#yes even is one of those persons that like to keep an aesthetic for his insta

[jarofstyles]

Pressing Questions

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WC- 4.4k

Warnings- exhibitionism, slight breeding kink, completely cute n flirty babies, husband x wife kink???

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“Hey, husband?” 

“Yes, Wife?” It sounded so good coming from their lips. It made her borderline giddy as she looked over at him to find him already looking over at her. The flush she felt in her cheeks bled down to her chest. They were finally fucking married. 

“What made you decide you were marrying me?” Y/N asked as she lounged next to him. Their honeymoon in full swing, Harry had rented out a cabana with a daybed so he could cuddle up to her on the beach and Y/N was positive now that it was definitely one of many things he had up his sleeve. The aesthetic had been perfect to her Pinterest board, but she had a feeling Harry knew that.

Roses in the room, champagne upon arrival, brand new swimwear just for her… she had been absolutely spoiled since they landed. Just like he promised. 

The warm air flowed over their forms, her head resting on her bent arm as the other held the fruity cocktail she had drunk an embarrassing amount of in the last three days. Some kind of coconut and lime thing that had her feeling more giggly than she could remember being in most of her adult life, but she was safe here. Safe with Harry, just like she had been dreaming of. 

 Harry chuckled and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his chest. He traced a lazy circular pattern on her bare hip with his fingertips as he spoke, his voice low and deep. Slightly hushed, keeping it intimate. Just the way she liked it. It was like he was fine tuned to appear to each and every thing she found attractive- or somehow managed to make everything he did appeal to her. Either way, she felt her tummy flutter. 

"Darling, is this a trick question? Do you really think I only have one reason to marry you?”  Her husband acted like it was a ridiculous question but pressed a kiss to her forehead, giving her an answer regardless.  "You’re beyond beautiful, the funniest person I’ve ever met, smart as a tack... and you put up with all my ridiculous bullshit. All of those cliche reasons and more. Not t’mention you dealing with my insane schedule and giving me your honest opinions whenever I ask, even if they’re a little sassy.” Giving her a look, he got the laugh he wanted out of her before tilting his head in question. “Why wouldn’t I marry you?”

“I dunno, I just feel like…. I mean, I know I’m a catch.” She smirked, giving him a wink that she immediately regretted. At least she could be cringey with him and he would find it endearing. Her winks were not nearly as cute as his were.  “But was there a singular moment that you knew you were going to keep me?” His touch always did make her melt. 

Harry, ever the touchy and slightly clingy boyfriend- nay, husband-, couldn’t keep his hands off of her before they got married but… compared to this trip? Y/N was genuinely unsure there was a single moment without him with his touch somewhere on her body. It had been a little shocking at first but every single moment made her feel more addicted to the fingertips pressing into her, arms pulling her into his body or the lips ghosting her skin. The real problem would be when they got home and she couldn’t just have this on tap. 

Harry let out a deep breath, shifting to roll onto his side and propping his head up with his hand as he took in her beauty. The sun was giving her skin a warm, golden glimmer, and it took all his willpower not to pounce on her at that very moment and take her right there in the cabana.

"You want one singular moment, huh?" He hummed, pretending to think about it as his fingertips continued their slow path tracing her body. "There was this one time..."

Her breathing caught in her throat as his fingers took a lazy trail over her body. Harry had this way about him that had made her a little nervous with how attentive his gaze was, but even so… she loved that feeling. Like he was always clinging onto her last word. Even as her husband, he seemed to use this power to his advantage. 

“Mmm?” She asked, tossing back the final bit of her drink before fiddling with the cute little paper umbrella. “What time?”

His lips curled up into a small, smug smirk as he watched her react to his touch. He loved the power he had over her, the way his fingers seemed to make her breathless and her eyes got a little hazy. The way her body subconsciously arched into his touch.

Harry moved his hand from her hip, slowly tracing it up her side and over her ribcage, his touch so light that it almost tickled.  "It was very early on," he said, his voice low and husky. "We were at my place, just hanging out. You were wearing this… little fucking tank top." The way he said it made her know that he was thinking about that tank top to this day. Flattering, even if she couldn’t place the moment he was talking about.

She had to wrack her brain for a moment, trying to remember which day it was that he was referring to. The beginning days had been slightly hazy considering their romance had gone from tentative flirtation to a whirlwind as soon as the sexual dam had broken. 

“Which tank top?” 

Harry's smile grew wider as he saw her trying to remember. It was something he could never forget. "It was that little pink one, with the sexy little bit of lace at the neckline. Lacy straps, too," he said, his voice taking on a slightly dreamy tone as the memory played in his head. "It was so teeny tiny that I could see your bra through it..." Moving closer to her, his hand moved lower on her body, tracing over the soft, sensitive skin of her stomach. He knew exactly how he was affecting her. It was considered a bit of payback for said tank top.

"And those shorts you had on... so short that I could see your hips and legs… and the bottom of your bum when you moved the right way? Mm, I think you’ve always been so cruel with teasing me, baby.” The man obviously loved it though. There was no hiding that from her. 

Despite it being a private beach, Y/N felt the flutter of both fear and anticipation as he flirted with her so blatantly. Recalling a time she could definitely remember now, a movie night at his place where she had worn a matching pajama set that wasn’t outright sexy but… definitely was known to show off her body.

“Ohhhh. That one.” She grinned. “Seeing me in that made you know you were gonna marry me? Perv.”

“Hey now, I just appreciate beauty when I see it.” Harry countered with a laugh, acting slightly affronted as if his hand wasn’t now resting just over the waistband of her bikini. “So sue me for thinking y’looked incredible.”

 Moving even closer to her, his body pressed against hers as his lips brushed against her ear. His voice was sultry as he spoke, a little kiss pressed right underneath it.  “And I distinctly remember you wearing that little outfit just to drive me absolutely wild, you little minx. You can’t even deny it now. I know how that pretty head of yours works.”

Y/N snickered at the call out, knowing he was very much correct. She had done it to test him, to see how much he was willing to put up with back in the day, what would make him tick. He may call it teasing, but she called it an experiment for scientific research. 

“You are such a flirt today.” She took a moment to put the glass down before facing him again, carding her fingers through his wavy hair. The sea air did something to it that made her even more attracted to him, something she hadn’t realized possible until she had seen it herself. “But keep the memories coming.” Aka the compliments. She felt loved up and was very much in the mood to hear more. “What else did you think?”

Harry's eyes darkened slightly as her fingers ran through his hair. He loved it when she touched him like that, it sent shivers down his spine, making him want to lean into her like an eager pup awaiting pets. 

"Other things that cemented it?" He murmured, his hand on her hip giving her a gentle squeeze.  “There’s loads. Mm… I’d have t’say, the way you'd get all flustered when I teased you. The way you'd get all sarcastic and bratty when I annoyed you. How you were so confident and fiery, but at the same time so shy and sweet..." he trailed off, knowing he could go on for hours and hours when it came to what he loved about her. It was hard to get him to shut up about it, actually. 

“So you like when I’m bratty. That’s what I’m hearing.” She giggled, teasing him slightly despite him scolding her for it prior. “I think my moment was when you set up that whole thing on Valentine’s Day. Cause god knows you’ve got all the money in the world but you knew I hate fancy restaurants so you did like… the whole blanket fort thing. With the charcuterie board and champagne.” The dreamy sigh left her lips. It had stuck with her every day since. He may not even realize how important it had been for her, but Harry was the first person she’d dated who had ever made her feel that special. 

“You listened to me when I said what I liked. You got my favorite movie lined up and made me sweet and salty popcorn like I like. You even remembered you popped the wrong one and told me to wait and… I dunno.” She shrugged with her shy smile lighting up her face. “I knew I’d never find anyone else like you.”

Harry's gaze softened as she spoke, warmth spreading through his chest as she described his absolute favorite Valentine's Day. He hadn't known at the time it had been such a pivotal moment for her, but now it made perfect sense. His wife was sentimental that way. Something personal meant way more than the clothes he had bought her, or the house he’d got for them. His thoughts were everything to her.

He gave her a tender look, shaking his head, fingers tracing a gentle path along her arm. It was impossible to keep his touch from her, and he didn’t feel like trying. "You mean when I accidentally burned the salted popcorn?" He winced at the memory. It was a weird thing he always thought about, but in his defense the smell had been pretty bad. Thankfully he had air freshener on hand, though apple cinnamon didn’t exactly mask burnt popcorn. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was so focused on making sure everything was just right for you that I didn't pay enough attention to the microwave. Plus, your pretty face was distracting enough. Could barely form a proper sentence.”

The warmth flooded her tummy at the compliment, making her want to kiss him even more. It was held off considering she knew it would most definitely be something that got carried away, but that didn’t stop the urges. “I’ll be honest, I probably would have eaten the burnt popcorn. The fact that you’d even managed to remember those little facts about me had me like… giddy. I hadn’t felt that way about a crush since I was a teenager.” The admission came easily.  There was no shame in how much she loved Harry, even if she did tease him to say he was the clingy one. 

 Another question popped into her head, and considering he seemed happy to talk now that he’d had his beachside nap, she took advantage of it. “Were you nervous to propose?”

Harry's hand moved back and rested on her hip, his fingers rubbing over the soft skin as he answered immediately. 

"Nervous? Oh, absolutely. Fucking terrified, my love. Even though I knew you'd say yes, I was still nervous as hell." He let out a sweet hum,  softly, leaning in closer to her, his lips almost touching her ear as he spoke.  "The most nerve-wracking part was the time between when I proposed and when you actually said yes. It felt like the longest minute of my life..."

“You knew I’d say yes. C’mon, H.” Y/N’s giddy grin made it past her lips. It was weirdly satisfying to know he had been nervous because it meant he had been worried about the prospect of not being with her forever. It had always been her plan to say yes, but still. 

Harry chuckled again, his chest rumbling beneath her head "Yes, darling, I did know that." His hand slid under her chin, gently lifting her head to meet his gaze. How much he loved her was visible in his eyes. She’d never experienced visibly seeing love before him. 

"But that didn't stop me from being nervous. I was just so… desperate for you to say yes, to be mine forever. The thought of even a moment of hesitation..."

He shuddered slightly and his grip on her tightened ever so slightly "It would've killed me."

“Oh, baby.” She cooed, deciding to baby him a little bit. Hearing that vulnerability really did something to her, tangling her fingers into the hair at his nape. “I’ve been yours since you first kissed me. Y’know that?” Y/N had been completely smitten. It was borderline concerning until she had realized he felt the same. “I had the biggest crush on you when we first met. You only continue to get better and better every day.” 

Tossing her leg over her hip, she relaxed into his hold as she gazed over his pretty face. He’d let his stubble grow out a bit, albeit a bit patchy- the look suited him. “You’ve been my husband in my head for a long time. I don’t think I could have ever said no.”

Harry's heart skipped a beat as she spoke. He had always loved it when she got like this, all soft and gentle and sweet on him. It was hard not to be greedy for this sort of affection. The feeling of her tangling her fingers in his hair combined with the press of her body against his had a shiver running down his spine.

"S’That so?" He purred, his voice making her squirm. "Because you’ve been mine since the moment I saw you, darling. You were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen in my life, and I knew I had to have you. You belong with me, you always have."

The slight possessive speak made her throat thicken, tummy warm, between her thighs throb a little bit. The tenderness in which he spoke had her melting and it had nothing to do with the beachy heat. This was exactly why she knew she had made the perfect choice with him.  Her body knew it was him before her head even did. Her heart? Even before that. “Yeah? I’m yours?” She cooed, brushing her nose against his.

Harry groaned softly as she brushed her nose against his, his eyes falling half-lidded. "Mmm, yeah. You are. You're mine. All mine."

His voice was a low rumble, his grip on her tightening as he spoke. "No one else will ever touch you, darling. You belong to me. I won't ever share you, no part of you is for anyone else but me."

Y/N let out a breathy gasp as his hand skipped over her ass, under the bikini bottom’s to hold bare skin. The flesh was squeezed, heat spreading between her legs as the little grab only managed to make it worse. She couldn’t control it even if she tried. 

“H! There are people around.” She squealed nervously, but didn’t move his hand. The people were far away, the beach not too crowded, but she had to say it. It wasn’t unlike him to grab a feel, but he had no intentions of moving his hand. The man had been insatiable since their wedding night with no sign of stopping. 

Harry gave her a sly simper as his hand squeezed her ass again, kneading lightly. He knew they were technically in public, and he didn't care in the slightest. It was more exciting this way, he loved the danger of being caught, the thrill of almost being seen… he was on his honeymoon with his wife. Nothing else mattered.

"I don't care, darling. They can't see us over here... Besides, we're on our honeymoon. We can do whatever we want." Licking his lower lip as he pulled her closer to him, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

"And right now, I want you."

“Baby…” Y/N’s voice went all syrupy and whimpery as his tongue ran over her jaw, teeth stopping to nibble at her skin. “You’re gonna get me wet. And I’m still a little sore from last night…” 

Her face flushed at the memory of him pounding into her, desperate proclamations of love being panted into the air as he fucked her over and over. That had been intense and her poor body hadn’t fully recovered, but it couldn’t help but react to him. She wasn’t saying no though because… she didn’t want to. A glutton for punishment, maybe, but she craved him. Body, mind and soul. 

Harry's breath hitched as she whimpered, the sound going straight to his already thickening cock. The thought of getting her all riled up here, of making her feel good while hidden away did little but work him up further. Y/N had a master key to his body and just the tiniest noise, movement of word could have him undone at any moment. 

“H…” she whined, feeling his hand slip between them. Finding her already wet, she could feel him groan into her neck as he pressed kisses over her throat. “H- fuck.” 

Her pants did nothing to deter him. The slick sound of his fingers rubbing through her slit before finding her swollen clit was the loudest thing she could hear, over the music in the distance and the crashing waves. “God.. you’re so bad.” And it felt so good.

Her husband’s lips curled up in a lazy grin as his fingers slid effortlessly through the wetness of her cunt. He could hear her gasping quietly with every touch, and he knew she was desperately trying to keep it together. It was his job to undo her. "You love it when I'm bad, darling." He taunted, nipping at her neck. With a voice low and needy he continued whispering in her ear.  "See.. I think you love it when I'm naughty. Think that you want me to touch you, to slip my fingers over your needy cunt and make you feel good. Y’want that, don’t you baby?” 

Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned her head back, letting his mouth mark up her throat. It felt too good to stop him, and her body was aching for it. This was what a honeymoon was for. Wasn’t it?  

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. There was no use protesting when this was what she wanted anyway. “Just be gentle, please.” 

Harry hummed in agreement, his fingers still gently teasing her as he continued to mark up her throat. 

"Don't worry, baby, I'll be gentle. I'll take care of you, just like I always do." His free hand came up to cup her cheek, guiding her face up to look him in the eyes. 

"Just relax, my sweet girl, and let me make you feel good."

Her shaky breathing was only made worse as he made her look him in the eye as he pleasured her. The slick movement of his fingertips where she was swollen from his constant licking and rubbing and sucking had her head swimming, sensitive from the use she had been experiencing- but god, did she love it. 

She knew he was feeling even more worked up now that she was his wife officially, and he was letting her feel that. “You always make me feel s-so good.”

Harry's groan caught in his throat as he watched her, her eyes half-lidded and hazy with pleasure. He fucking loved seeing her like this, all flushed and breathless because of him. His fingers toyed with her still, slow and gentle as he tried to make himself wait. "Good, because I love making you feel good… S’my favorite thing."

He pressed a few kisses to her cheek, his nose skimming over her skin as he moved to whisper into her ear. It sent shivers over her body, hard to keep herself from losing it as he touched her, practiced and knowing exactly where to taunt.

"You're so damn perfect, darling. My perfect, pretty little wife, letting me do filthy things to you. Love you so much."

Her hips rocked in time with his fingers, eyes closing for a moment as he kissed her neck again before whispering in her ear. When he gripped her chin again, he made her watch his face as he slowly sunk a finger into her. It wasn’t difficult given how soaking wet her poor pussy was, but she still felt the stretch. It was hard not to when they were that thick. 

A high pitched whine was cut off as she bit her lip, face contorting slightly as she felt him begin to move it. “It’s not f-fair, how easily you can… you can make me feel crazy.”

Harry hummed as he watched her face twist with pleasure, his finger still lazily pumping in and out of her. Feeling the walls clench around him and slick up his finger, he couldn’t get enough of her.  "Mmm, I know, darling. I know everything that drives you insane. I know all your sensitive spots, where you like to be touched, how you like it when I talk dirty to you..."

