#when I do portraits its fine actually it looks good

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Two

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Part One ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

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A/N: Still establishing some more lore and feelings. Currently, the Batfamily has two yanderes. With more yandere’s being revealed outside of Gotham and some in Gotham about to start falling into obsession. Also, my favorite Reader is one who is manipulated into thinking the collar around their neck is a necklace. Will be working on Part Three, but it might take longer because we have obsessions starting and Reader starting to get to a breaking point.

Warning(s): Yandere themes, Obsessive behavior

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Poor Reader has it rough. Not too rough, but still life kinda sucks and they wanna go home now, please and thank you.

But, as always, things start to brighten up a notch or two.

Reader is thriving at school, sure they can’t hang out with their friends, but their friends understand (which honestly kinda odd, but they’ll roll with it)

There is a small issue.

Reader is a metahuman. (I know, shocking. So unique.)

Reader controls the weather, at will or with extreme emotions (oooooo interesting)

Back in their hometown, Reader didn’t have to hide said abilities that much. (Hell, more than a few people knew about it. Such an understanding community.)

Here in Gotham, in a practical stranger’s house, they’re not gonna to that.

Which is fine. Fine fine fine

Okay, so Reader is tense. Doesn’t have a healthy outlet, and is bottling things up. So that storms brewing. Gonna be fun when that comes back to bite Reader in the ass.

But, things are looking up. (I swear this time!)

Duke and Cass are hanging out with Reader more. They’re sorta becoming a trio of amigos.

Though, they do disappear often. For long periods of time.

Reader is pretty sure Bruce is Batman, at this point.

They’re not stupid, it’s in their damn genetics to be somewhat intelligent, so to speak.

But, no one actually tells reader. It’s lead to some awkward situations of them going silent when Reader enters the room, or the manor being unusually empty after everyone went to the ‘library’.

(Smalltown doesn’t mean stupid, bunch of jerks.)

It just makes reader feel even less like they’re part of the family. Even Alfred disappears for a time, leaving Reader completely alone with nothing, but portraits and old wood furniture.

No one says anything. No one mentions a single thing. (Am I not worthy of the secret? Why did you drag me here only to ignore me?)

Bruce continue to bounce between ignoring and coddling. Yet gets upset if Reader does the same. (Making them anxious.)

Dick pops back in, immediately showering Reader and excessive amounts of affection before shooing them off cause he’s gotta take care of somethings. (It makes reader feel like a pet in a degrading way.)

Jason gets caught harassing Reader by Alfred. Which leads to a screaming match between Jason and Bruce. It’s a violent one, but Alfred drags Reader out of the room before they can see. (But they hear things breaking and It’s terrifying.)

After that, Reader is extremely cautious around Jason. Which for some reason makes him angry and more violent. (Why does he hate me? This is scary.)

Stephanie starts to come around. Slowly. They’re getting there. (Stephanie still prefers to hangout with Tim and Tim…)

Tim ignores Reader the most. Will not talk to Reader at all. Which sucks because Teader thinks they would total get along. (But, nope. All they get is the cold shoulder.)

Reader just avoids Damian like the plague.

Reader talks more often to her other half-brother living miles away than the one she’s currently living with. (That’s gonna piss Damian off later)

While Barbara remains cordial.

Life is moving on. We’re good. Everything’s good.

Wait? Gotham Academy is having its own student Gala? That sounds amazing! Getting dolled up, having a night with friends. Maybe…. Having a date escort them….

And the best part is, Bruce says Reader can go.

Now, Cass and Duke and Damian won’t be going. Which is a bummer, but Reader understands.

Bruce even buys reader something to wear.

An obnoxious designer outfit. (A couture ruffle monstrosity that’s all the rage on the runway.)

It’s so terrible you have to laugh. (Just to hide how upsetting it is that no one actually knows what you like here or bothers to ask.)

Reader even shows Stephanie and they share a laugh. (It’s great. Reader needed that laugh.)

But, there’s no way Reader is going to wear this. So, Reader calls their childhood friend and favorite fashion designer.

Commissioning a more mature outfit. (Reader is almost grown, time to take a break from the ruffles and embrace the sexy.)

BFF comes through and then a week later someone shows up at Wayne Manor. (Damn that was fast.)

Someone from Reader’s hometown, and this starts to set things in motion.

BFF’s older brother, Reader’s childhood crush, shows up holding a dress and driving Daddy’s old truck. Which he hands Reader the keys too.

Nana and Grand Daddy, the Step Grandparents, wanted to surprise reader with a gift from home. (Remind Reader how much better living in a smalltown is compared to somewhere like Gotham. How much their town adores them and misses them.)

Poor oblivious Reader. Not realizing their smalltown is so desperate to have them back. (Reader was their’s first, they know Reader best.)

Nor how desperate Gotham is going to be to make force reader to stay.

[star2fishmeg]

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴡʀᴀᴘs

[4.4k] Pairing | bsf!Luke Hughes x bsf!afab!reader Summary | luke and y/n are tired of feeling left behind and help each other out…but in the company of their friends. but it makes a good story, right? Warnings | 18+ smut, kinda slow start, best friends to lovers, long haired luke!!! Bc I love long hair, umich!luke, (basically public) fingering, swearing, appearance and sex insecurities, tiny bit of angst but not really, mutual pining, making out Authors Note | im in such a luke brainrot it’s painful, this was supposed to be a blurb but I can’t control myself but anyway, this is my first hockey fic i hope its alright. Based on this after hours post! This is a work of fiction, please remember that my dudes

Luke felt like a creep. But she looked so at peace sitting on the lake's docks, feet dangling and toes skimming the water's surface. While she was nothing but a silhouette in the distance, the sunset cascading on the horizon complimenting her like a portrait in a museum. He also wasn’t sure on how long he’d been standing at the sliding patio doors, the UMich boy’s voices blended out into a white noise while his mind wandered to crevices of thoughts he’d been avoiding for months, but anything to escape Ethan and Luca’s conversations about girlfriend stories. Yes, he was happy for them, found it cute in fact, but when was it his turn to have that chapter in his life? He could have it if he didn’t panic and fumble at every party they threw, just a bit more alcohol and maybe he’d have a chance but like all victims of tragedy, no one would ever be her. Could ever replace her or even substitute her. So, while his curls bounced in the gentle breeze, Luke Hughes admired the only girl in the University of Michigan that’s ever made his heart ache and contort in bittersweet ways.

With a firm slap to his back, Luke’s daydream snapped back to reality, to Dylan Duke grinning and wiggling his eyebrows. The most painful thing Dylan had to endure since he met Luke was watching his friend follow y/n like a lost puppy begging for attention, and there was nothing more he wanted than for the two to just kiss already. They almost did, once, at someone’s birthday party when they both nursed a bottle of tequila. But Dylan never told them that, he wasn’t entirely sure if he dreamt it, if he was honest.

“Just go talk to her, be honest,” Dylan said with a light chuckle, nudging Luke towards the porch steps.

Luke’s legs stopped stiff, and spun to face Dylan in protest, “No! What do I even say? ‘Oh, hey y/n I know we’ve been friends for a while, but I’m in love with you haha hope this doesn’t make it awkward’? Like, come on.” With the way Dylan’s grin turned almost menacing, Luke felt his heart almost stop, his stupidity catching up with him, “This stays between us, Duker.”

He groaned and watched Dylan giggle his way back inside. Wingman or menace? Fine line, but at least he was better than Jack. Who quite literally tried trapping him and y/n in a closet when he found out, hoping for the best. Perhaps Dylan would actually help him get somewhere, he’d spent many parties coaxing Luke into making a move but Luke being the humble soul he took pride in, let her have her peace. Oh, how much he regretted it every time he heard her laugh because of another guy.

Thankfully the docks were at the far end of his garden, out of earshot and almost out of sight, if you weren’t spying. He stood silently, just taking in her very existence alone. If she weren’t wearing his hoodie so proudly, he would’ve sat down by now but the heat that flushed into his cheeks prominently just had to ease before he could show his face. Maybe she’d find it cute that his face flushed so easily, or maybe she’d think he was a fool for thinking he had a chance. Girls were hard to read, so many codes and hints, he couldn’t keep up with them all and God forbid you had an ugly code name. Watching her like that did raise the thought, what was his code name? Did he really want to know?

“I can feel you starin’,” her voice chimed, their eyes meeting as she craned her neck, “you gonna join or just stand?”

Luke’s lips pulled into his famous half-smirk, “I like lookin’ at pretty things, can you blame a man?” He sat next to her, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder like they usually did, the weight of his boldness lifting off his chest. “What’s runnin’ through that mind of yours?”

“Who said I was thinking about anything? Maybe I was finally catching a break from the zoo. Maybe I was thinking that you need a haircut.” Her laugh was like music to his ears, her voice his favourite song and every word that rolled off her tongue felt like ecstasy surging through him and freezing the world around them.

Spending a summer in a lake house was the only way y/n ever wanted to live. An oasis of serenity and laughs, endless memories, and an escape. But while she dipped her toes in the water, watching her reflection ripple, the everlasting thought that it was fleeting crawled its way back to the surface whether she wanted it to or not. The boys had been doing this longer than she had, it was her first time at the lake house and possibly her last. But there was nothing wrong with enjoying it while it lasted, being trapped under the same roof as the boys wasn’t as bad as she’d assumed. Except for the smells, they were straight-up disrespectful. Would she still love it as much if she was with other friends? Hard to say, if Luke was there, everything would be fine. Maybe a couple more girls would’ve been nice too, though.

“Please, you’re staring blankly, don’t try me.” Luke scoffed playfully, shoulder gently nudging hers as she rolled her eyes, unable to resist a gleaming smile. As much as she wanted to rebuttal, he was right. They’d met on the first week of university, Luke starting hockey practice and y/n starting as their new social girl and since then the pair of them had been two peas in a pod. Completely enamoured with each other, attached at the hip, where Luke went, he’d bring y/n, his person.  “Wait, you think I need a haircut? Is it that bad?”

She laughed, Luke, stooping so she could thread her fingers through his unruly curls gently, something only she was allowed to do, “Nah, I like your hair long, cut it and I’ll cut you.” They pulled back, sitting in their original postures and watched the sun’s pinks fade to oranges, “I was thinking about how many girls you’ve brought here.”

He blinked twice, turning his head slowly to face her and to his surprise his eyes met hers. There was a gloss to them, illuminated brightly by the sunset but like glass as if she were about to break. Heart beating in his ears, he licked his lips, almost quivering when he began to speak.

“Just you.” His voice just above a whisper, husky, “Only you. Always you.” Their gazes lingered, and his eyes fluttered to her lips for just a split second before he found himself licking his lips again, feeling his throat dry at the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. His heart ached, he didn’t have half the guts the Fantilli brothers did, if he had then maybe he would’ve at least wrapped his arm around her. Instead, he sat like he was paralysed, just shoulder to shoulder as she rubbed her bare foot against his leg, their skins touching, lighting little fires up his body and his stomach gaining a warmth he’d only felt in the after-hours of his bedroom.

“Lu?” she rested her head on his shoulder, staring back out towards the horizon, “Do you ever feel like you’re so far behind the people around you? Like you’re missing out.”

Luke leaned his head against hers, almost nuzzling into it as he thought. It was a heavy question, one that’d been weighing on her for a while. Or he assumed, considering she’d never openly asked the group. That’s what made him feel special. Her feet hung still, ending their teasing game and just fell limp. He exhaled, could he let his pride go and agree? Or could he completely one-up himself and disagree, which made him braver? He loathed the storms she started in him, thoughts he never imagined he would think in his hockey brain. One girl could change his entire train of thought, change his heartbeat, change his mood. One woman he pined like a lost puppy over.

“Sometimes. What do you mean?”

“Like, all my friends have these insane hook-ups and embarrassing sex stories and I have nothing. Yeah, I’ve had boyfriends before, but I was younger and stupid then. I go out with my friends and I’m basically invisible to any guy who approaches us, just feel unlovable. And now here I am, twenty years old and a fucking virgin with little experience and no wild stories.” She vented, barely taking a breath as the words spilt from her mouth. Luke’s chest twisted, his face softening when she snuggled into his side. “I don’t know where I’m going wrong, Lu.”

