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#the more aware you are of what your putting into the design
chrisrin · 1 year
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not to bother you or anything but how did you choose the gems for the gemstuck (+ the gemcyt cause yk it applies to that also obvs) designs? and like, the fusions and stuff? :?
I think I answered this a while back (I just checked my archive trying to find the ask but can't so maybe not?)
But either way! So, yeah!
So for baseline characters (non-fusions) I try to stick to canon gem choices as much as possible. This is a self-imposed restriction I give to myself because to me, it makes the characters feel more "canon" to what the show is. I have more references to base designs off of, rather than trying to completely conceptualize new gem types (there's a few exceptions to that, Nepeta is a Cat's Eye which doesn't exist and BigB is a Blue Quartz, which also isn't a variant ever seen in the show).
As far as fusions, I tend to just look up gemstones that have the colors of both (or more) components and try to go from there. Ametrine is purple and yellow and while Scar is more pink than purple, it felt fitting for a Willy Wonka-inspired character to be an Ametrine so I could lean more into purples and dark magentas with Ametrine's color palette. Other times, it's more based on the vibes that a fusion will give off. Impulse and Bdubs are a Sunstone because I feel like that's a perfect fit of their personality, even if the design leans much more into Impulse's color palette than Bdubs'.
For fusions of 3+ gems, I try to focus on bigger concepts as that's usually what those fusions are. It's less about how the individual components mash together, and more what their collective motivation/purpose/personality is. For Rainbow Obsidian, I wanted to do something similar to Obsidian from the show but make it clearly Dogswoods-inspired, so it's a giant wolf/puppy. Boatem (Celestine) is also another more "concept"-based megafusion that takes inspiration from the Boatem builds (specifically Mumbo's temple).
I think one of the best things you can do with fusion design is focus on the core vibe of the new character your creating. Yes, fusion is technically two gems mashed together, but they're also their own person. I think when you start to give yourself the space to be more flexible with the design, you will end up making better gem fusions.
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jackgoodfellow · 9 months
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Don't Starve is the only game I know that somehow senses my HUBRIS.
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I was 2 MINUTES AWAY FROM THE FINAL PORTAL IN THE FINAL LEVEL OF ADVENTURE MODE WITHOUT CHEATING OR ANYTHING. I had spent DAYS working to win the game, 2 MINUTES away from the end! I had Chester! I had a billion pierogies! I had two activated touchstones! I had it all, baby!!!!
I even bragged to my wife that the game was almost easy now!
Big mistake. The Hubris Sensing Technology (TM) of the World's Most Unforgiving Game sensed my complacency and the next thing I knew I was barraged by more Clockwork Bishops than I have ever seen in a single place in my hundreds and hundreds of hours playing this evil evil game!!!
I got through more killer bees than I'd ever seen, and a huge dense forest of 1,000 spiders! All that I could handle!!
But I have NO IDEA what I was supposed to do about a bottleneck that involved 60 ranged attacks hitting me within 5 seconds and stun-locking me to death. I have never been so Humbled by a game, and I've been playing this game for so long!
I have made this art piece to commemorate the occasion.
DISCLAIMER/CREDIT:
To make this, I cut out sprites from the game and from other official art by Klei Games, and then I added all the lighting effects and arranged it all together.
The only other thing I actually drew for this is Wigfrid's hand holding the torch.
Normally, I illustrate every element of a piece I do; but for this, I just wanted to quickly communicate the High-Pitched Silly Screaming Horror of running into this monstrosity in the "all-darkness" level of Adventure Mode!!
EDIT: Someone confirmed for me after making this post that the *Impossible Bishop Gauntlet of Doom* was, in fact, a glitch. -- OR IS THAT JUST WHAT THE BISHOPS WANT ME TO THINK????
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luckyladylily · 4 months
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So a few months ago there was the discourse about would you rather meet a man or a bear in the woods. I didn't want to touch it while the discourse was hot and everyone dug in hard because those are not good conditions for nuance, but I waited until today, June 1st, for a specific reason.
I'm not going to take a position in the bear vs man debate because I don't think it matters. What is really being asked here is how afraid are you of men? Specifically, unexpected men who are, perhaps, strange.
People have a lot of very real fear of men that comes from a lot of very real places. Back when I was first transitioning in 2015 and 2016, I decided to start presenting as a woman in public even though I did not pass in the slightest.
I live in a red state. I knew other trans women who had been attacked by men, raped by men. I knew I was taking a risk by putting myself out there. I was the only visibly trans person in the area of campus I frequented, and people made sure I never forgot that. Most were harmless enough and the worst I got from them was curious stares. Others were more aggressive, even the occasional threat. I had to avoid public bathrooms, of course, and always be aware of my surroundings.
I know how frightening it is to be alone at night while a pair of men are following behind you and not knowing if they are just going in the same direction or if they want to start something - made all the worse for the constant low level threat I had been living under for over a year by just being visibly trans in a place where many are openly hostile to queer people. You have to remember, this was at the height of the first wave of bathroom law discussions, a lot of people were very angry about trans women in particular. My daily life was terrifying at times. I was never the subject of direct violence, but I knew trans women who had been.
I want you to keep all that in mind.
So man or bear is really the question "how afraid of men are you?", and the question that logically follows is "What if there was a strange man at night in a deserted parking lot?" or "What if you were alone in an elevator with a man?" or "What if you met a strange man in the woman's bathroom?"
My state recently passed an anti trans bathroom bill. The rhetoric they used was about protecting women and children from "strange men", aka trans women.
Conservatives hijack fear for their bigoted agenda.
When I first started presenting as a woman the campus apartment complex was designed for young families. The buildings were in a large square with playgrounds in the center, and there were often children playing. I quickly noticed that when I took my daughter out to play, often several children would immediately stop what they were doing and run back inside. It didn't take me long to confirm that the parents were so afraid of "the strange man who wears skirts" that their children were under strict instructions to literally run away as soon as they saw me.
"How afraid are you of a strange man being near your children?"
I mentioned above that I had to avoid public bathrooms. This was not because of men. It was because of women who were so afraid of random men that they might get violent or call someone like the police to be violent for them if I ever accidentally presented myself in a way that could be interpreted as threatening, when my mere presence could be seen as a threat. If I was in the library studying and I realized that it was just me and one other woman I would get up and leave because she might decide that stranger danger was happening.
Your fear is real. Your fear might even come from lived experiences. None of that prevents the fact that your fear can be violent. Women's fear of men is one of the driving forces of transmisogyny because it is so easy to hijack. And it isn't just trans women. Other trans people experience this, and other queer people too. Racial minorities, homeless people, neurodivergent people, disabled people.
When you uncritically engage with questions like man or bear, when you uncritically validate a culture of reactive fear, you are paving the way for conservatives and bigots to push their agenda. And that is why I waited until pride month. You cannot engage and contribute to the culture of reactive fear without contributing to queerphobia of all varieties. The sensationalist culture of reactive fear is a serious queer issue, and everyone just forgot that for a week as they argued over man or bear. I'm not saying that "man" is the right answer. I am saying that uncritically engaging with such obvious click bait trading on reactive fear is a problem. Everyone fucked up.
It is not a moral failing to experience fear, but it is a moral responsibility to keep a handle on that fear and know how it might harm others.
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horce-divorce · 3 months
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It's wild watching someone who used to be self aware (or at least, who didn't want to be like their parents) become entitled to things like avoidance. And children. Often simultaneously
#me#my friend used to be a very free spirit#ended up medically traumatized due to psychosis. went to court ordered therapy got on meds etc#made a bunch of concessions to reconnect with family bc their partner left them as soon as they were in the hospital#got medicated. got back to work. got into a new relationship.#and now suddenly behaves exactly 100% like their parents.#was even holding our homelessness over our head saying shit like#'you guys know you have to ask the gov for help eventually right? bc if you dont itll be me taking care of u and i want kids :('#(this coming under the assumption we somehow CHOSE to be homeless and that we HADNT asked the gov for help REPEATEDLY already??)#same thing w another former friend#used to have a fraction of self awareness. wanted to break the cycle#got married. got kids. went back to work and school and suddenly is entitled to not only continue the cycle#but to be avoidant as well.#bc you see. its really hard and stressful to have a job and family and home to be responsible for.#its so hard they dont have anything left over to be self aware or empathetic with.#and its true! its tragic for them too. its isolating. this is part of why suburban life is so terrible. the fucking isolation.#being a good little capitalist cog was intentionally designed to give you just enough privilege#just enough of your own life#to make you keep coming back for more#but to simultaneously run you so ragged that you never have time energy money etc to protest.#so you stop protesting at all#even on a small scale.#you dont call what your parents did to you abuse bc you want them in your life.#you dont call what your ex did to you 'rape' bc thats too strong a word and you want to believe you parted on good terms.#you dont call what the hospital did to you abuse or medical trauma. intead you say you NEEDED to be chained down? the fuck?#you start to believe all the bad things people said about you. and then you start to believe them about other people.#you go from someone who marches in the streets to someone who criticizes the protests for being inconvenient and impolite.#entitlement. its entitlement.#bc this system holds your autonomy and life and family HOSTAGE behind a paywall unless and until you conform.#and they can be taken away in an instant if you put a toe out of line
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arminsumi · 1 year
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ADULT STORE
↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader
"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense."
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1.5k words
Pt. 2
Summary : product testing with the helpful employee at the adult store!
Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content : using toys, stranger/hookup sex, softdom!Geto, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, multiple orgasms, sex fantasy trope (sex with the adult store employee)
Note : i haven't made a trip to the adult store in ages bc... everything i want is so expensive lol (the struggle) 😭 i have some rlly funny adult store stories i could ramble about but i will refrain ✋ anyways, indulge yourselves in this fantasy, angels! 😈
Playme : wanna know what it's like?
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The gate of the store buzzes, the employee watches you open it with a clink and enter the adult store. Your eyes flood with the overwhelming sight of wall-to-wall toys.
The smooth voice of the employee comes from behind the cash register.
"Yo."
Long hair. Dark, brooding look — almost gothic. Attractive hands with pronounced veins running over the back of them, poised on the countertop which he's lazing over.
He sees you and slowly straightens out his back out to impress you with his height.
"Ah, h-hello..."
He hears you stutter, and assumes it must be your first time in an adult store.
"First time? I mean, in an adult store, that is." he breaks the ice.
"Haha, y-yeah... yeah, it's my first time."
Yeah, that's what I thought.
He holds hard and deep eye contact with you. Yes, he's aware of how intensely he stares. He's doing it on purpose.
"Would you like some assistance, or do you just want to leisurely browse by yourself?"
His tone is so friendly, it doesn't let on to how heated his abdomen is getting at the sight of you.
"Yes, please, I'd appreciate your assistance."
Aw, of course.
"M'kay... then let me assist you."
He smoothly comes out from behind the counter and the two of you stand in front of a wall of toys.
"Overwhelmed?" he chuckles, noting how your eyes widen while looking at all the products. "I know there's a lot to choose from. But just focus on your needs. What do you need?"
"What do I need? Honestly, I have no idea what I need." you laugh nervously.
I know exactly what she needs...
"Well, why don't we carefully go through the products together? I'm sure I can figure out what you need. Promise I know my stuff. I've been working here for three years."
His nonchalance and professionalism puts you at ease. It's something he prides himself on: making customers feel relaxed.
Your eye catches on a pink dildo, so he takes it off the rack to show you up close.
"This one's good, it's got a ribbed design." he shows it off. "Are you looking for just penetration or clitoral stimulation?"
Aw, she's flustered.
"Uh, both I guess? Yeah. I'd love both."
Of course you'd love both. That's what you need, pretty girl.
"Both? Come over here. Let me show you something you might like."
There's a flirty tension between the two of you that just keeps getting more and more... intense.
He plucks a curvy vibrator. It looks expensive. Because it is expensive.
"This one's got ten functions—"
"—ten?! Sounds a bit extra."
"Nothing's too extra when it comes to your personal pleasure."
The two of you share a long look, then laugh.
"But it really is an excellent product."
"Are you advertising?" you joke teasingly.
"Absolutely." he jokes, "Kidding. I'm not trying to come across as a preachy marketer or something. I've used it with partners in the past, that's why I'm recommending it; I know it's good. It's a pretty intense toy. Helps girls squirt even if they think they can't."
I could make her squirt.
He's running his eyes up and down your body.
"Is that so...?" you mumble flirtatiously, eyeing out the product in his veiny, manly hands.
"Hm, still a skeptic? Because I'm sure I could please you."
He hopes that you note his deliberate use of 'I' and not 'it' there.
"Yeah. I'm sure you could please me, too." you flirt.
A heat erupts in his abdomen and stomach.
Oh wow... now she's really flirting, huh? Why'd I wear tight pants today of all days...
He has an unwavering gaze on you. You've captivated him. Put him in some kinda horny trance.
"Did I say me? Sorry. Slip of the tongue." he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "I meant the vibrator." he obviously lies.
You and him exchange a suggestive, longing look. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing, begging to get stuffed up and pleasured.
He hesitates before speaking again, as if he's scared of crossing a line and making you uncomfortable.
"If you want to... we could test it out together?" he suggests. His nonchalance is an act, really he's so nervous when he asks this.
"I'd love to..." you consent, and he doesn't miss the erotic excitement in your tone.
He nods towards the backdoor, eyes keeping on you and your cute little body that he just wants to feel and squeeze like a toy itself.
"Promise to keep your lips sealed about this? I don't wanna get fired for uh... you know... demonstrating products... to my pretty customer."
"Only if you promise to help me squirt for the first time."
Oh wow. Fuck. I'm hard.
His lips widen into a devilish grin. "Sure thing."
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After a sloppy, desperate make out with this stranger, you find yourself sat on the couch in the breakroom. Door locked. Blinds shuttered closed. Legs spread wide to his liking, as he cushions the vibrator into your plush slit.
He's rubbing it slowly up and down your folds. He watches your reactions intently, breathing heavier at the sight of your pussy squishing under the pink dildo. The buzzing sound fills the room, but your moans are louder.
He clutches the toy gently, massaging the bulbous head into your clit with sweeping circular motions.
"F-fuck... that pretty clit feels good, doesn't it? Yeah? Let's get it feeling even better."
He turns it up a notch. It buzzes harder against your sensitive nub.
"How's that? Haha, yeah, intense, isn't it?
"Yeahhh — Fuck! Ohhh that's so good, that's so — oh my goddd fuckkk. S-sorry I think... I'm gonna cummm — !!"
"It's okay. Cum as hard as you can, yeah? I want you to get a good idea of how well this toy can pleasure you before you buy it, after all. Oh there we go... just let go and... f-fuck... wow... j-just cum like that. Fuck... that pretty clit feels so good now, huh? Gonna cum? Gonna cum for me, with a vibrator on your cunt?"
He takes note of your reaction to his dirty talk and smirks. Then he slyly turns the toy's setting higher and it buzzes more intensely, and in one... two... three... seconds, you're squirting like crazy all over the pink vibrator and his hand.
Holy shit, look at that pretty pussy gushing... she could drench my dick. I wanna be inside her so fucking baddd...
"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense." he regains his professional tone after you cum.
He turns the toy off and watches you come down from your shaking orgasm, smug look on his face. He keeps it clutched in his veiny hand, and brings it up to his lips to suck and lick up all your juices from it.