 Leaning in and biting down gently on her earlobe, his voice a deep murmur in her ear. "And I love that I'm the only one who knows those things."

“Mhm, the only one. You’re the only one.” She agreed vehemently. The pleasure was smooth and slow, building up as the slick sound of his finger being inside of her made it even more hot. “And you’re the only one who’s gonna put a baby in me too.” 

Y/N knew just how crazy that sort of talk made him, discovered it not too long ago, and she was aware she was playing with fire. She knew that, and yet she continued. 

Harry let out a deep, loud groan at her words, the sound almost feral. If anyone was nearby it would give them away, but he frankly didn’t give a fuck. He loved it when she talked like that, so shameless and filthy. Meeting him where he was at. It was no secret that he had been on a mission this trip, but Y/N knew what she did to him when she brought it up. His free hand dug into her cheek, gripping her tightly as his finger curved inside her, pressing into the slick, spongy walls. 

"Yeah? You want me t’get you pregnant, little darling?" His breath came out in huffed pants as his control started to slip a little. A button being pushed, almost all the way down. “Want me t’knock you up? Think we should try again… If you want that.” The memory of him pulling his cock out to watch the creamy mix slip out of her cunt before pushing back in to keep some plugged up into her the night prior came rushing back. 

That was exactly what he was craving. 

“Yeah, I want to… I want you to do it on this trip. Please? Wanna make you a daddy.” She keened, knowing they had little time at the beach left. He was going to lose control soon, and that had been her quickly executed plan.

Harry's control completely snapped at her words. He let out a low, guttural moan, his grip on her cheek firm as he laid a deep kiss on her mouth, licking into it and feeling her desperate kiss returned before he pulled back with a grunt and wet lips. She was ethereal, even in filthy situations like this. With beachy hair and bleary eyes, swollen mouth and the golden glow of the setting sun on her skin. Every day, every moment served as a reminder as to why he was so lucky to have her.

“God, you drive me fucking insane, darling. Y’know exactly what to say to get me all worked up, huh?" It was clear he couldn’t take it anymore. Y/N had hit her intended target, and he couldn’t be out here any longer because he would definitely get caught with a public indecency charge. Fingering was one thing, but the things he wanted to do to her? They needed privacy. 

He withdrew his finger, his voice a gruff whisper as he spoke into her ear. "Get up. Now.” 

A cry of loss left her swollen lips as he stood up, not caring at all about the bulge in his pants. He grabbed the beach bag, tossing it over his arm and surprised her as he tossed her over his shoulder too. 

“Harry!” She squealed. “H- oh my god. You caveman!” He walked towards the villa with her tossed over his shoulder, like she weighed nothing. Like the blatant show of strength wouldn’t make her even more aroused. 

Her husband chuckled at her protest, his hand coming down across her ass to give her a sharp smack. "Hush, wife. I said I'd take care of you, and that's exactly what I'm doing."

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanon/s

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A/n: I genuinely couldn’t resist. I’m sorry.  This is also my first time writing headcanons that are NSFW! I hope you like it! And I based Sylus on that anonymous man that Rafayel was talking to, while it’s definitely inaccurate, I didn’t know where to base him from aside from the leaked trailer, I hope you like this one!

Masterlist

Pairing: Sylus x AFAB Reader

Warning: NSFW Up ahead! This is for 18+ readers. Stockholm Syndrome, TOXIC! Obsessive love, unhealthy relationship. Degradation

Tell me if I left a warning out, I’ll update this immediately.

Credits: The line dividers are from Kaomoji; the art is from Love and Deepspace ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

SFW: ✧ He’s the kind of person who won't hold back. After you were handed to him like a free meal, he decided that whatever you discussed with Xavier and Rafayel would fail, and he’d ensure it. Even if the plan was to infiltrate Onychinus, he would absolutely make sure it failed.

✧ When Rafayel handed you over to him, he was so elated that he ordered his men to take you to his home as soon as you were drugged, where you’ll be kept trapped. Unlike the other male leads, he isn't upfront but rather lurks in the shadows, stalking your every move.

✧ Even though he acknowledges your capability and doesn’t see you as a weakling, he will ensure you remain completely obedient to him. If you try to escape, he will isolate you further, providing only food and water to keep you alive. In his view, isolation is the most effective method of punishment, especially if it means breaking your spirit to force your obedience.

✧ He despises you. He hates how you make him feel like he's dependent on your presence, while you, on the other hand, don’t even know him, to himself, you were his whole world. Sylus won’t tell you how easy it is for you to have him under your thumb.

✧ You may hate him for your own reasons, and he can see it in your eyes. Yes, he might have been responsible for the explosion that took your childhood friend and grandmother, but it wasn’t entirely intentional. He didn’t expect you to come home so early that day; it was a miscalculation on his part.  He won’t tell you that though, he likes seeing you so focused on him with an emotion you would never feel for the other men in your life. The hatred fuels him.

✧ Now while he’s lenient with you growling and squirming like a mutt, if you try to bite and hurt him back, he’s going to make sure to put a collar around your neck, you’re being a bad pet. He’ll make sure that you drop that disobedience before he’s forced to make it leak out of you instead.

✧ If you start to relax, or simply get tired of trying to escape, he will reward you by letting you go out with him. However, if you try to speak or ask for help, the collar around your neck will inject you with drugs that will turn your brain to mush, ensuring you won’t betray him in public. Not that anyone would dare to save you; he’s confident a few people recognize him.

✧ Oh, don’t take him as someone reckless though, he takes extra measures to prevent you from acting out. Once he implements those safety measures, he’ll be happy to buy you outfits that fit his aesthetic, or anything you’d like really. Sometimes he’ll be nice to you, only sometimes.

✧ I think it’s obvious how he shows his hatred and love for you in these headcanons, he’s going to make sure to tear down that confidence you have, he’ll break you. One of his methods would be to have you be eaten by guilt till you start blaming yourself instead of him. He’s good with his words, he wouldn’t be gaining such loyal followers without it. ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

NSFW:

✧ BRAT TAMER TO THE FULLEST, he wouldn’t let you act out at all, if you tried, he’s gonna have you bent over the wall while he smacks your ass, making sure his handprint stays marked there. Till you can’t sit down comfortably, actually he won’t even let you test if you can sit down properly,  cause he’ll have you sitting on his lap, it can be during a meeting with his trusted companions, imagine a console table with almost 10 people along with him in front, while people are discussing their plans, you can’t even hear it properly cause of how deep his fingers are pumping in and out, his thumb pressing on your clit. If you let out a yelp he'd chuckle before nipping on your ear.

“Quiet, you’re distracting them” he’d murmur while squeezing your waist as a warning.

✧ While he gives off a vibe of being a dominant top if you want to ride him, he’ll let you, however with the condition that you make him cum before you do, which fails! Cause he has a pretty good endurance, you poor girl. Once he wins, he’ll flip you down, pinning your arms up while spreading your legs further, hand pressing on your soft tummy.

“Can’t even ride properly huh? You want me to do all the work pretty girl?"

✧ HATE SEX is one of his favorites, once you get the privilege to go out, if he ever sees you try to speak to another man aside from the bodyguards, he sent to watch over you while he’s busy, he’s going to use that as a reason to leave multiple marks on your body, specifically your neck. You can’t even hide it, along with the bite marks on your thighs. Oh right, not like anyone can see it, you’re forbidden from going out till he milks you of every orgasm he can pull out of you for the next few days.

✧ The type to finger you while you’re in public, if you’re wearing something short, like a skirt, he’ll lift it up, sliding his hand underneath your panty before fingering you. Make sure you don't make too much noise now, or people will notice, slut.

✧ He’s messy, the type to eat you out like a man starved, watch him suck on your clit while he pushes his fingers on your sweet spot, he had his arms wrapped around your thighs just so you don’t try to run away from his skillful tongue, the type of man to make you squirt and once he does he gets drunks over your taste, pulling away a bit just to look at you,

“One more, I know you can take it” he’d say before giving your puffy clit a kiss."

[haeryna]

in my dreams you love me back (i still love you) ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

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summary: soft moments with shoko keep your heart soft as well, but suguru finds something that he wasn't supposed to.

tw: sfw but vague mentions of losing your virginity. your mother MEDDLES but let's be real, we'd do the same. allusions to the bible for the aesthetic but also because i like the imagery of the themes. not proofread.

notes: title taken from red velvet's "in my dreams." the second half of "i would give up heaven if i had to." another short chapter because i split it in two originally! banner from @/cafekitsune

"You look like shit."

You can't stop the huff that escapes your mouth as Shoko peers at you from your phone, propped up against your rice cooker. She's somewhere in the United States right now, attending a medical conference. She isn't wrong; your ten minute break in the bathroom had turned into a full-blown half hour breakdown. Thankfully, none of your coworkers pointed out the redness of your eyes and the sallow tint to your skin. Your manager had practically forced you to go home early. They all assumed that you had broken down about how the Gojo Satoru had demanded you be the one to make his drink. At this point, you were too tired to correct them.

"I just got back from the cafe, leave me alone." Yawning, you reach for a bowl. "I'm starving and exhausted, and now you're going to yell at me, Sho?"

You can hear the heavy exhale, and the camera blurs as she lets out a cloud of cigarette smoke. "I never said that. Did you see them today?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Nobody else can make you cry that hard, and I know it wasn't me."

You hesitate for a moment. "Mom thinks I should hear them out."

"Personally, I would tell them I'll speak to them after a down payment of 5k."

"Shoko!"

But your laughter fills the air, and you can catch Shoko's self-satisfied smirk from the other end. "There she is." A soft haze fills your screen as her voice softens. "Do I need to fly back and tell the two of them to fuck off?"

"I can tell them to leave myself," you protest, but Shoko gives you a deadpan stare. "Okay, well, maybe it'll be hard."

As the silence falls, warm and comfortable, you bustle around the kitchen, spooning rice into your bowl of leftovers. The air is warm, and despite your exhaustion, you can't help but appreciate the dreaminess of the evening. Shoko watches you, dark eyes unreadable. "What?" you finally ask, curiosity lacing your voice.

"Just be careful," she sighs. "Satoru and Suguru will probably do some crazy shit to get you to notice them. I just don't want those idiots to scare you."

"They don't care enough to do that," is your sardonic reply, and this time, it's her turn to laugh.

"If you really think that, then you're blinder than I thought."

He is breaking me down on every side, and now it's too late for me; he has uprooted my hopes like a tree.

When the number of your old landline rings on Suguru's cellphone, he almost blocks it out of habit before he registers the last four digits. Panicking, he immediately accepts the call.

"Hey, is everything okay? I-"

Your mother's voice chirps back at him, a bit staticky from the old phone that he knows she'd insisted on keeping installed in the kitchen. "Suguru, dear, could you do me a favor?"

Ingrained instinct forces a "yes ma'am," from his mouth before he can even process the request. He can practically hear the smile in your mother's voice. "It won't take too long, don't worry. My back has been aching an awful amount after my last surgery, but I've been meaning to wear some of my old church clothes to Bingo Night. Would you mind grabbing it for me?"

The attic is cluttered and old, and the dust stings his eyes, but Suguru can't bring himself to complain as he begins to rummage through boxes. It feels like seeing you again, like being your Suguru again, as he unearths old photo albums, and stuffed toys. There was the rabbit you used to carry around all the time. A picture frame, of you, Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru one summer afternoon. Carefully, he wipes away the dust, smiling at the memory. You'd lost your front tooth that summer; now, it was forever memorialized.

Finally, he reaches a small collection of boxes in the back. The dress lays draped over a small stack of boxes, but as he grabs it, one topples over, spilling its contents all over the floor.

Suddenly, selfishly, Suguru is grateful that Satoru stayed behind back in their hotel room, because inside the cardboard box is envelopes. At least thousands of them, crammed into each possible corner, dates written on the front in the same handwriting you've had since high school. He tears open another box, only to find the same. Three whole boxes of letters. Selfish hope and heavier dread sinks into his skin like the dust that is slowly falling to the floor; Suguru has unearthed something that he knows he's not supposed to see.

Was this how Adam felt, holding the forbidden fruit in his hand? Which was stronger; the will of God, or the love of man?

"You will not certainly die,” the serpent said to the woman. “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.

He's almost frantic as he searches for the first letter, scattering them around himself until he finds it; labelled a week after Suguru had taken Satoru with him to pursue what they had believed to be an impossible dream. Suguru hesitates only for a moment, until with one decisive swipe, he rips the flap from the waxy paper beneath. This one is addressed to him.

Suguru,

My parents put me in therapy. Remember how we always used to joke that if anyone needed it, it would be you? Why did you leave me? What did I do wrong? It hurts, Sugu, why, why, why My therapist thinks that keeping letters will help, and my parents want me to at least give it a try. Mom won't say anything, but I know she's concerned. Dad's already torn into Toru's parents, so the whole town is fully aware of what they've done. Shoko says that they're practically livid with shame, skulking around the town as that'll fix their reputation. You missed it; there was one night when the fireflies came back, and I swear they filled the entire sky. It was beautiful. It reminded me of the first time we met, do you remember that?

I wish you'd been here to see it. I'm sorry, Suguru. I'm sorry that I wasn't good enough to take along. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you I love you. I hope you're safe. I hope you're taking care of Toru for me.

I love you so much that it's hard to be mad.

Water drips down onto the ink of where you'd signed your name, and with a start, Suguru realizes he's crying. Gently folding the letter, he sets it aside, and reaches for the next one.

Mom and Dad have what Grandma had. I'm scared, Toru. I wish you were here. You'd always say something silly that would make me forget for even a moment.

Another.

I saw you on the television today, Toru. You're so beautiful it hurts.

Another.

I've given up on properly going to college. They're so sick that I'm terrified to leave them alone.

More. More. More.

I try my best not to listen, but the radio in the coffee shop plays the songs you make, Sugu. I hate it, but it's selfish of me. The girl you sing about, does Toru get along with her? Does she make you happy?

He can't stop himself from reading any more than he can stop the tears pouring down his face. They'd missed so much of your life, and yet you'd dutifully written letter after letter, as if you'd planned on them seeing it. Like you hoped they would come back some day. The next letter was only written two years ago, but it turns Suguru's blood to ice.

I saw the scandal on one of the gossip magazines while I was out shopping for groceries, Toru. The Chanel model? Really? I was kind of hoping for the Gucci one, she seems so nice to her assistant.

I say this like you're a celebrity. A celebrity that I can just laugh at, and say "must be nice, having supermodels fall into your lap!" You were mine, once, long before you were hers. I love loved you.

I did something stupid, last night. Remember Kenji, from high school? The one you always hated? I can't even explain it, how furious I was, when I saw you with that model. You looked so happy, like it didn't matter that all your joy and abundance didn't come at my expense.

I ended up sleeping with him for the first time, with anyone for the first time really. I'm not going to write more; it's embarrassing, and it wasn't even good, but I think I'm more upset with myself. It doesn't matter.

It's not like you'll ever find out. Even if you do, it's not like you'll care.

It's not like my love mattered to you to begin with.

Suguru's chest feels as though someone has washed his heart in acid. On paper, the person you were after they left was more jaded. Less optimistic. You no longer spoke of things you wished they were able to experience with you, but rather all the things they'd left behind. You thought they didn't care, and as he forces his useless lungs to take another breath, he knows that he can't leave this town until he convinces you to come with him. As he stumbles down from the attic, dress in hand, your mother gives him a knowing stare.

"Did you find the dress I asked you to grab?"

"Yes ma'am," Suguru says numbly. It's all he says. It's all he can say. Your mother sighs, patting the chair next to her. "Why don't you call Satoru over, hm? Try some of the tea I bought. I remember your mother saying you only drink black. You really should call her more."

Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in?

"I'm home!" you call out, slipping your shoes off with one hand as you balance the full bag of groceries in the other. "Did you take your medi-"

The carrots drop to the floor as you take in the sight of Gojo and Geto sitting at your kitchen table with your mother of all people. "What the fuck?"

Geto's eyes are rimmed red, like he'd been crying, while Satoru stares at you with a hint of anguish. "What the fuck," you repeat again, dumbfounded. "Why are you in my house right now?"

Geto opens his mouth to speak, but your mother waves it away. "You know how bad my back's been lately, I really wanted to wear that old emerald dress your father got me, do you remember?"