He paused and bit his lip when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her body into his chest. She melted into his touch, getting a whiff of his woody, amber cologne, her favourite one at that, the one he always wore. She’d never had the chance to properly relish in his touch, was his chest always this firm? Arms always bring this much security? Fuck, when did his hand get so sexy when on her body, gliding down her arm to nestle in the curve of her waist. With her ear pressed to him, the thundering in his chest surrendered his cover entirely. Cool and collected Luke Hughes was secretly a bumbling mess.

“I get you.” he finally spoke, ears burning when her finger traced shapes on his thigh, “My entire life has been hockey, so not a lot of space for experiences either. Not enough time for relationships between practice and games, development camps and time with family. A lot of the girls who liked me didn’t really like that. That or they liked my brothers and friends more, they are a lot more attractive than me, so I don’t blame them. M’just average.”

Y/n pulled away almost instantly, her eyebrows knitted and jaw agape. For a moment she thought she heard him wrong, ‘a lot more attractive than me’, ‘just average’? Delving into Luke’s psyche turned out to be an entirely different road trip than she had thought, heartstrings tugged as her lips fell to a frown. Who in the world made him feel like that? Who did she need to hunt down? But then again, Luke’s blood boiled hearing how insignificant she felt and who exactly made her think that to start with?

“Luke Hughes you are not average! You’re the hottest guy I know!” she yelped, the hand that drew gentle patterns now clutching his thigh tight. Luke gulped but didn’t retract away from the noise. His brain was too busy short-circuiting over the fact her fingers were dangerously close to his crotch, doing his best to contain himself with slow breaths, “They just didn’t give you a chance, if they really knew you, they’d be heads over heels. You’re so fucking smart, and passionate. And-and if they saw you smile for real, not a half-smile, your full smile with your teeth, the one that feels like a warm summer’s day. It’s their loss, they’ll never know how sweet you are, that after a bad game, you want steak and head scratches, that you’re sentimental as fuck- like you wear that Yankees hat because Quinn got it for you when you fell ill and couldn’t make the game. You’re not average.”

Luke blinked, once, twice and thrice as her eyes bored into his, glazed with fire as the words tumbled from her mouth and circled his head. He watched the way her body rose and fell as she caught her breath, the grip on his thigh tightening and heat rising through his body. He felt the sweat building on the back of his neck, his collar suddenly becoming too tight. She thought he was hot? She remembered such little details about him like they’d known each other since they were kids. The hand around her waist slid to her lower back, his thumb rubbing the fabric of her (his) hoodie unconsciously.

He smiled, his warm smile she mentioned, where his eyes wrinkled and his chin tilted up triumphantly, “The hottest guy you know, huh?”

Y/n’s face dropped. Never in her life had she experienced her heart stop the way it did hearing those words. She stared like a deer in headlights, she slipped up and the heat rushing to her cheeks burned. This is what happens when you let your feelings take over, you make a fool of yourself in front of the one person who would never want to. She sighed, hung her head and hid her face in her hands, the butterflies in her stomach choking her when Luke let out a saccharine chuckle that made all the flowers bloom.

Large, warm hands wrapped around her wrists with a feather touch, and slowly pulled her hands away from her face and into her lap, soothing her nerves with a gentle rubbing of her knuckles with his thumbs. Although his hands felt clammy, the tingling in his stomach became too addicting to care about it too much anymore.

“Don’t hide,” she was radiant under what was left of the tangerine hues, eyes almost sparkling, “let me see that pretty face.”

She hesitantly raised her head, eyes meeting his and her body relaxed. She had no idea why she was so embarrassed, he hadn’t gagged, laughed in her face nor had he physically repulsed. Instead, he looked at her like she’d hung out the stars for him, wide eyes with rose-tinted ears.

“I think you’re very pretty too. Beautiful even, I-“ he hesitated, “you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about kissing you, asking you out. Honestly, the idea of you rejecting me is terrifying so I never did, plus, I’ve never kissed anyone before, and I didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

Her eyes fluttered to his lips, the world around them falling silent until it was just them in their own bubble. Luke gulped, his eyeline following the way she flickered between his eyes and his mouth before he found their bodies leaning into one another, noses ghosting. His hands released her wrists, one arm snaking around her waist sending an electric tingle through her veins and holding her firmly close. They’d been this close before, sure. Multiple occasions of having his arms around the back of the sofa they sat snug on, arm hooked around her shoulders because some guy couldn’t get the memo at bars, in fact, the root cause of their problem was undeniably because everyone assumed they were together except them.

Y/n’s palm held his cheek tenderly, the hot, carnal desire to devour the boy only being released from its cage when he melted into her touch as if he was opening his doors to vulnerability.

“I can teach you if you like,” she whispered, her thumb tracing across his bottom lip. Luke’s fingers gripped her waist as if she couldn’t be any closer than she already was, but he couldn’t risk letting her slip from his grasp again. He wanted to erase all those other guys who’d kissed her, he would be the last guy on Earth to taste the lips that words and giggles laced with a honey-like sweetness that cradled his heart.

“God, please-“  his heart beat twice as fast, y/n leaning in, closing the gap between them and pressing her lips gently to his. If he were to die right there, he’d die the happiest man alive. Her lips were soft and warm, igniting every firework inside of him and adrenaline shaking him back to life. He could do this for hours, drinking in her citrus fragrance, lips mimicking the way she moved hers against his. If she was a match, he was kerosene and he’d let her set him ablaze over and over if it meant he could feel like the only man in the world until the end of time.

They pulled away, eyes fluttering open to an exchange of giggly smiles. Despite it being a closed-mouth kiss, nothing extra, just soft and sweet, Luke’s thoughts raced at a million miles per hour. All the weight on his shoulders lifted and he nuzzled into her palm, placing a kiss on it.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, his puppy-like gaze almost distracting her from how his skin burned pink in her palm. But in a way, all her previous anxieties dissipated like dust in the wind, tummy flipping at the pathetically sweet and lovestruck expression spread on Luke’s face, “Your face is so red. Are you okay?-”

“-Can we do that again?” He pleaded, quickly, desperately, a certain yearning feeling on his lips that he couldn’t quite describe, except that he needed to taste her again. He needed more, so much more to quench his thirst, a kind of fuzziness he felt in his core.

“Uh- yeah, let me show you what a real kiss is.” No hesitation was needed, y/n’s hand slid from his cheek to the nape of his neck, fingers carding through his curls as she roughly connected their lips again, messier, teeth chattering from the impact. Luke’s other hand found comfort on her thighs, pulling them over his lap and giving gentle squeezes, moaning when y/n bit his lower lip. He opened his mouth with ease, failing to hold back another moan when her tongue lapped his. He wasn’t sure how to react, he’d never made out with anyone and it’s not like his brothers would’ve explained it well either. So, he repeated her movement, his tongue dancing with hers with saliva lubricating their lips each time they dove back in to devour each other. Y/n tugged his curls lightly, pulling him closer, savouring the kindling arousal leaking into her panties with the way he craved her.

Luke pulled away to breathe, his chest heavy but shorts becoming tight with the intense and fiery eye contact that screamed nothing but lust, “You,” he kissed her again, fervently, “taste,” another kiss, “amazing.” He mumbled into her lips and their tongues stirred again, whimpers drawing from the back of her throat when his hand travelled further up her thigh, under her shorts and found solace on the skin only he could touch. Any further and she couldn’t promise she wouldn’t pounce, her underwear was soaked through and sticking to her folds and even one measly brush on her clit would open the floodgates.

A foreign burst of confidence washed over him, and he detached their lips, a string of saliva between them and her hand still tugging at his curls and whether intentional or not, he discovered something carnal clawing away inside him. Wetting his lips, he dove into her neck, planting wet kisses along her column and nipping in the hope of hearing her mewl again. Y/n tilted her head to the side, giving him free rein over her skin and her jaw slacking, whining his name with her thighs clenching together for any kind of friction. As he began to run his hand along her thigh, his pocket vibrated continuously, earning a growl to rumble from his throat.

“Fuck, why’d you stop?” y/n whined, hand falling from his hair to his chest. Luke pulled his phone from his pocket with a disgruntled look, of course, his moment was ruined. Swiping the notification away, he clicked his tongue, sliding his phone back into his shorts.

His arms wrapped around her waist, and looked back into her adoring yet disappointed eyes, “Dylan wants to know if we’re joining them for a movie.”

“I’m quite happy staying here with you.”

“Who says we have to watch the whole movie?”

Silence hung over the living room, only the TV blaring and the light crunching of popcorn from different directions. The lights were off, just the TV and three boys crammed on one sofa, and three plus y/n on the other. Luke, y/n, Rutger and Adam on the sectional directly opposite the TV, Luke occupying the end with the chaise for his legs, and y/n sat between them and huddled under a blanket. Rutger sat in the middle with Adam on the furthest end. Dylan, Luca and Ethan huddled together on the sofa adjacent to the TV, popcorn littered between them from missing mouths and flinching.

Luke’s hands wrapped around her waist, keeping her snug against his chest while she slowly chewed Haribo’s, feeding them to him now and then. While his heart skipped beats, feeling like a meadow of tulips blooming in the Spring, y/n’s wiggling against his crotch lured all the heat and butterflies from earlier straight back to his stomach, sending it into twists and turns. Heat flushed to his neck when she pushed her arse back into him, in an innocent attempt to readjust. A deep exhale through his nose and his hands slithered to her thighs, fingers kneading the flesh like dough as his head dipped into her shoulder, breath hot on the skin and making her hairs stand on edge.

“Stop wigglin’, pretty girl,” he whispered into the shell of her ear, placing a kiss, “you’re drivin’ me crazy.”

She froze, body falling limp into his as he ran his hands under her hoodie, his stiffened cock poking into her backside as she caught on to what his problem was. The sex-deprived whore in her awakened with a jolt, his cock solid because of her, and there was nothing she wanted more than to feel him pressed up against her, unable to find his release and have the rasp of his voice reverberate through her being as her vibrator. 

“And if I don’t?” she whispered back, as close to him as possible without being heard. Instead of answering, Luke dipped his fingers down her shorts, middle finger brushing against her clothed clit. His eyes locked to the screen in front of him, resisting the urge to smirk when her breath hitched but continuing to glide his finger – in what was a lucky guess – over her bundle. She squirmed, clamping her thighs together, only to have them pried open by his free hand.

“Be a good girl and keep quiet, unless you want to be caught.” His playful tone sent chills down her spine, goosebumps swarming on her neck but melting into his touch. She plopped another sweet into her mouth, chewing intensely when Luke drew his long fingers away, only for her to feel them caress over her skin, cold on her warm body, and down her panties. To describe the sensation that zipped through her when the pad of his middle finger reunited with her clit would be the same shock if you were to be struck by lightning: sudden and sharp, rattling up the spine.

Y/n placed the bag of sweets in her lap, tucking both hands under the blanket with the hope of seeming less suspicious, but her hand skimmed down his arm and placed itself on his, slowly guiding his movements on her nub until he got the idea. Firm yet gentle circular movements, the slick seeping from her warm on his fingertips, so inviting he wished he could have a taste. She pulled the blanket to her chin, not only to cover Luke’s sudden mood but to form some form of distraction from the fuzzy feeling rising to her head. No, she’d never had this before, so the experience itself embraced her tight, addicting like nicotine.

He kissed her temple, two fingers sliding into her cunt almost perfectly, too perfect that another Haribo was abused between her teeth as her breathing struggled to remain neutral. The moan that would’ve slipped past if she hadn’t been concentrating would’ve been embarrassing enough. Luke began languid plunges into her, relishing in the way her walls squeezed his fingers tight, keeping shallow at first. The more her pussy swallowed him in their wetness, the faster his mind spiralled in greed and his pace sped up, y/n’s nails digging deep into his leg, leaving crescent shapes on the skin. The heat pooling in her stomach was riveting, knowing she would finally have an insane story to tell even more so. No one could say that Luke Hughes’ tongue tasted theirs like it was the best meal he’d ever lapped up and that he’d watched a movie with his friends while pushing the limits of both his and their sanity publicly.

