#they can be a bit frustrating and hard but also fun and the end result is usually cool

[sobredunia]

Also here's a quick sketch of where the cartographers live!! It's a giant observatory in the middle of space. The stars are the AUs and they locate them through the telescope

More details under the cut

The giant bookshelf filled with scrolls is just for quick notes/general maps of the locations of the stars, the real detailed notes are on the room under the main floor, the giant square that you access through the trapdoor

Can you tell which desk is Mar's and which one is Jin's lmao

The giant nest thing right under the telescope is Mar's. She built it as like a side project when she was younger and Jin was away exploring. His jaw dropped when he saw what his creation had been doing when he wasn't looking lmao. She still brings in torn pieces of paper and feathers to this day to make it even more comfy for herself

The stars have different colors and intensities depending on the AU. Most of them are yellow bc. Y'know. Undertale yellow. But they can be any color. They also shine more or less intensely depending on how long ago they were created and how complete the AU is

The most bright star in the sky and the first one to shine was named Star 0, and it's the original game. Jin tells Mar stories about "back then", when the sky was pure darkness save for one small dot in the distance

Mar's compass halo was designed to always point towards the observatory, so she could fly in the endless sky and never get lost. When she goes to an AU it translates to north

Technically, if Mar flew long enough, she could reach a star, but they're so far away and the task would be so tiring it's not worth it

As I said, this is just a quick sketch, so there are a few things that I haven't put there, like a hammock that Jin sleeps in sometimes

...Though it's not like he's currently available to use it

@rotkad @butchlesbianyaoi-deactivated2024 @blackfright @beetroot-merchant @ashs-hellhole @h3xt0r @bree-sae @helloidkwhatimdoing-0 @zecrisketch

Art taglist :3

[b0r3dtod3ath]

Hello hi!

Can you do a challengers fic?

Art x reader, where he and reader had a flirty relationship but he started to experiment with tashi and patrick and she was like "well, it happens" but the trio didnt work out so he tried to recandle that dinamic between him and reader but she lost all the atraction to him.

(lots of groveling)

Thank you!

Thank you for the request!

Warnings: Mention of an injury, curse words. 

You and Art have been friends since middle school and since then he was always by your side. Your shared interest in tennis and joint decision about applying to Stanford resulted in you two being inseparable best friends. Well, maybe not really. Your relationship was quite hard to describe. People constantly mistook you for a couple but in reality you were just really close. Sure, there were a lot of flirtatious moments, some may even say romantic, but you never thought about it too deeply, thinking that it’s just the way Art is. 

Each morning he knocked vigorously on your dorm room door. “You need to wake up! We need to go.” The sight that he sees when you open the door always makes his heart skip a beat. Messy hair and a toothbrush in your mouth give him a glimpse of what it would be like if he was living with you. “Good morning!” He gives you a beautiful smile as he hands you a coffee in your favorite thermos. He insists on doing it because “it saves time in the morning as he’s up anyways”. Oh and also when you finish he takes the cup back to clean it so he doesn't bother you in the morning. His friend Patrick has always made fun of him for those small gestures but he recently got a girlfriend so he’s busy. Actually, you have heard of Tashi. She attends your school and you were supposed to play against her in a local tournament. You have heard that she’s really good but people also always point out your skills.

You head to the canteen, sipping your coffee as Art tells you about Patrick’s new girlfriend. It’s not like you are jealous but hearing your male best friend ramble about another girl is weird. You keep quiet, after all there was nothing romantic between you two. You eat your breakfast without saying much which goes unnoticed to your friend. He stops eating, looking at your face for a moment, trying to figure out what’s going on in your mind “I saw they had watermelon in the fruit section. I can bring it for you if you want. Did something happen? You know you can always talk to me. I will always be there for you.” The gentle tone in his voice almost feels like he is talking to a lost child, scared to make you withdraw. “No, no. It’s fine. I’m just a bit less confident about the next match. You know, after what happened a few days ago, my leg still sometimes cramps up a bit.” you halfy make up a lie. You were stressed about the match but it had nothing to do with your calf. “You should have told me earlier. I will massage it before we train today. You are going to do amazing".

He didn’t listen to your begging not to knead your muscle so you ended up with him rubbing it firmly enough to “help you” but gently enough not to hurt you. As you trained he could sense your frustration. Sure, it made you more confident on the court as you transferred your anger into each fore and backhand. Then suddenly you stop. Your opponent gives you a confused look as you out of the blue ignore the ball. “I don’t feel well. I’m gonna call it quits. I have a test tomorrow anyway that I should study for. I can’t be hitting a ball with a racket my whole life.” you look at him, his expression as shocked as a moment ago. “See you in the evening?” You two usually had some evening tennis sessions or just went for some walks as there were not many people around that time and you could freely chat about anything. “Well. I can’t actually make it today. I’m really sorry. Patrick invited me for some drinks. He wants me to meet Tashi”. His eyes looked like they belonged to a puppy. “Oh, yea. I mean. That’s fine. See you tomorrow then.” you say without giving him the usual light hug as a goodbye.

The following morning Art didn’t knock on your door. You assumed he must have been tired from the day before but it still felt unusual. You decided to push it aside and focus on yourself and your preparations to play against Tashi. The match started at 2 pm so you still had some time to get ready. You followed your usual routine with only one exception - your regular companion. 

The tennis court simmered under the midday sun, a gentle breeze whispered through the air, carrying a promise of an intense match. It was one of the most anticipated matches of the season on the Stanford campus. It was the end of a debate of who is the best tennis player among students but most importantly it was evidence of passion for sports and competition. You looked at Tashi coming on the court, getting a bigger applause than you did. You didn’t let it bother you, it didn’t matter who was the fan favorite, it mattered who was better. You were first to serve. Silence established itself on the court, a neon yellow ball bounced a few times between your hand and the ground. You looked deeply into your opponent’s eyes. It wasn’t a game of tennis, it was a battle for dominance. 

A thunderous serve from you, the ball sliced through the air with precision. Tashi returned it with equal force, the ball skimming just inches above the net. Back and forth you played, each stroke a testament to your skill and determination. The crowd watched in silence, fully immersed in the spectacle unfolding before them. As the match wore on, the intensity only seemed to grow. Tashi unleashed a powerful forehand, sending the ball to the other side of the net. But you were quick to react, sprinting across the court with lightning speed to return it with a perfectly executed backhand. The crowd erupted into applause, recognizing the sheer athleticism on display.  The game continued in this fashion, each player refusing to give an inch. Your muscles burned like they were on fire as you chased down every shot, your mind focused solely on victory. On letting her know who Art belongs to. 

Then, in a heartbeat, disaster struck. As Tashi ran to return a particularly fierce shot, her foot slipped. Time seemed to slow as she stumbled forward, her knee buckling beneath her weight. With a sharp cry of pain, she collapsed to the ground, clutching her injured leg. She started crying like a hurt animal, unable to think what people thought of her. You stood there in pure shock, unsure of what to do. In the corner of your eye you saw Art running up to her and trying to calm her down. 

You felt really bad for her. Not liking her didn’t mean you were happy for her injury. After asking the medical team about her, you got to know that she’s waiting for an ambulance. When you found her, your heart immediately dropped at the sight of Art holding her hand. “I just wanted to say, I’m so sorry it happened, I-” you started to apologize, “Out! Out! Out!” she screamed at you “But-” you tried to say something but Art stood up “Get the fuck out!”. He had never raised his voice towards you. He was always your gentle, soft, good boy. You silently walked away as hot tears rolled on your cheeks. The echo of your sobs filled your room for the whole night. 

For the next few weeks you didn’t see Art. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to see him, you did actually, but he was always accompanied by Tashi or Patrick. It did make you feel a bit lonely but you focused on training and improving. You actually started to do really well and moved up the rank. Despite an opportunity to get an apartment you stayed at Stanford. You told everyone that you would feel lonely living alone, but the truth was you just didn’t want to leave Art. He would still sometimes catch your glimpse across the canteen or the training hall but no words were exchanged. 

He found you one evening, your silhouette illuminated by the artificial glow of the light. You were alone, your movements fluid yet tense as you practiced your strokes with precision. Taking a deep breath, Art approached you cautiously, unsure of how you would react to his presence. "Hey" he said softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. You turned to face him, your expression stone cold. You said nothing. A hint of bitterness in your eyes. "I-I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said, his words stumbling over each other in his nervousness. "What do you want?" you snapped, you tone sharp and cutting. Determination glinting in his eyes. "I saw you playing alone, and I thought... maybe you could use a partner," he offered hesitantly. You scoffed, your grip on the racquet tightening as you glared at him. "And why would I want to play with you?". Art took a step closer, his gaze unwavering as he met your overwhelming stare. "Because I miss playing with you, I miss you" he admitted softly. "And because I'm sorry. Truly sorry for what I did." You hesitated for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you considered his offer. “Don’t you have to take care of your little Tashi’s leg?” you said under your nose. "Fine. But don't expect too much" you warned.  

As you began to play, your movements were sharp and precise, your shots landing with deadly accuracy. Art did his best to keep up, but he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. You had always been better than him but he could sense something else. After all, tennis was the most intimate out of all sports. Suddenly, you unleashed a powerful forehand that sailed towards Art with an alarming speed. Instinctively, he raised his racket to block the shot, but it ricocheted off the strings with a resounding thud, leaving him staggering backwards. "Are you trying to kill me or something?" he exclaimed, his heart racing as he moved closer to the net. You turned around -  a little habit you gained, you never looked at your opponent after scoring a point. "Maybe," you replied nonchalantly, your tone betraying a hint of amusement. Art chuckled nervously, rubbing his sore arm where the ball had made contact, as he got closer and closer to you. "Well, you can kill me if you want," he offered, making you chuckle. He reached to touch your hand, his expression pleading, as you turned. "Please. I know I messed up, but I can't stand not having you in my life. I... I have feelings for you. And I need you to know that. I don’t see you as just a friend." You felt your heart skip a beat at his confession, your breath catching in your throat. You had suspected as much, but hearing him say the words out loud sent a jolt of electricity through your veins. "I... I don't know, Art” you responded, torn between the anger still simmering inside you and the warmth of his words. "You ditched me for her. "Art nodded, his eyes brimming with regret. "I know. And I'm so sorry. I was weak and I thought you would never look at me the same way I look at you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear." he got on his knees, both hands holding yours. “I will never leave your side, I will show you how much I love you and I will buy you this diamond bracelet you always wanted.” You chuckled “Art, get up. I don’t need a bracelet from you. I will give this a chance.” A smile broke across Art’s face, relief flooding his features as he reached out to wrap you in a tight embrace. "Thank you, I promise, you won't regret this." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and eyes wet with tears. You returned the hug. The two of you swayed for a moment before you broke the silence with your dead serious tone. “Never raise your voice at me again, understand?” He looked deeply in your eyes. “Understood, maam. I’m incredibly sorry”.

April 29, 2024

[fraugwinska]

Could you do a backstory to Hard Day? Like, how Al decided to give up control, and the first time it happened 🥺🙏

Ummm... well, I may have gotten myself a bit lost in this one :D Idk, It's gotten quite out of hand, 2,5 k words... but...um yeah :D Praying you like it :> Attention - we cook with Chili, not salt today! (MDNI)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

The hardest Day

„That's so unrealistic! I mean, in what world would a lion eat bugs instead of the fucking fat juicy PIG?!“

„It's a kids movie, asshole, shut up!“

The gang was sprawled out in front of the TV, blankets and popcorn everywhere. Charlie got her hands on a rare copy of 'The Lion King', and invited everyone to a 'nice, unproblematic, quiet' movie night. She didn't account for Angel's constant commentary, Husk's annoyed retorts to him or Niffty's gleeful giggling at the most unfitting scenes. Vaggie, frustrated by them, started adding to the chaos, sending scolding remarks in intervals at either of them, while Charlie tried to mediate in between songs – which she always sang along with.

You, however, were highly entertained – even though you didn't catch anything from the movie, just watching them was amusing enough. The only one missing was Alastor, who had 'business to attend' and was gone since breakfast ended.

He would've hated it anyway, you knew he had no interest in movies, let alone modern ones, and group activities like these were often straining on his patience. Although getting in the hotel last, you were the one who grew the closest to him. Why? You couldn't say definitively. Maybe it was because you never took his veiled jabs by heart. Maybe because you didn't treat him the way the others wanted you to – with care, with ignorance, with suspicion; but instead with respect, an open mind and without judgment. Maybe it was because you could challenge him – discussions about books you both read could last hours, with points given to either side equally – no winner, no loser, both richer.

You liked Alastor. Really liked him. You also had a silly, little crush on him, for a while now, but you kept that to yourself, nothing going further than a few flirtatious moments 'in good fun', calling each other 'doe' and 'buck' with a laugh. A joke between friends. Friendship, you decided, was enough for you, if it was for him.

The entrance doors slammed suddenly, making you all jump in your seats. Alastor stood at the door, looking... different. Stressed? You cocked a brow when you saw his eye twitch, while he sauntered over to the group.

„Al, do you want to join us? We're watching a movie!“, Charlie said absent-mindedly, her eyes glued to the scene of 'Can you feel the love tonight'.

Alastor gave the TV set a judgmental smile and waved his hand. „Tempting, but it has been a rather hard day, I'll just take a drink and retreat to my room, dear.“ He left the group and went to the bar, your pair of eyes the only one following him. Something was NOT right. His smile was tight, his eyes wider than usual, his movements almost jagged instead of fluid. Niffty had jumped to the bar too, insisting on helping Alastor by retrieving a glass for his whiskey from one the higher shelves. In her eagerness to climb and get it, she didn't watch her steps careful enough, resulting in a few delicate wine glasses sliding from the shelfves and breaking into a hundred tiny pieces. Alastor's reaction was as unexpected as it was worrying – he always had a soft spot for Niffty, laughing over her antics and chaotic energy, often encouraging her even to produce more mayhem. This time, however, he started to scold the maid, who blinked at him with a big, guilty eye and trembling lips.

„Such indignation, really Niffty. Clean the shards at once, and try not to remain to be such a clumsy clot.“, he almost hissed, grabbing the bottle and a simple crystal glass before striding away hastily. Your eyes followed his figure until he turned the corner to the staircase, then you got up and comforted the little demon, helping her sweeping up the glass pieces while she sniffeled tears away.

You let your gaze swipe over the group, completely ignorant about what happened with Niffty, and Alastor. Ignorant of the blatantly obvious bad mood of the deer demon.

Turning to Charlie, you whispered to her that you had a headache and would be going to bed, to which she just nodded. No one acknowledged your leave, all eyes on the screen and still bickering noisily. A bunch of friends, you are, you thought annoyed with a shaking head.

Three flights of stairs later, you reached Alastor's room. You pressed your ear to the door, and heard dull bangs, like something was thrown, and a muffled voice. You knocked, and the room instantly stilled.

„Alastor, it's me.“, you said loudly, brows furrowed. „Are you okay?“

A few seconds of silence. „I'm just fine and dandy my dear.“

You put one hand on the door. He normally would open it, to speak with you directly, face uncomfortably close to face, just the way he liked it. But it stayed close.

„You didn't look fine.“, you stated. You were ever so stubborn.

„Well, I am fine. Now shoo, darling, good night.“

You stood in front of the wooden divider, contemplating. You could just go. Leave him be, wait until tomorrow. See if he would talk to you then. But then, there was your gut. And it told you Alastor wasn't well. And that just didn't sit right with you.

„Alastor. Please, let me in.“

No response, just hint of the prickling feeling of static electricity on your skin.

„I know something is bothering you, and I'm worried.“

No response. You breathe in and out.

„I'm not going anywhere until you open the...“

The door flew open, a hand wrapped around your arm and pulled you into the room, violently. You stumbled and fell against a bookshelf, catching the fall with your hands to keep you upright. You heard a slam and a click – door closed, door locked. The static was everywhere now, flushing in waves over your body. You turned around -

Alastor was pacing like a wounded animal, he seemed fluffed up, as if every hair on his body had decided to stand up. His scleras were dark pits, blackest black, and in it his irises burned angrily in crimson flames, now focusing solely on you. The prey.

„So you came to test my patience too, dear?“, he snarled, his voice so distorted it ached in your ears. „It's not enough that that waste of cables destroyed two of my radio towers. Not enough that dozens of my most profitable souls have been rendered useless by an angelic bomb. Not enough that I not only had to put the disgraceful flat screened wretch back in his place, but also his vulgar boy toy and their brazen, attention-seeking brat.“

He grew in size as he ranted, you watched him reaching the ceiling, antlers scraping along the walls. „I manage my weakening territories, manage these imbeciles who think they can play overlords, I manage this sad excuse of a hotel, I manage the princess's unattainable ideas, and now, I also need to manage you, too, of all people? What a disappointm...“

„Stop.“

You held up a hand. Alastor growled, fluffing up even more, limbs cracking and static popping. „How dare y...“

„Stop.“, you said again. Your tone was calm, void of anger, or fear, neutral and steady. He stared at you, and you held his gaze. „Breathe, Alastor.“

You saw him fighting with himself. He fought against his instinct to oppose, to command, to put you into your place, to rip you apart. His elongated claws scraped over the floor, ripping deep ridges in the wood.

„Breathe.“, you repeated, firmer this time.

Slowly, gradually, Alastor shrunk. Breathed. Crumbled. Until he was back to his usual size and form, only with an exhausted expression.

You studied him – you've never seen him like that. He never allowed anyone to see him as something other than 'the radio demon': Powerful, unshakeable, quick on his feet and always one step ahead. How exhausting it must be. To always have the control also meant to always carry responsibility, to always fear impending failure.

Your heart whispered to you, and you followed it's advice. It could be the most stupid thing you could do, but you decided to do it anyway.

„Come here, Alastor.“

He looked at you, unsure, suspicious. You sounded commanding, but not harsh. Inviting. Like a hand, reached out to someone trapped. For a moment, you almost thought you ruined everything – his eyes left yours, they fell to the ground as he shifted on his feet.

But then – steps. Coming closer. Stopping right in front of you. And suddenly..

His head on your shoulder. His breath on your neck. His voice in your ear.