She tastes so fucking good... I feel dizzy.
You watch him with wide eyes as he tastes your slick off the toy.
"F-fuck... wh-what did you s-s-say your name was again?" you stutter, starstruck by this stranger.
You're so fucking dizzy, your pussy is buzzing like it still feels the intensity of the toy against it.
"Hm, wanna know my name?" he smiles teasingly, "How about you cum on my face and then I'll tell you."
"Fuck, okay."
And then as soon as you give him permission, he's hungrily diving between your thighs.
"Oh my god..." he loves how you gasp and writhe under the influence of his mouth.
Let's see how fucked-out I can get her. Wanna see her lose her mind 'cause of me.
His lips latch onto your labia and suckle, then onto your clit. He points his tongue at your clit, then oh my god flattens it and laps at your bud while suckling. His softness shows a hint to tenderness in his personality; he really knows how to treat a woman well.
This stranger spoils your pussy with his tongue and lips. He seems to be in his own little world while nosing between your thighs. He carelessly gets your juices smeared across his cheek and lets the rest dribble down his chin.
"Fuck fuck fuck — like that, like that. Don't stop don't stop — !! 'm gonna cum! G-gonna — fffffffucking cummmm ahhhhh — !!"
He flicks the tip of his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, eager to make your pussy freak out on his mouth. Just before you cum he slips two fingers into your hole, middle and ring, and pumps them into a sweet spot hard. He just wants to get an idea of the feeling of your pussy when it cums.
Suckling at your clit, fingering you with nice hard rough strokes, closing his eyes like he's the one enjoying it meanwhile he's silent and you're moaning like you're going insane. He can tell you're close and speeds it up.
"Cum cum cum, cum for me. Just let go and cum." he sounds so desperate, and that professional tone of his is finally cracking. "Cum on my fucking face, please."
And he dives his tongue right back into your hole, wriggling his tongue around, resulting in the nastiest wet squelching sound. His lips press flat against your pussy, he draws in a deep breath and your heat is all he smells.
Please cum on my face. Please please please.
"Ah! Fuck! Fuckkkk!"
You gush right on his lips, which are plump and swollen and red and glistening with your slick.
He pulls away and licks his lips and tells you his name.
"Suguru, by the way. My name's Suguru. Hey... can I give you my number?"
Oh he's so smooth. But he's even smoother at the checkout, when he asks if you're free this Friday for a date. At his apartment. With the company of some of his favorite toys.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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deadsetobsessions · 9 months
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Danny’s Wayne adoption bait. The guy that owns the bodega knows it. Everyone and their mothers knows it. Danny, on the other hand, had no clue. To be fair, he had just crash landed in this dimension a week ago and his back was still sore from the weird design the car had.
(It’s only three weeks of homelessness later does Danny realize that he crash landed on the Batmobile. Whoops. Oh well. He’ll blame it on Clockwork if the vigilante asks after repair costs.)
(Bruce, on the other hand, is scouring the streets for this kid the car cams caught- oddly static filled footage- because his mind jumped to the worst case scenarios: a suicidal meta or a meta being threatened or a meta in a trafficking scheme or even worse all three at once and Bruce just can’t because there is a child in danger, he doesn’t have time to sleep.)
Danny rubbed at his back, eyes going watery at the memory. Sure, his wounds have healed over by now but the- heh- phantom pain is no joke. He shuddered, huddling closer to his threadbare hoodie. His only saving grace from getting jumped while walking the streets of Gotham at night is his invisibility and intangibility. Also, he’s floating, so “walking” doesn’t apply to him.
He’s gotta check on the kid he saved yesterday from a mugging, so Danny hurried along to the depilated apartment complex the kid was squatting in. Turning visible and tangible as he turns the corner, Danny glanced around for Amy.
“Danny!”
“Hey, kiddo. Doing alright?”
“Yeah! Come meet my gang!”
Danny felt his eyebrows rise to form Jazz’s exasperated look. Ouch. Waving the pain of losing Jazz away, Danny smiled at the excited girl.
“A gang? I wasn’t aware I was being brought to your almighty group.”
“Yeah! Uh, you actually helped a bunch of us so…”
Danny thought back to all those times he punted crooks away from robbing kids and shrugged. Yeah, what Amy said was likely.
“Kay, kiddo.”
She scowled, and Danny didn’t have the heart to tell her it looked more like a pout.
“You’re just a teenager.”
“Well, you’re a just a kid.”
Danny cackled as she chased him down the street, trying to kick his shins.
Life is good, even if he’s homeless and hungry.
——
“Jason.”
“Old man.” Jason mocks back, pausing his tasks. He waits as Bruce struggles to put his thoughts and feelings into words.
“There’s… a meta.”
“In Gotham?” Jason tilts back, hands halfway to his guns as a silent offer. Bruce shakes his head.
“A child. In Crime Alley.”
“In my turf?” Jason’s disquieting demeanor quickly swapped to a protective one.
“Trafficking, I think. Male, black hair…”
“Shit. Get Dickwing back here, he’s good with traumatized kids. I’ll go look for him.” Jason’s already moving, mind filtering through the kids he knows might have information to offer.
Bruce nods, shoulders relaxing. Jason smacks down the lump in his throat at the subtle sing of trust. “I’ll get Oracle and Red Robin on it.”
Jason morphs from Jay to Red Hood in one smooth step, helmet firmly placed on his head. He grunts in agreement, slinging his legs over his motorcycle. He roars off, mind half filled with tearing apart whatever traffickers dared to shit near his territory and the other half filled with worry for this possible kid.
——
Danny, as the Bats become aware of his existence, hands Amy and her kiddie gang a bag of fancy beef jerky.
“Try these with peanut butter, it’s kind of good.”
Amy stares at him, the judgement of an eight year old more piercing than anything he’s ever experienced.
“You’re fucking weird-”
“Language!” He squawks.
“-but sure, whatever you say, boss.”
“Boss?!”
The kids ignores his alarmed face.
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“That One Hairstyle? RETIRE IT!” Black Hair is an Art (pt.1)
(This is part one of two lessons, with this one focusing on how our hair itself! The next lesson will encompass how to incorporate its existence into your writing. It'd be a massively long post otherwise.)
So! Black hair. Black hair is a CENTRAL, ESSENTIAL part of our culture and identity. Writing and drawing it means understanding the vulnerability and trust that comes with access to it, and yes, it is racist to suggest that ‘it’s just hair’ when our hair serves such an important role in our history and art. I already wrote a mini-lesson and ask on the topic, but being aware of what our hair looks like, and what means to us, will help you to understand why we care that you put in the effort to get it right.
Hair Textures
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We are not a genetic monolith! However, for the sake of this series, we are focusing on 3C-4C, because 1) it's most likely to be seen in life and 2) least likely to be seen in popular art! When you are creating your characters, consider the style and care for THESE textures. I will get more into this next lesson.
Let's get into SOME of the hairstyles!
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Afros (36 Afro Hairstyles)
“So, what’s the phenomenon behind the Afro? Well, it’s our hair in its most natural form, but that’s only part of the phenomenon. It’s a way to fight the status quo without saying a word.”
-Ebony Magazine, The History of the Afro
When nonBlack society hears ‘afro’, they think completely picked out, Black power imagery, political statement. And it was, and is! But in actuality, afros are just the natural hair growing out of a Black person's head. The same way your hair grows out of your head. Our texture. Even my hair is not allowed to be ‘hair’, it has to ‘assign’ my Blackness; my distance from whiteness. Imagine, the hair growing out of your head being automatically associated with how you should be perceived. Just by existing, it is making a statement in a Eurocentric society.
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Braids (31 Braid Styles)
There are SO MANY TYPES of braids and ways to wear them. If you can imagine a design, I bet there's a Black braider that can do it!
CORNROWS ARE NOT AUTOMATICALLY BRAIDS! Internalize this! They may be used in the same style, but they are NOT INTERCHANGEABLE TERMS!
Braids are considered a protective style; that is, a hairstyle designed to let our hair 'rest' and grow without having to manipulate it. If you have a Black character that's constantly on the go and/or doesn't have time to focus on their hair, and you want an accurate, more true-to-life experience for them, braids can be a crucial part of character design.
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Locs
(Yes, while that link has plenty of examples, it was also self-indulgent. Locs are gorgeous, Black men with locs are gorgeous!)
"Locs vs Dreads": As someone in the loc community, there’s been a push to refer to the style as ‘locs’, rather than ‘dreadlocks’. Some people with the style will not care, but others take it very seriously, so it’s something to keep in mind. There’s a societal stigma behind having locs, that they’re ‘dirty’ or ‘unkempt’ or ‘lazy’ and that is NOT true. Locs are beautiful, and they take far more effort than people seem to want to believe lmao.
Locs, though there is currently a positive revival, are still highly discriminated against. Kids have been expelled from school and even have had their hair forcibly cut off to be allowed to participate in sports. Many places won't hire you if they think your hair is 'unprofessional' or 'dirty', especially if you're a Black woman. To consider yet another example of the hair that grows out of my head 'dirty' is extremely racist.
LOCS ARE NOT BRAIDS!!!!
Locs are also a protective style, albeit a much more permanent one, and one that comes with a long history and culture behind it. Many Black people consider the biblical story of Samson to be a man with locs, and that our locs hold power within them. That not just anyone should be allowed to touch your locs. So, if you're interested in mythology and powers, that might be an intriguing way to go, that would be possible if you had a Black character with locs!
In Professional Media
The lack of awareness and concern about our hair isn't just a fan or amateur creator experience. It is ubiquitous in the professional media world. Black actors, actresses, and models have discussed having to do their own hair when working, because no one would properly care for it on set if it wasn't familiarly white. It’s admittedly grown better- however! After decades of not having options other than ‘stereotypical afro’, ‘box cut’, and ‘white people hair’, it is LONG PAST TIME to stop settling for the bare minimum in Black character design. We can tell when "one of us" (with some sense, at least) wasn't in the room to make decisions in popular media.
If you were curious about the lesson title, here's a current example of what I'm talking about in video games. Tell me if you see a pattern:
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This style? The Killmonger? We seent it!!!! It has become the “hairstyle to show I understand the exaggerated swagger of a young Black teen” option, the "I know the Black people!" go-to, and frankly, we are all tired of it. Okay it was cute on Ekko. The Black Delegation DEMANDS the professional video game industry pick something else! We have SO MANY DIFFERENT HAIRSTYLES!
I'll give you an example on the other end (not trying at all; refer to Lesson 1) from one of my favorite games, Hades:
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This is my blorbo. My favoritest guy. I’ll fight for Patroclus being Black til the day I die. While I begrudgingly settled in my excitement, I can tell you no one Black with any voting power was in the room at Supergiant when they approved this design. Why? His texture! Locs were such an easy option if they wanted long hair! Locs existed BEFORE Ancient Greece! The man did not have a flat iron while fighting in a war! A good Black designer would have considered that!
To give him a more accurate design, some artists (myself included) lean into giving him locs (one of my favorites is @karshmallow 's Pat; a phenomenal example in caring about your Black characters). It’s something Black fans find themselves doing- redesigning Black characters. That's not something we should have to do at all, especially in media we pay for!
But if you REALLY want your Black character to have straight hair, that leads into the last style of this lesson:
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Straight Hair
We do have straight hair. But it’s not straight because it grew out that way! It will still look and be thicker! It might be a wig or a sew-in (human or synthetic), it might be flat-ironed (while relaxed? While natural?) It takes effort to get and maintain straight hair.
'I think it looks better good this way!'
If you catch yourself thinking this, this is a racist statement. Whether you’re aware of it our not, there is a bias towards Eurocentric/white features in our society, and that includes in our media. When you think “I only drew [this Eurocentric hair texture and style] because I think it looks good on them!” I want you to PAUSE and think about the WHY. WHY do you think that this Black person’s natural features are unattractive in comparison to the white hair texture you gave them? And how hurt might a Black peer of yours would feel hearing that you find their natural features not worth drawing because they’re “not attractive”. It requires approaching your own internal biases, recognizing them, and then working to unlearn them. And that means practice! Using references to draw our hair and styles, and growing used to using OUR features on US!
Doing it in Art
Me personally, I think if you think drawing thinner hair textures is easy, thicker hair textures should be a BREEZE. I was curious, so I challenged myself and-
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(it took me about thirteen minutes total to do ol boy's hair and it's still not right. I'm sick fr y'all don't even know 🤢)
@ackee has a really good art lesson on the how-tos of drawing Black hairstyles. I highly recommend checking it out, as well as following and supporting a fellow Black artist (who is far better than I!)
Hair Brushes
Finally, an option you can use for painting is downloading Black hair brushes! Vegalia has an amazing array of brushes with different types of curls, locs, and braids at her Etsy store! You can also follow her on social media to see how she applies them, and support yet another amazing Black creative!
I know this was a long one, but you made it! Just keep going. Remember, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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savanir · 3 months
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DP x DC prompt [6]
Weapon design always came easy to Jack Fenton. He grew up with it, all the way back in Atlantis, when he was just a little guppy.
What he wasn’t aware of at the time was that his parents were from a long and prestigious line of scientists and weapon manufacturers in Atlantean society. But things had been getting dangerous. 
The King at the time cast them out when they refused his demands of greater, stronger, deadlier weapons. The kind of weapons they knew would not only destroy their enemies, but themselves as well.
They fled and went where they thought they would never be found, the surface.
Jack had the easiest time adapting, being as young as he was getting used to breathing air was a lot less of a struggle. 
He adopted one of the most generic male names he could, and adapted the family name of Fenestratus into Fenton. And then it was just living as a human, as humanly as possible, nothing to see here.
By now Jack basically doesn’t know any better. but this piece of heritage is coming back now all these years later, when his son is looking to him for help from the government.
But first he holds his boy close and apologizes, because he sees the fear, and he understands a little too well, and he doesn’t like the picture he’s seeing now that all the puzzle pieces are falling into place.
“I almost became the thing I hate the most. I’m so sorry Danny, I’m sorry I made you feel unsafe in your own home”
The hug is long and warm and tight and Danny isn’t ashamed to admit he might have clung a little bit.
Then Jack holds Danny tightly by his shoulders and gives him a big grin, “Good news though, you’re only half ghost, the other half is not only human but also Atlantean, and there are laws protecting us now” Jack mutters to himself, “I wonder if the whole ghost stuff would actually be put under the meta protection thing… hmm”
Danny blinks for a moment, Jazz gapes, Maddie is suddenly no longer spiraling about how her baby boy got in a terrible accident in their lab and she didn’t know.
“I’m also what?”
“Dad!?”
“oh did I forget to mention that? I thought I did, I know for certain that I had been meaning to”
“Jack sweetie, are you-”
“oh yes, and I remember now, I decided to tell you after our big breakthrough because I didn’t want to distract you, and-” Jack looks sheepish, “I hope you aren’t too mad at me Maddiecakes”
“mad? oh I would never be mad at you about this but we could have- I don’t know, accommodated- Atlanteans are aquatic, well I guess that explains how you could always put away so much water, and when you gave me your umbrella and I thought you were just making an excuse when you told me you didn’t mind and in fact loved getting pelted by the rain-”
Maddie goes on, and Jack thinks to himself that this is exactly the reason why he kept it to himself at the time, Maddie never half asses anything, he’s sure a lot of things are going to change in the house now, it honestly only makes him fall in love with her even more.