With a rush of adrenaline and her nails marking him, he buried his fingers deep into her cunt, driving swiftly and curling in places that made her wriggle against him, his free hand having to hold her hips still with a bruising grip and his cock begged for attention in his shorts. Y/n popped two more sweets in her mouth, relying on their gummy nature to suppress the moans that threatened to tear through her as the knot inside her came dangerously close to snapping with the way he bullied her pussy with his bare hands. His breathing fell deep and shuddered, his heart infatuated with the ecstasy of finger-fucking the woman of his dreams in front of an entire room of his friends hammered in his chest while his face struggled to stay indifferent and jaw tight like his cock isn't throbbing violently and straining against her arse. Like she wasn’t bucking her hips into his touch like he couldn’t tell that her heart was going haywire because of just him alone. If this was what foreplay was like, the idea of piledriving balls deep in her until she couldn’t remember her name was divine.

He dragged out his last pumps, the knot in her stomach snapping and coating his fingers in hot, sticky release, kissing her temple upon her body physically shuddering. Y/n pulled the blanket up to her chin as if she had shivered naturally, stuffing her mouth into the fluffy material. Luke pulled his fingers out, wiping the residue on his shorts, practically drooling over the image of milking her dry. His arms snaked around her waist, snuggling close. Y/n sighed, slumping back into him. On the outside Luke was his collected and cool self, his breathing stable and attention on the movie, the heat in his face and hands that rested on her stomach, soothing her heart rate screamed that he was the happiest guy in the room. With every gentle stroke of his thumb on the flesh of her stomach, her heart soothed and her eyelids became increasingly heavier.

"Was that story worthy?" He whispered, kissing her cheek sweetly.

Luke’s pocket buzzed and he tutted, carefully sliding it from his pocket and unlocking it, trying his best to prevent the screen from blinding everyone.

Duker idk if ur freaky or brave u dog

Luke closed his phone and looked up towards Dylan, who sat with a shit-eating grin. He smiled and shook his head, mouthing a subtle, ‘this stays between us’.

[Masterlist]

[Requests CLOSED]

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[fcthots]

Hi! I m glad to see your inbox open again, last week I started having a Jason Todd brainrot (thanks to Pinterest for this) and when I type Jason Todd x reader on Tumblr your blog was one of the first ones I found (and the one whose most fics I spent the weekend reading 😅). Thank you so much for feeding my hiperfixation, you are talented and portrait Jason amazingly on your fics.

So now that your request are open, could you do a Jason x fem!reader with the prompt "Here! Take my jacket/coat". I love leather jackets and I would love to try Jackson's 😍

Btw, I am planning on showing on your inbox every once on a while. Could I ask for an anon emoji too, pretty please 🫶🏼?

Hey anon, good to have you

dealer's choice for emoji? bc then ur getting 🪽bc I think its cool

You swear you're gonna freeze to death. You and Jason ditched the gala not even 45 minutes after getting there. You booked it outside and argued on where you should sit like a married couple. The argument slowly derailed from there.

You tuck your arms closer around yourself. Your dress didn't exactly have a lot of fabric to keep you warm. "I realize now is a bad time to mention this, but I'm cold."

Jason looks at you like a cat that is thinking about how it's smarter than you. "I told you to bring a jacket."

"What jacket would match a gown, Jason? Huh? None! None is the correct answer!" You whisper shout, but your words have no real heat to them.

He crosses his arms. "Well maybe you shouldn't have worn such a skimpy dress!" You can see he's fighting off a smile from his own sarcasm.

"YOU PICKED OUT THE FUCKING DRESS!" You play along, but your voice trails off in a laugh.

He laughs when you laugh. "UGH. Fine. I guess you can have my jacket." He says it with faux annoyance and he's altogether stopped trying to suppress his smile.

After he dramatically shrugs off his jacket, he helps to slip it onto your shoulders, unable to suppress being a gentleman even for your fake fight.

Once it's snug on you, he takes a step back, eyes trailing over your form, looking at the dress he chose for you in his color (you lost a bet, but the dress was actually very nice and looked very good on you) and his jacket slipped over your shoulders.

After staring into your soul for a full minute, he finally opens his mouth. "New plan." You quirk an eyebrow before he continues. "We make a run for the manor and you take all of your clothes off."

You blink for a moment, processing his unexpected words. You nod. "Good plan. Slight issue: I am in heels."

"Princesses get carried. Let's go."

[exorcqism]

„𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆”

: ̗̀➛ 18+ CONTENT!!!

: ̗̀➛ afab!reader, lil bit of sex, nun too heavy. teasing, some whimpering, dom!reader. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; separuhpuding. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 3.1K

: ̗̀➛ plot aspects inspired by;; @selfishdoll (good ass writer,, i recommend)

* dark mode recommended

* do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; ngllll i was writing the smut in gym class. i was INTO it. but its nothing heavy…just a lil nasty nasty 🌚 this was my first time writing for choso BUT THIS MAN SO FINE. i hope ya enjoy ittttt

you and choso were roommates. it wasn’t surprising. you both went to the same college, you were good friends. nothing was wrong with that. but you were wondering what went wrong…why the two of you drifted apart.

“morning, choso!” you beamed at the 5’11 male sitting on the couch, his violet irises looking intently at his paper, loosely holding the pencil between his fingers. “Smoke Break-Dance” by JID played quietly on the speaker beside the tv, you noticed. you smiled a bit. choso must’ve been picking up on your music taste…or it was conveniently playing and he didn’t realize.

the male finally glanced up at you, registering your presence and lifted his hand, replacing actual words.

you plopped down beside him, making the side you sat on sink downward underneath him. his violet irises dragged to their left to look at you.

“whatcha doing?” you smile.

choso could never get over your soft voice and playful attitude. it always made him feel like he was doing something wrong. was he too boring? was it the fact that he hardly had any energy to do anything at all and he just laid around majority of the day? he didn’t know himself.

“writing…” he said quietly. “writing a poem…”

a couple months into your junior year of college was when he told you he loved you. he couldn’t explain himself but that’s what he was feeling all that time you stayed with him.

when you came around, he had a weird feeling in his chest when he saw you.

‘this body is betraying me’ he thought. he thought it was odd to be feeling this way about a human. a woman at that.

choso was a bit possessive of you. he enjoyed your company but grimaced at the men that came into your vicinity. the male watched from a distance, swallowing his urge to burst into a fit of rage but it would completely ruin his calm image.

“it’s fine,” yuji shrugged, waving his hand at his big brother, “that’s your girl, of course you’d be upset at another dude talking to her. it’s completely fine. don’t get so aggy.”

choso was happy to have his little brother, yuji there to comfort him when we was too nervous to confront you about the situation. from simple situations like this all the way to why he had an odd feeling between his legs when he kissed you. he didn’t think the rod that hung down in his lower area would be used for more than just using the bathroom….until yuji said so.

your “first time” was pretty interesting. it consisted of choso asking you if you were okay or if he was doing it right, to which you replied “yes” each time followed by a moan. you were wondering if he had done this before but you chose not to get into it.

more time goes by and then that’s when you realized that you were drifting apart.

choso was pursuing a career in art. drawing realistic portraits, using his heaven sent abilities to make drawings that looked like davinci had created them.

you were attempting to be a nurse, so you were off campus a lot, spending time at other hospitals to do “hands on” learning. neither of you had much time to talk to each other, though you sent texts back and forth assuring each other that everything was okay.

choso’s pupils retracted, hearing the sudden news of you wanting to break up with him. it was like he was going into shock.

“don’t you understand how much it would hurt me to see you go?” he said, his deep voice breaking. you never heard him sound so broken before. the moment almost made you cry yourself. the male gently took your hands, his sad eyes looking into yours, searching for an answer. but there was nothing.

“Y/N please…” you felt his grip on your hands get a bit tighter. you kept your head down, avoiding eye contact with him to refrain from making yourself cry in front of him.

you were gone and that was the end of it. you left your favorite person with his heart hurting, making him feel like he had to throw up. it was like his whole world had went cold, now that you weren’t in it.

two years passed and you haven’t seen choso. you were starting to forget about him. there were some physical features about him that you forgot too…like the way he looked bored all the time or the fact that he always had his hair in two buns and occasionally letting it all the way down.

you went on about your day while choso was probably in his room crying his eyes out, falling into a depression.

you heard a knock at your apartment door. you were confused at first because you weren’t expecting anyone to come over and a select few people knew where you lived. you put on a pair of joggers after walking around in nothing but an oversized hoodie and a pair of ankle socks.

the moment you opened the door, a set of hands clasped onto your waist like a corset and pulled you closer to the owner of those said hands. you were pulled into a really tight hug.

you melted in this person’s arms. their touch, the way they smelled, their warmth…you missed it. your arms wrapped around them, returning that hug. you could feel your scleras burning as tears began to form in your eyes.

memories of choso flooded back into your mind like a tsunami consuming an entire city. salty lines of tears slid down your cheeks and you held the male a bit tighter than he was holding you.

“i’m so sorry, cho.” you cried. “i didn’t mean to hurt you the way i did. i didn’t know what i was doing and—”

you were immediately cut off by a kiss. you had a storm of emotions swirling through your body, your eyes traveled up to the male after he pulled away from you.

a tired smile was flashed at you before you heard him say something just above a whisper, his deep voice startling you a bit.

you forgot about that.

“don’t apologize.”

“but i left you alone for so long. you aren’t upset? you not feeling some type of way about me?” your voice shaking from your recent crying.

“no, i’m not angry.” choso said, his hand sliding down your arm to hold yours. “it’s been two years…and i waited until you were ready.”

“i was told that i should be patient and i shouldn’t try to hold you back.” he added but his words only made you cry even more. he waited for you? he could’ve found so many other women and he waited two years for you?

“why did you wait? you could’ve found someone else to replace me, you know that?”

the violet eyed male just shrugged. “loyalty. if you needed a century, i’ll wait for you.” choso’s loyalty was that of a dog waiting for its owner to return after being gone for hours on end.

having nine other brothers, choso knew what loyalty was and it was something he valued heavily. but most importantly, he valued you. your safety. everything.

“good job, cho!” yuji grinned as he threw his arm around the taller male’s waist. choso’s head swung around, his hair flowing with him and looked at the other, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“i knew you could do it.” he continued.

“why are you even here…?” choso queried, putting on his awkward smile. you just watched with a smile on your face as the pair of brothers chattered until it faded into playful bickering.

later that day, you and choso were at your apartment, in your bedroom relaxing after yuji convinced the two of you to hang out with him for the day. choso was reading a book called “The Art of War”. you enjoyed when he read aloud to you. even though you were getting a bit bored, you didn’t wanna tell him that.

you were getting impatient. needy even. you missed being so close to him and being touched by his hands that looked two times the size of yours. abruptly, the book closes before choso would kiss you passionately as if something had possessed him. his lips were pressing against yours. he didn't say anything, his breath was heavy. everything was blurry to him.

choso held you tight against him, his hands moving to caress your waist. he was no longer thinking straight. he kept kissing you. he was drunk off of the feeling. but he cared about your lips. they were soft and plushy. he couldn’t even remember the last time he felt something as good as this.

soon, his hands moved to your neck. he caressed your throat, tenderly. his head was swimming, filled only by the feelings he had for you. kissing turned into biting, and biting turned into licking, and licking turned into kissing again. his lips were everywhere on your body. all he wanted was you.

there was no talking anymore. only the sound of the two of you breathing. you were breathing fast, filled with excitement. the way choso was looking at you was driving you crazy. he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

he was caressing you from top to bottom, his lips kissing every part of you. it was...perfect. he was yours, you were his. it made sense. what else did you need?

