#this has to be on purpose it's too perfectly aligned

[approximateknowledge]

the seed engine gender situation

(i found a fascinating little tidbit that massively adds to an earlier observation re: the transfem kirito situation)

ok so *about volume 5*

ive already talked about the whole situation with alo having manual character gender choice while later games such as ggo use brainwaves, and the implications this has for character generation

^volume 3 (note the word "chose")

^volume 5 (egg-cracking character generator)

and the fact the avatar from the former got converted to the latter game with the knowledge that the gender was almost certainly a "stuck" variable when the ggo engine got to work on it

^also volume 5

ok so all of this is established stuff ive posted about before

but id go a step further actually, specifically because of a certain little inconsistency i found

ok so, when the guy tries to buy the account for the rare avatar-type, right, there's this exchange

^the sheer reaction here; this avatar type is *extremely* rare

^and then this exchange; but hold on! that doesn't line up with what's said 2 fragments earlier!

and indeed! the account *isn't* 3 years old at all! it's not the sao one, it's the alo one!

^end of volume 4! it's not the original account! its only playtime is the time she played in ALO! it's only a couple months old!

so why the rare as fuck avatar?!

well!

i theorise that the M-9000 type avatar is a failsafe, specifically for converted accounts from manual-gender-choice games that don't align with the brainwaves

it's not a "reward for playtime" at all, its rarity comes from how weirdly specific the generation criteria are

it's an avatar literally *only* transfem eggs from converted accounts get!

it's been right there the whole time hidden between the lines!

^dense fucking egg

[dobbysnotsureaboutthis]

Interrupted

Masterlist

WC: 7.1k approx.

Description:

Alastor's been wondering what all the craze around sexual pleasure is (because of Rosie) and decides to give it a single try. That's when you arrive at the hotel, becoming his assistant; and you're just always interrupting at the worst time. (Written almost entirely from Alastor's perspective)

Warnings:

Light cannibalism, torture, and stuff, NSFW (purely written for smut purposes), unintentional edging, unedited

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“Ah, is that so?”

For the most part, Alastor considered Rosie a dear friend. Her horrific tales of marriage and cannibalism, her excellent management of Cannibal Town, and her all around entertaining manner of speech were all qualities he very much enjoyed. Yet no soul is without its flaws, and Rosie certainly had hers.

“Yes! And then he…” He does his best to tune her out, grimacing at the extreme level of detail his fellow overlord chose to give him about her sex life. “There were these new knives with beautiful handles I’d bought, and they were just the perfect size for his-.”

“Would you look at that! Our waiter friend here has brought your favorite off the menu!”

The waiter listlessly sets down a plate of fingers, all tied up with bows at the end. Rosie coos in delight, thanking him with a wiggle of her fingers.

“Seriously, you’re missing out!”

“I highly doubt there is anything new I will learn from the experience.” He sips his coffee, one eyebrow raised as he listens to his old friend ramble on. 

“Oh Alastor, you can never be too sure if you like something until you try it!” She giggles as she pierces her fork into a piece. Blackened blood oozes from the wound. “I didn’t know I had a liking for cannibalism until I ate my first husband!” 

She hums at the taste, her sharp teeth easily breaking through leathery skin and stubborn ligaments. “And I liked it so much I had the second as well!” 

“I’m sure you had a very enjoyable time.” 

She laughs, noticing the telltale sign of exasperation furrowing his brow. “I was only trying to broaden your horizons. You’ll be in Hell for a long time after all! Who knows? Maybe in one of these centuries you’ll feel compelled to test things out. Don’t think too much of it sweetie.” 

But Alastor did think about it. Unwillingly, of course. Nonetheless, the thought nagged at the back of his mind as he bid Rosie farewell, heading off to his usual stop at the butcher shop. He thought of it as the butcher plodded to the back of the shop, retrieving for him the whole carcass of a deer. Could the flesh of another, moving creature be just as delectable as a dead rack of venison?

He thought of it as he grinned his way into the hotel, half-heartedly entertaining Charlie and the others just enough that they wouldn’t bother him further. He let his gaze momentarily land on each of the hotel residents; could he even imagine the thought of laying with any of them? He feels his stomach curdle in disgust as Angel Dust shoots him one of his looks. That spider doesn’t know what he’s thinking, does he? No, of course not. He’s way beneath the caliber of mind reading.

Any person, any body on top of him would simply feel wrong. No, Alastor decided. Surely, his good friend must be exaggerating the pleasure. 

Yet still, the thought simply wouldn’t leave him as he sliced through the sinews of his venison, closing his eyes in satisfaction at the gamey, lean taste. As custom, his butcher had prepared the meat just right; so that the texture was firm yet tender, rather than resistant and too chewy from its muscle fibers. Was it possible that the pleasures of the flesh could be just as addicting as the pleasure of consuming it? 

He polishes off the last bit of meat clinging to the bone, tucking in his chair so it aligns perfectly with the edge of the table. Nevermind all that, he has a radio show to host! He adjusts his bow, humming what the people of today would consider an old-timey tune as he makes his way to his radio tower. 

On tonight’s broadcast he had prepared a last minute catch to torture, some mid-level overlord who attacked the hotel in the middle of the night. Charlie might nag him about it later, but what Charlie doesn’t know won’t hurt her. He takes a seat, flipping through the script. Announcements, jazz, a brief segment on the meat market in Hell, and of course the most infamous part of his show - broadcasting the screams of said angry demon in the far corner of his tower, bound by the power of his chains. 

“Sinners, I hope you’ve prepared your ears for a feast!” 

The overlord’s body is resisting, tossing and turning helplessly in his hold. It’s exhilarating, the feeling of control pulsing through his veins. Delicious, the way its face contorted further until it was no longer even vaguely humanoid in appearance. Mesmerizing, as he skinned its identity in one loud tear; from forehead to chin, the overlord was no more. A meaningless black hole where its mouth once sat opens in an ear-shattering scream. He feels the noise reverberate pleasantly through his spine, echoes of its cries spreading in waves across Hell from his radio tower. 

He stretches his back, then, lengthening bones making pops and snaps as they release from their prison of sinews and tendons, until he loomed over the fallen demon who pathetically clawed for an exit as though it still had a chance of escaping. He lets him crawl a miserly few feet, before easily snatching him up with one long arm, savoring the absolute forced submission in the other demon’s blood-drowned eyes.  

“A reminder to all the misbehaving, insolent souls of Hell…”

He unhinges his jaw till it’s as large as the sinner’s head, then bites it off, removing the screaming machine right off its neck. Its hair is a nasty texture on his throat, though he ignores the mild inconvenience for the incomparable satisfaction of the rush of raw power. The studio is quiet now, save for the sounds of thick, tainted blood sliding down his elongated throat, and the soft gulps as he swallowed. 

He licks his lips, which is coated with the putrid blood of that demon - ah, there’s nothing that quite hits the spot like the bitter taste of total conquest. 

“...not to cross paths with the Radio demon.” 

He laughs as he ends the broadcast, cleaning up the rest of the body by obscuring it in flames and letting it wither. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the taste of sinner meat unlike his dear friend Rosie; once the body becomes inanimate, unable to scream or shake in terror, it’s simply a slab of meat the same as any other. And he far prefers the bite of fresh venison. 

His body slowly compresses itself, returning to the usual form he enjoyed. But his blood still pulsed quickly, and his face was still flushed from the euphoria of domination. His ears twitch once, twice as he feels strangely stuck on the feeling.

That irritating worm of a thought creeps in yet again, reminding him this morning’s unsettling conversation. Missing out? It itched at him, the thought that he has yet to experience this aspect of hedonism. He seats himself at his station, blood-crusted nails tapping on his knee. 

He could give it a try. That’s what he did with television, after all. Twenty years after he landed in Hell and that imbecile Vox started rising in power - well, they were friends at the time - he had entertained the idea of video, if only in the privacy of his back then radio station. And after a mere week with the device, he had decided that radio still was the best and most refined medium. 

Hmmm. 

He sinks into the shadows, tapping his fingers on his cane as he makes his way toward his room. He stretches his grin to scare Angel Dust, who he crossed in the halls; delighted, as he grimaces in disgust at the sight. 

Although, he muses, he can hardly bear to think of sleeping with any of the demons surrounding him. The door shuts, and he finds himself seated on his bed, restless fingers never stopping their erratic tapping. 

Perhaps, he can test things out by himself first. Only if things go well will he entertain another. 

And that’s how Alastor finds his fingers slipping beneath the band of his pants, sending his shadow to guard the outside of his door. Who knows which one of those pesky fiends would come knocking for some ridiculous problem? 

He snakes a hand around the length of his member, internally grimacing at the intimacy of the action. It wasn’t as though he’s never touched himself before; but rather that the last time had been… more than a century ago by now? 

That’s right, he thinks, awkwardly maneuvering his hand up and down. He recalls the more foolish early days of his life, when he was in his teens and sex was all the craze amongst his peers. The one thing that actually should’ve changed with time, yet only grew worse.

He had found the activity disinteresting back then, much like he does now, observing the ripples across the swamp in his room as he rhythmically moves his hand. Up and down, up and down. 

He tries to summon back the adrenaline he experienced while torturing the demon, but it was slowly fading away, each stroke of his arm cooling down the pulse further. The skin on his palm was growing tired of brushing over the same crooked vein, his cock not hardening nearly enough to penetrate another’s innards. He redirects his attention toward the activity. The best he gets is a slight twitch, his member half-erect only from the arousal of torture half an hour prior, and the repeated stimulation from his hand. 

This is what people get all excited over? How laughable, really. Not that he was so surprised, considering how pitiful many of them were already, even without their questionable choice of pastime. 

He gives his arm a rest, squeezing at the base of his cock then languidly moving his fingers upward until he comes to a stop at the tip. A modest smear of precum peeks from the opening, and he watches the viscous fluid gather into a bead, which he spreads over the head of his cock with his thumb. The miniscule feeling is growing into a low-level buzz in his gut, like an itch he can’t be bothered to scratch. 

One time, he reminds himself. That means finishing the whole experience. He resumes the motion, but before he could get back into it…

“Alastor?” His eyes, which have started to shut from concentration, snap open at the sound of Charlie’s excitable voice at the door.

Now, of all times! It’s a good thing he sent his shadow to guard the door. He sighs, tucking his half-hard member back into the confines of his slacks and picking up his cane - with his other hand, of course. He swings the door open, his smile gleaming and wide as always. 

“What is it now, Charlie?” 

The blonde squeals, her hands clapping together quickly before she flourishes them toward you. “We have a new guest!” 

He notices you then, a tiny thing beside Charlie, eyes shining just as bright if not more than the princess. He could already tell, without you even speaking a word, how bothersome you were likely to be. How wonderful. 

But the show must go on, and his smile grows even wider, fixing his stare on you in the hopes of making a fearsome first impression. “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, dear!” 

You don’t flinch at all; instead, you lean in to match his smile, enthusiastically shaking his hand with glee - the hand that he used to do… that, he realizes in dread. No matter how much of a nuisance you were going to be, this was absolutely inappropriate to do to a lady, nevertheless, one he’d just met. But of course, you don’t know that. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Alastor! I’m so excited to work here at the hotel! I can tell we’re going to be good friends already!” 

“Mmmhmm, I have no doubt you’re correct.”

The subtle flair of sarcasm is immediately lost on both you and Charlie, and the two of you squeal simultaneously.

“Best friends!” Charlie cheers, holding your hand in one and his in the other. 

“The bestest!” You giggle, leaning your head affectionately on her shoulder.

He strains his smile. “Now then, aside from the friendly introductions, I assume there is something you require from me?” He directs his attention to Charlie, whose eye suddenly sparks up as though remembering something. 

“Oh yes!” She clutches onto your shoulders, presenting you to him. “Our new guest here is looking for a job! She’s brand new in Hell and found out that you don’t just get to stop working after death, unfortunately. So she came to our hotel from that brilliant ad you made, and we were brainstorming what sorts of jobs she could take here.”

“You… just got here, and your first reaction is excitement?” That… is interesting, although it’s an avenue to be explored another time. 

Your eyes sparkle at what you likely presumed to be his interest. “I’ve always known that I was going to Hell anyway! I just didn’t know it would be so cool!” 

Charlie swoons at that, taking your hands in hers. “Oh we are just going to have the best time together I already know! I should take you to Lulu World, I used to go on the rides there with my dad all the time!” 

“There’s. An. Amusement park??”

He increases the sound of his static until the two of you finally notice him. “As you lovely ladies were saying?” 

“Right! We were thinking…” Charlie wiggles her eyebrows at you, which you catch and reply with one of your own. 

“...That I could be your assistant!” 

All the static stops. “I beg your pardon?” 

“Your assistant! Charlie was telling me about how you do so much for the hotel, that it’d be better if you had somebody helping you!” 

His grin remains frozen on his face, radio-dialed eyes boring straight into yours, which never seemed to dull no matter what they were looking at. Weren’t you afraid of him in the slightest? It’s almost insulting, how you approached him so fearlessly. Perhaps it’s only because you’re new to Hell. That thought relaxes him slightly, his mind churning in delight at the picture of you a few weeks from now, much more tame as you’ve learned to stay in your lane. 

“I do not require any assistance-.” 

Charlie’s face instantly falls.

“...But, I suppose, if no other career option in the hotel is available, I will take you as my assistant.” 

“Great! Awesome! Thank you so much, Alastor!” Her face lights up so quickly that he rolls his eyes; that girl was such an open book that it hurts to look at sometimes. 

Then there’s a figure colliding into his chest, as two arms wrap around his back. “I’m so, so glad!” Your girlish voice is too loud for his sensitive ears this close, and though it takes him a moment to react, when he finally does, he hisses, flattening his ears as he pulls away instinctively. 

“Do not step out of your boundaries, my dear.” 

To your credit, you do pull away quickly; but the same unbeatable optimism still shone in your eyes, as though you didn’t take his word as a threat at all. 

“I’m sorry!” You didn’t look nearly enough sorry. “So when are we gonna get started? I hear you work in a radio tower! Oooh that sounds so fun! But I wouldn’t mind getting started on the rest of the tasks you do around the hotel either, I’m sure there’s a lot!” 

Alastor bites back another loathing groan, the corners of his normally well-practiced grin threatening to fall. He could only hope your initial excitement would wear off within a few days.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alastor, do I put in the eggs or the bacon first?” 