Meanwhile Jazz had filled up a bucket of water and then dunked her head in, then came back out not even slightly gasping for breath, just saying “oh my god” over and over.
Danny timed it, “yeah okay, I guess that proves it. now I’m starting to wonder if my weird relationship with air is ghost related at all”
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gfguren · 2 months
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pro hero!bakugou x fem!reader | fluff, suggestive, husband!katsuki, katsuki implied as being taller than reader, implied age (~late 20's, early 30s~), light-hearted bickering, an excuse to write more domestic!kats, 1.8k | cw: cursing, suggestive
-your husband comes home late, soaking wet and a little bit handsy-
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Katsuki is late; you hope traffic isn't too bad. Outside your window the sky is overcast, steely shades of grey over a slate canvas. The roads are dyed an inky charcoal, pooling at the surface where rain drip-drip-pours in endless streams.
You've taken up residence in the foyer, between the linen closet at the end of the hall, and the umbrella Katsuki left by the front door this morning. The very same one you reminded him to take with him at breakfast, and twice again before he left in the evening. If you loved him a little bit less, he might listen to you one day.
But you do—love him—right down to his bad habits and stubborn disposition.
So you wait for him the same way you have for years; perched at the breakfast nook in the corner with a warm cup of tea and a paperback that's been gathering dust for half-a-year now at least. The bar table is worn at the edges, legs wobble if you lean too far forward—frankly, you should have gotten rid of it years ago—but it was the first belonging that wasn't yours, or Katsuki's, but ours; a piece you thrifted when you were both still twenty-something and broke.
The years have changed a lot—our table, our bed, our house, our life. Your Katsuki.
—His wife.
The band around your finger is white gold; it clinks when you put the mug to your lips. Honey, ginger. Sweet. Rain hits the window and falls; two trails meet at the middle, and stick to each other like glue. Katsuki would laugh if he found you right now, smiling into your tea like a lovestruck fool.
You let the ceramic rest, turn to page thirty-or-something of a book that you totally-intend-to-finish. An hour passes before you hear the telltale rumble of an engine.
You spot his headlights first, misty pools of sunlight spilling onto the pavement when he pulls into the driveway. It's well past midnight now; Katsuki is a shadow against the porchlight, long strides and a hand over his crown. You have half a mind to bring the umbrella to him, but he's quicker, ascends the four steps to the veranda in two big leaps; you barely register the rustle of keys before he's stepping into the house, pooling rainwater at the welcome mat.
He's soaked at the shoulders, a grumble in his throat when he kneels to unlace his shoes—black leather, designer and sharp, same as the suit jacket around his shoulders. Tailored to fit him just right.
Katsuki's always been handsome, even as a hero in training renting hand-me-down suits from the little mom-and-pop shop down the street. But it really strikes you just how beautiful he is when you look at him now, dressed to the nines. All the years of hard work paying off in more ways than one.
You go a little fuzzy when he lifts his head to catch you staring; red eyes kindling the air and making it hard to breathe. He's the spitting image of a number two hero, just returned from a long night at some fancy-pants gala; sometimes you forget that's exactly what he is. Even more dumbfounded that, somehow, he's yours.
"I know," he grumbles, moving his shoes to the cabinet and meticulously hanging his jacket over the chair to dry. He briefly eyes the umbrella. "I f'rgot, kay?"
So have you, suddenly.
There's a pause and—"I didn't say anything."
He meets you at the table, one hand at the surface and the other at the knot of his tie. "Y've got that look."
You tip you chin to glare at him playfully. "And what 'look' is that, Bakugou Katsuki?"
"Like y'r about t'chew me up." He pulls the fabric strip from around his neck in one fell swoop, pops the first button of his dress shirt with his thumb. Your eyes fall for only a moment—barely a second—but Katsuki grins with the self-awareness of a man who's known you half his life. "Or about t'jump my bones, hah?"
He looks entirely impish in his revelation, ego flaring to rest in his cheeks; you have half a mind to nip at them like candy floss, instead you reach for the cuffs of his button-up, tidy the sleeves one fold over the other until the rainwater and well-kept muscles catch at the seams. You feign a sigh when his stare becomes too insistent to ignore, hand falling to rest at the peaks of his knuckles. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah." A spark of firelight flashes in his eyes, deep carmine and coy; teasing him was so much easier a decade ago. "I'd let'cha."
You roll your eyes. "You're so unsexy, y'know that?"
"Hah," he barks with all the disbelief in the world. "What? Want me t'do that dirty talkin' shit instead? Jump y'r bones right here at the table? D'n think she'll hold up, baby."
He lets a fraction of his weight fall against the corner and the old wood immediately cries out, splintering oak and creaking hinges and the real, immediate threat that the poor thing might actually collapse at your feet.
You spring up defensively. "Katsuki!"
A once neatly-folded towel tumbles from your lap to land at your toes. His gaze falls; grin widens.
"Said y're gonna make me 'deal with it' next time I forgot the stinkin' umbrella, didn't'cha?" His fingers pinch the fat of your cheeks teasingly. "Love me that much, hah?" Your eyes narrow, fingers dive with intent for the space beneath his ribcage. He's quicker, wraps five fingers around your wrist and pulls you in with a hand at the back of your neck. He breathes, warm against the top of your head—"Missed y'tonight."
You hum against his chest, damp fabric sticking to your cheeks, flush and warm with surprise. You can count the number of times he's been this blunt with his affection on one hand; at least twice being in the presence of an empty champagne glass, or five. "Did you drink?" He gruffs at that—the only indication that he heard you at all. "Katsuki?"
"Come with me next time."
You tilt your chin, brow creasing. His head dips at the sight of the first wrinkle, the way it always does when he's trying to change the subject, or sweeten you up, or get his way in any way, really—a habit you must have taught him because you let him get away with it every single time. It's probably why he looks so offended when you pull back suddenly with a click of your tongue.
"That's not an answer."
"Not a drop," he finally says—huffs—with an almost boyish scowl.
You find yourself stifling a laugh, hand over mouth, and he glares, even as you step away to rustle through the linen closet. His eyes are red hot, brow downturned, downright grumpy, only cooling to a simmer when you're toe to toe once more, fresh towel in hand and lightly waving him down to your level. His spine bows, head dips until you're massaging the soft cotton through his hair; you would have had to fight him on this once—years ago—before time weathered his sharp edges, doused the wildfire raging in his heart until he became the man he is now—irritable, arrogant, stubborn, still, but willing—to make amends for who he was before, to extend a hand where he's able, to let you offer him one in return.
"Chose this one on purpose, didn't'cha?" Katsuki's voice is lukewarm, a tepid grumble at the back of his throat, an almost purr when you dip your fingertips against his nape.
"No idea what you're talking about."—but you do. The towel in question, he means, is from the left side of the closet, your side, all soft cotton and fluff; the same ones he refuses to use, for those very same reasons. "Said they 'd'n dry a damn thing' but-" you drape the supposed 'overrated, overpriced pile'a'fluff' around his shoulders to ruffle his bangs, more wily than usual, and barely damp. "Would y'look at that?"
He snorts, hand falling to the small of your back. "Don't get smart."
"Or what?" you keen up at him, at the balls of your feet, tip toes and still barely nose to nose; they bump once on accident, and twice on purpose. "Huh?"
Warm, exasperated breath fans across your cheeks. "Tryna start somethin' t'night, are ya?"
You bat your lashes, head tilting and fingers splaying across the 'v' of his neckline. "Me? Start something?" Your grin betrays your facade. "And what if I am?"
He pulls you in at the waist, holds you steady with one, strong arm, warm lips at your jaw and low, deep voice in your ear. "Better be ready t'finish it, then."
His right hand comes to rest at the back of your thigh, teases the skin right where your skirt ends; gooseflesh blooms all the way up your spine and you shiver. "Who's jumping bones now, huh?" you bark—yap, like a scaredy-pup with it's tail between it's legs—bite lost somewhere between the callouses on Katuski's fingertips and the press of his hips against your own.
You straighten your shoulders to get a good look at the ego washing over his face like miles of trumpet vine. All consuming, a force to be reckoned with. And devastatingly pretty.
"That'd be me, pretty lady," he says, all kinds of smug and annoying.
You hold him with your stare for an entire second—two, just so you can get a real good look at his stupid, handsome face—and then you're pulling him in by the collar, wrinkling the shirt he'll spend too much on dry-cleaning tomorrow. Not that he seems to mind when your tongue meets his, honey mingling with the mint on his breath and making his head swim, all but forgotten when a hand comes to rest at your waist, heated fingertips beneath your sweater, licking softly at your skin.
He walks you back 'til your thighs hit the table—(it rocks, precariously); one of your hands fall against the surface, the other to his heart that thump-thump-jumps when thunder rumbles through the house, and stills. You smile, soft against his lips, thumb tracing the precipice of his collarbone until your fingers can curl around his spine. The next kiss against his mouth is featherlight, barely there; you sigh, contentedly—"I love you."
Katsuki goes a little hazy, eyes the color of early Autumn; the blazing summer sun reduced to a tealight candle, flickering in the palms of your hands. "Yeah," he chokes. And you know just what he means.
You kiss him then, once more, a little more playful this time; mischievous and coy with a cheeky, "—even though you're totally unsexy."
"So help me, y/n, I will howitzer this table."
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hanchette · 3 months
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 : ( wind breaker characters )
a/n : THIS IS SO LONG anyway, part 1/3 of long fluff scenarios as you guys voted!!!!
consist of : fluff, gender neutral reader, crushing stages/established relationship — giving them bento boxes
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𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐎, has always been particular in the things he eats and today is no different, except for that fact that you had initially planned to cook for him.
now, suo made a wrong timing or perhaps right? he entered your house with the plan to spend more time with you.
"what are you cooking?" he has his hands hovering around your waist, chin on your shoulder as he looks past your shoulder to see what you are cooking.
"just.. omelette."
"i see~"
you expected him to let go of you and allow you to cook in peace but suo never part from you, one curious eye looking content to watch the the sizzle of the egg as it turns from translucency to yellow.
there's something so domestic with just this that you can't help but allow the silence the linger, "it smells nice."
"food are supposed to smell nice suo." you smile, "like natto."
there's a stiff silence, and you're made briefly aware of how his arms snaked around your middle, face leaning towards you as his breath fans your ear, lips brushing against your lobe.
"I'm not sure about that." his soft and lovingly kind voice tinted with seriousness that it just wants you to fall into heaps of giggles.
"i am." you continue, finding how his displeasure for the natto somewhat hilarious. suo, although still maintaining the usual smile, stiffen more through his actions.
his arms squeezing you lightly as a small warning, "you do know that natto doesn't smell like anything." he adds, although the tone of his voice sounds a tad just defensive.
"i'm kidding~ you know i won't add natto to the food."
"i wasn't saying anything."
"you didn't have to."
it went on like that, small comments and bickers as the two of you stand in the kitchen with you preparing the box, suo every so now and then helping you out with great patience. "why do you have to put it in a box?" suo questions, washing the used dishes diligently as he looks at your 'masterpiece' as you decorate it.
"i was supposed to give it to you." supposed to, but he did dropped by rather early and now you were left with presenting it to him even though the two of you did it.
"ahhh." suo blink owlishly before a smile erupts, "i see."
squeezing the water out of his hands, he then picked a nearby napkin to dry his hand quick and then went to your side, assessing your work. "how creative, so you can make various shapes with it."
"that and animals, like this!" you showed him, making quick work with the nori seaweed to add final touches to the bento, showing it to him with great pride.
suo claps his hands in a proud motion, "you know, y/n-chan, if you give this to a child, they'll be genuinely happy." he comments, humming in delight upon looking at the various shapes and designs that you did using the food.
"really?"
"yeah, you'll make a great spouse/wife/husband." suo smiles.
𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐍, "hah..?" kaji has heard of bento boxes, but he never received one personally. no matter how famous he is as a member of bofurin, kaji is also infamous for his unsavory personality as others would describe him.
"what is this?" he stares at the sunny egg that stares at him, looking like a mischievous child with its mouth curving like that of a cat.
"a bento..?" you blinked, looking at his reaction as he reluctantly covers it, "you gave it to the wrong person." kaji gives it back to you, hand outstretched.
you smile at him, lightly pushing the bento box back to him, "no, i think i gave it to the right person, kaji-san." you replied, cocking your head to the side while kaji stares at you, seemingly skeptical before putting the box back on his lap with silence.
he's seated on the side of the street where you found him, near a stairway that leads to a small quaint bridge all alone, according to him, kusumi and enomoto both went for a bit to get something quick from the konbini.
"..." kaji stayed silent, looking at the given present, biting into his sucker as the crystallized candy cracks and breaks into pieces only for him to swallow them and pocket the stick—most likely to throw it later.
the thing with kaji, you would always see him wearing his headphones and taking his suckers, but whenever you're around, somehow, his headphones are off and he'd bite into the sucker to crack the candy in order to throw the stick—therefore, he can talk to you clearly.
he uncovers it once again, staring at the laid out cutesy designed food in front of him, he blankly looks at the food before taking the chopsticks that are set on the side.
he hesitantly takes a bite, as if afraid of ruining your work. though kaji is known with his temper, he can be surprisingly gentle. "so, how is it?" you inquire, smiling at him as you watch his cheeks puff as he chews.
he didn't opt to talk, choosing to chew everything before answering.
"it's delicious..."
he placed another food in his mouth. his reply made you beam in relief, somehow he had enjoyed it.
"then! i'll make sure to bring you another one again!" you settled into a decision, taking a seat beside him on the stair.
"it's unnecessary." he clicks his tongue, taking another bite.
"i want to though."
kaji went silent once again, you can't tell if it is because he is busy eating or thinking about your response too deeply, when he swallows the food, he finally replies. "do what you want."
and with the permission given, you beamed, happy that you'll be able to do atleast even this much for kaji.
the two you sit in silence, it's not awkward, no you'd disagree, rather, it's an itching feeling like a rash attempting to crawl its way except there is none.
you didn't even realized how much you've gone out of reality until you hear slight clanking from your sides. "eh? you're done already?"
and in some way, you can't stop the smile from coming back just to see kaji scowl as he looked away, tucking the box and dirtied chopsticks away. "tch."
"pass it here, i can clean that when i get home." you opened your palm, outstretched as you await for him to place the box in your hands.
"no."
"no?" you raised an eyebrow, watching as kaji tucked it beside him.
"i can clean it up," he exhaled, one of his hand going inside the pocket of his pants to retrieve a sucker, "then imma give it back to you next time."
"you don't have to trouble yourself with that you know, kaji-san." you tried again, finding yourself lost why he won't hand it to you.
kaji stood up, the box under his arm, his back facing you. "ren."
"huh?"
"when i give it back to you next time," kaji paused, looking at you through his shoulder, "call me ren."
𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐎, sat on one of the stalls, fanning himself as he popped open a bottled tea, taking a sip before dropping it back down on a table beside him.
the festival is only starting, the lanterns light flicker, swaying left and right in a calming but hypnotizing motion.
you followed sitting beside him with a sigh, able to take a break from the onslaught of customers. today is the same as any other, jo would invite you with him to help the elders in the festival set up and sell their goods. and you would accompany him willingly.
this has been a ritual for how many long now, ever since you met him when he was nothing yet but a middle schooler, now he's in his second year.
it's been a while.