“you're so beautiful..." he whispered. “...so perfect.”

you felt his bare chest against yours. his body was hot. it felt incredible. you were lost in the pleasure, and there was no returning. it was too late to stop. choso wanted you and you wanted him. It was too good to be true. his hands were touching you everywhere, teasing you, making your blood pump faster, making you moan.

he made you moan loudly. his lips and tongue were everywhere. your whole body was shaking. everything felt amazing. every sensation was magnified by a hundred. the smell of his skin, his voice, his moans in your ear...it made you feel like you were going to go insane.

the male was holding both of your wrists. he was looking at you with lust. he didn't care about anything else. you were feeling so good you were unable to think anymore. your heart was pumping like crazy, your legs were shaking.

he kissed your neck, your collarbone, your breasts. his hands were everywhere on your body. he wanted you badly. he couldn't control himself. he was all over you. he didn't care if it was a little dirty. his hands were exploring every inch of your body, making you moan and scream loudly.

he took off your clothes while his eyes kept scanning your body. soon, you were both naked. you looked at each other's body with lust and excitement. you knew how right this was. nothing else mattered. all of your senses were focused on this moment.

the room was flooded with the sound of both your moans and your breathing. your body was hot, your mind was fuzzy. you were not yourself anymore. you were a different being, full of sensuality.

choso was looming over you now, looking down at you with burning passion in his eyes. he was holding your wrists tightly and staring at you, his muscles twitching, as if he was imagining what he'd do to you. you could feel his breath on your neck, your collarbone... you could smell him.

his fingers were kneading your skin, his hands were sliding all over your body. he wanted to possess you. he was devouring you, slowly, passionately, thoroughly. his hands were feeling you, exploring you, learning you. he was learning how your body was shaped all over again, to better pleasure you.

he was slowly moving his tongue against your thighs now, kissing his way up your body. your heart was beating faster and faster. you could hardly breathe. he was taking his time, but he wasn't playing games with you. he wanted you to enjoy this.

he was caressing your inner thighs, kissing them, licking them, making your legs shake. you couldn't remain silent anymore. you were overwhelmed by desire. he was in control, controlling you in the most delicate way possible, making you surrender to his will.

you began reaching down to choso’s lower area, gently caressing the length that he had been hiding from her. you bit your lip as you stared in awe and pure excitement.

he had no words. his lips were quivering as he stared at you. he was feeling you, feeling your desire. he wasn't thinking about anything else in this moment. he was in awe, in total disbelief. he was breathing furiously as he looked at your hand, moving slowly down.

he closed his eyes, unable to bear the intensity of the situation. a moment later, he opened his eyes, staring at you. his expression was intense. his face was flushed. he wasn't saying anything. all he could do was stare at your hand, moving so slowly up and down...

you moved your hand away for a moment, teasing your partner. choso couldn't help but moan loudly, feeling his heart pound so aggressively. he was addicted to your touch.

he looked at your face, still flushed, wanting to see you enjoying this moment as much as he was. your hand was moving up and down again, so slowly and... so seductively. it was too much for him, but you weren't stopping. you wanted to see him beg.

he could feel it. he was so close to the edge. his whole body was shaking, his breath was rapid. he was holding his breath, unable to control himself. It was taking so long, it was too much for him. he wanted you so badly, and you were making him wait. and you were enjoying it all.

he was so desperate, so hot, so ready to explode any second now. he was looking at you with pleading eyes.

"Y/N... i can't... anymore..." you heard choso mumble.

your eyes narrowed. he was yours, and you were in control. you were loving every second of it. you put your hand back on him and looked at him with a mischievous smile.

“wait a little bit more,” you said, still keeping your hand moving up and down. your free hand went to his mouth to stop him from talking. “be a good boy for me.” you added, with a sultry voice.

he was almost begging you to stop at this point. you were torturing him, playing with him. you had absolute power over him, and you loved it. you didn't want to give in just yet. you were playing with him, enjoying every second of it. it was such a thrilling feeling. you wanted him to suffer a little longer.

he was holding himself, trying to remain calm. the sensation was getting to his head. it was too much. he was starting to feel weak, his legs were trembling, and his hand was shaking.

he was shaking. he tried to move, to get away from your hand, but you were stronger. you held him tight. you were making him wait for your final touch, making him beg for it. he was so vulnerable, so at your mercy.

he was losing control, not able to think, not able to say anything. his breath was racing, his body was shaking, his mind was empty. all he could feel was you. your hand touching him, teasing him, driving him crazy.

choso was breathing heavily, trying to make sense of what was happening to him. he couldn't take it anymore. he turned his head away, hiding his trembling body. his body felt overwhelmed, so close to the edge.

“i can't... please,” he mumbled, his voice barely understandable through the moan. his eyes were closed tight, his face buried in the pillow.

you felt like the goddess of lust, controlling choso’s mind and body, as if he was a puppet in your hands. his voice, his breath, his body were all yours to control. you had broken him, and you were loving it. your whole body was shaking, just a lot less than his, but you still felt incredibly empowered.

you put your hand down again, but you didn't move it anymore. you kept it on him, looking at his face. “not yet,” you whispered.

choso was breathing fast, staring at you. his eyes were so full of lust, desire and love. he could barely move, his body was so tense, so close to the edge, shaking as if he was about to explode.

you were in complete control of his body and of his mind. you were enjoying this. watching him like this, looking at you, wanting you... it was delicious.

you could do anything you wanted with this weak and sensitive boy. literally anything. you could make him beg, you could make him shout. you could do whatever you wanted with him.

your hand was still touching his body. you kept looking at his face, drinking his expressions of love, lust and desire. you were loving watching him like this, enjoying your power over him.

you moved your free hand up to his face, caressing his cheek. you could feel his breath on your skin. he was trying so hard to remain still, but you could see he was shaking, his body so tense.

“don't move,” you whispered to him, with a provocative smile on your face. “stay still for me, boy.”

his heart was beating so fast. he was saying your name like it was the only thing he knew. he was looking at you, but he could hardly keep his eyes open. tears welled up in his eyes from pleasure. he physically couldn’t handle it but he wanted more of it. how could he resist you? you made him feel so weak in this situation. he felt dizzy. his entire body feeling numb.

soon enough, ropes of white substance spewed from his manhood and he was completely out of breath. choso laid down on top of you and you moved your hand away from him, putting your arms around him.

he’d kiss your lips gently before tucking his head into your neck and closing his eyes.

“i missed you so much.” he said quietly.

“i missed you too.” you replied before your eyes closed, falling asleep after your high died down.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

[diodellet]

Hmm,may i get pretty pls,prompt 10 with lumine ,prompt 15 with arlecchino and maybe prompt 7 with columbina?^^

If possible i would like the reader to be fem and aloof:")

💌Lumine + Prompt #10 (Talking with them for hours about anything and everything, not even feeling the time pass.) ++Female!Reader

“The rain doesn’t seem to be letting up. We will have to camp in this cave for the night,” Lumine says, wringing the fabric of her skirt.

“That’s alright with me.” Could you muster another day’s worth of payment? Your shivering doesn’t abate despite the mortified heat coursing through you.

“Hold on, I’ll get out a warming bottle.”

You sit by the fringes of its orange glow as she prepares dinner. Your adventurer’s cap and green overcoat are laid out on a nearby rock to dry, alongside her scarf and gloves. The meal is taken in silence, save for when you mutter a quiet “thanks” as you hand your bowl to her. 

While she takes first watch, you try settling in your sleeping bag.

To no avail. 

“Move a little closer, you’ll catch a cold.”

“I’m fine right here, thank you.”

She opens a second warming bottle, placing it closer to you. “Better?”

A bit. But the discomfort lingered—the question tumbles from you, “why did you take this commission?”

“To escort you to the outskirts of the Court of Fontaine?”

“...You could’ve done something more noble than babysitting.”

Despite her delicate features, there’s something jaded in her expression as she replies. “I’m not always looking to do something grand.”

“So you’re saying that your reputation—all of your achievements were accidents? Circumstance?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Things don’t always go according to plan, as you’ve seen.”

“...Right.”

Rain continues to fall.

“Getting you to your destination safely is enough payment,” Lumine says, as if signposting the end of that conversation.

Which, you can’t accept. That she’s seen through you like this, that you can barely get a read on her. You’ve listened to so many stories and rumors that you thought you could paint a detailed portrait of the illustrious Traveler. But here, Lumine’s only become more of an enigma.

And that innate adventurer’s curiosity tugs at you, compounds your insomnia.

“There has to be something that I—that will suffice. For your time and effort in accompanying me.” Some hidden treasure, a rare sight, something.

“Who knows what we’ll find?” Lumine appraises you with a faint smile. “I’m glad that you’re actually more talkative than you look.”

Warmth blazes through you. “I’m trying to be courteous—”

(This back and forth continues for several hours. You don’t even realize when you’ve drifted off.)

💌Arlecchino + Prompt #15 (Ranting about how insufferable they are, but your friend thinks knows otherwise. Bonus points if the subject of your conversation overhears Everything) ++Female!Reader (Reader is a Fatui Operative)

You’ve endured the bitter hoarfrost, honed yourself into a ruthlessly efficient blade for the Tsaritsa. Though, unlike some of your colleagues, you’re equally dedicated to your values of being upfront, to never rely on deceit and underhandedness.

“Diplomatic missions,” you feel you could do without.

You’d rather guard the doors to whatever meeting room Arlecchino and her colleagues occupied. Anything over standing at her side, engaging in superficial conversations that skirted around the heart of the issue.

So when she propositions you for a short duel, you should’ve realized that this was to make an example out of your brief moment of outward frustration.

She barely gives you a second to defend yourself. Her weapon is a blur of crimson, metal clanging against your sword, the sheer force of the attack making you skid backwards.

“By all means, please do not hold anything back,” she says.

You aren’t weak. You do your best to put up a good fight instead of relying on evasion. 

(Though it’s obvious to any onlooker that victory was already within her grasp.)

In the end, you’re trapped in between a rock and a hard place. A web of red, wispy spider strings and the business end of her scythe. Mere millimeters away from having your head lopped off. Bruised and winded from exhaustion. Meanwhile she remains pristinely untouched, cold and dignified.

“I…give.”

Those two words seem to have caught her offguard. Arlecchino cocks her head. “Hmm. Already?”

“Yes, Lord Harbinger.” The red strings disperse, but her weapon remains still. She’s waiting for you to continue. “...I deeply apologize for my insubordination.”

In that split-second, you catch the slightest shift in her stoicism. Activating your Delusion, you manage to twist out of her attack—narrowly avoiding being cleaved into two.

“Luckily for you, I can distinguish between needing an outlet and blatant insubordination. Guard.”

You’re barely able to raise your weapon in time, getting knocked onto your back, diaphragm spasming, pain radiating through you.

Those crimson webstrings appear once more, pulling you upright, making your nerves scream from overexertion. “There is a time for civil conversation and a time when one must raise their blade. You may disagree with my methods, but do remember this simple distinction. Especially while I am willing to indulge you.”

Against yourself, your lips pull into a sneer, vigor returning to your limbs anew.

💌Columbina + Prompt #7 (Opening their arms for a hug upon seeing how exhausted you are.) ++Female!Reader (Reader is a Mirror Maiden)

Is she omniscient?

While she carries an air of innocence, Columbina holds some qualities reminiscent of the Divine, so much so that it makes you wonder otherwise.

Especially during idyllic moments in Zapolyarny Palace, the rare times the winter wind recedes, letting her soft humming echo through its halls—your mind can’t stop itself from wandering back to that thought. Is she omniscient?

Say that she might be, that acknowledging the possibility means comparing her—being open to the idea—that she is on the same level as the Tsaritsa. Possibly even cut from the same cloth.

Your gaze tears away from your water mirror, hands coming up to rub at your aching temples. These new findings from the field archaeology division of Capitano’s group have you so busy, you’re only able to manage short naps in between your research.

You’d rather be out on the field, but with the injury, you’re confined to deskwork and research, to burning the midnight oil under the unnerving gaze of the Damselette.

“My, what a set of towers you’ve constructed.” You didn’t even notice her from all the books and reports stacked around the office.

You jolt out of your seat, hastily pulling yourself into a rushed yet deep bow. “Lady Columbina!” 

“You needn’t be so tense, my beloved scholar.” Her voice takes on a gentle, lilting tone. “At ease, please.”

You straighten up out of your bow, but keep your hands neatly folded in front of you. “Thank you, Lady Columbina.”

She gazes up at you, unreadable features morphing into a little frown. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Only a short meal. There is much to be done.” You can’t feel the onset of hunger when you’re so engrossed in unweaving the threads of history and mythology. But the fatigue, you wish you were impervious to it. Remaining still or moving around only seemed to leave you more vulnerable to it.

She hums to herself. The sound beckons you over.

You approach, lowering to her height and into her open arms. Your eyes flutter shut for the briefest second.

(At the very least, there’s something otherworldly about her. Heavenly, perhaps?)

When you come to, you find yourself at your desk, strangely reinvigorated. Columbina is seated on the opposite end of the room. Through the slits of her mask, her eyes are closed. But her gaze lays itself on you, soft and protective.

a/n: when i tell you i was hyped to write sapphic genshin reader inserts. i was so so SO hyped (and scared to write for characs ive never written for before). this was waaaay too overdue, im sorry for taking this long to write em out, but i promise that these prompts picked at my brain in a fun way. thank you for requesting!