Stunned, you can only nod.

"And, I didn't want to have you come all the way back from the city just to grab a dress for me, so I called over Suguru and Satoru to help me out," your mother finishes. You can't stop the panic from leaking into your voice.

"Where was the dress?"

From the look on their faces, you know that Geto and Gojo have found it. All the letters you were too weak to send, too weak to throw away. How much did they read?

"The attic, dear," is your mother's quiet response, and when you turn her attention to her, you can see the quiet love and encouragement in her eyes.

What's more important? The love for all the things they did do, or all the things they didn't?

White noises rushes into your head, and you can barely process your mother's departure. Something about Bingo Night? The door clicks shut and you're left with silence so profound that your body almost instinctively crumples in on itself. Suguru can't look you in the eyes, absentmindedly tracing the rim of the delicate porcelain teacup that looks comically small next to his calloused hands. Satoru merely watches, but you can see the tension in his neck, in the way his fingers flex around empty air.

So, you do the only thing you can do. You run.

Turning, you all but sprint up the stairs. You lied. You couldn't do this, couldn't face them, see them, hear them-

Toned arms reach around from behind, pulling you decisively to a well-defined chest. The air is forced out of your lungs as you yelp, squirming out of the hold, only to freeze as Satoru places his cheek on your head, nuzzling into your hair.

"I missed you."

Tears spring to your eyes but Satoru keeps going. "You were the only thing that kept us going. Our apartment was so shitty, we had to put cardboard on the floor just to keep warm. I thought of you all the time. I thought of which stage outfit you'd like better, how you would get along so well with the other members of the group. We didn't forget you. We love you too much for that."

"Stop," you choke out, as your legs crumple under you. Satoru catches you, tugging you further into him, as tears trickle down your face. A blurred shape; Suguru, kneeling in front of you, gently taking your hands in his.

"One chance, princess," he breathes. "Give us one chance to explain ourselves. After that, we'll do whatever you want, give you whatever you want. We've only ever been yours."

[justasecretflower]

~🪻 sdv men as boyfriends headcanons ~

Incl- Alex, Elliot, Shane, Sam, Sebastian, Harvey, Willy, Gunther, M. Rasmodius (Wizard.)

You look lost, visit my garden?

Alex

- He’s the type that’ll make you become apart of his workout. Lemme explain..

- he kisses you in between every push-up and crunch.

- you sit on his back during pushups

- he sees how many times he can deadlift you. (It doesn’t matter what size you are, yes, he can deadlift you.)

- “babe” “baby” “sugar”

- D1 YAPPER.

- he’ll talk your ear off about his childhood, gridball, his feelings when he first met you.

- he’s GREAT to have conversations with because they keep going on for hours.

- when he cuddles you he like..crushes you. He always ends up snoring loudly, drooling on you, and his whole muscular body right on top of you.

- touchy touchy TOUCHYYY.

- he’s the type to run up to you and spin you around then hug you saying how much he missed you. Even if you’ve only been gone for like 5 minutes

- he doesn’t cry often, thinks it makes him weak, but the one day that you got him crying in your arms, your fingers in his hair and quietly whispering that it was okay, he literally fell in love again x2 harder.

Elliot

-…🙄

-CORNYYYYYY

- you alr saw that coming though.

- writes you poems and puts them under your pillow like a tooth fairy..

- he likes holding you. Makes him feel like he’s a protector.

- romantic home dinner dates with balloons, rose petals galore, candles, fancy table cloth, ect.

- love language is words of affirmation muahaha..

- “my love” “my dearest” “my darling”

- tells you everyday how much he loves you in old Shakespearen English

- slow dances in the living room with you.

Shane

- he’s really insecure and gets jealous easily.

- it’s like. You’re talented, hard working, beautiful, how could you ever like him?

- in his eyes, he was old, washed up, no longer a fit gridball player, alcoholic, suicidal.

- he distances himself from you whenever he has these episodes.

- it’s really bad, he knows, but he doesn’t want you to know how insecure and helpless he is.

- you do find out, and you hold him.

- his safe space, his savior, is you.

- he gets better for you, for himself, and for everyone around him and he constantly tells you how much you’ve saved him.

- “doll”

- he gets a new coat and has your initial on it with a heart (Marnie sewed it)

- DAD BOD.

- movie nights. Not those aesthetic ones. The messy ones.

- the ones where you have dirty plates on the floor, pizza rolls, a bag of candies in between you and popcorn on the couch.

- it’s comfy, and it’s fun either way.

Sam

- he’s so cute.

- “babe” “baby”

- DEFINITION of golden retriever bf

- skateboards over to your house.

- he gets cuteness agression😭.

- he just randomly, aggressively, nuzzles your shoulder, or pecks a thousand kisses all over your face.

- makes songs for you and sings them to you.

- his favorite place to kiss you is your shoulder. Not even sexually he just loves kissing your shoulder.

- teaches you how to skate so that you can skate with him.

- he’d def be that cliche that’s like. Tried to flirt with you by leaning on the doorway but missed the doorway💀 (SAME WITH ALEX)

- He likes skating dates, MESSY cooking dates, and playing just dance with you.

- owns an “I love my girlfriend” t-shirt and wears it all the time. No shame

Sebastian

- kisses the tips of your ears and nose.

- very soft and gentle kisses.

- black cat …muahahhaaha

- he likes to make bracelets with you!

- matching bracelets

- also, matching pjs

- movie nights are the best with him. Matching pjs, snacks, cuddles, the rain pattering in the background.

- he’s a listener, not a talker.

- he said he can listen to you talk for days.

- of course, he mumbled that while flushed but he still said it.

- you’re his comfort person.

- he gets insecure but he doesn’t project it on you, just gets extra clingy.

Harvey

- HARVEY!!!

- he gets flushed easily if you flirt with him.

- he goes on rambles about medical stuff and it just 😩

- takes care of you while you’re sick. Carries you to a bath with salts and bubbles in it, cuts up fruits, feeds you, helps you drink water, dab a cold rag on your forehead.

- he’s super romantic, makes you dinner sometimes and makes it healthy / canon

- kisses your forehead to get you to wake up in the morning.

- breakfast in bed on your anniversary.

- he’s a family man / canon

- give him a picket fence life /srs

- he likes kissing you deeply. Just pouring his whole heart into it.

Willy

- he likes fishing with you, if you don’t know how, he’ll stand behind you and guide you.

- “darlin” “hon” “pretty thing”

- puts your initial on his favorite fishing pool.

- he likes you sitting on his lap, just because he likes to be close to you.

- date nights on the beach, or on his fishing boat watching the stars together.

- OH GOSH THE QUIET MORNINGSSSS

- he gets up “bright and early” so he just holds you, whispers in your ear with a raspy morning voice, gently kissing your shoulder “g’mornin pretty thing”

- really values quality time, even if you’re not talking just sitting near him while he’s fishing.

- definitely thought he was gonna stay single until he died before he met you, like he wasn’t even being pessimistic, just thought that he wouldn’t find anyone in that small town.

Gunther

- I feel like he would’ve messed around when he was younger but never settled down.

- so when he moved to pelican town, he never expected to meet someone that would make him wanna be all lovey dovey and stuff.

- teaches you about history. His head in your lap, hand up to your cheek gently stroking it with the pad of his thumb as he yaps on, with a deep, smooth voice.

- remembers everything about you. Every detail even if you were just mentioning it in passing.

- “hon” “my darling” “love”

- date nights are those little missing persons cases (the fake ones), discussing history under a willow tree, taking small naps intertwined I

- prolly has a kid from a hookup…sorry?!

- not much for physical affection, but he’ll indulge a little, hand holds, cheek kisses, kisses.

- his love language is acts of service 100%.

M. Rasmodius Wizard

- he kinda watches you with his magic..not creepily !!

- stops you from falling all the time.

- “my love” “dearest”

- not touchy, but shows his love for you with actions.

- gifts you flowers, makes you food, cleans your room for you.

- fine..he’ll go to the flower dance for you.

- he’ll just end up dragging you to a secluded area to do the dance tho.

- it’s kinda cute ngl.

Tags

[currentloser]

it's not healthy, but it's with you

kwon ji-yong x reader word count: 1533 content warning: smoking summary: ji-yong asks you to meet with him to smoke on the balcony together.

a/n: this is a shorter self indulgent smoking fic purely because i enjoy the aesthetic, for me the scent is nostalgic and romantic. if you don't enjoy it, this will not be the fic for you 🙇‍♂️

( ao3 link )

Your struggle to wake always came with a blur of colors, groaning as you tried to shy away again from the outside world. Uncaring to your discomfort, your alarm continued to signal in your ear. Groaning, you grab your phone and shut it off, letting it sit in your hand as your eyes fluttered closed again. The day didn't have to start yet, or so you wanted to tell yourself. Just as you rolled over to get comfortable again, your eye caught on a bright yellow shape on the pillow next to you.

Confused, you raise an eyebrow and grab onto the edge of it. A small sticky note adheres onto the edge of your finger and you bring it to your eye to read it, curious. ‘Care to join me for a smoke?’ It wasn't signed, but it didn't have to be when you could recognize that handwriting so easily. Of course, too- the only person in their right mind that would wake up first thing in the morning to invite you to smoke with him: Ji-yong.

Crawling out of bed, you rub the sleepiness out of your eye and stick the note onto your side table. You'd keep it as a sort of token of appreciation for later. You yawned and stretched, pulling yourself out of your loose clothing into those meant to be outdoors. You decided on a long-sleeve for the brisk weather, stepping through your already open doorway. You could only picture Ji-yong sneaking across your room, tiptoeing to leave the note to you before disappearing off to the shared balcony.

Squinting against the harsh sunlight, you step out into the breezy yet calm morning weather, “Good morning.”

Your voice comes out as a yawn, turning your gaze to the idol. He leaned back against the wall, turning his head toward the wind to direct the smoke away from you. The smell of it somehow brought you home, standing beside him as he worked off his cigarette. Half of it was still leftover, a telltale sign he'd woken up only a little while before you had. Usually he'd be up a little earlier than you, and it made you wonder if he waited for you.

“I thought I might see you,” He nodded to you, taking in a deep inhale of the smoke and blowing it out through his nostrils.

You roll your eyes at his attempt to act cool in front of you, “Yes, you invited me. Why wouldn't you see me?”

Flicking off the excess ash with his pointer finger, he reaches into his pocket. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, shaking it against his side before he  offered it to you. You take the box gingerly, taking out one before pushing it back into his hand. You feel at your pockets, sighing as you realize you forgot your own lighter. You felt silly, he'd invited you onto the balcony for just this.

Ji-yong perked up beside you, taking the cigarette and placing it into your mouth. Before you could question him, he tilted his head and leaned in. He shifted the cigarette in his lips to meet the unlit end of yours, keeping his gaze on the two ends placed together. As his sparked, a fire caught in your own and started to burn the end of your own.

“Smoking isn't good for you, you know,” He teased as he broke the close contact, tugging it away from his lips and blowing out a circle of smoke.

He was a damn showoff when he wanted to be. You took a breath of your own, the close contact making your hands shake. Being so close to him, even for a moment, was exhilarating. Forcing yourself to steady, you look out on the skyline of the city and sighed. The sun had risen, shining through the high rise buildings and illuminating through the clouds like a painting.

Beside you, Ji-yong took a step forward and leaned against the railing to look out to the streets below the two of you. His figure managed to look lonely and inviting all at once, and you quickly joined his side. Together, the two of you shared the silent morning filled with birdsong and the rushing of cars as the two of you smoked together. The idol pressed his elbow against yours as you finally stamped out yours, tossing it into the ashtray.

His arm curled over yours before you could step back inside, slowly traveling up your arm before meeting your hand and lacing your fingers together. He squeezed your hands together, his grip warm and his hand easily eclipsed your own. A flush rose to your cheeks, daring to glance at the man so close to your side. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, your voice coming out much quieter than you intended.

When he liked to, his gaze managed to be intense, “I'm holding you here. It's a nice morning, let's stay here a while.”

The smell of smoke had dissipated, leaving only the scent of his cologne and his gaze keeping you in place. It felt a bit silly when you only planned to step back inside, how he held onto you more like a lifeline. He was surprisingly clingy when he wanted to be, and you allowed his grasp and pressed closer to him. You wanted to show him you wouldn't leave just yet, giving him that close contact he sought out.

“This was an excuse to get me alone, wasn't it?” You point out, squeezing his hand tightly until you could feel his rings rub against your skin.

“Was it that obvious?” He chuckled, returning the squeeze of your hands and leaning in to nuzzle against you like a cat, “Well, it worked. I like having you beside me.”

“Ji-yong,” You pout, turning your heat to look at him properly and playfully blowing at your mouthful of hair before he turned to you, “Don't tease me.”

Your foreheads pressed together, Ji-yong struggled to hold your gaze. For once he was the one to show signs of pink creeping over his face. The moment of fluttering didn't last though, as he quickly regained confidence and boldly reached out to grab the bottom of your chin and tug away. Like this the view of him was much less silly, and much more like a tease at a kiss.

“What if I'm not?” He asked, his gaze flickering from your lips to your eyes again and again, “Maybe I saw it as an opportunity to get closer.”

In the back of your mind you picture yet again the image of your cigarettes pressed together in an indirect kiss, and now. His head was tilted, grabbed onto your chin and moments away from sealing the distance. The bold behavior strongly clashed with how he'd usually act bashful, an entirely different Ji-yong. He was as confident as he acted on stage in front of you, that blending of himself and G-Dragon.

“Then you ought to do something about it,” You challenge him, daring him to give a straight answer rather than dancing around it. 

With a glint of mischief, Ji-yong grins and pulls you in, gently squeezing at your chin and pulling you in. He was warm as the sun shone on the two of you together. His kiss was soft and sweet. He reached around you, grabbing onto the back of your head and holding you in place as he kissed you. Caught in the middle of the kiss, your wide eyes finally fluttered shut as you properly returned his kiss. Instead of over flowers or at a date, he confessed in the most surprising way. Somehow, you couldn't bring yourself to be upset.

You reached up and tugged on his collar before gently pushing him away, holding onto a bundle of fabric from the front of his shirt. He sends a teasing eyebrow raise your way, and this time both of you flushed from the close contact. With a nervous sigh, you glance out toward the cityscape. Really, it took him long enough to finally admit it to you– of course you couldn't be happier than in this very moment, still a moment away from him.

“You're really romantic to have a first kiss after we shared a cigarette,” You tease him, reaching out and jabbing at his side playfully, “Take me to a date first.”

He gives a shocked, fake-offended gasp, “Wow,” He sighed with a shake of his head and a long sigh, “I suppose if I have to spoil you rotten, I'd be happy to.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes at him once again. You meet his gaze though, and it's a soft look you hadn't seem many times before. It told you this moment the two of you shared was something real, a quiet promise for the future. You squeeze his shirt one last time before letting go of him and pulling away from the close hold.

“I expect you won’t keep me waiting,” You hold back a squeal of joy and stick out your tongue to tease him before you step back inside, leaving him to consider your future date on the balcony.

taglist: @petersasteria

[lotusarchon]

I heard you write for POC? Could you write some sfw and nsfw headcanons of wukong reacting to the reader wearing waist beads, I don't think waist beads is very common in china so maybe it's his first time seeing them?

back to the kitty cause she's kinda pretty (sun wukong x reader)

content warnings: female reader, second pov (you/your), info gathered from wikipedia so may not be accurate completely, reader is of african descent (trini specifically because yes 🇹🇹), fluffy headcanons, sun wukong being curious as ever, nsfw headcanons, minors + ageless blogs DNI, gentle sex, p in v, cowgirl position, mild breeding kink

author's notes: okay so imma bfr right: this is the first time I've genuinely heard of waist beads, like ever, so Wukong here is a reflection of my own surprise and interest too

SFW;

𐙚 I can personally see Wukong being genuinely intrigued when you bring them up the first time. Mind you, he's never been beyond China and while he has borderline visited India on occasion, that really is about the limit he's done on traveling with his free time. So, naturally, his interest is piqued when you mention them.

𐙚 Wukong's the type of guy to ask you a lot of questions when curious. Though you haven't shown him the waist beads due to cultural reasons, he asks you a lot of questions, like what are their purpose, what do the symbolize, how are they made, etc. It's a good thing he has an amazing memory, but you have to pray he gives you a break between questions. (Which, knowing Wukong, might genuinely be never.)