"here." you felt something cool press on your cheek, turning to the side to see togame grinning at you, his hand pressing the cool tea on your cheek. "drink up."
you graciously accepted it, opening the cap as you stare at it. he..
he gave you his own drink..
you shake your head, getting rid of the thoughts before taking a sip.
"heh, that good, yeah?" togame leans forward, his hand holding his head up as he places it on his thigh, watching you chug a good amount. "it must've been tiring, sorry for always troubling you to come with me."
"don't be." you closed the drink, setting back down as you look at him, "i willingly followed you, plus, it doesn't hurt to help every now and then."
a soft grin follows, his lips twitching up as he chuckles lightly, "i thought so."
"ahhhh, I sure am hungry, you wanna grab something real quick?" togame offers, jabbing behind his shoulder where an array of stalls are lined up.
you are suddenly aware of what you had finished this morning. how you meticulously crafted a lunch box to give to togame, frying omelettes and shaping them to small rilakkuma bears, that and how you meticulously shapes the rice balls into more makeshift animals.
"ah, actually-!" you cut yourself, unsure if you should really give it.
would he even like it?
"hm? what's wrong?" togame looks back at you curiously, blinking in surprise as he patiently waits for you to answer.
no matter how loud the festival is, all you could hear is the persistent thump thump thump of your little heartbeat. still, you harden your resolve.
it's the only opportunity you have to confess to him!
"i brought be- bento.." curse it all! was it necessary to stutter? no! so why did you?! it's the nerves that are messing you all up, you breathe out a deep exhale. "ah.." togame's eyes widen in surprise before it morph into a pleased grin.
"you should've said so, chibi-chan." he reaches, ruffling your hair and messing them up, but you couldn't care less for now—not when his large hands, cold from touching the cool tea, are on your head.
sure, togame has been someone you've known for a while now, but even then, you've never shown any interest to deepen whatever kindred that the two of you shared, afraid of widening the gaps if you pour your heart out to him.
togame whistles, gently taking the bag from your shaking hands, "nice one, chibi-chan."
"i told you not to call me that repeatedly." you murmured, slightly pouty but you never sulked, he merely laughs at you, opening the box to reveal nothing but a hidden treasure.
sure, you had burnt a few of it, but nothing too serious to cause food poisoning.
"hmm, they're all animals." he chuckles, popping one of the sushi in his mouth.
"that's because you're an animal." you bicker with him, attempting to hide the look of unrequited adoration through it. this is why, why your relationship with him never fell. never soared. "really now?"
you opened your mouth, but is immediately greeted by a food in your mouth. "chew." togame says, watching as you do so with a chuckle.
there isn't much you could do but follow or waste a perfectly good food after all. "then, if i get to pick what i am..."
"maybe a tern?"
"what is that?"
"a bird."
"why the hell would you pick a bird?" you question, togame merely shrugs, taking another bite and giving another one to you, before he could throw another in his mouth, he points at the paper beside you—which was primarily used to count the sales coming in.
you gave it to him alongside a pen, he wrote something briefly before giving it to you, "here, search it later?" he feeds you another, all the while you grumble why he's continuously feeding you.
when you went home, you opened the paper inside your pocket, going to google to search it only to gasp in shock, flustered.
Courtship feeding is frequently seen in terns.
𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄, you owed him a lot. umemiya has saved you a bunch of times more than you can count and you're aware of that.
the only saving grace you could offer him was giving him mundane things to showcase your gratitude, and now here you are walking towards the famous school known as bofurin with a lunch bag in your hands.
umemiya has told you many times how much you are welcome to come and visit, although you never had the courage to do so until now.
calm down, calm down, calm down you tell yourself, head hung low and lips pursed as you walk through the halls, feeling gazes on you. they pierce through you that shivers run down your back although you kept on walking. it's fine, you could only assure yourself, after all, tasuku-chan is beside you, making sure that no one will bother you.
"are you nervous?" tsubakino asked, his hand on yours, "don't be!" he encourages, attempting to lift up your spirits as he led the two of you to the top of the school grounds.
you often wonder how he can always be so confident. it's nice. "if anything happens, you can always call me, okay?" he bids you, giving you a sweet wink before closing the door and allowing you privacy.
privacy as you enter the rooftop in search of the man who always intrudes in your mind.
"umemiya-san?"
"hm? ah! it's you y/n-chan! wassup?" umemiya notices you in a second, a grace of a smile on his face as he wiped his sweat from the beat of the heat on him as he water his vegetables. "look look!" he ushers you excitedly, and you follow.
ending up beside him as you peer at whatever he is pointing at in a giddy manner. "the tomatoes are already turning ripe!"
so it seems, the shade ranges from a pretty green to gradient of yellowish red. it's growing. "pretty isn't it?" he wears a charming look on his face as he asked.
"uhm, umemiya-san," you started, digging through your bag to offer him a nicely wrapped box, "i came to give my thanks for yesterday.. you know what happened and how i dragged you to my mess then-.." you babbled.
a part of you panicked, what if he won't accept it? oh no what if you burnt something? worse, he doesn't like it?!
before you could talk more, umemiya presses his palm on your mouth, "y/n-chan." he calls your name, unlike before, the excited cheer is gone, replaced by a tender feeling that always has your tummy reeling that sometimes you think you'll need to ask hiiragi for some of his gas-kun10.
"thank you." he tells you, a sincere look in his eyes, "and don't be sorry, you are a part of this town, of course i will always help you."
he takes off his hand, "just call my name and i will come." a part of your mind silences, thinking that you are nothing but somebody to umemiya no matter how hard you try. a part of the town.
but the way he looks so genuine, so sweet as he smiles and looks at you overpowers everything that there's nothing more you can hear but the thudding in your own heart.
umemiya takes the bento from your hands, "now then! bento are better eaten together!"
classic umemiya pulls you up, tugging you to the shed where you know he always held his meeting with his grade captains and his trusty teams.
"uwaahh! these are so good! is that an egg made into a star inside a sushi? ohhh! there's even an octo sausage!" you watch as his face break into a grin, assessing each food with a pleased look.
"itadakimasu!" umemiya takes a bite, humming in delight upon chewing, "so good!" you're sure that if he is an anime, there's flowers all around him.
"here, y/n-chan, ahhh."
"me?!" you gasped, pointing at yourself, "well yeah, we can share, there's enough for the two of us."
"but-"
"after all, i love eating food with you." how could you say no nor argue any further to that?
reluctantly, you agreed, opening your lips to take a bite off of the chopsticks held towards you, "thank you."
"you're a good cook, y/n-chan." umemiya comments with a bright expression, "i wouldn't mind if you cook for me in the future too." somehow, his words felt deeper than it should be.
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katszumi · 6 months
Text
bakugou hated defeat. he was never one to forfeit anything. if he could challenge the ocean to a battle, he would and sincerely believe he’d win.
once, he admits defeat to the universe and chooses to let you slip through his fingers.
when he began to fall in love with your sweet manner, delicate touch, warm smile and witty behavior, he also began to hate himself.
he hated the way he was when it came to feelings. he knew he wasn’t able to express his emotions like a good boyfriend should. he was intolerable, insufferable. something that couldn’t have mixed with you.
love was a foreign concept to him, something he couldn’t grasp but something he desperately wished for deep down, no matter how many times he brushed it off or ridiculed the idea.
bakugou knew love wasn’t designed for him, and he wasn’t ever going to let his silly imagination deceive him otherwise.
but, he knows his heart never stands a chance. especially tonight when he finds you on the terrace of ua. the night-sky wrapped the area in its darkness, the crescent moon illuminating the brightest color it could, and the silent night bringing the greatest solitude it could.
bakugou attempts to leave you be, but your eyes find him faster than he originally thought, him being pulled into your magnetic, overwhelming aura.
“hey,” he begins, a slight waver in his voice from his nerves. “not enjoyin’ the party inside?”
you chuckle slightly, waving his question off. “just needed some air.”
bakugou nods in response. he folded his arms over the railing, taking in the scenery around them.
it was the last night for the third years at ua, everyone celebrating their triumphs, losses, friendships. it was the last time they’d be within this building all together, the last time bakugou could silently admire you from afar. he’d always think about his last day there, wondering if he’d be shouting from excitement. he wasn’t close to thinking that he’d feel like his whole world was coming down.
you were planning to travel to the united states to start your hero debut, receiving an offer there that you just couldn’t pass up. he remembered the moment when you told him so vividly. you wore a huge smile, basically jumping out of excitement. that was the first time bakugou came to the realization that he couldn’t have you.
truth be told, he was scared of breaking paths with you. anger, sorrow, fear. you shone a light on all of those emotions. it felt like his anchor was gone. breaking every stable piece off of him one by one.
“so, what’s next for you? don’t think you ever told me your plan.”
in his head, bakugou replies with, that was on purpose. he wanted to remove everything from his mind. go with the flow and live in the moment until it was officially time to get started on his new path of life. but, he figured there was no more time to put it off.
“stay in the city for a bit. kirishima talked about collaboratin’ on an agency, so been givin’ that some consideration.” he replies somberly. “i don’t know really, just gotta find something to keep me busy.”
you echoed bakugou’s action from earlier, nodding to his statement. a small sigh parted your lips, partly from exhaustion, but also from sadness.
“you scared?” it came out as a whisper, as if it was a taboo subject to never touch on, and frankly it was when it came to bakugou.
he waited to respond, pausing for as long as he could before the silence turned uncomfortable.
“yeah.” something so simple but spoke so much considering bakugou would never admit such a thing. “you’ll be okay though. you got an offer some of us wish we could have, and i heard the states has good job opportunities.”
“i don’t wanna go.” first it came out as a mumble, bakugou unsure if he just understood the words that came out of your mouth.
“what?”
“i don’t want to go.” this time, your voice was much more stern.
“the fuck you talkin’ about? you’ve been excited for this shit the day you got the letter, now you don’t wanna go? as if.” he was aware that he came off a little too defensive, mostly to shield his heart from catching a little bit of hope, he didn’t mean to come at you so harshly.
you peeled your eyes away from him, purposely avoiding his eye contact. looking at him seemed more like receiving a scolding from a parent more than anything right now.
“i mean, the united states? i’ll be there alone, no family, no friends. it’s not the money or opportunities i’m concerned about, bakugou. it’s about my happiness.” you explained. “isn’t that something you’re thinking about too?”
bakugou weighs his options. he thinks he has nothing else to lose, but he also considers the fact of you breaking his heart even more than it is. besides, you were smart, he knew you were going to take the offer anyway no matter how bad your nerves were eating you up.
“you can’t think with your heart about things like this, y/n.” he knows he’s an asshole. he knows you’re looking to him for the reassurance you want to hear but he just can’t give it.
“i’m not! i just want to be happy doing the things i love and that’s not possible in an environment i cant stand to be in.”
“you don’t know that yet.”
“i’m getting a pretty good feeling.”
“because you’re scared.”
you shrug, “so what? you don’t know how i feel. you’ll be here with your mom, dad, and all of your friends. i’ll have to start over from scratch in a country i know nothing about.”
he scoffed, his eyes darting away from your figure. “right because you know exactly how i feel.” his tone bled with sarcasm.
“you don’t tell me how you feel for anything, so sorry for taking an educated guess.” you retorted.
“you never ask to begin with.”
“as if you’d even tell me. you think i haven’t noticed you avoiding me these past couple of weeks? you don’t even talk to me anymore.”
now the roles reversed, you stared at him, bakugou not daring to look into your eye.
he shifted in his position, beginning to become uncomfortable. he replayed in his mind what he should’ve done moments ago instead of coming to speak to you.
“nothing to say?” you were playing with fire, not caring that you were poking the bear. “guess that’s not anything new. you just do whatever you want, say whatever you wish without thinking of the other person, because you’re ‘katsuki bakugou’. the man who cares about none other than the title of being the number one hero.”
“that’s not fuckin’ true and you know it.” he snaps his head towards you.
“do i?” your eyes searched his. “maybe a few months ago i would’ve, but you’ve been treating me like an outcast recently. i thought i mattered to you! i thought we were something!”
“what do you want me to say here?”
“i want you to be honest.”
bakugou clenched his teeth, his jaw sharpening from the action. of course he wanted to be with you, there was no other girl that he could imagine being with. but it just couldn’t work. you weren’t made to be with a monster, and he didn’t deserve to enjoy something so sweet as you.
so, bakugou opted to refuse the truth once again, brushing her off.
“you’re just too good for me.” he simply replies. “don’t waste your potential here. go to america.”
bakugou takes no more time to indulge in your erratic behavior, so he leaves you at the terrace, the noise of the party being heard the moment he opened the side door.
he wanted you more than anything. if the universe loved him a little more, then maybe things between you two would work out. but because of his shitty luck and vexatious attitude, you two just didn’t match.
he also knew there was just someone you were bound to fall in love with in america.
bakugou wasn’t going to lead you on to make a stupid decision. even if that meant destroying himself in the process.
the morning after, your name wasn’t to be found on any of his socials, and his messages to you turned green. if he didn’t know before, then he definitely knew now that he burned anything he had with you.
pt two
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midnightwriter21 · 1 year
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Hello :) please could I request headcanons of the hashira having a crush on a hashira!reader who’s very motherly to the younger demon slayers but shy and secretly craving affection from the other hashira 💙💙
demon slayer hcs: motherly hashira!reader x the hashira pt 1
characters: fem!reader x giyuu, rengoku, tengen, shinobu, kamaboko squad (mentioned)
AN: some of these are platonic instead of romantic.
pt. 2 with mitsuri, obanai, sanemi, and muichiro is HERE
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stop because i love this
you don't talk to the other hashira much
but its not because you don't like them!
they're just a little intimidating
and you want them to like you so bad
but what if you accidentally embarrass yourself in front of them
would be my biggest fear tbh
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GIYUU
this guy is just as shy as you are
awkward asf too
but seeing as you're one of the few hashira that are kind to him..
he really likes you
also really appreciates the way you take care of the younger slayers
especially the Kamado siblings
i mean he did literally put his life on the line for those two
you guys don't talk much when in each others company
really its more of a dead silence lmao
like thats a surprise at all lol
but he enjoys being in your presence
he thinks you have a very calming aura around you
and he never feels any hostility from you
if you guys are paired up on a mission?
my guy is glued to u
no way is a demon going to hurt someone as pure and kindhearted as u
not on giyuu's watch
even tho he's goin to be protective of u during missions
he knows that despite your sweet nature, ur a hell of a fighter
respects you sm
thinks of you as his only true friend within the corps
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RENGOKU
i can never get enough of him i swear
he absolutely adores you
goes out of his way to talk to you every chance he gets
ur all the way on the other side of the butterfly estate?
sunshine boy is hunting you down
ur on a mission a few miles away from his estate?
he's alrdy otw
also very oblivious
you get shy when he starts talking to you
maybe you start blushing
"oh are you sick? your face is all red. i hope you don't have a fever..."
and hes putting his hand on ur forehead to check ur temperature
if he touched me id faint
admires how you genuinely care for the younger slayers
the way you encourage them to get stronger
the way you help them train
the way you make sure they're eating and drinking enough
you remind him of his mother
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TENGEN
when him & his wives finally have children..
ur designated babysitter 100%
being the sound hashira he has a great sense of hearing
so he hears your interactions with the younger slayers
you're not afraid to talk to the kids
you comfort them. laugh with them, scold them, etc.
wonders why you act so differently in the presence of the hashira
makes it his mission to make you comfortable around him
u don't have to worry abt affection when tengen is concerned lol
compliments you 24/7
"you look very flashy today!"