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Hiiii this is my first time requeting but how would poe react to reader showing favoritism to him

My favourite (Poe Edition)

Self-Aware! Edgar Allan Poe x GN! Reader

Warning: OOC. English is my second language

Purple moon, once again, shined above Yokohama.

"Wohoo! Summer Vacation Poe card is mine! Finally, I can max its skill."

And, once again, you got a limited Poe card max level and 5 level skill.

_________

Ranpo and Poe were having some snacks and tea, when you got Poe's card. Ranpo chuckled.

"I envy you, Poe-kun. In a good way, may I add."

Poe, after giving a pretzel to Karl, looked at Ranpo quizzically. Ranpo was drinking soda, his eyes were closed.

"Envy me? Why?"

Ranpo waves his hand. Poe took a sip of his tea.

"Well, you know, you are Our Guiding Light favorite character, that's for sure."

Poe almost spit his tea.

"W-what? Favorite?"

Ranpo quickly answered.

"Yes. Favorite. Don't tell me, you haven't noticed it."

Poe nervously tapped his fingers against the table surface.

"I am afraid, you are mistaken, Ranpo-kun. I am sure, I am not their favorite."

Ranpo grins.

"And I tell you, you are their favorite. Look at your cards! They try to get all of your cards. The rarity doesn't matter, they are happy with R, SR and SSR cards. And they always tried to max level them. Moreover, they are using all your cards as App's Home Screen Wallpaper. Last, but not least, your "Black Cat in the Rue Morgue" card are their profile picture in game."

Poe took another sip of his tea. He (actually, everyone, to be honest), of course, already has noticed that you really like collecting his cards. Poe didn't want to think much of it. He doesn't want to overthink.

"Well, maybe, my cards are just pretty..."

Ranpo lazily tossed the candy into his mouth and responded

"Poe-kun, I won't debate on what's pretty and what is not, but, you do remember that R cards are simply our portraits? So, by this logic, they consider you pretty."

Poe scratch behind Karl's ears. He tried to hide his nervousness.

"Than... maybe, they really like to have all of their cards maxed in every way?"

Ranpo huffs and crossed his hands on his chest.

"Poe-kun, they already have all of our R cards. Yours are the only one that were leveled up and the only one, which skills were maxed. Same with SR."

Poe tried to think about another reason for you collecting his cards. But, he has to admit, that Ranpo was right. He was your favorite character.

Poe sighed. Carl jumped on his right shoulder and curled in a ball.

"Fine, I admit it, it seems, they are fond of me. But, surely, they liked me as a character with cool design or voice. Maybe, they have only one specific reason to like me."

Ranpo frowned.

"Poe-kun... You remember, what you have heard from Our Guiding Light? When you heard all of their words? Do you really think, they like you for one specific thing?"

Poe sighed in defeat.

"I don't. I am just nervous. They are real, but for them, I am character. What if they won't like me, when we met for real?"

Ranpo shrugged.

"Understandable. But, time will tell, Poe-kun. I think, you should think positive."

__________

Time, that tell arrived sooner, then one expected

Three days after Poe's and Ranpo's talk, you were having a chat with some random people on the Internet. You were discussing BSD.

Someone asked, who is your favorite character from BSD.

"My favorite BSD Characters? Edgar Allan Poe, of course. My reasons for liking him? Well... First, I think he is a good character. I like his personality. He is smart. He is loyal. He has social anxiety, and I can relate to him. He is determined. Also, he became friends with Ranpo, a person, who he thought, has destroyed his life. Poe helped Ranpo save other ADA members. Besides, I like Poe's looks and voice. Or, and Karl is the cutest."

________

In the app

________

Ranpo grinned, looking at his friend.

"So, I was right, Poe-kun? Not only favorite, but liked for many reasons."

Poe didn't answer. He was too busy right now.

Poe, red as tomato, hide his face in his hands. He was so embarrassed. Little Light was sitting on his head and 'purring'. Poe felt so much love that came from you.

Poe managed to mewl.

"You were..."

Poe was smiling. It feels so nice to be favorite. Poe chuckled. He owes you a nice warm hug. For been an absolutely adorable, nicest person. And for liking him.

[kyriefae]

Being a Whovian is sincerely so much fun.

This show is so many different things to so many people but what I think truly makes it special is not just the change it forces on us as an audience but the way it pushes us subconsciously to give up on purism.

"Your Doctor" was <insert amiable character traits> but the current one doesn't represent that same persona? Pity. Almost like we can be different people all throughout our lives...

You ever hear someone say like..."it's fine it's just not for me"?

I wonder how many people who say that about the newest Doccy Who seasons genuinely think in their heart of hearts "actually this is garbage and you should agree with me that it is garbage" because those two are not the same thing at all! 🤭 Ugh, I can't help my incredulity sometimes. Maybe the internet adds to the expectation of toxicity. ...or I just spent a lot of time growing up around cynical assholes that hated fun. *shrug*

More to the point! 😅

Pick an era of this show; pick a doctor and you'll be transported to a world more or less unique to them. That's pretty cool if you ask me. They still have that silly multidimensional blue box; they still have two hearts (even if it didn't become canon until their 3rd incarnation)...and yes they still pick up stray humans (...usually young, petite British women from whatever decade said Doctor conveniently and sequentially visits).

But maybe to really hit home on what I mean about this show tackling purism in its audience's mind...it's always been a silly sci-fi show meant to elicit joy and wonder out of children. Additionally so, to help adults retain that same joy and wonder in their own lives by reflecting on the excitement that comes from infinite possibilities only possible when traveling with a genderfluid space alien that wears extraordinary clothes and hands out candy like it's already gone out of style. Oh and you become the universe's only hope the moment you step into another time or location lol.

Sometimes when we love something, we take it very seriously no matter how absurd it truly is at its core. We may not even notice we're doing it but any criticism of Doctor Who really ought to be taken with a grain of salt (and spread out at the very edge of creation...just for good measure). No need to get all salty over a television show. 🧂

So yeah. Being a Whovian, for me, is having the freedom to dive head first into an ocean of lore whenever I desire and really explore storytelling from several perspectives. Albeit many of the early years were written and directed and produced from the perspectives of white, straight men in the U.K. and stories with misogynist stances that heavily limited the functional roles of women in the context of said stories and were also affirmed by narratives and protagonists that failed to question any of it. *clearing throat* Oof, there was a frog back there!

All the same, our heroes of yesterday battled styrofoam monsters breaking through plywood walls built on cardboard sets represented by painted miniatures dangling on strings over a starlit portrait meant to look like space. Even when they couldn't help but be a bit cringe, they were still a silly lil sci-fi show playing at games of the imagination. Like children at play.

Now, we have this beautiful and talented man standing at center stage:

He is all the play; all the heart(s); all the joy we have known in this character but decorated in his own unique way.

My love for this show has evolved and I intend to allow it to continue doing just that. Hopefully we can continue to see the Whoniverse do just the same...instead of getting too caught up in the past. 🫣

Anywho, that's all for now.

Kisses 😘

[pfaerie]

I read heartstopper for a bit and I keep pretty mid expectations for webcomics because its a story for free, im not going to complain too much, whatever

But the 0 stakes thing fucking killed me man. Its also the like, wholesome paradox of not wanting to have a problematic world, but also wanting the mains to be comforted for their issues that came from a problematic world.

So you have a story where we encounter actual homophobia like twice, but fear of homophobia is a vehicle for comfort therapy speak. It becomes frustrating because it starts to feel like their fears are unfounded because the only homophobia in the plot is soundly dealt with by "it's a singular character who sucks so comically and no one likes that guy anyway"

And same with the eating disorder kinda? We have this whole plot about his disorder and it's resolved with "I've been in inpatient for a month and things are looking up!"

Also no one is allowed to be interesting because they all have to be nice and good and emotionally right always.

I don't know much about osemans personal stuff since I really don't look into authors, and I'm sure there's stuff in her comics but the characters are all so forgettable I can't even recall what was wrong about them. However she did have an author portrait in her physical copies that annoyed me lol.

Its all just so toothless man. Idk it feels like an ideological extension of, in trying to defend gay people against hypersexual stereotype, make things incredibly suppressed and overly chaste. Which if that's what you need whatever I guess, but it really became the popular gay media trend for a while and it nearly killed me.

EXACTLY 100% THIS. They're toothless and forgettable.

Their reluctance to do anything isn't supported by the world around them - they could probably kill a guy and get off scot-free, but they wouldn't because they're friends with everyone and nobody has an emotion more intense than a mild flutter. Except for the dickheads, who, like you said, are comically evil.

They're serious about everything, but it's easy to be serious when they only need to be, like, 5th-grader-with-one-chore-a-week serious!!! And vice versa! It's easy to be carefree when there are literally NO STAKES. IN ANYTHING. Like, I don't want to see tons of gay suffering by any means, but also. It builds character 🙄 They're fake. It's whatever.

Like. It's fine that it exists. Creators can do what they want. 90% of what I draw is syrupy-sweet romance and cute things. I get the appeal for the people who just want or need something soft. But god. I wish I never had to see another ad for that show. I don't want it on MY blog, in MY corner of the internet. I hate that it's a media darling. It's obnoxious.

[inawearyworld]

free if you truly wish to be: chapter i

florence fickelgruber, the famed chocolatier's idealistic young wife, ponders her past, her regrets, and her longing for a change. guess what? she finds one.

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~1.7k

chapter one is a shit ton of exposition for the character, but i promise you, dear timothee fans, the content you're here for is coming. i tried to capture the dahl style of storytelling (without, yknow, the racism and fatphobia and all that) which was so fun. this character essentially popped into my head last night, and the story will follow her development through the plot of the movie. after i left the theater, i realized i'd painted my nails to match mat’s costumes without realizing, and then suddenly WHOOM there she was. almost like magic. :)

enjoy!!

(also. even if the cartel’s offices don’t actually have balconies, THEY DO NOW.)

part two fic masterlist

"Free if you Truly Wish to Be", or, "the Chronicles of the Songbird", being a Tale of She who is Truly one Wren Matterson, but More Widely Known-at the Start of our Plot-as one Florence Fickelgruber.

Things were…fine.

In a world such as this one, there was very little luxury for a girl such as herself to hatch, nurture, and follow a dream. It would spark up in the purest of fashions and launch onto its way, glittering with promise of a life’s hopes fulfilled, only for the world around it to force it down a path of compromise and disillusionment until the dream’s poor follower found it nearly unrecognizable.

Such was the lot of Mrs. Florence Fickelgruber’s passion for performance. Long before either of these names were attached to her, she knew she longed to spend her life swept up in poetry and music, creating a better world through the arts she loved.

That dream, she often swore to herself, had not died.

It had simply…not turned out as planned.

For now, at least.

For a little over the past two years, more specifically.

It would have been nice to have the means and time to try to make her own fortune, to experience a sweeping romance with someone her own age, to live in a world fair enough that allowed her to both support her now-faraway family and live according to her ideals; it would have been nice indeed.

But for now, life was not quite nice, but fine. The sleekly fonted Fs that monogrammed nearly every surface in the mansion in which she lived had stood during the beginning months for her husband’s, and now her own, alliterative names. Now, she only saw them as golden signifiers of things being nothing more than Fine.

She was currently perched on an emerald-colored fainting couch in her husband’s office that, despite its plush craftsmanship, had lost any semblance of comfort long ago. She sat, and she considered the striking portrait of the two of them that hung over the fireplace, which they’d posed for when she’d still thought this was a good idea: a self-satisfied smirk rested on his face, and her emerald-manicured hand rested on his chest (intended by her to show her devotion, intended by the artist to show her ornate ring). She sat, and she looked into the hall, and she sat, and she stared out the window for a time, and she sat. Eventually, she picked up a set of paper and an emerald-set quill.

“What’s that you’re writing, darling?” came Felix’s voice from across the room, and she nearly sighed in annoyance, a direct contrast to the way her head snapped toward the sound.

There shouldn’t be a melody to that voice, she thought. Not when he only seems to initiate conversation at the exact moments I’ve decided to do something for myself.

“To the opera house,” she responded as he entered the room.

“Again? I thought they’d rejected you.”

“On the grounds that they were scared to hire me, they said, lest they write my role not fully to your liking and lose their concessions wares because of it.”

“Pish, posh.”

“Do you think, my love,” she asked, standing and moving to him, “that…well, would you dictate something I can write here, to reassure them? They’ll take your word over mine.”

