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#'everyone's attractive BUT THAT'S JUST FACTS'
cool-island-songs · 3 days
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Analysis of ALNST Character Relationship Metrics
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My art book won't be here for a minute, but I ran some screenshots I saw on twt through an image translator and have a lot of thoughts:
TILL: Despite claiming to hate everyone in the world, Till ranks Ivan at 70% intimacy even as he identifies perturbing behaviors of Ivan's going back years and refers to him as "a bother". He also ranks Sua at 10% in spite of having little to say about her and finding it uncomfortable to be around her.
Though he postures at being misanthropic and has all the manners you'd expect of a boy who was half off at the human child pound, he's actually quite gentle and sensitive. This is reflected in one of the graduation messages he's left by a classmate as well:
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The person he feels closest to is an unattainable crush, and someone who doesn't feel that close with him in return, likely because he's too shy to really approach her or carry on a conversation.
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MIZI: That's Mizi, of course, who's rather childlike and naive initially. She likes everyone, but since Till chokes when he tries to speak to her and often keeps his distance, she wonders if he's avoiding her because he dislikes her.
Mizi gravitates towards people who she sees as "perfect", which is how she describes Ivan and Sua in her graduation message to Ivan:
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She doesn't see the darker side of Ivan's personality (which has been described on several occasions, even by himself, as "twisted") because he's attractive, successful, and helpful to her.
Though she likes everyone, Sua is her "God", and the only thing that can keep them apart is the tragedy of their situation, which forces Mizi to grow up in a brutally painful way.
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SUA: Sua is far less idealistic and naive than Mizi, and has clearly thought about sacrificing herself to save Mizi, since Ivan picks on her for thinking of doing so in an official comic. Accordingly, her feelings about Mizi are far more tinged by the knowledge that they will one day be torn apart by external circumstances. She laments that reciprocating her feelings will one day cause Mizi great pain.
She's always been more somber, and despite her surface similarities to Ivan (which he notes in a follow-up comic wherein he realizes he was wrong about Sua's feelings for Mizi being unrequited), she's quite different on the inside. Sua's more sensitive and thus her colder exterior serves to protect her, whereas Ivan's outward persona creates an illusion of normalcy that doesn't reflect his reality.
Sua views Ivan and Till as a threat and a nuisance, respectively. Like Till, she senses something strange about Ivan, and when it comes to Till, it's just one person too many around for her. This is fascinating to me, because I thought she might pity Till! Her feelings about Ivan were already pretty clear from this panel of the 'piggyback' comic, and she seems deeply hurt in the first comic linked by his prodding.
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IVAN: For his part, Ivan is fascinated by Till even though he's content to sit back and observe, pestering him to get a reaction or his attention for a brief time. He doesn't expect anything in return but wants more than anything to be on Till's mind (hence behaviors like stealing Till's belongings and returning them to him, pretending he had found them).
He prefers Sua to Mizi despite his awareness that Sua doesn't particularly like him, seeing her as a sister and even telling her she's "twisted" like he is. He likes Mizi well enough, especially her sincerity, but seems to find her optimism a bit much at times.
The fact that Mizi and the others would likely consider Ivan and Mizi quite close while Ivan does not reflects how much he postures even in his closest relationships. He struggles to connect with those he's most compelled by and it's not clear if he really wants to.
Some Ivantill thoughts before I go:
There seems to be a common sentiment that it's tragic Till was unable to see how much Ivan loved him, and I think we'll likely get more of Till's perspective on Ivan and their relationship in round 7. But it may not be the case that Ivan even wanted his true feelings to be seen, or would have known what to do if Till had reciprocated them.
There's something almost voyeuristic and self-negating in his feelings for Till (see: "I can’t reach you, so I imagine alone/You who shines, I stand next to you" from 'Black Sorrow'). He has far more self-awareness and willingness to accept things as they are than Till, who doesn't see that Mizi only has eyes for Sua and who would likely struggle to accept that reality.
Ivan, on the other hand, is well aware that his feelings for Till are "shallow", a bright fantasy to get him through his dark reality, and he seems to sincerely believe that his death won't scar Till because he's never really broken through to him. He's a schemer, and comments he makes in his graduation message to Till and the interview he gives in advance of round 6 suggest that he may have been planning to sacrifice himself for some time.
Part of me wonders if he hoped it would leave a mark on Till. Choking, kissing, and violently sacrificing oneself are all aggressive, forward acts, especially from someone who used to toy with people to get his kicks but was otherwise quite passive and unfeeling.
There are a lot of parallels in the one-sided loves, like Till acting out of his usual character for Mizi, and Ivan doing the same because of Till, putting all hopes of being saved in something just out of reach, staying in chains for that one special person. But Ivan's psychology is quite different from Till's, and in fact closest to Luka's re: low or no empathy. Both Ivan and Till are significantly traumatized by their upbringings but Ivan's difficult early life in the slums and his experience being dangled off that rooftop seem to have damaged his ability to connect to others or feel much of anything.
Till is the first person for whom he feels anything while for Till, Mizi is an early crush he puts on a pedestal in a much more commonplace way. I think the shared trauma of competing on that stage makes it much more difficult for either of them to imagine moving on, but Ivan is not wrong in identifying that he won't find that feeling again.
The thing that intrigues me most about this series is the way the contestants' differences play out, particularly with regard to how they view love and how they respond to their individual and shared challenges. I'd love to get into it further another time but this is quite long already so thanks for sticking with it if any have (haha)
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yuri-is-online · 3 days
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Bro floyd is so handsome-
And he's weirdly the only twst character that I can describe as handsome??? Like every other character I like is either cute or pretty. Trey and leona might have been handsome to me at one point but I'm just. Not attracted to them yk? Even Jade! Jade is very pretty! He's my evil little wife! But floyd is like. The only one that's actually handsome, like in the traditional sense. At least to me he is. Just like. His mannerisms I guess... idk man he's cool as hell and weirdly reminiscent of dark vintage americana. Weirdest fucking aesthetic I can connect him to but fuck you I'm connecting them (national anthem demo 1 by lana. I was reading the lyrics and also the overall vibe of that specific version of the song just kind of cemented for me)
Idk dude sometime I just go into you inbox and dump out my twst thoughts with no real purpose or structure and this is one of those times 🦵...also it's 2 am so that probably has something to do with it. Good night Yuri!
The prequel to this ask and also still goodnight because it is rather late here rn
Floyd is very much a mob boss, old Americana, guy you obviously should not be attracted to but still everyone kind of understands why type of guy. He's handsome in italics, in a way that you giggle about and exaggeratedly wag your eyes because hey you could be joking.
He's that sort of handsome where most interested parties would ditch him after a weekend. Handsome in a way that sparks but doesn't start a fire, like one of his bad moods that's strong, horrible, and will do so much damage but is gone as soon as it's come on. Like a man desperate for a real connection and can't quite get it, who is looking into your eyes while it rains outside not saying anything but really wanting you to know it's real. Handsome like the guy who doesn't get the girl but everyone knows if the writer was paying attention to their own characters would have been the better choice.
Handsome in a way that's stammered out without a technicality offered by someone small, vulnerable, and foreign to everything he knows in more ways than just the one obvious fact who ignores all of that stuff. Handsome enough for the spark to catch and the connection to wrap itself around your waist and drag you into the ocean without a single scream because the part those stories often ignore is that there are people who would look at an eel three times there size and still "would."
He laughs, dizzyingly loud and all the things he is at once because what he thinks of you is much simpler than all of that. He thinks you're cute~ so cute he could just eat you up.
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warping-realities · 2 days
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Beautiful Things
Hey, everyone! This story is part of the Viral Transformation funfarre proposed by the one and only @occamstfs, in celebration of hitting 2K followers! Congrats, bro, you totally deserve it. He’s one of our top authors and never fails to bring the best stories.
Before I dive in, I gotta give you a heads-up that this is a story about corruption, where good people turn into the worst kind of folks. If that’s a sensitive topic for you, I’d recommend not moving forward. Trust me, in the original project, things were way worse, but after chatting with the MAN himself, who helped me with some edits, I softened the tone of the story a bit. If you’re interested in the original version, I can post it later, but this is the final cut.
That said, I hope you all enjoy it and join me in celebrating this awesome author!"
Alois was strolling mindlessly in the morning towards the student exchange center in Seattle, where a bunch of fresh-off-the-boat students from all over the world were gathering for the adaptation phase of their exchange semester. The eighteen-year-old Austrian was loving the experience of taking a gap year before diving back into his studies in Vienna, where he planned to become a doctor. As he walked down the busy street, on what should be the only sunny day of the year, he spotted one of those types he had seen around the city. They were all buff and tall, with wavy, well-groomed hair, and the big ol' mustache that defined them, giving off the vibe of some douchebag brotherhood or whatever. This one in particular was jamming out to music on headphones that looked straight outta the nineties, just like his outfit, which consisted of Levi’s jeans, a white tee, a dark jacket, and combat boots. The whole look cranked the douche factor up to eleven, making Alois's heart race a bit as a shiver of attraction ran through him. When the guy passed by Alois, he shot a look at the smaller red-headed man, dripped with arrogance while a smirk played at the corners of his lips, like he knew some secret that Alois was clueless about. To make things worse, the music blaring from his headphones was so loud that Alois couldn’t help but catch a snippet.
“Please, staaaayyyy…”
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That stupid song again. At first, Alois thought it was kinda interesting, despite all the religious preaching in it, which rubbed the young atheist the wrong way. What he didn’t realize was that the singer was all about filming a lot of TikTok videos to promote his work, videos that inevitably flooded the social media feeds of a gay dude with an unfounded attraction to that type of guy. A type that seemed to be multiplying on the streets of Seattle every damn day. Sure, Benson Boone was from Monroe, just a few miles away, but still… Maybe he was looking at things from the wrong angle, maybe it was the singer who was cashing in on the style of the group he and his fellow exchange students had dubbed the Mustache Gang.
The fact is, after several months, the hype around the song should’ve died but apparently that was still far from happening. Trying to leave the discomfort aside Alois headed to the coffee shop that had quickly become his favorite spot during his short stay in the city. As he walked along, head down like most introverts do, he got lost in thought about what kind of work the exchange agency would hook him up with, until his daydreaming was interrupted when those familiar chords hit his ears again.
“I want you, I need you, oh God…”
But this time, someone had slapped a cheerful electronic beat onto the song, which not only butchered it but also made it even more annoying. Looking for the source of that cacophony, he lifted his head and glanced to the side. He could’ve sworn he saw a chubby dude coming his way, but now there was no sign of him, just another one of those big-mustached douchebags strutting around with the swag all of them seemed to have, along with the usual cocky grin. Dressed in a white tank that showed off his defined arms and hairy chest. There was no one else close to Alois on the street at that moment, which was a blessing, since his dick was starting to stir at that sight. But that also freaked him out. Where the hell did that damn music come from? Was he seriously imagining things now?
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Distracted and worried about his sanity, he stepped into the coffee shop. At that moment, the place was almost empty; there was just an old dude, well past his prime, fiddling with his phone, looking like he was in a bad mood while he seemed to be listening to something that deeply disgusted him through the giant headphones he was wearing. Apparently, the use of those things was a trend around there.
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Passing by the old guy, Alois headed to the counter and ordered his usual coffee with cream and sugar. As he made his way back to the exit, still freaking out about his mental state, disaster struck. Clumsy as ever, he tripped and faceplanted on the floor, coffee spilling everywhere and staining a good chunk of his clothes.