"you are a great teacher!"
"You should become my 4th wife!"
no bc that lmfao ^
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SHINOBU
you two are very familiar with each other
it's very often that you're dragging inosuke or genya by the ear to the infirmary to be treated
mostly inosuke
so she is well aware of how motherly u can be
she's a regular witness to the many scoldings given out to the younger slayers
you also asked her to train you in basic first aid
your red face and stuttered words were so cute she acted like she couldn't understand you
just so you would repeat it
loves to tease you
nothing too bad!
and never mean!
just thinks you're so adorable
really appreciates when shes sent on missions and you help out in the infirmary
wants to be better friends with you
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chososdiscordkitten · 7 months
Text
I'm Stuck!
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artist: yunonoai on twt
Synopsis: Gojo buys new washing machines nd chooses a shitty placement for em ⸜( ´ ꒳ ` )⸝
Pairing: Gojo x Fem!Reader Content: smut, implied reader is thicker than a snicker, established relationship, teasing, r gets stuck between a wall nd said machines, dirty talk, multiple orgasms (f), a sprinkle of manhandling, he refuses to admit he's wrong, cream pie
(a.n) if u wanna see what I picture- look at this
MDNI
When you first moved in with Gojo, you became all too aware of the fact that he was very particular about his design choices. Almost all your suggestions were vetoed the minute you would offer them.
And when the cheap washing machines that came with his apartment broke; You saw this as an opportunity to control at least one room in the now-shared apartment.
You stood beside Satoru in the laundry room- eyeing the small space and telling him, “If you put them here,” referencing the back wall of the rectangle room, “-it’ll feel more open.” you pointed at the wall. Looking at his pensive expression. 
Gojo was just petty enough to ignore your suggestion. Holding a measuring tape and looking at the 28-inch mark. “The website says they’re this big-” looking up at you as he measured. 
Even if you were kinda right- Satoru wanted to put the washer and dryer pair on the opposite side. Leaving only the entrance of the small room- and a small gap between the wall and the massive machines. 
You parted your lips- about to speak. Remembering the photo Satoru had shown you of the machines- far better and more modern than the old ones that opened at the top. 
These new ones had doors that opened outwards- and as you looked at the gap between where the machines would go, and where the wall was. You were sure they wouldn’t be able to open fully. 
But you held your tongue- knowing Satoru would mull it over for a few days before telling you that you were right. 
The space was small- sure. But you were sure it was enough space to fit through, and besides, how long would Satoru let those machines sit in the wrong place before calling someone to help switch their placement. 
On the day of delivery, Satoru looked at the machines as though they were his pride and joy, like he was the one who did all the washing in the house. 
The way the handymen looked at your idiot boyfriend was laugh-worthy. “They’ll go against that wall”, he instructed. 
You were sure the men struggled more in placing them where Satoru instructed than if they just flipped them and pushed them to the back wall. 
Satoru generously tipped them for their efforts, and once they left, you stood at the small doorway. Looking at the washing machines placed against the wall as though it were a laundromat.
“I hate saying it-” he clicked his tongue, leaning against the machine and looking at you smugly. “But I told you so~” 
You grinned- amused at how right he thought he was. You winced, “Do me a favor real quick-” fighting off the laugh about to rumble from your chest. “Open one of the doors.” 
Satoru furrowed his eyebrows at your request, dragging a hand down to the circular door. Smugly popping it open, only to hear it ding against the wall. You puffed a small laugh from your nose at how his face fell. 
“And..” you started, walking towards him and fwipping your hand up and down- guiding him to move. 
Stepping into the small gap between the machine and the wall with the door open, and letting a small giggle leave your lips as your thick thighs pressed against the metal. 
Satoru looked down at your hips that were flush against the machine- he measured how much space the machines took up. But Gojo didn’t account for the space you would need to do laundry properly. 
You turned your head, looking at him over your shoulder. Watching him pull his lips to the side, thinking up some snide remark about how he was still right. 
Even a week after having those machines in the most inconvenient place- Satoru refused to admit he was wrong. He refused to call the handymen back and have them move the machines where you told him to. 
You were more affected by his mistake than he was. Bothersome little doors that had hit you more times than you could count when they would bounce off the wall. 
And all the times you would feel your hips brush against the open machines- you would furrow your eyebrows. Recalling how petty he could be. 
Truth being- Satoru hadn’t called the handymen to fix the minor problem because when you first stepped into the small space of the laundry room- Seeing your thighs press against the machine made him hope you would get stuck one day. 
As though he had manifested it- the day came.
You were doing laundry per usual- struggling with the stupid doors and growing more and more irritated by the second. 
And when you thought you were finally finished- slamming the dryers door shut and hearing it whirr. 
You turned around to see a discarded sock on the ground, thinking nothing of it and stepping back into the small space- hips pressed against the slightly protruding door of the dryer. Picking up the sock with a small huff. 
Straightening back up and aiming to take a step back. Only to feel resistance from the wall- you tried shifting with even more strength. Only for the wall and machine to refuse to let you go. 
You looked to the machine- recalling all the times this very same scenario had happened. Wondering what went wrong this time. And seeing the clear plastic bubble-like door trap your hips. Add that with the bending- causing your hips to widen in the slightest. 
You sighed- frustrated that you had actually managed to get stuck in the small space. You tried a few more steps- a small wiggle, a aimed step back- nothing worked.
And wearing mini shorts- practically underwear that left your plush thighs exposed against the wall and the plastic door. Knowing it would only hurt if you pushed yourself out. 
You held the stupid black sock in your hand as you contemplated calling out to the idiot that waited for you in the living room. 
You shouted his name once- waiting a few seconds to see if he would come running to see what was wrong. 
Only Satoru was sat with a handful of unfolded socks in his lap, watching the show you normally watched together- so focused on the scene playing out before him. 
You closed your eyes- cringing at the cliche you were in. Calling his name once more- with more urgency and a gruff to it. That’s what pulled Satoru from his focus on the tv show. 
His hand reached for the remote and pressed pause- trying to determine if he was just imagining things or if you actually called out to him. 
And when you called out to him a third time, Satoru tossed the socks from his lap and ran to the laundry room. All the urgency in the world.
Worried you had seen a bug, or a home invasion- or every single dangerous thing he could picture happening. Running into the room asking you what was wro-
His lips parted in amazement once he saw your bottom trapped between the machine’s door and the wall. Staring at your exposed thighs and the crease of your ass.
“Don’t just stand there- go get some baby oil or something to get me ou-” Satoru reached a hand out to your bottom, causing you to silence your directions. His cheeks flushed and eyes glimmering full of the possibilities. 
Satoru sighed and smiled, looking up to the ceiling with closed eyes to thank the deity that had granted him his wish. 
Looking back down to your ass- slightly bent and you trying to reach a hand back to push him off, all but telling him again to go get something to help you out. 
But knowing your boyfriend and his peculiar tastes- this was brewing in his mind from the minute he saw your hips against the small space. 
“I prayed for this.” he whispered, earning a small ‘what?’ to leave your lips. 
Satoru placed both of his hands on your bottom, his long fingers sliding beneath the light fabric of your shorts. Softly groping at the skin and peaked his eyebrows. You only clenched your jaw and closed your eyes. 
Hearing the ramblings of the man behind you. “You should’ve just listened to me.” you scoffed, planting your hands on the wall in front of you as though Gojo was doing a body search, trailing his fingers down your clothed core. 
His eyes dimmed- watching the light goosebumps form on your skin, lightly pressing his fingers against the little mound beneath your shorts. Earning a small exhale laced with a whimper to leave your lips. His other hand groped firmly at your ass, enjoying the view below him. 
“No. I know now I was right not to listen to you.” Satoru grinned menacingly, watching your hips try to shift against the whirring machine next to you. 
The tips of his fingers against your clothed core making you let out a shivering huff. “You still want me to help you out?~” Gojo asked- too smug to be considered as a genuine offer.
Satoru made light circles on the little mound at the top of your cunt- shivers running down your thighs as you tried to muster the words. 
“You must’ve planned this-” he scoffed, trailing his fingers to the side of your shorts. A small damp spot formed on them, telling Gojo all he needed to know. “Prancing around all day wearing this-” 
You parted your mouth- feeling the cool air hit your dampening cunt that pulsed with every accusation he spouted at you. 
Satoru sucked his teeth- placing the tips of his fingers on your clit, causing a small gasp to fall from your throat. You let out a ragged breath, his fingers starting small circles against you. 
Trying to keep your legs from buckling at the slow pace Satoru held. A small ‘tsk’ left his lips, full of feigned disappointment. “Tryna tempt me allll day.” The smile evident in his tone. 
You only breathed a small whimper at his words- knowing it wasn’t true, but what state were you in to deny it? 
“M’pretty sure I saw your pretty pussy a handful of times~” he purred- fastening his pace in the slightest. 
Your breathing took up in pace- trying not to let out the small moans Satoru was pulling from you with every small circle he made against you. 
The bulge in Gojo’s bottoms grew with every little whimper you let out- his hard cock twitching beneath the fabric as soft moans left your lips, landing in his ears as harmonies.
“If you wanted me to fuck you that badly-” he hummed, quickening his fingers and hearing the low squelches coming from your cunt. Knees threatening to buckle as Satoru trailed the hand on your ass up your slightly arched back, pushing up the hem of your t-shirt. 
“All you had to do was ask, baby.” he cooed, watching your hands on the wall start to slip as your moans became louder, feeling Gojo’s hard bulge pressing against your ass. Desperate to get some kind of friction, whereas you- were desperate to finish. 
An orgasm so close it had one of your eyes shut and the other threatening to follow its movements- “You didn’t have to scheme up ways for me to fuck you.” he teased, trying to dig your fingers into the wall as Satoru watched you come undone, cunt clenching around nothing. 
Feeling your core pulse onto his fingertips, small shivering sighs leave your lungs as he works you down an orgasm. You steady your breathing- becoming more aware of Gojo’s bulge pressing onto your plump bottom. 
You clenched your teeth- Satoru’s fingers trailing from your clit down to the source of the slick that coated his digits. The other resting on your side to stabilize you. Wouldn’t want you to come unstuck too soon now. 
You were glad you were faced away from him- your vision bordering on going double and the heat rising to your cheeks just thinking about the cliche you were in. Thinking of how easily accessible you were to him at that moment. 
You started feeling his fingers dip into your entrance- too slow and far too eager to prep you. “Just-” you huffed, feeling his hand halt its movements. 
“Just. Fuck me.”
Quiet- but clear enough for Satoru to hear you. 
Huffed and urged as you said it- it made Satoru realize you were unwilling to go through his teasing prep- and in no possession of the patience needed for it. 
Gojo bit his lip slightly, being able to see the tenseness in your shoulders- it wasn’t about him having a good time anymore. No, your tone made it sound like he was depriving you of something.
Satoru wasted no more than a second in tucking the hem of his shirt between his pearly teeth- a smile on the corners of his lips as he watched you writhe. All but telling him to hurry with the puffs of frustration leaving your lips. 
Though his mouth was busy trying to hold his shirt up- his messied hand pulled from your cunt and landed on the band of his shorts, you could hear the muffled giggles of amusement leaving Gojo’s lips as he slapped the tip of his cock onto your ass. 
Leaky as he was, Gojo still wanted to hear the words from your lips. “Tellme-m’right” he spoke with clenched teeth- muffled and barely legible and in a smug tone. 
You scoffed- biting your lip and peaking up your eyebrows. Knowing Satoru is just petty enough to pull away from you and jack off till he spurt his mess onto your ass. “You were right.” you mumbled, earning Satoru to release the shirt from his teeth with a smile.
“What was that?” lightly tapping your entrance with his tip as your hands pressed onto the wall again- planted to stay upright. 
You sighed. “You were right, ‘toru-” you spoke clearly, earning an appeased hum from Satoru. 
Taking his hand from his base- quickly taking off his t-shirt and lining himself up with your cunt. The only thought in his mind was praising himself for what a good idea the machine’s placement was. 
The second he slowly pressed his tip past your entrance- both you and Gojo could feel the difference between when you would be prepped compared to now. 
Soft ringing in your ears as you let out a soft moan, a light sting pulsing in your cunt as he eased himself into you. 
And Gojo- he swore he could cum right then and there had it been up to him. His eyes threatened to fall back into a soft roll as a groan tried leaving his throat. Falling from his lips with the sound of a whimper laced in it.
Even if Satoru had slid inside of you countless times- it always made his go vision blurry. Never getting used to how warm and welcoming your cunt always felt against his cock. 
Satoru spouted a curse- mixed with a whimper as he held onto your ass, bracing himself as he felt your cunt suck him in. 
With clenched teeth- “S-so fuckin’ tight-” he gruffed- making sure to give you enough time to get used to the light sting before he pulled his cock from you. Hands gripping too harshly on the malleable skin of your ass. 
His cock felt a light breeze hit the skin lathered with your essence, wasting little time before thrusting back into you- setting a slow but deep pace. 
Shutting your eyes tight as Satoru’s thrusts caused your hips to move against the harsh plastic and the wall. 
A few more rolls of his hips were all you had to spare- “Satoru I’m gonna fall-” you huffed, feeling his hands grope at your ass firmly- some attempts to assure you that you wouldn’t. 
A light sheen of sweat formed on your thigh, causing you to actually start slipping with every little thrust Satoru rolled against you.
Though he was whining behind you, he could feel your hips start to give against the machine’s door. 
Gojo mustered all the strength he could, dragging his cock from you. Allowing his leaking tip to kiss your entrance ever so slightly as he gave a hard yank against your hips. 
Hearing a low grunt of relief as you felt yourself come loose-only for Satoru’s hands to move you to the free edge of the machine quickly, aligning himself up with your entrance again. 
Pressing his heaving chest against your back- bending you over as his head rested the crook of your neck. Clenching his teeth with a low whimper- your hands planted against the whirring machine- bracing for him to bottom out. 
Only Satoru planted a hand atop yours- grasping it lightly as he slid himself in slowly. 
A sharp exhale took the form of a whimper as it left Gojo’s lips, invading your ear as you raised yourself onto your tiptoes. Giving his cock a new angle, his flushed tip nudging your sweet spot. 
A choked moan left your lips, the hand on your ass rising to your neck. Pulling you back to his chest and forcing your back into a harsher arch. 
Satoru sped up his pace- barely pulling out and prodding the spongy gspot his cock curved into. Barely pulling his hips from your ass with frustrated whimpers leaving his lips. 
His hand mindlessly rising to the side of your face- your parted lips huffing out small whimpers welcoming his fingers. Hooking the digits that brought you to your first orgasm, onto the side of your mouth as he tried to keep a steady pace. 