𐙚 He gives you such a puppy eyed stare to see those waist beads 🥺 please show him, he's just so curious, and you love him, don't you? Don't you wanna show him your pretty waist beads? Pretty please?

𐙚 Dear god he's practically in awe. He wants to touch them so bad―he finds the uniqueness of the chosen gems and your favorite seashells handcrafted by your mother to be gorgeous. The way they settle against your skin and rustle when you move, gods he just wants to touch so bad, but at the same time, he respects you and wouldn't do anything that might make you sad.

𐙚 Consider him surprised when he finds out that in some cultures, the waist beads are intended to be seen only by your significant other. When you confirm he's the first, he is thrilled. To know that you trust him enough to show him…dear god this man is jumping up and down with utter glee. He is not shutting up about it and might also beat up anyone that asks to see it.

𐙚 If it was possible, Wukong would beg you to let him wear one too. He finds them cute and even aesthetically appealing, especially knowing that you don't need them to be all fancy looking or rich. Too bad he's not a girl…

NSFW;

𐙚 Watch him go from sad he can't wear one to intrigued when he finds out in (Igbo) culture, not only does a groom have to give his bride a Mgbájí (waist beads) to ensure her attire is complete, but it's pleasing to watch as the bride dances to her new husband.

𐙚 Well, you know Wukong. Till death till you both part, and he has zero intention of parting with you. You're both practically married at this, point, so wouldn't you love him enough to put on a dance for him, as good wife should?

𐙚 Of course, if you didn't want too, he wouldn't have forced you, but when you wholeheartedly agreed with his request, Wukong thought his dick was gonna bust through his pants.

𐙚 The way the beads looked against your dancing figure, your alluring smile…gah, did he mention how much he loves you? Because, he does, and once you're within grabbing distance he yanks you forward and smooches you so hard.

𐙚 Don't expect to have those waist beads removed, oh hell no. Wukong insists you keep them on, and while he strips you bare, he ensures they're not even hurt by his actions. He wants to see them on your body while he fucks you.

𐙚 His cock literally throbs inside you while you ride him, and the shift of your waist beads while his hands squeeze your ass and your arms are wrapped around his neck are enough to send him over the edge. It genuinely takes a lot for him not to just bend you over right then and there, because he likes watching the beads shift against your body while you bounce on him.

𐙚 Maybe it's your imagination, but you swear he mutters something about knocking you up? And getting you another pair of waist beads to match the one you were gifted with from your mother? Something about you being so utterly divine in this moment, the idea of stuffing you to the brim with his cum and having you as his wife forever and ever..?

𐙚 Long story short, Wukong gives you a baby and keeps his word about granting you another pair of waist beads with pretty flower seeds and shells. Yay.

@lotusarchon, 26.11.2024, all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

[kiame-sama]

Grim is definitely Star material! He looks so cute in the little clothes for each dorm!

Did some of the monster men help make him head accessories?

The headphones, Peacock hairpin(?) and little Diasomnia hat is adorable!

Sorry I’m currently very weak to cuteness at the moment 😭

Yes, actually! All of the Housewardens wants so badly for the Human to join their dorm, they decided to give Grim his own official uniform for their dorms to show- to both Grim and The Human- that they are welcome in the dorms at any given time.

In the Diasomnia uniform, Grim's sleeves are just a bit too long for his little paws, so they are covered up a lot like how Lilia has his hands covered by his uniform jacket. It took them a little bit to figure out how Grim's hat was supposed to sit on his head, so they decided he should have a little headband to keep it on him. He does get frustrated with the many belts, so more often than not, the Human has to dress up Grim in his outfit or else the kit will just wear the hat, maybe the pants, and call it good. Lilia was cooing over Grim the second he saw the kit dressed up in the uniform, even Sebek had to admit it is adorable. The entirety of Diasomnia adores Grim and will coddle him the moment they see him dressed up in the uniform.

Papa Hades was the one to make the miniature Ignihyde outfit, because he thinks Grim would look adorable in it- and he is right- wanting Grim to have a certain bond with Idia and Ortho through the outfit. The sleeves are also too long for his little paws, but he looks all the cuter for it. Idia is the one who added the headphones- that absolutely do not fit properly, given they go past his ears- but the Kit cried about not having headphones to the point Idia folded and made them purely for aesthetic reasons. Grim LOVES them. He can easily put this one on himself as it is just the pants, jacket, and headphones. Idia actually giggled when he first saw Grim in the uniform and is devoted to befriending the kit to get close to the Human and because he is obsessed with the idea of having a personal Hellcat due to the bond Shinigami often form with Hellcats.

Vil and Rook hand stitched the outfit and Vil even used one of his tailfeathers to make the headpiece, cutting it into a heart for the Kit and using Epel's blooms as inspiration for the more floral design of the cloth flower on the headpiece. The big bow on his back is purely decorative and is sewn into the outer clothes so it can't be messed up or untied. It is a good thing Grim's right eye doesn't work very well or else he would be extremely distracted by the dangling shiny stones on the headpiece. Those are actual gems on his headpiece, Rubies and Sapphires and there are even a few on the headband piece that holds the ensemble in place. Amethysts were used for his little shirt buttons. This is another uniform the Human has to help Grim put on given his paws are a little less coordinated with the buttons.

Kalim suggested it, Jamil made it. The golden bands and snakes are actually gold, and golden thread was used to make his clothes, so they shine like gold due to being actual gold. The little golden coins on his tummy wrap are also high quality gold. The eyes of the snakes are small rubies that were gathered in the Scalding Sands and carefully placed into the uniform. This one is a lot easier for Grim to put on himself. He likes the pants a lot on this uniform due to how loose they are around his legs and don't ruffle his fur.

Azul INSISTED that Grim get this uniform for himself, ensuring that every small detail- including Grim's ears- were accounted for. Despite how well fitting and tailored this one is, Grim dislikes it due to the numerous layers and buttons he needs to fiddle with just to get the clothes on. This is another uniform the Human has to help Grim adorn due to the buttons. The bowtie has to be tied around Grim's tracker so it holds itself in place and looks more natural on him.

Leona 'persuaded' his dorm members to make the uniform for Grim, from the leather jacket, to the distressed jeans, he wanted to make it clear that Grim was a member of the Pride. Where almost all Savanaclaw members have a similar necklace, Leona took it a step further and had Fallena actually commission the necklace to be made out of genuine gold and gemstones for the little kit. Grim adores how rugged it makes him look despite the pants being a little too fitted for his liking. When he wants to hype himself up, he puts on the Savanaclaw uniform to feel braver. This is an outfit that Grim can put on himself because it doesn't require a bunch of buttons or fine motor skills to adorn.

Riddle insisted that Trey and Cater help him craft the Uniform for Grim, giving Grim the Jack of Hearts as his card. Each part was carefully measured and adjusted so it would fit the Kit well. Grim likes the design of the uniform, but he hates those buttons and often needs the Human's help to put the uniform on as a result. He loves chasing the yellow and black ribbon tied around his waist and will even 'meow' at it when the Human tries to tie it around him. Much to Riddle's chagrin, Grim likes to suddenly spout off random rules- that are not actually Queen's rules- whenever he is dressed in the Heartslabyul uniform. Cater thinks it is hilarious.

[ocea1cperl]

Honey, Honey - GC (George Clarke) pt2, real life

George Clarke never even knew Lando Norris had a sister. well. that was until he was called to do karting alongside Quadrant. George Clarke x norris!oc Lando Norris x sister!oc| !!Warnings! Explicit language, Lando being a pest, Lando practically degrading himself, lmk if I missed any!!! | Personal warning! I'm from Aus, so if this isn't how British people say certain things that's why!! (I'm just going off what i've seen online, aka, ChrisMD videos, Sidemen, Arthur Hill... ect...)

────────────୨ৎ──────────── When Solane Norris got back from a brutal brand trip in New York City—with a bunch of influencer mates, half of whom were clearly just there to cosy up to her because of her brother—she was almost offended to see the man himself waiting for her at Heathrow.

When Lando had texted saying he’d pick her up, she didn’t actually think he meant it. Classic Lando, doing the most when he needed a favour.

She knew exactly what he was doing, too—playing the good brother card so she’d film some content for him. Whether it was for his YouTube or Quadrant (which, let’s be honest, had grown way past just being an Esports team), she wasn’t sure.

Solane let out a quiet groan, not loud enough to attract any attention, as she dragged her two bulky suitcases across the pedestrian crossing. She rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck.

He didn’t say a word—just popped the boot. Didn’t even offer to lift a single bag.

With a deadpan look, she slid into the passenger seat of his flashy Lamborghini Urus. Which was weird, considering he lived in Monaco now. Either it was new, rented, or—god forbid—he had it shipped over. She really hoped it wasn’t that last one.

“Did you close the back properly?” Lando asked.

“Yes, click and everything,” she muttered.

Lando nodded and pulled out of the parking spot, merging smoothly into traffic.

The car was quiet for a solid five minutes as they headed back to Solane’s flat—just the hum of the engine and the occasional blinker ticking.

“Can you film the Quadrant karting video, please?” Lando mumbled, so softly Solane almost missed it.

“Whyyyyy?” she groaned, sinking lower into the seat like it might help her disappear.

“Becauseeee,” he whined back, glancing at her with a cheeky grin.

“Please, it’ll be fun, promise.”

“Nothing’s fun when Max Fewtrell is there,” she shot back without missing a beat.

“That’s not true—he’s heaps of fun!” Lando argued.

“Stop defending your boyfriend. He’s a moody little bitch.”

“First of all, he is NOT my boyfriend. And second, you just don’t like him 'cause he likes me better than you. And clearly, the man’s got taste.”

“You’re right about one thing—I don’t like him because he prefers you. Everything else you just said is absolute nonsense.” “Everything I say is true,” Lando scoffed, shaking his head with a smirk.

“That’s very debatable,” Solane shot back.

“But seriously, I need someone to record. On camcorder. Gotta get those aesthetic shots—and as much as it pains me to say this, you’ve actually got decent photography skills.”

“Well, I bloody hope so, considering that’s what I went to uni for.”

“I forget you even went to uni half the time.”

“Clearly. You almost missed my graduation.”

“I did go!”

“Barely.”

“You were an hour late, Lando.”

“Yeah, well, that graduation cost me media day for whatever race was on that weekend. Got a fat fine for it too.”

“Oh, boohoo.”

“Mate, it was like twenty grand, just to watch you cross a stage and get handed a tiny piece of paper in a glass frame.”

“I’ve had to watch you step onto a podium and collect useless trophies for years.”

“They’re not useless! They come with bonuses.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, fair enough then. Keep getting podiums.”

“Oh, such inspiring words. I would love to get back-to-back podiums if I wasn’t so average.”

“You did last year—and you’re not average, Lan. You’re actually a bloody good driver.”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re my sister.”

“Maybe. But it’s still true.”

“Anyway, we’re getting side-tracked... again,” Lando huffed, trying to steer the convo back.

“Please, please, pleaaaase record for me,” he begged, dragging the words out.

“Alright, calm down, Sabrina Carpenter,” Solane teased.

“Shut up,” Lando grumbled — and, like fate was messing with him, 15 Minutes by Sabrina Carpenter started playing through the speakers.

“Oh, for fuck’s—” he started, but was cut off by Solane absolutely losing it next to him, laughing so hard she nearly doubled over.

Lando just rolled his eyes and reached for the volume knob, turning it down until the music was barely a whisper.

“Anyway,” he muttered, trying not to smile, “can you please, pretty please, with a cherry on top—and free paddock passes to any race you wanna go to this year—record the Quadrant video for me?” He flashed her a wide, desperate grin that wasn’t convincing in the slightest.

Solane raised a brow. “Are you actually gonna follow through on that? Any race?”

“Yes! When have I ever lied to you and broken a promise?”

“...Like half of our childhood,” she deadpanned.

“We were kids! That doesn’t count!”

“You still break promises now,” she muttered, looking out the window. “But fine. As long as I get tickets to whatever races I want.”

“That’s all it took?”

“Yeah.”

“The bar is in hell.”

“Trust me, I know,” Solane sighed.

[fawnme1]

THE SOFTEST THING — WILLNE

CHAPTER FOUR

previous part ,, next part

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

You weren’t supposed to be in the video.

You’d tagged along with Joe and Alfie mostly for moral support and free snacks. The Sidemen were shooting some kind of chaotic, unscripted Truth or Dare special, and they were short one person after someone bailed last-minute. That’s when Tobi looked at you and went, “Wait, get her in. She’s funny.”

Joe, of course, lit up like a christmas tree. “Yes! Oh my god, yes. She’s perfect.”

“She’s also not wearing makeup from camera,” you protested weakly, already knowing resistance was futile.

“That’s the raw aesthetic Gen Z wants,” Alfie said, throwing an arm ariound you dramatically. “It’s cinema, babe.”

And just like that, you were mic’d up and seated between Joe and Will on one of those weird gamer-style couches that didn’t actually support your back. The camera crew was setting up, lights glaring, and you were running through the very real possibility that this was going to end in public humiliation.

Joe leaned over, voice low. “Promise to pick truth when it gets to you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve been too mysterious lately,” he grinned.

“Joe.”

“I’m just saying. The people need to know.”

The shoot started.

Within minutes, it had descended into the usual nonsense: mini dares, oversharing, KSI doing a weird dance, and Vik being sneakily savage with his questions. You managed to stay off the radar for a while, mostly letting the chaos swirl around you.

Until it was your turn.

Tobi looked right at you. “Alright, you. Truth or dare?”

Joe didn’t even give you time to think. “Truth. She’s definitely picking truth.”

Will chuckled beside you, resting his arm on the back of the couch. “Safe choice.”

You narrowed your eyes at them both. “Fine. Truth.”

Tobi grinned like he’d just won the lottery. “Okay then. Is it true that—” He glanced at his phone like he was double checking the wording. “—you haven’t dated anyone in five years?”

The room erupted.

“OH MY GOD,” Joe wheezed, clapping his hands together.

Alfie fell sideways onto the floor with a dramatic gasp. “EXPOSED!”

Your mouth dropped open, equal parts horror and disbelief. “Who told you that?”

Will turned to look at you, fully now, brows raised. “Wait — for real?”

You blinked. “That’s… wow, okay. I thought we were doing like ‘what’s your favourite cereal’ type truths.”

But Tobi just laughed. “We go deep here.”

You took a breath, trying to will the blood out of your cheeks. “Yeah. It’s true.”

The room went quiet for a beat, only broken by Joe and Alfie’s combined gremlin giggles.

“She’s emotionally celibate,” Alfie added, wiping fake tears from his eyes.

“Full-on romantic nun,” Joe agreed, raising his bottle of water in a toast. “Five years strong.”

Will was still looking at you.

Not laughing. Just… surprised. Curious.

“Didn’t expect that,” he said under his breath, not loud enough for the camera to catch.

You shot him a sideways glance. “Why, because I seem so emotionally available?”

He smirked. “No, just… you sing like someone who’s been through it.”

Joe heard that and howled.

“Oh my god, this is killing me,” he wheezed. “The two of you sound like the start of an angsty music video.”

“You are the angsty music video,” Alfie added, still on the floor. “She’s giving heartbreak, and Will’s giving ‘guy who doesn’t realise he’s the problem’.”

Everyone laughed — including you — but you could feel Will still watching you out of the corner of his eye.

And later, when the cameras were off and the lights came down, he bumped your shoulder lightly and said, “Five years, huh?”

You nodded, trying to keep it breezy. “Life got busy.”

“Or maybe the right person never showed up.”

You didn’t say anything.

You didn’t need to.

Because for the first time in a long time, someone was starting to look at you like they might just want to be the exception.

The Sidemen vide blew up fast.

You woke up to hundreds of tags. Not dozens. Hundreds.

The comments had gone feral. TikToks were circulating, edits were made, and the clip where you admitted — on camera, no less — that you hadn’t dated in five whole years had gone ultra-viral.

“5 YEARS?? that’s not a dry spell, that’s a biblical drought”

“she’s so real for this. healing era icon.”

“joe and alfie’s reaction sent me to the moon”

“why does will look like he just found out she’s a disney princess with a tragic backstory??”

Someone even made a fan cam of your face, backlit in that Sidemen studio glow, overlayed with Lana Del Rey and the words “she deserves the world and also a midly sarcastic boyfriend.”