“There wouldn’t be a point,” he said flippantly. “Besides, they’re right. Just keep singing for my radio commercials, darling; the customers love it. I can’t imagine you needing anything else. They’re installing our new grand piano next week, you can have all the little fun you’d like on that…”

Throughout this speech, he’d been digging through the pockets of his impeccably tailored blazer, eventually producing a cigarette.

“Give me a light, pet?”

She gritted her teeth as she lit his cigarette, and he brought it to his lips with a smile. She hated when he called her that.

It used to make her feel…wanted, wanted when nobody else did.

Now it just felt…

“I want to share my work,” she said, pushing aside the previous thoughts and pushing forward the previous conversation. “I want to have a genuine impact on the world.”

“And you will, I swear it. Once Fickelgruber Chocolate’s advertisements started using your voice, sales went up nearly twenty percent, and they’re only growing; if that’s not impact, what is?”

With that, he kissed her before she could give an answer-there was a time I would have romanticized that taste of cigarette smoke-took the half-finished letter, folded it so crisply it nearly ripped, and tossed it into the gold-leaf wastebasket.

“Felix-”

“Just wait until the new radio spots are released. It’ll be marvelous, darling.”

She should have known this was how it would be.

It had seemed too good to be true in the moment. To receive, after a performance in her home city, not only the praises of a world-famous chocolatier but also an offer to travel to and perform in his world-famous city, and later a proposal-albeit more businesslike than romantic-to be set for life, to provide for her struggling family; although, she’d come to learn, her husband would have wanted nothing whatsoever to do with her if he had known of her humble origins.

He’d just never bothered to ask.

Well, save for once-

“I assume you come from a good family?”

“Oh, yes, they’re the warmest souls you could ever-”

“Wonderful.”

I grew up nowhere near those obsessions with reputation; how was I to know he meant “good” in that sense?

Before she truly knew him, she had liked him. Felix was undeniably smart, and not unhandsome; she thought him to have a solid wit and an intriguing way of speech, with eyes and hands that would have been attractive on a kinder man. The clean lines and deep green hues that seemed to follow him everywhere suited her well, and she used to have reason to believe that association with him might give her a platform to create positive change, that he saw her as an equal in ambition and intellect.

Once they were married, once she’d seen him with the rest of his Cartel and realized the depth of his disdain, arrogance, classism, and general apathy for anything that was not himself, that reason to believe had dwindled faster than a sweet drop of hot chocolate on a waiting tongue.

…Not to mention that I could practically see him almost rescind his proposal when he learned I’m lactose intolerant.

But she’d suffered through the resulting throataches and occasional days of less-than-stellar singing that came with the barrage of dairy-filled sweets as she was announced to the world as the famed chocolatier’s fiancee, telling their story (which Felix embellished quite often) to the press over and over again.

“Yes, that’s right,” she remembered him saying on the television broadcast that announced the engagement, “my little songbird has finally found her golden cage.”

She had winced, forced to make it seem like a smile in the face of the blinding sea of flashbulbs. That had been the first moment in which she couldn’t ignore the deeper feeling that this was wrong, and she wondered if anyone watching would notice her flash of pain.

What she didn’t know was that, thousands of miles away, in the middle of a far-off ocean, a boy on a ship had been holding a tiny transmission screen (assisted somewhat by magic in order to obtain a stronger signal), eager to see the news about one of his idols, and that, despite his core tendency to give the benefit of the doubt, that idol lost a bit of his respect that day.

I shouldn’t have done this.

But if my family was still starving, all because I wanted to wait for someone kinder, someone who’d support my dreams, I couldn’t forgive myself.

She was startled from her thoughts by a shout calling from below the office, followed by…

A song.

Felix discarded his cigarette and went to the window, posturing into a lean against its frame, and Florence followed. His arm slunk around her waist, so her hand found its way to his chest; it was the portrait pose again, the frozen frame, the unspoken understanding.

I do love acting.

But I don’t know how much longer I can take a life of…offstage performances.

The boy in the center of the Galeria, though, seemed not to be putting on a persona for the crowd, but rather infusing his entire soul into his song to them. He was indeed meaning to sell something, but his passion for it shone brightly in a way she’d never seen from a businessman, present company included. The people that were starting to surround this young man hailed from all walks of life, and he beamed at them all with the same sunlit smile.

With a flourish, he opened the lid of the jar of candy that he held, and-

Oh!-

Each piece of chocolate had flown from its container and flitted into the air, leading to a gasp of delight from the crowd. Florence was able to suppress her own squeal, but couldn’t stop a flex of the hand, involuntarily causing her to grasp her husband’s tie.

“Don’t worry, pet,” Fickelgruber said, clearly misunderstanding his wife’s reaction, and with the tone of his voice clearly opposite of his words. “His charm over them will be…short-lived. Our business is perfectly safe.”

The boy finished his song to rapturous applause, and it took every ounce of Florence’s theatrical training to keep from joining it. She felt a shift next to her, and looked to the side to see her husband making pointed eye contact with his colleagues in their respective offices. The smirk that used to set her soul aflame-before she’d learned what it could mean-formed slowly across his face.

“Florence?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Go home.”

“I-”

“We’ll take care of him. Go home.”

Saying this, he left her side and swiftly went out of the office, presumably to join forces with the rest of the Cartel in terrorizing the poor young man.

The moment Felix’s presence could no longer be felt, Florence let out a breath.

Turning back to the window, she considered the boy, who was wholly wrapped up in the joy of his work having an impact on those who witnessed it.

Tentatively, and with the slight smile of a small rebellion, she turned the window’s handle and stepped out onto the office’s balcony.

She wouldn’t let his light be dimmed in the same way she thought hers was.

And she would certainly not go home.

[foxglovefaun]

Hey yo!! I was just lookin over ur sketchbooks stuff, which is,,,,so grand and soulful I can’t put much words to it and wanted to ask do u use a specific type of pencil? Or any special thing like that?

thank you so much!! <3 ;0; my sketchbook is my safe place rn, so this means a lot. and i do! i have a lot of specific pencils. i have a series of tools that are in my everyday artbox, and i've narrowed down a collection that's been pretty reliable for me. i can introduce you! :) ...ok but r u ready for a infodump because

ok this is my everyday Graphite Mechanical Pencil Squad. I always have them in my box and i use them for just about every pencil drawing in my sketchbook.

(I added a post break because I didn’t think about it before :3 )

from top to bottom: - Steadtler: Mars Technico 2.0 -> used for longer pencil studies and anatomy stuff, as well as experiments with comic-style hatching. has a tiny built-in sharpener! I like using this for drawing the base for portraits coz it's got a real consistent value - Sakura: Sumo Grip 0.7 -> comfy. :) big. :) - Tombow: Mono Graph 0.5 -> my current baseline. I've used this pencil since 2021 when i first started recovering from burnout. I really like its weight balance, as the feed end is quite heavy. This pencil was engineered for writing though, so while it has a "rotating lead mechanism", it doesn't activate while I'm drawing. Apparently it's supposed to rotate the lead as you write so it stays sharp. :0 - Uni: Kuru Toga 0.3 -> very lightweight, sometimes feels fragile but is durable as hell. I use this for really fine lines, like details in the eyes or hatching around the nose in really small portraits. I used to use this size more in college, but I use it less nowadays.

speakin of that damb MonoGraph, i have S e v e r a l

I have six currently, which feels like a bananas number of mechanicals to carry at one time, but five of them carry different color leads that i use super regularly so i ignore this.

you probably are familiar with my multi-color sketches with blue and red and pink n stuff, and these are what i use for that. sometimes i use light blue to sketch, then clean it up with the dark blue, and then add portrait details with red. Other times i sketch with pink and then define everything with purple. anyway

i load them all up with Uni Nano Dia color leads. Historically I've used Pentel red leads and Prismacolor Col-Erase wood pencils, but these are my favorite now. They are all erasable and erase pretty well! (The lavender does not specify that it is erasable, but i assure you, it will submit to an eraser.)

speakin of erasers. This has actually been the most difficult squad to narrow down, as erasers are all super different from one another, even within the same brand. Sometimes they smear my shit, sometimes they rip up the paper, sometimes they lift okay but still leave a ghost. not these. These guys are reliable. They help me move. They text me back. - Muji: plastic eraser, hard type, black -> this was my biggest most recent surprise. Muji has very affordable minimalist materials that can look cheap on the surface level, but tbh I've never had an eraser serve me so well. When it comes to erasable marks, it lifts EVERYTHING off of my Talens sketchbook. I wish it came in a stick format for more control, but the brick will have to do for now. - Tombow: Mono Stick, plastic eraser -> bless. Soft to the touch but doesn't need a shit ton of pressure to lift stuff out and clean up. Performs consistently and creates a super clear surface. My favorite standard-sized stick eraser, hands down. - Tombow: Mono Knock -> badass. I've had this thing in my arsenal since 2008. I found my first pink one in Japantown San Francisco and carried it all the way to QC with me in 2020. It was finally put to rest after it broke in 2022, and was immediately replaced with the green one. It's kind of hard for an eraser, which is good because the skinny ones can tear under pressure, but it's precise, clean, and usually lifts everything out. Excellent for portraiture. It's also great for drawing on its own and I'll draw highlights or carve out shapes in big smudgy fields of grey. I highly recommend this tool. - Tombow: Mono Zero, elastomer eraser -> weird. so smol. does cool shit tho. This is my smallest eraser ever, and it took a while to find one in stock. It is so very fine that it has its own refill method and part of it is reinforced with plastic. It's clean tho, and so goddamb precise. - Kneaded eraser, brand ???? i dont remember, probably Mars : I love my kneaded eraser. I've always used it to press and lift when it comes to sketchbook stuff, but i recently learned that you can just kinda ROLL IT across your surface and it will lighten EVERYTHING, EVENLY. I lost my shit tbh, nobody ever told me I could use it like that and now I get legit excited to use it. Very satisfying. But also very sticky and sometimes Bad Texture, so I keep it in a little tin. along with the whole series i described, I also carry these with me in my box. Just misc tools that also live here. Tiny sharpener, blenders, supplementary erasers and pencils.

I also have a small frame-style box that I keep my basic wood drawing pencils in, as well as the tiny eraser and the 2.0 pencil because they fit. :)

Everyone lives in here, and i like that the box can sorta serve as a work surface too, using the lid like a lil table. It's also easy AF to just toss everything in there, so cleaning up my workspace takes less than a minute now.

i use all of these whenever doin sketchbook stuff. I always keep them in my newest travel box, which has served me very well when going down the avenue to draw outside. :)

i hope this gives u some feedback for choosing your own tools! :D I get my materials from all over the place, but when I was picking up the Mono Graphs en masse I was getting them from Stationery Pal at a pretty significant discount.

thank u for ur interest. :3 I have been wanting to assemble a post like this for a while and it felt good to just sit n think about my tools for a little bit. anyway. :3 take care. thanks <3 Hope this answered your question! (and hope it wasnt too much lmao sdfjkgskdjhfkjshd)

[maze-of-my-design]

persona fun facts :o? can be from any game!

totally not copy-pasted from dms FUN FACTS BRIGADE (also i cut it in half with a readmore bc its. a lot)

Ann is the tallest girl among the Phantom Thieves, santing at 5'5! (In my head she is taller than Ren but shh)

If you take the thieves to darts, the worst player in the gang is surprisingly not Morgana, but Sumire! Don't ask me how she's worse than a cat!

In P5 (including royal), Ann is the only romance option to directly say "I love you" to the protagonist without cutting herself off* (and, i'm half sure, she's one of the few direct kisses a protagonist receives in a persona game) and honestly? good for them ily ann im so gay for her *Sumire says it too, even before being romanced, but it's not a complete "i love you", per se. She stutters through her confession and Ren has to finish it for her because she's so flustered, which is pretty cute i'll be real but in terms of Saying it, it technically doesn't count.

Sho Minazuki (yknow, the guy from the arena games) was originally meant to be the protagonist for P5! This is massively implied in ending dialogue for the Arena games, as well as how similar the two look if you, like, dye his hair black. Also if you recall the original Femc for P5 with the neon red hair…

Sumire lives with her dad, that much is obvious, but the Royal artbook reveals she also lives with her grandma and her mother!