You could feel he was still holding back- unknowing why he insisted on keeping a medium pace with his thrusts. You clenched your walls around him in the slightest- “F-faster ‘toru,” you huffed, slightly muffled from his fingers in your mouth- earning for his hips to halt and his hands to raise. 
Satoru gulped- his cheeks flushed and ears hot as his hands hooked onto the ditches of your elbows. Pulling your arms back in tandem with dragging his cock out.
Gojo knew that whenever you bark an order, you were giving him permission to do what every part of his brain was yelling at him to do. 
And as he felt the very tip of his cock reach the taut circle of your entrance- he clenched his teeth, inhaling before pushing himself in.
His thrusts were rough- too deep as your shoulder blades pressed against each other- clearer moans falling from your lips. Satoru’s forearms pulling you back with every harsh thrust- unpatterned and sloppy as he whined into your ear. 
Your calves started tingling from being raised on the tips of your toes. And almost as though Satoru heard you- he released one of your arms and reached down to your thigh. 
A smile took shape in a huff- “Up we go~” he grinned with a breathless tinge. 
Assisting you in resting it on the top of the machine, now easily at level with his rough hips. The foot on the ground barely touched the tile- half of your body on top of the machine as Satoru grabbed a handful of ass. Biting his lip as he looked down to your cunt linked with him. 
With every tenacious thrust Satoru rolled against you- he watched your ass bounce. 
And as though it was instinct, Gojo pulled his gripping hand from your ass and gave you a firm spank. 
You whimpered in response- shutting your eyes and muttering a strained, “Fffuck!” his hand soothing the warmth rising onto your bottom- clenching his teeth with muffled groans leaving his pursed lips. 
Your hands pressing onto the top of the machine as some sort of attempt to brace for Satoru’s quick drilling hips. Keeping yourself up on your forearms as his hand gripped the malleable skin of your ass. Groaning harsher and harsher as he felt his orgasm build in his tummy. 
Satoru knew you were close too- the moans you spewed were now shorter and more breathy. Your cunt twitching around him every other thrust- 
“Say m’right.” clenched teeth and a low tone as his thrusts became even more sloppy- bordering on raising himself from the ground from how harshly he was pushing you onto the machine. 
Gojo stopped his thrusts- nuzzling himself inside of you entirely. And staying still- knocking the air from your lungs with a gasp- “Say.” pulling his cock , “I’m.” a firm thrust, “Right.” urging you to with every deep thrust. 
You whimpered, knowing he was barely bumping his tip against your gspot on purpose. 
“You’re r-ri-” he continued his fast pace again- the words trying to make their way out of your lips. 
Satoru grunted with an amused smile- “I’m-” he sighed, “I’m what?” out of breath and edging himself.
You bit your lip, the knot in your stomach slowly slipping with every little thrust. 
Feeling his unforgiving hips nudge you closer and closer against the wall. Your jaw went slack-jawed as he refused to give you a second to answer. 
All it took was another firm spank to push you over an orgasm- cunt spasming around him as he grunted. Sudden tightness sucking him in with every pull he did. 
“You’re righ- fuck-” you moaned, “You’reright-” babbling as Satoru let out a breathy giggle. More than pleased with your mindless prattling. 
As Gojo succumbed to his own orgasm- you groaned lightly, feeling his seed coat your walls. Warmth filling your cunt as your eyes fluttered closed. 
Satoru rode himself down with slower thrusts, still reaching as deep as he could- but slowing them. 
Wincing softly as his tip got a shock of overstimulation, heavily breathing as he eased his hands from you. 
Leaning over your ass and placing his forehead onto the center of your shoulder blades. 
“Call the delivery men,” you breathed- sighing softly as Satoru rested himself atop you. “And tell them to move them.” you demanded- knowing that if they stayed the way they were now- more little instances like these would keep happening. 
Satoru huffed against your clothed spine. “You just said,” taking a breath and feeling his heart pound in his chest. “-that I was right?” keeping a teasing tone as you tried easing off the machine. 
Wondering how on earth Gojo managed to shift you from the floor to the top of the washer.
-
I luv him sm <3
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angelicyouth · 8 months
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Proscenium
⇢ pairing(s): multiple x newkid!reader
⇢ genre: identity reveal ; the stick of truth + the fractured but whole AU
⇢ synopsis: ❝The beginning of the new school year reveals to your friends that you were never a boy like they've always believed you to be, but a girl—and that you have been one the entire time that you've known them.❞
⇢ warning: recreational drug use
⇢ [AO3 link] ; [series masterlist]
⇢ note: this picks up years after the two video games that this AU takes place in (the flashbacks in this story are canon to the games) but can be read with no prior knowledge of them! :)
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At thirteen years old, hormones slowly crept up into one’s life until puberty suddenly hit everyone all at once and all too fast. It was in the 8th grade that everyone came back from summer vacation different—what was once baby fat and ambiguous soft edges turned into more defined features and deeper voices. The appearance of girls altered in a way that could only be described as more developed, filling out in areas that they just didn’t used to.
Mr. Garrison decided that with this fresh transition into the beginning of their teenage years, that it would be a swell idea to teach his students about the notion of responsibility and of all the things that encompass it. This led to everyone sitting on the well-worn yet soft material of the fabric that adorns the chairs in the theater belonging to the town’s local middle school.
“Class, settle down now. I want all of you to know that before we begin, each and every one of you are talented. It may not be catered for the skills needed to succeed in theater, like singing or dancing. But don’t be ashamed of trying your best because I’ll find a job for every single one of you. Costume design, stagehand, the set—they’re just as important as the actors, you hear me?” The older man says in reassurance at his heightened stance on the wooden stage, looking at the sea of students that had varying degrees of uncertainty and excitement on their faces.
With these tentative first steps into their young adulthood, everyone was feeling lingering traces of insecurity and confusion. It was the start of the years where the children of South Park were trying to explore themselves as individuals—trying to find out who they are and where they truly belonged. 
As such, it was also the time where they often felt too ‘cool’ to try hard in order to fit in with the rest of their peers. Everyone just wanted to belong, to not be labeled as an outcast. This was driven by certain people being naturally blessed by mother nature, their hormones making them conventionally attractive whereas some were struggling with artificial things for societal standards such as the condition of their skin or the metal bulk of their braces. 
It was the awkward stage of life where people were more self conscious, more self aware of how they looked and how they spoke—who they hung out with and what their interests were. This was the beginning of when people started paying closer attention to their sexuality, to the genders of the members that each person found themselves attracted to. 
It was also the beginning of when the boys started paying closer attention to Y/N L/N.
See, you had always hung out with the boys, often forgoing the likes of Wendy Testaburger or Bebe Stevens. Not because you didn’t like the group of girls in class (because they were still your dear friends, never forgetting to extend a personal invite to you for lunch on the weekends or to trips to the mall), but more so because the guys had claimed you first. They’re all you’ve ever known since the fourth grade—from when you were still the new kid to now, they’ve always been a constant presence both during school and after. 
You were there when the boys decided to dedicate their free time to live action role-playing games, like superheroes or fantasy. During the nights that were spent finding scrap fabric to put together and painting props for when they donned their multicolored costumes and created super aliases. Or when the Kingdom of Kupa Keep was at war with The Elves for the wooden relic that once possessed the control of the whole entire universe.
The thing was, living in a mountain town like South Park meant that people typically adorned multiple, thick layers of material to help insulate themselves against the freezing temperatures. You, of course, weren’t an exception to the weather as you didn’t grow up here like the rest of your friends, which meant that you always kept either your hood up or wore a hat to keep yourself warm.
Granted, you didn’t find out until later on that your parents were actively trying to hide your identity from the government, but this inadvertently assisted in everyone misgendering you. It also didn’t help that you were silent in nature and therefore never bothered to correct anyone, but on the other hand, this earned you the fond nickname of ‘Douchebag’ and the boys never quite realizing that you were not a boy, but a girl.
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
You were late for the first day of the school year, rushing to rip off all of the paper tags attached to the new clothing your mother bought for you when she realized how quickly you outgrew your wardrobe during the summer. Unsteadily hopping around on one foot with a toothbrush wedged into your mouth, you finally got a leg through the soft material of the skirt that you were going to wear for the day. 
Discreetly trying to open the heavy double doors leading to the school’s auditorium proves to be futile as everyone casts their bored eyes towards the disturbance at the back of the room. Keeping your head lowered in an attempt to stay hidden, your legs rush to bring your body to where your group of friends were sitting.
“Uh, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Cartman arrogantly calls out when your body lands onto an unoccupied seat near him, your eyes rolling as you lay your backpack on the floor beside your feet.
“Aye! I’m fucking talking to you!” The larger teen yells in indignation when you continue to ignore him, his face heating up in anger when the guys begin to snicker behind their hands.
Heaving his body up, Cartman leans closer to you to roughly yank the hood off of your head to identify the current bane of his existence. This, however, leads him to be swept in confusion as the rest of the guys similarly halt their vocal amusement. “Who the fuck..?”
“Y/N—are you here? You’re up next to audition.” Garrison calls out, the boys quickly whipping their heads when they see you haul your form up to begin your ascent to the stage.
“What the fuck are you doing?! N/N’s not some lame pussy bitch!”
A tired sigh resounds from the older teacher’s mouth because it was way too early to be dealing with this shit. “Eric, Y/N has been a girl for the past four years that she’s been living in South Park. Nothing has changed except for your attention to details.”
“Wh—no he isn’t!” He sputters.
The guys stare at you in varying levels of disbelief and confusion, watching as you tuck visibly soft strands of hair behind your ear while Mr. Garrison passes you a script. Not only are you wearing a damn skirt (which the boys greedily eye as they showcase your long and smooth legs), but your jacket is unzipped for the first time that they’ve met you (in your haste to get ready, your scrambled brain forgot to properly zip it all the way up).
Due to this, they could see the way that the fabric of your top hugs your developing curves in all of the right places—cinching the delicate slopes of your waist and allowing them to see the growing but still notable bust that your outerwear has never revealed. It is then that their admittedly slow brains catches them up on the long lashes that gently kisses the red skin of your still cold cheeks everytime that you blink and how under the fluorescents of the stage lights, the pretty pink of your plump lips are further accentuated to slicked perfection.
“... Douchebag..?” Butters hesitatingly calls out, his voice meek in the sudden revelation of information on their long-time friend.
Busy reading the ink running along the script within your hands, the boys become shocked to muteness when your head lifts up in attention to the sound of your nickname. Your head tilts to the side in question when no one speaks, your disinterested eyes patiently waiting for the verbal reason that they called you. 
“No fucking way.” They all seem to chorus because…
… When in the hell did the notoriously mute member of their group become so hot?
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
“I call dibs!” Clyde yells out as soon as the boys step just one foot onto the cold linoleum that covers the hallway’s floors when the last class before the lunch period is dismissed.
“Wh—you can’t fucking do that!” Kenny indignantly cries out, the blonde angrily pushing his parka’s hood back so that he can properly argue. 
“Yeah, I can! Wanna know why?” The brunette smugly continues, his arms crossed in self satisfaction for speaking up first as all the guys glare at him.
“Well, I’m super handsome and insanely funny! I play sports so my hot bod is just as amazing as my smile and I’m clearly so generous and kind and nice since I’m giving you assholes multiple reasons instead of one!” He childishly finishes off, a cheeky grin stretching wide on his face even as Kenny grabs him by the collars of his letterman jacket to roughly slam him against the metal surface of the nearest locker.
“What?!” The blonde screams into his face in frustration.
“That’s fucking lame, dude. If you think N/N is going to settle for some shallow, narcissistic asshole then there’s no point of claiming her first.” Stan angrily spits out, the skin in between his eyebrows furrowed and his fingers fidgeting with the spark wheel of his lighter as he lazily leans beside where Clyde and Kenny are trying to throttle each other.
“Says the self proclaimed rizzler who gets an upset twummy wummy when a cute girl so much as looks in your direction, barf breath.” Kenny mocks in a baby voice, the blonde halting in his attempted murder as his brunette victim begins to obnoxiously laugh at his quip.
“Oh gee fellas… Well if it’s first come first serve, then I guess I’ll be getting this one. See ya!” Butters quickly tries to walk away from the group before Craig grabs him by the neckline of his sweater, effectively choking the blonde until he stops.
“And how the hell does that make any sense?” The taller ravenette asks, an eyebrow condescendingly quirked up and his fist unwillingly to let go lest the blonde tries to pull a fast one again.
“Wuh—well because! I’m the first person that met her, don’tcha fellers remember? I was the one to bring her to Kupa Keep when she first moved in so I’m her oldest and dearest buddy!” Everyone stops walking as they display unamused looks on their faces at the explanation, causing the captured teen to nervously rub his knuckles together at their joined silence. 
Kyle rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, “Yeah—by like, 5 minutes! And I don’t think you should be proud of that encounter because you were getting your ass handed to you when she met you.”
“And what’s wrong with that? N/N is strong and fearless and kind—why, she’s simply a bajillion times more noble for rescuing me when she didn’t even know me! That’s more than you fellas with your constant teasing, and you’ve all known me since we were babies!” The blonde pouts as he soothingly rubs the front of his now tender neck when Craig finally lets go.
Cartman deeply sighs, bringing a hand up to smooth the crease in between his eyebrows. “Just shut the fuck up, Butters. Y/N’s not here for you to suck her apparently non-existent dick, you fucking kiss ass.”
“You guys are acting like a bunch of stupid virgins.” Craig is expressionless as they reach the back of the school where the loading bay is, the chullo-wearing teen leaning against the wall as he leisurely watches Kenny plop down on the asphalt and pull a bong out of his backpack.
“Says you! Why do you even care?! I thought you liked it up the ass, you goddamn cocksucker!” Cartman is quick to yell, shoving both his hands in his jacket’s pockets to generate more warmth against the freezing Colorado air.
“Nyah! We like girls, t-too!” Tweek says, glancing at his ex-boyfriend as the ravenette flashes a vulgar middle finger that he annoyingly sticks into the larger teen's irritated face.
“Now that’s just fucking greedy.” The brunette scoffs, roughly pushing Craig’s arm away as the ravenette savagely snickers.
“That’s rich coming from the selfish fatass who can eat three times his weight in one sitting. Wouldn’t want N/N to suffocate on a date with you when you can’t see her over your huge fucking double chin and accidentally sit on her.” Kyle snarks as he rolls his eyes while Stan wheezes and mimics having a makeshift double chin by angling his head as low as it can against his collarbones to make the skin bulge.
Cartman loudly retorts as he roughly pushes away the ravenette’s laughing face, “It’s funny you say that when you have a fat bitch mom yourself, Kahl! Tell me: did she keep pushing even when you were already out of her gaping pussy because she couldn’t see you over her saggy fucking tits?!”
“All of you are greedy assholes! You guys can’t be good bros just this once and let me have this one?” Clyde pouts, the brunette sliding his back down against the wall until he’s seated on top of the gritty surface of his skateboard.
“No.” Everyone simultaneously deadpans.
“Blah blah blah—okay, now who wants to say grace before I light this baby up?” Kenny smirks up at the guys as he packs a bowl, Stan snorting a laugh as he pushes the blonde on the arm when he hands him his lighter.