„Sometimes I'm so sick of it all. Sick of maneuvering, sick of ruling, governing, planning...“

You touched his neck, he let you, caressing the soft skin, heated from his outburst, trembling slightly at the contact. It was intimate, baring this vulnerable part to you. You heart broke for him.

He pulled himself away from you, searching for your eyes. Finding them again, he took your hand, bringing it up to his face, guiding your fingers over his lips. He just said one word.

„Please.“

So much was said with this please. You heard every message. Giving up control, just for a bit, just with something he didn't care enough about to insist on ruling, could be a small bit of freedom. Letting himself be guided instead of leading.

“Kneel down, Alastor.”

His ears pressed flat against his head, but he did as he was told. He couldn't look you in the eyes. For once, you were the one towering over him. You took his face in your hands, pulling it so he looked up to you, seeing your warm smile before your lips met his.

His breath hitched, stuck somewhere in his throat.

You slid one hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, the other caressing his cheek as you tilted your head and deepened the kiss. Slowly, the rigidity melted away, he started to shift, lips no longer stiff but soft and molding against your own.

He tried to stand up, but you pushed him down, gently, definitively.

“Trust me to guide you, buck.”

He breathed, one, two, three times, eyes closed, grin tight.

“Yes, doe.”

Your own excitement took a back seat. You were filled with pure energy at the thought of crossing the line with him, having Alastor in a way you only dreamed about, convinced your relationship would never come this far. But. But this was not about you, for now. Maybe, another time. If another time ever came.

You lowered yourself on him, straddling him, so you were still 'taller', and rejoined your lips. You took his hands and set them on your hips, let them rest there while you buried yours in his hair, tugging lightly to bend his head back. His initial resistance lessened, and he gave in, exposing his throat, gray skin peeking out of his high collar. You let your mouth travel to his jawline, down to the small patch of delicate, thin skin, right next to his jugular. You felt him tense, felt his rising urge to protect himself from your potential strike. You let out a soft hum as you started to lick it, sucking gently, just a bit, just to make him shiver at the sensation. And how he did.

A moan, low and sweet like the strumming of a cello, escaped him, his hands crushing your hips by the force of his grip. It hurt, but you decided to ignore it. Little steps.

“Can you take more, good boy?”

His eyes snapped open, burning furiously. You met them with calmness, with a soft matter-of-fact-ness. Not smug, not mocking. A question. Proceed or Stop?

Alastor swallowed hot saliva. You could see he was getting overwhelmed, overstimulated, and yet, he had such a longing in his eyes, such desperation.

“Yes.”

One simple word. One spark, setting your body on fire. You tried to force your trembling fingers to steady, lifting yourself slightly off him to open his trousers. With every button, his breaths grew heavier, his grip on your legs grew tighter, claws already digging in your skin and drawing blood.

“Careful, buck. I'll need these in a moment.”, you said, placing both hands on his chest, pushing him flat on his back on the ground. He let you go, arms falling useless next to him.

You leaned forward, thanking any deity that would listen you decided to wear a skirt today, and placed a hand on his growing bulge. He hissed at the touch, cracking the floor as his fingers clawed into the wood of the floor instead your fleshy legs.

Freed from it's cage, Alastor's dick was already dripping with beads of precum, a sight to behold. You wrapped your fingers around it, feeling the warmth and bloodflow, it twitched in your hand. You stroke him, eliciting the most sinful noises from the demon under you.

You took a deep breath. One more, one question more, to make sure that he wanted it.

“Look at me, Alastor.”

He sat up on his elbows, looking more helpless than you've ever imagined he could. Even his smile wavered, threatening to break. You were looking for any signs of hesitation, disgust, resistance, regret. You only found desire. A want, a need, almost pleading eyes.

Your free hand pushed your panty away, enough to expose your lips, and you lowered yourself onto him, his length slowly entering you. He was big, you were tight. A bittersweet combination. Sparks flew before your eyes as he stretched you, but you were hypnotized by his eyes.

They were blown wide, returned to black, but the irises now flickering into dials, turning, left to right as he groaned. You moved, guiding your hips up and down, feeling yourself molding to his shape in the most delectable way, and getting drunk off the look on his face.

You increased the pace on which you pushed yourself on him, adding a little tilt of your hips to take him even deeper. His voice was reduced to a static-y mess, hums and groans and moans bleeding into each other. You placed both of your hands on his chest for more support, inevitably pinning him down. His hands flew to yours, threatening to push them off him, but instead, he entwined his fingers with yours, panting heavily.

It didn't take long for him to feel the pressure, unbearable and urgent, his release approaching at godspeed.

“Doe, I can't...”

Panic in his tone. He tried to put his hands on your waist to pull you off. You understood immediately – an upbringing in conservative times, decades of living by the rules of a gentleman, he was resisting against the thought of cumming inside you. You pushed his hands away.

“Yes, you can.”, you stated, smiling at him, a hint of wickedness in your eyes. “And you will.”

Your skilled movements and dedicated demeanor sent him over the edge immediately. Protests were futile as he came in you forcefully, you felt his cock pumping his seed deep into you, hot and thick as you rocked him through his orgasm. Your own high wasn't worth chasing, too far away to matter. You didn't even think about it – nothing could feel better than this.

Alastor ran his hands over his forehead, sweeping away beads of sweat as his breath calmed down.

His hand shot out to grab you, and, still impaled by him, he pulled you into his chest, invading your mouth with his tongue to kiss you possessively. As if to transfer the command, the control he had given up, back to him. Taking it from you.

For a moment you were scared. The positions had reset to their default. Would that mean he'd push you off? Say goodnight and never talk about this night again? Returning to the Status Quo. Friends, the end.

Alastor pulled your chin up to look at you. His thumb ran over your cheek, tenderly and full of care. His eyes answered every question in your mind. You weren't scared anymore.

[nyctocounterfeit]

Sonic Prime

Omfg I think I am done with this drawing, it was a lot of stress. I did a lot of stupid small mistakes and should of planned the sketching part a bit more. My initial plan was the have all of them in original persona with shards reflecting their shatterverse persona but it looked awkward so I instead did the complicated approach and drew them three times which took a ton of work because i also change their pose for each shatterverse otherwise it would look weird and lazy. However eventhough this work gave me a ton of headache and frustration I would say, it could be a lot worse and am happy with the final result. Did I make some mistakes yeah I’m pretty sure I did and can edit it later. I’m ok with that lol. It was hard to find references at the time, so if I made a mistake, I’ll come back to it. I just want to draw something else in the mean time. Maybe more sonic sketches or kingdom hearts or maybe a collab because I’m thinking of the sonic 2022 and Kh 20 anniversary, this year was soooo crazy.

but what about sonic prime, is it a good show? A bad show? I think you guys have your answer right here. I would say honestly this has to be the best sonic show I’ve watched. I did watched, sonic x, underground, sat am and some of boom. But I really liked the characters here, they were fun and had an interesting approach to each of their shatterverse persona. but I love the smear animation approach because not only could they get away with using less frames, it make it very dynamic, actioning and fun also a nice reference to how sonic was design based on the rubber hose era. I even bought a sonic 25 anniversary book this year and it’s a fun read. But yes, enough of the chit chat, I’m happy with this drawing at the end, I hope you guys enjoy it.

[starrclown]

☆ LMK headcannons before I go to sleep ☆

Ao Lie has a BIG smile because of him being a horse. He also has super sharp teeth because he's a dragon as well. This results in a HUGE smiled with razor sharp teeth that most people don't like.

Mei has a smaller smile with duller teeth because of how far down the generational line she is. She also has smaller horns and very few scales.

Tang is SUPER competitive in games. Like HARD core competitive.

Macaque has SERIOUS resting bitch face. He looks made all the time besides when he's with Wukong or the monkies.

Mk didn't know what kind of relationship Wukong and the monkeys had so when the little ones called him "Dad" and "Grandpa" instead of "King", it confused the hell out of him.

Mk also didn't know that Redson was Wukong uncle till Wukong casually dropped it in a training session.

Wukong is Redsons godfather.

Macaque hates having long hair because it makes him too hot for his liking. Hell cut it if it gets past the bottom of his neck.

Sandy has a fluffy orange cat and named him "Wukong". He has also done this with Mk, Mei, Tang, Pigsy, and recently, Redson.

Redson loves ice cream but he has to eat it super quick or it will melt.

Wukong is SEVERELY claustrophobic for obvious reasons. DBK is also claustrophobic, but to a lighter sense.

Macaque uses corny jokes and flirts on Wukong and somehow Wukong finds it charming.

In the battlefield Wukong is elegant and precise, in his normal life he slams his hip into ever corner possible.

Chang'e is NOT a lightweight. She could drink for hours and only be buzzed.

Wukong hides under Chang'es counter so that way he can still be on the show but not be on camera. He likes to luck bowls she's not using anymore or hand her ingredients. He's her "special tester" to make sure the foods good. If you look closely enough you can see his hand popping up.

Wukong likes to compare hand sizes alot because of how diffrent all his friends are. Most of the time his friends hands swallow him because obviously he's alot smaller, but Macaque's and Mk's hands aren't much bigger than his.

Mei would dox you if she felt like you deserve it.

Wukong found the camera Mei placed on him and got rid of it immediately. Redson copied this.

Both Wukong and Redson have curly hair but they straighten it.

Pigsy is the smallest in his family. His mom, dad, grandma, Tang, and Mk are all bigger than him.

Tang has a older sister. He also has a few cousins. His family is LOADED.

Tangs mom was disapproving of Pigsy. Tangs dad LOVES him and Mk. Opposite on Pigsys side. His dad HATES tang but his mom loves him.

Sandy is a active reader and has many favorite books. He likes to talk to Wukong or Tang about them.

Mk has to have braces until he was about 20.

Mei international dyed her hair to make her parents mad but she atcually ended up liking it so she kept it.

Pigsy is Mks favorite parent. He is not shy about this fact and will say it when asked.

Redson is very blunt. He's not always trying to hurt your feelings, sometimes it's just hit tone making him sound meaner than what he's trying to convey.

Sandy is still looking for Hunstman.

Wukong does nit care what gender is. He doenst care if you think he's a boy, girl, or anything else. As far as he's concerned he's just a monkey and that's all that matters.

Wukong is extremely warm so the monkeys (and Macaque when Wukong kets him in his bed) snuggles up to him and grabs him so they can feel the warmth.

Mayor bits ice cream. He also bites jawbreakers.

Azure eats like he just got out of prison. Wukong is a slower eater and makes fun of him for his quick pace.

Yellow Tusk needs glasses but he won't wear them.

Peng is the kinda gut where THEY can make a joke insulting their friends but will get PISSED if you try and do it too.

Nezha has a HORRENDOUS sleep squedule that he picked up from both his job and Wukong.

Pif snaps more than she'd like. Things make her frustrated quickly and she snaps because of it. She's yelled at Redson more than she'd like to because of it. Redaon never knows what to expect feom her so he's very careful not to make her angry. DBK isn't much better.

Macaque makes jokes about Wukongs weight and him getting bigger but he doenst like it when he can hear Wukong critize his body. He likes how soft Wukong is.

Wukong has always been chubby exept when he was on the journey and starving. That kinda skinny wasn't okay.

Wukong likes to mess up Tangs hair cause he finds it funny that Tang looks exactly like his master just with hair. Tang let's him do it cause he know it makes him feel better.

Nezha crashes at Wukong's place when he's tired of work. Wukong offers him a room but he normally falls asleep to quickly on the couch.

I'm so sleepy yall but at least I got motzeralla sticks today.

These are always so fun to make.

[bits-and-babs]

I just read Playboy and... Oh boy. Damn. Bashful Joel is *the best.* Also, I'm so curious if they woke up Ellie lmao that would be horribly, deliciously awkward

𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐡

pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

word count: 819

warnings: awkward. Very subtle references to smut. Not proof read.

note: I loved this ask so much that I had to write it just for funsies. I think I try really hard (too hard) sometimes to be a serious writer when sometimes I’m in need of a little bit of fun! See the fic that inspired this ask here. PLEASE NOTE: at the end of this there are two dashes ( - - ) there is a glitch removing the last paragraph of my fic so this is the only way I can curb it!

Fuchsia blurs across Ellie’s cheekbones, encroaching on the skin of her throat and exposing her obvious discomfort in the silvery reflection of the wing mirror. You chew on the inside of your cheek raw as you watch her for hours, her eyes staring into the obscure image of the passing evergreen outside the window as though she was experiencing shell shock.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet, Kid,” Joel speaks up through the silence, his eyes drifting up to the wing mirror glass and assessing the image of Ellie’s reflected mortification. Outwardly cringing, she glances forward at Joel and shrugs awkwardly.

“Yeah, well, you were ‘uncharacteristically’ loud last night,” she mumbles under her breath, and you swear you feel your insides curdle. Joel’s eyebrow arches slightly in question, but you know exactly what she’s touching on, swallowing back your urge to explain and apologise.

“Gotta speak up, Kiddo. Can’t hear you on that side,” Joel reminds Ellie of his deaf ear, and you find yourself closing your eyes in mortification at his insistence to find out what was bugging the poor, tortured girl.

Ellie clears her throat with a shake of her head, sprawling out across the back seat in a dramatic flop.

“It’s not important.”

Joel, frustrated now, aims his scrutiny at you. His bronze eyes study your discomfort; his eyebrows pinched together when you form your lips around the words ‘she knows.’

The result is almost instantaneous—Joel’s grip on the leather steering wheel creaks, his knuckles white. You can practically see his stomach drop, and he lets out an awkward chuckle that lacks humour. Resting your elbow against the curve of the door, you hide your eyes behind your fingers.

“… Ellie,” Joel speaks tentatively, and you swear you can feel the almost nauseous discomfort radiating off the teenage girl in waves, “… Uh… When-“

“‘A man and a woman love each other very much’? Are you fuckin’ serious, Joel? Are you about to give me the birds and bees talk?!” Ellie scoffs, shaking her head, “You really are shoddy at this.”

“I didn’t-… I ain’t had to talk about this before,” Joel grumbles, teeth gritting as he rubs at the back of his neck to wipe the nervous sweat away.

“You don’t have to. You were both so noisy I got a pretty clear picture!” She pointed out viciously, and you swear you wished a Bloater would just run at the truck and flip it over, knocking you out and putting you out of your misery. You’re cringing so hard you swear you’ve tied your intestines in a knot.

“Shit-… ‘M sorry, Ellie. You shouldn’ta heard that…” Joel mumbles, and it’s like he’s getting his knuckles rapped with a ruler by his maths teacher. You’d never heard the gruff, unapologetic man sound so meek.

There’s a long stretch of silence, and it almost tempts you to peek through your digits and see what is happening. So quiet and tense is the atmosphere that the running engine of the ageing vehicle sounds like a mountain avalanche, rumbling within the contents of the van’s metal shell. You suppose a huge rock hitting you head on would be more optimal than this utterly humiliating conversation.

Joel damn near stalls the truck when Ellie speaks up, catching you both off guard with what she chooses to say next.

“… So… *Is* he smaller than the average American dick length?”

“Ellie!” You and Joel yell out in shock, and Ellie almost falls off the seat in her intense laughter, clutching at her stomach at the evident shame that decorates Joel’s expression.

“I’m just fuckin’ with ya! I don’t wanna know that shit!” She giggles, wiping tears from her waterline with her knuckles.

“Oh, fuck you,” you scoff, shaking your head and leaning it back against the headrest.

“No thanks, that’s what Joel is for.”

“Ellie, I swear I am gonna kick you out of this truck and make you walk to Wyoming,” you insist, pointing towards the door handle beside you with zeal.

“Got it, got it,” she chuckles, sitting up again, “But don’t think I’m lettin’ you off that easy. I hear anything nasty? I’m screaming so a runner comes and kills us all. It’s less painful than listening to what I heard last ni-…”

When you dare to look, poor Joel is staring vacantly ahead of him as he drives, looking as though he’s really wondering just why the *fuck* he decided to take this job from Marlene and whether or not Ellie would be able to find her own way to Wyoming if he dropped her off on the roadside and abandoned her. Surely scrappy little Ellie could deliver herself with a map and a single cereal bar for protection?

-

[igotanidea]

Told ya! : Jason Todd x fem!reader

request: why was it so hard to believe she had a boyfriend? Why was her friend constantly teasing her about it? At least until he finally decided to show himself and said friend were forced to listen to some action......

Warnings: sugestive at the end, but nothing explicit, swearing, sexual tension and teasing.

Italics are flashbacks in the first part and sounds in the second.

****

„Let’s go out and party tonight” Leah was splayed on the couch on her back, facing the ceiling and  absentmindedly fiddling with her hair. Y/N could almost see the wheels in her friend’s brain turning as she was masterminding a plan. “Maybe you can finally meet someone to actually become your boyfriend.”

“Leah….” Y/N sighed deeply rubbing her forehead, leaning on the kitchen counter nearby “I told you already, many, many times, that…..”

“That you have a boyfriend” the other girl lift herself up, facing Y/N with a raised eyebrow, teasing smile and a twinkle in her eyes “Sure, I heard you loud and clear. A boy in another state? A Canadian? That one? The one I never get to see or meet?”

“Leah…..”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. You know you don’t have to lie to me, we are friends. No shame in being single. You just gotta you know…..” Leah shimmied her chest a bit “bite the bullet, baby. Get some action.” now she also buckled her hips a bit in a very suggestive gesture.

“STOP IT!” Y/N could feel her face becoming bright red and burning. God, Leah was her best friend, but she could also be a bit too …. emancipated, leaving Y/N flustered and ashamed.

“god, you’re so cute and innocent when it comes to talking about sex” Leah smiled brightly “like a little girl. I know, I know, it can be scary when you’re a virgin, but it is in fact quite pleasurable and ….”

“I’m done with you! I’m out! I …. I gotta get to work, so …. Have a good day or whatever, Leah.” Y/N threw her hands in the air in frustration over her friend’s behavior, grabbed a jacket and a backpack and left the apartment, banging the door.

“Don’t be mad at me!” Leah yelled after her “I only mean the best for you! I love you, Y/n!”

“Screw that.” Y/N thought, gritting her teeth. At this point she should already be used to Leah’s teasing. The girls knew each other since their high school years and she was always like this. Like two sides of the same coin – Leah always got the fire that pushed her forward, making her a shining star, always on the spotlight, while Y/N preferred staying in the background, shy and easily intimidated, not really wanting any attention.