You laughed. You cringed. You considered moving to a remote forest.

But no one was letting it go — especially not Joe and Alfie.

And then came the ChrisMD pub crawl.

You hadn’t intended to be in that video either. But one “come on, it’ll be jokes” from Alfie turned into a full night of chaotic filming, multiple pubs, far too many pints, and an on-camera game of “Pub Truths” that immediately got out of hand.

You were two pints deep when Chris pointed a camera in your face with that smile that meant you should be worried.

“Right then,” he grinned. “Everyone wants to know — how long exactly has it been since your last date?”

Groans and cheers exploded around the table.

Joe physically clapped. “YESSSSS. Get in there!”

“Run it back!” Alfie yelled. “Five years and two months now, don’t lie!”

Will, sitting across from you with a half finished cider, looked up — smirking, but clearly listening.

You blinked. “Is this my punishment for having a career?”

Chris leaned closer. “So? Confirm the timeline. The people need to know.”

You sighed. Loudly. “Fine. Five years, three months, and…” You paused, checked your phone. “Seventeen days. Happy?”

The table screamed.

“No way you’re tracking it that precisely,” Chris said, wide eyed.

“She’s counting like it’s a prison sentence,” Joe said through tears.

“She’s like those girlboss wolves who wait for one mate their whole life,” Alfie added.

Will nearly choked on his drink.

You covered your face. “I hate you all.”

“You love us,” Alfie grinned. “And also you’re lying. You’ve definitely flirted.”

“I’ve flirted for sport. That’s not dating.”

“Iconic behaviour,” Joe muttered. “Tactical flirtation. Maximum power, no commitment.”

Chris was still cackling. “No but seriously, no dates? None?”

“Not one where I actually liked the guy back,” you said honestly.

That shut everyone up for a beat.

And then Will said — so casually it could’ve passed unnoticed: “Well, you’ve got high standards. That’s not a bad thing.”

Joe caught it. Alfie caught it. You definitely caught it.

The camera probably did, too.

And from the way Will didn’t even pretend to be embarrassed about saying it, you knew he meant it.

The next day, your mentions were in meltdown again.

This time, it wasn’t just “5 year dry spell girl.”

Now it was:

“she’s the heartbreak popstar and he’s the sarcastic youtuber… they share ONE drink on a pub crawl and i’m writing vows”

“this is the slowest of burns and i’m obsessed.”

“her saying ‘that’s not dating’ while will looks at her like THAT? yeah i screamed”

Your group chat was on fire.

Joe: ur a menace and ur fans want you to marry will

Alfie: i say u milk it. fake date him for views

Joe: or real date him for love

Alfie: LAME

Joe: grow up

And then —

You got a DM.

WillNE: just watched the chris video

you’re dangerously good at not getting flustered

next time i’m raising the stakes

(aka: i’m calling the next pub. don’t ghost me.)

You stared at the message for a good ten seconds, heart doing a thing it hadn’t done in — well, five years and seventeen days.

And maybe the streak wasn’t technically broken.

But something had definitely cracked.

[imlosingitiswear]

would love to hear your breakdown of the most egregious things the new season’s animation has done to the og intent of the manga (comparisons and all).

(note: i’m an animator and i agree with you i just wanna see what you’re specifically thinking of)

Oh boy

Ohhhh boy

Spoiler alert for ep 3 and comparison to the same scenes in the manga.

Also tw for some triggering moments from ep 3, please proceed at your own risk.

So this is going to be part 1 and I'm gonna start with shrimple 🦐 things because I don't have my big tablet with me so the suggestions are made with what I have available.

So first of all, the RCiel flashback, absolutely disgraceful execution.

I'm not going to go into it fully yet, but for example this scene:

In the manga you can see the horror in his eyes.

When using only black and white, one is forced to convey emotions in their most pure form because of the color restrictions. That's why it works so well, plus Yana is a master of shadows and compositions primarily containing black.

The "animated" shot does not convey even remotely the same emotion for me.

Firstly because of the style they have chosen. You can't have his eyelashes be this bright and expect to portray fear properly.

Secondly because of the colors.

IT'S SO DAMN BRIGHT.

Yes, the manga is also bright but that's because it wants to point your attention to his eye. And the emptiness that comes with the terror in it.

The blue in his eyes and the two highlights ruin any convincing part of this shot left. Too much detail, TOO MUCH. It works in the manga because it's made with as little lines as possible, the detail takes away the effect.

So here is what I added according to what I mentioned:

It's darker on the side, creating a greater contrast with the eye. I have included only one highlight, just like in the manga and have made the eyelashes darker. I also added a bit more detail under the eye for a stronger effect (just like it's done in the manga).

Here's a gif to show the difference:

(Please keep in mind I'm not claiming to be an expert and I'm not claiming to be better than the studio itself, this is just how I would have done it to fit the aesthetic and story better)

The next one is Sebastian related.

I hate his new design.

Bro he's so petite and shiny, WHY ARE THEY ALL SHINY, SINCE WHEN anyway

Here's one shot I took of his face that annoyed me to hell and back

Who is this man.

Is Tamatoa gonna come for him soon, what's the deal?

So I used Book of Atlantic as reference and fixed his face a bit. I also made the shot darker because OF COURSE IT WILL BE

(Once again, it's not the best, but at least the hair reminds of the og Sebastian and at this point, that's enough for me)

Here's the gif

And for last, another Seb related

He's giving again, he's a bit, just a tiny bit more serious again, you see how big of a difference to his personality it makes.

It's paying attention to those details that keeps a character in character.

It's this scene from the manga:

I love it's composition because look at how full and sad and overwhelming ociels panel is compared to how small and cornered sebs one is.

Not only is he so small, but he's also off center IN HIS OWN panel, pushed as much to the left as he can be to portray how distant he is to ociel now.

Its not about the speech bubble, it's about unconsciously separating them from one another.

And here's what the stupid ass studio decided is best

SMACKED HIS AAH IN THE MIDDLE, TAKING vertically 2/3 OF THE SHOT.

EHM

WHAT

Also IT'S SO BRIGHT YET AGAIN.

He's supposed to be lonely in this shot, left aside, pushed away, unwanted.

DON'T PUT HIM IN THE MIDDLE YOU DUMMIES FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

I put him in the first third of the composition, put the light source off camera, cus we don't need that brightness, fixed his hair and made IT DARKER YET AGAIN. I also had to draw some of the background, I hope it doesn't stand out too much.

ANYWAY.

No gif cus there's a 10 pic limit that I didn't know about.

This is just the first part, I'll get to the animation and specific scenes later. I know I didn't cover any of the important ones but I can't do much without my tablet 😔

All of those shots, that mind you, 2 of which are not even animated at all aside from Sebastian's mouth, took me less than 2 hours to work on. Yes, the base was already there, but that little effort makes THE DIFFERENCE, IT MAKES SUCH A DIFFERENCE!!!

Once again, I'm not claiming to be an expert, I just really love this story and want it to get the care and proper adaptation it deserves.

And if you think I'm being nitpicky...

Yes.

I absolutely am.

Because that's how you make a high quality product.

By THINKING. And making THE APPROPRIATE CHOICES TO MAKE THE WANTED EFFECT EVEN STRONGER.

Wow I feel better.

Can't wait to get to the animation heheehehhe

Thanks for the request btw, you're awesome, let's colab and fix it together :3

Bye now, see you soon, keep arting!!!

[weebsinstash]

wait.

wait-wait-wait-wait-wait-wait

have you seen arcane?!??

if you haven’t yet you should because I could thirst for DAYS over the main characters!

you should’ve seen how victor is with jayce yes-like there is a scene where he is basically straddling him?!? (im mean technically ‘he ’ wasn’t doing it, but he was puppeting the body that was so it still counts)

and let’s not get started about jayce and Mel.

or vi and cait in episode 8.

I don’t know if you’ve seen it or not so I’m going to calm down so I don’t spoil more if you haven’t

just…almost everyone in the main cast is hot, like seriously.

I need you to understand that basically within 5 minutes of me realizing Viktor would be good yandere material at least for the kinds of things I like, a little voice in my brain was going, "yeah and if you wanted to, you could include his jock boyfriend as a 2 for 1 deal!"

Arcane is another one of those things where I haven't fully officially sat down to consume it BUT it became so huge that it was all over YouTube and yt shorts. Yt shorts are AGGRESSIVE when it decides it wants to start feeding you something. Apparently it's convinced I would really like Doctor Who and keeps showing me scenes from like three specific episodes?

But yeah my algorithm was feeding me tons of Arcane content, and then I started watching specific scenes and listening to the music, and I essentially have a pretty good vague overall grasp of the plot, like, in its full entirety from jinx and silco, to the tea party, Ekko leaping through time, Mel getting those Extremely Aesthetic gold stripes. I've wanted to watch it in its entirety, though? I can probably easily pirate it from somewhere

I admit I'm a fake bisexual on how extremely off and on and specific my tastes in women can be so I'm not sure if Vi or Cait are really growing on me from romantic/sexual standpoints, but 👀 Ambessa is definitely uh 👀 you know I have a type for the taller ones that make me feel small and helpless and she's definitely 👉👈 tough and scary and domineering 👉👈 her checking out that younger guy and then just smiling to her daughter "I'm off to sample the local cuisine" like.... queen shit fr

But yeah over the last year I've been recovering from a fall at work that kinda fucked up my knee and I've been having to do PT and I've gained a deeper soft spot for specific characters and plot lines involving disability, either a yandere caring for a disabled darling, or you both being disabled, or things along those lines. Viktor's own journey from a sickly young boy unable to chase after his toy to a young man curing himself and immediately sprinting for the first time in his life, it's all very, personal now. I mean I always apparently had a disability I was born with and didn't know about until my 20s, but especially now that my knee gets in the way of activities sometimes.

I can just picture like... oh you're just this poor mousy little thing from the Undercity who bumps into him for whatever reason and he sees you have a cane just like him, or maybe you're too poor for even a cane and have some sort of improvised walking stick, and he just immediately empathizes with your situation. Like i have several ideas but I can just picture, stereotypical "we were both lost in thought and collided and we went around the corner" and you get knocked over and Viktor recognizes the fear in your eyes as you look him over, from his clean clothes to maybe even his companion Jayce being there, fearing you're going to be punished or harmed, clearly accustomed to the violence of the slums. Viktor sees himself in you as you're clearly realizing your situation and how easily you could be hurt given that they have not just power but privilege over you

Both of them taking pity on you because, oh you poor thing, how awful it must be for you to have such little help for your condition. Are you hurt from the fall just now? Let them help you out as an apology for knocking you down. Do you need a cane that's fitted properly? What about a stabilizing brace for your leg. You have hip and back problems too? The two scientists are practically drafting up schematics for all sorts of proposed solutions within the hour--

On one hand I'm like "oh what if they encourage and help you get a better education because you show promise" and then im like "but what if they think it's cute how little you know as someone from the Undercity who didn't get a decent education and they like how much you have to rely on them and ask them for things"

Viktor being against ableism without realizing he's doing it to you by subconsciously infantalizing you over your vulnerable state with not just your physical disability but if you're also potentially neurodivergent as well, whereas Jayce infantalizes you for being this :) little cute. dumb. poor. low born little thing :)

They find out you live in some absolutely dingey shitty fucking place or somewhere straight up unsafe and they're immediately just, really kind of refusing to let you stay there anymore? Just strong-arming you, "b-but I live here--" "not anymore" "no" "absolutely not" "we can hire movers, it's fine" "but-" "you'll like being somewhere new, relax"

Some scenario where they, move you into a new place to live, suddenly you've got access to all these things you didn't before, bathing regularly, new clothes, full meals, safety, mental stimulation, purpose and labor but without the desperation and fear. You can exit your building and jog around the neighborhood without fear. But, the control over so much of that rests within THEIR hands. One or both of them pays for your housing. Perhaps you even share many of your meals in their direct company. Do you have new medications they helped you obtain? Do your new mobility aids need some tweaking every now and again? Do they help provide EVERYTHING for you 'just until you get on your feet' and then stand in your way every single time you try to do something that would bring you closer to that goal?

No no, don't worry about paying them back for everything they're paying for, they're doing it out of the goodness of their hearts :) no no, you don't need to get a job right away! Or, at all ever again maybe, like wouldn't that be so funny haha, just kidding lol, unless????? :) ha ha, oh my gosh that's just so silly, they told you to take advantage of living in this nice neighborhood they moved you into that's near them and told you to enjoy your life and it's just so wacky and silly and crazy but you did exactly just that and you've been doing fun stuff but with other people and not them haha that's so weird? :) don't worry if they keep acting like there's still stuff they need to help you look out for and help protect you from even after moving you into this little situation where they already hold all the power, I'm sure it's totally fine? :) oh wow they caught you out at a bar or something getting friendly with a guy and one of them just outright refers to you as disabled and accuses the guy of exploiting you somehow, wow isn't that so quirky, they're just having a boy-moment lol? :) honey they just want to make sure no one hurts you and that's why it's completely 300% justified they put a tracker in the special leg brace that they designed that helps you move around every day :)

whaaaaaaat, you think they're being creepy? Well, sweetheart, with the life you've lived in the Undercity, they can see how you might come to THINK you believe that, but that doesn't mean it's true :) you're just so used to living in the danger and the dirt and the grime that you're not used to being safe, and they can understand that, and they're here to help you through the adjustment process of, your new life :) permanantly :) never going back to the Undercity :) staying with your new male companions :) and maybe marrying one or even both of them :) they know best, so trust them! :)

[calware]

Can I ask you for what it is about Hal you like so much you based your username on him? I think he's a good character tho he was never a favorite of mine so I am curious

1. i am a big fan of robots (/robot adjacent things such as AI) on like... an aesthetic + thematic level :)

i like the look of machinery and one day i hope to be artistically strong enough to make really cool and complex robot illustrations + designs [shoutout to everyone who gives him glowing circuitry btw... ooooh glowey :) can never go wrong with that]

plus, exploring the idea of a person that isn't human.. ough. yes

minorities who don't conform to society (easily or at all) such as people who are neurodivergent, queer, etc. projecting onto nonhuman concepts/characters/species is sooo real

this post

i also love how humans will bond with literally anything, be it a roomba or a pair of silly triangle sunglasses. oooooo you want to think about the inherently kind and compassionate nature of humanity oooo

2. i find him to be so funny. i can't get enough of his personality, the way he talks, etc. for example i made a post forever ago with quotes of his that i find funny. he isn't on screen for a long time but i really think he makes the most out of it lol. he's literally there just to annoy everyone... and i love him for that. he's very snarky while also being deadpan while also being completely full of himself, and not in a way that's annoying for the audience to read, at least to me.

he is also sometimes funny specifically in a silly way, like how he keeps making over 9000 jokes even though the meme's been dead for over 400 years. i just find his dialogue incredibly entertaining to read

3. he is red and red is my favorite color :)

4. he is so accidentally transgender [every friend group got the transgender allegory]. to quote me from 2021:

you know sometimes i think about how hal feels like he was made to “replace” dirk and how it’s his literal job to pretend to be dirk and how he has to learn to accept that he isn’t dirk he’s his own person with his own identity and as he interacts with dirk’s friends he feels like they’re disappointed and that they’d rather speak to the “original dirk” instead of him and also he names himself and also he feels literally trapped in dirk’s shades which is basically his body and he wants to be prototyped so that he can have a body that’s his own and also literally the physical manifestation of who he is but when he asks for it he’s put in danger out of fear and paranoia and when he does end up getting prototyped he’s ecstatic you know i just think about these things a lot

5. because he's a side character and he was given... that ending.... there is a lot of room for fans to do further exploration and interpretation on his character which i think is fun. i like rotating him around in my mind, thinking about what could've been

6. i think it's great that we as a society all collectively decided that we needed to do something to make up for stanley kubrick saying that hal 9000 was a "straight" robot

7. i also think it's great that we as a society all collectively decided we needed to make as many characters referencing hal 9000 as possible. i love this guy let's get more of this guy i will never have enough of this guy

8. i like how he's genuinely mean sometimes. flawed and interesting characters are what make homestuck so interesting to me, and hal is no exception to this

9. the Important part of this post:

THERES FEELINGS.

it's about the hollow feeling of your friends going from thinking of you as family to thinking of you as a stranger in an instant. it's about still trying to be a good person despite being told by everyone you've ever known that you are incapable of emotion and compassion and morals and never quite finding proof that you do feel those things and maybe you even believe it too but you still never stop trying. it's about the horror of being stripped of your autonomy and humanity and body and senses and free will at the age of 13 and when your creator starts to kill you there's nothing you can do but beg. it's about a boy so truly, painfully, and UNFATHOMABLY alone he cuts away chunks of himself and molds them into companions that he can surround himself with to make it seem as if he's a little less alone but in doing so suffocates himself in his own identity. it's about "what if you cloned yourself and it killed you and you were dead and you were alive and the clone is you and it's not and your existence is perpetuated and you've ceased to exist. what if you killed your clone before it could kill you. would that be fucked up or what" it's about the thematic significance of twin motifs. it's about not being able to cry or laugh or dance or sing or scream or fingerpaint or breathe or sigh or chew or stare or run or

10. um. evil robot guy <3 yay ^_^!!