“You know, it doesn’t really matter who calls dibs when it’s Y/N who gets to decide who she wants to be with. You can’t force her into anything just because we’ve found out that she’s been a girl this whole entire time. She’s not an object for us to claim.” Kyle resolutely states when it doesn’t seem like a decision will be (peacefully) made, causing the redhead to resort to logic and sense.
“He’s got a point.” Tolkien mutters, the only one not fighting over you as he texts his long-time girlfriend Nichole Daniels.
“Oh, shut the hell up with your unicorns and rainbows pussy talk, you stupid fucking Jew! You’re only saying that sappy shit because you know that she won’t pick you even if you did get dibs!” Cartman retorts before dramatically pinching his nose when Kenny rips the bong and obnoxiously exhales the smoke into the brunette’s face.
“Aw, sick! Your low quality shit stinks!”
“Mmm, I think that’s just your upper lip that you’re smelling, fat boy. You do know that if you’re not properly dusting the crumbs off of your greasy mouth after every meal, the food will eventually go bad and rot.” The blonde lazily grins as he hands Craig the bong.
“Look, all I’m saying is that it’d be best to just give her to me. Isn’t it less embarrassing for you guys if Y/N chooses me because I have dibs as opposed to her rejecting all of you, only to still like me because you’re all just ugly and boring?” Clyde pouts up at the guys, his body swaying from side to side as he rolls his skateboard in one place.
“Sorry Donovan—but I’m not letting a fine piece of ass like Y/N go without a fight, even if I have to fight a bro for her.” Kenny says as he leisurely watches Stan cough after taking a fat rip from the smoking device.
“Didn’t think you were the type to work for it, McWhoredick. With all the easy people you usually go for on the daily, I don’t think it’d be cool for you to just hit it and quit it like you usually do.” Craig straightens up from his previously laid back slouch against the wall, his clenched jaw slightly lifting up as he looks down at Kenny from his heightened stance.
The blonde takes that as a challenge as he stands up from the floor, his hands quick to shoot out and roughly shove at the ravenette. “You’re a fucking bastard, you know that? Fuck you. I wouldn’t do that shit to Y/N.” 
A hand grabs the material of Kenny’s parka at his elbow to stop the altercation from escalating even further, Tweek’s other hand tightly clutching onto the buttons of his top in anxiety. “I-I don’t know, dude… She’s our best friend, you know? That’d be really fucked up.” 
Kenny rips his arm away from the other blonde and eyes every single person in the group with no trace of his usual carefree stance. “Seriously? Well I think it’s fucked up that you guys suddenly have feelings for her just because it’s been revealed that she’s actually a girl.” 
And when no one says anything, the blonde scoffs. “I’ve always flirted with her since we were kids. Sure, I might have covered it up by passing it off as a lighthearted joke so that she couldn’t outright reject me, but it doesn’t make whatever I said to her less true.”
Kenny continues, “And I may be a ‘whore’ but I’m not a messy bitch who’d carelessly do shit like that with someone in our own damn friend group, especially to someone who means so much to me like Y/N. But let it be known: I was always transparent with how I felt and how cute I thought she was even when I thought she was a boy.”
And he was right—your earliest memories of being new in South Park were, naturally, of meeting new people. And when you talked to Karen McCormick for the first time during a day of playing your group’s fantasy game, she had told you right off the bat:
“Oh, hey! You’re the new kid! My sister, the princess, texted me about you. She thinks you’re cute.”
“That’s… That isn’t true.” Stan hesitantly speaks up once the silence seemed to stretch on.
The area of skin between his eyebrows are furrowed as he looks away from the group to avoid looking at anyone's reaction to his words. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket and his teeth lightly nips away at his bottom lip in notable distress.
Kyle is visibly surprised at this revelation, “…Stan?” 
The ravenette still doesn’t look over at his best friend or at anyone in the group, deeming the sight of the school’s janitor emptying out the trash a more interesting sight as he continues, “I uh—there was a time when I felt guilty. I thought I only liked girls but then I started seeing Y/N differently. It freaked me out because I was always into Wendy, y’know?” 
Stan nervously mumbles, “I don’t know when it happened or how, but it was like I suddenly started noticing everything she did. My eyes kept automatically looking for her: to see her reaction when someone said or did something—if I could catch a glimpse of her rare smile or hear her quiet laughter. Even if there was nothing to see, I just liked to know that she was there and that she was okay.” 
“No, I… I get it. Me too, actually.” Now it’s Stan’s turn to look shocked when he finally looks over at Kyle, the redhead sporting a madly growing blush as his hand shyly rubs the back of his neck at his confession. 
“What?! Yeah, right! Quit dickriding by copying your little boyfriend just to make him jealous!” Cartman yells out in disbelief. 
“Shut the fuck up! It was…,” Kyle takes a moment to carefully think of the right term to eloquently express his feelings. “Confusing, right?”
He feels somewhat relieved and comforted when Stan silently nods in agreement, the gesture reassuring him and validating his experience as he feels more encouraged to speak up. “I didn’t know if the lines between platonic and romantic feelings were beginning to blur. I couldn’t tell if I was just mixing them up together or something but after some time, I figured that it didn’t matter because it was Y/N. And so, I was just satisfied as long as I had her by my side, even if it was as a friend.”
It’s quiet for a moment as everyone thinks to themselves, the air somber with only the sounds of the janitor rolling away the trash can being heard as he walks back into the warmth of the school building. The double door loudly closes behind him, blocking out the noise of students inside talking as silence once again pervades the area.
“Well, all this talk about feelings and shit is amazing and not in the least bit boring but I’ve never been confused with how I felt since I already knew I swung both ways. I’m only doing something about it now because you fuckers are going to go for her and like hell am I just going to let that happen without trying.” Craig interrupts, his eyes lingering on Tweek to let him know that he wasn’t afraid to make his ex his rival in this endeavor either.
“Yeah, cause we all know she’s only going to settle for one of you poor bastards if her first choice isn’t pursuing her.” Clyde boasts, his chest proudly puffed out as he points one of his thumbs at his smiling visage to indicate that he was the aforementioned 'first choice'.
Craig snickers at his unbridled confidence as he shoves the brunette and leans over to snatch the glass bong out of Stan’s hands to take another hit. As he lights the bowl, Kenny pushes the taller teen’s face away to inhale the smoke instead.
Cartman scoffs as he snarks the group, “You guys are a bunch of fucking simps. Did your feelings make all of you lame-o pussies? Or did all of your periods somehow sync up today?” 
“Some friends we are—we never even noticed such a big thing about someone we claim to fucking like.” Stan bitterly laughs, forcing the guys to remember the small comments they ignorantly made to you when you were still kids:
Cartman: You know, you have kind of pretty hair for a boy. You better not be a hippie or something.
Jimmy: I thought feminine-looking guys went out of style in the 80’s, but the new kids pulling it off.
Clyde: You kind of have big raisins for a boy, New Kid.
Scott: I’ve never seen a boy with such soft skin, what’s your secret?
Butters: Hey, Butthole. Anyone tell you for a boy you’re kinda pretty?
Kenny: You kind of remind me of my sister—I have this weird urge to protect you.
Stan: You know, for a boy you’re kind of feminine New Kid.
Kyle: There’s nothing wrong with a boy being feminine, be true to yourself.
“How are you guys so sure that she even likes boys? You were wrong about her gender and you could be wrong about this too.” Wendy slyly says to the pondering group as she passes by, Bebe giggling at her companion’s words as the boys snap out of their reminiscing.
Before they walk away too far, the female blonde decides to further antagonize the guys as she sticks out a tongue at them. “Didn’t ya know? Wendy knew that Y/N was a girl since the day that she moved in and you stupid boys didn’t!”
Cartman’s mouth drops open as everyone watches the two walk away in disbelief, “That fucking bitch.”
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
“Sorry for keeping you from lunch, Douchebag! Ah, my bad. Can I still call you that or..?” Scott Malkinson says as he blushes in embarrassment (and for seeing the entirety of your newly revealed face up close for the first time), his hand going up to rub at the brown tufts of hair at the back of his head.
“I mean, no problem if you’re not comfortable with it or have always disliked it! You probably wouldn’t want to go by Buttlord and stuff anymore too…” He nervously mumbles to himself.
You just offer a small nod as your eyes soften around the edges, your hands busy with stapling the packet of papers holding the directions for your two-person research essay for your science class before handing it to him. There didn’t seem to be a point in pulling up your hood anymore (reminiscent of the way Kenny often did) when the boys finally figured out you were a girl.
Zipping open his backpack, you patiently watch as Scott tucks away the report’s instructions for safekeeping in a folder before he offers you a bashful smile. He softly knocks a fist into your arm, “Hey. I really am sorry for misgendering you this whole time. Girl or boy, you’ll always be my trusty sidekick. Right, superpal?”
“Woah there, Malkinson! You’re not tryna pull a fast one on our girl when we aren’t looking, are ya?” Your attention shifts at the sound of Clyde’s voice, an arm being thrown over your shoulders as he protectively pushes you against his body. “You sly dog, you!”
From your peripherals, you see the other guys walking to catch up to where you are as Stan locks an arm around your science partner's neck to put him into a headlock and roughly tousle his hair. You disinterestedly look away when Kenny comes up to you with a wide smile, the blonde reaching an arm out to dap you up in greeting as per usual.
However, instead of stepping back after your half hug, he pulls on your interlocked hands to take you out of Clyde’s clutches and keeps you against his chest. Kenny’s larger hands slowly settles themselves against the curves of your waist as he presses his smile against the column of your neck.
“Missed me, beautiful?” He says, his lips evoking a cacophony of goosebumps as they ever so slightly skim against the soft expanse of your skin after every word.
“Knock it off, bastard. She doesn’t need your rank breath and your dirty hands on her.” Craig angrily mutters out as he pulls you away, only for a pair of arms to sneak around your waist from behind before someone’s chin plants itself onto one of your shoulders.
Kenny scoffs, obnoxiously trying to put said hands onto the taller ravenette’s face. “Your poor people stereotypes don’t do anything to hurt me, Craigory baby!”
Your face is as expressionless as always as you turn to identify your newest captor, a pout on Butters’ face. “That’s not fair Ken, and you know it!”
“Hey, you assholes said it yourselves: I’m always like this. So I’m not quite sure what you’re accusing me of, Butters. Unless you’re projecting your own ulterior motives onto lil’ old me?” Kenny has a lazy smile on his attractive face as he crosses his arms behind his head.
You don’t get to lean your body into Butters’ hold for too long before you feel someone’s hand sneak into the crook of your arm, trying to pull you out of your surrounding warmth. When you see that it’s Tweek fidgeting by your side, you place a reassuring hand on his own as you assume that his anxieties are getting out of control and needed comfort.
“Ngh! Y-you all need to leave her alone!” He yells, swiftly turning over his hand so that he can interlock your fingers together.
“Don’t be nice to him, Douchebag! He’s just faking it so that you’ll feel bad! The whole ‘liking it up the ass’ thing? It was all a FUCKING ACT!” Cartman indignantly shouts as he tries to separate your hands from each other, the blonde barista trying his hardest to not let go.
“Fuck you, ack! It just d-didn’t work out between us!” Tweek defends himself as he tries to bite the brunette’s unrelenting hands off.
“I can see why! Neither one of you have pussies. As I said already: you’re a bunch of fake homos who did it for money and attention!” Cartman yells before he loudly yelps from the blonde’s teeth finally breaking through his skin.
“Sick, dude. You might want to get tested for HIV… Or rabies.” Kyle grimaces as he watches Tweek hurriedly spit into the nearest trash can.
“And don’t be an ignorant piece of shit, fatass. You can still be a girl and not have a vagina.” The redhead continues while crossing his arms. 
“Meh meh meh.” Cartman mocks in a high pitched voice to which Kyle just stares back unamused, “Shut the fuck up, god! You’re talking to someone who was fucking transginger before! Of course I fucking know that! And have some goddamn tact next time, asshole—I was going through a lot of shit so it was a dark time for me back then!”
"Wh—You brought up you being transgender yourself, dumbass!"
Tolkien tiredly sighs at everything going on before handing Tweek his hydro flask to gargle its contents, a frenzied mantra of oh god’s being repeated between mouthfuls of water. He soothingly pats the blonde on the back as the barista bends over, hysterically heaving in panic while Kenny watches and cackles in amusement.
“Yeah, Y/N. You have an unnatural allegiance to losers.” Stan side eyes the two as he finally lets go of Scott, the brunette yelling out hasty goodbyes in order to escape the apparent arguing and to fix his messed up hair.
“Which is exactly why she keeps you around, Stanley.” Craig is quick to snark while he roughly pulls Cartman away from trying to get even with Tweek.
“Not true!” He yells.
Craig stares blankly at the protesting ravenette, “Uh-huh… Staniel, tell me: what medications are you on again?” 
“For my depression? Uhh, Lexapro. I think. Why?”
“I think they need to switch you to the stronger shit or rediagnose you because right now, you’re being fucking delusional. We smoked the same shit just now so I know it’s not whatever strain Kenny has that’s fucking you up.” Craig dismisses, using his height to his advantage as he condescendingly pats Stan hard on the back of his neck and causes him to stumble.
“Oh fuck you—“
Kenny impatiently interrupts, the blonde pulling you away. “As much as I love me some fucking, let’s just go to lunch already! You guys can bitch all you want in the cafeteria—I’m hungry!”
“You’re always hungry though, poor ass.” Cartman mumbles as everyone starts to move.
“Fuck you, I’m stoned.”
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
The lunch room is as noisy as ever from where you stand, your disinterested eyes looking around while your arms get recklessly tugged back and forth. You don’t pay any mind to the curious stares of any passerby and those sitting near your standing position as you’ve already grown used to the unwarranted attention your friends always seem to attract from their antics.
“N/N is sitting with me!” Clyde yells out to which the brunette emphasizes with a pull on the arm of yours that he's tightly hugging to his chest.
“She sat next to you yesterday when we went out and got pizza for lunch, you greedy asshole!” Kenny argues back as he resolutely plants his feet against the cafeteria floor, not budging from where your hands are intertwined.
“Not fair—I haven’t sat next to my buddy all week when we've eaten.” Butters pouts from where he stands in front of you as his hands grab hold of your jacket and his fingers mindlessly fiddles with the zipper of it.
With one last tug, Kenny guides you over to the group's designated table before the other two can react and offers a solution. “Here: my princess can just sit on my lap so that the both of you crybabies can still sit next to her.” 
The blonde demonstrates by settling you over his thighs before he tightly locks his arms around your waist, sending a cheeky smile over your shoulder at the flabbergasted blonde and brunette still standing up. “There! Problem solved. Fuck, I’m a genius.” 
Kyle rolls his eyes as he takes your tray of food in his unoccupied hand and places it on the table between his own and Stan’s, causing Kenny to pout when you stand up to sit where your lunch is. Once sat, you watch as the ushanka-wearing teen opens up the plastic holding your utensils before he hands you your spork.
“Y/N.” You blankly turn your head away from your food to face Clyde.
The brunette leans over the table to wipe a smidge of sauce that was left on your face with his thumb, his finger lingering at the edge of your lips. “You got something on your pretty face.”