“Alois, du bist dumm…”
He said stunned in embarrassment, as he turned to the side, starting to get up. His view landed on black combat boots that ended in large calves covered in denim, leading up to thighs as thick as they come. But the old man was wearing a suit, no? Clearly not, since the Levi’s pants had been replaced by a black hoodie that concealed a massive chest, which the sleeves were stretched to the limit by powerful biceps. The grand torso gave way to a handsome face framed by wavy brown hair, and right in the center, the ever-present slick mustache that even the guy’s prescription glasses couldn’t diminish the douchebag effect. With his eyes closed and a focused expression, he didn’t even seem to notice what just happened right next to him.
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But Alois couldn’t help but wonder, where the hell did that old guy go? While trying to figure out when the old dude left the shop and the Mustache Gang member took his spot at the table, the man seemed to wake up. Smiling and fixing his hair, he finally noticed that a kid was trying to get up from a puddle of coffee right next to him.
“Need a hand, little bro?” he asked, though not with a genuinely empathetic expression; on the contrary, the grin he shot at Alois did little to hide how much he found the situation hilarious.
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“No, I’m good, thanks!” Alois replied, finishing getting up and bolting out of the shop as the guy burst into loud laughter behind him. Apparently, this dude wasn’t just rocking the look of a douchebag. Rushing to wipe the coffee off his hoodie, Alois continued his march to his destination. Luckily, no other mortifying events unfolded along the way. Upon entering the classroom, he passed by Charles, a French dude with long blonde hair and delicate features, who was checking something on his iPad while also rocking a pair of those old-school headphones. Not wanting to disturb his classmate, he didn’t say hi and headed further back in the room, where bis friends Arjun and Qian, hailing from India and Taiwan respectively, were hanging out. As he passed Charles, he heard that stylized version of Benson Boone’s song again.
“I found my mind, I'm feelin' sane
It's been a while, but I'm finding my faith…”
Apparently, he wasn’t going crazy after all. He quickly turned towards the source of the music only to find one of those big-mustached douchebags and no music font at all. But he could’ve sworn that… wasn’t there another person there? A kid with long, well-kept blonde hair? Well, his hair was definitely blonde and well-kept, just like the his mustache. Wearing a tank top that showed off his arms and staring at everyone in the room with an air of immense superiority that made Alois feel torn between attraction and disgust.
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Resuming his path back to his friends, he discreetly adjusted his boner in his sweatpants while sitting down and trying to forget about that damn song.
“So, who’s the jerk sitting at the front of the class like he owns the place?”
“We’ve been wondering that too, man,” Arjun, the skinny Indian boy with long limbs replied.
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” continued Qian, who was more compact, as their teacher, Mr. Sizemore, spoke to the class.
“Guys, today I brought the manager of one of the establishments where you might work. Chuck works at a pub called Shooters; it’s an opportunity we typically offer to our students over twenty one. However, the place has expanded and now also has a Hookah Lounge, the Puff Palace. Although I must say the best option would be for no one here to inhale anything, this is still a decent job opportunity. Without further ado, here’s Mr. Chuck Morris.”
The guy smiled arrogantly before stretching and scratching his neck, causing the lightweight, almost see-through fabric of his tank top to expose his nipples, which didn’t seem to bother him at all. He took his sweet time getting up, like he was in some kind of private show.
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But in Alois’s opinion, it would’ve been better if he had stayed seated and shut up, because the first words that came out of his mouth to the class raised a wave of utter dissatisfaction.
“Hey there, guys! Happy to finally leave your miserable countries behind and be in the greatest nation in the world?” The conversation didn’t get any better after that, and Alois was sure that whatever happened, he’d never set foot in that bar called Shooters.
After class, he was chatting animatedly with Arjun as they headed back to their dorm.
“I’d love to know what that illiterate would do if he knew he was talking to future doctors, engineers, journalists… while he’s gonna spend the rest of his life working in a bar serving people like him,” Alois commented.
“Probably nothing would change. People like him always think they’re superior just because of how they look and because they were born here in the States. Doesn’t matter if they live in a trailer and rely on government assistance.”
“True, ahhh, I want a coffee; I spilled mine all over this morning. Do you want one too?” Alois asked as they passed by his favorite coffee shop again.
“No, I’m good. I’ll go ahead; we’ll catch up later,” Arjun replied, continuing on while Alois entered the coffee shop. After carefully getting his to-go coffee to avoid a repeat of that morning’s fiasco, he turned and headed to the exit when he heard the synthetic chords again, accompanied by that familiar lyric.
“Don't take these beautiful things that I've got…”
This time, he saw where the sound was coming from—a Latino guy a bit older than him was listening through those giant headphones. Feeling sure he wasn’t losing it, Alois allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief, only to get a major scare. In the blink of an eye, where the guy had been, now sat one of those big-mustached dudes, this one bigger and more muscular than the others, but with the same wavy hair and infamous mustache.
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Alois was stunned, staring at the man, who in turn pointed a finger at him as if to assert something and gave him a smile that freaked the young guy out to his core.
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Not knowing how to handle that situation, Alois bolted from the shop, trying to make sense of what he had seen. Still in shock, he entered the room he shared with Qian in the dorm, where his friend was sitting on his bed, fiddling with his phone, still dressed in the button-up shirt and khakis he wore to class.
“Dude, you won’t believe what just happened. You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but… I... I forgot... How bizarre, I'm sure it was important Qian! Qian? Is everything okay? Qian…? You good?” he asked, realizing his friend hadn’t heard a word he said, just to see his face contort and his eyes roll back as if he were convulsing, and then… puff. Right in front of him stood another member of the Mustache Gang, wavy hair, slick mustache, a chiseled face and a muscular body on display.
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“You good??? Qian? Who the hell is Qian? I’m Ken, you foreigner dumbass.” Said the young man of Chinese descent, the irony of using that kind of comment not even crossing his arrogant and brutish mind. “You’re here only because I couldn’t score with an American ass. But a hole’s a hole…”
“I… what…?”
“You just accept a quick hookup on Grindr man, It's not that difficult. Gonna act all shy now? Here in America, that kind of behavior doesn’t fly. Either you do what you came to do or bounce, but then you'll miss out on all this,” the guy replied, flexing his powerful muscles while giving him an arrogant grin. Alois was thinking about where exactly he was and what he was doing there.
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“So ginger, what's it gonna be?”
.....
When he got to the dorm for international students  after getting his ass wrecked by the massive schlong of his Grindr hookup, who he discovered was co-manager of Shooters and Puff Palace alongside Chuck —those two even shared an apartment above the pub—he hated himself for getting into that mess just for a quick lay. Yet, at the same time, it was the best fuck he’d ever had. As he stripped down and got ready to shower and wash off the sweat and sex smell from his body, the distinct ping of a Grindr message caught his attention. Opening the app, he found a new message from Ken Lee.
“Hey ginger I think you’re gonna like this.” Ignoring all common sense, thinking it might be a nude, he clicked the link the other guy sent along with the message. Strangely enough, it was a clip from a podcast where a young woman interviewed a flamboyant man, who was wearing a bright and flashy suit, both chatting animatedly. Everything about them screamed obnoxious  starting with their shrill voices that didn’t stop talking for a second. Losing interest and wondering why a guy like Ken would send that to him, Alois let the video play as he headed to the bathroom in the room he occupied alone in the dorm.
“… so, Benson Boone? He’s such a total hottie, girl!”
“Don’t even get me started, Yasmin! I melt for a guy like that! I’d do him in a heartbeat.”
“Me too, Nico! But with that whole Christian boy vibe, I’m not sure he’s got the moves.”
“Girl, it’s just marketing. A guy like that, with that body? And anyone rocking a mustache like that knows exactly what to do with a girl… or a man.”
“Nico you slut, I heard some rumors…”
“I know, girl! I wouldn’t doubt he’s hooked up with more than a few, after all, a man has his needs, and to a guy like him a hole’s a hole like my brother used to say”
“Oh, my brother always said the same thing. What’s going on that there aren’t any more men like him in America?”
“I’ll tell you, I don’t get it either. Everywhere I look, I only see snowflakes and wimps. They say they are our allies, but this talk about toxic masculinity has turned all of them into whiners. Of course I prefer not to be attacked in the street by a bunch of homophobes, but sometimes all we want is someone to fuck us senseless And no one does it like a good douchebag, and don't come to me with that talk that this is a white, cis man's thing, yada yada yada... all due respect to the cause, but we need more men like this hottie, not less. Real American men, who know what they want and make it happen, I don't care what they do with their lives as long as they fuck me right. So I vote for more douchebags, of all races, creeds and sexual orientations, sis!
“True, Nico! I wish I could make that happen…”
“Me too, girl, but how about we listen to his updated song while we wait for the real American men to come back?”
“Sure, girl, this version is way better and more danceable, perfect for a man to sweep me off my feet. Play it!”
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Then, the chords that had been haunting Alois all day started playing, and he quickly turned on his way to the bathroom to stop the video—there’s no way he’d want to listen to that on his own.
“Mm. Please stay. I want you, I need you, oh God…”
As he turned towards the source of the sound, he froze, hearing it as a feeling of numbness invaded his head and took over his body, barely letting him take a step back before being flooded with memories and sensations that weren’t his. His childhood in Austria was being replaced by one  in Virginia, time spent studying swapped for sports practice, the memory of a skinny physique giving way to a powerful, muscular body, atheism giving way to worship at church every Sunday, even if he spent most of the time distracted, checking out the girls present. And speaking of girls, nights of sex, just banging them in the ass to keep his virginity intact, and when a girl refused, there was always a twink willing to step in. After all hole’s a hole. Then there was the end of school five years ago and the move to Seattle, working as a personal trainer during the day and a bartender at Shooters at night, the apartment shared with Chuck and Ken, and all the possible and imaginable orgies they had . He knew that, as a good Christian, he’d eventually have to give it all up, settle down, and start a family, but until then, the single life was too good to pass up, and he was gonna enjoy it. And even after he gets married if the desire arises, well a man has his needs and one thing he has learned is that no one is a better bottom than a slut boy desperate for a fuck.
“No… no… what the hell…. This can’t be real…” Alois grumbled as he tried to move towards the phone that he now knew had to be the source of this whole bizarre situation. However, with every step he took, his muscles expanded. His skinny chest exploded into slabs of meat that are now pecs, below his abs form into six brick-like blocks, and his arms and legs thicken to a considerable size. His hair grew longer in well-kept waves, and that infamous mustache sprouted and grew on a more masculine and angular face. At the same time, the room he was in transformed, and he found himself on the other side of the city, in the place he had just left a little over 40 minutes ago.
When he got to the phone, Allen adjusted it, fixing the camera angle. That video was gonna be perfect for his TikTok, especially with that new version of Benson Boone’s song, one he’d used in a bunch of other videos, but this remix version was fire.
Fixing his hair and flexing his powerful muscles, he smiled at the camera.
“Yo, what’s up, fam? Today’s heavy lifting day and a wild night at Shooters. If anyone’s interested in what I’m packing here, just swing by or hit up the link to my OnlyFans in the bio. Only for the grown folks, are you really gonna miss out on this?” he wrapped up, crossing his arms in front of his body and flashing one of those grins at the camera.
“Damn, that looks so good!” he said, posting the video on TikTok and heading towards the living room of the apartment he shared with Chuck and Ken, not even bothering to shower. He had a new client coming to the gym in the next hour, so why waste time on more than one shower? “Tonight’s gonna be lit for sure, guys,” he said, talking to his roommates.
“Are you talking about the Indian skinny boy who’s training with you?”
“Ugh, definitely not. Dudes like him are for when there are no other options. But it wouldn’t be a Friday night if Big Al didn’t get some real action.!” He said grabbing his cock and balls over his shorts, laughing. "I can't wait to get some ass." He concludes while shaking his huge cock out of his shorts and making everyone burst out laughing.