But.

The matter of the fact was that she did have a boyfriend.

In the same state. In the same city, to be honest.

He was just ….. busy.

Busy with being a vigilante, fighting crimes at night and yeah, you guessed it , former Batman’s sidekick. With the breath of danger constantly on his neck, there were never a good time to bring him into contact with her friends. Not that any of them wanted that, but it gave Leah plenty of arguments to call Y/N a liar, a confabulator and storyteller. Damn it! That wouldn’t be so frustrating if it wasn’t for the fact that to up the teasing, Leah would constantly put Y/N into other man’s arms and the shy girl being himself had absolutely no idea how to oppose. Sometimes it resulted in a highly awkward situation.

***

“It was supposed to be a casual coffee!” Y/N hissed at her friend, dragging her away from the table in the café. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Um, not what, but rather who” Leah corrected “Tom.”

“Why did you bring him here?!”

“To show you how fun boy’s company can be. We got together a couple weeks ago and he is just so good at making me feel good.”

“Leah!!!”

“Chill, sunshine. I’m just giving you a taste of what you can have. There’s no need to thank me. Now, can we please go back to the table? I don’t think I can last long without his hands on me….”

“I hate you…..” Y/N muttered, but putting on the brave face, smiled and approached the guy.

“Tommie…..” Leah sat as close to him as possible, almost on his lap “Please, forgive my friend. She has no real experience with boys and hence the shyness and strange behavior.”

“It’s all right, love. Not everyone is as …. bold as you. it’s actually quite cute so see a girl standing on the other side of the barricade. I heard a lot about you, Y/N.”

“You did?” Y/N’s eyes went wide at the simple thought of what words Leah could use to describe her.

“nothing wrong, I swear.” Tom raised his hands in defensive gesture and smiled sympathetically

“Just about giving you a little show of hugging and kissing and …..”

Oh my god…… Why?

***

“Jace?” the ringing of the phone woke her up in the very early morning(though some people would call it very late night). She swore she would stay up, knowing he was dealing with a  particularly hard patrol, but cramming for exams and burying herself in the textbooks did nothing to help her keep that promise.

“hi, baby…..” he mumbled with that hoarse voice and her sleepiness was gone in a second.

“Are you all right? Are you hurt?” she was already one leg out the door, forgetting being dressed only in pajama shorts and old T-shirt.

“I’m fine, princess. Just needed to hear your voice.”

“I miss you, Jason. Where are you?”

“I’m actually outside your  apartment.”

“What?” she let out a scream, but immediately put a hand over her mouth, not to wake Leah “Where?”

“Right here” a gentle tapping on the glass  got her attention and once she spun around she noticed Jason in his civilian clothes.

“Jay!” she rushed to open the window, longing to have him in his arms, wanting nothing more than to hold him, kiss him, touch him.

“What are you doing?” the door opened suddenly and showed Leah with disheveled hair, blurry eyes and print of the pillow on her cheek. “I thought I heard you talking to someone?” she yawned widely

“Yes.” Y/N smiled, her gaze flickering to her friend and then back to window, noting Jace already gone. “My boyfriend.” There were zero chances Leah would believe it in her current state, so Y/N did not risk any exposure to Jason’s presence and alter ego.

“Mhmmmmm.” Leah mumbled “that’s quite the imagination you have there, Y/N. You truly are desperate if you’re using Camila Cabello song as an excuse….”

“What?”

“He comes alive at midnight…..”

“I don’t….”

“damn it girl, you need to get laid.” Leah laughed a bit “I wouldn’t mind a bit of sounds coming out of your room, you know. Anyways, I’m going back to bed. And you should do too.” She closed the door and went to her room, leaving Y/N alone.

“Why didn’t you tell her that you do have a boyfriend?’

“JESUS CHRIST! JASON!”

“Sorry.”

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?! I told her, she just doesn’t believe it. Not that I blame her. You are practically a ghost to everyone I know. “

‘I know it’s not ideal, but …..”

“I don’t care, Jace. That’s the whole point. I can handle the teasing as long as it keeps you safe. As long as you are only for me.”

“I am. But it’s not fair and you should not go through this shit only for my benefit.”

“Are you gonna kiss me or not?” she interrupted him, pouting and crossing her arms.

“Thought you’d never ask.”  He grinned and dragged her out to the emergency exit, enveloping her in his warmth, shielding from the cold night air.

****

She meant what she said that night. She did not mind the teasing. And that was why Y/N finally agreed to go out and party with Leah. Knowing exactly what to expect.  

But.

She never planned getting the attention of one of the snippiest guy on the campus and spending the night running away from his sticky hands.

“Don’t hide from me, pretty one!” he yelled chasing after her, while Y/N was swinging between the partying people, desperately searching for any kind of shelter. That was until she bumped into someone’s chest and a pair of arms wrapped around her waist, making her squeal and struggle out of instinct.

“Relax, princess, it’s me.” Familiar voice made her look up, meeting with those angel green eyes.

“Jason….” she whispered, clinging to him, immediately feeling safe in his arms.

“Who is this fucker?” Y/N’s chaser came into view and eyed Jason with a stern expression “Are you bothering my girl?”

“Your girl?” Jason laughed viciously “You should really be careful with words. And who the fuck are you calling fucker?”

“Um…. I don’t know? You?”

“You want a fight?” Jason took a step forward leaving Y/N behind. None of the boys realized that the crowd already circled around watching the scene. Some people has already started recording. “Want me to remind you how many bones you have in your body? Cause I swear if you laid a finger on my girl, fuck, if you did as much as throw a glance her direction I will break each and every one of them.”

“Jason……” Y/N tugged at his jacket desperately “Let’s just go home. Please. There’s no need to make a scene.  I’m tired, please, Jace….”

“I got my eyes on you, you piece of shit.” Jason hissed, relenting to his girlfriend pleas “And if I ever hear you came near her.” He dragged a finger on his throat before turning around, grabbing Y/N’s hand and leading her out the party, straight to her apartment. They both forgot about Leah, but that girl knew well enough how to take care of herself. She came into the flat half an hour later, demanding explanation.

“Y/N!!!”

“Leah! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I left you there!”

“Fuck that” Leah shook her head “who the hell is this guy?” she peeked behind Y/N’s shoulder and eyed Jason “hi, handsome. I’m Leah, Y/N;s roommate.”

“I know.” he mumbled, without any smile or friendly expression.

“You did?” Leah’s voice turned seductive “how?”

“My girlfriend mentioned the teasing you gave her.”

“Wait, girlfriend? You mean….. Y/N…. what?”

“Yeah. Apparently I’m very real. And honestly, quite pissed that everyone decided to torment my little princess.”

“Y/N…. I …. I ……” Leah mumbled, her face screaming shock and dumbfoundedness “I’m sorry… I ……”

“It’s all right, Leah” Y/N put a hand on her shoulder “I told you. Guess next time I say something you will believe me.”

“Yeah…. I …. I guess.”

“good.” Y/N smiled brightly “now if you excuse me, I would rather take care of my boyfriend once I have him. Or maybe…..” the girl shot Jason’s a glance and his eyes sparkled, blown with lust “let him care of me…..”

Neither Jason nor Y/N waited for Leah’s response, disappearing inside her room and closing the door tightly.

What was it that she once said?

I wouldn’t mind a bit of sounds coming out of your room?

***

“Jason…..” she moaned, the door doing nothing to muffle the sounds and Leah prayed to whatever god or other entity were up there to make them stop. “Yes, please, more…..”

Her whines and ragged breath was subdued for a moment. Maybe they were done for the night?”

“Yes! Yes! Right there! Give it to me!”

“Princess.’ Great, now his deep silky voice joined hers and embarrassingly, Leah started getting wet. God, this Jason guy was so hot and sexy and now she was forced to suffer, imagining things that she would never have. “you feel so good. Mhmmm” he groaned and she whined much louder “so tight.”

“Please, Jason….. Baby…. Please, I’m so close. So close. Don’t stop.” The bed cracked and Leah clearly heard the slap of skin on skin and the sound of banging the headboard. “Ah!!”

“Come for me, baby. Cum on my cock, I want to feel you.” judging by the sounds he thrusted into her more and more and more and ….

“JASON!!!” holy fuck, her scream must have been heard on the whole campus. Her orgasm definitely was intense, and that assumption was quickly proven by ragged breath and panting.

Hopefully, that was it. After all, Leah had her fair share of guys and none of them lasted more than one round…..

“got another one for me, princess?” he asked and Leah heard him loud and clear through the thin wall, not that he was keeping his voice quiet. It was like he wanted to be heard. Apparently Y/N nodded because they started going again. Moans, whimpers, whispers were going to keep Leah up all night.

***

 “Good morning”a few hours later, Y/N full of energy came into the kitchen when Leah was currently eating breakfast. Hickeys and marks all over her body and Jason’s shirt draped all over her speaking for itself. “Did you sleep well?” she teased

“I….um…..”

“oh, you are just so cute and innocent when it comes to sex.” Y/N ginned watching her friend turning red, for once in her life the situation turning around on Y/N’s benefit.

“He….. he’s good isn’t he?”

“Oh, my dear friend…… Let me tell you all about it…..”

Now, finally, it was Y/N’s turn to tease. And Jason’s getting up and coming into view, shirtless showing his perfectly sculptured body was enough to make Leah shut up for quite some time.

@ultravioletqueen

[kitmoas]

purgatórium versenye

WandaNat x Reader

Warnings: **18+ ONLY** **MINORS DNI*** ***SMUT*** dark and demonic themes, cult vibes, gun and syringe, blood, gaslighting and stolkhome vibes, gives almost...Saw vibes in a way?, clicker training

As per usual if i forgot anything let me know

Author's Note: oh look I actually hit a deadline with this one! Okay second part of the double feature is here!! Again I am still getting back in the grove of writing so I'm sorry if this sucks, also I did not edit this at all sooooo yea

Kitmoas | Necrosis Kitmoas | Navigation

Exhaustion filled your body but thankfully you knew that the wait was almost over. For the past three and a half years your world was four walls, dozens of gadgets, millions of sounds, and two women. It wasn’t torture by any means, the work was nice and the company of two of the most beautiful people to ever grace the Earth was even more nice, but you were more than ready to pack up the project and move on with the next item for your resume. You knew the frustration you had with this job was at no fault of your mentors, a failed experiment is never in the cards for anyone but you couldn’t help but feel some anger towards them and their actions throughout the years. 

There is no doubt that they are gorgeous, charming, and extremely brilliant but you had to ponder their focus on some occasions. Yes, the job was granted funding for four years which allowed a bit of wiggle room when it came to how strict the workplace was on a day to day basis. It meant that the stress was off of the three of you to produce results quickly, but you never thought the efficiency would suffer. In your mind, if anything, it should have been even better since every single detail could be worked. It meant that you could have trial run after trial run, fixing any small little error that you could find but instead the deadline is rapidly approaching with not a single trail run completed. 

“Hey, how do you feel about dinner tonight? Maybe go over the last stage of progress so that we can really get into “trials”?” Blinking, you turn slowly to the raspy voice. She’s a few inches taller than you and a soft smile graces her face as she looks down at you. Her hand is already reaching out towards you, fingers twitching as the tips get closer and closer to strands of your hair. 

It’s easier to talk to her alone, she feels soft and safe. Her presence is calming and she rarely teases you in uncalled for moments, but when fun comes she’s the life of the party. Sarcastic and witty, she truly had it all and you know that she’s way out of your league but you just had to remember that she is your coworker; nothing more. 

You don’t even realize you’ve nodded, agreeing to the plans before your brain can catch up but she’s smiling widely. “Great! I’ll cook, just go ahead and bring yourself and that pretty little smile.” Her hand cups your cheek, thumb graze along your lip before she quickly pulls away. Fleeting touches keep your brain in a spiral, a light haze causes it to be hard to think but your entire body buzzes at the compliment. 

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

It was the moment your Uber pulled up to the large house, gates opening slowly that you realized you had never asked about your crush’s background. There was no way that the research that you were doing paid for this property. You could barely pay your rent and still have enough money to eat anything besides instant ramen. No one ever got into this world for the money, it was all for the experience. 

The attire you adorned was casual, no dress code given and no formal wear in your closet, you felt completely out of place as you climbed the front steps. The urge to flag down your Uber and run was strong, but you knew that if you finished this dinner you would be done and the end of the job would be near. 

The door swung open quickly, a young man answering it almost the moment the first chime of the doorbell sounded. Your finger was still against the cool metal and the you knew that your face gave away just how surprised you were but you tried to shake it away when you were able to take in what he was wearing. Casual clothes, almost gym attire with what looked like nicer joggers and a colorful tight long sleeve shirt. “You my sister’s guest?” 

His tone was crude, a brash contrast to how the sweet girl you knew spoke and you dumbly nod. It wasn’t that you weren’t used to people speaking to you rudely, you lived in the slums of New York City, but you weren’t prepared for someone who should know your status in the company to treat you as harshly as this. 

“I would have thought the girls could have found a better option, but I suppose this will work.” He’s mumbling mostly, eyes trailing your body up and down before he starts to walk away. The door left open as you watch him retreat into the depths of the house. 

It took you a moment, body frozen as you tried to figure out what to do. The toe of your shoe had barely touched the dark marble floor when a soft hand wraps around the edge of the door, smirking face popping out in front of you. Despite the racing of your heart, and the temporary fear in your throat, you begin to relax as the sight of your coworker. “Well hello édes szerelem, you’re late.” 

The accent settles you even more and you can’t help but chuckle, finally taking your spot inside the doorway fully. “It wasn’t my fault.” You snicker slightly under your breath, a mischievous smirk pulling at your lips as you watch the woman’s eyes roll. While you may not appreciate being so behind, you can dabble in the fun that she brings to the lab. 

“You have literally been standing here like a frozen little gremlin for at least five minutes, I do believe it is your fault.” She grips your forearm, dragging you father into the foyer. She barely waits for you to take your shoes off, a look of confusion on her face as she watches you but thankfully a taunt doesn’t fall from her lips. 

Your jaw drops slightly as she guides you farther into the house, twisting hallways and grand archways blur as she practically jogs. “Well I wasn’t expecting to be greeted by—“

“Pietro.” The sentence gets cut off by the woman you were most excited for as the two of you turn into a wide doorway. You were unsure exactly how she heard you that entire time, but you were glad she did because you felt like she could easily answer any questions that you may have. “I must apologize about him, he’s not too fond of guests; even Natasha here.” 

The redhead chuckles, her grip on you finally relaxing as she separates from you and heads to the bar in the corner. “What can I say, not everyone likes me.” Finally feeling the ability to relax, you allow your eyes to roam and your body to settle on a comfy looking chair. You weren’t expecting such a cozy room, it almost looks like something a middle class family would have. Adorned with cheesy family pictures, a few worn in couches, a huge television and the recliner that you happen to be sitting in you could almost close your eyes and believe that you were at your uncle’s house to watch the lastest football game. 

“Sure and it has nothing to do with the fact that you are a bika egy kínai szekrényben. “Your neck almost snaps as the foreign language catches your ears. Wanda had never once spoken the what you believed to be the native tongue of the mysterious woman drinking a martini in the corner, but here she was. It sounded fluent, a casual switch between English almost like she was with her grandmother who had immigrated to the United States.” 

Scoffing, you can see the ginger purse her lips before she downs the rest of her drink. “Oh yes, let’s just hate Natasha, the new girl. It’s not like I haven’t been trying to fit in because you know I have! I’ve been working hard towards my goals and everything that the family wants time to finish to become one of you.” Her voice comes out in a hiss, anger fueling her speech and you realize that the two had to have forgotten that you were here. 

Clearing your throat, you try to catch one of their attention. You didn’t want to intrude too much, but you also didn’t know where to go to excuse yourself. Jumping slightly you weren’t expecting Wanda to practically jump at you, her body rushing towards you but stopping just a few steps away. She smiles, but it’s a little bit to fake for her normal comforting grin. The look on your face must have indicated her mistake because Natasha immediately crosses the room, slapping the younger girl on the back softly. 

“Now Wanda, don’t scare our guest.” The ginger smirks at you, reaching up to cup your face. Her eyes roll when you flinch, her fingers smooshing against your jaw to keep you still. “We aren’t going to hurt you darling.” She straightens her back, her head tilting to stare you down. “You don’t think we would hurt you do you?” 

The other woman is hunched over, almost struggling to stand up, when you finally take notice of her, Your eyes straining to find hers as you search for some kind of signal what is happening. She adverts your gaze though and instead falls to her knees, settling comfortably and reaching out to lay a hand along your calf. The soft touch slows your heart rate and allows you to focus enough on the questions you were being asked. Slowly you shake your head, unsure of where the intensity has come from. 

Biting her tongue as it slips between her teeth, her smile morphing her mouth some. “Good, now, it’s a custom to play a game. Won’t you play with us?” Her voice is sultry, grip on your cheek forces you to nod your head. She cuts you off before you can verbally answer, raising her eyebrows as she waits for you to actually fight her but she is met with nothing but silence. “Exactly, good. Wanda, would you tell them we are ready to begin?” 

Time practically stands still as you watch your object of affection scurry out the door, and you have to gulp down your nervousness once more while you are alone with the older woman. You have many questions but the uncertain stretches across your skin. Anticipation was rising in your body, as well the blush that tinted your skin. 

It was only a few minutes when Wanda returned, the small device that the three of you had been working on in hand, along with two women carrying covered platters. She makes eye contact with Natasha before beelining it directly towards you, her hand cupping your cheek immediately. “Trust me, everything will fall into the place that it’s meant to be.” Her voice is soft, eyes searching yours as she lets her thumb boop your nose gently. She smiles when she sees you mindlessly nod. 

Your heart races the closer she gets and it practically stops when you realize what is about to happen, though your brain doesn’t get much time to catch up when her lips finally touch yours. The kiss is slow, tender, and it makes your confidence in her statement strong as you realize that she’s going to be the foundation that she falls on during this game. A small electronic click sounds in the room, echoing in the background, and though it sounds familiar you don’t pay it any attention. 