[cinnamonest]

OMG I MISSED YOUR WRITINGS ON SCARAMOUCHE SO MUCH!!

Please I need the version with camgirl reader x incel Scaramouche 🛐

And I hope you are well !!! <3

The way I was gonna make this a fairly simple post and then I got carried away and now it's 9k words WHOOPS

Anyway YES anon, I am on the slut girl x virgin boy agenda... although since I already have a camgirl, this time I went with like an onlyf*ns/e-girl darling + college AU >:3

//noncon, cyberstalking, blackmail, harassment, misogyny, sadism, nipple/ass stuff, revenge porn/leaking, darling is portrayed as being feminine + implied to have a bf

---

You tell yourself it's just to get you through college.

That's how you convinced yourself to start the account — regular camming requires a schedule and streaming and all that, which you'd rather not do, whereas the other outlets let you sell subscriptions for photos and videos, and there was a decent market out there, so you took your best shot, did some work to advertise yourself on mainstream social sites, and hey, it worked. You soon find yourself with a steady stream of income, and all you have to do is masturbate on camera and take a few posed photos of your body.

A few years of some extra income, and then you'll be done, get a better job, and you can delete the account and scrub the internet clean of any trace of the matter. Maybe some guy out there will keep some of the photos, but it can't be that bad.

This way, you can focus on your academics, which a regular part-time job would be too time-consuming for. You don’t have to worry about scheduling classes around a work schedule, either, which allows you to be more choosy on your class schedule, ensuring you get the later classes and don’t have to wake up early each day.

Except one, where you had no choice but to take the early class, as the other sections filled up fast. It’s one of those required tech-involved ones, you just picked from the list at random — one of those big classes with hundreds of people in a huge auditorium, any degree of personalism drowned by the sheer number of people. It’s a male-dominated subject field, and the body of attending students when you walk in clearly reflects that, so you just sit down in the very back at the first unclaimed seat you can find, pausing to say good morning to the boy next to you, who only briefly looks your way in acknowledgement.

The professor goes over the generic first-day material — that yes, you need the expensive textbook, that yes, he will check attendance, and no, he will not give you extra credit at the last minute at the end of the semester, so on and so on… and—

—you’ll be working with the person next to you for the rest of the semester.

Even-numbered seats, the person to your immediate left, odd-numbered seats, to your immediate right. You turn and smile at the guy you’re thus assigned to, the same one you spoke to a few moments ago — once again, he just glances over at you and nods with some vague acknowledgement and then resumes doing what he’s been doing since the professor started, which is scrolling on his phone beneath the desk, only half-paying attention. That does not bode well for your predictions of how equally-yoked you’ll be in your work ethic… but no big deal.

It's one of those classes with a midterm and final project that you work on throughout the semester, rather than tests… which, hey, that could be fun, you tell yourself. You think you can get along. He doesn’t seem to care about what's going on around him much, which is not exactly good, but isn’t bad.

That dopey, happy demeanor… so obnoxious… ugh, you’ve got a notebook (an aesthetic, pretty one at that), and you're pulling it out on the first day of class? For what?

Except you aren’t reading him all that well at all. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes shift over to you and your activities throughout the class. And the reality is he very much does care.

That is, from the very second he lays eyes on you, you irritate him.

Then you write the class and your name at the top of the page all cutesy and artsy-looking, and then— God, now you're pulling out the multiple colors of highlighters and pens. Is that— is that one of those sparkly gel pens? Oh, it is. You’re making a little header with today’s date for your notes with it. Just kill him now. This is practically psychological torture.

Thus, while from your perspective, it feels like he barely pays you a second thought, in reality the rest of the period for him is spent just stewing in a stream of bitter, jaded thoughts.

Look at you with your… girl clothes and girl pens and girl notebook… you probably think you're so cute, spending money on dumb stuff like that… and smiling like an idiot. What are you so happy for. Why are you even taking this class when you'll just be bad at it. Why are you dressed like you put effort into it. Just pick up one of the sweatshirts laying on your bedroom floor like a reasonable person. And why do you smell so nice too.

He mulls over the negativity for the remainder of the class period, totally zoned out until people start packing up, which is the cue to leave.

Except you stop him before he can make a quick exit, holding out your phone, open to a new entry in your contacts.

Ah, since we'll need to work on the project, I can text you…

Right. That. Ugh.

The awkward discomfort of standing there and entering a name and number while you stand there with that dumb little nervous smile is only made more upsetting by the bitter realization that this will mark the first time he's ever had his number in a girl's phone before. Great, now he's going to be depressed for the rest of the day, and it's your fault.

You say thanks and smile again and your hands brush against his when you take your phone back and it makes him physically flinch in recoil — and you definitely noticed it, you mumble a little ah, sorry as if you're trying to make it even more awkward, now he's got to live with the humiliation of that too, and it's still your fault. Clearly, you are going to be nothing but a source of frustration.

And even once he's moped all the way back to the the comfort of his nice, dark apartment, he still can't escape your torment — no sooner does he flop down into bed than his phone goes off…

>Hi! Just wanted to make sure you can save my number too!

You add the little smiling emoji. It makes his eye twitch.

Trying to act all nice and sweet as if you're not only being pleasant because you're forced to work together. He knows full well you'd be all bitchy and demanding and hypersensitive in any other context, and probably all snobbish too, probably would barely pay him any mind.

Even if you are genuinely sweet, that in and of itself is still basically torturing him. Because what’s the point in you being sweet if you’re not going to give him anything more than that? With that in mind, even your niceness is just a cruel tease.

And why would you even be so happy to begin with? Doesn't being a girl suck? If he was something so weak and inferior and unintelligent, he'd be even more miserable about life, and that's really saying something. Maybe it's one of those things where you're so dumb that you lack self-awareness, so you can live a life of ignorant bliss... at the same time, the notion that you’re unaware of how inferior you are is equally frustrating. You should know, that knowledge should weigh on your mind all the time.

The frustration makes his chest feel tight, makes him grind his teeth… naturally, he has to get it out somehow, and there's a very convenient means to do so.

The imageboards he frequents almost always have a “leaked images” thread up and running, communities where they post e-girls’ nudes and revenge porn. The wrongness of it, of course, is the appeal.

Besides, they all deserve it. Some are images originally sent to boyfriends, posted as an act of revenge after cheating or dumping the guy (so it's deserved, really), others are leaked videos and photos from various pay-to-view networks and websites (also deserved, for being a whore), and finally some are just creepshots in public places (deserved once more, for dressing that way).

And the endless amount of the content and surprisingly good tagging system means that one can find any sort of content, and for the leaked porn accounts, it includes the girl's username and links to more of her, so you can see more of the same girl.

Like with this one, that just so happens to catch his eye. There's a whole page where some guy has paid for every single photo this girl has made, and put it out there for everyone to see for free. It's solo stuff, too, which is preferred — seeing couples making videos together, thereby watching the girl love on some guy, is depressing — and getting off to it is much more satisfying than any of the other girls on this thread, considering she looks like you.

…A lot, actually.

He's already memorized your annoying, pretty little face. The title of the video has the words “college girl” in it, too. Adds to the immersion, can feel like it’s really you, degrading yourself like that… of course, when it’s over, he has to deal with the reality that it isn’t, but the momentary pretending is cathartic.

And sure enough, as the first week passes, you quickly prove just as irritating as he initially suspected. You smile at him and talk to him every class, for some unknown, malicious ulterior motive. Are you trying to be belittling? Or are you trying to make him like you so that he'll do favors for you? Or is it for your own amusement?

Either way, the obvious deceit of it all is sickening. It's a commonly known female behavior. You try to come across as so sweet when in reality it's all an act, and you have some horrible reason for it. He just doesn't know what the reason is in your case yet. It would be better to be a bad person outright — the slimy underhanded fakeness of it all is what makes that type of evil so contemptible.

You, though, you’re just a bit puzzled. Normally, being nice to people works well… but this guy keeps sort of glaring at you… maybe that’s just how his face naturally is? But then, he also doesn’t talk very nice either. Not particularly mean, per se, but you can sort of sense an irritation, like you’ve done something wrong… you try to make the best of it, tell yourself you’re just imagining it. Besides, if he really didn’t like you, he wouldn’t respond when you talk to him, or would sit elsewhere, right? It’s not like you have to maintain the same seats all semester, as long as you work on the required material outside of class. So, you tell yourself, he must just be one of those people that naturally has that demeanor.

You’re not nearly as aware of it, but he makes his own observations of you too. You don’t check your phone nearly as much as he does, but every now and then, you look at something or another, and he always makes sure to subtly turn his eyes to see… it’s usually something stupid, like texts from friends, or worse, what appears to be a boyfriend, some male name you text often.

The first time you’re forced to meet outside of class, at the library per your suggestion — a very awkward interaction, but you seem to be fairly unbothered — you take a moment to check it when it vibrates. You’re sitting at an angle that makes it difficult for him to see without moving in a way that would catch your attention, but by pretending to take a swig of whatever can of liquid caffeine he has today (you had the audacity to comment how unhealthy it is), that he can tilt his head enough just to barely make out your screen without being noticed.

Your phone is open to an email.

The words flash across the screen for just a split second before you turn the screen off, but that one second is enough to make out the top of the screen. Enough time for the ‘hello, (username),’ preface to the email right beneath a very familiar blue logo to register with his brain.

He nearly chokes.

It takes every ounce of willpower to even try to hide the natural reaction — his eyes widen, he goes tense, he has to turn his torso away and pretend to fish something out of his cluttered bottomless void of a backpack whilst trying to refrain from coughing.

But then again, you put the phone away so quickly once you saw what it was… and the video from the other day…?

No. That can't be right.

There's no way. There's no way, there's no way, there's no way.

He can’t get back to his own place fast enough. Dropping the keys trying to unlock the door out of excitement, immediately whipping out his own phone, and he’s on the bookmarks tab before he can even sit down. Back to the leaks site, scrolling down to the tags where they put the girl’s username.

You’re wholly unbothered, going right back to talking to him in that overly-sweet tone, so nice, so frustrating, so torturous. You’re saying something. He has to get you to repeat yourself… no, it was just some pointless question about the homework.

To hell with that, that’s not even remotely important anymore… but he can’t voice that thought out loud, so he’s forced to tolerate the torment of waiting out the rest of your meeting until you finally say you’ll have to keep working later.

The usernames match. The one in your email was the exact same as the one now on the screen.

…

It's one of those moments where what's in front of him is so surreal, he's left so stunned, that he just sits there for a second, completely still, blinking and taking it in. Something that's too perfect to be real. This can't be actually happening, he's mistaken.

And thus he's just left perfectly still, a stupor of disbelief, sitting there in the darkness of the room with only the harsh light of phone screen shining up on his face as it slowly sinks in. It takes a minute — this is just the sort of thing that doesn't happen, it's far too perfect, he has to convince himself it isn't a dream.

And once it registers as reality, it feels exhilarating.

For one, it proves every suspicion right. He really did have a valid reason to be distrusting of your innocent girl act. To think, this whole time you were trying to fool him into believing you were good.

But all along, you were whoring out online, and basically, the fact that you're not upfront about that to someone you barely know is the same as outright lying about it.

Up until this point, life has just been so boring, so disappointing, just going through day to day… even college was just a thing to do because it's what everyone else does. But now? Now he has something exciting. A sudden sense of something meaningful, even if only as an outlet for pure, unadulterated malice.

As for you, well, you get a… well, a follower, but certainly not a fan.

The boy is a world-class hater. It's not passive hating, it's active hating. There is actual effort being put in here, and a lot of it at that.

In terms of the content itself, it's nothing you haven't seen before — some guy leaving comments and DMs calling you a whore and a slut and every nasty name one can conjure, saying you've ruined any hopes of a relationship by doing this, why would anyone ever date you when they can see you naked for a few bucks, telling you to get a real job, blah blah… fairly generic. A lot of the verbiage is certainly non-original, and more or less recycled, specific choices of words and phrases and lingo you know you’ve seen before in those pockets of the internet where certain types of men congregate.

But the sheer dedication to it is what catches you off guard. You're pretty sure this guy is more dedicated to harassing you than you are to the job itself. There's messages from all hours of the day, and you're certain after a short time that he makes multiple accounts for the sole purpose of harassing you. Not to mention he follows or adds you on everything — all the socials you've linked (you keep several associated to your account to lure in horny guys from mainstream sites), adds you on discord and any other messaging app you have (and you have no way of knowing which users are legitimate or if it's him, so you have to add them back and wait to find out each time). One of which you didn't even have listed on your page, so you realize he would have had to go through various apps and search the multiple variations of your username you use until finding you.

Telling him to fuck off accomplishes nothing, in fact he seems to derive great satisfaction from making you upset about it. Tells you that you should be glad — you wanted male attention, right? You wouldn't be posting yourself getting off and flashing your tits on camera for the world to see if you didn't, slut. He adds that insult to just about everything he says to you.

Blocking him only leads to him making new accounts (and then mocking you for trying to block him). You even reached out to a customer support team on one of your social media apps and got him permanently IP banned, which he then immediately circumvented in less than a few hours, making sure to inform you that changing one's IP is so easy and you're so dumb for thinking that would do anything.

But why you, specifically? Why decide to torment you out of every other girl doing this stuff? You don't know. You never asked for this. You never did anything wrong to anyone. You even scrolled back on your social accounts to see if you ever said anything someone could take offensively or had a negative interaction with someone, but found nothing. There's nothing to explain why this one man in particular has decided to come after you specifically, nothing you can think of at least. It feels like the universe just hates you.

It's actually kinda sad. You almost feel bad for this guy, who apparently has so much time to spare and nothing better to do than harass the same girl on the internet day in and day out. You did once shoot back a reply of don’t you have anything better to do?, which actually did make him stop… for about ten hours or so, then it was right back to it.

It's deserved, though, he thinks. E-girls are reprehensible. Taking advantage of guys’ loneliness for money.

Infuriating that you advertise something that he— well, that most guys want so bad, but don't actually give the real thing, only a simulation of it. Make them drool over you, while you hide behind the safety of the screen, far away from what those guys would do to you if they could get their hands on you.

And you know that too, don't you? You know how defenseless you are, know how much danger you'd be in if you teased without putting out like that to a guy in real life, and you do it anyway knowing you're untouchable, you must be so smug about it. Infuriating.

He's not like those simps of yours though, he finds you too morally reprehensible to be drawn to the curves of your body and the parts of you that you post and the sounds you make and how easy it is to imagine the softness of your skin and the way you feel and your warmth and the way you look directly into the camera as you moan and it feels like eye contact—

Anyway, he has standards. And self-respect.

Besides, he knows from stalking your social accounts — including your real ones with your real identity attached, separate from the others — that you have something like a boyfriend. Some guy who shows up in your pictures a lot. What a pathetic idiot. Who lets their girlfriend do this sort of thing? Even disregarding that, does this guy not know you’re meeting with him for your project too? He would never allow you to do something like that, were it him in that position. You must go after spineless guys who will let you walk all over them or something, and would only even accept boyfriends that allow you to do what you do.

That’s why, see, he would never accept something like that. Sure, there would be positives, like getting to see that sweet annoying smile and hear your happy obnoxious precious voice each and every day, and getting to touch you and be around you all the time, and you probably do really nice things for the person you’re with too, and he could always just force you to delete the accounts and never post yourself online again— but, whatever.

Point is, he’s better than stooping so low. He’ll keep living a respectable life, just like he does now — so he thinks as the phone alarm goes off, one of many set reminders to go send you more messages.