“We’re all gonna get some, man. Chuck’s been spreading the word in an exchange class; soon, it’ll be packed with foreign slutty chicks and twinks looking for an American dick, and we can bang them all we want, Red.” Said Ken with a mischievous grin.
"And God bless that! "Chuck added beside him with an identical smile, which was also mirrored on Allen's face.
...
Allen was sitting on a bench in front of the gym, waiting for his new student, a scrawny Indian dude from the exchange program named Arjun.
“You coming, bro?”
“Sorry, I’m on my way. Got held up.”
“So, meet me in the gym locker room so we don’t waste time. In the meantime, check this out,” Allen said, sending the link to Yas and Nico podcast, she was a hot babe even if she seems as dumb as a rock. Not that he cared much about that at all; she was hot, and that was good enough for him, and that Nico had a very fuckable butt. He didn’t even stop to think about why he was sending that video; it just felt like something he should do.
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.....
While he was chilling on a bench in the gym locker room, mindlessly scrolling on his phone, he didn’t notice the transformation happening to his student right behind him. The skinny Arjun was rapidly inflating with muscles and attitude without Allen even realizing it. It was only when he looked up and saw a dude of Indian descent with silky hair and the infamous mustache, wearing nothing but gym shorts, casually scratching his powerful pecs.
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“Art, you still haven’t finished getting dressed, you asshole? We gotta workout, take some pics of our pump for OnlyFans and hit the bar shift afterwards.”
“Chill, Al, I’m getting ready. It’s not like your muscles are gonna disappear because of a five minute delay in your workout.”
“Five minutes is already too much,” he replied, flexing his arms and smiling arrogantly. “Tonight, I want the max pump in these Beautiful Things I’ve got.”
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freakenomenon · 2 days
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one thing i do think is very refreshing from ihnmaims ( specifically the short story ) is that it's violence and sexual nature is VITAL to the story.
the frustration and cruelty being cast down upon these 5 people needs to be displayed for the story to have the effect that it does. if you remove all the refrences to sexual content or the sexual violence or the VIOLENCE in general, it doesn't resonate the same. & the end of the story has less impact.
for example if you remove the way benny was altered it takes away from both ellen and teds characters. its extreme and provocative, but it serves a genuine purpose within the horror of it all.
another example. Ive seen people point out that ellen being a black woman who was placed into an environment with 4 white men who treat her like DIRT despite the fact she is basically their caretaker seems like a bigoted choice on harlans end. but if you think about the treatment of black women in society especially with the time period, it's not there for no reason. if you simply replace ellen with some random white lady who everyone loves. it's just. not as impactful.
if you made benny STRAIGHT from the beginning. it removes the IMPACT of the sexual humiliation. of having your body altered without your say in it and being dehumanized simply because of your attraction to the same sex.
its like how having a character be groomed or assaulted doesn't mean you agree with the nature of those actions, there's a story to be told there. it just has to serve a purpose within that story.
but that's enough of my yapping for today i still have laundry to do
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lilacbunnygirl · 2 days
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bitch,uber to my d*ck
uber driver gojo x fem reader
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➵ summary: after that “terrible” sex you had that night, you go to a bar. seeing you drunk until closing time, the bartender calls you an Uber. you never imagined the driver could be this sexy and straightforward. who knows, maybe after that “terrible” sex, he might give you a good one…
➵ warnings: this story contains +18 content (alcohol, car sex (reader on top), unprotected sex, oral sex (f and m receiving) ) so minors don’t interact!!
➵ author’s note: hello everyone! i was supposed to write the third chapter of “black cat luck”, but i’ve been very busy this week. yesterday, an idea came to me. why am i not writing about the uber driver gojo? I just thought it’ll be so fun and dirty to write! i hope you’ll like it. i’ll also share this story on ao3, so if you like to support me, my account is here. and lastly i have no hatred for turtles, and i never will! you’ll understand what i mean once you read the story. sending love to everyone <333 lilacbunnygirl
➵ word count: 4,791
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You definitely shouldn’t have drunk this much tonight. It was already Monday, and you had a very important presentation. Working in an advertising company was a highly stressful job. Convincing the client to like your ideas and then landing the job was a feeling you had never experienced before. But this time, everything was going to be different. During the brainstorming meeting, your project director loved the slogan you came up with for crackers and wanted you to handle the presentation.
“Eat until you’re full, if you can of course!”
You never understood why he liked it. In fact, it could easily be seen as quite suggestive. It sounded like, instead of crackers, a penis came to mind. But of course, this wasn’t a fake penis ad… Still, it seemed like a memorable slogan.
Right now, you should have been home, asleep. It was 2 a.m. You were going to get up in about 5 hours to go to work. But after that “stress-relieving sex before a presentation,” you definitely needed a drink. Or maybe a few…
You thought it was a good idea to relax by having sex the day before the presentation. Let go of all the stress and just focus on pleasure… After a long time, you re-downloaded Tinder and matched with a guy who seemed really attractive. What both of you wanted was clear. A hot night. You started getting ready 4 hours before the date. You took a shower. Shaved your legs and bikini area. You even exfoliated to make your skin soft. Afterward, you poured yourself some white wine, turned on your music to set the mood, and began preparing. Nothing could ruin your mood today. After the final touches on your makeup, you looked in the mirror. You really looked “fuckable.”
When you arrived at the meeting place, the guy greeted you very well. A delicious meal, light touches, and wine had already put you both in the mood for sex.
Of course, that was until you got into bed…
With those memories, you hit your drunk head against the bar counter again. You thought to yourself, “Goddamn it.” You had bad sex experiences before, but this one… was so bad that it was beyond words.
None of the places he kissed, touched, or licked managed to get you wet. Maybe the part where he fingered you (or we can say tried to) wasn’t too bad, but the moment he entered you, the pain you felt and his weird groaning sounds confirmed that today was going to be awful.
Who the hell groaned like a turtle? You had nothing against turtles. But hearing those noises from the person in front of you completely killed your libido. Sure, turtles groaning during sex was cute and funny, but the person in front of you wasn’t a turtle.
You banged your head on the counter again and sighed. Realizing there was only a drop of your drink left, you raised your head and downed the last of it. Then you looked at the bartender, whose vision was debatable due to your drunken state.
“Hey! You were supposed to stop me after my third drink.”
The bartender, as he put down the glass he was cleaning, replied, “My job is to serve drinks, not stop you from drinking.”
You frowned and said, “I thought they helped in the movies.”
The bartender grinned. “Exactly, because they’re movies. Also, if you’re going to throw up, please don’t do it on the counter. We’re closing soon, and I don’t want to go home late because of cleaning the bar table. The bathroom’s right there.”
You looked in the direction he pointed, but since you were so drunk, everything looked like it was swaying.
“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t feel sick, I just drank wayyyy too much. At home, 2 glasses of wine, at the date 2 glasses, and when I got here…” You tried to count how much you’d drunk on your fingers, but the bartender answered for you, “Six. Six glasses of whiskey. My god, how are you still alive?”
“Don’t worry, after everything I went through today, I really needed it.”
“I probably shouldn’t ask, but… did you have a bad date?”
You steadied your spinning head with your hand propped on the counter. “The worst. I mean, everything started out great. But when we got to the part we both wanted the most… POOF, the whole vibe was gone.”
The bartender laughed at your story and said, “Hmm. So it was bad sex i guess.”
You slammed your hand on the counter and said, “Oh my god, the worst. For the first time in my life, I had sex with a turtle…”
The bartender looked at you in shock after your last words. “Okay! Maybe I really should have stopped you after that third drink.”
“I’m serious! He was like a turtle. Ugh, no, I think I’m going to cry. I just wanted to relax before my big presentation. A good night of sex, some hot moments… You know, a nice way to release the stress. But the only thing today has left me with is being too drunk. Oh, and turtle trauma.” After finishing your story, you rested your head back on the counter.
“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you about my pet turtle, Dorothy.”
You quickly lifted your head off the counter. “NO, PLEASE DON’T!”
The bartender laughed while cleaning more glasses. “Don’t worry, I won’t. But a little advice for you: you really shouldn’t be drunk the night before a presentation, beautiful. It’s almost 3 a.m. and you should be sleeping in your bed right now, not sitting here talking about turtle man you had sex with.”
Whether it was the bad experience or the alcohol, the bartender’s words had suddenly turned you on. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but everything you’re saying is making me want to fuck you even more. Please call me ‘beautiful ’ again.”
The bartender laughed genuinely as he hung the clean glasses on the bar rack. “Alright then, I’ll be honest. I would definitely love to fuck you, beautiful. But not while you’re in this state. I don’t know what happened today with that turtle guy, but if I had been in his place, I wouldn’t have stopped until you’d come at least five times, with my tongue deep inside you to help you forget all the stress.”
Every word he said made your eyes widen even more. Holy shit, you were really wet now. And the bartender had managed that without even touching you.
“I… I think I’m wet.”
A sweet smile appeared on the bartender’s face. “Remember when I showed you the bathroom, darling?” You nodded your head in agreement. You didn’t actually remember, but you’d figure it out somehow. “Alright, do you think you can go on your own? Wash your face and try to pull yourself together. I’ve got a few more glasses to clean up over here. After that, I can call a cab to get you home.”
You nodded again, and despite wobbling a bit, you managed to make it to the bathroom. After splashing cold water on your face, you felt a little better. Even though you wanted him to make you come 5 times with his mouth, right now wasn’t the time. When you got back, the bartender had finished his work and was waiting for you at the front of the bar, holding your coat and bag.
“Welcome back! Feeling better?”
“Yes. But my head is still spinning. Could I give you my phone to call an Uber? I don’t think I can manage to enter the address myself.”
The bartender helped you into your coat and took your phone. He asked for your address. After stuttering a little, you finally told him, and he typed it in.
“Alright, it’ll be here in five minutes. Do you want to step outside for some fresh air?”
“Please…”
He supported you as you walked toward the exit. About seven minutes later, a black car pulled up in front of the bar. Once you realized it was your ride, you turned to the bartender and said, “Thanks for everything.”
The bartender gave you a sweet smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop you after your third drink, beautiful.” He planted a soft kiss on your cheek and said, “Take care, and by the way, my name’s Choso.”
Damn… if only I weren’t so drunk, you thought to yourself before waving goodbye and getting into the car.
After getting in, the driver started the car and began driving towards your house.
“Seems like someone can’t leave their lover behind,” the driver said.
You lifted your head and looked at him. With nearly white hair and sunglasses worn for no apparent reason at this hour he didn’t exactly exude reliability.
“I wish he were my boyfriend. But he just helped me pull myself together. Why do bartenders have to be so handsome?”
“Hmm… he really sounds like a gentleman. So, may I ask why you’re this drunk, sweetheart?”
“I had sex with turtle man.”
The driver let out a loud laugh, as if he hadn’t heard something so funny in a long time. “Oh, sounds fun. But you don’t seem too happy about it.”
Sighing, you replied, “When he couldn’t get me wet no matter what he did, and then started moaning like a mating turtle… yeah, I guess I wasn’t too happy.”
The driver spoke excitedly, “OH MY GOD, I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING AS FUNNY AS MOANING TURTLES!” But then, seeing your unhappy face through the rearview mirror, he added, “Of course, that’s just for turtles. If someone I was fucking made that noise, I’d be upset too.”
“Forget it. At least I have a funny story to tell people. I just… really needed to relax before my big presentation tomorrow, but everything got ruined.”
A sly grin appeared on the driver’s face after what you said. “You should’ve tried hooking up with the bartender.”
You quickly shifted your gaze from the road to the rearview mirror. The driver’s mischievous smile was awakening strange feelings inside you. Damn, could someone’s smile be that attractive? And why were you getting turned on so easily? First the bartender, now the driver…
“Actually, he said he wanted to sleep with me, but not in this state.”
