subjectivity and nuance. We are just denied access his perspective. He is mysterious but not that aligns itself with a viewer's emotions. In fact, during my recent re-watch, I felt "wtf Lu Guang, why are you interacting with Cheng Xiaoshi like a straight dudebro?" He is a menace, the kind I usually don't like. But there also seemed to be a critical undercurrent which I couldn't really grasp, but it was surely there. It was adding up to my increasing discomfort and made me question - "was it just my wishful projection? they do not share that bond at all." I was so pissed at that thought that I almost decided I am not gonna abandon Link Click. BUT BRO, BRO

'The Eye' and 'Lull' just blew my mind. I was not that affected by Cheng Xiaoshi's corpse advertisement agenda (that corpse is drawing people's attention who is suddenly aware of Yingdu release, great tactic, Haoling) what pleasantly brought me out of despair is Lu Guang's love for Cheng Xiaoshi was acknowledged in these songs. You will read between the lines on your own in season 1 and season 2 if you have that critical method to engage with a cultural text, but the silencing narrative was also very prominent. I very much felt that the Shiguang story is actually the central action, and not the creative sci-fi archtexual exercise of genres, which again, is just the vehicle. But The Eye and Lull focus upon them, them and them. Their emotions are acknowledged, they are no longer behind the veils of symbolism, parallel narratives, intense defamiliarisation; their emotional dialogue now not only demands a voice of their own but also has the potential to reclaim the central part of the stage as they struggle and negotiate power and agency. And I am here for it.

@guangshi-091305 I present to you my rubbish.

[helluverse-rewrites]

kind of random but ! viv desperately needs to try smth other than animal motifs for her symbolism. I know animals are an easy choice for things like that, but her dependence on it is a (small) part of what makes her designs so ass.

It gets to the point to where characters have the same motif and for what? They're not connected. The least she could do is make them connected. (for example in my hazbin hotel redesigns i made all the angels have bird motifs. vaggie is a dove, adam is a rooster, lucifer a duck) I know kemonomimis and furries are fun to draw but sometimes its just plain confusing and overused. Esp when she puts more focus on that than shapes or colors or even personality sometimes! I guess I'd love to see more characters based on objects or even common phrases, fairytales, time periods, abstract concepts. Yk? There are more of these in helluva boss (even though theyre highly LACKING), some background characters are like this in hazbin. I can see the 7 sins are somewhat based on their concept, but again its lacking, because she always goes back to her animal things. And I know this whole helluverse started out with zoophobia or wtv but cmon. Whys valentino a moth? I dont know any symbolism of the moth that ties in with val, or even how he died. He'd generally be better as a shadow or a puppet master, given hes deceptive and manipulative. The animal motifs often feel tacked on, too. Like a last minute thought, or like a design first-story later thing. Which even if they are, it shouldn't feel that way. It's really just a pet peeve of mine I guess because a lot of people including 14 yr old me thought these characters were soooo high concept and unique when really they somehow have worse design principals/patterns than Spongebob (not an insult to my boy spongebob though, theyre all just sea creatures they dont need to be high concept). Animals are literally the most overused, easy way to tell the audience something (or nothing). Like jesus christ its like whatever goal they have for a character they go hmmmmmm this is hard Ill just give them cat ears ^^.

Oh my god you're right

Angel Dust doesn't even look like a spider, and Alastor looks nothing like a deer. Istg the Valentino concept is way more interesting than whatever Viv did

You're telling me that Asmodeus is supposed to be a rooster. Likely story but okay Ig :/

I just think that the shows could've branched out a bit more than just animals

[blossom-shy]