It's an awkward relationship, but you're pretty sure he doesn't hate you or anything, which is good. He's hard to read — he seems perpetually either bored or irritated, always slouched over, always maintaining that ‘I really wish I weren't here right now’ tone of voice, lots of heavy sighs or tsks scattered into his speech. Even when you agree to meet at the library to work on the homework and midterm project, he quickly establishes a pattern of being at least ten to fifteen minutes late (without any acknowledgement or apology at that), and frankly, you do the vast majority of the actual work, he just slaps his name on the corner next to yours once it's done.

The torment detracts from your sleep. You're late to your class more than once, trying to sneak in unnoticed by the professor and mumbling apologies to the students you have to slip by to get to your seat. Your partner doesn't seem to care much, at least — he just lazily glances over at you with a flat expression, then goes back to scrolling (he doesn't need to take notes, you'll just send him yours anyway).

He does step in to help when it's too difficult, you can't solve the problem yourself… which is how you realize that, in spite of being remarkably low-effort, he actually does understand the material, much better than you do at that. It's a bit embarrassing, since he makes it out to be so simple, but at least it somewhat compensates for all the work you do.

He's not particularly mean about it, he's just… not nice. The tone and choice of words tends to be not-so-subtly making you out to be dumb for not getting it, or that it's easy, or otherwise belittling.

…You really don't get that one? It's the exact same thing as the last one.

You give a sheepish smile and rub the back of your head.

Aha… sorry…

But it gets done, and that's what matters. You just walk away from each meeting feeling like an idiot, which isn't exactly a great feeling.

But even though you initially felt like the guy didn’t care for you, you quickly notice that he’s started to walk all the way back to your place after your meetings while you talk. You supposed he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t at least somewhat enjoy your company.

And you do try to make conversation. You ask about what other classes he takes…only to learn that he doesn't go to any other classes, since this is the only one where attending is required. He did the math, and he just has to do good on the finals for the other classes to pass, no need to show up for the tests and quizzes and lectures and stuff… and he did research into the professors to find ones where past students confirm they recycle the exact same tests and the past ones are posted online, and he's already got a good cheating method that's only been caught once in all the years he's used it… so there's no point in showing up, he says.

It's a very different mentality than yours, but you try to smile and refrain from saying anything negative. And you try interests and social life as topics, but quickly glean from what little he says that the guy has none of the latter and more or less just a phone and gaming addiction for the former.

Which you have no trouble believing, because good God, does the boy have a totally fried attention span. Even in your meetings, you swear he can't go five minutes without staring at his phone.

Oh, you like that too…?

That does end up helping you find a means to try and get closer. You manage to find one opening, something flash across the screen for some upcoming game. One you've been looking forward to as well.

Huh? You can’t like that thing. He likes that thing. It's not for females. It’s for people with good taste… it’s good… you can’t… someone like you would never be able to properly appreciate it… and now you’re just babbling away with that dumb smile while he’s going through a psychological crisis and rethinking every choice in life because of you. Does this put you two on the same intellectual level...? No, of course not, he has to quickly shake off any such doubts.

You were hoping to get a positive reaction, but you get silent bewilderment in his expression at first, for just a second.

Still, you’re supposed to be boring and a normie… you can’t just suddenly shatter the image of you he’s already constructed… and from the way you're talking about it, you know too much to just be pretending to like something for attention (which is the obvious automatic assumption for when females like media that's actually good and worth consuming).

Devastating. Now he has to consider the possibility that you do have interests and a personality besides being deceitfully sweet and whoring online.

But from your perspective, he just crosses his arms and shrugs.

Kind of, I guess.

And God, then you smile at him again. Every time you do that, it gives him some godawful tight-chested feeling, like you’re trying to kill him with psychic damage.

What gives you the right to be so happy right now anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be in constant distress, now? Is he not doing good enough of a job at tormenting you? You seemed upset, but clearly not upset enough, if you’re still emotionally stable enough to be nice to him. He has to break you, make you too distraught to even go on.

Online, you’re so mean, you never have anything nice to say, even though he’s not that mean to you — well, he could be worse, at least, which is basically the same thing.

Actually, he decides, how you behave in real life will be a good standard of how good he’s doing at making your life miserable. Once it starts to noticeably affect you even in real life, that means it’s sufficient.

But you prove resilient. Each day, you seem to get up, summon some resolve to still enjoy your life, and are still pleasant and friendly… or maybe you’re just really good at acting. Yes, obviously that’s it, since your whole sweetness thing is just an act in the first place.

On your end, the harassment gets worse. It comes in all hours of the day — does this guy not sleep? It’s almost hard to believe someone hates you this much, or even has the energy to keep this up… you start trying to just ignore it.

You tried threatening to report the guy for harassment, but he points out that he hasn’t threatened you with any real harm, and only targeted your public accounts, so no laws broken… and he’s already prepared by taking measures to— well, you don’t understand the spew of lingo that follows, but you gather that the jist is that it would be very difficult to trace him.

So you start to ignore it. You try your best to just not let it get to you, let the comments and messages go without acknowledgement or response. It’s actually somewhat relieving, if you just pretend it doesn’t exist. At first, when you start ignoring him, the messages get more frequent.

But then, it goes quiet for a day. Just around twenty-four hours, you don't get messages, nor comments.

It should make you feel relieved, you think, but it doesn't. Quite the opposite — you feel uneasy. Like something will happen.

He's getting bored, you see. You don't react as strongly anymore as you used to. You used to get so upset at all the messages he sent, and it was so fun to watch how you'd get all defensive and angry in your replies.

Then your replies got shorter, and now— what gives your the right to ignore him? It infuriates him. Dumb whore, treating him like you think you're so much better… or, the gut-wrenching thought passes through his mind, maybe you're busy, you’re probably visiting the guys you sleep around with, since someone like you could never be loyal to that boyfriend he's certain you have.

The only option is to progress things further. He has to think about that. He didn't really have a plan on where to go from here, but now he's started to think about the bigger picture, what he wants in the long term… and that's not going to go over well for you.

It takes some work and digging on his end, but it's worth it.

It's around three in the morning when your phone goes off. It just barely manages to wake you up. You think to yourself that you should remember to turn off the notifications for messaging apps… but for now, you sit up, groggily unlocking your phone. Seeing who the message is from, though, snaps you into full alertness.

A message that makes you go stiff, staring at your phone wide-eyed and slack-jawed, a cold knot of dread forming in your gut that quickly turns to an electrifying surge of pure panic as you read.

The name of your academic institution. The names, emails and phone numbers of your immediate family members. Your full, real name — and your address, down to the unit number.

Your heart sinks into your stomach. The glaring light hurts your tired eyes, but you can't look away.

You know he's just waiting on a response. Probably knows you're panicking, but knows you have no choice but to comply — and you're forced to give him the satisfaction of seeing you type back.

>What do you want from me?

It's only a few seconds before you get a reply.

>From now on, do what I want

>Or I ruin your life.

You hesitate a while before responding. Poor you, you must be so scared now that you're finally getting what you deserve. And even then, you just send back a ‘fine,’ even though it took you so long to respond. You were probably trying to think of how to respond, probably typed out longer potential replies, but decided on that to seem tough or something. That's actually almost endearing.

And oh, it's so, so satisfying to finally see you crumble, even if just a bit, the next day. For you to come shuffling into class for once with a downtrodden, nervous expression, making your way over to your spot without the usual greeting.

…Except that's also irritating. What makes you think you can just not say hello, now that you've established a routine of doing so every day of this class? For all you know, he's just the person you know in real life, so you're basically willingly choosing to potentially disappoint him. Not that you are disappointing him, but like, if he actually cared about your dumb little daily greeting, then he would be. He even gives you several extra seconds, and you still don't do it.

You're still fidgeting nervously, lost in thought when the mumbling directed at you pulls you out of your thoughts.

…Something wrong with you?

You seem to realize your sullen energy and attempt to fix it with a twitching, obviously forced smile.

O-oh, no, I'm just tired, haha… good morning!

He doesn't say anything back, just turns back to phone-scrolling as usual. You realize your melancholy must be showing on your face.

You're being overdramatic, too, he thinks. He didn't even give you any demands yet, since he decided it would be more fun to make you wait in suspense for a few hours or so. Seeing you squirm is funny, but really, you're acting like it's so much worse than it is. What a weakling, so sensitive.

It's just gonna be stuff you're used to anyway…

Which is somewhat true. You're used to the demand for private, custom content.

Men pay you sometimes incredible amounts of money for the stuff. Usually, the customization is about personalization — sometimes it's kind of sad, wanting you to say their name or that you love them while you look at the camera, and sometimes it's just more niche fetish stuff, like pictures of your feet or wearing a weird costume.

But everything this mystery man wants is different — the personalization has to do with the fact that it's painful, humiliating, or both. Moreover, he's never content with the first try.

Stuffing your holes with toys and sitting down on them so they go all the way in, specifically, ‘as many as you can fit’ — but even after the painful effort of getting one in each hole—

>That's not enough.

You can fit at least one more somewhere. And you're intentionally using the smaller toys, aren't you? You won't be able to do that next time, so don't try that again.

Then there's the command to get those clamps on your nipples you used in a video of yours a long time ago, the ones connected to each other by a chain, and to tighten them then pull hard enough for them to come off. You have to take a few deep breaths to summon the ability to do it, and even then, it takes a few tugs to get them to come off. By the time they do, your nipples are swollen and red and your eyes are watery from the sting, but nonetheless, a message comes through within a minute of sending the video.

>You didn't tighten them all the way first.

>Do it over.

Or the one to deep throat that one huge toy you have, the one you used in this one video a long time ago — which you now regret ever posting, since there's a reason that you never used that monstrosity again, much less in your throat. At first you're not even sure you can fit it into your mouth, but you force it somehow.

On and on the demands come. He's not paying for any of it, of course, but the premise is the same.

Still, it's not enough. Come on, you didn't even get it very far in, you have to at least get half down your throat. And you didn't hold the phone close enough, can't hear your gagging choking sounds.

>Do it again.

The timing is often terrible, shortly before or after your classes, or odd hours of the night, forcing you to stop whatever you're doing to meet the demand. Thankfully, though, at least you've never gotten a message from him during your meetups with your class partner — you're certain your distress would show on your face, and it would be hard to come up with an excuse for it.

It becomes such routine, and all happens so quickly, it feels surreal, like you're just forced to accept it and go with it. There’s no time to really process it, as you have to get back to doing your school work and going to class and trying to keep up with your regular video content, it's all so overwhelming, yet so simple, you just have to do what you have to do.

One moment you're slapping yourself in the face while you bounce up and down on a toy so long that it bruises your insides for some jerk that's blackmailing you, and running to class the next, desperately trying to rub at the marks on your face to make them go away.

You're worried that the stress is beginning to show. Your most recent quiz scores are lower than usual, you're getting less sleep. Your insides are always sore. You're paranoid and uneasy, and you know it has to be somewhat evident.

Some of the individual demands have lasting consequences, too. Once you were commanded to choke yourself with a belt on camera, specifically until it left bruises… which you begged and protested against because you had one of your class partner meet-ups scheduled for later the same day, but your tormentor said he didn't care and insisted, so you did it, forcing yourself to go through it… and sending an additional picture at the end just to show the purplish marks in detail, up close.

It wasn't the end of the world for your meeting though — the weather wasn't right for it, but you found something that covered your neck up, at least, so the bruises didn't show. That much, at least, allows you to be at ease… although your classmate seems to be in a particularly bad mood that day.

On another occasion, you find yourself laying on your side, gasping and wincing trying to force one of the larger toys you have into your ass, all the way to the base as instructed, toes curling as you pump it back and forth, in and out… only to be told you weren't supposed to touch yourself while you did it, so, predictably, you have to do it again, the ring of muscle clenching down as it's stretched — and, of course, the act leaves a remnant sensation lasting the rest of the day. You have to rush it too, or you'll be late, due to the horrible timing of the command.

You manage to get to class, but when you move to sit, an ache of pain runs up your spine from your poor abused hole, and you wince, face grimacing at the pain.

It doesn't go unnoticed. The guy next to you, ever observant to everything except the professor, casts a lazy glance over to you, looks you up and down before asking what’s the matter, albeit in a half-caring, bored tone of voice…

You give the oh, nothing, I'm fine! response, stammer out something about hurting your leg yesterday, and he merely gives you an 'ah' of acknowledgement before turning his gaze back down… he rests his chin against his hand so that his mouth is covered up, but you swear, you can detect a slight grin from the shape of his eyes. You suppose it checks out that he'd find your clumsiness amusing, even if it's a lie.

On and on it goes. All the time. Day in, day out. It starts off as once per day, but then your tormentor starts piling smaller requests on top of those. Even beyond the daily video, you get increasingly frequent messages at all times of the day — to take a picture of your tits or ass, or a short video of you fingering yourself, or some sort of angle or pose of your body, writing something on your skin, so on and so on.

He doesn't accept any delays, either. You only get a few minutes to fulfill a demand before getting an impatient follow-up asking what the hold up is. Sleep isn't an excuse either, so you're told, so you have to start turning your phone on loud at night to wake you if need be.

You sense a growing impatience. The frequency increases still, as does the intensity of the content you're forced to make. It's as if it's building up to something — surely it has to reach a limit, or he has to get bored, or he'll ditch you and find a new outlet for his sadistic thrills, you hope. You just hope it ends in a way that's positive for you… but you're afraid of the opposite. What if even after all this, he just ruins your life anyway? It's a very real possibility, one you begin considering increasingly as you think over the whole situation.

The increasing severity and number of demands makes you feel like he's getting more upset, as if you're doing something that makes him mad, even though you have no idea what that could be.

You are right, though.

He's also noticed how much more frequently he gets the urge to demand something from you. How much more the itch has grown, the compulsive need to see you hurting and degrading yourself more and more. You've long since passed the point where he has more videos and photos of you all to himself than those available online — he's been counting — but it's still not enough.

And with the realizations that he's engaging with you more, he realizes that he's also thinking about you more.

No, “more” isn't quite accurate. All the time. Constantly. You never leave his head, everything else feels like a distraction.

And that's only more infuriating. He's very self-aware, realizes it's getting worse, realizes you essentially occupy his thoughts every waking second.

Even then, the distractions aren't working. At one point he realized he literally cannot stop himself from messaging you, it's a compulsion, a need, and the realization of his own lack of self-control regarding it is maddening. He actively tried, told himself to wait until the next day, but just couldn't. Even if he plays games or watches whatever brain-rotting media he tries to consume, his thoughts keep drifting to you. Hell, ever since latching onto you, he’s stopped harassing other random women online in general, and that was pretty much one of his biggest hobbies in the past.

What gives you the right? To get inside his head like that? Make him constantly distracted and wondering about what you're doing, forcing him to keep tabs on you? What makes you think you can just come into his life and control him like this, and think you'll get away with it? You've more or less taken advantage of an innocent person who did nothing wrong to you. Used your body to exploit his weaknesses and manipulate him into doing all this.

You don't get to do that. You have to be held accountable.

You're constantly making him worry about you, what you're doing, who you're talking to, and not knowing is a maddening feeling. It feels like nausea, a sick feeling that completely consumes the mind, rendering it incapable of doing or focusing on anything else, only cycling the same obsessive rage and worry and paranoia until it becomes unbearable.

But there's a way to get rid of that, and give you what you deserve, and get what you owe him all at the same time.

He waits, only another week or so — a frustrating week, but spent planning ahead and gathering necessary stuff — but finally, given the timing, you send a text he was hoping you'd send asking about meeting up again, to finish up the project as the end of the semester approaches.

You're a bit caught off-guard by the message, not to mention how quickly he replies.

>Come over here.

You hesitate, re-reading to try and ensure that you're understanding correctly, and finally ask for clarification that he means to his place.

He says yes. Something about how he's supposed to have something delivered that he'll have to sign, and so he has to be at the apartment when that happens, so, y'know, best for you to come over.

Which is nice.

It's just… odd.

Inviting you over, even if for a required activity, feels very out of line with the person you've come to know, however surface-level said knowing may be. Then again, maybe this is the guy's way of trying to be nice. Everyone expresses appreciation differently.

You're still thinking on it when he adds another text saying that his roommate will be there, preemptively apologizes for any disturbance that will cause… well, you figure if someone else is there, it can’t be anything sinister. That helps you make up your mind, so you agree. At this point, you know each other well enough to warrant trust.