“How unfortunate… because I would’ve definitely pinned you to the bar table and screwed you without caring if you were drunk or not, sweetheart.”
Wait… what?
“Excuse me?”
The driver laughed, “What? Weren’t you the one who wanted to relax?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then like I said, I would’ve fucked you so well, you’d have no strength left to go to work.” After stopping at a red light, the driver turned to look at you. “Want to give it a try?”
“Am I in a porno right now, or are you seriously saying this? Damn it, I shouldn’t have had six drinks!”
With a cocky smirk, he said, "Oh, trust me, this isn't a porno, sweetheart. Right now, alll want is to take you to an empty, quiet parking lot just eight minutes away and fuck you until you're screaming my name." As the light turned green, the driver started moving again.
You sat in the back seat, completely shocked and unsure of how to react, but a part of you was tempted to accept his offer. You'd never gotten a proposal like his from an Uber driver before. Why would you? How did you even end up with this guy as your driver?
You closed your eyes and imagined yourself with the driver. He didn't look bad, and you didn't think he could be worse in bed than the turtle man. On the contrary, he seemed like someone who knew exactly which buttons to push on your body.
"Alright."
"Huh? What did you say?"
"You've got five minutes to get me to that parking lot and fuck me, driver."
His soft laughter filled the car. "As you wish, ma'am."
He made a sharp turn, pulling an illegal U-turn, and sped toward the parking lot. Not exactly one for following rules, you thought. What else could you expect from a guy who makes inappropriate propositions to his drunk passengers?
He had arrived at the parking lot, which he had mentioned would take eight minutes, in almost half the time. The place was eerily quiet, with not even a security guard in sight. Why the hell had you agreed to this? He was definitely a serial killer. As your worries began to escalate, the driver parked the car, pulled the handbrake, and quickly got out, slamming the door shut. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him walk around to your side of the car.
This was it. You were going to die without ever seeing your cheesy, filthy slogan on a billboard.
He opened the door beside you and cupped your face in his hands, gently stroking your skin as he bit his lip. That lip bite alone was enough to make your underwear damp. Leaning closer to your ear, he whispered, “I hope you'll enjoy the ride, ma’am.”
When he brought his face back to yours, you saw the smirk on his lips. Just as you were about to respond, his lips captured yours.
At first, his kiss was soft, exploring your lips, but the moment he brought his tongue into play, everything became wild. His tongue seemed desperate to explore every inch of your mouth, driving you insane. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss as you leaned back on the rear seat, bringing him on top of you. He moaned into your mouth at the shift. His lips left yours, trailing down to your chin, which he licked and bit softly.
“Fuck, you’re so soft I could kiss you forever…”
You moaned in response. When his lips finally reached your neck, you felt like you might pass out.
This was what you wanted. Someone who knew how to drive you crazy with every touch.
He kissed and licked every inch of your neck. “Do you like it, sweetheart? Please, let me mark you… I need to claim you.”
“Ahh…you don’t even need to ask.”
The moment you gave him permission, he sank his teeth into your delicate skin and sucked hard.
“Ahhh…fuck, please…more.”
You felt his smirk against your skin. He pulled back just for a second to remove his sunglasses, and for the first time in your life, you saw the most piercing blue eyes. You stared at him, shocked.
“Like what you see?”
“Yes…” You had no idea what else to say. You didn’t think you’d ever seen someone this sexy.
“Most women say the same thing.” He leaned back down to kiss your lips again.
He hadn’t lost an ounce of his hunger, kissing you just as passionately as before. His hands found the straps of your dress, and he slowly slid them down. When he lowered his head to look at your bare breasts, a low growl escaped his throat.
“From the moment I saw you through the car window, I wanted to put these in my mouth so badly…” One of his hands cupped your right breast, squeezing it gently. When his fingers pinched your nipple, you couldn’t help but moan. He buried his face in your neck again, his hand still teasing your sensitive nipple.
“God… please, I need you to suck them…”
Kissing his way down to your chest, he looked up at you with those bright blue eyes. “Satoru. My name is Satoru. Say my name, sweetheart. I want to hear it from that pretty little mouth of yours while I suck on your nipples.” Without another word, he latched onto your left breast. First he kissed the soft skin around it then teasing your nipple with his tongue, while his hand played with the other breast.
“Satoru…ohhh…mhmm.”
The moment you moaned his name, he took your nipple into his mouth.
“FUCK…GOD…”
He bit and tugged at it, licked and teased, giving you sensations you never imagined possible. After a while, he pulled back, panting, and looked at your breasts. “Pink, round, and so soft…” He gave another teasing lick to your left breast. “My favorite…”
When he finished with your left breast, he quickly moved to the right, giving it the same attention. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing his face closer, letting him know you wanted more.
“Please suck harder…they need to be bitten and sucked harder.” He obeyed, sucking harder. You knew if he continued, you’d orgasm from just this. You never thought it was possible to come just from having your breasts sucked on.
Satoru pulled back, gasping for air, and quickly pulled up the hem of your dress. When he saw the black lace thong, he looked like he might lose his mind.
“You’ll need to lean back a little, sweetheart. I need room to eat your pussy.”
Hearing his raspy voice, you sat up and leaned back against the car door. You were starting to sober up a little.
Once he had the space to move, he started kissing your inner thighs. He bit and sucked every spot he kissed. You moaned softly, wanted him to give you more hickeys.
“You need me to mark you so badly, don’t you sweetheart? Tell me, did that guy ever bite you like this?”
“Ugh…ha…no..” Your voice was weak. Satoru bit your right thigh hard enough to nearly break the skin. Then he said, “Louder, I can’t hear you!”
“OHH…NO…THEY DIDN’T…GOD PLEASE…LICK MY PUSSY, SATORU!”
He licked the spot he’d just bitten and looked at you with that signature smirk. “As you wish ma'am. My passenger’s comfort is always my priority.”
At first, he placed soft, wet kisses on your thong. Each kiss nearly sent you over the edge. He was driving you wild.
“SATORU, IF YOU DON’T PUT YOUR TONGUE IN- OHHH…YES YES, RIGHT THERE….!”
Before you could finish speaking, he had already pushed your thong aside and started running his tongue over your folds. “Be patient. I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart. Just focus on feeling good.”
You did as he said, squirming as his tongue worked away all your tension. He licked every inch of your inner walls and sucked your clit clammily every time he reached it.
“Satoru…there…right there…”
“Here?” SLURP. SLURP.SLURP
“MMMFFP…OH YES YES, SATORU, KEEP SUCKING…”
“I could do this forever, sweetheart. You’re so wet, my mouth is covered in your juices.” His words, combined with the friction from his mouth, were driving you crazy. Without a warning, he shoved two fingers inside you.
"AGH- SATORU...IT HURTS!"
"You're so tight.. I don't know how you're going to take my cock. But l'Il do my best to help you, sweetheart. Now tell me, how many times have you fucked before?"
"Ohh...not many...ughh..faster..."
"By the time l'm done with you, this moment will be unforgettable. No matter who you date or marry, you'll always think of me. AGGH..ONLY. ME. ONLY...fuck.."
"SATORU, I'M SO CLOSE..."
"That stupid bartender could never do this to you. NEVER. Your walls will never grip him the way they're gripping my fingers. CUM ON MY FINGERS, SWEETHEART... I WANT EVERY DROP!"
"OHHH..GOD!"
He pumped his fingers in and out a few more times, feeling your walls tighten around them. When he saw the liquid spill from you, he immediately put his mouth on you and drank every last drop. Fuck. You'd never seen any man get this excited about making you cum. Every guy you'd been with before had only gone down on you to get you off, but Satoru... it was like this was his life's purpose. Every second seemed to make him the happiest man alive.
You were so aroused by the situation that you lifted Satoru’s face, who was still licking you, and made him look at you. His mouth was completely covered in your juices, and his eyes were half closed in pleasure. Pulling his face closer, you wanted to taste yourself from his lips.
“Hmphh… Satoru, lean back on the seat.”
Like a soldier following orders, he moved to sit in the middle of the back seat. As he leaned back, he pulled you onto his lap, guiding you on top of him. As your lips began exploring his neck, you asked, “Do you want me to bite?”
“Please…” he replied, his voice hoarse with approval, and without wasting any time, you began biting and sucking on his neck.
“Have you ever done something like this with another passenger before?” you asked, feeling his grip on your hips tighten as his hot breath hit your neck.
“Ugh… no. But some have wanted it.”
You could swear a smug grin appeared on your face. A sudden wave of jealousy surged inside you, and you pulled your head back to look at his face. Just as you thought, he was smiling…
“Good. I’ve got a little gift for you to make sure you never forget this moment, Satoru…”
As your hands found his bulge, Satoru moaned loudly. “Ahh… I always love gifts, darling.”
There was enough room for you to lean down. You slid off his lap, positioning yourself lower. Kneeling before him, you planted a soft kiss on his manhood through his pants.
“Ugh… I guess it’s my turn to have a comfortable ride…”
You gave him a lustful smirk. With a swift motion, you unbuckled his belt and pulled down his zipper. When you pulled down both his pants and boxers…
Oh… okay, it was really big.
Your eyes widened at the sight. Seeing your reaction, Satoru teased, “HAHAHAHA. Did I scare you, darling?” His tone was challenging.
“Never.” Your firm response was followed by your hands wrapping around his cock, stroking it lightly, which was enough to make him curse. After a bit more stroking, you slowly licked the tip of his cock with your tongue.
“FUCK… PLEASE…”
“Be patient, Satoru.” You echoed his earlier words back to him, and without wasting any time, you took his big, thick cock into your mouth.
FUCK.
Satoru’s hands found your hair, helping you maintain a steady rhythm. Inside the car, the only sound was you gagging. Sucking his cock was turning you on so much that you wanted more. You wanted to take it all in.
“STORRO… MO… MORROO”
“Hm, what did you say… Ugh, sweetheart, yes, yes… DO YOU WANT MORE, HUH? TAKE IT!”
When his hands pushed your head down to take all of his cock in your mouth, the tears that had been building up finally spilled.
“JUST LIKE THAT… EVERY TIME YOU FEEL THAT SORENESS IN YOUR THROAT TOMORROW, REMEMBER WHO FUCKED IT, SWEETHEART… UGH YES YES…”
Even though you were choking and gagging, you didn’t want to stop. Even though your throat was getting raw, you didn’t care. All you wanted was to satisfy him, to taste how sweet his cum would be when he finished in your mouth.
“Baby… I’m so… so close… Fuck… fuck… just a bit more…”
You held on. With all your strength, you waited for him to come in your mouth.
“OUHHHH… FUCKKK….”
As his white fluid filled your mouth, you moaned and tried to swallow it all. It came so fast and uncontrollably that some even dribbled out of your mouth. Slowly pulling away, you planted another kiss on the tip of his cock before climbing back onto his lap.
Satoru was completely spent. His head fell back, his breathing was uneven, and his eyes were closed. You kissed him softly on the lips. “Hmm… I think that was the best thing I’ve eaten today.”
He opened his eyes and chuckled lightly. He licked the cum that had dripped from your mouth down to your neck. “Trust me, sweetheart, nothing tastes as sweet as you. Now… are you ready for the main ride?”
“But you just came…?”
He stroked your face with his left hand. “Ah, for you, I’m always ready, sweetheart.”
You were shocked to feel his cock still hard beneath you. How could he be ready for another round just two minutes after coming? Was this man a god or something?
While you wrestled with your thoughts, he roughly pulled down your thong, tearing it in the process. “AGGH HEY! That was my favorite thong!”
Raising an eyebrow, he replied, “Do you think I care, sweetheart?”