A hand in your hair interrupts the moment you two are sharing, and while your body is tugged away from the older woman your mind stays stuck on it as Natasha’s grip tightens. She’s speaking but you can’t help the hazed look in your eyes as your focus stays on Wanda, unknowingly agreeing to whatever the ginger is saying. “Glad, I’m glad you agree.” Her voice, final and firm, shakes you and you try to turn to look at her but a cool piece of metal lands on your temple. “Nuh uh pretty girl, you agreed to the terms of my game. Now you play.” 

A chill freezes your blood, your muscles locking up as your predicament settles in. Nodding, a small frantic motion, your eyes searching for Wanda’s to try and signal for help but she stands in the center of the floor. She’s calm but her eyes are sharp, watching you almost like a predator watches prey. You weren’t sure why she had your project, but you no longer cared about that. You just wanted to leave this house alive. “Don’t you want to play with us, sweetheart?” It’s her voice that makes you melt, even with the sharp digging of the muzzle into your skull. At your smile, and slight relaxation, another small electronic click.  

Missing the evil smirk that spreads across the ginger’s face, unnaturally sharp teeth showing, you allow your body to press against hers. Believing that Wanda would get you out safely, you decide that you’re just going to allow this game to play out as it was meant to. “Eszter, step forward. Our players are ready for round one.” One of the girls approaches you, standing slightly off center from in between you and Wanda. “I, Natalia Romanoff, the GameMaster officially call a beginning to this trial. Lift the dome, Eszter.” 

The gun is still lazily pressed against your head to keep you inline, and you flinch as a ringing sound radiates into the room when the metal lid scraps. There sits two levers, one red and one blue. “It’s simple, you each pick a lever and you better be fast after you choose. We wouldn’t want the game to end so early now would we?” She steps back, snickering as your body sways unstably. 

A soft hand wraps around your wrist, Wanda reaching out to keep you upright and tugging you forward. She pulls you into another kiss, electronic click sounding. This one was rough, quick, as she forces her tongue into your mouth. It ends abruptly, she rips away from it and smirks at your breathless form. “Come darling, we have to play the game. You pick your lever first.” She sets your hand on the platter, releasing your wrist as she stands back. 

You weren’t really sure what it meant but you knew that you wanted the blue one from the beginning, something drew you to it and you instantly lifted your hand there. Wanda barely reacts, eyebrow twitching slightly as she settles her hand on the red one. A soft countdown comes from behind you, punctuated by a tapping of metal against something. At the count of one you both pull your chosen colors, but only Wanda moves. She’s swift, and if you would have blinked you would have missed the dagger that flies out of the wall and just barely misses her. Thumping into the wall behind where she once stood, you can’t help the gasp that tumbles from your lips. 

Natasha hums behind you, stepping up to press the gun to your lower torso and her hand roughly grabs your hip. Dragging you back so your ass is rubbing against her, and your back is digging into the gun. “You didn’t even move, as if you have a death wish idiot.” Her voice is mocking, teeth biting at your ear lobe. “If you want to live you’re going to have to play the game better than that.” Tutting she shoves you forward, before pulling you back to spin you around. She uses the barrel of the gun along your jaw to move your head around the way she wants, leaning in slightly to hover her lips over yours. 

Chuckling, she watches as your eyes slip shut, and you take a shaky breath in. Lips parted pathetically as you wait for hers to touch. “Do you want me to kiss you, slut?” Her eyes shine, a glimmer that is found when you begin to nod. It’s a quick motion before you immediately try to take it away. Shaking your head to deny it, you didn’t like Natasha–only Wanda. “Nuh uh little one, you can’t take back your first answer.” Allowing her gun to run down your body she smirks at the shivers she causes, before she shoves the metal between your thighs. Tapping it randomly against your covered clit, it shocks you how quickly she finds it but your body reacts subconsciously. 

Hips jumping at the contact, you try to lean into her. Electric click sounding loudly in your ears, echoing in the quiet of the room. You’re confused as you start to crave her touch, being denied it this entire time. You aren’t even sure how long she stands there, playing with your body, but you know that she never lays a finger on you but by the time she pulls away you are soaked. It causes you to fill with shame because you weren’t sure what kind of game you were playing, and you just wanted to live but you no longer wanted to escape. You should but you didn’t. 

“Time for the next round, Dorottya. Bring forth the rest of the equipment, she’s ready.” Wanda jumps forward at Natasha’s words, wiggling up next to you as the last girl steps towards you; pulling the dome off as she comes closer. “This is even easier, no movement needed for the dumb little thing. Pick a needle, and one of our girls here will administer it to you.” She smiles at the two of you, it’s almost too soft and it makes you whine. It’s sinister the way she cackles at the sound, drawing you into her to just shove you back. 

A click. Wanda giggles and kisses your shoulder. Another click. Her mouth stays there though, a low whisper coming out to calm down. “We find out the winner of this round at the end of the game, my love.” You melt and another click, the hint she gives you goes over your head at the possessive pet name. 

Blindly you reach out, rolling the two syringes along the metal. Neither seem flawed nor do they seem to have any true differences, so you just grab one at random. You weren’t sure which girl grabs the shots because the brunette is dragging you into another kiss, her hand mapping out your body. Hands trailing up your shirt, forcing herself under your bra to thumb at your nipples. A click. You whimper softly, for some reason you’re extremely sensitive and you can feel yourself clench slightly around nothing at her touch. It had to be because of how long you pined over her, the gorgeous girl finally giving you the attention that you dreamt about for years. A click. 

Natasha lets her body mold against your back, gun tapping methodically against the outside of your thigh as she grinds in your ass. “Look at you, finally willingly playing the game.” You can feel a bulge against you, and you can’t help yourself as you allow your hips to roll back into it. A click. Something was happening to your body and you just needed more, you wanted to be filled and you wanted Natasha to be the one to do so. 

You move your body as much as you can, trying to find a way for your clit to rub against something. A click. You wanted some kind of relief from the rapidly approaching heat. It wasn’t something that you were expecting, but you were okay with this wild game if it meant that you would be taken care of by these ladies. Maybe it was all fake and they just wanted to be weird, you never know what kind of freaky shit rich people got into. 

Clearing her throat, the ginger shoves you off of her. It causes you to tumble into Wanda, helplessly you flop onto her. You were surprised she could hold your weight but you were content to rub your face against your breasts, though you weren’t allowed to stay long. When the older woman behind you dragged you back down. She effortlessly moved you as if your body was made of a fluff, shoving you around until you were laid out on the ground. A click. 

A growl comes out of her mouth as she lets her body fall on your aggressively, hips humping into you where she had forced your legs apart. It was rough and quick, a moment of chaos in the tight fisted control that the ginger usually had. A click. It was almost like she was losing herself in the pleasure, her hands all over you as she tugged your clothes down and ripped them. “Play the next round.” Her voice was deeper, rough and rumbly, as she moved on top of you. 

You were confused but just as you opened your mouth to ask how, Natasha had pulled away only to be replaced with Wanda. Her mouth was on the exposed skin that was left behind from the ginger ravishing you, and her fingers were already swiping through the wetness that she found in between your thighs. A click. She slips two fingers into you, the tips at first just to test out how tight you were but she thrusts both in fully when a metal collar is slapped around your neck. It all happens at once and your vision blurs as you're filled by the brunette, your pussy stretching around her fingers. A click. 

She uses her hips to shove her fingers deeper into you, while you were unsure of when your arousal got so high, you knew that you wouldn’t last long. A click. It had been so long since you were even touched slightly, and you had been dreaming of Wanda touching you for years. It was everything you dreamed of and you could feel the cool of her rings slightly. They were rubbing against your leaking hole, and your hips jut upwards when her metal wrapped thumb rubs tight little circles on your swollen clit. A click. 

“I pick a card, you win if you get a face card. If you both get one, we continue to play until the first number card is chosen. Who is going to go first?” You can barely see where Natasha is sitting above you. Her voice is nonchalant as she shuffles the cards in her hand. 

At the same time Wanda shoves a third finger into you, chuckling against your stomach where she’s leaving hickeys as her name falls from your lips. A click. You weren’t sure what was happening but you hear Natasha reading out the card she choses. It’s slow, and you let your head flop to the side. Forcing your eyes open you watch as the ginger slowly strokes her strap, it’s large and you crave it. A click. 

The brunette on top of you moans, her hips have found home on your thigh and you can feel her wetness as she grinds down onto you. A click. It’s the feeling that almost pushes you over the edge unexpectedly. You didn’t think you were close, but apparently Wanda knew otherwise. “Natty she’s so fucking tight, her little cunt will be perfect even after she loses.” Her voice is shaky as she chases her own high, fingers inside you almost painful as her control fumbles. A click. 

It’s in that moment that Natasha gasps, a taunting sound as she turns the next card over. It shows a golden five surrounded by butterflies, a soft sweet image for the torture you unknowingly subjected yourself to. “Well well look at this, it looks like the little whore lost.” A filthy moan falls from your lips when you hear the ginger’s words, and humiliation fuels your orgasm even more when you realize that losing has caused you to dangle even more dangerously over the edge. A click. 

The collar around your neck suddenly drops, cold metal instantly tightening around you. Your eyes are wide open, though you are struggling to keep them that way, it allows you to watch as the oldest woman stumbles over to jerk off over you. It’s quick as she grunts, ropes of cum landing on your lower belly from the strap. It almost feels medical as she immediately pulls the harness off, the leaking tube leaves a trail of her cum along the floor as she sets it to the side. 

Though sterile and professional, you can’t help the way the coil in your tummy begins to shatter when Wanda shoves a glob of the cum into your cunt. A click. Another click. Another click. Intense pain starts to radiate through your body, and a searing sting burns your neck. Through your foggy hazed brain, you can hear Wanda excitedly telling the other women that it’s working. 

You can feel metal start to pierce your neck, the pressure breaking as does your skin and the pain throughout the rest of your body overtaking everything. A click. Another one. Your body starts to flail causing Wanda to struggle to keep herself inside you, but she continues to force three fingers into you as you react to the way she touches you. 

“I see the brainless slut lost the second round too?” Natasha laughs, a full body harsh sound, before she comes over to you. Dangling over your face, she smiles at the blood starting to leak around your head. A click.  “I guess we’ll see if the poison or the spikes kill you first, but don’t worry. Your body will be put to good use. It’s already conditioned to the sound, if we did this correctly it should react even when your heart stops.” It’s almost too soft as she speaks to you, but she gives you a soft kiss on your forehead. 

It doesn’t take long for you to stop feeling things, and the disappointment of a ruined orgasm runs through your closing veins. You can’t move or speak, and your vision is extremely blurry but you do see Wanda stand. The brunette leans down, a fake pout on her face as she looks down on you. “I’m sorry but I guess you won’t get to have a little fun before the end, Drágám. I tried but our formula must work too well.” A click. 

The two stand shakily, a sigh falling from their lips as they watch the puddle of blood get larger underneath you. “That’s going to be a pain to clean, they won’t be happy about that.” Pietro’s voice cuts through the room like a knife, suddenly showing up. “Did you have to be naked for this one? I don’t need to see my sister like this.” He pretends to puke, and for a moment things could be seen as normal. The three of them laughing and acting as if they were family, off to go find their elders to show them what they made. The sacrifice they have for them, almost like a present that Natasha has brought them to be accepted into the family. 

Your eyes are wide when the beating stops, when the world goes quiet and the pain ends. Even so, as a click echoes through the room your body convulses and your empty cunt pulses.  

Translations are loose: English to Hungarian

Drágám -- darling

bika egy kínai szekrényben-- bull in a china closet

[alcoholfreenayeon]

you wrote about jihyo using power while having sex with her partner.. could you write something more about it? would love it, fem!reader

Out of Control

Content warning: NSFW, Jihyo x fem!reader

A/N: I guess it’s not a good idea to make fun of Jihyo so much when she’s stressed and frustrated🤭Hope you like it🙈.

“What! No way! You didn’t actually do it did you”, you ask with a smile in disbelief.

“Stop! Y/n! I didn’t tell you that so you can tease me about it all the time”, Jihyo pouted, a bit upset.

Jihyo kind of started to regret telling you what happened during her last tour, you had been teasing her endlessly about it and she was still recovering from the experience, fatigue from touring and was also stressed about the upcoming release of her Solo Album. Her patience level wasn’t as high as it normally was.

“Then maybe you should make me”, you replied cheekily with a smile.

That’s when Jihyo made up her mind, you had been talking way too much and now Jihyo had to show you why she was the one in charge. She looked at you with irritation, got up from her chair and walked straight to your chair, a serious expression on her face.

She leaned in and whispered through gritted teeth, “you really need to show me some respect y/n. I didn’t realize you had become this much of a brat.” She practically drags you to the bedroom and pushes you on the bed. She then proceeds to remove your shirt first and taking a few seconds to admire your chest before continuing to strip you naked.

You felt excited though, the two of you hadn’t had sex in a while because there was simply not enough time. Either that or one of you felt too tired to initiate it. Now your gorgeous girlfriend was getting ready to put her face in between your legs.

Jihyo places her hands on your inner thighs and spreads your legs wide, her hands holding your thigh delicately yet firmly, her thumbs gently rubbing your leg so softly that it almost tickles, resulting in it sending shivers down your spine.

She begins by teasingly kissing all around your pussy causing you to inhale sharply. However, she doesn’t waste too much time and begins to take slow and long licks starting from your entrance and ending at your clit, the amount of pressure Jihyo uses, decreasing as the lick proceeds, her tongue barely making contact with you by the time she reaches your clit.

Sighing and whining, you try to relax knowing that your girlfriend knows what she’s doing, it’s a bit hard to relax though when your clit is getting teased. After a few minutes of teasing, Jihyo begins to eat you out properly. Your sighs turn into squeals and your squeals become moans as your pleasure starts to build up rather quickly. You suppose it’s no surprise considering how good Jihyo is at eating pussy.

Feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly, you reach out to grab Jihyo’s head but as soon as you touch her, she grabs your hands tightly and keeps them by your side only for you to then try and wrap your legs around her. Jihyo immediately stops eating you out and looks up with a stern look as she grabs your legs and spreads them again, “I’m only going to continue if you are able to show some self control Y/n or else I might end up stopping”.

You desperately make a promise that you won’t try and interfere again as long as she doesn’t stop. You would have given up your soul right then and there to cum. Little did you know what was in store for you. Jihyo begins to slow down once again as she felt your climax approach causing you to almost moan in pain as you felt your release come so close and then disappear. Your knees felt weak, your breaths were heavy and desperate and your hands were gripping the bedsheets tightly, your body felt like it was on edge. It felt like all you needed were just a few seconds of stimulation to cum yet Jihyo kept you on edge much to your frustration.

You felt like you couldn’t handle it much longer and began to beg her for release, saying you’ll do anything she says and promise not to annoy her and whatever else she wants as long as she lets you and makes you cum.

That’s when she makes you cum, you throw your head back, moaning Jihyo’s name, your legs shiver while your toes curl, your hands desperately gripping the sheets. Jihyo doesn’t stop though, resulting in you feeling intense aftershocks. She continues to devour your pussy, you can faintly hearing her lapping up your juices but your main focus right now was on recovering from the mind blowing orgasm. You don’t get much of a chance though. Since Jihyo doesn’t stop, you cum once again. If you weren’t so out of breath you would be smiling but Jihyo still doesn’t stop. Your walls are contracting constantly at this point and you are starting to squirm uncontrollably, moaning Jihyo’s name.

After cumming for the fifth or sixth time(you can’t be bothered to keep count when you are feeling that good) you begin to panic a bit because Jihyo still hasn’t shown any signs of even slowing down. The bedsheets around your legs are completely drenched in your juices. You feel like you can only move your body in slow motion. For a moment the sensation of getting your pussy ate fades….the next moment you almost sit up straight practically screaming as yet another orgasm overtakes you. You fall back down as it fades and you realize you had passed out for a few moments there. Panting, you try to look down at Jihyo but you vision is a bit blurry, everything seems too bright.

That’s when Jihyo stops, her mouth feeling a bit sore and you make the mistake of thinking it’s over only to feel her arm over your midriff, almost like she wants to hold it down. Your eyes widen in shock as you realize what’s about to happen, before you can plead your case, Jihyo’s tongue is replaced by her fingers. Plunging 2 fingers inside your pussy, knowing exactly which spots to touch, you are screaming and thrashing once again in just a few moments.

Your head is thrown back and your eyes are rolling up, you are involuntarily trying to raise your hips but Jihyo is holding it down with her arm. Jihyo continues to relentlessly finger you, watching your reactions with an amused expression. She then smirks and begins to suck on your clit while continuing to finger you. You are so stimulated that each time Jihyo rubs your g-spot, you cum immediately, your body jolting helplessly from such intense injection of pleasure, your walls are convulsing and spasming constantly which only makes Jihyo’s fingers feel better. You can’t even feel your legs anymore, they just shake constantly. Your arms are helplessly by your side. You are screaming on top of your lungs as you are hit with orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. It felt like there were no gaps between each one, just one after the other.

At this point almost your whole body feels numb with pleasure, you can’t even breath properly, wheezing and gasping for air as you try to come to your senses. Tears are forming in your eyes from sensory overload. You are pleading Jihyo to stop since you weren’t sure you could handle more pleasure. However, you had no way of realizing that in between all your struggles, you weren’t able to speak coherently. What Jihyo heard was complete gibberish but she did have a good idea of what you wanted to convey.

After what seemed like hours, Jihyo finally stops. Even the floor by her feet is soaked with your juices now. A satisfied expression on her face as she licks and sucks off your juices from her fingers. She gets up and reaches out for your face with one hand, passionately kissing you for a few moments before looking at you with a small smirk. “Now it’s time for the strap-on darling”, she says seriously. You look at her with fear and she then laughs, “I’m just kidding y/n”. You sigh in relief and relax, feeling completely exhausted, your eyes blinking slowly with fatigue.

“Y/n! Wake up! You can’t fall asleep yet,aahnn, I didn’t do all that for you for you to be selfish did I?”, Jihyo scolds you playfully, her hand holding your chin firmly so you could look into her eyes, you were confused as to what she meant.