…It’s gotten worse. 

“Cook the bacon first, then the eggs in the leftover grease.” 

“Got it!” You zoom off, hurrying as you move to do just as he says. 

He sighs, taking the opportunity to direct his attention back to the script he was working on; but he knew it wouldn’t be long until you once again appear in front of his vision, free to help again.

He was used to dealing with irritating personalities as a public figure, but none had been as bad as this; because the difference was, that he could eventually get away from them. You, however… he didn’t quite hate you. Aside from being a naturally excitable person, you were pleasant and helpful enough. The issue was that you were too helpful. You were always around to help, finishing every meaningless task he threw your way in mere minutes. And once you finished, you would come back for more. 

Goodness, he’s never seen someone this hardworking! You worked as though you were a single mother of five fighting for a living, rather than a childless soul free to spend the bare minimum effort for the rest of your afterlife. Even at night, there was no rest! When you found out that he preferred his nights sleepless, you were eager to copy him, insisting that you had never enjoyed sleeping; it was only for the sake of living that you did so. And while it was true that he had grown used to the nights awake, your persistent presence was starting to make him tired enough to long for rest. 

The sound of the kitchen sink turning off catches his attention. His ears flick in your direction, listening for the telltale sign of your scampering feet. 

And sure enough, a few moments later, you’re here. “Breakfast is ready and served!” 

To his surprise, you actually sit yourself down on the couch next to him. You? Taking a rest? Well, it should preferably be farther away from him, but at least he wouldn’t have to do the whole act of sending you off for a task, and then waiting in dreaded anticipation for the timer to end, bringing you to him like clockwork.

“That’s wonderful, dear. Good job!” He takes a sip from his “Oh deer!” mug. “Say, you’ve been working very hard all week; does the idea of a day off entice you at all?”

You shake your head, swinging your feet below the edge of the couch. “Nah, I’m good. It’s been so fun working with you I hardly felt it was work at all!” 

“I see.” Another sip.

This wasn’t going to do. You see, there was yet another unexpected issue your constant presence brought. That little… experiment of his. He had no room to finish the experience, simply because you were always there! He supposed that he could give it up altogether. After all, he was never interested in the first place. 

But then he would also never get to check off that irksome box. He had to find some way to finish, if only just to call it a day. If you weren’t going to take the day off, then… he was just going to have to find some way to keep you busy for long enough. But what was there for you to do? There are certain parts of his workload that he simply can’t have you touching. His radio equipment, for one. You wouldn’t be going anywhere near that. Which does reduce his options by a lot. 

Perhaps he could have you assist Husker? Or-. His grin sharpens. Or! Ah, what a great idea! 

“…Alastor?” You question. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, yes, of course I’m here silly, I'm right in front of you!” 

“Oh, good. Because I thou-.” 

“My dear, I’ve suddenly thought of a task I need your assistance for!” 

“Oooooh what is it?” You perk up, back straightening as you bunch your hands in anticipation. “Is it gonna be more cooking? Sweeping? Walking back and forth in the hallways a hundred times while counting my fingers? You never did tell me what that was for, by the way.” 

“Not at all! I think it’s about time I request you do something more… difficult. Something more time consuming that I didn’t think you were ready for until now.” He stands up, guiding you by your shoulders to the bar. “-Niffty!” 

“Aw, yes, I love her! What about her though?” 

“Wonderful! Then I believe you’ll be perfectly suited to the task of entertaining her.” He snaps his fingers, drawing the one-eyed cyclops to him. “Niffty dear, why don’t you show her the bugs you’ve got there?” 

He grins even wider when you visibly cringe at the bugs, that being the first negative reaction you’ve shown since arriving at the hotel. He watches for only a few more moments before turning his back, knowing that he could leave the rest to the little cyclops. 

Now, to take advantage of the time he’s earned for himself. His steps are oddly eager for a mediocre activity, his rush to close his bedroom door out of the norm. Once again, he has his shadow watch over the outside, as he sits himself on the edge of his bed, shifting the band of his pants over his hips. 

He feels the itch come back, subtle and buzzing like a pesky mosquito, as though he were picking up at exactly the same level of arousal as where he last left off.

 Good, that should save him some time. His fingers wrap around his half-hardened cock, giving it a squeeze to tease the light pulse at his tip. The itch soothes as he works his hand down his shaft, causing him to breathe a small sigh of relief. He slowly quickened his pace, his cock becoming stiffer as his movements sent more blood to engorge it, flushing his tip with a pretty red shade. He has to admit that the feeling was becoming pleasurable. Although he has no need for such a thing when killing works just as well to get his adrenaline racing.

Surely, doing it with another would have little difference. He feels his jaw clench, grin tugging at the edges as he quickens his hand further, determined to get his high over with as fast as possible so that life could continue. 

The tightening of his abdominal muscles as he neared a climax wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to him; despite having an inactive sexual life, the thrill of a good kill was sometimes intense enough that arousal would stiffen his cock similarly to how he was now. Yet the unbearable growl in his stomach, and the almost painful sudden swelling of saliva in his mouth, always overpowered the feeling from below, leading him to satisfy that carnal desire with the consumption of another, from the irreplaceable feeling of control beneath his fingertips as his victims screamed with the regret of crossing him. 

A slight sheen of sweat gathers above his brow as he feels unpracticed muscles prepare his orgasm, stroking faster until-.

Three sharp knocks ring on his door. “Alastor? I’m back! Are you in there?” 

He has never directed the fury he currently felt toward any woman; but you were coming close to being the first. He had half the mind to just… continue, let you wait outside. But that would only work if you were literally any other person. Knowing you, you would just persistently call for him until he answered, and that would definitely disrupt his concentration on achieving his climax. He reluctantly tucks his still twitching cock back into his slacks, fumbling around as he struggles to conceal the bulge protruding there. He fixes the lapels on his coat.

“...Hello, my dear. Back so soon?”

You sheepishly look at your toes. “Yeah. Sorry if I was bothering you-.” Hmmm. Some self-awareness for once. Perhaps you could be trained. “-but Niffty got distracted in the middle of showing me her bugs. She’s by herself now, smacking her head with a broom. Is she going to be alright? I mean, you’re kind of like her boss right?” 

“I own her soul. And yes, she will be alright as she always is. Funny! I expected you to last longer with her, given how popular you’ve become amongst the residents of this hotel. Was that all, or was there something more important you came to bother me for?” 

“Yeah the thing is, I’m not that good with bugs so I couldn’t keep her entertained.” You seem to be entirely unaware of his jab, as your face brightens again. “I came to ask for another task! Aside from the bugs thing, I can pretty much do anything else! In fact, I can work all day if you need me to.” 

Known weaknesses - bugs. He’ll store that in his mind for future use. “I’m well aware of your work ethic! You… just seem to never run out of energy.” 

You beam, taking his words as a compliment. “Yup!” 

“...But I may not always be ready with a task for you. With that in mind, why don’t you check up on the other residents? I recall you taking quite the liking to our dear princess of the hotel.” 

Your face falls. Oh, if you cry at this moment, he will have truly hit his last nerve. Unexpectedly, his cock, which still sat uncomfortably hard in his pants, stirs at the thought of your teary face; sobbing as you begged for his forgiveness for being such a nuisance. He pushes that thought away. 

“I do want to spend time with Charlie, but she’s in the middle of figuring something out with her dad. And Angel Dust is always at his job, Husk doesn’t talk much, and you know Niffty…” You stop as you count to your fourth finger. “...And that’s everyone in the hotel.” 

“And what about simply spending time by yourself? You must have passions you enjoy outside of working.” 

With that, your face falls even further, your pupils downcast, lashes lowered. Must you play this act with him? “I used to, when I was alive. But I just… can’t find the point of doing so anymore after death.”

For a moment, he thinks that he’s hit a weak spot. Then you recover in record time, rubbing your hands together with an animated smile. “Because there are just so many other things to do in Hell! I want to take in everything this place has to offer!” 

And how could he turn down such a brilliant display of optimism? It would be one thing if you had broken down, weeping some sob story about not wishing to be left alone. Then he could easily spin some excuse to cast you aside, preferably forever. It was another, to have you insist with genuine excitement, how you enjoyed working for him. In this case, you would be the one in control if he were to turn you down; that would be a display of weakness from him, not you. 

It could be worse. You could be the horribly unhelpful variety on top of your constant proximity. As for his little experiment… he would just have to find a way to carry it out in the little time you were away from him. Thinking, plotting deliberately long tasks that you managed to solve in a quarter of the time he planned for you. He even trusted you with the tasks he wouldn’t let you touch at first; fine, you could touch his stuff, edit his scripts (not that he would use your edits), clean whatever! Anything to keep you busy for long enough!

And so it goes; every time his wrists moved faster, nearing that ever-unreachable climax, you were there, knocking at his door. It came to the point where his expectancy of your arrival made it even more difficult to achieve his orgasm; the thought of your interruption restrained the frustrating throb of his cock to constant level of almost-there but never-finished. 

It was beyond vexing! Every time, he came closer to the idea of ending you. Though it would be uncharacteristic, given you didn’t fit his usual demographic; that might also come with its benefits, as it would be easier to blame your sudden disappearance as a… happy accident. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Whereas he usually anticipates the feeling of victory after killing, he couldn’t help but feel like killing you meant he was losing. That it was evidence your overwhelming good cheer had finally gotten to him, and killing, in this case, means his surrender to your attack. 

Not to add that despite his recent contemplation, he really has never thought of killing a woman. It was not out of some strange moral construct, but rather the self-important disgust at the thought of becoming as pathetic as the demons he normally enjoyed obliterating. No, he wasn’t going to stoop to such a level.

So he holds on, letting your interruptions continue, figuring that one day he had to be desperate enough that his orgasm would come quicker, before you could knock at his door. Yet no matter how aroused he was, no matter how painfully strong the urge to release; he could never finish the race before you got there. 

Subtle jabs and hints flew past you. Direct expulsion would mean his loss. Threatening you never worked, and you always seemed to be strangely calm as you swung your legs back and forth, watching with utter ease his show of tearing apart his captured souls. In fact, to his incomprehension, that seemed to be the part of his day you were the most neutral about; happily humming along to the jazz he played, eyes casually fixated on his cannibalism the same way eyes normally stare at a mediocre TV show - unbothered, neither interested not repulsed. 

Just what did you do to get into Hell? 

He can feel the precum pressing uncomfortably, his pants pushing against the over-sensitive tip of his cock as he listened to you ramble on about how you didn’t mean to bother him, but you had questions about how to work certain equipment in his studio. His ears are flat, eyes narrowed as his grin threatens to actually fall. But no, he had to endure it all as he pretends to be wholly unaffected, patiently (albeit with an extra edge of snark in his voice) explaining to you the mechanics. 

“I would’ve never imagined handling radio equipment in my afterlife! I was a teacher when I was alive, you know.”

A teacher? Interesting, that was the first piece of information he had gathered about your life. Though he couldn’t imagine what kind of school would allow you near their children, especially with his knowledge now that you’ve ended up in Hell. Or perhaps, your upbeat attitude was exactly what they were looking for. 

His stream of thought is cut off by your happy humming, bending over his desk as you poke around his equipment. Unfortunately, he finds his eyes lingering on the curve of your butt, the edge of your panties peeking innocently at him from under the atrociously short hem of your skirt - were the modern people so comfortable with walking around nearly nude? It wasn’t that he found the side of your rear particularly enticing, nor was he attracted to the mere appearance of someone’s privates; but he found himself wondering, fantasizing, of how easy it would be to restrain you against his desk and take you there. How easy it would be to get this over with.

His cock strains tightly against the fabric of his pants, reminding him of his predicament. He grits his teeth, pulling at his hair in a rare display of regret, and desperation. Why did he ever take on such a ridiculous experiment? He prided himself on his composure and unbreakable self-control, yet the very sensation of his length throbbing for a release, and the uncomfortable persistent ache in his cock as he went about his day; a sensation that was usually entirely dormant, bothered him so greatly he felt he might go insane if he didn't finally climax.

He was no stranger to the idea that desperation was the root cause of many bad decisions; he just never thought that he, of all people, would fall prey to it one day. 

He thinks he must’ve lost his mind a few days later as he lets your knocks continue on his unlocked door, one hand pumping at his angry red cock. This was supposed to be the original experiment anyway, he tries to rationalize. He’s beyond caring about the consequences. One time only, he reminds himself, teeth gnashing together as he lowers his boundaries at a snail's pace, for the first time letting your voice infiltrate his activities, even fuel them. 

“Alastor…? I’m done cleaning your desk. What can I do next?” 

You quiet down. Then you speak up again, hesitantly, as though you somehow also knew you would be crossing an unspoken boundary if you were to twist the doorknob. “Alastor, if you're ok with it, I’m coming in.”

Wonderful. He can’t wait to see the pained look on your face as he fucked your womb, forcibly erasing that unshakeable mask of optimism you wore; replacing it with apology, regret, and subservience. 

Then you speak up again. “Actually, I better not. I don’t know if you’re in there but if you are, come find me when you’re done with whatever you’re doing alright?” 

He stops his movement, a feeling of absurdity taking over his mind. No! Absolutely not! Well, it was what he wanted all along, but not when he had already prepared himself to accept the feeling of your hole clenching deliciously over his cock, not when he could finally 

Against his will, he calls out for you. “You may come in if you wish, my dear. The door is unlocked.” 

He hears your footsteps stop again, unsure and slow. Were you already aware of what was going on behind the walls? “Oh ok. Only if you’re sure though.” 

What happened to your lack of respect for his boundaries? He rolls his eyes at the door, impatiently waiting for you to crack it open, waiting to see your reaction as you see the depraved motion of his hand now moving languidly across the length. What shameful look would cross your face?

“I’m coming in!” The door opens. 

If he wasn’t so against the technology, he would’ve wished to capture your expression with a camera; your smile drops, eyes widening as you stood there absolutely frozen, always-running mouth still for once as you look between his face and hand, brain short circuiting at the sight of him. It was rewarding in a near mouthwatering way, to see you finally react the way he wanted you to. He feels superior, the way he was always meant to, as he sits perched on his bed grinning, never stopping the motion of his hand as he watches your face start to take on a red hue. 

…That satisfaction doesn’t last long though, as you seem to regain your composure, the only hint of your prior expression being the flush on your cheeks. He’s taken aback as you yet again regain your usual beam, albeit a bit more bashfully. 