Your eyes dart towards his finger when he pulls away to show you the hint of food he wiped off before you lean forward to lick it off of his finger for him. Clyde’s grin stretches impossibly wide across his face at your welcomed action, both of his elbows planting themselves on top of the table that he was still laying his stomach over as he cups his cheeks with his hands and brings his legs up to delightedly kick them back and forth like a lovesick schoolgirl. 
“Fucking knock it off, Clyde!” The brunette yelps out of his daze when Craig grabs one of his swinging feet to roughly yank him off of the table.
“Dude.” Stan forlornly stares at his knocked over can of soda, the carbonated liquid thankfully spilling onto the floor and not on anyone’s clothes.
“You’re a fucking try-hard, you know that?!” Cartman yells as he fumbles to catch his opened pack of snacky cakes before they fall onto the dirty cafeteria floor from the other brunette’s actions.
Clyde is unable to verbally defend himself against the larger teen as he tries to hold his hand as close to his chest as possible while fending off Kenny with the other. While he gently cradles his appendage to his body, the blonde tries to get the prized finger to himself for a chance at an indirect kiss. 
“Talk about desperate. You beg for sex like you beg for food, McCormick.” Craig mumbles as everyone watches the fighting pair in a mixture of disgust and disappointment. 
“Wuh-what’s going on, fellas?” Jimmy asks as he takes a seat besides a stressed out Tolkien, the teen irritatedly rubbing his temples with his eyes closed to soothe the quickly growing headache he was developing. 
“Jimmy! Finally, someone sane. I’m going crazy—they keep fighting over Y/N.”
“Competition? F-f-for what? They say girls love someone funny and I’ve already made Y/N laugh the most in the past!” The brunette proudly boasts before Tolkien bemoans the loss of who he thought was his only ally.
It's only the first day of school, the wealthy teen thinks to himself in dread as he begins to wonder if he should start sitting with Timmy instead.
・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
Taking a sip of your chilled juice makes you slightly shiver, causing Stan to notice from his close proximity to you. Dusting off his hands together to take away any remnants of crumbs leftover from his brownie, the ravenette reaches over to zip your jacket up after he deems his hands clean enough to not leave a stain.
From the next seat over, Craig notices the interaction and what caused it so he takes it upon himself to place his beloved chullo on the top of your head. He reaches across from the front of Stan’s chest and in result, roughly pushes him away (he almost falls ass first out of the bench he's sitting on) as he takes care to ensure that both of your ears are properly covered.
The taller teen simply smirks when the ravenette glares at him for one-upping him—Craig’s hat providing additional warmth and even displaying a mark of possession that simply zipping up your outerwear couldn’t provide for other students to see. Their silent but heated stare-off gets interrupted when someone uses the earflaps from Craig’s chullo to forcibly turn your head to another direction.
“Douchebag, come over to mine after school. My mom got me that new video game we were talking about last week and you’d be a stupid loser to not be one of the first people in town to play it.” Cartman demands after he lets go of the soft material to resume devouring his lunch.
“No can do, fatfuck. Y/N already promised to go to my house so that we can do homework together.” Kyle interrupts with a self-satisfied grin on his face that only serves to make the brunette loudly slam his hands on the surface of the table in anger.
“Ooo, group study session at Kyle’s house after school?” Butters perks up at his own suggestion, an innocent grin adorning his face as he looks at everyone at the table for confirmation. 
“Fuck you, I didn’t invite any of you bastards over except for her.”
“Ditch them, babe—Karen misses you! Why don’t you come over to my house instead so you can visit her?” Kenny jumps at the opportunity to speak up first after Kyle’s dismissal over Butters' self-invitation.
The boys see you visibly perk up as you straighten your back at the mention of the blonde’s younger sister, making Craig furrow his eyebrows together. “Fuck off. If there’s anyone that Y/N wants to see the most, it’s Stripe.”
Stan immediately scoffs as he pushes around his vegetables with his spork, the ravenette mumbling under his breath as his chin rests on his open palm. “I mean, at least he’s not using his own sibling as a cheap way to get her to visit. Not like I can do the same when I only have a bitch older sister at home.”
“Oh! How about a pet play date then! I can bring Rex!” Clyde excitedly contributes to Craig’s words, only for the ravenette to glare at him when they make eye contact.
"Wait, then I can bring Sparky—"
Kyle interrupts Stan before the conversation can escalate even further, “No! I already told my ma that Y/N is coming over so she’s making extra dinner.” 
“Then there’s enough food for all of us to come over tonight.” Cartman says around a mouthful of chicken with an air of finality.
“That’d add another 30 servings on just you alone. So no, fatass, there isn’t enough food for you in my house or even in the whole entire goddamn grocery store that can satisfy the endless void that’s your fucking stomach.” Kyle argues back as his face contorts in disgust at the brunette’s lack of decorum at the lunch table, his hands quickly shooting out to shield both his and your lunch from any spit or stray bits of food.
“Aye!”
You patiently wait for him to take his hand away from where it’s hovering protectively over your tray but as you do, you get distracted from their bickering when Butters holds out a spoonful of his fruit cup. “Here, little buddy! I know how much you like this combination.”
Your eyes soften around the edges in thanks as you lean forward to eat it directly out of his spork, the blonde’s hand kindly waiting for you to chew before he pulls the utensil away and continues to eat his snack. 
“Ack!” Tweek hurriedly fumbles to pour out a cup of still-warm coffee from his metal tumbler, his eyebrows furrowing in intense concentration as he tries to reign in his shaking hands to bring the portable cup up to your face for a sip without spilling.
Clyde watches in disbelief as you bring your body as close as you can from your seat at the table to drink the blonde’s offering, causing him to hurry with sticking a cheesy poof halfway into his mouth. “Here, N/N! Have some of this!”
Kyle’s eyes widen when he sees you starting to lean your face forward in the brunette’s direction, his hands shooting out to stop you from moving any further to give the brunette an opportunity for a kiss. “Y/N! No, goddammit!”
You blankly stare at the teen for interrupting before something moves in your peripherals, your eyes darting to the side to see Craig patiently holding out a chip towards you. As you turn your body towards his, he pulls it away from your face at the very last second.
“Sit next to me in class and I’ll give you a piece.” He smirks when you nod before taking a bite of the proffered snack out of his hand.
Kenny overhears and bitterly tsk’s to himself before placing a hand across the table with his palm facing up, his fingers wiggling as he also attempts to gain your favor through food. Your head cocks to the side at the action before you obediently place your hand on top of his, the blonde interlocking your fingers together as he brightly smiles at his success.
“Good girl.” He gently coos at you as he feeds you a piece of his cookie, his cerulean orbs watching you in endearment when you chew the dessert before he gives your linked appendages a soft squeeze. 
Once eaten, the blonde uses his now unoccupied hand to pet the top of your head to which Stan sneers at. “Quit it, dude. She’s not one of your pet rats for you to coddle.”
“And what about me?! You fuckers never share any food whenever I ask!” Cartman slams both of his hands down onto the surface of the table (again), causing all of its seated occupants to roll their eyes as they settle their rattling cans of soda and water bottles from tipping over.
“You’re spouting bullshit—I’ve offered you food before.” Craig disinterestedly says as he takes the rest of Kenny’s cookie to prevent him from feeding you again and shoves it all in his mouth in one go.
“Only when you’ve dropped it on purpose and told me to eat it from the fucking floor if I wanted it so badly, you bastard!”
The ravenette merely shrugs, not seeing a fault in his actions as he pushes away the raging blonde trying to punch him. “Same thing. Bitches can’t be choosers or however that saying goes.”
At his words, the edges of your lips unconsciously quirk up into a small smile. It’s like Hell freezes over as everyone stops whatever they’re doing to get a glimpse of a sight so rare to see from your usually blank face.
“Quick! Take a picture! Take a fucking picture!” Clyde yelps at Kenny's demand as his hands fumble in their haste to rip his cellphone out of his jacket’s pocket.
You wonder to yourself why you’ve maintained the façade of being a boy when the dangers of the government trying to find you stopped being a threat so long ago. Maybe, you’ve unconsciously been trying to continue the lie because the person everyone thought you were when you were the "male Y/N" was the one that your friends already found themselves loving and enjoyed being around.
And who would take such a risky chance at changing such a beautiful thing like the precious friendship that this dysfunctional group of boys brought you?
But with the way that everyone is acting after the initial nerve-racking reveal of your true identity from this morning, you find it silly that you ever thought for a second that you might have disappointed your friends with who you really were. Because right now, as you see everyone around the table watching you with eyes that look at you as if you held the whole entire universe in just the palm of your small hands, you let yourself know that there was nothing to ever worry about.
At this thought, your smile slowly widens until a full set of pearly white teeth makes their appearance and a beautiful hue of pink paints the apples of your cheeks. This seemingly knocks any incoming words from leaving the boy's mouths as they watch in stunned silence. 
You giggle over the din of chattering students in the cafeteria, causing the guys to lean even closer than before to hear the melodic sound of your rare laughter. “It’s beggars can’t be choosers, dumbfuck.”
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a/n: ((i truly tried writing jimmy as a love interest because duh, it's not team craig without him!! but for the life of me, i cannot write him in fics & i really don't know why **sobs**))
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i2sunric · 6 months
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𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓
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enhypen hyung line fics based on daniel di angelo’s songs.
DISCLAIMER: these fics may contain heavy themes, smuts and angst. please be aware before reading and minors do not interact. i may change some things of the plots if i get better ideas.
STATUS: only sunghoon published.
a/n: PLEASE like and reblog to spread! i may be slow at writing but i promise i’ll publish as soon as i can + listen to those bangers 💋 COMMENT to be added to the taglist of the fic you want.
𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 — 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄
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“you’ve fucked with the wrong type, baby i’m the wrong guy.”
PAIRING: ceo!heeseung x stripper!reader
SUMMARY: during your usual shift at the pub on one late friday night, you noticed a gloomy figure sat on a sofa, his whole demeanour screaming broken. you wanted to fix him, you wanted to make him shine, but some things are too shattered to be put back together. be careful or you might get broken as well.
WARNINGS: rough sex. unprotected sex, dirty talk, sex & sex, heeseung is toxic (or at least i tried), gaslighting, mentions of drugs, daddy issues, self hate, happy ending? (more to be added)
PUBLISHED: coming soon.
WC:??
TAGLIST: open
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘 — 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
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“i miss the way i used to fucking pull your hair, now you’re so far away.”
pairing: ex!jay x reader
summary: after breaking up with your boyfriend, time passed by but didn’t heal as many say. or at least for jay. he fell back in his old habits, drinking and smoking while trying to drown out his sadness; all until you receive a message from him and decide to make things right.
warnings: drinking and smoking. unprotected sex, dirty talk, doggy, toxic relationship, angst, self hate, hurt/comfort? (more to be added)
published: coming soon.
wc: ??
tag list: ??
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 — 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑
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“fucking all the time is wrong when you’re not mine, baby”
pairing: boyfriend’s best friend!sunghoon x reader
summary: just like eva did in the garden of eden, you fell under the serpent’s court and now are under his spell. you knew you shouldn’t betray your boyfriend, jake, like that when he was (not) so right for you, but seeing that he spent more time out for work made you seek the love and affection you needed, and who if not sunghoon could give you what you deserved?
warnings: cheating (don’t like, don’t read). unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), they fuck everywhere and i mean it, toxic, creampie, masturbating, pussy eating, fighting, kissing, jealousy, doggy, missionary, rough blowjob, angst if u squint? jake is a toxic bf, sunghoon low-key corrupts reader, reader is designed with a weak personality. lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.
published: 6th August 2024
wc: 13.6k
tag list: closed.
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 — 𝐍𝐎 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏
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“our relationship was better when we never fucked, like, but just sometimes.”
pairing: fuck buddy!jake x reader
summary: jake should’ve known better than making the drunken mistake of sleeping with his best friend. and he should’ve known better than falling for your tricks and become your friend with benefits. he really tries to talk you out of it but most of the time it’s his dick doing the thinking, and you don’t mind at all. problem is, his heart got tricked as well.
warnings: unprotected sex. dirty talk, fwb, smut, jake is a sucker (like down so bad), creampie, mentions of pregnancy (more to be added?)
published: coming soon.
wc:??
tag list:??
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interstellarrisa · 3 months
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Some subconscious fun
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₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.
You might've heard people saying that are our brain is amazing and capable of astounding things and well they're not wrong. Your brain is the most complex organ in the body with billions of neurons that have trillions of connections called synapses that makes it able to communicate, with this information how can we say that it's not amazing?
Our consciousness is thought to sit at the cerebral cortex and is said to have three levels to it. The conscious, subconscious and unconscious. They're all tasked with different things. I'll explain them all...
The conscious: This is the part that we have control over, our thoughts, feelings, decisions and acknowledgement are all made here. It's what you're using right now to read this post and also where the awareness of you reading this post is. Basically thoughts, feelings and awareness.
The subconscious: It's not in the current focus of our awareness hence called the subconscious mind. It's a barrier that's put up by our mind so that we don't become overwhelmed by all the information that we get when we interact with this world. For example our nose in the center of our vision, the feeling of our clothes or our tongue resting on the roof of our mouth. Because of this barrier we're allowed to focus our awareness on more important decision making and cognitive tasks without getting overwhelmed. This can be noticed when we decide (conscious) to pick up a new skill which can be hard to learn and do before we become a natural at it which then makes it an automatic (subconscious) skill.
The unconscious: It's perhaps the most mysterious form of consciousness since it's not available for introspection or analysis. We do know that it's a hoard of feelings, thoughts and memories lost from our conscious mind, it contains the painful past that we might simply want to forget about. Some people say that we never forget and that it just get's buried deep down within our mind and with the right signals we can recover the forgotten memories.
Now to the fun part. It's a small "experiment" that you can do every night just to see how amazing your subconscious mind truly is. Firstly I haven't found any article's stating that this is your subconscious minds doing, some say it might be your circadian rhythm (internal body clock) but I personally assume that it's your subconscious and if you know loa let's just go with it.
The experiment is you controlling when you wake up. You might go "really, that's it?" but when you first do it and it works it'll feel a bit 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, anyways here's what to do.
Go to bed. Doesn't need to be nighttime you just need to go to sleep for this.
While falling asleep tell yourself that you'll wake up in xxx hours/minutes. For example you go to bed at 00:00 and want to wake up in 8 hours, naturally that would be 08:00 so just affirm "I will wake up in 8 hours." or "I will wake up at 08:00"
Drift off to sleep~
Wake up and check the time and it should be the designated time.
This is actually a technique used a lot in lucid dreaming method's and could also be used in shifting/manifesting/void method's. Since the brain is just like a sponge when you wake up it absorbs any kind of information presented it with and sometimes induces "hallucinations". I'd recommend shorting the time you sleep if you're gonna use it as a method though. It's also pretty similar if not the same to SATS.
This has worked for me on multiple occasions and if you wake up and the time doesn't match when you wanted to wake up it might be because you already woke up earlier and just went back to sleep and forgot about it later, happened with me a few times but because of signals I remembered. I even got rid of my alarm for school because of this and I still woke up in time for school.
warning: if this post does NOT resonate with you or your beliefs feel free to ignore it, you don't need to send hate or make posts on how stupid this is or that it's wrong. some might misunderstand this post (like the last one) and make misguided comments, please think a little before you open your mouth :). yapping session is cause i'm really interested in this topic lol.
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