“You should.”
“Oh. Too bad because the only thing I care about is getting inside that tight, warm pussy of yours.” As he lifted you slightly and aligned himself with your entrance, a thought crossed your mind. “Satoru, wait! The condom—OH MY GOD, SATORU…”
Before you could finish your sentence, he thrust into you hard. His large hands gripped your waist, bouncing you up and down on him.
“Ughh… fuck… you’re so tight… I could come again immediately…”
“Satoru… oh god… all this time, I’ve been using Uber, and you show up now? I must’ve seen you before… ughh”
“Believe me, darling, if I had seen you before… -SMACK-… I would have made this offer… -SMACK-… then too.”
Burying your face in Satoru’s neck, you let him take control. He was slamming into you with all his strength. When you bit his neck to stifle your moans, Satoru suddenly stopped.
“Why… why did you stop?”
“If you try to hide your moans again, I’ll take you home without finishing.” His threatening words were followed by him lifting your hips slightly before continuing to thrust into you.
“Ohhh… Satoru… harder, please…”
As he pounded into you harder, you arched your back, wanting to feel the pleasure even more. Your hands clutched at Satoru’s chest. Seeing your breasts bouncing as you moved, Satoru leaned forward and began sucking on them while still fucking you.
Your hands instinctively found his head. You pressed his head into your breasts, not wanting him to pull away. At the same time, you moved your hips, making sure his cock hit your g-spot with each thrust.
“Satoru… I’m about to come… ohhh… please…”
“Hold on a bit longer, baby… you can’t come until I say so.”
He pulled away from your breasts, and your eyes locked. You were overwhelmed by all your emotions. You didn’t think you’d ever experience something like this again.
“Baby… I’m so close AGHHH…”
“SATORU…. FUCK…”
With Satoru’s words, you let go of the orgasm you had been trying to hold back. As the pleasure surged through your body, you felt Satoru release inside you. The warmth filling your pussy was indescribable…
As Satoru leaned back in exhaustion, he pulled you on top of him. Resting your head on his chest, you tried to steady your breathing while a slogan you’d come up with for a cracker ad popped into your head.
“Now I understand more clearly what it means to never get enough…”
Satoru laughed. “Women usually can’t get enough of my cock.”
“Asshole... You might’ve actually rocked my world.”
He kissed the top of your head. “You’re welcome.”
Closing your eyes, you rested a bit longer on Satoru’s chest.
Ten minutes later, as if nothing had happened, you both left the deserted parking lot and headed to your home. You were completely sober now, and there wasn’t a trace of stress left about the presentation. But you might have developed a new addiction: your late night Uber driver…
“Well, is it too late to ask what you do for a living?”
You laughed at Satoru’s question. “Maybe just a bit… I’m in the creative department at an ad agency. My department head liked the slogan I came up with for a cracker ad, so he asked me to present it at meeting on Monday. Which means today...”
“Oh, I love crackers! So, what’s the slogan?”
“Eat until you’re full, if you can of course!”
“HAHAHA. I like it, it’s catchy and a little… naughty.”
Rolling your eyes at his words, you replied, “Yeah, I know…”
The rest of the ride was quiet. When you arrived in front of your house, Satoru stopped the car. Your handsome driver turned to you. “Well, I hope your journey was pleasant and safe, ma'am. Don’t forget to leave a rating, please!”
“You can be sure I’ll give you five stars, driver. Thanks for the ride.” You leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the lips before stepping out of the car.
Satoru didn’t leave until you were inside your apartment. As he remembered the slogan you had shared earlier, he threw his head back and let out a deep laugh.
“God… after today, I don’t think I could ever get enough of you…”
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(satoru gojo art by @narutoss_ramen on x)
@lilacbunnygirl don't copy or translate my works.
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gothamhappiness · 2 days
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Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - Nothing official, right? IV
It's a big series about an afab!reader who doesn't like Bruce Wayne and who still falls in love with him (he fells quicker and harder)
Reader's origin story // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3
Warnings: no proof reading, wild cat!reader, mentions of sexual activity, soft!Bruce to you, you like to gently bully Bruce.
You knew that even if you had told Bruce that you wanted nothing serious, your relationship was actually shifting to something a lot more official.
Everyone was gossiping about the fact that the rich playboy of Gotham seemed to be only spending time with one girl lately. And you were pretty certain that indeed Bruce hadn’t had any kind of romantic or sexual relationship apart from you. You hadn’t either because no one really interested you. It didn’t mean you wanted to be “his” girlfriend.
You were still worried you would lose your credibility now everyone knew Bruce was seeing you. After all, the “son of Gotham” was always followed by paparazzi and you couldn’t hide your relationship forever.
At first, you heard whispers around you; you were just another girl to fall for Bruce. But you kept writing articles about the elite of Gotham and you kept pointing things out. When something was about WE, you simply informed Bruce you were going to publish an article about his enterprises. You kept doing your work. And the man never stopped you from doing so, because he loved that about you. You were ruthless to him, and he was finding it way too attractive for his own good.
The whispers quietened down.
Bruce took advantage of the situation by freely gifting you absolutely gorgeous dresses and jewels, without having to worry about “bribing” you anymore. He was inviting you to his favourite restaurants as well. 
But he was also eager to follow you to little cinemas and places you enjoyed and in which you were more at ease. You always ended up in a hotel room or at your place. You didn’t necessarily have sex, even if he often ended on his knees and in between your legs. At least until Batman was called for duty by Gordon or his kids (he made sure to finish you off before running away). 
After his missions, he almost always came back to you, and you always took care of his wounds and bruises. You were his safe place. His haven.
You never asked questions about what happened. You knew who he was and it was enough for you. You also knew Gotham’s media would soon enough talk about the last adventures of Batman. He was grateful you never interrogated him because he could forget about work when he was with you. 
His children, Alfred and even the Justice League noticed how his mood changed lately. Of course, he was still a grumpy bear but some of his usual anger and despair seemed to have died down. He was more relaxed and even more open to discussion. After all, when he was with you, and that you thought Bruce or Batman should have been better, you always let him know without sugarcoating it. He appreciated it even if it was quite a humbling down experience for him as well. More than once he hinted that he would love to have you working at Wayne Enterprises by his side, but you didn’t want to date someone who would also be your boss. Bruce didn’t answer back that if you were getting married one day, he could easily make you co-CEO.
After a few more weeks, Alfred told Bruce that maybe you could come over to the manor. Bruce hadn’t brought you at first because he knew you would have felt uneasy and judgemental there. And then, he wasn’t too sure he wanted you to meet his family. He had no idea how his children would react to you. 
And even if he loved them, he didn’t want anything to ruin your current relationship. Especially now it was getting obvious to everyone that you weren’t a one night stand, you weren’t just a girl Bruce fancied, you weren’t just some fun for a little while. It was obvious that Bruce Wayne was falling in love. Hard. 
And everyone was whispering about it behind his back, sometimes teasing even him right in front of him (but his deathly stares always made them shut up).
More importantly, everyone was curious about you. 
Of course the children easily found you and followed you around to discover who you were. They hated to admit it but you did seem like the perfect match for both Bruce and Batman. You were fearless, you were intelligent and kind. You were a true detective yourself.
They learnt about your past. They felt like you could understand them too. You knew poverty, you knew violence, you grew up with bad people surrounding you, and yet you decided to be a good person. You decided to stay and to fight for Gotham, even though you could have ran away. And they loved to read your merciless articles about Bruce and Wayne Enterprises. Of course, you calmed down once you started this relationship, but gosh they found some pretty good punchlines they loved to use against their mentor.
During the day, Bruce called you and offered to eat at the manor for once. You understood it meant that your relationship was getting even more serious than you thought, which worried you a little bit. It wasn’t your fault if you were a wild cat. You asked if he was going to introduce you to his family and he laughed.
“I didn’t have time to tell them how to behave around you, so not this time, love. Just you and me.”
“To behave around me?” you asked
“I’ve never presented anyone to them before. Not officially at least.” he explained
“But you want me to meet them?” you hummed
“They ask a lot of questions about you, and they love your articles, so I’ll guess at some point we’ll have to.” Bruce replied
“Sounds good to me… I just need to get ready for meeting all of them. You really need to stop adopting children, Bruce” you teased
“Can’t promise anything” Bruce admitted and you groaned
Unfortunately, the night you were supposed to eat and sleep at the manor was a very busy night for Batman. Alfred was kind enough to start chatting with you. He finally sat down next to you as you both enjoyed some tea while waiting for Bruce. You went along quite well and Alfred went to bed that night, very grateful for whoever sent you on his master Bruce’s path. You were some fresh air in the manor.
It was late in the night when Batman, Nightwing and Red Robin went back home.
Dick and Tim absolutely wanted to greet you and they sneaked into the dinning room as Bruce was quickly showering and taking care of his wounds. Tim was observing you with interest as Dick was being his charming self.
“So you’re the girl” Dick said
“People generally call me Y/N” you replied with a raised eyebrow and Tim chuckled
“Haven’t you read what she wrote about Bruce and Wayne Enterprises, Dick? Be careful, she might kill you with her words” he teased and you laughed
“Do you still stand by what you said despite the fact you are now dating Bruce?” Dick asked with a tilt of the head
“Oh yeah, Bruce is still a rich traumatised guy with a saviour complex, who adopts too many kids each year. The Brucie persona is complete bullshit and I still roll my eyes when I hear him use that voice” you nodded
“That voice?” Tim asked
“The “I’m the good son of Gotham so let me help you” voice” you replied with a roll of your eyes “Gosh, what an actor” you added and both the boys started laughing.
They instantly liked you.
“Why are you with him then?” Dick asked and you hummed in thought
“Despite everything, it seems that Bruce is actually… likeable and interesting”
“You seem disappointed?” Tim commented
“In myself? Yes, very much. In Bruce, well I’ll give him some time” you winked
The boys laughed again but they hoped Bruce wouldn’t actually disappoint you. You were such normalcy, fun and happiness in the man’s life. They were certain you could bring a lot of joy in the family too.
They knew you cared about him a lot more than you were saying when they saw how you got up and checked on Bruce when he entered the room.
“I’m sorry I’m late… Well I guess you were doing well without me” Bruce arched an eyebrow at the four of you; Dick, Tim and Alfred were smiling.
“Oh yes, I was just speaking ill of you, hon” you teased “All good?” you asked and he nodded
“Always when you’re around” he whispered to you before kissing you. 
It was the cue for everyone to leave the two of you alone. Bruce and you forgot about everyone else anyways.
--
PART 5
--
Taglist for all my work <3
@blublock404
@wind-canoe
@silverklaus
@couldeatthatgirlforlunch
Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3
@alishii
Taglist for this series <3
@Esposadomd
@moraxussy
@resident-cryptid
@legendarypiratecheesecake@randomnamedmira
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sea-lanterns · 3 hours
Note
Female lions usually grow manes due to lots of testosterone, so I really don't doubt that Deyha would grow one
Additionally, 'panther' isn't a species and it's just a term for a feline that has too much melanin. There's cases of leopards and lions becoming 'panthers', though jaguars get them most often.
Cougars/Mountain Lions/Pumas have also been called panthers (among WAY too many other names), even though I don't believe they've ever been all black before.
Additionally, snow leopards, tigers, and cheetahs, along with bobcats have never been recorded as being all black like panther be. They have been recorded as having melanism, but not hyperblack melanism like with what's seen on panthers.
Anyway, bringing this up because I've been wondering what kind of panther Arlecchino is.
And I thought it would be funny if she had a mix of all the traits?
Like, she can swim better than any other felid, because she's part jaguar (might even have extra webbing), the climbing prowess of a leopard (able to drag up to 220 pounds into a tree), and umm... I don't know much about lions, 'cause they're pretty boring to me, but maybe Arle has a mane too?