“Is this a new type of task for me?” 

…Oh, fuck it. He extends one of his tendrils to slam the open door, eyes glowering as he collects you by the waist with another. Up close, he sees your bravado waver; your eyes glued to the now furious red head of his cock, which rubs against your stomach as you land on his lap. 

“My dear assistant, do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused the last couple of weeks?” 

He wasn’t going to let you respond, but in yet another turn of events, you press yourself closer to his throbbing cock, coyly smiling up at him through your lashes. “Have I? Well I can always assist with the trouble I caused.” 

At any other time, he would’ve jumped on the opportunity to dig deeper into your motivation; but right now, he’s beyond caring to decipher your intention. All he wants is to sink his cock into your waiting hole, which warmed his length teasingly through only the thin separation of your underwear. 

He digs his hands into the sides of your hips, the sharpness of his teeth glistening from the low light in his room. “I’m afraid your assistance isn’t needed at the moment.” 

Your brows raise in confusion, temporarily caught off guard by his statement. “What-.” 

Before you could finish your sentence, he’s torn off your panties with a skilled claw, grin straining as he prods the tip of his cock into your already wet folds. Were you waiting for this? The thought, which should irritate him, only intensifies the guttural desire to ruin you. You let out a breathless squeak as he pushes his cock into your walls in one go. He feels blood collecting between his teeth where he bit himself to stop the utterly humiliating sound of relief that would otherwise fall out. You, on the other hand, gasp for air as you attempt to adjust to the shock of his intrusion. 

He presses your body into his pristinely folded sheets, grin straining as your back collides with the headboard, the jolt of the motion rocking your pussy flush against the base of his cock, where your clit smacks wetly against his abdomen. 

“You can just watch me do my job.” 

He does one experimental thrust, feasting on the sight of your head throwing back as he hits that spongy spot inside you, licking up the gratifying sounds of your cries. He pins your arms to the headboard as he pulls back, then thrusts again. Oh… this does feel phenomenal. 

If only for the pure fact that he had been denied his release since you’ve made your entrance, he could barely think as he picked up the pace, moving his hips back then slamming them forward in the way he’s only heard of until now. You moan with every thrust of his hips, the pathetic little sound vibrating from the vigor of his movements. 

He realizes, mortifyingly, that he can already feel his orgasm approaching. That isn’t supposed to happen this fast, is it? It certainly never was that way the few times (well, recently many times) he experimented with his own hand; but the moist, gummy heat of your walls seemed to coax his length, beckoning him to release and paint them white. 

He grits his teeth, refusing to give in. Were things always destined to end this way? So that no matter which way he took things, you would be the one to win? 

He speeds up his pace then, mind attempting to focus on anything but the depraved ache of his pent-up cock, balls tight with a torrent of cum, despite how his release was the only thing that the animal part of his brain craved. If this was your plan all along - no, even if you were unaware and it was simply your nature to be devious - he’ll ensure that he at least makes you come first, make you fall apart on his cock before he ejaculates. 

Your eyes are hazy, bottom lip caught succulently between your top row of teeth, as your back arched up so your nipples would graze his suit each time he sunk into your deepest spot. By the looks of your trembling thighs and quickening breath, it wouldn’t be long until you cum, his wanting brain reasons. 

He has one knee digging into the bedsheets, his other leg working to powerfully ram into you; and he tightens his own muscles, willing himself to contain his long-awaited release. 

“Alastor! A-A-lastor!” You call out his name, and he feels a surge of satisfaction rushing through him; your submission like a hefty meal that feeds straight to his starving gut. 

Then your eyes roll back, stilling as your walls convulse rhythmically around his cock. His nails rip into the bedsheets, prepared to resist this climax, wanting to wait until he fucked you into a second orgasm. 

But your unpredictable little mind has other plans, and as you suddenly bite down on his shoulder, teeth sinking all the way into the muscle there; he groans in surprise, the first noise he’s let escape during the whole session, cock twitching as it releases his sperm in lengthy ropes against his will. 

Your sweaty face is smug, smiling up at him as you playfully flick at his hair. He forces himself to recover, the irritation crawling back into his heart twofold. 

He’s going to fuck that look right off your audacious face.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It was amazing! I simply didn’t know one could do such a thing with a rope! Especially with how tight-.” 

Alastor nods, tuning out and sipping his coffee as Rosie droned on about her latest escapade. It seems she’s found yet another man to toy with; and although he wasn’t particularly interested in this story, he was looking forward to her inevitable follow up on disemboweling him. 

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes! It’s important to prepare your meat well, as in the case of any dish. But sinner meat requires a different type of preparation. It’s unfortunate that you’ll never know the taste.” She giggles, stirring her cup of tea. 

“I might’ve taken a sample since the last time we spoke.” 

Her eyes light up in recognition, excitedly leaning forward in her seat. “You have! And tell me, how did it go! Was it everything you hoped for?”

He sets down his mug. Was it all that great? Well he supposed that while it wasn’t anything near the surge of primal power murder gave him, he certainly didn’t dislike it. 

He certainly hasn’t minded the new change to his routine; when sometimes, after a broadcasting session where his adrenaline is rushing particularly high, after he solves the growling of his stomach, he also tends to the ache of his cock by fucking your womb. As usual, you didn’t mind providing him with your assistance, pliantly spreading your thighs on his table whenever you recognized the look of raw hunger in his eyes, that look of hunger that differed from his usual craving for meat. The craving of flesh. 

But he hasn’t turned into some… lustful creature. He merely gave an unventured avenue a try, and it turned out to be more pleasurable than he expected. 

He widens his grin, static buzzing with threat as a warning to her not to question further, and Rosie takes the hint, smiling knowingly as she backs down. 

“It was alright.” 

.

.

.

A/N: It's up to you whether the reader did it on purpose LOL. Anywho definitely don't be expecting me to always post this often, this week I went through some weird writing craze. I have no idea when I'll post next but when I do it'll probably be a series (we'll see how that goes) cuz I want to try long-form writing (oooooo intimidating). I wrote this fic cuz I've heard that the way serial killers choose their victims is closely related to who they're sexually attracted to. & cannibalism is often used as a metaphor for love. And I thought that it was so interesting Alastor is this cannibalistic serial killer who's also asexual! I speculate that the adrenaline rush they get from killing might somewhat mimic arousal. And I thought that might be true for Alastor as well, he just doesn't project those feelings onto another person cuz he's asexual... BUT WHAT IF HE DID? Well, I wrote a fic to find out and thought Tumblr might like it lol. Not that I'd know about how all that feels cuz despite my amazing wonderful extremely realistic writing skills it might surprise you that I've never killed anyone or done a sex... My author notes are more like author short essays (that's why I put them at the end)

Taglist:

@angeldustharmony, @littlebluefishtail, @cryssyd, @reath-solia, @speedycoffeedelight, @mo-0-o Comment below if you wanna be added!

[angelofsmalldeaath]

Could you write anything about Andrew in his blue jeans. They got my going feral, absolutely loosing my shit

a/n: the blue jeans aren't heavily mentioned but i think they still do play an important part

cw: andrew having a dire desperate crush, very slightly suggestive

it’s thirty minutes until he’s supposed to be on stage. 

he’s in a city he’s played in multiple times, he knows the setlist from back to front, and he’s already thinking about what twists he can put on the songs tonight. the backstage is pretty crowded and bustling; his drummer sits on a chair, idly drumming away to whatever’s playing in his ears at the moment. his bassist has a laugh, chatting with some of the backing singers, a cigarette in one hand.  

he sits and watches. 

he knows she’s far too busy running around from one person to the next, making sure everything is perfect and ready to go. her staff lanyard swishes back and forth every time she dashes past him, and his heart squeezes every time she throws a casual smile at someone else.

“you’re running around like a headless chicken,” he calls out as soon as she’s within earshot. 

she staggers to a stop, looks at him with a raised eyebrow, “yeah, well,” she shrugs, “i have a million last-minute things to look at.”

he knows it’s literally her job, but in this moment, all he wants is for her to sit next to him (better yet, for her to sit in his lap) and just talk to him. about anything and everything. but then a small smile blooms on her face and his heart skips a beat. 

“your pins are all wonky,” she laughs a little and gestures for him to stand up.

it’s become a bit of a habit for him now, wearing the pins crooked by just the slightest. it happened a few months ago on accident when he was rushing, but then he saw how it irked her and how she was dying to fix it. how close they both stood while her fingers worked deftly at aligning them.  

and so now he does it on purpose, wears them just crooked enough to irk her so she would come over and fix them for him. but he has to be careful enough not to do it every time. and on days he wears them perfectly, he constantly dreams about what it would be like to have her hands still brushing against his chest.

“blue jeans today?” she quirks an eyebrow, looking him up and down.

“oh, you know all about my fashion choices, do you?” he teases, trying to compensate for how breathless he feels. a faint scent of jasmine washes over him—her shampoo or her body lotion, he doesn’t know—but his mind has started associating the scent with her and her alone. 

“no…” she trails off, looking at him a little sternly, and he worries a bit that he’s teased at the wrong time.

she was clearly running around, busy with other things backstage and now he’s sprung an additional task on her. he’s worried that he’s come across as a petulant rockstar who needs assistance for as simple a task as this. 

“they look nice on you. better than the black,” she bites her lip to stop herself from smiling and his brain short circuits. 

for one, she’s just teased back, even if it was barely anything. and now all he can think about is biting her lip while holding her in his arms. 

the height difference between them means that every time she looks up at him, it’s through her eyelashes. his lips part slightly, like he can’t get enough air into his lungs. and he can’t; he can’t just go around burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply. so he has to collect little bits and pieces of her whenever he can and store them like stolen candy. 

“there,” she says once she’s done and gives him a little pat on his chest, “now you look all handsome again.”

him. handsome. she thinks he looks handsome. he’s sure he has the stupidest, silliest grin on his face.

“oh god, don’t smile at me like that,” she blurts out. it’s rushed, almost a whisper, almost like it wasn’t supposed to be said out loud, but her eyes widen. and she looks away in an instant.

“why?” he feigns arrogance, seamlessly slipping into the confident artist his fans meet, “does my devastatingly handsome smile make you go crazy?”

she rolls her eyes but doesn't take a step back. she doesn't even move her hands from his chest. which is a bit of a problem because his heart is racing. 

“you okay?” she asks and he watches her brows furrow in concern. 

shit. shit. shit. he has to think on his feet, and the only thing he can’t do right now is focus! 

“just nervous about the show?”

it comes out more like a question, and he wants to kick himself for telling such an obvious lie. she knows he has played here like four times before. she knows he has everything rehearsed and ready to go, and whatever amount of nerves he might feel, they’re nowhere near enough to make his chest pound like this. 

she gives him a sceptical look and opens her mouth, about to say something, but someone calls her name. both their gazes snap to see another person on the staff, clipboard in hand, feet tapping impatiently. he feels an instant annoyance because how dare they look at her with anything other than adoration, but then his gaze snaps back to her. 

“i gotta go,” she gives him a small smile. “but good luck out there, you’ll be fantastic.”

he nods absently, like a pathetic idiot. 

“and,” she grins “wear that blue jeans more, will you? it really does look gorgeous on you.” before he knows what’s happening, she stands on her toes and presses a tiny kiss on his cheek. and just like that, she’s gone, running around the set once again. 

in a daze, his fingers come up to lightly touch his cheek. multiple neurons in his body are misfiring, and he feels a bit like he’s about to fall off a cliff. 

he wonders if he should follow her and kiss her hard enough that he will taste her for days. he wonders if she tastes like the cherry lip gloss she uses. then he worries that she’s just a friendly, affectionate person. and finally, he burns with envy that someone out there might be getting a real, proper good-luck kiss from her. 

“alright, mate?” his bassist appears, finally back from a cigarette break, and he has to stop himself from unloading everything on him. 

it’s ten minutes until he’s supposed to be on stage.

and now all he can think about is his blue jeans on her bedroom floor and cherry-flavoured lips. 

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

!"are we still friends?" kiss w/ inumaki!

prompt// heartbeat getting faster with every passing second, their hands on your waist, one coming up to your jaw, whispering your name softly, before just going for it. coming absolutely undone as your hand reaches to tug on their hair (prompt from @jasminesfury)

pairing// toge inumaki x gn!reader

word count// 1.8k

contents// jujutsu high is a college, inumaki communicates through sticky notes, inumaki uses his cursed technique to get what he wants, ooc inumaki ?

notes// these kissing prompts r too good not to use sorry not sorry! also yes him using his cursed technique was inspired by that one anon... also any information i say about a character's likes? or like favorite food, i get from jjk fandom wiki dont come for me if its not right ok baiiii <3

You and Inumaki are best friends— or were. Right now, he’s not quite sure where the two of you stand considering how you’ve been acting towards him lately. He and, quite frankly, anyone with eyes could see how uninterested you were acting toward him. You avoided his touch, kept conversations short, avoided eye contact, hell, you tried to avoid him all together—you were ignoring him. It wasn’t like you were doing it on purpose, though! …Okay, you definitely were, but you also definitely had a good reason to. The whole reason this started was because of last week.

You and Inumaki are best friends; you’d obviously take any chance you could to hang out with him, and you thought that was the only reason why—because he’s your best friend—but that day you quickly learned that was not the case. You and Inumaki sat under a tree in a random park. When the weather was nice and your schedules aligned, the two of you would often have picnics together. On these picnics, you two had this unspoken agreement of bringing each other food; he’d bring you what you liked or what he thought you’d like, and you’d do the same for him. You watch him intently as he places all the food he got for you near you, and you smile when he’s finished and is staring at you patiently, waiting for you to do the same.

You ignore his gaze and what he wants, instead tilting your head at him and asking, “What’s your favorite food?”

Inumaki’s face drops, and a pout replaces his previous faint smile as he pulls out a sticky note pad and scribbles, “Are you joking?”

You commit to the bit. “No, I’m serious! What’s your favorite food?”

You watch him fervently rip that note off to write on another one, “Wait, you seriously don’t know?”

The way he’s staring at you makes you relent. “Just humor me for a second Inumaki?” you plead with a soft smile, reassuring him that it’ll be worth it.

He stares at you curiously before nodding and writing, “Tuna mayo onigiri.”

You hum with a nod. “Right, thought so,” you say. “Guess what I have!”