You found out a few seconds later when she took off her gown and wiggled out of her panties and hovered over your face, making her intentions completely clear and sitting down, leaving you to do the job. You coupdnt believe it. You were still extremely tired, slightly breathless and feeling somewhat overwhelmed, you had been teased mercilessly by Jihyo for who knows how long and were expected to satisfy her seemingly endless desire now? You didn’t sign up for this! (Actually you did sign up for exactly this)

You softly whine when Jihyo lowers herself, you didn’t know how you were going to do it. You felt so tired and were scared of Jihyo punishing you if you failed. However, you got a surge of energy when you began to eat her out. Now that you were beginning to realize you kind of really liked it when Jihyo sat on your face, generally she made you sit on her face and now you could totally see the appeal.

Locking your arms onto her thigh you began to eat Jihyo out the way she likes it, pushing your tongue as deep as you can inside her. Obviously you can’t reach her g-spot with your tongue but you do know a few other weak spots you can. And that’s exactly what you resulting in Jihyo groaning and grunting in pleasure.

Feeling her orgasm approaching, Jihyo places both her hands on your head, you feel her body stiffen and somehow you could feel just how much she wants this so you double your efforts and begin to feast like there is no tomorrow.

Jihyo gasps in pleasure, hissing out your name as her grip on your head tightens signaling you to keep going and that’s what you do. Moments later Jihyo starts to moan and grind against your face, her orgasm not able to arrive quick enough for her as she tries to make your tongue go deeper. Her orgasm knocks the wind out of her and Jihyo leans forward involuntarily, all the while holding on to your head like it was life or death.

She sighs in pleasure, a big smile on her face and leans against the headboard as she rides out her climax, before getting off your face and lying down by your side, snuggling against you.

Grabbing a few tissues and wiping your face, you a take deep breath and look at Jihyo who’s almost asleep and think that how could someone who looks so precious have been breaking your mind, soul and body just a few minutes ago. Just thinking about it sent shivers down your body and you realized your burst of energy is rapidly fading and you are beyond fatigued.

You take another deep breath and turn, facing Jihyo and wrap your arm around her and close your eyes, falling asleep before you know it.

[aurora-ze-aquarius]

Unfinished Fic: "Sometimes, a bit of rain is all you need"

(Jackson Storm centered fic)

Written sometime in December 2022.

--

I was never able to finish this story, mainly because I couldn't come up with a proper ending.

This story takes place in an au where magic exists, also the cars are humans too. I never got to flesh it out properly. Maybe next time.

In this au, some people are born with magic, Jackson has the ability to manipulate the weather through his emotions. Basically Peppa from Encanto. I was inspired by greendreamer's fantasy cars/ttte au.

Inspired by a oneshot on ao3 where Jackson had weather magic. Unfortunately, I don't remember what it was called :(

Oh yeah, his real name is supposed to be Jackson Ian Rivera (🇺🇸🇵🇭)

⚠️TW/CW⚠️: Implied child neglect, emotional ab*se, panic attacks.

--

'Put your cloud away'

Is a phrase he's been told more times that he could count. 

The Rivera family is not unfamiliar to weather magic. It's been said that they're a family that has practiced this sort of arcana for generations. They are said to be able to summon winds and clouds, to make it rain at will. A Stormbringer is said to be able to control an average area of about 30 meters in diameter surrounding them. The more powerful mages can control the winds up to a mile away. The more refined the user is in their magic, the stronger and more controlled it is. 

They are a proud family, not to mention rich and wealthy. Proud to display their powerful and unique arcana. Majestic eyes of the storms. Something Jackson is not. 

Arcana. How he despises it. The magic has brought nothing but misery and pain in his life. 

Unlike most of his family members, Jackson was born with a curse. A curse in which his arcana is deeply intertwined with his emotions. Arcana in its very nature, is heavily intertwined with one's thoughts and emotions. Losing control of how one feels means losing control of one's connections with their magic. But Jackson's case is different. 

Whenever he's happy, skies are clear, as the breezes are light. Whenever he's not, rain begins to pour, as the thunder claps loudly. Not to mention, how unusually powerful his arcana is compared to most of his family members.

'Put your cloud away' they'd say. They would tell the young child that whenever he would misbehave in their eyes. Whenever tears swelled up in the corners of his retinas as small raindrops began to fall, dampening his once neatened clothes and hair. 

'Put your cloud away' they'd say- whenever the boy would feel frustrated, perhaps even angry, and would throw tantrums. Whenever lightning flashed, when he felt like they didn't understand him, why even felt that way in the first place. 

'Put your cloud away' they'd say- when dark skies and strong winds would cover almost every square inch of their large mansion.  When the boy tried… he tried so hard, yet failed and 'couldn't keep his emotions in check' according to them. 

It wasn't his fault though… was it..?

There's a reason why Jackson failed to connect to other people. They were either deemed not good enough to be his friends, or they would make fun of him and his interests. His family was of no help to those issues.

Honestly? He found it hilarious how shocked that so-called family was when he decided to finally cut them out of his life once IGNTR found him.

Despite having them out of his life, he could never rid himself of their, and subsequently, his views on his arcana. It's part of him, and he hates it. No matter what he did, it was always there. Continuously taunting him, whilst being just out of reach.

Despite them being gone, he knows better than to have a cloud constantly follow him whenever he's in a bad mood. 

--

Jackson hopped out of the car, panting as sweat beads dripped from his forehead. He turned towards the large monitor and growled, unsatisfied with his results.

" '214 mph'. You're doing good." Ray said, crossing his arms.

Jackson scoffed, wiping his sweat with an arm. "Not good enough…" Thunder crackled, as faint drips of water fell down from above him. 

Ray took note of this and sighed. He patted Jackson's shoulder and said, "You did good today, Storm. Take it easy." 

Jackson glared at him, but immediately tore his gaze to the small cloud that loomed above him. He gritted his teeth, wanting to curse it out but instead heaved a sigh, closing his eyes. 

"Put your cloud away… Put your cloud away…" He whispered to himself, taking deep breaths. He repeated this process until the rain stopped, the thunder ceased and the cloud disappeared. 

He opened his eyes. He turned away from the simulator and began to leave the room. "I can do better… I will do better…"

"Your powers are great, but far too unstable… Keep your cloud away… 

You could kill someone with that lightning bolt."

--

Jackson stared at the large monitor that stood tall above the stadium. His breath hitched, eyes widened in shock. 

"I… I…" 

It wasn't his name that took first place. But instead, McQueen and his little costume girl stole the win from him. Little shit appeared out of nowhere and stole the win for herself. 

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. He felt a vein almost pop. 

"FUCK." He screamed. He nearly got into a tangent when the sound of thunder crackling grabbed his attention. A mass of large clouds seemed to have manifested out of nowhere and had covered the stadium, blocking out the starlight from reaching the people. 

"What's this Darrel? It seems like rain clouds have appeared out of nowhere."

"It looks to me like someone's arcana is going haywire! Hopefully things will calm down before they get crazy. And it's already been a pretty crazy day!"

Jackson swallowed a gulp. 'Shit. Not now—!' 

Turning his car on he quickly made his way to where his trailer was. The paparazzi wanted his attention, but thankfully security kept them out of his way, lest someone gets injured due to getting in the way of his car. He quickly drove into the trailer and shut the door, not wanting to face the public. Not wanting to face Ray, McQueen, the other racers, and especially not that costume girl. 

He was panting, breaths were heavy and uneven as the reality set in. He lost. He lost to a random street racer. He lost his cool and almost killed someone, again. He lost his calm and now his storm—

He stiffens. That cloud. It shrouded the whole area. It was massive.

Jackson slowly backed into a corner, hugging himself. His back slid against the wall as he began chanting the words.

"Put your cloud away… put your cloud away… put your cloud away… put it away… just fucking put it away…"

He didn't know how long it took for the dark clouds to disappear; he fell asleep on the floor. But they did disappear just moments before he closed his eyes. Luckily before any raindrops fell and spoiled the day for the racing fans.

--

Jackson was pacing back and forth, still chanting about how his cloud needs to 'go away'. He just wrapped up another training session, and had stormed off to IGNTR's back gardens when he failed to break through 214 mps. 

He gripped his hair, yelling out in frustration. His clothes were soaked, not only from the sweat from training. The rain cloud above him thundered, flashing a bit of lightning once in a while. Jackson tried to swat it away, despite his futile efforts. 

"GO AWAY. DAMMIT." 

Ray watched him from a window heaving a sigh. He was worried. Jackson's storms seemed to be getting worse each time he lost a race, whether it was against Cruz or a different racer. He knew Jackson was a perfectionist at heart, and has tried multiple times to get him to understand that it's not just about winning, but each time, his pleas would fall on deaf ears. 

He knows the boy has it in him to change. But Jackson's mind is clouded in poor judgement, and it pains him to see him this way. That's not even mentioning Jackson's terrible coping mechanisms.

Ray sighed, crossing his arms. "There's no need to force your cloud away…" He mumbled. "There's nothing wrong with a bit of rain every once in a while…" He watched as Jackson seemed to have given up, and just seemed to be standing there, underneath the ever growing storm. 

"I just hope you can realize that one day…"

---

Jackson didn't know how he was dragged into this situation. He was at a party. A party to celebrate the success of the latest race. He won the race (thankfully) of course, but he absolutely despised going to events like these. 

Too many people here. Possibly drunkards just partying it up with A-list celebrities and fellow racers. 

Ray somehow managed to convince him to go. Says he "needs to make peace with the other racers'' or that "he has to try to be nicer to them." He doesn't understand it at all. It's been this way for years. Jackson's already used to it. But nonetheless, he managed to reluctantly drag his ass here. 

It took less than five minutes of just standing around in the middle of the room for Jackson to immediately say 'fuck it' and make his way onto the rooftop of the building, away from where everyone else is at. 

He sighed, elbows propped up against the concrete railings. Ray would be disappointed, but he could just lie and say nobody wanted to talk to him. Well technically, it wouldn't be lying when that's exactly what happened. Nobody knew he was here, and thus nobody could talk to him.

"Hello?" 

Until someone else made their way to the rooftop as well. 

Jackson sharply inhaled, the winds howled, the cold breezes blowing past his face. He knew who that voice belonged to. 

"Brr. Really chilly here, huh?" She joked, rubbing her arms as a means to keep warm. Jackson attempted to ignore her, staring off into the distance, a can of cranberry flavored Sprite in his hand. 

"Hey um. Would you mind if I stayed here for a bit?" She asked, walking up right next to him. Well, she lingered just away from him, but just close enough where she could talk to him. 

Jackson groaned, lightly crushing the half empty can in his hands. "What do you want, Ramirez?"   

[Unfinished Ending]

[stellamancer]

niku (for the ask game) i wish you’d write a fic where reader is in grad school with gooj……..maybe a lil academic rivals to lovers….

gRAD SCHOOL WITH GOOJ.... and you can't just say MAYBE A LITTLE academic rivals to lovers to me. i cannot have just a little it MUST BE A BUFFET. 

UH ANYWAY. so actually, as someone who only did their undergrad, i had to ask the grad student i do know about the difference. and they actually ended up feeding me ideas. i can't take credit for their brilliance though.

> if theyre academic rivals to lovers then maybe theyre sharing an elective class that has a group project and theyre in diff groups

and also:

> well my apartment building has laundry in it > but imagine reader hauling their laundry to a laundromat n running into gojo > id shit > gojo sees u hauling ur laundry and follows u inside to bug u abt ur group project (separate groups btw) and he just sits there while u shove everything into the machine hoping he doesnt see ur underwear

i think being in separate groups for a group project would be fun. so uh, full disclosure i think i went kind of off the rails and i DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON WITH THIS ANY MORE. but uh. it got terribly self indulgent is and is just short of 5k which is is insane. so uh. yeah hahahaaHAHAHAHA. <- laughing to hide my tears.

anyway, as for my own idea. so uh, please ignore me for laying down some groundwork HAHAHA. so, reader and gojo ended up attending the same university for undergrad. it's a very prestigious school with a famously low acceptance rate (for reference, gojo was recommended for admittance and took the entrance exam for the funsies).

reader, who was used to being the top student, is somewhat surprised that, upon the results of their first major exam being posted, they are not first but SECOND. briefly, and I do mean briefly, they're kind of like ‘well this is a really prestigious school ofc there would be insanely smart people here that could best me’ but then they find out that the person in the top spot is satoru gojo.

and said gojo is known for being a filthy rich, insufferable slacker and because of that reader has no respect for him and gets MAD. especially since they've also heard the rumor that he's attending school for shits and giggles. so they study extra hard to try and knock him from the top spot only to wind up in second place AGAIN and the cycle continues.

gojo, on the other hand, doesn't really notice reader until a little later. he knows their name (he knows everyone's names) and that they're second place but he doesn't really pay them mind until the professor for their class has a ta conduct a free study period because they have a personal emergency to attend to. gojo gets very excited over this because it's finally his time to really shine as the top student in the class. he expects his classmates to flock to him for help with class material, and while a couple students do ask him for help, those who don't form groups of their own gather around reader. it doesn't bother him at first and he attempts to teach the students who have asked him for help but they don't seem to get it. which frustrates him a little. how can they not understand? Eventually some of them thank him for his attempt but go to ask reader and gojo is a little huffy about it. 

actually he's pretty huffy about it. 

after class, he approaches reader who is a bit 😑😑😑 at him because it's gojo, and he. Well. 

“must have been pretty nice having everyone ask for your help,” gojo remarks, derisive. “even though, i’m top of the class.” you scowl, annoyed. “well, maybe more people would have asked you if you were better at explaining things.” a couple of your classmates had mentioned asking gojo first, but couldn't make heads or tails of what he was saying. when you asked them to explain, you were able to understand, but only because you could reverse engineer his methods.  gojo shrugs, “not my fault they couldn't understand.” your jaw ticks. what is he on? “they asked you to help them, but you couldn't; of course it's your fault.”  “maybe they should have tried harder!” “maybe you should have tried a different teaching method!” you hiss before stomping off. 

and that's honestly the first time anyone has really argued with gojo in…. Well not a while, but the only one who ever challenges him like that is suguru. and he actually approaches suguru about the whole thing later and suguru basically agrees with what reader was saying which, gojo ultimately concedes to. 

so, he, begrudgingly, takes a different approach when the next class study session happens and is met with better results. gojo tries to gloat about it to reader but all he gets is a flat “good for you” and it upsets him because he worked hard, you know, he adjusted for everyone instead of everyone adjusting to him (like he's used to because he's a spoiled brat) and while it felt super good that so many of his classmates actually understood what he was saying this time he wanted reader to acknowledge him the most. 

again, he whines to suguru, who actually finds this all very funny, and suguru gives him a pat on the back too, but at this point gojo has become determined to have reader approve of him. 

which means gojo goes out of his way to interact with reader more but, is met with annoyance or hostility and normal people would just back off but not gojo. like he'll congratulate reader on their high score on the exam and reader will tell him to shove it and initially it kind of makes him mad (especially since reader is very cordial with literally everyone else) but eventually he starts to find it kind of fun to get a rise out of reader the way he does. (I think initially he thought the class was kind of boring but then he gets to look forward to antagonizing reader wtf is his problem). 

he does not get the approval he wants though, so at some point, he decides to double major— with one of his majors being the same as reader’s. this only bothers them more since now they see him MORE and he seems to handle the double major stuff flawlessly. 

anyway, reader doesn't manage to get better grades than gojo in any class by the end of their undergrad and gojo doesn't get the approval from them he craves. 

(I think there's an incident where one of them is accused by a jealous classmate of some form of academic dishonesty and the other defends them but I haven't decided on who. whoever it is though, probably starts to develop Feelings)

graduation comes and reader thinks that they are finally free of gojo, thinking he will go into the work force so he can ultimately take over the family company, bUT HE DOESN'T HE GOES TO GRAD SCHOOL. and reader is just appalled. like what the actual fuck. and so once again they have classes together but the only upside is that it's less often (since me grad school friend said that classes are more infrequent).

I like the separate group project idea so we are going with that. reader is fine with being a separate group from gojo until he’s all smiley at them and is like ‘looks like we’re competing again and reader is just like ‘fuck my stupid baka life.’

actually I feel like I put too much development thought into undergrad oh well. 

so since there is more free time in grad school so I'm thinking reader gets a job. maybe working as wait staff at a restaurant…. a fancy one. and gojo finds out when he goes there for a gojo family business dinner thing. reader has to keep a straight face and ignore gojo’s smarmy expression and how hot he looks in a suit (the suit is fan service for me).

during part of the dinner gojo excuses himself to go to the bathroom and happens to see reader joking around with a coworker. he's never seen reader with that expression before and gets a little annoyed/jealous (the jealousy is also fan service for me). 

gojo brings up reader's job next time they see each other for class saying he didn't know and reader's just like ‘why would I tell you?’ which makes gojo realize despite being academic rivals for years he doesn't actually know much about them. 

I think at some point they have a convo where reader is just like ‘why are you even going to grad school when you don't need to’ and gojo says that he doesn't have a lot of time left to do what he wants before having to fulfill his duties as the gojo family heir and he's the going to grad school because he wants to (keep seeing reader). reader actually feels bad for him when they realize the magnitude of the expectations placed on him and in this convo he mentions that competing with reader in school has made his college life fun. I think at this point gojo realizes he won't get to really see reader after grad school is over and that makes him sad. 

Mmmm. Maybe. They make a bet at this point gojo bets that if reader's group does better than gojo’s on the project he'll grant them any one desire they want and while reader is like ????? at first he explains that because of who he is he can do anything with his money and/or influence but if his group does better then reader has to do anything he wants and they’re like okay yeah sure whatever rich boy.

so reader does their best to encourage their group mates to well on this group project (which i have decided has a presentation at the end of the semester… it is a nice long semester long project). i’d say most of them at know of reader and gojo’s rivalry (or at least about gojo) and they’re pretty amenable to trying to show him up. 

over the semester stuff happens, you know extra relationship building stuff, with gojo constantly asking about the project. he'll occasionally annoy reader at work (and maybe try to shoo away the coworker he thinks is interested in reader), bug them at the library, drag them to dinner after class and. idk. despite gojo becoming less of a rival and more of an annoyance, reader starts to get endeared to him.

just as finals week, when they have to do their presentation, is approaching, reader is at the library and their laptop just. stops working. and they start to freak out because even though a lot of stuff for the project is saved to a cloud storage, they still have some things saved locally. gojo happens in as they're having a meltdown and calms them down and tries to assess what happened to the laptop. and like. 

you feel like you can't breathe. the realization that you've lost hours upon hours of work weighs down on your chest. can you possibly do it all again with what time you have left before the presentation? 

no. 

it's not a question of whether you can or can't: you have to, if not for you, then everyone else in your group. they're depending on you; you can't let them down.