From Shadows to Sunlight

----------------------------------------------

Dazai Osamu x female Reader

Summary: The Port Mafia's executive office used to feel cold and dark, reflecting Dazai's turmoil hidden behind a mask of indifference. Once, he had explained his attachment to the darkness, but now, in the bright halls of the Armed Detective Agency, he had transformed, sporting a playful demeanor and a starkly different outfit. Despite his cheerful antics to escape paperwork, remnants of his darker past still lingered, manifesting in reflective moments on the rooftop. However, as you spent time with him, you noticed a significant shift; his focus had moved from despair to appreciating the small joys of life. The balance between his shadows and the light of newfound happiness became evident as he expressed his changing perspective on the world. Ultimately, this transformation did not erase his essence but added depth to his character, showcasing that meaningful change is about embracing new ways to be oneself. Laughter and shared experiences painted the sky of their relationship in vibrant colors, symbolizing hope and renewal.

-----------------------------------------------The Port Mafia's executive office felt colder than usual that night. You remembered how Dazai used to sit there, draped in black, a carefully crafted mask of indifference hiding the turmoil beneath. His bandages were always pristine, but his eyes held shadows deeper than the harbor waters.

"Why do you stay?" you had asked him once, voice barely above a whisper in that dark office.

He had simply smiled, that empty smile that never reached his eyes. "Because the darkness is familiar."

But that was then.

Now, standing in the bright halls of the Armed Detective Agency, you watched as Dazai lounged on the office couch, his white shirt a stark contrast to his former attire. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, catching the playful glint in his eyes as he dodged Kunikida's exasperated attempts to make him complete his paperwork.

"[Name]-chan!" he called out cheerfully, using you as an excuse to escape his partner's lecture. "Save me from this workaholic!"

You couldn't help but smile, remembering how different things had been. The transition hadn't been easy – there were still nights when you'd find him on the roof, staring at the city lights with that distant look in his eyes. But those moments grew rarer with each passing day.

"Some things never change," you said, watching him dramatically hide behind you. "Still avoiding work?"

"Ah, but now I avoid it with style!" He grinned, and this time it reached his eyes, warm and genuine. "Besides, wouldn't you rather get coffee with me? I know this wonderful little café..."

Kunikida threw his hands up in defeat, muttering about impossible partners and wasted potential.

The weight of the past still lingered sometimes, like a shadow at sunset. But as you walked with Dazai through Yokohama's bustling streets, watching him point out shapes in the clouds and dramatically recite poetry about the beauty of life (while still occasionally suggesting absurd suicide pacts), you realized something had fundamentally shifted.

The darkness hadn't completely left him – perhaps it never would. But now it was balanced with light, like the play of shadows and sunshine through cherry blossoms. His jokes about death became less frequent, replaced by observations about the small joys in life: the perfect cup of coffee, the way seagulls danced above the harbor, the satisfaction of solving a particularly challenging case.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, pausing at the waterfront, "I used to think the world was painted only in shades of gray. But it's actually quite colorful, isn't it?"

You nodded, understanding the weight behind those simple words. The transformation hadn't erased who he was – the brilliant strategist, the perceptive observer of human nature. Instead, it had added new layers, like watercolors bleeding into each other to create something unexpected and beautiful.

"Though I still think Kunikida-kun's obsession with schedules is a bit much," he added with a wink, breaking the moment of seriousness in typical Dazai fashion.

And as you laughed together, the setting sun painting the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks, you realized that sometimes the most meaningful changes weren't about becoming a different person, but about finding new ways to be yourself.

-----------------------------------------------

I'm so sorry for a long summary and I hope you love it

[asarigg]

Body for Sale: a second reading of a disturbing past (csa)

Well, this part of the essay is the one where I imply a possible sexual assault towards Koujaku when he was a teenager, but since I was hesitant at first of talking more about it because I didn't want to be insensitive I made it shorter than originally intended. I was encouraged to expand a little bit on it, so I edited it. Since the post is already kinda long, I thought of doing a separate post for those interested. Please don't hesitate to correct me if you deem it needed.