Inumaki’s eyes light up as he excitedly taps his finger against the words he just wrote. His reaction doesn’t take you by surprise; you’ve seen him react like this plenty of times before. It’s what you love about him—how excited and happy he gets about things and isn’t afraid to show it—but something is different. The sun is shining on his face perfectly; it gleams off his eyes, and the way the wind slowly blows past and the trees and flowers behind him sway softly with his hair has you completely mesmerized. So mesmerized, in fact, that Inumaki had to practically shove the notepad in your face for you to even realize you were staring.

You shake your head as if shaking yourself out of your trance, silently acknowledging to yourself that it was odd, but you digress. “Sorry! But yes, I do have that for you!”

He drops the notepad and holds out his hand expectingly, and you giggle as you place the onigiri in his hand. He bows his head slightly at you to say thank you before he digs in, and you smile warmly at him.

“I’ve been trying to get it for you the past few picnics, but they were always out,” you say, frowning. “But today I went early, and they actually had some!”

He acknowledges you with a glance, and your heart skips a beat just from the brief moment that your eyes meet. You try to ignore it, though. You try to ignore how you can’t keep your eyes off him, the butterflies in your stomach, and how warm you feel. Maybe you’re getting sick? Yeah, that must be it. You don’t know how long you got distracted by simply admiring him, but by the time you came back to reality, he was done with his food and writing something on his sticky notes.

He holds up the notepad, asking, “Are you okay?”

You scoff slightly. “Of course I’m okay.”

He frowns at you before scribbling, “You haven’t touched any of your food.”

You look down at the food before returning your gaze to him and awkwardly smiling. “Ah yeah, just not all that hungry, Inumaki...”

You watch him study your face quickly before writing, "Are you sick?” He doesn't give you time to reply before placing the back of his hand on your forehead, and if you weren't already flustered before, you most definitely are now. You're too shocked by his actions to say anything, but it doesn’t matter when he's already scribbling a new sentence. “You feel warm.”

“I'm sure it's nothing, Inumaki,” you try to reassure.

He hands you a sticky note that says, “We should get you back to your dorm and stop for medicine on the way,” before beginning to pack up the left-over food.

You roll your eyes and place your hand over his to stop him, and the way he looks up at you has your brain going blank, so much so that he has to shoot you a questionable look in order for you to realize what you were doing.

You quickly remove your hand from his and clear your throat. “It’s fine, I promise. I probably just have to sleep it off, okay?”

Inumaki doesn't bother writing anything down and instead just stares at you blankly.

“If I'm still ‘sick’ by tomorrow, we can go get medicine, okay?”

He nods, ultimately accepting that answer, but he wishes he didn't because tomorrow never came. You didn't die, obviously, but you might as well have. You started ignoring him the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, and... you get the point.

Inumaki has no idea what he did; he tried to ‘talk’ to you the best he could. He’d leave you sticky notes, and you would hardly acknowledge them or him. Did he do something wrong? He knows most people found him intimidating at first because of his cursed technique and were hesitant around him, but you never were, so why are you acting like it now? Maybe he came off too strongly; maybe you got suffocated being his only friend—well, not his only friend, but his closest friend; maybe you just had enough. Inumaki told himself he was just going to let whatever happens happen, but he couldn’t. So he said he'd find you after class and corner you if he really had to; you’re already ignoring him; what's the worst that could happen after that? But he couldn’t wait till after class tomorrow; he couldn't sleep; he just laid in bed anxiously, which is why he now finds himself standing at your door. He doesn’t think twice about knocking; he wants—no, he needs—to know why you're ignoring him.

You're surprised to see him there, and his twisted-up face makes your heart drop. You're not sure if he's worried, angry, or both.

“Inumaki, hey.” You’re afraid to look at him for too long, fearful that he’ll look back and figure out your feelings for him, so you leave the door open and start walking away. “Come in.”

He does so, shutting the door behind him. You’re a few feet away from him, so he tries to close the distance between you two, only for you to take the same number of steps back. Inumaki frowns and pulls out his sticky notes.

“Are we still friends?”

No, because you’d rather be more—if it isn't obvious by now, the entire reason you’ve been ignoring him is because you've finally realized how deeply in love with him you are.

You avoid his gaze and zero in on your floor instead, nervously laughing. “Of course, Inumaki, why wouldn't we be?”

You hear him scribble something down before the sticky pad shows up in your field of vision. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

You push his hand out of your vision. "No, I haven't.”

You hear more scribbling before one of his hands grabs your chin and lifts your head up to face him. Your eyes fluttered at the action, and you hope to god he didn't notice. He shakes the notepad in his other hand to draw your attention to it. “Yes, you have.”

You can't lie to him when it's like he's staring straight into your soul. “Okay, fine, maybe.”

Though you wish you did when his face drops and he slowly lets go of your jaw to write, “Why?”

You take a step back, and he takes one forward. “It doesn’t matter.”

He frowns and shakes his notepad slightly as if to emphasize his point, “Yes, it does.”

“It doesn't because I'm gonna stop ignoring you, okay?”

“But why were you ignoring me?” he scribbles frantically.

You sigh. “Just drop it, Inumaki, please?”

He shakes his head.

“Inumaki, just forget about it, and we can go back to normal, okay?”

He narrows his eyes at you and writes, “Just tell me! I won't get mad; I just want to know why.”

“Inumaki, seriously drop it,” you say as you turn to walk away, but you don't get far before you hear a clatter of Inumaki’s things hitting the floor, and he grabs your wrist, pulling you into him. He has your wrist to his chest, and your other hand is instinctively pressing against him, while his other hand is on your waist. You grow flustered by how you two are body-to-body, with no space to be found between the two of you, and you look at him wide-eyed, both of your breathing becoming heavier with each passing second. You're about to push yourself off of him or tell him to let go of you, but any thought of doing something vanishes the minute you see him start to open his mouth.

“Tell me,” he says softly yet firmly.

You can't even attempt to fight against his command as the words "I like you" pour out of your mouth against your will.

The minute the words leave your mouth, you go wide-eyed in shock from your confession, and from how he used his technique on you, he’s equally as wide-eyed. You try to yank your wrist free from his hold, but he has an iron grip on you no matter how hard you struggle.

You begin to murmur nervously, your voice trembling with embarrassment, "Inumaki-"

But your sentence is quickly cut short when he leans in. He hesitates for a moment before just going for it and kissing you. You don't kiss back at first in shock, but once you grasp what's going on, you quickly melt into the kiss, practically turning into liquid with the way your legs try to give out on you. You quickly tangle your free hand in his hair; he releases his grip on your wrist and places that hand on your waist as well, while you cradle his face with your newly freed hand. You two stand there kissing and holding each other for what seems like forever before he finally pulls away, both of you nearly panting.

“So, uh, does this mean we’re not friends or-“

© LITTLEXBIMBO

[livwritesstuff]

i hit 100 followers while i was asleep (absolutely bananas imo but i’m so thrilled y’all are enjoying my steddie dads verse bc i’ve literally never had so much fun writing before) so here's a sneak peek of a wip featuring the Harrington fam

Eddie does not understand sports. 

He may be approaching fifty years old and way past his old ways of rejecting every notion that doesn’t perfectly align with his own interests, but even after all these years, the wires in his brain simply cannot wrap themselves around sports no matter how hard he tries.

And he does try because, naturally, he has three daughters, Moe, Robbie, and Hazel, all of whom play sports.

To be clear – his kids can do literally anything they want, bar none.

He’s still in goddamn awe with the whole arrangement that is the life he lives every day – kids and a house and a job he loves and all that with Steve Harrington of all people. There’s no way Eddie would start fucking all that up by projecting his own weird quirks onto his children. He refuses to be the kind of parent that prevents their kids from doing anything just because they don't get it. If the girls want to play sports, they’re gonna play sports. Nothing wrong with that.

Still, sports are one of those things he takes the back seat and lets Steve hold the reins for, especially now that thirteen-year-old Moe is pretty deep into the whole basketball thing. 

Steve understands the politics of the game, both on the court — like knowing which refs are gonna be biased towards which team and noting Moe’s play-time each game — and off. He schmoozes the coach, he’s friends with all the parents, all the things Moe, at thirteen, doesn’t even notice and Eddie, while aware of it, doesn’t understand. He still can barely follow the games themselves (and he goes to as many as he can, though he and Steve are outnumbered by one and with the prospect of the girls carting themselves around still a distant fantasy their schedule is insane so he can’t make them all). He does his best to follow his husband’s lead but Steve doesn’t always react to things the way Eddie thinks he will. He doesn’t bat an eye when a kid gets smacked in the face with a ball, nor at the impossibly loud thud when someone hits the deck (look — he gets the floor is hollow, but it is loud). He’s completely unbothered by the fit Moe throws every game whenever she’s inevitably benched for having an attitude with her opponents or her teammates or the coach or the ref or just about anybody who tries to get in her way.

As is what happened at Moe’s game yesterday.

Eddie hadn’t seen it — well, he’d seen it, but seeing something and understanding what he’s actually looking at are two totally different things. From what he gathers, Moe had missed an easy shot and gotten pissed off in her own little way about it, so she’d launched herself at whoever on the opposing team had gotten their hands on the ball after it ricocheted off the backboard. Unfortunately for Moe, the team they were playing had a reputation for being a little too aggressive for a middle school league, so when she’d hit the ground, she hit it hard. Moe had been pulled off the court by her coach (carded, maybe? Eddie still isn’t sure how that works in basketball) and scowled on the bench for the rest of the game.

Steve had tried to reason with her on the drive home (an interesting choice, in Eddie’s opinion).

“Darling,” he’d said, “I totally understand being upset about missing a layup, but I don’t know how to get it through your head that intentionally fouling someone isn’t the way to go about resolving that emotion. I love you and I support you, but I’m getting tired of watching you play for three minutes and then sit on the bench for the rest of the game.”

“Talk to the coach then,” Moe had grumbled.

“About what?” Steve exclaimed, “Moe — you do it on purpose!”

The conversation had ended not long later because Moe decided to give them both the silent treatment (a clear sign that she knew she was in the wrong even if she didn’t want to admit it) and Eddie thought that was the end of it (for that game, at least). Then, Moe threw them a curveball by spending most of that evening in the bathroom throwing up, at which point she admitted that her head had caught more of that fall during her basketball game than she’d originally let on.

Steve doesn’t mess around with head injuries (for obvious reasons), so the next morning he calls Moe out of school and brings her to their pediatrician to get checked out.

A couple hours after Robbie and Hazel boarded the school bus bound for their elementary school, Steve and Moe return home.

“So what's the verdict?” Ed asks as they enter the kitchen.

“She's concussed,” Steve announces.

“Like father, like daughter.”

“No sports, no bright lights, no reading, no school, no phone,” Steve says pointedly, and Moe only scowls harder. She’d been using the incident as a leveraging tactic in her crusade to get a phone. Not being able to play sports was a no-brainer; they’d all seen that one coming, so even as recently as this morning, she’d been claiming that she’ll “die of boredom without a phone,” while she recovers.

Even as recently as this morning, she’d been largely unsuccessful.

“Thirteen-year-old children do not need phones,” Steve had told her, “If someone wants to talk to you, they can call the house, and if it's urgent enough that it needs to be right now, you can get walkie talkies.”

“No one uses walkie talkies.”

“Your dad and I used walkie talkies all the time.”

“Uh, pretty sure it was just the one time, Steve,” Eddie pointed out.

“Yeah! And it worked out great!”

CONTINUE ON AO3

[stariikis]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐧𝐫𝐤 ˖ ࣪⭑

synopsis ; like the moon needs the stars, riki's whole life would crumble without you. his inspiration, greatest motivation, and his muse.

pairing ; artist!nishimura riki x muse!reader genre ; fluff, established rs, realllly really short drabble of thoughts

this love's possessing me, but i don't mind at all

There are a million ways to say, 'I love you.'

Aren't there?

One chasing after their certain eye-candy may purchase a whole bouquet of that person's favourite flowers. Another would pour their heart and soul onto a piece of paper, a subtle love confession decorated with stickers and fanciful designs. Another might try their hardest to impress them with whatever their forte is.

Riki, however, takes all these and mashes them into one gorgeous painting on an easel.

He emerges from his 'workplace', one of the study rooms in your shared apartment. A blank canvas, about the size of his hand, accompanies him out. Not to mention the various brushes, the bristles sticking out all over the place revealing how loved they are. The paints, watercolour in a small box, acrylic aligned in their designated tubes, and oils of any colour possible.

Lips puckered in a pouting motion, he scans you as if wondering what light he wants to paint you in today. Where he wants to set up his painting station for the next few hours.

The reasons for his choice of background go from the smallest of things to the most obvious. It could simply be the style of your choice of clothes, but once it had been because of the way you reacted when he woke you up in the morning.

He used a fiery red base colour for that artwork. Perfectly encapsulating the constant frown you wore the rest of the day. His words, not yours. They could only ever be his words.

When he finally dismissed you from 'work', he paid you for your efforts with a kiss.

Your sour expression morphed instantly. In the blink of an eye, it was almost as if you had never woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

it's taking over me, don't wanna fight the fall

Today he quietly brings you to the edge of a field, just as sundown occurs. He looks up at the sky, cotton candy clouds bleeding into a warm hue of orange. Nothing leaves his mouth. An absolute silence has overcome him.

And knowing that there's no need for you to break it, there's no need to coax him out of this state for the better, comforts you deep down to the core.

It's like you know exactly how to go about routine, as you settle yourself in the wispy, tall grass and wait for him to set up his materials. However, after propping up his easel, he doesn't unpack his paints and brushes like he usually does. He doesn't unroll his scuffed-with-paint marks apron.

He merely gazes at you, soft and mesmerised.

As an artist, he should have neutral feelings towards his muse. He should be evoking surrounding emotions and feelings. He should be drawing them from deep within himself, and expressing them on the canvas before him.

A muse is only meant to be an inspiration. At times, it's the subject of the art piece. However, it's never the sole purpose.

But the way Riki looks at you proves all that wrong. The way his calloused hands held yours on the way to this destination. The way he scoots closer to you just as you drift off into sleep, and whispers all the newest paintings he's made. He confesses all the sketches he makes are of you. He can't get you out of his mind, he murmurs in a shaky tone, he can't rid himself of your influence on his artistry.