Among all the non-party-member confidants in P5 (including royal), only 5 find out Ren's identity as a Phantom Thief through something else other than a mementos request. These are Maruki, Yoshida, Sojiro, Mishima, and Sae

The Featherman series is a Power Rangers style anime that airs in the inner universe of the series. Contrary to what the Dancing games make us believe, There's always only 5 Feather soldiers that are part of the main crew: Pink Argus, Red Hawk, Black Condor, Yellow Owl, and Blue Swan. These names, however, are sometimes interchanged between "generations" of the show.

Actually lemme go on a tangent (you asked for fun facts you're GETTING fun facts) There are three generations of the Featherman show to date: OG Featherman (persona 2), Featherman R (Persona 3), and Featherman V (P4 and the Arena games). There's actually a change in the naming semantics every new generation of Featherman. For example, take this excerp from the wiki: "Red Eagle (from Featherman), Feather Hawk (from Featherman R and/or Neo Featherman), Feather Red (from Featherman V)" So in P2, the naming convention is "[Color] [Bird name]", in P3 it's "Feather [bird name]" and in P4 it's "Feather [color]"

Ok tangent over don't ask me how i know so much about a fictional series from a fictional game JSVGEFVR more fun facts

Sumire actually has the biggest amount of portrait sprite variations, since it includes her Kasumi and her Sumire sprites. She deserves it tbh, fashion icon

Another Sumire fact! Did you know Maruki "transformed" sumi into her sister on her birthday? I sure did! Fuck you Maruki!! Uninvited from MY birthday party for sure

Sumire, piror to the third semester, is only ever called by her last name, Yoshizawa, by everyone aside from Ren, Morgana and Futaba. This is a very a subtle way to show something's up with her and i gasped when i first found out about it.

Ok fine enough P5 facts have a P3 fact. It's kinda well known im pretty sure but Makoto Yuki's barrage of official names include, also, Sakuya Shiomi from the stageplay. Sakuya means "blossom" or "bloom". Hey do you recall that he dies in March 5th? yknow, when spring starts? Cherry trees. you get it

Back to P5, Tactica reveals that Haru used to indulge in chopping firewood when she was younger. Her dad didn't like that for her, but he never tried to stop her. This probably leads to her having an Axe as part of her Phantom Thief artillery.

Did you know Fuuka and Futaba actually become friends in the Dancing games? They sadly don't remain friends after losing their memories post-game but Fuuka knew her as Alibaba, and Futaba knew her as Lucia :) I hope they became friends online again

In the jazz jin in Royal, Futaba reveals that the retro console you use to play games was hers, and that she'd sold it to the shop in Yongen. Also apparently the busted laptop you buy there was Haru's! (fact also revealed in the Jazz Jin)

[thatbeluga]

Wet Sock 2x06: The Mikus That Bind Us

Season One / 2x01 / 2x02 / 2x03 / 2x04 / 2x05

"You know what," Rad said, wiping a glob of Hastune Miku off her shirt. "If the multiversal court wants to hunt down and kill Beluga and Fuck, far be it from me to stop them."

She turned on her heel, flipping off Y/N. "Suck my sack."

Y/N's lip trembled at such a frequency that her nerdy glass shattered. Between the fact that there were shards of glass in her orbs, and that now Jason could never slowly and sensually take them off to reveal how she was secretly pretty, Y/N began to cry.

"Uh, Mom," Misp said, cerulean tears sinking into the holes in their Crocs. Y/N had already disappeared beneath a fountain of her tears, sparkling and shining so brightly that looking at them would permanently burn the retinas of any blonde named Jessica.

"Look kid, your grandparents are great, but they also suck, and I'm sick of bailing them out when they clearly do not want to be," Rad said, pushing the door of Y/N's room open. A wavelet of tears pushed Misp up next to Rad.

"Don't say that," Misp said. "Sure, they're... eccentric. And they hate taxes, and rules and society and having a conscience and doing good for the world, but like... I think it's a bit?"

"Imprisoning gods, breaking multiverse law, reanimating dead parrots to perform Mamma Mia... is a BIT?"

At that moment the wall behind them cracked and shattered outward, blasting Rad and Misp right out of the top floor of UWU Enterprises. The cringe landscape of the My Immortal Dimension spread out below them, and it was in that moment that they realized that the hills and valleys and rivers of limpid tears actually formed a perfect portrait of Gerard Way.

"Huh, that's neato burrito," Misp said, before gravity remembered to do its job and hurl them towards the cringe soil.

"Welp. This is annoying," Rad said, crossing her arms. "Is it still okay for me to blame Beluga and Fuck?"

"Can't blame them if we're dead," Misp said, eyeing the rapidly growing ground. "Cause like, we hit the ground and we're dead. Like dead."

"Nah, I'm immortal I'll be fine," Rad said, picking a congealed glob of Miku that had dried behind her ear. "The whole god thing?"

"Oh right! I forgot," Misp said. "I mean I'm not immortal, but it's chill you'll be fine."

About halfway down the length of UWU Enterprises, it finally clicked for Rad. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Hm. If only someone could help us."

"Yeah."

"Someone like, oh, I don't know. A president?"

"A president?"

"Maybe? But I don't know any presidents."

"Girl you're not special, neither do I."

At that point, a rift in space and time opened up, a giant pickle slice rebounding off the side of UWU Enterprises. Something flew out of the rift on a jetpack, throwing two ropes to Misp and Rad. They held on, looking up at their savior.

"I know some presidents," Wombat said, the sun shining behind him, silhouetting his marsupial glory.

"I am one."

[n0sewise]

I was tagged by @recents on my main blog for WIP Wednesday, so I’m posting here on my side blog since this is where I post writing/fandom stuff. I’m tagging everyone and no one bc I’m too anxious to individually tag people (//∇//)

Anyway, here’s an excerpt from my killugon royalty au. Super rough and it needs way more fleshing out, but I think you can still get the idea from what’s here:

Kurapika wasn’t all that bad. Gon actually quite liked his tutor, and he’d come highly recommended to Aunt Mito as a fine scholar and an even brighter teacher. Even now, his smooth voice carried pleasantly throughout the room as he lectured Gon on something about fish. Fishing, probably. The Eastern Coast was known for its plentiful fish, having the good fortune of being located in the middle of the Gulf of Mobius. Or was it the Western Coast? One of the coasts, anyway. He’d only just gotten back from visiting a neighbouring earl’s daughter in the east, and Gon had quite liked the beaches. There hadn’t been much time to explore; there were dances and feasts, and the earl had wanted him to get to know his—

“Prince Gon?”

“Sorry, what?”

Kurapika’s delicate brows knit together in a pinched crease on his forehead. “I asked if you could tell me why Kujira stations our naval forces on the Eastern Coast only.”

”Oh,” said Gon. He thought for a moment. It would have something to do with fish, wouldn’t it? Kurapika had been talking about fish, and about—

He was saved from answering by a frenzied knock at the heavy, cypress door.

It was Zushi once again, and breathing hard like he’d run the entire way there.

“Your Excellency,” he panted, nodding at Kurapika. “Your Royal Highness, I’m so sorry to interrupt, but the Queen wishes to see the prince.” He straightened up from his deep bow. “She’s in her chambers,” he added. “It’s urgent.”

Gon could hardly fight his grin.

”I really should—“

”Just go,” said Kurapika with a dismissive gesture.

Aunt Mito’s chambers were all the way on the other end of the palace, and nearly the complete and polar opposite of Kurapika’s study. They were bright and airy, with long sheer curtains that fluttered gently in the breeze, and nearly every surface was decorated with a flowering plant or vine of some sort. Gon smiled when he spotted his mother busily tending to one of her plants, imbuing it with her own sparkling energy until its leaves were plump and vibrant with life.

“Aunt Mito? You wanted to see me?”

“Gon!” She turned and met him with a bone crushing hug once he was within reach.

“Is everything okay? Zushi said it was urgent.”

She waved a hand impatiently, her armful of bangles and charms clacking all the while, and laughed him off. “That boy is so serious,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong, but I’ve received another courtship proposal, and—“

Gon couldn’t help it, he wilted on the spot the moment the word courtship left her mouth.

”Aunt Mito, this is the eighth one this year, and it’s only April!”

”It’s only April and you’ve turned down eight perfectly nice options!” she countered. “Come sit,” she said, moving over to settle on her bed. “Sweetheart, I really think you’ll like this one.”

Gon collapsed next to her, falling back onto Aunt Mito’s soft blankets with a grunt.

”You said that last time,” he reminded her. “And it’s okay, I didn’t mind meeting her at all! I thought Noko was a very nice girl!”

”She was,” Aunt Mito agreed, “but I really do think you’ll want to see this next one. He’s a prince just like you,” she added. “So you’ll have that much in common.”

”Sure,” he said, with a brightness he didn’t feel. “I’ll go look. It can’t hurt, right?”

”Wonderful! The Padokean emissaries are already waiting for you to approve.”

Gon blinked. “Sorry, what?”

Aunt Mito could only smile helplessly. “They were insistent that their prince’s portrait be viewed in the best possible light, and I wouldn’t let them have the throne room for it.”

”All that for a painting? I’ll meet him, if that’s what you’re asking, Aunt Mito.” He’d already pushed himself up into a seated position, but even from this angle, she was hard to read, a funny sort of smirk twitching on her lips.

“There’s no need for that, Gon,” she said. “Just go and have a look and you can let me know if you’d like us to make arrangements. The emissaries are in the courtyard.”

Weird, thought Gon as he walked through the palace. All that fuss for a painting seemed excessive, but he’d promised Aunt Mito. Padokea rang a distant bell in the back of his mind, and he remembered that it had been in one of the readings Kurapika had wanted him to finish. Nothing to do about it now, he figured, already smiling as he stepped back out and into the sunshine. He’d reached the courtyard.

The emissaries were indeed waiting for him outside. There were two of them, and they looked woefully out of place under the warm blanket of Kujiran sunlight. Both wore sharply tailored jackets with stiff high collars that covered their necks entirely. They stood among the jacaranda trees, solemnly holding what must have been the painting under a dark veil of fabric.

“Your Royal Highness,” said the one on the right, bowing his head.

“Oh, hi,” said Gon. They still hadn’t lowered the painting, and he wondered if their arms ever got tired. “You know you can put that down, right?”

The second emissary looked at him, and despite maintaining a rather stoic expression, Gon could see her lip curl ever so slightly in what he could only assume was disgust.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you!”

”We have been entrusted with the safe passage of our crown prince’s portrait,” she sniffed. “Its beauty shall never touch the ground beneath our feet.”

”Uhhh,” said Gon. “Okay, well whenever you’re ready, I guess?”

Both of them straightened immediately, standing even more stiffly than before. With a sweeping motion of his arm, the first man began to speak.

“Prince Gon of Kujira, we present to you The Crown Prince of Padokea, First of His Name, Heir to the Throne of Shadows, and Pride of the Zoldyck Family: His Royal Highness Prince Killua Zoldyck.”

And Gon hardly had enough time to reflect on either the lengthy title, or how the emissary managed to say all of that without taking a single breath, because his partner had already pulled the veil from the painting, and there, looking out at him from a gleaming silver frame, was the most beautiful boy he’d ever laid eyes on.

Gon’s breath caught in his throat as he stared. Immediately he understood why the emissaries had insisted on unveiling it among the jacaranda trees. Anything less would’ve been an insult to the boy in the painting. He gazed haughtily out of the frame at Gon, his sharp, elfin features frozen in a bored, half-lidded expression. It was hard to know where to look, Gon realized, his gaze roving every which way. There was the sharp angle of the prince’s jawline, softened only by his full, pouting lips. The prince’s hair too, was striking in its own right. It was entirely white, like the smooth, sun bleached colour of a seashell, framing his face in messy waves. In the end it was his eyes that Gon couldn’t look away from. They were large and blue, and framed by a set of long, silver eyelashes that lent him the appearance of something not quite human staring out from behind his frame.

One of the emissaries cleared their throat.

“Is he to your liking then?”

Gon forced a laugh and rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck as he grinned.

”Yeah—I mean yes. Yes. He’s…” he trailed off. “Send the letter. Please. I’d very much like to meet him.”

An odd sort of smile twitched at the edge of the shorter emissary’s mouth, and she hid it before he could comment.

“Very well,” she said. “We’ll notify the royal family.”