I’ve sometimes wondered if there was some sort of sexual abuse on Ryuuhou’s part towards Koujaku. Nothing is implied canonically, at least physically, but the erotic connotations of the story of the tattoo artist he’s based on, the sadism, the drugging in order to do something non-consensually, and his constant references to love make me think of it happening on a symbolic level. I think it’s obvious that Ryuuhou loves Koujaku, in his own way, as his creation, and he’s talking about love at first sight and the similarity of love and hate. Besides, the way Koujaku acts can be easily associated with it.

Even though he appears to be charming and flirty, he actually has a very low self-esteem, seeing himself as worthless, dirty, and constantly self-blaming for what happened. His tattoo being his shame and filth, something he doesn’t want to taint Aoba with, works just as an allegory of victims so commonly feeling guilty and dirty (causing them to shower more regularly than before in an attempt to wash it away). He shows unconformity when Aoba wants to touch him in bed (something that with time and the support of a loved one gets a little better), and when he tries to touch and wash away his dirt, his shame, his tattoo, Koujaku jumps at contact, which could also be interpreted as having a flashback as part of his ptsd.

All the anger he feels inside could also be part of the consequences. And he mostly shows his hatred towards Ryuuhou, even though his father is supposedly still alive and was the one who did the most damage to them, especially his mother, whom he cared about the most. At the end of the day Ryuuhou “just” did the tattoo and his father has been treating them like that for years. So why does he tunnel all his rage only to him? Budget and time limit reasons? Maybe, but in this essay we’re not taking that. Obviously Ryuuhou was the one that made him lose it, torturing him ever since the beginning only to anger him, ultimately causing the death of his mother. Maybe he was too used to see his father being aggressive with them, something to be expected, kind of like how it's established that men are more violence driven and women are emotion driven. But it can also be read as the response Koujaku had to a possible abuse. Physical punishment was to be expected, but sexual abuse?

Ryuuhou took advantage of his situation, to stop him from resisting he could always use his mother. We’ve already seen Ryuuhou being referenced as male and Koujaku as the female counterpart, being lovers and enemies at the same time, with the female being associated with the powerless, abused victim, submissive, and being controlled by the male, as disgusting as it sounds. Ever since he was tattooed his body did not belong to him anymore, Ryuuhou made sure to mark his body and mind so that he could never forget him. He could have found refuge in his religious practices as well.

There’s always stigma around these cases, and the stigma around male victims makes it especially harder for them to speak about what happened to them. That sense of powerlessness, of losing control, of being less of a man, causing them having trouble with their identity, all of it is wrapped in toxic masculinity. And all of this is seen in Koujaku. He keeps all his feelings for himself, feeling distant from other people and engaging in a lonely way of life.

There are people that report having trouble with their relationships with others not only because of the trauma that happened to them, but also out of fear of doing that very same thing to someone else.

This traumatic event usually makes victims apprehensive of any sexual activity, but there’s a considerable large number of victims that, opposite to this, develop hypersexuality. His sexual life is more important to Koujaku's character than it may seem at first (like it's just a quirk of him), he sees his body as a tool for the pleasure of others, meanwhile his own pleasure is not important. He developed an unhealthy way of interacting with others, therefore he developed unhealthy sexual practices. This view of him being sort of a prostitute isn’t so far away. Flame Willow, the part of Platinum Jail they end in, pretty much looks like a red light district. It’s introduced as a place for “passionate folks to get their thrills”, an euphemism.

He also smokes and drinks, which are not talked about a lot as an addiction to cope with his pain. In the Drama CD though they do talk about it as a way to escape the stress he’s facing because of the Tamaokuri, so we can assume that he uses these two and possibly developed an addiction, wanting to drink until blacking out to forget for a moment.

Even if the sexual abuse didn’t happen canonically, the metaphor is as close as it can be, so it’s in your hands how you want to see it. Even if it’s hard to talk about something like this, I really like how this was built, because something that isn’t sexual abuse (at least canonically, and I wonder if the allegory was intentional or not) actually feels like it, something that changed a person’s entire life, his perception of himself and the people he interacts with, an event with an actual weight, something I missed from literally any actual SA scene that we got in the rest of the game.