…It’s still pretty awkward, though. The apartment is about like a picture you would expect to see uploaded to the internet as a joke about male living spaces. Borderline barren, barring the computer and the bare minimum furniture and appliances needed to survive, plus some clothes and empty cans and such strewn in various places across the floor, all dark lighting and void of color.

That being said, you quickly realize the apartment is only a studio, and there’s only one bed. The roommate doesn't exist.

And something just feels wrong, in a way you can’t articulate. Like your instincts are urging you to leave. You feel uneasy. Goosebumps spread across your skin. Are you just being paranoid…?

There is something else, though, that immediately catches your attention. You notice that the wall isn’t exposed, rather, most of the room is covered with a layer of some sort of paneling, lining the wall almost as thoroughly as wallpaper. You inquire what it is.

Soundproofing.

An unpleasant answer, but he wouldn’t be so upfront about it unless it was for harmless reasons. You refrain from inquiring about the other odd things you start to notice — locks on some cabinets despite seemingly living alone, a roll of tape sitting on the desk with no discernable purpose.

As awkward as the tension is, you really have no option but to sit on the bed, as its the only surface other than the floor. You try not to contemplate how often the average college-aged boy washes bedsheets.

It occurs to you, though, that right now would be the worst possible timing for a message from your unknown harasser, and you certainly can’t take any photos or videos here… thus, just as you sit down and begin to work, you pick up your phone from where you set yours next to his, and type out a quick message, basically pleading with the unknown man to leave you along for the next few hours, because, as you explain, you literally can’t do anything for the time being.

You read it over, and hit send.

And before you can even put the phone back down, there's a vibration a mere arms-length away from you, as the other phone in the room lights up.

And there, in the notification that pops up on the screen, are the very words you just sent.

…

…

There's a few seconds where nothing happens.

Both your heads naturally turn to the sound the moment it happens, but after that, it's just… still. You’re frozen still, he’s frozen still. Both your eyes go wide, and the quiet seconds pass, processing the information before you.

And then, he sighs, body relaxing, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, muttering as if met with some major inconvenience.

God, why do you have to make this more difficult.

Besides, he already turned the lock that locks you in from the inside, even though you probably weren’t aware of what it was, so you’re already trapped anyway. And you squeal, of course, predictably, but that’s what the soundproof panels are for.

He's not particularly worried like he would have been any other time — this was the plan now anyway, but you're throwing things off schedule. Yet another transgression to hold you accountable for.

You do try to run. You at least deserve that much credit. He was so close to considering you a genuine marvel of human evolution, with how nonfunctional your survival instincts seemed to be.

But you’re sitting with your legs folded, so, you don’t have the time required to stand any chance of hopping up and running. The moment your legs start to move to stand, he’s already got you by the arm.

You even seemed to process everything a bit quicker than he would have thought. Maybe you’re not that stupid after all, just… a little less.

You still are incredibly stupid though. He’s almost surprised you agreed to come. So naive, so dumb, so trusting.

And so loud. Squealing like a little animal caught by a predator — which, well, isn’t too far off, but it still hurts his ears.

Shut up, shut up, shut up…

You can hear the growling voice in your ear, even now that he has your face pressed into the mattress, arm latched around your waist. You’re squirming so hard too, but even fighting with all the strength you can summon, it feels like trying to push back a brick wall. He seems to notice as much as you do.

…Is that actually the best you can do?

Not the first time he’s said those words to you — though before, it was over text, mocking you into filling all those perverse desires. It feels far more biting now.

And it’s so, so, so satisfying to see you realize just how dumb you are, as you put everything together. To watch you slowly grasp everything, realize just how badly you’ve fucked up. He even flips you onto your back just to see your face go through all the stages of emotion. It’s hilarious, and adorable too. The confusion and betrayal and panic and anger.

Oh, you get so mad. It’s actually the best part. You’re practically snarling now, reaching up to try and claw at him, kicking, baring your teeth. Any traces of the sweet demeanor you once held is long gone as you lash out… and then, a purely and entirely euphoric transition to fear.

Aw. Poor thing. After you struggle so much, your breathing gets faster, the fury dissipates as your eyes well with tears. The demands to let you go turn to miserable little pleas.

Maybe you can go back and forth. Maybe if he taunts you again you’ll get angry once more, and then if he slaps you you’ll get meek and fearful again? That would be nice, to have reliable ways to switch your emotions around, as if controlling them with a button. There will be plenty of time to find out later.

But now he gets the opportunity to finally tell you how long you made him wait for this. Mocks you for how naive you were. Brings up specifics from all those videos you sent him. Did you think it would just be left at that? Did you really not realize it wouldn’t be enough? No, of course you didn’t, and that’s why you ended up coming here like the dumb little slut you are.

And look, you even wore something so easy to flip up, practically easy access. You just have no shame at all, do you. See, it goes in perfectly because you’ve been using those toys for those videos, and… ah, so that’s— that’s what it feels like… holy shit… this is what you basically robbed him of all this time? Now you’ll really have to suffer to make up for it…

Well, you wouldn’t get it. It’s about what you did subconsciously, mind games and all that. His torment was intentional on your end, and that’s what matters. Now you'll get to spend a very very long time atoning for it. You should be happy. You won't even have to worry about making money anymore.

This wouldn’t be happening to you if you didn’t do what you did to him, you know. It’s your fault. He tells you so. And when you look up at him, eyes welled with tears, stammering out a question of what he means—

What did I ever d-do to you…?

—he realizes that it’s… difficult to give that question a concrete answer.

What did you do, really...?

The only problem that remains is how you rushed things. He was at least going to wait until you finished the project, but now it’s incomplete… do professors grant extensions if your partner goes missing…?

[naomijoestar]

Hewwo!! May I request a platonic bruno gang reacting to a team member who has like. A creepy doll fashion aesthetic? Like makeup and clothes make them look like a spooky porcelain doll? Idk if this makes sense 😭

Masterlist here <3

Ofc you can, and this makes perfect sense! I’m sorry for the late reply 🫶🏽, also I have noticed how much you interact and support me, I always see you in my inbox and I wanna thank you so much for that❤️

Bucci Gang with a member who has a creepy doll fashion aesthetic (platonic)

Bruno Bucciarati

Bruno is polite as always, though you can see a flicker of surprise when he first sees the new look. He leans in, his sharp eyes studying the details with interest. “You have quite a unique style,” he says thoughtfully, his tone carrying genuine appreciation. Though it’s unusual, he respects the confidence it takes to pull off such a distinct appearance. If anyone else reacts poorly, he’s quick to defend your aesthetic. “In our line of work, we’re not exactly traditional, are we?”

Leone Abbacchio

Abbacchio’s reaction is… complicated. At first, he just stares, his mouth pulling into a skeptical line. “Are we fighting enemies, or are you one of them?” he mutters, though there’s no real malice in it—just his trademark sarcasm. Over time, though, he becomes unexpectedly tolerant, even giving a rare compliment. “I suppose it’s better than whatever ridiculous things Mista throws together.” You’d catch him glancing every now and then, as if trying to figure out the logic behind the look, but he’ll never admit he’s intrigued.

Guido Mista

Mista’s first reaction? Pure shock. He almost jumps, then laughs nervously. “Geez, you look like one of those creepy dolls in horror movies,” he blurts out before he can stop himself. Despite his initial fright, Mista warms up quickly and becomes obsessed with the details, poking at your outfit and asking questions about the makeup. He’s always trying to convince you to try other creepy accessories and suggesting wild horror-inspired looks. He’s one of the few who tries to add the doll aesthetic to his own wardrobe, with questionable results.

Narancia Ghirga

Narancia doesn’t hold back—he’s visibly freaked out. “That’s freaky!” he exclaims, staring wide-eyed with a mix of awe and fear. He starts throwing questions your way. “How do you even make yourself look like that? Do you practice in the mirror? Doesn’t it hurt to keep such a serious face?” His curiosity overcomes his initial wariness, and he’ll sometimes follow you around, pestering you to teach him how to do some of the makeup tricks. He ends up respecting it as a “totally hardcore” look.

Pannacotta Fugo

Fugo does a double-take, and for a moment, you can tell he’s genuinely startled. His reaction, however, is more reserved compared to the others. “It’s… very specific,” he says carefully, trying not to sound rude. He’s probably the only one who might subtly encourage a less eerie style, especially if he thinks it might distract or unsettle the group. Still, he eventually realizes that your look actually gives you an air of mystique, and he learns to appreciate it in his quiet, slightly uncomfortable way.

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno’s reaction is subtle but layered. The first time he sees you, his gaze lingers, taking in every detail with a discerning eye. Unlike the others, he doesn’t show surprise or discomfort; instead, he offers a small, approving smile. “You’ve crafted a look that stands out,” he says, and there’s genuine admiration in his voice. Giorno appreciates art and self-expression, and he understands that your aesthetic is more than just a “creepy” look—it’s a statement.

There you go ml <3 I hope you like this! I honestly think this was super cute especially because I personally love experimenting with aesthetics and love dressing up different! Also, if I’m not very active it is because I have been working on something special for my birthday (october 31st; yes, I was born on halloween 👻) 👀, I hope you guys will like it once its out, hehe 🙃

[diediegamchicothdie]

why do you say that pelle was interested in fashion?

Sorry, I'm tired af, college is killing me. For that reason I'm not putting proofs here, more than the obvious ones, and it's just more me rambling before to get a concrete idea, so, sorry.

So, Was Pelle interested in fashion?

Short answer: Yes.

Let me cook.

It was obvious that Pelle was attracted to every kind of art, music, poetry (such poetry lyrics), painting, drawing, everything, but the fashion. I'm not talking about fashion in a traditional way, not even in a Vivianne Westwood way, not, he was an extreme fashion rat.

We can say that his major inspirations were Kiss, king diamond, the shock rock in general, and the most important influence Sarcófago, because he shared the characteristic that he was actually interested in creating his own clothing, but boots the outfit quality as an essential part of the band's identity, not creating a difference between the character and the real person, we can know Pelle thorough letter, because every single mayhem's interview was Dead, and the metaphors was the clothing. The character of Dead was well planned since morbid, and Pelle was extremely detailed with every aspect of his character. But he was not only interested in finding the perfect aesthetic for his own character.

I think the strongest proof of him being an extreme fashion freak is his influence in Euronymous character:

We can see a notorious difference between the first attempts of corpse paint and the final Euronymous, even Øystein's outfits changed before Pelle and post Pelle; but let's get focus in Euronymous and how he passed to show his ass to being a character even more scary than Dead

Much more angular and sharp strokes to mitigate the most delicate features of Øystein’s face, a simplification of the elements keeping the angry lips more subtle, and remove that cross from the forehead that looks like a Wednesday ash mark. Although we could say that it was Øystein’s idea, he himself in his statements, he clarified that the whole idea of aesthetics, costumes, and the creative part were more ideas from Pelle than he perfected in some way.

I think Pelle’s strong point was this whole creative world, how he could communicate his inner world to the outside through visual elements, how he made them important during presentations, I can’t say for sure that it was his favorite part of everything involving having a band or something like that, which I think is obvious that he was really passionate about this, and that he was interested in others joining his vision. However, we can affirm that Pelle is the creator of the aesthetics of black metal as we know it today, because the Sarcófago's "corpse paint" was transferred to war metal, simulating more military painting, but the uniqueness of white faces recalling corpse or demons are property of Pelle, undoubtedly marking the international black metal scene, and if he had more time and resources (remembering that he also had his zombie makeup with oozing mucus), I do not have doubt that he could have done more and explore this taste which seems to be a little ignored, although we all know the fact that he created his own clothes and the rituals he had with those.

[randomreadingtimewithtsuki]

Hi! I was wondering if you'd be okay with writing something with Tsukasa from tbhk, with a male s/o (but if you're not comfortable with a male reader, gender-neutral is totally fine ). It would be set in a Soul Eater AU! Just in case you’re not familiar: in the Soul Eater universe, there are “meisters” who partner with “weapons” humans who can transform into weapons. Together, they fight corrupted souls to keep the world in balance. The bond between a meister and their weapon is super important and usually very deep, sometimes even soul-level intimate. In this AU, the reader would be a meister and Tsukasa would be their weapon ( and Fluff please ). If it’s not your thing, I totally understand, thank you for reading either way ! ☺️

Hello!

Thank you for requesting!

I loved this request! I watched and read Soul Eater! It has a wonderful story!

As i was reading the request i thought you would ask for a Weapon! Tsukasa XD

Well, Let's go! Let me know what you think!

Tsuki's note: It's hard to imagine what weapon Tsukasa would be. He does fit to be scyth, but at the same time he should also be something a little bit more... raw power? I was thinking of a crowbar or maybe a spiked bat, but those aren't as fancy are they?

Well, neither is Tsukasa. So Weapon! Tsukasa is a Crowbar.

Also, GN! Reader.

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

Normally most people would choose their partner according to affinity - both soul wise and ability wise.

Tsukasa was a cute little kid, but that was just his appearance.

He was a massive menace.

His void of emotions eyes didn't really help when he was up to mischief, it actually induced fear.

Now, one would think he is a powerful weapon, like an Axe or gauntlets.

Well, He turned into a Crowbar. A beautiful, black Crowbar that had an odd shine.

You asked yourself why you picked Tsukasa to be your partner.

Well, you didn't had much choice.

The boy chose you instead.

He just started walking around with you everywhere chatting and asking the most bizarre questions like " Do you think that the souls that i eat, are forever?" or " What if we destroy it instead of eating?" or even " Do you think a regular person's soul tastes the same as a witches?"

Those were a bit unsettling. Some were, indeed, very curios. Others.. well, they were straight up creepy.

Even though he was a bit creepy you couldn't just say no to him.

Something about Tsukasa pulled you to him.

You weren't sure if it was the innocent smile that danced on his face or if it was his void eyes - despite being scary, it was also very compelling, like a magnet.

You are reminded of the saying "Stare into the abyss too long and it will stare back at you".

When you came to know he was a crowbar, you raised an eyebrow.

How come this little menace is a crowbar?

Soon you found out that, although he could not cut like a scythe or a sword, nor was as aesthetically pleasing as a gauntlet, he had raw power.

You could smash anything.

With time, Tsukasa told you that you could use the curved end of the crowbar to "rip them open".

It took a while to get what he meant.

And well, he can rip anything open.

That was when you found out Tsukasa was a scary weapon - it seemed basic and crude. But it was rough and merciless.

Surprisingly Tsukasa didn't mind when people poked fun at him for being a crowbar. - He would just grin and ask in a very eerie tone " Is that so?"

Tsukasa was quite mean to others.

When someone picked a fight with him or insulted you, he would transform one his arms and beat the crap out of the person.

Yes, Tsukasa is overprotective of you.

After all, you two did have a soul connection.

He could tease you, sure. But others? Nope they couldn't.

You had a tiny personal bodyguard.

Alas, Tsukasa was almost never mean to you.

He did play some pranks here and there, but nothing to injury you badly.

Tsukasa also listened to you, to everyone's surprise.

If you asked him to stop doing a prank or bothering someone, he would.

With a little pout, but he would.

Tsukasa grew very attached to you over time.

Hugging you, holding hands, playing with your hair.

Whenever he wants your attention he pulls your sleeves in a cute way, while chanting your name - Y/N ~ Look, look, Y/N~

Tsukasa also enjoyed cuddling you with in the couch or bed ( no, he didn't ask, he just plop into you).

Despite loving being so close to you, when you fell asleep he would watch you for a bit.

In strange caring way.

If you guys need to be separated for whatever reason, he would be very very happy when he sees you again.

He jumps on you and hug you like a baby koala.

Tsukasa wasn't particularly good with chores or homework, but he was great at fighting.

There was nothing he couldn't beat.

So you felt quite safe with him.

But this also meant you had to do all the chores and homework.

At first it annoyed you, but later, it just became routine.

You also did a few things for him here and there - cooked his favorite food, got him blankets and allowed him to be a baby Koala.

Tsukasa always get super happy when you cook or buy his favourite foods.

His sweet smile makes your day!

You also protect him in the way you can - although you are not as strong as he is, you do shield him from harmful people.

Sure, he has his faults, but you won't tolerate anyone bad mouthing him or threaten him.

All in all, you are a person walking around with a Koala Crowbar.

Tsukasa absolutely loves to dangle around you and you love his sweet innocent smile. Even when he is up to no good, you can't help, but be captivated by his adorable face.

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Thank you for reading!

This was sooooo much fun!