Additional fun-fact about lions. Ones with darker manes are seen as more attractive because darker mane=more testosterone, so if Arle does get a mane, it'd be funny to see how jealous Deyha is of it.
All this said, I just found out panther is also what a cougar is called, so maybe you just mean that Arlecchino is a cougar, if so then... uhh... I hope you found the random stuff I spewed cool :>
—🪽
The big cat infodump I didn’t know I needed until now :0
If we are talking about what kind of big cat Arlecchino would be as panthers aren’t an actual species, I’d say she’d probably be a jaguar like Xilonen! Ever since this AU started, Jaguar! Xilonen and Panther! Arleccchino have always been paired together as they have some sort of rivalry. I think it’d be neat if they were actually both Jaguar hybrids, but Arlecchino’s coat color has a lot of melanin which causes her to be called a “panther.”
Also the thought of Arlecchino being a black lion hybrid is so intriguing too! Since you mentioned that the darker the lion’s mane is, the more attractive they are to mates, I can see Dehya getting jealous because Arlecchino’s mane would be all pitch black! That makes her think you’d be more attracted to Arleccchino’e mane rather than hers! Even though Dehya’s mane is also pretty dark considering her dark hair…
Lol, imagine Lion! Dehya forming a rivalry with Lion! Arlecchino too! Arlecchino beefs with everyone no matter what species of hybrid she is, poor baby 😭😭
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roguishcat · 1 day
Text
Snippet Monday
❤️Thank you very much for tagging me @ghost-of-a-dream-girl, @busy-baker and @xxnashiraxx! ❤️
This is something I've started working on for the 300 followers celebration for @pursuitseternal - a Magistrate Astarion x Reader one-shot where Astarion was never turned! Such a brilliant idea, thank you so much!
So, basically this has all the events of BG3 but Astarion is an elf. And the one-shot takes place post-game. So far, I think I have a general idea of what I'm going to write, so hopefully this is something along the lines of what you would like it to be!
The afternoon sunlight brushed warmly against your cheek as you enjoyed a rare moment of peace. Instead of running around Baldur's Gate, fixing buildings, helping those in need, the Hero of the Gate for once decided to read a newspaper in a park. Something quite mundane for some, a rare luxury for you.
You were not slacking. But you have come to realise that in your bid to please everyone you would soon completely burn out. Which is why you didn’t feel a smidge of guilt when you found yourself going to Bloomridge park instead of the Upper City.
Not having to make any decisions and just simply be for an hour felt absolutely heavenly. Children played, the members of the book club gossiped, and couples whispered among themselves. This was exactly what you loved about this city. No matter how much havoc was wrought, Baldur's Gate healed rapidly and would soon be back to its former glory.
You cast your eyes over the articles in the newspaper. Nothing special, thank the gods. Just silly gossip and the like. You quickly looked through it and gave a happy sigh. No news was always good news in your books!
Yet, no matter how pleasant this little break was, you were well aware that your assistance was needed at ten odd locations today. It was time to get back to work.
Getting up, you looked at the newspaper in your hands and decided that perhaps someone would enjoy reading it. Afterall, there was hardly any reason for you to take the paper with you. And leaving it behind would probably save some poor student a copper. Thus assured that you were doing no harm, you folded the newspaper up neatly and set it down on the park bench for another to enjoy.
Just as you were about to walk away, you heard someone clear their throat loudly.
"What do you think you are doing?"
It was one of the Fists. You didn't recognise him. Perhaps it was a new recruit, seeing as otherwise he would have known who you were.
"Excuse me?"
"You are littering," he stated, pointing to the newspaper with an accusatory finger.
Ah, so a simple misunderstanding.
"I am not littering,” you smiled pleasantly, in spite of feeling that it was rather strange of the Fist to worry about something as inconsequential as litter out of all things. “Just thought someone else might enjoy reading the paper now that I'm done with it."
The Fist did not look impressed by your explanation. In fact, if anything he seemed even more set in his belief that a heinous crime was being committed in broad daylight.
"I am arresting you for littering in a public garden," he seemed to think about it for a moment. "And for arguing with a city guard."
"I've hardly said any-"
"Resisting arrest, are we?" he drawled, making your mouth tighten as you bit back a snarky retort.
"No, I will come with you willingly," you grumbled.
Perhaps if you played along for a bit, you could talk to someone of a higher rank. Saying anything to an overly eager guard who was obstinately sticking to his accusations would just attract onlookers.
"Good. The judge is waiting for your arrival."
"What? What do you mean judge?" you frowned. What business did any judge have looking into misdemeanours and especially something like littering?
"His Honor judge Ancunín is waiting for you. Don't dawdle. It's rude to keep him waiting."
Suddenly all of this made sense. You ground your teeth and followed the Fist. Of course it was Astarion! That ass!
"Oh, trust me. Him waiting for me will be the least of his worries once I see him."
He couldn’t just come by the tavern and talk to you like someone normal. No, he needed a show of power, especially with him being promoted to judge in high court! Because apparently this was how Astarion got his kicks nowadays. He needed for you to be near forcibly escorted to the courtroom and thrown at his feet. Preferably pleading for mercy and asking him if there was any way that you could make it up to him.
You scowled. The whole scenario just sounded like the plot of some cheap, third-rate smutty novel one would pick up at Sharess'. But if he thought that he you would cower before him, that elf had another thing coming!
No pressure tags: @clazberryk, @inkymoonbunny,
@preciouslittlebhaalbae, @lanafofana, @marlowethebard,
@honeybee-bard, @fangbangerghoul
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jeanmoreautemple · 14 hours
Note
A hard task: Rank the AFTG characters by attractiveness!
Hi nonny thanks for coming
Hard indeed, I hope you meant by how attractive they are in-universe, cause I’m going with that:
Allison. As per the extra content, Allison is straight up objectively beautiful, the kind of beauty you stop and gawk at in the airport according to Nora. She also has all the products and clothes money can buy so she’s always looking flawless. Neil doesn’t mention anything about her looks other than her design clothes but Neil is Neil.
Kevin. Narratively speaking, Kevin should be extremely attractive, as his character is meant to follow the tropes of The Ace and Always Someone Better. The comments Nicky makes about him suggest that he is indeed hot and it is a well known fact, as Erik seems to agree. But he is said to be “handsome through careful grooming”, meaning he needs to make an effort to look that good. His nice appearance is very deliberate. Jean calls him beautiful too, but he also calls Renee a pretty face , when Nora has said that she looks mostly normal, so it might be a sentimental statement.
Jeremy. Another good combo of being naturally good looking + being an athlete + putting all the money and effort he wants into his looks. He’s a rich guy living in LA and we know he goes to the hair salon. Nora said he has befriended 90% of his rivals worldwide and I think great part of that charm comes from his looks. Jean seems to be down for him since before meeting, just from looking at his game broadcasts and articles.
Jean. Jeremy and Laila comment on it first thing meeting him in person, even with Jean’s crooked nose and unevenly cut hair. A bad nose and a bad hair game would usually ruin someone’s appearance, so it says a lot about Jean’s looks. And he is putting 0 efforts as he believes he’s worthless. Jeremy mentions: raven haired, tall, all coiled strength, long limbs—you get the idea. And again narratively speaking Jean should be good looking: it’s depressive but most outside the nest so easily believing the rumours follows the So Beautiful It’s a Curse trope. Two contemporary characters with SA storylines heartbreakingly similar to Jean are Finnick from The Hunger Games and Genya from the Grishaverse, both also beautiful and SA’d since little in front of everyone. Both easily dismissed as seducers.
Neil. Good looking enough for Nicky and Andrew to take notice from the beginning, and for Allison to immediately try to flirt with him to make Seth jealous, even though he’s like 5’3’’ and Seth was like 6’1’’. And everyone thought he was trailer trash lol. His face card must be insane. He also puts absolutely 0 effort into his looks.
The rest all look normal according to Nora, but shoutout to Matt who gels his hair into spikes and is (at least) 6’4’’. I personally thinks he’s super hot.
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mononijikayu · 2 hours
Text
puddin’ pop — kamo choso.
Tumblr media
GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!
WARNING/S: fluff, romance, opposites attract, female! reader, not safe for work (nsfw), r-18, smut, body praise, kissing, rough sex, p-i-v sex, pet names (puddin' pop, sweetie and others....), societal prejudice, love, overflowing cuteness, slice of life, humor, light-hearted, being in love, romantic gestures, healthy relationship, tender affection, sexual intercourse, aftercare, boyfriend – girlfriend relationship, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of body praise and care, depiction of naked bodies, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of alcoholic consumption, mention of sexual intercourse, metal head bf! choso, pastel girlie! gf reader, pastel girlie gf! loves her metal head bf! choso so much, everyone if you're looking for love, make sure its as stinking cute and loving as this one, its what everyone deserves!!!;
WORD COUNT: 7.8k words.
NOTE: this entire thing was inspired by this art made by the lovely ushy on twitter!!! i was just dazzled and in love with the possibilities of who metal head bf choso could be like. i was enthralled. so, a lot of credit goes to ushy for creating such spectacular art that inspires me and others well!!! please check out ushy's art and support them too!!! anyway, this is the first time choso won the polls so im happy!!! i hope you all enjoy this!!! i love you all <3
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
YOU LIKE THE FACT THAT YOU BOTH WERE DIFFERENT. Because it compliments you both so well, almost like yin and yang. At least that’s what Choso likes to say. And you agree with him. Choso and you couldn't be more different on the surface.
You were the pastel princess of the campus, always draped in floral skirts, baby pink cardigans, and bows in your hair. Everywhere you went, you seemed to bring a little sunshine and joy, something that stood out against the often drab college environment. People on campus often teased you, calling you a "walking cotton candy" or a "flower fairy."
Your boyfriend Choso, on the other hand, was a looming presence. Tall and muscular, his arms were covered in dark tattoos of skulls, serpents, and symbols no one dared to ask the meaning of. He wore black band shirts—Slayer being a favorite—ripped jeans, and chunky boots. His piercings glinted under the sun, and his eyeliner gave him a perpetual brooding look. Kamo Choso was the guy you didn’t approach unless you had to.
And because of this, people always wondered how you two could possibly be together. You couldn’t have been anymore from different worlds, galaxies entirely. Whispers never failed to follow you both wherever you went on campus, speculating that you must be too sweet for him or that he was just putting on an act. No one could see how you fit until today. And if you were being honest, you could care less about their invalid opinions.
Today was Choso’s concert with his metal band, and you hadn’t seen each other all day due to classes. And you can tell that it was already getting to you. It was fine to text him and all, but you like having your boyfriend around. You like holding him and kissing his cheeks. And he was warm. And it was getting colder. As you stood chatting with some friends outside the student union, the heads started to turn.
“Is that Choso?” one of your friends whispered, wide-eyed.
You turned, and there he was, his black combat boots stomping across the quad toward you. Your face flushed, your eyes bright eyed. Your lips peaked into a smile. But you noticed the look on his face and you couldn’t help but blink.
His face was still set in that familiar grimace that made people nervous, but you could tell immediately something was different. His hands were hidden behind his back, and his eyes flicked to the ground every few steps, like he was nervous.
“Hey, sweetie.” Choso said, his voice a soft contrast to his intimidating appearance. You could feel people watching you both, but Choso didn’t seem to notice. He reached behind him and pulled out a black band T-shirt—one with a matching Slayer skull logo to the one he was wearing.
“Uh, I was wondering if you... y’know, wanted to match tonight?” he asked, his face flushing red under the tattoos. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, as if he wasn’t the lead guitarist of one of the loudest, most intense bands on campus. He was just your beloved boyfriend Choso, looking like a shy boy asking for a favor.