[sourveggies]

Omgg my lazy ass finally drew something again! Hooray! 🥳🙌

(Even though I STILL don’t clean up my art- uhm UM- I DONT WANNA OKAY!? 😭)

ANYWHO

Drew this Ink rn! :D I wanted to try to give his body ink-like colors (black & blue) since that’s his name and I just wanted to.

ALSO there’s some color symbolism in giving him cooler colors as a base even though he has rainbows plastered all over him (can serve as a contrast between his soulless or feelings of emptiness & his personality/how he acts, etc. you get the gist).

Double also, he wears his vials as a necklace under his scarf bc I’m too lazy to draw them, BUT it serves to hide/protect his soul/vials better too.

(I find his dorky rainbow suspenders funny idk why-)

OG Ink belongs to @comyet

🌈🎨🖌️🖋️

[tubbytarchia]

Thank you anon, I'm so glad you see the vision!! I summed up a bunch of my thoughts in this post but it's mostly about hypotehtical scenarios and kinda cringe haha, so i'm gonna try and formulate my thoughts again as to why I find their potential dynamic so appealing

I'm forever plagued by the fact that they only interacted once, but that one interaction is so so important to me and I think says so much about how Doc would treat Jimmy. This may sound like I'm infantilizing Jimmy which I apologize for in advance, but Jimmy does quite literally get infantilized in canon and he tends to speak in a childish manner. He is very much not incompetent as if he were a child, moreso someone who's just been made to believe themselves to be that way, and that needs addressing first before he can rise to his full potential if he is to continue to try and get by in an environment that constantly knocks him down

As in the one interaction they had, in which Doc instantly picked up on what Jimmy genuinely needed, I believe he'd be able to pick up on Jimmy's wants and needs without direct verbalization, which is good because Jimmy wouldn't be able to place, let alone communicate the intricacies of his woes. At most, Jimmy is able to make blunt statements like "I didn't like that" or "This makes me unhappy". This is also helped by their dynamic in my head being explicitly not romantic, knowing how his romantic or debatably romantic partners have treated him (eg even Tango, although VERY sweet and good to him, fails to recognize Jimmy's continued need for support, especially when he doesn't communicate that, and goes along with jokes made at Jimmy's expense as easily as most other players do even though he means no malice)

You'll have to bear with me on the symbolism here but more on their interaction and Doc saying "I want to take you into my hands and take you to a safe place": to me Jimmy is very much a caged bird, but freeing him is not going to help him when the cage is all he knows. Doc could be that person to make it a safe place with encouragement and gentleness, in which Jimmy can have that push to both grapple with his feelings and open up, but ultimately leaving the cage of his own accord. Doc referred to Jimmy triggering his "parental instincts" himself, and knowing how gentle and protective he can be, I fully believe in him providing Jimmy that safe place he needs; to provide him a home in which Jimmy can feel welcomed back into, which is something Jimmy has struggled with (his tendency to run away from "home" and not daring to return if he underperforms at something or if he feels he's done something unforgivable)

This is very apparent now with the "I'm not a toy" declaration Doc made whilst viewed as a spectacle in his Skyblock prison, but in general Doc has never been fond of being played or made fun of. He does not let go of grudges and he will go to whatever lengths it takes to come out on top when his image is challenged, so he was always going to be able to empathize with Jimmy to some degree and I have no doubt he'd become defensive on his behalf. His competitive and often bitter nature is definitely not always a positive, but Jimmy could use someone as vocal and open as Doc to stand for him as he hasn't been allowed to and no one else (aside from Joel in recent times) has for him before

Basically I think Doc should be allowed to be a bit of a dad to Jimmy and provide him a place to help kickstart any healing because I believe him to do so if given the chance