But he's so in love.

Why would he ever want to?

it's like supernatural ₊ ⊹.𖥔 ݁ ˖

thank you for reading! i'm so sorry to anyone expecting me to write any other members. i'm just too addicted to writing for riki... i promise they will have their own fics soon. pls scold me if i don't churn them out... TT

[fuctacles]

Unusual, but maybe not in a bad way

Eddie's shoes might look good, but they were never a good choice for summer rains. He kept forgetting that and letting the reality of his fashion choices hit him hard in the face. Or knees.

The bus had a moving plate in the middle that usually wasn't a problem but today wasn't usual. Today the rain was pouring and Eddie's phone was at 15% because he had been too lazy to plug it in before falling asleep. So today he had to switch seats to one next to a charging port and as he was making the short voyage, a few things aligned perfectly to make today unusual, and in a bad way.

The rotating plate was wet from the rain.

The soles of his shoes had no grip.

The bus turned left.

"Shit."

Eddie gathered himself off the wet floor, cursing his shoes, the weather, and the throbbing pain in his knee. Without looking up he fell heavily into the seat that was his destination, afraid of the amused stares he might catch. His dignity? Gone. His pants? Well, they were torn already anyway so one new hole didn't make much difference. His knee? Bleeding, apparently. As he rubbed his knees, one of his hands came out red. He groaned.

"Of fucking course." He just had to hit something sharp on the usually safe and relatively smooth surface. 

When he was reaching to plug in his phone, someone grabbed the pipe just above the USB port. Eddie looked up and found a man looking down at him. He also realized the golden frames of his glasses complimented his hazelnut eyes beautifully.

"You should clean this up," the man said instead of making fun of him or asking if he was okay. No, he was holding out a packet of wet wipes like some kind of saint.

Eddie hesitated for a moment but while his dignity might be gone, the gorgeous man in front of him wasn't. He took the offered wipe.

"Thanks," he murmured, wiping the cut and the surrounding skin, cleaning off sand and blood.

The man dropped a backpack on the vacant seat next to him. Eddie eyed the pins attached to it; a couple of dinosaurs, a Hufflepuff crest, ‘protect trans kids’, and… a bisexual flag. Score.

"Pirates, Hello Kitty or dinosaurs?"

"Huh?"

"Band-aid," the man clarified, shaking a small tin can he fished out of his backpack. "I work with kids," he added like it explained everything. Well, it kind of did. Upon opening, the tin revealed an assortment of colourful band-aids.

Eddie hummed in thought, considering his choices.

"Dinosaurs."

"Good choice," the man praised with a smile, probably the same one he showed to the kids. Was he a teacher? Because suddenly all the teacher-student porn scenarios gained a new appeal. Where skimpy pencil skirts didn’t work on Eddie, a soft green jumper just might, apparently.

The man handed him a dino band-aid, apparently expecting him to apply it himself. Well, of course. They were two strangers on a bus, after all.

Disappointed, he put it on the cut, missing the amused tilt of the teacher's lips.

"Do you need anything else? I have some candy; lollipops, gummies…" The man flipped through the contents of his bag.

"Gummies?" Eddie's interest was piqued.

"They have colourful fillings and a tiny dragon on each wrapper," he advertised, offering him a small baggie to choose from. Again, his tone reminded him of an adult talking to a kid. This shouldn't be working on him as well as it was.

"Can I have two?" he asked, looking up into these stunning brown eyes. The level difference was not helping. Has he not sat down on purpose? To tower over poor Eddie's tiny metal heart?

The man smiled as he took a quick conspiratorial look around.

"You can even have three, just don't tell my kids," he whispered

"I ain't a snitch!" he assured and picked up two green candies and an orange one. Because red flavours belonged in the trash.

Or apparently in the plush mouth of a handsome stranger, since he picked one of those for himself. Maybe Eddie didn't hate them that much, after all. He could make an exception. Especially if he could taste them the fun way.

"You sure you don't want a lollipop? Water? Extra band-aid?"

Eddie shook his head adamantly but had a nagging feeling the man was stalling. His gaze dropped to the flag badge, giving him an instant shot of courage.

"Your number?"

The soft teacher's smile turned sly, and he knew he took the right step. His metal heart thumped in his chest, the sound resonating against his ribs. What a fun feeling.

"Better hurry up, my stop is next."

Eddie nearly dropped his phone in his haste to put in the string of numbers.

"What do I…?" he asked when the empty ‘name’ box stared at him from the screen.

"Steve," the man offered, just in time for the bus to stop. The doors swung open, and he was gone, but while the physical distance between them grew, Eddie now had the comfort of having him in the palm of his hand, hidden behind a number.

>> Thanks for the candy! 🖤 - Eddie 

[Steddie masterpost] [Ao3] [ko-fi]

[perfectlyoongi]

ROOMMATE!NAMJOON who shares a library with you in your living room. whether you have a lot or a few books, Namjoon purposely bought a bookshelf to be shared between the two of you. mixing up your books and decorating the shelves with plants and small candles, Namjoon made your living room cozier in no time. paying extra attention to your book selection and saving the titles you would like to have on his phone, Namjoon delighted in your small library — in that corner of your house, you and Namjoon were together. even if they were mere books, for Namjoon those shelves were the junction of your souls. “here are stored all the lives we have already lived and those we are yet to live. and isn’t it beautiful how our lives complete each other?”

ROOMMATE!NAMJOON who has pictures of you stuck on your fridge. ever since you met in that house, a long and strong friendship had grown between you — somehow, it seemed like your souls aligned perfectly in the cosmos that day you met. thus, a unique complicity emerged between you, manifesting itself in the small favors you did for each other and in the diverse and fun photographs that adorned your refrigerator. looking at those memories always warmed Namjoon’s heart, knowing that that bond created by you would be forever eternal. “it’s our little gallery. it’s as if we were exposing all our moments to our guests. it’s like we’re shouting ‘look, i have an amazing friendship with my roommate and you don’t!’.”

ROOMMATE!NAMJOON who talks to you through notes when you don’t feel like interacting with people. whether it was because you were sad or upset, Namjoon always respected your space, but that didn’t mean he would leave you alone. Namjoon had gotten to know you since the two of you first met, and as such, Namjoon knew that instead of isolation, what you truly craved was friendly words and someone to listen to you. so, writing little notes and pushing them under your bedroom door, Namjoon reminded you on all your not so good days that he would always be there to listen to you, to talk to you, to keep you company. “hello. i know you’re not well, but i want you to know that i’m here if you need me. also, there is no milk. don’t forget to buy some tomorrow. that’s all. i adore you, bye.”

ROOMMATE!NAMJOON who has a scoreboard about your little prank war. they were harmless things, little swaps of sugar for salt or stealing toilet paper; they were little things that kept you entertained when the world got rougher. on the wall of your kitchen, a small board with your name and Namjoon’s name showed the scores of your matches, with a small difference between you and Namjoon — but he would get his revenge, just you wait. “the next time you put sugar on my shoes, i swear i will shave your eyebrows. just wait for my revenge. i think you’d better start sleeping with just one eye open. i will not be merciful.”

ROOMMATE!NAMJOON who always asks if you want something when he goes to the grocery store. it had been agreed that each of you would do the shopping for the house at intervals, as there was no need for one of you to leave the comfort of your home to crawl alongside the other. so whenever Namjoon visited the supermarket, when the entire list had already been placed in the basket, he would always call you before heading to the cash register. making sure you didn’t want anything additional to the list, Namjoon would pay for the shopping, but not before putting your favorite snack in the basket. “yes, i finished shopping now but i haven’t paid yet. you really don’t want anything? you sure? well, i’ll buy you that chocolate you like. today you seemed sadder to me.”

ROOMMATE!NAMJOON who ends up falling asleep in your room when he drinks too much. whether at home or on a night out with friends, when Namjoon’s fun came to an end and he was getting ready to fall asleep, you already knew that you would have to go sleep on the couch. for some reason, when the night came to an end, Namjoon always ended up in your room, lying on your bed, asking you to stay there with him. without knowing it, it was in alcohol that Namjoon deposited all his feelings for you, creating the courage to verbalize them when no memory of what happened would torment him the next day. Namjoon found comfort in you, it was normal for him to lie in your bed. “if i stay in your room you can’t kick me out because that’s rude and you don’t like rude people so you wouldn’t like yourself and i really hope you like yourself because you might be the most amazing person i’ve ever met and…”

ROOMMATE!NAMJOON who confessed to you one spring morning when you were preparing your breakfast. Namjoon was sitting at the table watching you walk from one side of the kitchen to the other while preparing your breakfast. there was something mystical about the way the first rays of sunlight painted you gold. there was something ethereal about the way the birds only began to sing upon your arrival. there was something divine about you and Namjoon couldn’t control himself. like someone breathing, as naturally as someone blinks, Namjoon put down his glass of juice when you sat in front of him and, without thinking, he just spoke. “you know you’re more beautiful when you haven’t experienced the world yet? i think it was that beauty that made me fall in love with you.”

[thatoneguydownthestreet]

Howdy! I was wondering what the twst guys would do if apocalypse mc came to twisted wonderland with a rifle and handgun? Like rook learning they can be used for hunting or lilias reaction to the weapons of war from their world

You don’t have to write this! I’ve just been brainrotting about this 😮‍💨

Anyway thanks for your time!💕💕

I really need to add a character limit to this.

I'm doing one from the first 5 dorms and if you want more characters I'll get to them once requested open again.

FEM ALIGNED DNI

Yuu pronouns are he/him

Characters: Ace (technicallyduece too ig), ruggie, jade, kalim, and rook

Warnings: Dueces slight suicidal ideation, ruggies lowkey nihilism, you kill a monster in Jades part, slight body horror in Kalims part, not proof read

________________________________

Ace:

Ace was pissed. Why? Because he was fucking stupid.

He was stupid. Duece was stupid. And that weird kids with the weird mask and the fucking fire monster was fucking stupid.

Because someone thought it would be a great idea to run away from their clean up duty (Grim (ace quietly chose to ignore that he had tried to do the same thing first)) by hiding in a chandelier was a good idea, and someone else thought hurling him into said chandelier with questionable at best magic was an even better idea.

So now ace trappola was running for his life in a crystal mine, with only the same people who got him into this situation in the first place here with him.

These feelings only seemed to be amplified after duece decided that the crystals were worth more than his life! Also it didn't exactly help that he had seen the magicless guy almost get impaled with one of the oversized pickaxes that...that thing was swinging around.

"My....m.y..Give me back..my. STONES"

The adrenaline rushed through aces body like a wave, it's only purpose being to make sure he survives dammit! He doesn't even care if he gets expelled anymore. His brother has told him enough stories about NRC to write a novel. Ace had come here with a picture already painted in his head and this was not it.

He made a sharp turn left. They had walked down this tunnel on their way in right?

He saw a little light poke out just around the next turn.

Yeah, they had come through this way.

Ace heard a small yelp and the sound of dirt being scattered and a small thud of someone hitting the ground.

He didn't look back. He just kept running.

He kept running until he came across the small cottage that they'd gone into earlier. Duece stumbled in right after him. The masked boy and the fire cat-weasle thing on his shoulders.

The guy was covered in dirt. He's probably the one that fell.

Ace was bent over, panting like he had just ran for his life, probably because he did, but he's pretty sure he heard duece half gently set the kid, whose name he still didn't really know, down before he joined ace in his desperate attempt to catch his breath.

Ace closed his eyes. What the hell is happening right now? Why was he here? Why did he have to go tease that weird magicless freak this morning and pick a fight with their freaky cat?

You know what? Fuck this. If he gets expelled, so be it. There are plenty of other magic schools, including ones closer to home. He'll be just fine.

Duece however, didn't seem to get the memo.

"It was right there...we have to go back!", duece had so much determination in his voice...

Ace felt his eye twitch. "Like hell we do!"

Duece snapped his head towards him, and the mystery bro was still sitting on the floor, now cradling grim like he was an actual cat.

"Yeah, no. Sorry, but that crystal ain't worth it"

"So...so you're just gonna take the expulsion lying down? Just like that!? What are you, some kind of coward!?", duces voice got progressively more angry, which ace thought was bullshit.

He thought he was being perfectly reasonable with his choices, thank you very much.

"Uhhh. Yeah! Sorry not sorry, I choose life!"

I mean sure, his brother is gonna look at him all disappointed and shit, but hey, at least he'd be alive to see it.

Ace looked back at Mr. Mask-Man, who was still quietly petting grim, acting like they weren't even there.

It kind of pissed him off a little.

"Hey", he looked up, Ace count see their eyes, but somehow he knew they weren't making eye contact "do you have any better ideas? Or are you just gonna sit there the while time and not do anything?"

Was he being unfair? Probably. This guy (he should really ask for his name) wasn't even supposed the be in night Raven college, not to mention here? And he probably didn't want to be here any more than he did.

Did he care about that though? No. Not right now anyway.

Ace expected him to just put his head back down and go back to petting his freaky weasel. He expected them to just shrink up on themselves while ace went back to yelling at duece.

He did expect the guys head to perk up the smallest bit, he didn't expect the sudden feeling of very intense eye contact either.

And he definitely didn't expect him the nod and stand up so fast ace almost stumbled back.

But you know what the absolute last thing he expected from this guy? Going back to the mines.

Going back to the mines and waiting with duece for grim and the masked guy to come hauling ass back up the hill with the ...inky monster in tow. Because that's what's going to happen. Apparently.

...fuck. This guy was some type of maniac wasn't he?

Ace just glared at the ground. There wasn't anything he could do about it now, but he was still gonna be pissed if he died with a possible psychopath currently running towards him, and this blue gumball son of a bitch standing next to him.

"Bring me....my...stooones!"

He took a deep breath, possibly one of his lasts.

But I mean hey, might as well go out with a bang right?

The next few minutes all seemed to happen in slow motion, and somehow ace could already see the moment when the reality of all this would all hit him. At 3 am or something like that. Probably.

...yeah. 3 am.

"Ace watch out!", a panicked, exhausted voice called out to him. Probably duece.

His head snapped over to where his dormmate was. What's happening?

The answer seemed pretty damn obvious, when a large shadow seemed to swallow him whole, a product of the monsters looming stature.

Ace froze. Seeing his life start to flash before his eyes. Memory after memory replaying in his mind.

You never really know how little you've lived until you see it all right in front of you...