[sannyo-appreciation-posts]

A ridiculously extensive critique and analysis of Sannyo Komakusa Touhou Lost Word art.

the time has come to analyze and critique the Lost Word art for Sannyo Komakusa.

[This also gives me an excuse to show select angles from Lotus Eaters, her Alphes style art by Dairi, stuff like that ]

Love it or hate it, the Touhou lost word gacha game could potentially be someone's first introduction to a given touhou character, so it's important that character portraits leave a good first impression. So with that in mind, I'm gonna critique their art for the booker Touhou cutie that, honestly, just from her profession alone she deserves their utmost respect.

(I can only hope she pokes fun at gacha within a gacha game in the same way she pokes fun at gamblers within her gambling den)

I'm gonna be zooming in to each part of the outfit to discuss the benefits and downsides of each design choice. I'm gonna be comparing pieces to the Zun art or Lotus Eaters for references and also generally to showcase things for comparison.

Since it surrounds the whole design I think I'll need to mention the smoke dragon and pipe first. On the whole, it's cool, and her pipe does match her zun art. Unfortunately it covers up a lot of her outfit and pose. And lastly regarding this there is definitely one detail that's remarkably annoying.

The smoke isn't coming from the pipe.

Its just coming from around her feet

but you will notice an important detail while looking her feet

she's got painted toenails like in Lotus Eaters.

Next, I will move up to her skirt

All in all, it's a pretty good version of her skirt, it has a crease on the side thats catching a little too much light though. it's got the pretty pattern she has in her zun art, but they lowered her coat so it's all an even line of pattern. It even ends up lining up with her sleeve for some reason. It's pretty, but I think it makes the transition from her skirt to her top look a little more drastic, since there isn't a fresh line of coat pattern to break it up. Frankly, it just looks really cool as a long or mid length jacket like in Lotus Eaters and the Zun art instead of a big skirt length coat like they did.

(Yes, I realize Lotus Eaters doesn't feature color or her intricate coat pattern, [presumably since it'd be a nightmare to keep track of. Though I like to imagine it's just yet another outfit of hers]

but anyway, it at least demonstrates my point about a coat with a different length then her skirt creating a cool contrast.

Next is the chest, first I must say her buttons and clothes look perfectly fine. Though they generally pin to the side in Lotus Eaters as well as in her Alphes style art by Dairi (Though these buttons do look like they are struggling)

There are many different different ways people draw Sannyo's chest, but eventually they can be categorized a bit, because at some point there is a tempting result to what the size can make you want to do with her outfit

Naturally, if someone wants to draw her breasts in a larger size, like in Lost Word, it makes it more difficult to draw her coat over her shoulders. The reason being that when you get into the much larger anime sizes, the cloth from a coat would start to just drape over the lower sections of her body from her breasts. So I think people try to avoid that in different ways, often she often ends up with her coat lowered and hanging loosely above her elbows, which can actually serve a double purpose and give her a ton of personality.

As an example here is some gorgeous art by "syuri22" I found here

Syuri22 even extended the line of her skirt up into a bow to make her breasts pop out a bit more, which was really clever.

sometimes fan artists part her coat around her breasts which is a clever way to have her coat over her shoulders without hanging over her breasts too, sometimes she tucks the coat under with her arms in a pose. Sometimes they have it drape a bit but ultimately return to her waist. My point is there are a lot of creative ways artist do it. To lostword's credit the way they did it does kinda accentuate her smug energy. Though adding it together with how thick and soft they made the hem of her coat does kinda make it look like she has a comfortable blanket draped over her.

As for her face. It's good, of course. I mean it's Sannyo's face, hard to go wrong with that. It's got her cute bow. She's got a good expression mixing cute and smug energy. Her ponytail is looking good. No complaints there.

looking at the art as a whole, it's fine. Sure, it looks more like she's wearing a blanket than a coat, but I guess it does make her look kinda soft and huggable. Oh, and I completely forgot to mention her fan is freaking massive. But She's ultimately got the right energy. Though I honestly think it would be better if she had her coat line up a bit less. The way her sleeves and coat and skirt all make an even arc along the design sound like a interesting idea, but it kinda makes her design have less interesting stuff going on.

I do prefer her Alphes style art by Dairi by quite a bit tbh

Even still i hope some day they do her winter outfit, I'm curious what that would look like. it's actually got the fuzzy energy they were going for.

[chuplayswithfire]

i made the bulk of this post a while back in a multi post comment thread, but want it on its own standalone post ✌️

So here's the thing. It is certainly possible that Ed does know that Stede is actively married (with living children!) in season 1, but I think there's an equal possibility, if not that it's even more possible, that he doesn't, and here's why:

The only explanation for Stede being a perfectly wealthy gentleman pirate while having a current, non ex-wife and children on land is that he ditched them. Completely abandoned his family to go off and be a pirate. This would be, as many of us have noted, a real dick move. Walking out on your wife and kids tk go off to be a pirate and telling everyone you meet your name and tying yourself and said name which said wife and children share to a legacy of violent criminal activity, would be, kind of, a real dick move. It's a very uncharitable assumption to make.

And Ed?

Ed really likes Stede. He admires him. Thinks he has his shit together, thinks he's brilliant and cool and kind and a good person. Ed and Stede both have each other on pedestals in season 1, and maybe it's just me, but I think finding lut Stede's a deadbeat dad who walked out on his wife would have taken Stede off the pedestal and safely on the ground of regular joe that Ed doesn't have to feel is totally out of his league.

Now, looking at the show - it's alsl completely plausible that Ed wouldn't know that Stede has a wife and kids he abandoned when you consider that Stede never uses the word wife at all in his conversations with Ed (I'm not sure if he mentions a wife or children at all, to anyone. The only time it comes up is with the Badmintons, who already knew of Stede's family). He says that he was supposed to be a lighthouse to his family and that he failed them. Talking aloud in his sleep, he says Mary's name and that "we were just playing pirates".

Stede has pictures of the children on his mantle, but not a family portrait, and again he specifically says that he failed his family. Failure can mean many things. Ed assuming it means that Stede abandoned his perfectly fine and alive wife and children to be a pirate would be the most uncharitable option, especially because it's completely at odds with the persona of Stede that Ed is familiar with. The Gentleman Pirate is Mr. Talk It Through. Mr. You Wear Fine Things Well. Mr. Obvious Regret About His Family.

Stede's line delivery and the actual wording of it - that he failed his family - in this case, it honestly sounds more like his family is dead and Stede is a widower than that they're all perfectly alive and in good health at home and Stede's just walked out on them.

Not to mention, family can also mean a lot of things. Mary can be a wife's name - it can also be a sister's name, a cousin's name, a sister in law's name. Ed does have the famous line - "Who's this Mary then?" - but he notably doesn't follow up when Stede is awake, and considering it would be a major step in their understanding of each other, I have to assume that if Stede spoke about Mary, Louis, and Alma in any detail, we would see it onscreen, like every other major development in their relationship.

But I really don't think they had anything close to a talk about it, and here's why:

Abandoning Mary and his children is the guilt at the heart of Stede throughout the entire first season, it's the choice he made that he doesn't regret but knows he handled himself poorly in. It's the guilt he needs to confront to move forward, and he doesn't do that until episode 10. If Stede had been able to discuss in any detail who Mary was to him, or the fact that he has children that he's abandoned, he would have had to tell Ed why - which is that the life of a gentleman never suited him, that he's felt rejected and unwanted all his life, that he felt rejected, unneeded, and unwanted even in his own family and that's the kind of emotional vulnerability that Stede has only displayed in life or death situations in the entire show.

If Stede had talked about those things, they wouldn't hit so hard when the Badmintons hammer it home. Chauncey saying Stede ruined his family wouldn't be so hard hitting if Stede hadn't been refusing to process that his leaving might have had an impact on Mary, Alma, and Louis. If Ed knew Stede had a family he had abandoned, it would mean that Stede had talked about abandoning his family, and Ed would have almost certainly asked why.

A big reason the events of episode 9 and 10 hit so hard is that Stede and Ed are carried forward on the power of getting each other, of having similar ideas and minds, of wanting the same things and having similar baggage, and running away with that feeling without having the necessary, hard conversations. The affection and love are real, but the ability to be willingly vulnerable without triggers or tragedy isn't. That's why episode 7 is about Stede trying to use treasure hunt to keep Ed's attention instead of just saying he doesn't want him to go. It's why they have a disastrous miscommunication in episode 8.

It's why the kiss feels so powerful, because Ed tells Stede that this has all made him happy, that Stede makes him happy, and neither of them is having a breakdown or facing death to spark it.

So yeah, it's very probable that Ed didn't know Stede had a living family that he abandoned for the same reason Stede doesn't know the real significance of Ed's red silk. The explanation is a conversation they haven't had yet, because it would represent a level of willful unburdening that they haven't yet reached.

In season one, they fall in love, but poor communication and emotional baggage tear them apart. Stede finally talks it through and unburdens himself from the act that's weighed him down all season. It makes more sense than it doesn't that Ed wouldn't be aware of that baggage just yet; this is a romance, based heavily in romance pacing and tropes. That kind of unburdening between the romantic leads is a classic second act obstacle - they have to find their way back to each other, and share the truth of themselves. For Stede that's the truth about his insecurities, which are the real reason he left Ed, and which the whole abandonment of his family absolutely plays a role. For Ed, it's going to be that his own self hatred, his guilt, the way he believes people like him don't deserve fine things.

[sirfrogsworth]

I am so confused.

Even when this lens was first released it was $850 brand new.

Does he think people aren't going to check current prices? Did he get scammed and overpay originally? Not to mention eBay gives you a suggestion for pricing.

I really wish I hadn't sold my lenses. There was a point where I had a major decline in my health and I could no longer make comedy for my main website. At the same time, my parents were getting sicker and needed more help. We were also struggling financially. I was so depressed and I was sure I'd never do photography again, so I sold most of my lenses.

We needed the money at that moment, but in the grand scheme of things, the lens money barely made a dent in our situation. Not to mention, we got a small inheritance from my grandmother soon after, so that increased my regret. It took me years of scrounging and saving to build up a collection of 5 lenses. None of them top of the line, but all of them a good value for their performance.

Thankfully I kept the lens I used to take pictures of Otis—my "puppy lens." But my ultra wide, my macro, my tele, and my portrait lens... all gone.

And now I am trying to figure out the cheapest way I can do what I want to do with photography and I'm remembering just how expensive this hobby is. But I think I need to figure this out because I have had a substantial boost in my mental health since I started taking photos again.

A good 50mm could serve several roles. I can add extension tubes for macro. It is about 75mm on an APS-C camera, which is good for portraits. The wide aperture would allow low light photography. Combined with my Otis lens, all I'd be missing is telephoto and ultra wide angle, but honestly I never did much of that anyway. Though ultra wide angle photography is probably the most fun you can have taking pictures—even if the photographic uses are rare.

I did get a Nifty Fifty for my trip to Orlando. I wanted to see if I could get away with using a $100 lens. For the price, it is surprisingly good. And it is the first lens I recommend to anyone starting photography—as almost every camera brand has its own version. But I had several issues trying to make it work for my needs.

It's not very sharp, which is actually fine for shots taken at a distance, but would be a deal breaker for product photos and macro shots which are very close up. Those require as much detail as possible, especially if you need to crop. When you are trying to show people the fine hairs on a bee's body, a soft image just isn't going to have the same impact.

It also does not nail focus consistently and it back focuses (it focuses more behind than in front). Which is a deal breaker for my efforts to use less energy. When I did my portrait shoot with Katrina, I had to do many test shots and look at them on the computer to make sure I was getting them in focus. I was going back and forth and getting up and down. In the end I had to use a smaller aperture and higher ISO to get increased depth of field. And even then the tip of her nose was soft in the photos. Not to mention the added noise from raising the ISO.

This Sigma is a wonderful lens. I'm trying to find a good deal used, but it's still out of reach for now. I have no idea what my financial future is right now and until I know for sure that my brother will release my inheritance in March, I have to be more careful with my budget.

I am going to sell all of my studio lighting gear and use those funds to help me set up a new studio upstairs. I'm hoping that will cover the new lights I will need, but I don't think it will be enough for a lens. Someone suggested a site where I can turn my yard into a dog park, so I am looking into that. I might also see if I can get some gigs restoring photos for people, but it is so difficult finding clients.

Every problem has a solution. And maybe the universe will do me a favor and keep my brother from being terrible just this once.