There was a moment of stunned silence from the people around you. You could feel their confusion, the gears in their heads turning as they tried to reconcile the image of the “scary goth guy” with the one standing before you, blushing and fumbling over his words.
You giggled, clicking heels as you stepped closer and took the shirt from him. “Of course, babe! I’d love to match with you tonight.” You leaned up to kiss his cheek, making his blush deepen as a soft, content smile spread across his face. “I’m thankful you thought of me at all, babe. Thank you so much.”
“I always think of you a lot, sweetie.” He says to you in reply, which only made you swoon even more as you let your body embrace his own as you squealed about how much you loved him. And he smiled, as though the world was the most beautiful place.
That was when everyone seemed to get it. They saw the way Kamo Choso looked at you like you were the most precious thing in his world, how gentle he was with you despite his intimidating exterior. They realized that underneath all the black clothes, makeup, and tattoos, he was a gentle giant—soft, sweet, and completely devoted.
The campus finally understood why you worked. And yet all at once in the same breath, still not understand it at all. But you could hardly care.
As you slipped into the matching shirt, a wave of excitement ran through you. The black Slayer logo against your usual pastel aesthetic was jarring, but you loved the idea of supporting Choso in his world. Even if metal concerts weren’t your usual scene, being there for him made it all worth it.
You walked hand in hand toward the venue where his band would be performing later that evening. You enjoyed having his fingers intertwined with yours and his skin rubbing against you. You looked at him and grinned, which he returned. You both just enjoyed each other’s company, no matter what. Well, that’s what happens when you’re each other’s world.
Onlookers still stared, trying to wrap their heads around how the “campus goth king” and the “girly sunshine queen” made sense together. It wasn’t long before one of your friends caught up with you, curiosity bubbling over.
“Okay, I have to ask. How does this even work?” she asked, her eyes bouncing between Choso’s heavy chains and your flower-printed purse. “You guys are, like, total opposites.”
Choso chuckled softly, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. You smiled up at your beloved boyfriend, feeling the warmth in his gaze before answering. You didn’t even want to stop looking at him. Your boyfriend was the prettiest, loveliest boy you ever laid eyes on. And everytime you looked at him, you just fell more deeply in love. 
“Well, it’s pretty simple, really.” you started, glancing at him for confirmation. He nodded for you to continue. “We balance each other. He’s got this tough look and I’m more on the bright and bubbly side, but it’s what’s inside that really matters.”
Choso squeezed your hand and added, “She brings me a lot of peace. People think I’m all dark and broody, but if there was any color in me, its my sweetie, here. She’s the one who helps me stay grounded. And honestly, I don’t think I’d ever smile this much without her.” His eyes softened as he spoke, showing a rare vulnerability. “I just….love my sweetie, you know?”
Your friend’s expression shifted from confusion to understanding, the pieces falling into place. “That’s actually... really sweet.” she admitted, looking at Choso with a bit less intimidation and a lot more curiosity. “I guess it’s just surprising because you both seem so different on the outside.”
You laughed, nudging Choso playfully. “Well, I’ve always believed it’s what’s on the inside that counts, right?”
Choso smiled shyly, looking a little embarrassed but happy. “Yeah, and we love each other. Doesn’t matter if we’re all black or pastels. We’re happy together. That’s it.”
By now, more people around you were starting to take notice, seeing the softer side of Choso they’d probably never expected. It became clear to everyone that your differences weren’t a problem—they were the reason you worked so well together. You could be the sunshine in his life, and he could be the calm, steady presence in yours.
As you approached the venue together, You could see that Choso’s bandmates were setting up the stage. They were all dressed in their usual dark, edgy attire, but they greeted you with warmth and fondness. It’s been like this for as long as you remember. They’re really the nicest people you know. And you’re happy because it means your boyfriend will always be surrounded with good people. And because of that, you would be too.
“Looking good in that shirt!” one of the band members teased, smirking at Choso as if to say, You really got her to match you, huh?
Choso grinned sheepishly, clearly proud but trying to play it cool. “Yeah, well, she’s supporting us tonight. Best girlfriend ever, right?”
You giggled and nodded, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Only for you, my baby.”
Before the show started, you found your place in the crowd. It was always the same one. Choso alway insisted that you always be near him as possible to not only make sure he knows you were safe — but so he can always see you and wink at you. And then you would blow back a kiss each and every time. It’s your boyfriend’s favorite part of the show.
You take a sip of your drink. People smiled at you and greeted you. You were a regular at the shows already. But it was always surreal being surrounded by people dressed in all black, while you, with your pastel skirt peeking out from under the band shirt, stood out like a daisy in a field of midnight roses. And all of them were happy to see you there too. Choso’s shows were always such a happy, safe space for you. 
But as the music started, something magical happened.
The moment the first riff tore through the air, it was as though Kamo Choso transformed before your eyes. His quiet, reserved demeanor melted away, replaced by an electrifying energy that radiated from the stage. The powerful riffs and heavy beats pulsed through the venue, reverberating in your chest, and you could feel the intensity of every chord he struck. His hands, the same ones that were always so soft and tender when they held you, moved with precision and power across the strings, commanding the music with effortless grace.
Despite the raw energy of the performance, there was something oddly calming about watching him like this. Seeing him completely in his element, doing what he loved with such passion, brought you a quiet sense of pride.
Every note, every beat, seemed to echo the essence of who he was—fierce, strong, but also thoughtful and deeply connected to his art. And in that moment, it became clear just how much of himself he poured into his music. You could tell that the stage was where he felt most free, and watching him there made your heart swell.
As the concert progressed, the crowd was fully immersed in the music, their energy feeding off Choso’s commanding presence. But every now and then, amidst the chaos, his eyes would seek you out.
Between songs, during brief moments of stillness, he'd glance over in your direction, his gaze softening when he found you in the crowd. It was his silent way of making sure you were okay, that you were enjoying the show, and it warmed your heart to know that even in the middle of performing, he was still thinking of you.
And then, you noticed the shift in the crowd.
People started glancing between the two of you—first at Choso, then at you, as if they were piecing together something they hadn’t quite understood before. They saw the way he’d search for you with his eyes, the subtle smile that would tug at his lips when he spotted you. They saw how your face lit up, your cheers louder than anyone else's, a beacon of support and pride for him to latch onto. 
It was as if, in that moment, the connection between the two of you was undeniable. The bond you shared became as visible as the music that surrounded you, a harmony of its own. Choso’s fans, who had admired him for his talent and stage presence, were now witnessing a softer side of him—a side that belonged solely to you. The glances from the crowd turned from curiosity to understanding, like they finally saw the deeper layers of the person who held their admiration.
And as the music swelled and the concert reached its climax, you could feel it too: the unspoken love that bridged the gap between the stage and the audience, a love that was yours and his, seen in every stolen glance, heard in every note. In that moment, it was as if the whole room was in tune with the rhythm of your connection, an energy that transcended the music itself.
When the final song came to an end, Kamo Choso walked over to the edge of the stage, still holding his guitar, and mouthed, “I love you.” 
Your heart swelled as you mouthed it back, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much. You just love him so much, and it made you the happiest person alive.
After the show, a few students from campus came up to you both, clearly still surprised but now more accepting of your relationship. One girl, who you recognized from your sociology class, shyly approached you.
“You two are actually kind of... adorable together, you know?” she admitted. “I didn’t get it at first, but seeing you both... it makes sense now.”
You smiled, giving her a nod of appreciation. “Thanks. We may seem like opposites, but we’re perfect for each other.”
As you and Choso headed home later that night, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in how you’d shown everyone that love doesn’t have to look a certain way. It doesn’t matter if you’re a pastel-wearing girly girl or a tattooed metalhead. Love is about finding someone who understands you, who balances you, and who makes your life better just by being in it.
And that’s exactly what you and Choso had—something perfectly imperfect, something that made sense in all the ways that really mattered.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
AFTER CLASSES SEPARATED YOU BOTH, YOU FINALLY CAME TOGETHER. You haven’t seen Choso since he got stuck for his violin recitals, so you were bored. It’s not like you weren’t doing anything in fashion classes, but you wanted to see him.
He was your energy boost. Just as much, he was your happy pill. And with a deadlock with your project, you needed to see him to freshen up. So, he finally had free time, he told you he’d come see you.
That’s also how you and Choso decided to go on a date, something simple yet special—just the two of you wandering through the city, hand in hand, without a care in the world. You were dressed in your usual soft pastels, a baby blue sundress fluttering around your legs as you walked, while Choso, in stark contrast, wore his typical all-black outfit. His band tee hung loosely over his broad frame, and his boots clunked with each step beside you.
As you entered the small café, people couldn’t help but glance in your direction, eyes widening at the sight of the unexpected pair. You were the picture of sweetness, like something out of a fairytale, while Choso looked like he just stepped off the stage of a rock concert. The two of you couldn’t be more different visually, yet anyone who took a closer look could see the way your fingers intertwined so naturally, how Choso’s eyes softened every time you spoke.
You found a cozy corner booth, and as you sat down, Choso immediately slid into the seat beside you rather than across from you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, and you smiled up at him, already feeling the warmth of his presence.
“What do you want, puddin’ pop?” you asked sweetly, your voice loud enough to catch the attention of the café staff nearby. The barista paused mid-order, eyes darting toward Choso, as if unsure she heard you right.
Choso, the ever-serious and brooding figure, glanced down at you with a soft chuckle, his fingers tracing light circles on your arm. “Whatever you’re getting is fine, babe.” he murmured, his tough exterior melting away completely in your presence.
The barista, clearly stunned by the interaction, couldn’t hold back her curiosity when she came to take your order. “You two… are so cute together!” she said, hesitantly at first. “I mean, I never would’ve guessed, but… it works!”
You laughed, used to the surprise reactions by now. “Thank you! Yeah, we get that a lot.”
The barista smiled, her nerves relaxing as she took your order. As she left, you turned back to Choso, your grin wide and playful. “See? Even she thinks you’re sweet, puddin’ pop.”
Choso rolled his eyes good-naturedly, though the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed how much he loved the nickname. “You and that nickname…” he muttered, but the smile tugging at his lips told you he didn’t mind one bit.
“Well, you are my puddin’ pop, aren’t you?” you teased, leaning into his side. “You’re like pudding—soft and sweet—and a lollipop, ‘cause you’re a treat.”
Choso groaned playfully, covering his face with his free hand as if embarrassed, but the warmth in his voice gave him away. “You’re gonna make me lose all my street cred, you know that?”
You giggled, giving him a peck on the cheek. “You’ll always be the cool goth guy to everyone else, but you’re my sweet puddin’ pop.”
As the two of you enjoyed your time together, sipping on drinks and sharing pastries, people in the café couldn’t stop sneaking glances. They saw the stark differences in your appearance but couldn’t deny the undeniable connection between you.
Choso’s tough exterior was all but gone when he was with you, replaced with soft smiles and gentle touches. To them, it was unexpected, but to you, it was perfectly normal. Choso, for all his darkness and edge, was the sweetest person you’d ever met, and he showed it in every little way.
But that didn’t bother you. You and your beloved boyfriend continued to talk about things that interest the two of you. Recently, he told you about his progress in some violin concertos and you told him about your progress on your final project for the design class you were in. The world was an echo when your Choso was talking, after all.
As you left the café hand in hand, Choso gave you a loving glance. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?” he asked, his voice quieter now, like it was just meant for your ears.
You smiled up at him, heart fluttering. “I know. And that’s why you’ll always be my puddin’ pop.”
And as the two of you strolled through the city, the sight of the goth guy and the pastel princess, people couldn’t help but admire how well you fit together. You were a perfect, unexpected match—proof that love doesn’t have to look a certain way.