BAM.

Aces eyes shot open (when had he closed them?) To see Mr. Mask standing just roughly six meters away from him, holding a...

...uh....what the hell was that?

BAM. BAM. BAM.

The loud noises rang out one by one. One right after the other.

Ace booked it to the side, trying to catch his breath.

Only for it to get caught again once he looked up.

The creatures head, the glass ink jar, was leaking. It had six small holes in it, and cracks spiderwebbing out from said holes. As the cracks grew larger, the glass began to break off, and more and more ink began to pour out.

"Duece!"

Aces eyes snapped to their third member, who responded immediately with another cauldron.

The head finally shattered. And the monster disappeared.

Slowly, aces gaze fell on the Ramshakle resident once again. Blinking slowly as he watched the guy put the...loud..thing away, before picking up grim once again.

Ace opened his mouth, and before he could even begin to realize what he was doing, he asked, "what was that?"

You called it a gun.

Ruggie:

Listen. Ruggie wasn't new to violence. You can't live in the slums all your life and make it out completely sheltered, no matter how hard your parents try.

And sure. Ruggie wasn't exactly a saint himself, But at this point, was anyone? He certainly didn't think so.

Yeah. Almost getting killed by leona fucked him up a little. But really, it wasn't that new when he really thought about it.

And yeah, leona never really apologized to him for all that, but at times like that, in an environment like savanaclaw? He didn't need to. His actions, no matter how small they were, still spoke for themselves.

So yeah. Ruggie bucchi has a lot of experience with violence.

But if you were to ask ruggie if he's ever seen anything like this before? Yeah. He'd have to answer no.

Everything was going shit. They were following the plan, he did his part flawlessly might he add, and then Azul decided he didn't want to follow the script. So now he was surround by black ink, panicking students, and slightly less panicking... allies? Allies.

But yeah. This sucked.

And so began the fight for his life once again. Honestly, this shit was getting old.

Whipping his head in every which way to look or for flying debris and tentacles (and wasn't that a sentence), and keeping his ears open for shouted commands and warnings, his attention landed on you for half a second, before quickly turning away; In that half second he saw you pull something out from jacket pocket.

About five seconds later, he heard a loud bang.

And not like when the construction workers accidentally drop a metal beam on concrete or something. No, this was just a loud, earth shattering bang that demanded attention. And attention it got.

Several heads snapped to you, holding a...uhhh. You tilted your head to the side, either in confusion or trying to get an angle on Azul.

BANG BANG

And then there was a scream, distorted and pained, with a faint sound of gushing and sloshing, a liquid being spilled. Ink being spilled out of the overblot phantoms head.

"Huh...the other one just died immediately..", he heard you mutter.

Ruggie shot a pointed look over to leona, who just looked at him in confusion. Ok. So he didn't miss anything during his housewardens little episode. He took a quick glance at the heartslabyul duo, who looked like they understood. Well, Ace understood. Duece wasn't close enough to hear and didn't have the hearing to pick up the slack.

Ok. So maybe yuu also decided to whip the thing out when riddle when crazy? He'll ask around later. Probably.

A tentacle slammed right next to him and started writhing around with another loud scream as the phantom lost more and more ink, and Ruggie remembered where they were.

The damage you did the overbloted octopus wasn't enough to downright defeat him, but it was enough to at least make the rest of the way a hell of a lot easier. So they're odds were looking much better than they were. Small mercies.

When everything eventually came to a head and the ink was beginning to melt off of Azul and he could finally breathe, he let his mind drift back to you.

Ok. What the hell. What was that? Why did it make that noise? What did it even do? How'd it shatter thick ass, magic glass? Did it launch blades at it or something? Also, why are you pretending like this whole thing was completely normal?

You weren't freaking out about this, you honestly seemed more focused on combing the gunk out of Azuls hair with your gloved fingers while the twins tried to asses his mental state, grim flopping on the ground off to your side. Now, this is probably your third, or maybe even fourth time you've been in this situation. But perfect, you treating it like it's just another Tuesday isn't exactly. Uh. Normal?

Not that you were normal, you had just began taking regular baths, which he was immensely grateful for. Seriously, he could only hold back leonas hair as he puked so many times before it got old. But even your (lack of) personality raised a few questions. Sometimes he wondered if you where really even there half the time.

After he caught his breath, he began to walk over to where you were, Ace and duece now scolding you and jade trying to check if you were hurt or not, and holy shit that is a big ass gash.

But he was already standing right behind you, so he honestly might as well ask.

"Hey. So uh. What did you do? What made the bangs?"

Your head snapped in his direction, pausing to just stare at him for a few unnerving seconds.

And then you pulled something out and called it a gun.

Jade:

Jade didn't really question why you wanted to join his club, he was just glad someone did. Even if that someone was a fucking weirdo like yourself.

Listen, jade wasn't picky when it came to his clubmembers ok?

Plus, aside from a few conversations about a bird or plant species you liked, and many more questions about basic things that you had apparently never seen before, and him acting like he knew any better than you about it, things went smoothly.

He collected his mushrooms and occasionally stopped to do a fieldsketch and you rolled around in moss and somehow became an instant bird whisperer. It was a good system.

About as good as it could be while you were running from a big ass monster.

Ok. Listen. He knew that there were monsters on this particular mountain, and he knew that some of them were man eaters. But dammit he did the research before hand! He made sure the two of you avoided their natural habitats at all cost! But apparently, this particular one could smell human blood much better than the rest, and apparently, you thought it was a good idea to not tell him you had cut yourself on a rock and were now bleeding.

"There's a cave right there!", he saw you point to an opening in a rock wall that was most definitely the small least cave he'd ever seen "do you think we could hide in it for a minute"

"I don't know!", you didn't really have any other options, running forever until you reached the place where the mirror had dropped you both off was more than inconvenient, especially on a mountain that had more steep cliffs than average. So he quickly signaled to you and began running towards it, awkwardly running into the small hole and barely seeing you baseball slide your way into there with much more ease.

Desperately trying to catch his breath, he started to plan. You only had a few minutes at best before the monster caught up to you, so the best thing they could do with the time they had was treat your wound to the best of his ability, and hope that the smell of blood would gradually fade and the beast would be thrown off your trails.

Click

He looked to you, hunched over and sill slightly panting as you loaded small, but long pointed metal cylinders into...something?

You had stopped wearing the mask, being one of the few people you trusted enough to see your face, which was sweet if he thought about, you were even getting better to look at! Looking a lot less like you had come back from the dead after the apocalypse and more like a recovering drug addict, but hey! Progress!

But he point is, he could see your face, and the look on your eyes, and...

Ah shit.

Perfect. Listen perfect, he knows you're batshit crazy, he is too, but please, you're going to get them killed. Even with your insane amount of luck, your half baked plans only work most of the time so for the love of the sea witch please just-

"I have an idea"

...Dammit.

So that's how you both got here, kneeling just barely out of the cave opening, and him standing on the Rocky formation right above you outside the cave. Waiting for the monster, and possi ly for death. If he survives this the first things he'd doing when he gets back to his dorm room is write his will so that he can make sure his precious mushrooms aren't thrown away by his brother. Would riddle accept them?

"Jade!"

He blinked, got his magic pen ready, and you cocked your gun. Staring at the place where the sound of heavy footsteps and snarls were coming from.

You both waited with baited breath as themonsters form came running up the steep hill and charged towards the two of you.

The sensation of water and earth magics filled the air as spell after spell was released, hitting the creature a good majority of the time. Meanwhile, you were shifting slightly, getting into a position that didn't look the most comfortable, but apparently it worked for you because you quickly gave him a small warning shout.

Jade covered his ears. You had warned him about the sound guns make, and how many people went deaf fro them due to lack of proper equipment and training, you sounded like you were repeating a quote that was all but drilled into you, a saying that everyone knows but never really says out loud. Did he belive you were exaggerating? Slightly.

That went away when he heard the loud boom though, even through his covered ears. Jade grew slightly concerned at the fact that you didnt seem to be too affected by all this.

You didn't seem too surprised at the loud noise. Just angling and adjusting the gun position until you could hit your target more accurately as it moved.

He heard ten shots go off. Out of those ten, at least seven actually hit. The monster, being as huge as it was, was about to ignore the first three. The rest, however, were clearly starting to take a toll on the thing.

He saw you pull the trigger a few more times, nothing more than assumed clicks coming out. Jade couldn't be too sure, as the pained roars of the monster completely drowned out the sound. Wordlessly, he got took his hands away from his ears and readied his magic. Letting it burst all around him and borage the monster as soon as your hand shot up into the air. The signal that you needed to reload and he had to momentarily take over.

The whole event took about fifteen minutes that felt like they were stretched into hours. Ending with him feeling a bit lightheaded, and you firing three extra shots into what he was pretty sure was a monstrous corpse. "Just in case".

Wanting to sit down and take a moment to collect himself was only just outweighed by the urge to make sure you were alright. So, jade jumped down from his little rock podium; he reached the ground just as you completely crawled out of the cave entrance.

Gently, he asked, "are you alright perfect?". A perfectly appropriate question to ask after...that.

To which you, in reply, completely flop down on the rough ground and let out a loud groan, both of you pretending that there wasn't a dead, three-metter tall monster right next to you.

An equally appropriate response.

"Four magazines jade! Four! I'm going to have to make soany bullets now!", jade only nodded, like how you do when he starts ranting about his beloved mushrooms.

Oh well, he'd understand soon enough. He has plenty of questions regarding you and you gun for the walk back to the mirror location.

Kalim:

Kalim felt like was caving in on him.

This was all happening so fast, way too fast. The one person that he thought he could trust whole heartedly, the boy he saw as nothing less than a brother, had done all this.

It was a lot to take in. Everything from his supposed verdict of keeping his dorm members in school, to yuu and grims vague comments, comments that he now recognizes for the warnings they were, to the guys from octavinnle, jamil overblotting, getting flung to the dessert, and now to be back here? Fighting for not only his, but his best friends (were they though?) Life?

Kalim just wanted to cry. The drop the the floor and cry. But he'd already done that and there was no time to do it again now. Not when he could see the ink and the snakes sucking out more and more of jamils life, when he could see jamils body begin the break down and contort in ways that shouldn't be possible. Not when his eyes grew more deranged with every second.

No, Kailm couldn't cry now. Not when Jamil was dying.

Magic attacks meeting the emotions of dread and rage that jamil had kept professionally buried only served made the air more tense. Yuu occasionally shouted directions from he sidelines, directions to use fire magic instead of water, or to dodge an incoming attack that very well could have killed him if it made contact.

And that just raises the question. Did jamil..? Was it his intention to kill him? Was that his goal the entire time?

....No. No, if Jamil wanted Kailm dead, then Kailm would be dead. He didn't want Kailm gone he just wanted him to go away. And for that reason, Kailm had the hope that he needed that he could fix this. And by the seven he'll cling to it for as long as he lives if that's what it takes.

"Perfect!", Jades sharp voice took Kailm right out of his thoughts.

"Yeah? Kailm move to the right!", he moved to the right, just in time for a borage of ink and thron covered vines to come crashing into the exact spot he was standing not even five seconds prior. The vines writhing around like they were alive, and he could see the sharp, jagged edges of its thorns cut into its self with the ease of cutting through soft butter. Not that he would know. "What do you need?"

"Do you have your gun?", Jade svoice was deathly calm, which was a bit jarring all things considered.

He didn't know what a "gun" was, but he guesses floyd knew, because he groaned louder than some of his youngest siblings when they had to get up early.

From out the corner of his eye, he saw you stop for a few seconds. Then you answered.

"Yeah", something in your voice that he couldn't quite read. "Yeah, but I only have like five shots"

Both jade and azul looked less than pleased with that, and Kailm still didn't know what was going on, so he just threw more fire at his friend.

"Well then. You better make them count", azuls matter of fact voice rang out.

He didn't see if you nodded or not. And for the next minute, he didn't hear you at all. There were no more instructions being shouted or anything like that. Just the continued onslaught of four peoples magic, all trying desperately to snap Jamil out of his current state. Who was being bent into more and more inhuman shapes as the seconds passed.

His jaw was opening a little too wide as he laughed, his fingers seemed to be getting longer and more claw like, and his voice was so now so distorted that he could barely even understand what he was saying.

But what freaked him out the most what the loud cracking and crunches of bones breaking. Jamils spine now seemed too long, bent in an unnatural way, accompanied by a crack everytime he moved. He only laughed.

Kalim didn't laugh. There was ink running down his body, all from where he had been contorted. And as time crawled on, his eyes grew more and more crazed, and his distorted laughs turned more like screams.

Kalim wasn't the best at magic, he had never been the best at magic, he knew that, even before now. So when he felt himself become light headed as his energy and magic supply ran low, he started to panic.

Oh no. Oh sevens, oh no. Please no. Not now. Anytime but now. He couldn't lose now. What would happen to jamil? How would he get Jamil home after this?

How was he supposed to tell Jamils family that their son and brother was dead?

BANG

A distorted scream ran out as floyd began to cheer, and his stomach dropped.

BANG BANG BANG

More screams. Blood curdling screams that froze Kalim where he stood. Watching jamils face begin the crack, ink pouring through the cracks on his face like blood as his eyes rolled back and his entire expression turned to one of pain. A perfect mirror to the shattering phantom that loomed behind him.

"I have one shot left and I am not wasting it! Aim for the cracks! Use fire! It'll weaken the glass!", your voice rang out, carrying a determination with it, but also the reality that they were in no way out of the woods yet.

"You mean the magic glass?", azul was skeptical

"Its magic fire", Kailm could hear the shrug in your voice.

Kalim is ashamed to admit it. But he wasn't much help after this. Jamils vpice had random breaks from the distortion. So he had a perfect audio of jamil screaming his vocal cords raw in his actual voice. Something that would haunt him until the day he died.

Ink was still pouring out from his wounds. Bones were still breaking. And it almost looked like Jamils body was melting off of him in a grotesque manner.

Kalim closed his eyes and prayed.

Eventual, the distortion completely went away, so the screams and the sobs seemed less monstrous and more tortured. Jamils attacks completely stopped as well.

And with one final bang, so did yours.

When Kalim opened his eyes again, I was only after jade prayed his hands off his ears, something he doesn't even remember doing.

Azul and yuu were standing over jamils blood covered body, and for a second, he feared the worst.