“hey.”

if you call out for your next couple of shifts and pull a couple all nighters, you might be able to redo everything.

“hey.”

it won't be pleasant, but you have to do what you have to do. you don't want everyone to worry, but you should at least let them know what's going on. the thought of messaging the group chat, though, fills you with dread. 

someone flicks your forehead and you let out small cry. “what the hell!”

gojo looks petulant as ever and you remember you have to deal with him too. could this get any worse? his finger presses against your forehead as he asks, “tell me what happened.”

“i told you. it stopped working.”

“be more specific.” 

you groan, “just…. the screen went black and I pressed the power button but it wouldn't turn back on but it sounds like it's on.” 

gojo hums and leans down over the table, pressing his ear to the laptop. he hums again and nods to himself. “i think I know what's going on.” 

“are you the laptop whisperer or something?” you ask flatly. 

“something like that,” he answers nonchalantly, flipping the lid closed and pulling out his phone. he starts typing on it one handed. “but I think most people call it being computer savvy.”

“are you saying you can fix it?”

he shoots you a cocky grin. “who do you think you're talking to?”

you ignore him. “well?”

he huffs. “i can't believe you're doubting me here.”

“gojo…”

“just trust me, everything will be fine!” he says and starts to pack up your laptop. you protest but he doesn't listen. “but we need to have the operation at my place.” 

you scowl. “gojo, i’m not—”

“you don't have to come if you mind leaving your laptop in my care,” he shoots you a saccharine sweet smile and your frown deepens. he knows that you won't just let him take your laptop with him. crafty bastard. 

“ugh, fine,” you relent. 

gojo snickers in satisfaction and starts to call someone as you gather the rest of your things. from what you can hear, it sounds like he's calling his driver. 

ten minutes later, gojo is ushering you into the sleek black car that he gets driven around in. you expect gojo to talk your ear off during the ride to his place, but he's oddly quiet and glued to his phone. you're curious, but you decide it's better to not ask. 

soon enough you're both dropped off at one of the tallest high rise apartments you've seen in your life. gojo casually taps his phone to a panel by the door and walks in with you scampering after.

you want to be surprised when you both ride the elevator to the top floor, but admittedly you're not. of course gojo has a penthouse apartment, why wouldn't he? not only that but it's wildly high tech— you can only imagine how much it must have cost… 

“you hungry?” gojo asks as you both enter his spacious living room area. “i can order something; anything you want— my treat.” 

the offer startles you, but reflexively you shake your head. “no, i’m fine. i—”

“sushi, then,” he decides with a nod. 

“wait, no, i—” you start to protest, but gojo is already fiddling with his phone. “gojo, really, it's fine, i’m not hungry.” 

“oh too late, i already ordered.”

you sigh as he flashes you a conspiratory grin. well, you suppose it wouldn't hurt to have some when it arrives. free dinner, maybe, you guess. “okay so, how do you intend to fix my laptop?” 

gojo tuts at you and wags his finger. “all will be revealed in good time.”

“tell me or i’m leaving,” you hiss, glaring. you don't have the time to humor him if it turns out he's just been fucking around this whole time. 

gojo pouts. “you're no fun.” 

“i can't fuck up this project; not with my group mates depending on me.” 

you don't mention the bet. honestly, at this point you don't care if you lose as long as you can salvage the project enough to make sure your group gets a decent grade. 

he sighs. “I know, I know.” 

“so tell me, what are you going to do.” 

gojo leans against the wall. “just a simple extraction. seems like the motherboard died, but the data on your hard drive should still be intact, so we're just going to extract it.”

“you can do that?”

“wouldn’t suggest it if I couldn't,” he says with a shrug. “just waiting for something i need to do it but it should arrive soon enough.” 

you stare at him, unsure of what to say. it's awfully nice of him to help you. especially when he could have just walked away, left you there with your broken computer and despair, and yet… “thank you gojo, really.”

for once in his life, gojo looks absolutely speechless, widened eyes peering over the top of his sunglasses. you blink. is it just you or do you see the faintest shade of pink dusting over the tips of his ears?

“well, while we wait, why don’t i give you the grand tour?” he asks and his voice is unnaturally loud, moreso than usual. 

“i don’t need a tour.”

“come on,” he insists, moving over toward you and circling around to grab you behind by the shoulders. “it’ll be fun! i never get to show off my place!” 

before you can protest, gojo starts propelling you around his penthouse. his voice is filled with a childlike excitement as he shows you every nook and cranny of the place. it’s sleek, modern, and ridiculously clean, just like how you would expect the home of any rich heir to a corporate conglomerate to look. however, as you move to room to room, you see little peeks of gojo’s personality shining through.

like the display of pictures next to his computer setup (three screens is kind of overkill in your opinion though).

the legitimately impressive sunglasses collection he has in his bedroom (you had always suspected he had something like this). 

the almost terrifying array of candy and sweets he has lining the cabinets of his kitchen. 

while he's rifling through a box of imported american snack cakes to show you, you notice a cup of dry erase markers next to the fridge which has a board affixed to it. the board is devoid of any writing or marks and you can't help but wonder if gojo has ever used it.

he wouldn't mind if you scribbled something on it real quick, would he?

“whatcha doin’?” he asks as you grab a black marker from the cup.

“defacing your personal property.”

“huh?!” he exclaims as you pop off the cap. “hey, wait a sec—”

you do not. before he can try to stop you, you start to doodle a cartoonish rendition of him. large round glasses, a stupid big grin and… well, you try to recreate his hair but it looks more like a soggy sea star with too many arms.

“what the hell is that?” he asks. “is that supposed to be me?”

“obviously.” 

he clicks his tongue. “i'm way more handsome.”

you roll your eyes. “are you?”

gojo hmphs and steps over toward you, grabbing a blue marker from the cup. “of course i am.” 

you roll your eyes as he starts his own drawing next to yours. at first you think he's just going to show you up with a better rendition of himself, but you quickly realize that it's not him he's drawing.

it's you. 

gojo is a much better artist than you are (it probably helps that he's not trying to scribble it really quickly like you are) and his doodle of you looks much better than your drawing of him. 

“so?” he asks when he's done. “what do you think?”

if you're being honest, it's actually really cute. embarrassingly cute. “i… i think you’re just trying to show off.”

“...well, i am quite skilled in more than just academics, you know,” he boasts earning him another eye roll. “it's okay if you don't want to say it looks good, we both know the truth.”

“...shut up.” 

he snickers. “if you're done drawing all over my fridge, then there's one more stop on satoru gojo’s grand house tour!” 

you tilt your head and he motions for you to follow him. he brings you to what you assume must be a big window with the curtain drawn, but with the press of a button the curtains slide back to reveal the balcony. gojo slides the door open and gestures for you to go outside first.

the air outside is a little chilly but it's not too bad. there's some furniture set up for lounging, but otherwise the balcony is rather bare save for…

“it's beautiful…” you murmur as you stare at the view of the tokyo skyline, the lights of the city sparkling brightly against the darkened sky. 

“right?” gojo chuckles and there is something about it that makes you turn back to look at him.

he's staring right at you. 

the soft smile gracing his features makes your mouth feel very, very dry for some reason and despite the fact that you desperately want to look away, you can't bring yourself to. the air between you both is an odd sort of quiet that has you feeling all sorts of nervous and you try to think of something to say to feel that almost awkward void.

luckily for you, the doorbell rings just in time to save you. 

gojo’s head whips around suddenly and you think you see the ghost of a frown before he scampers toward the front door. you trail after, watching as he throws it open to reveal a handsome, but tired looking young man. you recognize him from some of the pictures gojo had by his desk; they must be friends. 

“satoru, isn't there someone who you personally pay to run your errands?” the other guy asks as he enters and you notice he's carrying a bunch of bags. “why ask me?” 

gojo tilts his head innocently. “why not?”

his friend sighs. 

“sooo, did you get it?” gojo asks as his friend hefts the bags onto the counter. 

the other guy looks at gojo like he's an idiot. “of course i did.”

gojo beams widely. “knew i could count on you suguru!”

said suguru rolls his eyes again before turning his attention to you. there's a curious spark in his eyes as he offers you a pleasant smile “i don't believe we’ve met before…”

“i’m gojo’s classmate,” you say before giving him your name. 

“ah yes, satoru speaks of you often,” he remarks. “i'm suguru geto, it's a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“um, same to you, i guess.” you're not quite sure what to do with the information that gojo's been talking about you to other people. you can't imagine he's said anything good.

so after reader and suguru introduce themselves to one another they either have a short convo where suguru roasts gojo (as is his right) or gojo interrupts before he can and they eat the sushi that gojo made suguru pick up (the sushi place is actually a small little shop, not anywhere really fancy, which reader notices immediately— maybe it’s somewhere gojo dragged reader to previously, but he’s a regular so they gave him extras lmao). 

gojo doesn’t actually eat though, because he’s too busy extracting reader’s hard drive from their laptop and when reader mentions he’s not eating, gojo tells reader they can hand feed them. reader refuses. lmaooo. it doesn’t take super long for gojo to complete the surgery and when he’s done he drags reader to his massive computer set up and plugs the hard drive (which has been converted into an external hard drive and it works!! and—

you hold your breath as gojo mouses over to the file folders to open the hard drive. as he does, some measure of relief eases into you as you see the familiar names of your folders and documents. 

but you can't breathe easy just yet. "which one is it?" gojo asks. "this one?" he hovers over a file that has the class name along with the words 'group project.' you nod and he opens it.  ordinarily, you'd be a little defensive about letting gojo see your project, but given the circumstances, you don't think you can afford to be. he scrolls down to the bottom and you can tell that the file isn't exactly up to date. it's missing about a page's worth of information you'd typed up.  but that's probably about fifteen minutes of work at most, much better than what you'd thought you'd lost.  the relief consumes you completely and before you can even really realize what you're doing, you're throwing your arms around gojo's shoulders wrapping him into hug. "oh thank god..." you murmur into the fabric of his shirt.   "...didn't think you thought that highly of me," he murmurs with a chuckle. immediately, you jump back. embarrassed, you clear your throat. "i don't, but you can have a pass this time around." "no, no i think you should keep showering me with praise." you roll your eyes and gojo rises from his chair, stretching. then he turns to you, with a familiar grin that makes your stomach do a flip. you don't think you're going to like what he has to say next. "so, what now?" you blink. oh maybe that wasn't so bad. "your laptop's shot, y'know." right. you grimace. you still have to finish your project. and you need a computer to do that. unfortunately, you don't own a desktop and you don't exactly have the cash to drop on a new laptop. "um, well..." you could use the computers at the school library, but it's way too late to go there now. "if you ask nicely, i'll lend you one of my laptops." "no thanks," you answer automatically. 'one of his laptops?' must be nice being rich. why would he need more than one anyway? "...i can just go to a net cafe." "a net cafe?" gojo exclaims in disbelief. "yeah, they're open all night and if i need to sleep there i can." he grimaces. "no, absolutely not." "it's not your choice," you say flatly. "i mean, wouldn't it be easier... and cheaper to just take one of my laptops?" he's got a point, but. "it's fine, you've helped me enough. i'd feel bad if something happened to one of your laptops." you doubt your luck is that bad. it's not like gojo couldn't replace it in a blink in an eye, but still. "then i can just give it to you, problem solved.' you almost choke. "absolutely not!" 

after some back and forth, gojo (with suguru’s help) convinces reader to not go to the net cafe, but reader refuses to take home one of gojo’s laptops sO THEY END UP sitting at the coffee table in his living room to work on their project. to reader’s surprise, he actually lets them work in peace (instead he annoys suguru). though at some point reader dozes off and when they wake up… they are in gojo’s bed. they freak out but it’s only them in the bed and when they leave the bedroom they find gojo snoring on the couch. Suguru, who also stayed the night, and is awake making coffee tells them that gojo carried to them to the bed and decided to sleep on the couch (suguru also slept on the couch it’s a big couch). he makes some kinda cryptic comment before he leaves and reader is just like ????? but shrugs it off as gojo’s bestie also being a weirdo and they try to thank gojo by making him breakfast but the freak doesn’t actually have anything to make breakfast with it so they just work on their project til he wakes up. 

when he does wake up reader does mention wanting to thank him by making him breakfast and he gets stupid excited and tries to drag reader off to the store to get stuff but reader is in the middle of some project stuff and, without thinking tells him to take an iou. and he gets weirdly serious about it, asking if they’ll really do it later and, reader’s like ‘um yes? why are you getting weird about this?’ and he just gives some non answer and doesn’t say THAT HE WANTS READER TO MAKE HIM BREAKFAST because like atp he is very down bad about reader (he and suguru actually were talking about this when reader was working on the project the night before). 

anyway, project presentation time and reader is a bit nervous and so is the rest of the group, but reader is confident that they will do well. and everyone in the group is like yeah, and then uh, gojo’s group waltzes in, oozing confidence and gojo is fucking dressed to the nines, in a suit and tie and his hair styled and reader’s like ‘fuck he’s hot wait what.’ and he comes over and and in his attempt at a rizzed up moment wishes reader’s group luck. one of the girls in reader’s group makes a super funny comment and reader is like ‘shut up.’

both groups do well and after the presentations are done, gojo drags his group and reader’s group to yakiniku or something that’s on him and everyone goes and. everyone but gojo and reader get drunk and gojo and they talk about the project and they both concede that the other did good and they actually aren’t sure who won. 

turns out they both scored the same lmao. so no one wins. reader takes it as a loss but gojo is pretty pleased and suggests that since it was a tie he’ll do something that reader wants if reader is willing to do something he wants and reader is just like ‘ugh fine whatever.’ so gojo asks what they want first and reader’s just like ‘i don’t really want anything i just wanted to beat you once.’ and gojo’s like ‘oh well… i’ll take an iou on a favor then’ and reader’s like ‘okay fine so what do you want?’

"well," gojo drawls, thoughtfully. "i gave it a lot of thought and at first i was thinking i'd ask for us to call it a truce and just be friends. but that's kinda boring, don't you think?" boring isn't quite how you'd put it.  "so i was thinking that instead, you could go on a date with me instead," he proclaims with a big grin. "that's fair don't you think?"

your eyes nearly pop out of your head. a date? he can't be serious.

"i'd pay for everything still, of course, can't risk the date going badly, you know." you scowl. "are you saying that i'd screw up a date just because i can't afford to go whatever fancy restaurants a rich guy like you is accustomed to?" he shoots you a mischevious grin. "well, no i didn't quite say that... but if you'd like to prove me wrong..." "fine!" you hiss. "i'll show you! it'd be the best date you've ever been on!" his smile eases into something, a little more gentle, a little more fond. "i'd love to see you try." 

(spoiler alert: he didn't want the date to go badly because he wants to actually date you but you'll find that out soon enough lmao).

[logarithmicpanda]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard - a full review

This is going to have extensive spoilers! the TL;DR is that I had a lot of fun with the game, a very good 8.5/10 overall, also be aware this is highly subjective to my experience as a DA fan

And I lied previously, I am actually doing a second run immediately as an Antivan Crow Rogue hehe

Gameplay

The Good

Actually functional map (I hated the Inquisition map that wouldn't actually let me know where I could walk)

Fun and dynamic combat, the animations are really pretty, the style is fluid

Combos are nice and a good alternative (at least to me) to the stilted strategy stuff. I liked not having to keep track of the companion's healthbar, only their attacks cooldowm

Not overwhelming with useless quests, everything feels tied up either to the companions storylines or to the main issues

Exploration feels nice, probably my favorite part

I realized fairly late in the game that I could boost the broken faction by selling valuables through the Crossroads ship! I think it's fun, and it makes sense, like you're giving supplies to the city that needs it! I wish the shop were in the city itself, but it was fun so I'll allow it

A bit of an occupational bias on my part but I enjoyed how easy the UI made things? Comparing new equipment as soon as you get it, ease in reassigning points in the skill trees...

It's not specific to this game but I really like that there isn't that many weapons/armors but that you gain levels on them. Also huzzah for getting rid of inventory limitation and allowing me to pick every single thing on the map like the gremlin I am. Also also, bonus points for the appearance override on stuff, love being able to be vain rather than wear whatever is stronger even when it's ugly haha

The Bad

The way some zones are blocked with no explanation or hint of when they will unlock is frustrating. I love backtracking when I get a new item/ability and that I can remember several places where to use it, not so much having to go back to random spots and just hope for the best.

Gift giving feels useless, there's barely one line of dialogue and no visible effect on approval. I really wish there had been more gifts and that you'd be able to help each companion make themselves at home throughout the game

I cannot understand the reasoning between making an early choice like the Treviso/Minrathous one lock the romance entirely. I wanted so badly for it to simply make things angsty, to make me work for the romance, only to be rewarded by Lucanis and Neve suddenly being a thing, even as I had been trying to get with either lmao (let me have polyamory if you want to play it this way??)

Aside from unlocking the shops and I'm assuming changing the result of the end battle, the factions were a bit useless. I expected to be able to really send out armies like in Origins maybe...

Dragon battles get repetitive I swear there was like ten of them or something

The final battle dragged a bit for me, it was long but not that hard, just wave after wave of fodder until getting to the main baddie, which. Could have been faster! (I would actually have loved if, for example, the factions allowed me to skip those boring battles lol)

World

The Good

The environments are amazing, Treviso is an incredible city, I liked the designs of the story cards and of the enemies

Some parts (mostly explorations of buildings) felt super reminiscent of DA2 in the best way

The Solas lore is driving me absolutely insane!!!

I really enjoyed the way some things were recontextualized

The choices in the ending feels weighted, like I had to really think through my actions

I really enjoyed the variety there was in terms of side characters and their dynamics

It felt very rewarding to go after the world's hidden secrets, both in terms of story and gameplay

The Bad

There is maybe too much magic. Like put some back.

Where are the consequences of the choices of the previous games? It doesn't even feel like it matters all that much whether the Inquisition disbanded or not

What happened with the Mage/Templar conflict?