It was only after you kneeled to check if he was still alive, and he saw Jamil moving did he allow himself to breathe, and to finally cry.

Through blurred vision, he saw you put the gun away. He never asked what it was. He didn't need to know. You saved Jamils life with it, and that was good enough for him.

Rook:

Rook enjoyed beanfeast. Honestly, he could say it was one of his favorite days of the year. What other time? What other opportunities would he get but this? To hunt his fellow classmates for sport like this? To see their determination wither away as they accepted their fates as his prey!

Now, normally rook would go solo on this. Others found it a bit hard to keep up with him until now. Until yuu.

Ah his dear little trickster and his admirable kill or be killed mentality that he had taken up as of late! My, when rook had looked into his eyes, he saw nothing less than the eyes of a killer! A tiger on the hunt!

Or perhaps, he mused, a lion. Because there, right underneath them, was leona kingscholar himself.

Yuu has proposed they move from above, to stay in the wooded area and maintain the high grounds. Yuu had made his way up a tree with the swiftness and elegance of a bird taking flight! Walking steadily along the branches like he was simply made for it.

Together, the two of you had taken out quite a few farmers. With rook silently stalking them and you communicating your predictions with hand signals that he could understand blind. Those predictions of what the farmers would do, or even who would be in the area were proven true to an uncanny extent.

Rook wanted to know how, but that conversation could be saved for a different day.

Rook could barely see you chest rising up and down as you breathed so slowly you might as well haven't have been. He himself was holding his breath as you both angled your bean blasters. The slightest noise could tip the beastman off, after all.

You had temporarily split off to different trees, him being about a dozen meters away from you, just to the left of Leona, while we're were to the right.

He saw you hand slowly raise up, carefully avoiding the rustling leaves as you gave another hand signal. Thos one being significantly more simple than the majority. Just three fingers raised to indicate three seconds. Three seconds and you both shoot. You closed you hand, starting the timer.

Three.

The two of you, perfectly in sync, found your final aims of the beastman.

Two.

You carefully placed your fingers on the trigger. Taking caution not to shoot too early. The last thing would want to do was ruin this seemingly special moment for the two of you.

The wind blew in you direction. Thre leaves began to rustle, and leonas head shot in your direction.

Three.

You both pulled your triggered in perfect harmony, and, like a beautiful dance coming to an end, the mighty lion had fallen. And you both ran across the tree branches, making your ways to eachother as soon as possible.

The happy, adrenaline filled giggle you let out when he finally found found you again was nothing less than precious. Not to mention it fit the moment. Oh how he wishes you would stop trying to compose yourself all the time! The world deserves to see your joy!

He let out a laugh of his own, being rewarded with a smile that you couldn't help. This imagine of you in perfect juxtaposition with how you looked upon first arrival to this world.

And, if he may, rook would like to say that your face was shaping up to be something he wouldn't mind staring at. Ah, recovery was a marvelous thing indeed! He couldn't wait to see your progress by the end if the year.

When the laughter subsided, you took you hand and laid a gentle kiss to the back of your fingers, as a small congregation and a job well done.

"Yes, very nice monsieur. That was very nice indeed", his soft voice suddenly taking on a more mischievous note to it, a not that you matched with those shinning eyes of yours. "Now, I belive we have more game to secure, yes? Let us be off, my dear trickster"

You smiled, the corners of your mouth moving into a smirk. Your eyes, however, he'll the glee of a giddy boy, finally getting to experience something he was robbed of long ago. Rook only hoped that much later in your life, when you think of how many shots you've ever fired, this day will be included.

So smile, dear trickster, that all he asks. That's all you deserve.

________________________________

YALL I AM SO SORRY."I'm working on requests" fucks off your 5 more months omg what am I on. Eat your food, yall gotta be starving rn shit I am a terrible father.

[accio-victuuri]

ONE NIGHT IN BEIJING & other sweets 🌃

when i first saw this song being discussed earlier, i was confused cause i don’t know what’s happening. lol. what’s with the song. i cannot trace where the screenshot is from but it says one of WYB’s favorite song is this, one night in beijing.

then a fan commented that XZ sang this in our song before ( not main performance ) and someone found a recording. did he discover the song because of that? was it on zz’s playlist at some point in the past and became his fave?

the song itself tho. very 👀👀👀

Don’t wish to ask where you have been

Don’t wish to wonder if you are ever returning

I’m thinking of your heart, I’m thinking of your face

I’m thinking of your embrace – I won’t let go, I just won’t

that’s just the first few lines and i’m here nodding my head that this fits his style of bittersweet song.

but this not even the interesting part….

Fans are thinking about how this relates to what’s been happening in the past few ways. The way we have speculated about 11/19 and WYB acting as the mystery driver again. Then him sharing a post on his weibo. One night in Beijing? Does he love that particular title cause it sometimes describes their meetings? They are often busy and one night is all they can get.

People are also pointing out the change in ZZ’s work schedule today. His LOCH sched starts early and ends in the evening or very late but the 5:30-6:00 AM call time for him is almost fixed. Yesterday, 11/22, WYB posts and we think they are together. What happens today? ZZ comes in “late” to work at 11:30 AM. So why the change? Was he spending time with Bobo? This reminds me of that time he was out of his schedule too when Bobo was sick.

A common argument from haters is how is a relationship between them possible. They are busy! Well.. this is how. since 2020, they have been meeting (allegedly) and even going to each other’s workplace ( allegedly lol repeating this to be safe ) It doesn’t matter how long, they make it work. You will always find time for the important people in your life.

Next, let’s move on to XZS post. On a Thursday. Also it perfectly coincides with their WB account reaching 10 million followers. The photos shared are behind the scenes content from ad shoots but the contrast of the photos stands out. Day & Night. The kadian they use, 14:23 loving zhan forever. Which goes to show that they do use it!

The caption gives us more insight on the choice of photos. Sun & Moon. Another symbolism that is popular with CPFs Sun/Sunshine & Moon.

“It is the perfect moment, just like when the gentle light meets the rising moon.”

I think the english translation doesn’t give that much deeper meaning that we clowns love. so we gotta take it to the next level 🙃🙃🙃

"Fuguang" and "Wangshu" are both important elements in Chinese culture. "Fuguang" comes from the works of Song poets in the Southern Dynasties, which means sunlight or sunlight."Wangshu" is a god in Chinese mythology and legend, representing the moon and can be used to describe moonlight'. The two can be combined to show that lovers support each other and move towards a bright future together.

This caption aligns to WYB posting a photo yesterday that shows the 🌙. So does this mean WYB is the Moon & ZZ is the Sun/light? I have to say that it fits with their personality ( tho Bobo is warm and ZZ has his moments of being cold too but you know what I mean, for symbolic purposes only ok. ) I am loving this imagery between them! I hope we can have more reference in the future.

I’m cackling at this tho. The progression of posts, WYB’s caption was a reminder that it’s getting colder > YBO reposts and says to wear warmer clothes > XZS posts and GG is wearing a cozy sweater 😂 As if saying that yep, he has worn warmer clothes. LOL.

and xzs and ybo are at it again, the photo ybo shared yesterday was showing wyb’s back and xzs shared something similar today as the last photo in the grid. i’m sure they have lots of photos that show his face or close ups of his body like his hand but they had to choose this as the finale.

i mean thank you, this will make it easier for us to edit them together 😂😂😂

Bonus, the “light” photos appear to form an 8 = bo. (p1) is a himalaya episode about the 8 of diamonds card forming an 8. What a coincidence!

-END.

[mamayan]

★彡CRINGE☆彡

Shit I think the KNY Hashira do or have done— this is for fun only, don’t come for me if these doesn’t perfectly align with you~

tw: none!

Water Hashira! Giyuu Tomioka

He talks to himself, like long inner monologues spoken only to like, a wall. It doesn’t make sense half the time. He’s working it out.

Laundry sniffer, he isn’t sure it’s clean until he smells it, and even then he’s confused because is it clean? He’ll rewash clothes because they might smell clean but he can’t remember if he wore it or not.

Tries to pet dogs that absolutely will bite him.

Sound Hashira! Tengen Uzui

Will lose his jewelry and act like someone hid it on purpose from him. Acts similar to a 19 year old who lost their vape at someone’s house.

He’s stained multiple tatami mats/futons with his nail polish because he didn’t let them dry before messing around.

Makes scary faces at children to scare them and then laughs afterward.

Fire Hashira! Kyojuro Rengoku

He will repeat aloud the thing you whisper to him so loudly it defeats the purpose of whispering in his ear.

Will shed everywhere and not clean up after himself. The equivalent of smacking the hair on the shower wall after washing but it’s his whole house. Sorry Senjuro—

Believes tickling is fun and everyone loves it, even when the person being tickled is on the verge of passing out/pissing their pants.

Execute children without trial—

Stone Hashira! Gyomei Himejima

Forgets your height, asks for things that are impossible to get because he put it up way the hell up there.

His head pats are more painful than they are cute, it’s like he’s hammering your skull into your neck.

Will get ink stains on his robes/desk/etc. because he never puts away his stationary properly.

Wind Hashira! Sanemi Shinazugawa

Will threaten you within an inch of your life for one small accident (papercut) but will become enraged if you level him with the same treatment after he’s nearly killed himself with training.

Will mother hen you in the weirdest ways, like wiping your face with his spit to get the dirt off.

Won’t tell you something is wrong with your appearance in public, but will stare you down to give you the hint something is. He thinks it’s a universal sign. No one knows what the hell it means except him and maybe Genya.

Snake Hashira! Obanai Iguro

He comes up with some of the most clever and insidious jokes but tells them at the wrong time. Way too late or too early for anyone to catch it and then it’s not funny anymore.

Will let Kaburamaru shed wherever and will leave the skin. Unless it’s Mitsuri standing right there, he will not be cleaning it up. Has scared multiple Kakushi who thought they stepped on Kaburamaru and killed him.

Doesn’t take his shoes off when entering homes, etc. even if there’s no tatami mats. He only shows respect to Ubuyashiki and Mitsuri’s estates.

Mist Hashira! Muichiro Tokito

He bathes as needed, which in his opinion, doesn’t need to be all that often. Teenage boys are gross no matter how pretty they look. Natural body odor isn’t all that bad though, so he gets away with it.

He will hear you speak words and interpret them entirely however he wants. He will confuse himself because he swore he heard you tell him to go take a nap. You didn’t—

Will send the food back at a restaurant if even the tiniest thing is wrong.

Love Hashira! Mitsuri Kanroji

She will create full and detailed stories in her mind of people around her, and confuse herself because she can’t remember if she thought it for them or if they did it. Me too girl—

Cuteness is justice mentality: The cuter she finds you, the less wrong you can do in her eyes. Obanai

Like Kyojuro, sheds everywhere, 100% the hair on the shower wall sort of girl. She does clean up after herself much better than Kyojuro.

Poison Hashira! Shinobu Kocho my wife

She does no wrong.

Petty as hell and will absolutely make your stay at her estate miserable if you piss her off. You won’t know what you did, but you’ll find your food and living conditions plummet.

Can’t sleep if her pillow doesn’t smell like her, no sleep overs for this girl unless she brings her own bedding.

If she finds out you have a pet peeve, she will lay into it with passion and grit. Tengen loses his shit when he hears people sucking their teeth… Shinobu is happy to recondition him. It’s her way of showing she cares♡!

[hoeforhao]

hi hello so i looked through the prompts and LET ME TELL U. prompt 1 and 4 with a bratty reader and mean dom wonwoo or joshua? instant brainrot for me. also i love ur writing ehehe <3

okay this is my first one for the prompts, thank you sm for all the thirsty requests!!!😼 i initially wanted to do this with joshua but there are already three joshua requests so 😵‍💫prompt list

Being the bratty little girl you are and walking in on wonwoo playing games with his friends, when he had specially warned you several times not to ; dressed up in a tight silk skirt, straddling his lap while his friends were on a video call with him, meant landing onto his satan side - the only difference being this satan will take away all the senses in your pussy rather than your soul!!

"What did I tell you love, hmm?" wonwoo places one of his fingers under you chin harshly pushing your face up from burning holes into the floor to meey his face, his eyes which have now turned from soft kitten orbs to dark sinister ones.

You were so engrossed into the anticipation of the doom that was gonna shower on you soon, that the sudden shift of your eyes from the dark tiles to his red beads made your own ones blink in sensitivity.

"I-I'm so..sorry wonu" your last game plan to escape from his wrath was to give him those puppy eyes, but alas this time you've truly got on the last of his nerves and nothing could save you now.

"That's not the answer to my question honey" wonwoo's grip on your chin tightens, ensuring to leave his mark on there later.

Realizing that there's no running away from the fruit of your actions this time, you give in to his lordship."You t-told me not to...not to disturb you while...." you took a long pause before saying out the keyword to your answer, too long for wonwoo's liking.

"Did cat got your tongue sweetheart? Hmm? You know I don't like to wait" wonwoo drawing his nails through your tightly shut lips made a whimper escape the dark caves, making your blurt out the last word from the sudden pain.

"Gaming. You told me not to disturb you while you were gaming"

"And what did you do? The exact thing that I you from, right?" you could only nod in response while being harshly pushed to your knees onto the cold floor, your face perfectly aligning in front of his bulge.

"You do know how much I hate bratty girls, don't you love?" wonwoo's hands now shift from your shoulders to the drawstrings of his sweats, untying them in one quick swish and pushing the grey piece of clothing along with his boxers down his waist ; his painfully hard cock springing up against his stomach in the process.

No matter how many times you've see his cock, no matter how many times you've jumped on the same, blew him off, you're still taken aback everytime at the beauty of his length - pink veins running down the tip to his balls and connecting them with those on his abs, perfectly rounded mushroom head...

“This cock isn’t going to suck itself” wonwoo's sudden remark brings you out of the trance of admiring your boyfriend's perfect dick, as he firmly grabs onto a bunch of your hair, instantly pushing your mouth onto his throbbing length.

Getting what your lips have been wanting since the very time you saw him in those gray sweatpants, you waste no time in moving your mouth up and down his girth, as if the sole purpose of your cavity was to fill his cock into and give him the most tantalizing head of his life.

Your tongue decides to be all bratty again as you momentarily take his cock out of your mouth to lick the precum leaking down his tip, while you hand ghosts above his balls, giving them a tight squeeze in the way.

Wonwoo's groans grow impatient as he has finally had enough of your shenanigans and decides to not let you loose anymore. He yanks your hair back again, forcing his entire length into your mouth, and holding you in place constantly with the grip on your head, leaving only the minimum amount of space required for you to bob up and down his cock.

"F-fuck fuck fuck such a slutty mouth, taking...taking me all in into its warmth" his hold on your scrap stiffens as you are now left incompetent to speak, his tip hitting the absolute back end of your throat, making you gag for some sort of air into your lungs.

Your movements begin to slump as you feel wonwoo start twitching inside your mouth, his hand on your hair slowly relieving itself, while the veins on his cock go from strained to a relaxed state. And with that without a single warning, he shoots all his load into your cavity, some of it already making its way down your throat and the rest of it dripping down onto your lap.

"So fuckin pretty" wonwoo opens his eyes to now look at the picture he has painted in front of him - the cum stained face of his bratty girlfriend, dried out tears still pooling at the corner of her eyes while his juices leaked down her maroon lips.

"You came, but what about me wonu?" your panties were leaking wet from your own slick, pussy throbbing from the heat building up inside your stomach, wanting to be filled up by the warmth of wonwoo's cock.

“If you want to cum you have to beg, love” wonwoo's hands land on your shoulders again to pick you up from the praying position of worshipping his dick, and pushing you onto the bed, buckling up for the long night that's about to ensure now.

[softonshanks]

Which character in one piece do you think has the best design?

hey! thank you for the question, I think it's very interesting. As someone who as a degree in literature and also in creative writing I can't help but give you two different answers, a short one and a more articulated one, hope you won't mind! Short one: Brook (i just think he is super cool), Ace (I'm in love with his freckles, sorry not sorry) and Luffy (I'm a sucker for those who are kind and I think Oda in his design was able to project an unusual and adorable kidness for a draw). Long one: The one thing you learn over time, whether it is studying fiction or any other piece of media, it's the importance of developing a character whose characteristics are evident not only by his words or actions, but also by his appearence. One of the reason I really appreciate One Piece, not being a particular anime or manga fan myself, is especially the symbolism.

Let's take Fujitora for example, which - in my useless and humble opinion - is a perfect type of character with a design that serves more than its basic purpose.

Fujitora’s design is one of understated power and humility. His blindness is an immediate link to the Roman goddess of Justice. Iustitia (her latin name) was introduced by emperor Augustus, and even if she was not a very old deity in the Roman pantheon, was one of the most celebrated. She had a bandage on her eyes, thus representing her impartiality. Fujitora’s blindness is a key symbolic element of his design, representing his commitment to true justice—justice that is not swayed by appearances or prejudice.

His sword cane is another important symbol; it signifies both his power and his restraint. Fujitora could easily wreak havoc with his gravity powers, but his cane suggests that he chooses to walk a measured, careful path. The traditional elements of his attire, combined with his Marine coat, indicate his respect for tradition and order, in the sense of the true and old values they have to follow to be righteous. His design aligns perfectly with his character as a man of deep conviction and moral integrity. His calm, composed appearance belies the immense power he wields. Fujitora's simple, dignified appearance allows his actions and words to take center stage, making his character memorable not just for his power, but for his profound sense of duty and morality.

Sorry for the long reply, I just liked to dive in this question, I love talking about narrative techniques way too much

[fumifooms]

Marchil crumbs part 5

Part 1 - Part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 6 - part 7

The anime has come and since I have my shipping goggles on I am going to notice so much. This part will be less spoilery for anime onlys (tho if you want to see me talk about why I ship them and why they’re complementary this is not a good part to start with haha). Edit: After completing this part I can confirm it’s fully anime-onlys friendly and spoiler-free! For manga veterans though there are still some fun tidbits to be found, some recontextualisations and new extra content.

Holy shit guys they’re mirroring each other in the mural and reaching out to each other AND looking towards each other?!!!! Their pose is so striking and like perfectly align?! Which means it was so intentional and the staff wanted to highlight them (for an aesthetic and/or narrative purpose I’m sure but it happened)! I will never let this go we won so fucking hard let’s goooooo we are so back

Character foils!! Dynamic duo!!

Soulmates!!

In the opening at 1:16 he looks at her to see if she’s really going to it as the most critical of monster food & muster up courage to dig into it himself lmao… "Marcille doesn’t look too grossed out, she’s picky so this food must be fine then" Aka treating her as a poison taster/good cuisine judge lmao

Doodle from the animation director (source). I should translate it but I’m procrastinating on it so uh director’s brotp? Anyways they hanging out look at them :]

Laios is thinking to himself there (he’s the one saying the subs), and in the meantime Marcille and Chilchuck talk, likely figuring out the money situation. Strategizing duo back at it again not wasting a second

In the beginning of ep 1, when Marcille is rambling about where they could go to get food and what to grab, Chilchuck listens with a big smile & even closes his eyes as they walk. The implication is that he’s thinking about food, but man the scene hits different now that it’s voiced and I remember that indeed Chilchuck is closing his eyes to her voice and enjoying hearing her talk and ramble. I may be too far gone into the marchil pit

I feel like already they’ve come far from when Chilchuck dreaded being alone with Shuro and Marcille, waiting for the Toudens and Namari to arrive.

Ok this might actually be smth I’m gonna complain about but I feel like blushes have been drawn too vividly so far. Why does Chilchuck look like he’s confessing when he tells her she’s not a burden and he didn’t mean to make her feel that way. It almost comes across as "Woah she cares what I think?" 💀 The banter ensuing is of course also great

Ep 2 was an episode centered on them both that had the "Magic/Traps are my domain, don’t interfere!" parallel… And now with ep 3 we’re back to them being haters together. That’s her emotional support man

In ep 4, it doesn’t show well with a screenshot but when Senshi talks about his unmanned vegetable stand with a treasure chest, while in the manga Marcille and Chilchuck both think the same thing, "That’s why that treasure chest akways had money in it…", but in the anime instead they literally finish each other’s thought. Talk about being on the same wavelength.

Ep 5 is a marchil goldmine actually, it showcases perfectly how much of a package deal they are lol. Always sticking close to each other. Glancing at each other during meals… They literally nod at each other before they try a bite to steel themselves. They exchange a serious thoughtful glance when Laios talks about Falin truly being gone atm. They argue a bit but they go right back to sitting right next to each other after the meal <3 My god I can’t deal with them they are so…… "Hate this bitch, not my friend" 3 secs later "Heyy bestie!!" Also he’s worried he brought her mood down after mentioning Falin. Made a post about ep 5 collecting even more screenshots.

Episode 6 my hero my beloved… Again I made a post about the ep collecting all my screenshots here, and even a clip! But this IS the marchil crumbs masterpost thus I must collect the major ones here as well. First of all, fun staff drawings for the first screening!

I already posted a screenshot from the trailer of when Chil had his head on his knees sitting next to her, but after seeing episode 5 I think it’s a fun and interesting trend to notice that they sit next to each other way unnecessarily close wow. They continue to banter a ton, she continues to be very casual with touch, and they’re really cute! I love just how much Marcille blushed damn- It’s really cute too when you remember with the bicorn chapter that Chilchuck teases Marcille BECAUSE he enjoys getting a rise out of her, flustering her and seeing her reactions. I support the teasing -> laughing because her reaction is over the top all-Chilchuck economy. Also she apologizes for having let him go alone and be gone for so long by helping him with sewing his cowl… Cuties

She looked so happy when he opened up about his age!… And then seemed… Disappointed? When he "truly was just a kid". "So you really are a kid! How boring…" This implies that her intent was to tease him for funsies… Ok lads we reached 30 pics see you next post, I’m gonna cover the "wake up clumsy head" manga-anime differences and we’re gonna go back to our usual spoilers yummy schedule.

Here’s Marcille cosplaying as a succubus in the newest Daydream Hour… She may not be a half-foot or have deep-set eyes but let’s be real I think he’d explode

part 6 here!!

[livelaughghoul]

Lewis Hamilton - Personality and Career Tarot Reading

Disclaimer: This is for entertainment purposes only, nothing observed or taken away from this should be considered fact. As a reminder, I know fuck all about Formula 1, I just like fast cars and have a dumb amount of knowledge of astrology and tarot.

Here is the reading for Lewis, and let me just say, I think I love him. Genuinely, he seems like such a warm and loving man, that carries so much passion and drive with him that I am down bad. I think that there is a lot of balance too, between the two personalities. It’s really interesting because I see a lot of aspects of his birth chart here too. Outwardly a lot is going on in terms of warmth, passion, and drive, and then inwardly we have sensitivity and introspection. 

While I have not aligned myself with any driver or team or anything, I think that Lewis may be my favorite because his chart and reading are honestly calming. Is this the best way to pick someone to support? Probably not, but who is going to stop me? No one, that's who. 

Outward Personality: The Sun

Lewis Hamilton, the man that you are, has me down notoriously bad. Outwardly Lewis is this source of knowledge to others and offers so much reassurance to those in need. He wants to understand the view of others, and what shapes his views as well. I get the vibe that this is the reason he attracts so many people, the Sun is a source of warmth, comfort, confidence, and finding your truth. It’s being able to hold yourself to high standards but forgive yourself when you don’t reach those standards. 

Inward Personality: Knight of Cups 

I love this because it compliments his birth chart perfectly. Buried under the outward personality there is this sensitive soul that craves love and affection, it’s someone searching for a safe area to let themselves process things and work through the emotions that they are experiencing. I think that there is a lot of peace and comfort in chaos with this too. There is so much confidence in the self that he feels that there is no issue with chaos, he almost thrives in it. 

Future Career: Queen of Pentacles reversed, and Five of Pentacles reversed. 

Pentacles are connected to career and finances, so the fact that I pulled two pentacles here is fitting. I’m not super concerned with the reversal position of either of them, because I think that Lewis has already established himself, so even if there is any delay or conflict, he knows what he needs to do to address it and work on it. 

There is going to be a change in the dynamic between Lewis and Charles, I think that they are both going to have to get used to there being two well-known and dominant drivers on the same team. I think that Lewis being as in touch with his emotions as he is though, isn’t going to be too much of an issue, if anything, I think the issues would come more from Charles than anything. Lewis is going to come into the team, offer a newer perspective, and become an integral part. 

The Five of Pentacles to me is more of the potential hardship that is going to come, I think that there is going to be a period in the upcoming career with Ferrari when he struggles to get into the swing of things. This is probably going to be seen through conflict within the team, possibly disobeying team orders and the potential for medical/health-related challenges. I can see this lasting maybe a handful of races and then things are just going to click into place and things just fit. 

[nekonanamii]

All for the best pt. 2 — Geto Suguru x Fem! Reader

I don’t condone irl cheating but for the purpose of the story let’s enjoy this p*rn without a plot (pov you’re the real estate agent in the previous fic)

Geto Suguru was in the market to buy a new apartment, having recently been promoted and being given a significantly higher pay grade— of course he wanted something more lavish. It just so happens that you were his real estate agent <3

He says he’s looking for a apartment for him and his girlfriend. But where is this girlfriend he speaks of? The man says she’s busy tending to her boss’ every whim. Says it’s more than just work at this point, he feels like he’s the other man in the relationship. You think to yourself, how on earth could his girlfriend ignore this beautiful man? She must be crazy.

This poor man, he at least needs a little bit of pampering, yeah? After all, he isn’t getting much attention from his dear girlfriend :(

You made sure to have many apartment options for your client. You also made sure to wear you sexiest and tightest skirts every time you’d show him a new place <3

And each time you felt his eyes take in your body a little bit longer than he previously did.

Every chance you’d get, you would brush your fingers on his hand. You’d even go so far as to caress his muscular arms as you show him the newest additions of the apartment you were having him view.

If it wasn’t painfully obvious by now, you noticed how the tent in his pants was growing harder and harder to hide. Your dear client would constantly excuse himself to the restroom every now and then <3 How cute you thought, you were made painfully aware that this sexy man had a large dick. Oh how you wish you could ease the burden on him and drain his balls for him <3

Your dearest client finally has an apartment he says he wants to put an offer on but says he needs a little bit more convincing, after all the rent was pretty steep but the cityscape view was to die for.

You take him to the bathroom to show him the latest shower feature it had, but whoops you accidentally turn it on a bit too much and now you’re wet. Your white button down top is essentially see-through as it’s drenched in water. Suguru swears his eyes nearly budged out of their sockets seeing how perfectly plump your tits were and not to mention how perky and painfully hard your nipples were.

“Oops my bad- I didn’t know it would turn on all the way~” lies. You knew what you were doing. After all, you purposely didn’t wear a bra today, The tent in his pants was impossible to ignore at this point and you could see the visible discomfort he had on his face from how hard his dick pressed into the fabric of his pants.

You lazily unbuttoned your shirt and shimmied your way out of your tiny little pencil skirt, and that was it for him. He needed you. You started with his belt then worked his zipper down bringing his pants and boxers down to his ankles. Suguru was at a loss for words. God you looked so sexy. He’d be lying if he said be hasn’t been fisting himself to the thought of you after each viewing you had with him.

You licked the head of his cock— god it was bigger than you imagined. Incredibly thick too. Slowly you bottomed out and sucked his dick at an increasing pace. Suguru swears he saw stars. He grabs a fist full of your hair guides his cock deeper into your throat.

“I hope I’m the only client you treat this way” he says panting,

You pull out for a second and tell him “of course, I’ve never had a client as sexy as you”

Suguru pulls you up and your back is on his chest. He reaches down your clothed pussy and pushes the tiny little cloth covering your slit to the side “You wanted this didn’t you huh?” Suguru works his fingers on your pussy while your hand grabs onto his aching hard member. You align it to your entrance while he kisses you from behind, your dear client is now fucking you from behind with such force you swear your knees are gonna buckle.

“Fuck you’re such a fucking minx you wanted this so bad didn’t you huh?” All you could do was say yes over and over and Suguru tells you he’s about to cum, you face him with his cock deep inside you.

“Please please please need your cum in me please oh fuck” is all you can say.

Suguru can’t fucking believe it. Before he could do anything he’s shooting ropes into you and you’re seeing stars. You’re both coming down from your high while kissing each other through it.

“So I guess I’ll be taking that as a sure offer?” you say

And just like that, your affair with Suguru begins. It’s not your fault his dear girlfriend doesn’t doesn’t keep him on a leash.

🫢