Minrathous in the intro is all cool and futuristic why don't we see that for the rest of the game? Dock town is both poor and somehow super sanitized.

Speaking of sanitation... Like I disagree when people say the game is not dark, it has plenty of twisted shit, but there are ways in which the game feels retconed to avoid callouts. You put us in a city built on slavery, but we never really see that. You put us with the Crows, but the horrible, mafia aspect of it is reduced to nothing, smoothed until they're vigilante rather than people who buy kids out of brothels to train them to become assassin (notably through torture!) Also for a game with that much blight - where are the brood mothers? The horrifying concepts that existed in previous games feel like they're being either hidden away or forgotten entirely, to be replaced with only smaller chunks of darkness, if that makes sense.

It feels like the good guys are all good, and the bad guys are bad but really they had reasons to, rather than how it was in previous games: even the good guys are unbelievably morally fucked.

Characters

Just to start, I really enjoyed the variety of options in the character creator. I was able to do the same noses that elves had in DA2, which I really enjoyed as a design choice. I'm also super glad the game had options to be trans and non binary, with no restriction to what that looks like! I was already delighted in BG3, but I am not over having game characters use they/them for me <3

I wish the romances were better (longer, less formulaic, more involved) and that the characters didn't start up morally upright. They're all a bit too wholesome, they don't really have conflict, which I missed from previous games, though I have to say, I love the companions overall a lot more than in Inquisition!

Companions

It was nice to see Harding again, I flirted with her in Inquisition haha. Her questline with the dwarves and the titans ties up nicely with the overall theme of the game

From the trailers I expected to adore Neve and to have a lot of romantic tension with her, but uh the romance was rather underwhelming. I do like her a lot, and her calling Rook Trouble as a cute nickname made me giggle, but tbh I shipped her more with Rana. I already said it but I was not a fan of her and Lucanis, it feels unfair that she and my Rook were both shadow dragons but Lucanis only got mad at me lol. I don't really understand that design choice

Bellara is my surprise fave. She looked kinda interesting to begin with but ended up being sooooo relatable. She's brilliant and awkward and writes books? She got blighted in my run and it was so satisfying to get her back, and to see her exploit the blight for her own ends. I was afraid she was going to remind me too much of Merrill, but the similarities are only surface level.

Lucanis broke my heart and is the main reason I'm doing a second playthrough straight away. I did watch his romance and I think it is a tad underwhelming compared to how the writers were hyping it up, but as a demi, I actually really love the slow burn lmao. I wish his storyline had more conflict with Spite, and touched more on the darker aspects of the crows, but I really liked that they went countercurrent and made him a bit awkward and shy, and obsessed with food and coffee. He's a nerdy (affectionate)

Davrin gave me so many fuckboy vibes at the beginning hahaha he grew on me, his relationship with Assan is lovely and the evolution he has might actually be my favorite of the lot (then again, when have I not enjoyed a character that's just a little bit suicidal). He died in my first run and I cried, definitely changing that for my second run, RIP Harding

Emmrich was really interesting for the lore, but also tragically reminds me of my ex xD so he was off the table as a romance for me but I looked around and it seems he actually has the better romance of the lot! I loved his questline, I'm a sucker for spirits and skulls and green fire hehe. I wish the lich thing was a bit more problematic like. Yeah no I do not actually think turning into an immortal undead that watches over mortals makes any sense, especially when an overall theme of the game seems to be that immortals keeps fucking people over?? Such a weird take to make liches into good people imo

I know Taash is controversial, and I'm not gonna lie they weren't my fave to start with. I do find their storyline a bit too simplistic on the gender side, and plain weird on the cultural side. Why would they have to pick one culture or the other? It's bullshit and it feels tone deaf after the whole argument that they don't have to choose between being a woman and a man. Also (and that's more a general gripe I have with games that touch on dom/sub dynamics) why are the beefy tall people always the doms. Why can't my tiny Rook be the dom, uh?

Returning Characters

The Inquisitor felt like they really were there just to placate fans of Inquisition tbh. I did lookup the solasmancer scene and it is pretty sweet, but for me seeing my Inquisitor again did very little, especially since I had romanced Dorian but that barely seemed to matter.

Speaking of Dorian I was so hyped to see him again, and then felt kinda underwhelmed. His little fight with Maeveris made me feel like I was supposed to pick her over him but tbh I think he's right lol

It was nice to see Isabella again but my Hawke had romanced her so not really seeing her mentioned felt weird as hell. It also felt like Isabella was more a caricature of herself than a character tbh

I was sure Varric was dead from super early in the game because everyone was weird in his scenes hahahaha *sobs* I was sad but I also really liked the way they handled it

Solas is so much more of a dickhead hahaha I was tempted to do the bait and switch even though I had everything ready to reason with him one last time. I liked that I was able to change his mind, but I feel like I should have been allowed to kick him. Just because. His dreadwolf transformation was fire though, 10/10 no notes

Morrigan my beloved I kinda wish they hadn't brought you back. I guessed very early the meaning of her wearing Flemmeth's headpiece thingie, but I think it was underexploited! Their relationship was frought with angst from Origins on, and it feels like it's been retconned, and Morrigan made into someone overall way too nice??? Where is the sense of danger?

Characters that should have returned >:( (or be mentioned a couple times)

The Warden. How do we still not know what happened to their quest of ending the Calling?? In many ways, the game feels like a sequel to Inquisition specifically, and kinda ignores the first two games. (Yeah yeah they need to let new players come in, but still)

Zevran??? I have no words for how disappointed I am to have a game set in Antiva, and the only hints to Zevran are subtle and missable ( I did not get the banter about Crows no longer taking contracts in Ferelden). It would have been so interesting to have him, who comes from the worst, most violent houses of Crows, as a contrast to Lucanis, who was born into it (and whose worst times are glossed over in the game)

I would have liked a mention of Leliana, but I guess since they don't ask if she became the Divine, it was not going to happen. She already came back once so I guess it's fine but still.

A mention of Sven could have been cool (maybe I missed it)

I am so devastated that a game set in Mirathous makes no mention of Fenris, especially after the whole blue wraith thing????? And the design of the spirits like the Caretaker are so reminescent of his lyrium markings, come on, it's not like the devs forgot he existed??? I low key headcanon that a romanced Fenris with a Hawke left into the Fade created the Shadow Dragons, with the name being a wink to Hawke's love of dragons.

Speaking of Hawke. We spend so much time in the Fade in this game it would have been really easy to add their journal or something even if you don't want to have the character physically there??

I need Merrill and Solas to be in the same room. Come on. The blood mage ready to do anything to learn of the past, and the god of lies who despises the current Dalish culture? I need them to have a conversation. Also I always feel mad that she worked so hard on her Eluvian, and now they're mentioned and shown everywhere but she is seemingly entirely forgotten????

Josephine also feels like she could have been hanging around Treviso but I'm not that mad about it, I was never as insane about the Inquisition characters compared to the other games lol

Conclusion

Is the game perfect? No. Did I expect it to be? Absolutely not haha come on I love this franchise but there has been valid criticism of absolutely every single one of them, and retconned things all around. Plot lines dropped and abandoned.

Honestly I think my biggest disappointment has been the romance (I wanted the angst so bad lol) but I loved the story, loved the gameplay, and do not regret any of the 70 hours I spent on my first run. It never happens, for a game this long, that I want to replay it right after finishing.

8.5/10

[spearxwind]

Hiya, I’d like to put some thoughts out there on my blog (my house) bc I need to yarf some intense feelings or I fear I will explode on a nuclear scale. This is about hollowridge (not in a negative light!! just explaining + reminiscing of old stuff and talking about new stuff. Pouring my heart out more than a little bit.)

I will put them under a readmore of course, this is PRETTY long winded, so you can read or ignore at your leisure -w- 

I was in my adri tag a while ago looking for some images and ended up going through the whole thing and seeing the evolution of him as a character and HR as a story. Additionally, I recently organized my external memory where all my art files are stored and also saw my old stuff, old concepts, old documents with info and ideas, etc etc and like other times where I have looked through my old stuff I have been WRACKED with so many emotions about it. It’s always a dangerous game to go back into my folders/tags to look because I always end up feeling this whooole spiel all at once and very intensely.

Seeing my content shifts is jarring. Very much so. It always is. I don’t think I can pinpoint causes, some of my better creative highs were at really low points in my life, and then other times my creativity and worlds were subsequently really hardly hit during similar lows. I like to think that I am on the up now though, both mentally and creatively. I’m getting back into a lot of things I love, and I am surrounded by people who I love dearly and who love me back, and things in general are really good! I feel less… I wouldn't say wrathful, but way less frustrated when looking back at my old stuff and more inspired to go back to these concepts with a healthier more open mind + knowing that I have improved nonetheless. 

Specifically for hollowridge. Hollowridge feels like a home to me, simple as that. It's something immensely dear to me and I think this is clear by how much effort I have put into it over time, not all of it well placed or with good results, but effort to make it the best that it could be (at best) and effort to keep it afloat (at worst). HR is a strange thing to look back on because it has gone through so many iterations that its hard to pinpoint just one when looking back, but there's a specific time slot (2017-2018 roughly… I’m not gonna check) that I believe is where it was at its best, and that is specifically the vibe that I am trying really hard to go back to with the newest iteration.

I’ve always struggled with it a lot, I've often voiced this publicly, or to friends who would hear my woes out (god bless them for hearing me go on and on about this like a bass boosted and emotional broken record), often because there was so many possibilities that I could run with and I had a lot of really, really conflicting ideas that I wanted to explore. I also had a lot of trouble with lore in general because for many years I was haunted by the absurd need to “make things make sense”, whatever that means. Having things grounded so that people wouldn't be able to poke holes into the watertight plot.. which I never achieved of course. It was less watertight and more of a welded together pringle shaped monstrosity (This was not only true for hollowridge, but was true for everything I have ever made. like in general. It’s been a consistent creative problem for me). 

Eventually what happened iteration after iteration was that I throttled myself too much with rules, random limitations, all in favor of making something cohesive and deleting all the fun bits off the project in the process.

For this reason I also can’t just up and go “yeah i'm gonna turboscrap everything and go back to what worked in 2017” because it also DIDN’T work then. But that vibe specifically is what I am aiming for. The “classic” vibe, if you will (if that means anything to you as it does to me.)

What didn't work for me back in the day was giving everything a reason for existing, which is something I no longer wish to do (it’s better that way) and also something that failed back then both in HR, and in extinction (earlier drafts) and just about any version of a story I ever tried to make was THE SCOPE. It always spiraled out of my hands. God entities always escape me. Magic systems always escape me. How cities and such would be regulated in these scenarios escape me. Its just things I’m not comfortable writing about in general

So that’s why I have made changes to it currently (the whole lens of technology over it) because it makes it easier to think about, and easier to handle. Post apocalypses are fun to handle, and also easy to handle (for me, in this context). Technology going awry feels like its easier to think about than just vague “magic”, even if in the end the aesthetic looks literally exactly the same. Does that make sense? I hope it makes sense.

To give an example: Magic spells and circles → programs and code lines. That can be shot into machinery or meat (recodes your fucking genome in real time and gives you super brain hemorrhage idk). I guess it just gives my brain something to latch onto that isnt just vague rules of a magic system that could potentially be anything and everything? It essentially works the exact same way… its just the lens of looking at it is changed.

Mimics are their own thing now (nanotechnology, instead of vague.. shadow things). Adri is his own thing while still connected to mimics (an angel array made of the same stuff, instead of.. whatever else). Connected to the world. AND all the conflicting but dearly beloved concepts I had for him actually fit (snake, scarf, smoke, usurper of a body that is not his. Hey remember when he was made out of ashes/smoke and eventually out of goop. Well all of that is true at once now! It’s ALL canon! Bitch! The concepts have been reconciled!!)

There are also more “normal” creatures besides these, animals that have either evolved aboveground due to fit into new world niches (so I can design Whatever without being too limited) and there’s also machine/biomachine chimeras, and purposed grown organisms, and just Weird Shit made by machines in the belly of the earth (meat is just complex machinery. you know this. your heart is a piston and your blood gasoline. but I digress.) So I have the space to Get Weird if I so choose, on my own terms this time. And it will have a proper place in the world.

There used to be a lot of concepts that were cool that I missed a lot when I had to shift away from them. Like mimics infecting people and pretending to be them, and then being able to break the hosts bodies apart to make bodies for the mimic itself. That did not fly in pretty much 80% of the later versions of HR but I was able to bring it back for this one. I’ve tied mimics to the epidemic and to Adri in a way that MAKES SENSE but lets me go wild anyways

I guess… the short way of explaining is that. Instead of it being very vague supernatural stuff of dubious origin, now it's a ‘manmade horrors beyond your comprehension’ type deal (still of dubious origin). Which obviously neither the characters nor I would be able to explain to you the details of its origins but the distinction MATTERS to me (to my brain).

Something else about HR is that it’s made up of me having rounded up a bunch of ocs who’s stories were empty or were left to the void so that they could have a fitting home where they could shine. At the end of the day I just wanna do my characters justice. I don’t want to just relegate them to nice set pieces (even though they ARE cool set pieces), but each of them has years of backstory stuff that I would like to keep to not lose the essence of said character and its where I put the bulk of my writing effort into.

I want their connections to the story to be solid, but I also want their base vibes and the vibes I am familiar with for those characters to BE THERE too. So if I’m slow with revealing info, or writing in general, its literally because all the processing power in my skull is being used to think of how to best approach that and not just throw low quality spaghetti at a wall. (Sometimes the spaghetti method works very well, but often. It does not. And only makes things more complex in the long run, so I have learned to be more careful with it)

Dianne and Nirven are over 12 years old now as characters. That 's insane. And she still has the same core concept of how her magic works as I created it ages ago.

Same for Bei. He still has his same vibe back when I made him 10 years ago.

And Adam when I made him 9 years ago. Though I’m working out stuff for him still in this new edition, but I’ll get there. I promise. 

Sooo……….. What I’m really trying to say is that I’m learning to have fun again. And at the same time (re)realizing I used to have some super swag ideas that I have never fully let go of that I am VERY adamant on keeping. And my aim is to go back to that unhinged unbridled joy of creating for a world that is just So Fucked Up but it Works somehow. And yeah, if you’ve ever been frustrated at my changes don’t worry: me fuckin’ too buddy. A thousandfold. And if you’ve ever been curious as to the why of everything, then I hope this rant serves as some sort of explanation?

So yeah, if you’re an old fan and missed old stuff, I hope I am able to do it justice once more and from now on. I promise I am trying my best, I always have been. It just works better sometimes. And if you are someone new and dont know what the fuck I’m talking about, 1. thank you for reading this far and 2. I hope you enjoy the ride regardless

And who knows…. knowing me in a few years I might see this all changed again. Or maybe this will be the one, finally, that sticks. We’ll see. At the moment like I said, I am focusing on loving my characters, their world, their and my original intentions, and just having as much fun as I can with it. If I create confusion in the process then that’s something I will have to accept. I’m not a big media corporation with a team or writers, or even just one (1) accomplished author with a huge brain. I’m not tolkien. I’m just some guy having fun with made up guys in my brain

Thank you for reading this far, if you did, if there’s anything you’d like to comment or discuss (if anything, I don’t expect it) please feel free to reply or DM me, I try to respond in a timely manner when possible <3 

Thanks for sticking around too. It means the world to me that you have. Have a really good week, cheers

[salemssimblr]

Hello there! I'm Eden :D I LOVE your renders! I've been rendering for well over a year at this point, however I only stuck to the super basic stuff since it took me a year before that to even know how to do it at all. I've wanted to up my game and get to where you are now. I'm SO SORRY if this question was asked already (I haven't gotten too far in your posts yet), but;

How do you personally edit your renders? I understand you use photoshop, but how do you do it exactly? Your renders have that kind of digital art style, like you drew them yourself. Feel free to be as descriptive or brief as you'd like!

Hi Eden!!! Thank you so much! 🥹😍♥️

I've followed you back and glad we're moots! I'd love to see some of your work!

I'm not sure if I've answered this before but I'm happy to answer it again! Also I haven't advertised it in a while (and I really need to try to get up a new tut, maybe soon), but my alt account is a Render School where I post tutorials, with plans to post editing tutorials in the future!

But honestly as far as my editing, I really don't do much.

Actions are my secret weapon, and I have a few favorites/go-tos I'll link! A few are by simmers and a few are just action sets. I'm in a family of photographers, so I have access to a wealth of resources for my editing.

Sonder set by @intramoon

Cold Water set by @intramoon

Retro Prime photoshop actions

Indie camera photoshop actions

But my "secret weapon," as it were, and the set of actions that I think most helps me accomplish that digital art style is a set of actions that are sadly expensive and hard to find now.

My favorite set is by Totally Rad! and I think in recent years it's been folded in to this Pixel Sugar product on their website. I know that's a steep price point but it's possible you can find it around the corners of the Internet for less, or if you can't, you might be able to find "dupes" of the better ones, which imo are:

Technicolor dream world

Super Fun Happy

Bullet Tooth

Grandma's Tap Shoes

As for my method, I know a lot of simmers paint over their renders, and I've done that a few times but find I'm too impatient tbh. My goal is always to have to do only minor touchups over my renders and some color/vibe adjustments before the finished product. My "raw" files are always exactly what blender spits out for me, unaltered in any way except to resize them for Tumblr.

To get that digital art style, I'd recommend rendering with alpha details if you don't already. If your computer can't handle alpha cc in the game, DM me and I can give you some pointers (sneak peek info for a future tut lmao) on how to accomplish it without bogging down your game.

When I go into photoshop I adjust the brightness and contrast, as I tend to personally prefer high contrast pieces that contain dark subject matter but you can still see the details. Then I'll paint/blur/clone/adjust anything that needs it, then I'll "stack" and adjust a handful of actions before applying edge blur and vignette and any other color adjustments (levels, curves, etc).

That's a very oversimplified rundown of what I do, but really overall my editing process is simple. The bulk of my work happens in blender itself. I find that the more time I take to perfect the lighting and shadows and angles in blender, the less frustrating the editing process and the happier I am with the end result. So, that said, be sure you're spending a lot of time in blender getting the light and shadows to be exactly where you need/want them to be before running it.

I know this is a bit long I'm sorry! If any of it is super confusing or you'd like a more in-depth look at any of it please let me know! I do plan to do editing tutorials for my side blog, but the latter half of this year has kind of run over me like a train, and for now I'm just trying to get by day by day. But I'm happy to help if you have more specific questions!

& thank you again!! ♥️

[genericpuff]

I always enjoyed reading LO, though as of late I've gotten more critical of it and aware of the flaws in storytelling, art, pacing, etc (one can still like trash while recognizing it's trash, I guess), and it's been super weird being the only one in my friend group who's not seeing it as this perfect flawless comic anymore. Your retelling so far has been super refreshing and a joy to read, the art and character design is recognizable yet distinct and great on its own (I LOVE YOUR DIONYSUS SO MUCH HOLY CRAP HE'S SO GOOD), and like... I'm interested in where things are going! It's fun reading this! I still do enjoy LO (maybe it's the sunk cost fallacy, idk), but I'm invested in your version so much more now. So thank you for your work, it's really great :)

I know the story is focused more on H&P than the mostly cast of side characters, but are there any other myths that might get revisited as well? Eros/Psyche, maybe Ariadne since Dio is here...?

Absolutely, I say it a lot when the topic of "LO stans vs. LO critics" comes up but none of the criticism is meant to be persuasive debating, while it can be frustrating to voice our criticisms and be met with "yeah well that's just your opinion", we're also not criticizing the comic purely to convince you that it's trash, we're legit just engaging with the comic in our own way. The best way any LO fan can react to it is either to acknowledge the criticisms and move on, or not go out actively seeking the criticism in the first place if it's something that bugs them. But in the end, no one is talking about the comic in this way as a means to strong arm people into riffing on LO, we'll still be talking about it way past everyone's bedtimes regardless of whether or not you chime in and/or agree. I think a lot of people who enjoy LO have a hard time separating those two things because they love the comic so much that any criticism is automatically flagged as "they're trying to make a hater out of me". And yeah, maybe we are a little bit (because it's fun to riff on this comic and the crit community has genuinely some of the nicest and funniest and most creative people I've ever met) but for the most part it's not our goal to make you hate the comic, we can't take your enjoyment of it away from you, even if you do recognize its flaws yourself. By all means, enjoy LO if you want to, we won't try and tell you not to! Just don't think that gives you permission to tell the critics to stop criticizing because that's a double standard we just ain't gonna stand for LMAO

All that aside, I'm glad you're enjoying Rekindled! As for the other stories, I'm trying to reel in Rekindled's plot to focus solely on H x P because I feel like that's what it should have stayed as. One of Rachel's biggest mistakes IMO was when she stated she "wanted to include as many myths as possible" because it's clear it's resulted in her prioritizing low effort Google-level lip service and Marvel-esque nostalgia referencing over telling an actual cohesive story. I'm taking a lot of the additional myths that Rachel tried to do in LO and leaving them on the cutting room floor, but when Rekindled is done, I'm hoping to pick up what was discarded and do them as little side stories after the fact. I feel like that's the best way to do it especially considering so many of the myths Rachel included didn't happen until after Hades and Persephone were married (including Eros and Psyche). I'd especially love to tackle Orpheus and Eurydice, it's one of my favorite myths :) Dio x Ariadne is also one I'm hoping to tackle, though that one I'll probably work more into Rekindled itself as Dio plays a huge role in Persephone's character arc, we'll see !

[scoops-aboy86]

What are your thoughts on Steve’s chronic migraines getting worse so Eddie and Robin convince him to go to the doctor. The medication he is given helps but perhaps it starts to cause weight gain #chubby Steve Harrington

To be honest, I don’t know if I know enough about migraines to go too deeply into that part of it. My brother gets them, and I briefly thought I was getting them in college but that turned out to be just my sinuses trying very hard to murder me on a seasonal basis. The campus health center had me keep a food journal for a while in case it was a dietary trigger, though, which I kind of want to foist on Steve. Like, what if…

(This got away from me, what else is new, please either enjoy or suffer for the next 3k words. The meds definitely kicked off Steve’s weight gain, partly because meds do that and partly because he doesn’t end up puking his guts out as often anymore, but the combo of the food journal and the stress reduction of he finds in eating definitely awakens something that keeps it going.)

Hawkins Memorial Hospital and all its patient records were obliterated over the course of defeating Vecna. So now that the Upside Down is gone and the older teens have moved out of Hawkins, Robin and Steve got into college somewhere (Steve by the skin of his teeth, if only because I’m not sure if community colleges have health services for their students), and Eddie lives with them too while he works at an auto shop and tries to scrape a new band together.

Between the migraines and the campus nurse “what if”ing him about shit, because he no longer has the medical history on his whopping total of four concussions in three years, Steve has very little patience for being instructed to write down everything he eats for a week or two on the off chance his headaches are triggered by something he’s eating. He’s sure that’s not it. Robin and Eddie bully him into actually doing it, basically resulting in a communal journal where they all take notes on Steve’s meals. 

So Eddie is uniquely tuned in to Steve’s eating habits, even for a trauma-bonded roommate with a big gay crush. He doesn’t think much of it, but does have a lot of fun being all “You deserve a treat for finishing that homework on time, I’ll pencil you in for a donut and we’ll hit the corner market!” and whatever. Just a little bit of friendly teasing on the days Steve decides to be lazy and eats mostly junk. 

By the time Steve finally gets medication and a routine that actually helps keep the migraines at bay more often than not, the food journal is long done but Eddie still notices that stuff and is vaguely aware that Steve has started snacking more often, taking a little extra at dinner, doubling up on his usual bowl of cereal for breakfast. He also notices the way all of his jeans start to hug his ass more, the faintest suggestion of a future muffin top starting to bunch over waistbands when his shirts are tucked in, how he starts moving a little slower when taking the stairs up to their apartment two at a time (or, eventually, one at a time like what Eddie considers a normal person). 

He casually brings it up at one point, something offhand like, “Extra hungry today, Harrington? Or are you carb loading before a hot date, or whatever it is you jocks get up to before strenuous activity?” But Steve just laughs and helps himself to more pasta or whatever’s for dinner, his third serving, and says he’s pretty sure it’s the new meds are doing something to his appetite. So no, not just today. 

And Eddie doesn’t push, because Steve seems fine with it. The extra weight looks good on him, in Eddie’s opinion—anything would look good on Steve, but especially the contentment that comes with indulging the whims of his appetite. He’s quickly developing a snacking-while-studying habit, and Eddie learns that when Steve gets frustrated and tries to blow off doing the work, he can be both placated and bribed to continue with donuts. His grades are steadily improving, and that’s not the only thing on the upswing; he eventually consults both Robin and Eddie on how to size up his closet on a budget, too. 

The only thing Steve complains about is the dating dry spell he’s on, grumbling about shallow girls who don’t want to take the time to get to know him. Robin comments that he’s like a broken record, she heard all of this before when his parents cut him off and he didn’t have the money to plan lavish dates anymore… and Eddie feels like he’s been knocked over the head by the comparison. He can’t imagine not wanting to date Steve just because his money doesn’t grow on trees or he’s put on weight, what is wrong with those women?!

Because, call a spade a spade: if Steve were into guys, Eddie would ask him out in a heartbeat. Even if it could potentially torpedo their friendship. He puts so much energy every day into not flirting with Steve, and to be honest these days he’s mostly redirecting it towards bringing him treats. Steve has this unfortunate habit of licking his fingers (even when it doesn’t seem like he should need to!); Eddie is developing a staring problem. A worse staring problem. Whatever. 

Sometimes the three of them smoke up on Friday and Saturday nights when they have nothing better to do. (Read: don’t have dates. Eddie is used to being a dateless loser, but he feels bad for Steve and Robin. Indignant on their behalf. Secretly pleased whenever Robin has plans and relieved when Steve doesn’t, and guilty about both.) They pick out a tub each of ice cream in advance and order too much pizza and watch movies they barely pay attention to while bickering and giggling like idiots, and if it’s a double lame day weekend none of them bat an eye when Steve starts getting two tubs for himself so he doesn’t run out part way through. Goads one or both of them to bet on whether he can finish it in one sitting before it completely melts, leaving Eddie to have to hide a boner whenever the challenge devolves into messily slurping of whatever’s left at the bottom. 

It’s at the end of one of those nights where it’s just Steve and Eddie; they turn in for the night (or the pre-dawn hours at least), Steve taking a little longer to shuffle into his room because he offered to put the leftovers in the fridge. Eddie gets back up because his mouth is dry as hell, and opens the fridge for light while he hunts for a clean cup… only to realize the leftovers aren’t there. He checks the freezer, and his own mostly empty ice cream carton is missing too. Turns out, they’re in the trash, scraped clean. Steve must have finished everything. When he goes back to his room he can hear Steve moving restlessly through the thin shared wall, soft grunts and moans and muffled burps and—

Usually, Eddie tries to be a good roommate and put his headphones on when he realizes that Steve is having some alone time. But he’s sleepy and still stoned and doesn’t feel like getting up again, so he stays prone and closes his eyes, telling himself that he’s not listening, really he’s not, he’s just trying to sleep. The hand he’s palming himself through his pajama pants begs to differ, though. And if he thinks he hears choked moans of “more, give me more” and “please, I need it” and “yeah, give it to me, Eddie,” no he absolutely does not. He obviously just nodded off into a wet dream, because while Steve often joins him at Robin at the local gay establishments for nights on the town, he only ever hooks up with girls. 

The next weekend it happens again. Eddie has no idea if Steve is eating up all the extras in the kitchen or taking some of it back to his room, but it’s obvious where it’s all going. And either way the end result always seems to be the same: Steve eats and jerks off afterwards, and Eddie listens in and does the same. He feels like a creep for doing it, but the shame doesn’t hit until after he’s done biting his pillow to keep quiet and pumping into his fist until his toes feel permanently curled. 

But, he rationalizes, it’s not that weird that they each have their own guilty pleasures. Everybody’s got to have something at the end of the day, right? And at least pinning after Steve this way keeps him from doing anything stupid, like spending his weekend cruising for one night stands and STDs. It happens enough already on the rare occasions that Steve does have a date, he doesn’t need to up his risk factor for catching anything. 

This goes on until Robin and Steve graduate. Like, actual years. Eddie would feel like a monk by now if he wasn’t secretly indulging himself while imagining Steve on a regular basis, which is… it’s fine. At least it goes a long way towards keeping lingering nightmares about demon bats and evil veiny wizards at bay. 

They have two different ‘Congrats Grads’ parties in their cramped apartments, one with all their friends from school and around the city, and one for everyone who knows about the Upside Down. Eddie buys two huge sheet cakes for both, but is puzzled when there’s way too much left—and Steve doesn’t seem to have touched them. 

After the last round of guests has gone, including Robin who had announced out of nowhere that she was going to crash with Nancy in the latter’s hotel room and wake up early to do touristy things in the city while Nancy is visiting from Boston, Steve calmly gets both platters of remaining cake out. Without explaining himself, he also produces a gallon tub of ice cream and lays everything out on the coffee table in front of their second hand couch. His thighs and arms have grown thicker over the years, cheeks fuller, jawline softer. His belly rounds out before him, spilling over in front and a litte to either side even while empty, and he has this way of kind of holding it as he shifts further back on the couch to get comfortable, like he doesn’t want to jostle it or maybe, maybe just needs it a little out of the way to better move around. 

Eddie pretends not to watch but the second he glances up realizes he’s been caught out, because Steve meets his gaze, staring right back. 

“I wanted to show you something,” Steve says, and holds out the old food journal, abandoned many semesters and a whole diploma ago once it had been determined that Steve’s triggers were mostly bright lights and stress-related. 

Except… it wasn’t abandoned, apparently. Notes fill it up from cover to cover, post-its sticking out more and more towards the back pages where Steve’s increasingly squashed handwriting had run out of space for that day. Everything Steve had eaten, carefully recorded quantities. Some entries, Eddie notices, have a small ‘e’ written and circled next to them, and he’s about to ask when Steve sees where he’s looking and says, “That’s all the food you gave me.”

And Eddie hadn’t even realized how much he’d been doing that, because Steve had always just taken everything he’d offered without comment. It had become normal, like a reflex. And, okay, maybe he’d noticed that on days Steve ate more he tended to be a little more audible through the wall at night as he worked his way to completion, and maybe it had become Eddie’s favorite soundtrack to fall asleep too. 

He doesn’t realize that his jaw has dropped until Steve sits forward with a grunt—a series of them really, because Eddie is on the bean bag chair on the other side of the coffee table and that was a bit of a reach even before Steve had started adding pound after pound to his own frame—and nudges it closed with a finger under his chin. Your move, Steve’s eyes seem to say as he sits back, resettles his ass and then his belly all over again. 

“I’m bisexual,” Steve announces bluntly. “Figured I should just come out and say it, since I’m either really bad at hinting or you haven’t picked up on the fact I’ve been trying to for… a while now. Robin says it’s pretty painful to watch me fail so hard and you still act so oblivious. I think she’s sad for both of us. And,” he adds, laying a hand over the crest of his belly, “while I’m doing the open and honest communication thing—I like this. I like to eat, and I like how I look. And either you like it too or you’ve got this… codependent blind spot, Robin called it? Which I guess means you just give me things that you know I want without really thinking about it. But she also said that you might just think of me as off limits because we’re friends and we live together and I’ve never actually, like, told you that I like both, which… I don’t really have a good excuse for, other than being kind of a moron. So.” He gives his belly a double pat, which Eddie’s dazed brain can only liken to a judge banging a gavel, but whatever it’s supposed to mean is kind of drowned out by the way it wobbles and fills said brain with silent fizz. “This is me telling you. And asking, uh, if you’ve noticed, or have… any interest in me at all. If giving me food means anything, because—at the risk of making things incredibly weird between us—it makes me feel really good when you do.”

For a moment Eddie just gapes at him. He doesn’t even know when his mouth fell back open. His brain is still the equivalent of a shaken can of Coke that Steve’s just popped the top of, metaphorically foaming out his goddamn ears. And then when he tries to say something, it’s too many different sentences at once and just comes out as as a garbled, “Stehuhyuhwha…?”

Steve just huffs and says, “Stop trying to cheat at Scrabble, Eds.” Which is what Robin always says when Steve’s dyslexia or Eddie’s abuse of creativity in regards to spelling rears up during important moments. Like when she’s tricked them into playing Scrabble. 

Eddie tries again. “Steve, what are you talking about? What do you mean you’ve been trying, to… to what? Both? Picked up on—What?!”

Immediately, Steve’s face flushes. “Shit, you really didn’t know? Any of it?”

“I knew about the eating,” Eddie says, and he feels like his voice has gone unusually high but can’t focus enough on that to decide if it’s actually true. “I mean, I knew you seemed okay with it, but you said your meds make you hungrier or something—How like is much, I mean, is like, I mean—” He slaps a hand over his own mouth to stop that runaway train of a sentence before it goes over a cliff any more than it already has, then tries to rephrase. “What do you mean by you like it?”

“Eddie. Have you noticed how often I put my fingers in my mouth when you’re around? Haven’t you heard me through the wall?”

Eddie’s face feels hotter than the sun. “Y-yeah…” He wonders if it’s really possible to die of spontaneous combustion, but confronted directly like this he can’t find it in himself to lie. “You… you touch yourself after you…”

“Eat a lot,” Steve finishes. “It feels good, getting so full like that. I sleep better after, especially if I, uh, come.” He flushes a little at the admission, too, so at least Eddie isn’t completely alone. “I say things sometimes, hoping you’ll hear.”

“I thought I was dreaming most of that,” Eddie admits, which makes Steve perk up a little. 

“You dream about me?”

“I…” Letting out an embarrassed whine, Eddie brings a hand to his hair, dragging a clump of it down over his mouth in a ludicrous attempt to hide. “Shit, yeah. I do. I…” And, okay, if he’s going to admit this he’s not going to do it by halves, because if Steve can just say things that would get him labeled a freak in most circles, then so can Eddie, the official Freak of Hawkins, Indiana. “I listen and I picture what you might be doing in there, and I get off to it, man. I thought I was being a huge creep for doing that, but I couldn’t help it because it’s you, alright? At the risk of making things incredibly weird between us, Steve, I’ve been fucking gone on you for a mortifyingly long time and it’s only ever gotten worse, and I’m pretty sure that you saying any of what you’re saying now means I’ve finally lost my mind and I want you to be my padded cell. I don’t even know what that means, Steve, but I want it.”

Steve tilts his head slightly. “It’s gotten worse? In a bad way?”

“Oh my god,” Eddie groans, and drops his flaming face into his sweaty palms. “It’s gotten bigger. It’s gotten… more. What do you want from m—”

“Eddie,” Steve interrupts, cutting through his Freudian slips like a knife through butter. “Come here.”

When Eddie lifts his head, he sees that Steve is patting the section of couch next to him. Feeling dazed and like this might as well happen, Eddie climbs his feet and ambles around the laden coffee table on rickety Bambi legs. Jesus H Christ, is this what having a stroke feels like?

He sits. Steve lays a hand on his thigh and Eddie feels like it’s leaving a mark straight through the ripped denim. 

“I want to show you something,” Steve says. “Try something, I guess. You can say no, but… I’m hoping you won’t. Because I’ve been thinking about this ever since you started writing things in that stupid journal for me. I want you to feed me cake and ice cream, and when the cake runs out I want you to pour the melted ice cream down my throat. Okay?”

“Should,” Eddie starts, and then has to clear his throat a few times because holy shit, his voice is rough and all the blood in his body just rushed south. “Should we do this on a communal couch, or… your room…?”

Steve’s eyes go hooded and dark, bedroom eyes if Eddie’s ever seen them. The goddamn Harrington Charm. “You wanna see where all the magic happens, baby? Finally get the visual to go with the audio?”

And well, that kind of answers the question of whether Steve was wolfing down leftovers in the kitchen or in bed, doesn’t it?

The next day, Robin gravely thanks them for not doing “hungry penis stuff” on shared furniture, a phrase which they vehemently beg her never to use again with varying degrees of dismayed wailing and hysterical laughter. And then she whacks them both upside their heads with a heartfelt, “Took you long enough, you dingi!”