As you and Choso wandered through the city, you could feel the occasional glances from passersby, but by now, you were so used to it that you didn’t even pay them any mind. Choso, however, always kept his guard up just a little, glancing sideways at anyone who looked too long. Not out of annoyance, but more out of protectiveness. Even though he was soft with you, he still liked to make sure no one thought they could mess with his sunshine.
You led him into a little boutique that had caught your eye, one filled with pastel-colored dresses, accessories, and things that practically screamed “you.” As soon as you walked in, you heard a small group of girls gasp near the entrance. You caught a snippet of their whispered conversation:
“Oh my God, is that him? The goth guy from campus?”  
“Wait, that’s his girlfriend? I didn’t know they were actually dating. They’re so... different!”  
“But look how cute they are together!”
You giggled softly, squeezing Choso’s hand as he rolled his eyes, his face slightly red from the attention. He wasn’t much for the spotlight when it came to your relationship, but it was hard to avoid it when everyone seemed so fascinated by the contrast between you two.
As you browsed through the racks, you couldn’t help but pull out a pastel pink sweater with tiny hearts embroidered on it. “This is so cute!” you exclaimed, holding it up for Choso to see.
He gave it a look, raising an eyebrow. “It’s… definitely you, sweetie.” he said with a smirk, though his tone was affectionate.
“Of course it is! What do you think, puddin’ pop? Would you wear it if I bought a matching one for us?”
Choso let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, no. I’ll stick with my black, sweetie. Thank you though."
You pouted playfully, nudging him. “Come on, just once? For me?”
Choso softened, and you could see the internal battle playing out on his face. You knew he’d do anything to make you happy, even if it meant stepping way out of his comfort zone. “Alright, fine sweetie.” he relented, sighing dramatically. “But only because you’re cute.”
Your eyes lit up, and you threw your arms around him in a quick hug. “You’re the best!”
The girl at the counter couldn’t stop staring as you and Choso approached to pay. She looked completely bewildered, like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “I—I love your outfits….” she stammered, scanning the pastel sweater. “You two are really… um, adorable.”
Choso, clearly flustered, mumbled a quiet “Thanks!” while you beamed and responded. “Aren’t we? He’s my sweet puddin’ pop, after all.”
The cashier blinked in surprise, probably not expecting the goth guy who looked like he belonged in a metal band to be called something so cute. But as she handed you the bag, you caught the faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. It was as if she’d just witnessed a secret that made perfect sense in some strange way.
After leaving the boutique, Choso let out a deep breath, clearly relieved to be out of the spotlight. “I can’t believe you convinced me to get a pink sweater.”
You giggled, taking his arm and leaning your head against it. “You’re gonna look so cute, though! I’ll take a picture of us together and keep it forever.”
Choso groaned, but there was a smile on his face as he shook his head. “Only for you. I swear, you’ve turned me into a complete softie, sweetie.”
You looked up at him, eyes sparkling. “But you’ve always been a softie. You’re just finally admitting it.”
He gave a soft, resigned laugh. “Yeah, yeah… whatever you say.”
The two of you continued your walk, eventually ending up at your favorite park. As you found a bench to sit on, the sun began to set, casting a golden glow across the trees and flowers. It was quiet and peaceful, and you felt Choso’s arm wrap around your shoulders again, pulling you close.
For a moment, everything was perfect. You didn’t care about the stares or the whispers or the way people seemed to be so fascinated by the two of you. All that mattered was how you felt when you were with him—like the world was a little brighter, a little softer.
You glanced up at him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You know, no matter how many people are surprised by us, I still think we’re perfect together.”
Choso smiled down at you, his eyes filled with a warmth that only you got to see. “I know. I wouldn’t trade this for anything, sweetie.”
And as the sun dipped below the horizon, the two of you sat there in comfortable silence, content in your own little world where opposites didn’t just attract—they completed each other.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
YOU HAD FREE TIME, AND HE DID TOO. So, it was just right for him to come by and cuddle with you. It was a quiet evening when Kamo Choso walked into your apartment, his usual black boots clunking against the hardwood floor as he made his way to where you were curled up on the couch. You looked up from your book and smiled when you saw him, your pastel-colored socks contrasting with the dark, brooding aura he carried everywhere.
"Hey, puddin' pop." you greeted sweetly, holding your arms out for him.
Choso's lips twitched into a soft smile as he walked over to you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. He settled beside you, his arm casually draping around your shoulders as you snuggled into his side. For a moment, the two of you just sat there in comfortable silence, but you could tell there was something on his mind.
He cleared his throat a little awkwardly, running his hand through his messy hair. “Hey… so, I, uh… I wrote a new song, sweetie.” he started, his deep voice a little unsure.
You sat up, instantly interested. “Really? That’s amazing! What’s it about?” 
His eyes darted away for a second, the usual confidence he exuded seeming to falter as his cheeks tinted pink. “Well… it’s about you.”
Your eyes widened in surprise, your heart doing a little flip at his words. “Me? You wrote a song about me?”
He nodded, clearly trying to play it cool, but you could see the faint blush creeping up his neck. “Yeah, I mean… I’ve been working on it for a while. It’s for the band. I wasn’t sure if you’d be into it, though, since, you know, you’re not really big on metal.”
Your heart practically melted at his bashful tone. Choso, the brooding goth guy who looked like he could crush someone with a glance, had written a song about you? It was like every romantic dream you never knew you had was suddenly real.
“Oh my gosh, puddin’ pop!” you squealed, your hands grabbing his arm in excitement. “I want to hear it! I don’t care if it’s metal, I’ll love it just because it’s from you!”
He chuckled, a little nervous but clearly pleased with your enthusiasm. “Are you sure? It’s kinda heavy, sweetie…”
You practically jumped up from the couch, tugging him along with you. “I’m sure! Come on, I need to hear this!”
Choso laughed as you dragged him to his guitar, which he had brought over for practice. He picked it up, settling it on his lap as you sat back down, eagerly waiting for him to start. The way your eyes sparkled made his heart swell with affection. He strummed a few notes, tuning the strings before looking at you with a small smile.
“Alright, sweetie….” he said softly, his voice gentle in contrast to the deep rumble of the guitar. “Just… keep an open mind, okay?”
You nodded eagerly, clasping your hands together as if you were about to witness the performance of a lifetime. Your eyes were shining brighter than ever before. Your face was focused on him, awestruck already. It’s as if you had decided that it was already the best song in the world (which to you, it was.)
Choso took a deep breath before he started playing, the guitar riff heavy and intense, but there was a surprising tenderness woven into the melody. It was raw, powerful, but there was an undercurrent of emotion that made your chest tighten. 
He began to sing, his voice low and gravelly, but the lyrics were… beautiful. They spoke of love, of safety, of someone who brought light into his dark world. Each word made your heart race faster as you realized just how deeply his love for you had inspired every note, every line.
Even though you weren’t as big into metal music as he was, you could feel the emotion behind each chord. It was him, pouring his heart into the music in a way only he could. You watched him, completely enraptured, as he sang about how you made him feel—how you were his bright spot, his calm amidst the storm.
When he finished, there was a brief silence, the air between you both charged with emotion. He glanced up at you, a little hesitant, waiting for your reaction. “So… what do you think, sweetie?” he asked quietly, his tough exterior cracking just a little as his vulnerability showed.
You didn’t even know how to put your feelings into words, so you did the only thing you could think of. You launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug. “Oh my sweet sweet puddin’ pop! That was beautiful! Oh my God, I can’t believe you wrote that for me! I love it, I love you!”
Choso’s arms wrapped around you instinctively, his deep chuckle vibrating through his chest as he held you close. “You really liked it? Even though it’s, you know… metal?”
You pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, your smile wide and full of love. “It doesn’t matter what genre it is! You put your heart into it, and I could feel it. It was perfect.”
Choso’s smile softened, and he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, his hand cradling the back of your head. “I’m glad. I just… wanted you to know how much you mean to me. You’re everything, you know?”
You felt your heart swell, your love for him overflowing. “You’re everything to me too, puddin’ pop. I can’t believe you wrote me a song,” you gushed, still in awe of how deeply his love for you translated into everything he did.
Choso blushed again, clearly not used to being fawned over like this. “Well… you inspire me, sweetie.” he mumbled, his voice gruff but full of affection. “Always.”
You grinned, resting your head against his shoulder as he held you close. “I’ll always be your biggest fan, no matter what. Even if I’m not the biggest metalhead.”
He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your hair. “That’s all I need.”
You stayed wrapped in Choso's arms for a while, the warmth of the moment lingering between the two of you. His heart was still pounding against your cheek, and it was clear that even for someone as stoic as him, sharing the song with you had meant the world.
"I can't believe you were nervous about showing me that, hm?" you whispered, tracing little circles on his chest. "It was so beautiful. The way you turned your love into music... you’re amazing, puddin’ pop."
Choso let out a soft, almost bashful chuckle. “Yeah, well… it’s easier to play it in front of a crowd than just for you. I wanted it to be perfect, sweetie.”
Your heart melted at his honesty, and you squeezed him a little tighter. "It was perfect. And it just makes me love you more."
Choso smiled softly, the tough-guy act completely dropped as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. “Good.” he said quietly. “Because I’ll probably write a dozen more songs about you.”
You laughed, your cheeks flushed with warmth. "Promise?" you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.
“Promise, sweetie.” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you again, slow and tender. 
There was something about Choso’s kisses that always made you feel like the world had stopped for just a second—like the two of you were the only ones who existed. And in moments like this, it didn’t matter if you didn’t share his love for metal music or if your pastel wardrobe clashed with his dark, edgy style.
When the kiss ended, you both settled back on the couch, with Choso resting his guitar against the wall. You nestled into his side, your fingers laced together. The silence between you was comfortable, but you could tell there was still something on his mind.
“I’m thinking about playing it at our next gig, sweetie.” he finally said, glancing down at you. “I’d want you there… if you’re up for it.”
Your eyes widened with excitement. “You want me there when you play it? Of course, I’d love to be there!”
Choso looked relieved by your enthusiasm, though there was still a hint of nervousness in his eyes. “It’ll be loud, though. Probably going to be louder than our last gig since it’s with other metal bands.”
You grinned, nudging him gently. “I’ll bring earplugs, don’t worry. But I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I want to be there when you play our song, you know?”
Choso’s gaze softened, and he squeezed your hand. “You don’t know how much that means to me, sweetie. It’ll be the first time I’ve played a song that personal.”
You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Well, now it’s personal to me too. I’ll be there, cheering you on in my pastel outfit, and I’ll make sure everyone knows I’m the one you’re singing about."
He chuckled, imagining the sight of you in the crowd, all sweetness and sunshine, while his band rocked out on stage. “You’ll definitely stand out, sweetie.” he said with a teasing smirk.
“Good! I want everyone to know I’m your biggest fan, puddin’ pop!” you replied with a grin.
Choso kissed the top of your head, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand. “You always have been.”
The rest of the night was spent in quiet contentment. You stayed wrapped up in each other, talking about his band, the upcoming concert, and the thought of hearing your song live for the first time. Choso shared little stories from his rehearsals, his voice full of excitement whenever he mentioned the moment he’d finally reveal the song to the audience—and to you.
“I’m already planning my outfit!” you joked, imagining what you’d wear to one of his gigs. “Something cute but not too out of place.”
Choso laughed, pulling you closer. “Wear whatever you want. I’ll be proud to have you there, no matter what.”
You looked up at him, your eyes full of love. “I’ll be there in the front row, cheering for you. And afterward, we’ll celebrate with a giant lollipop, since, you know, you’re my puddin’ pop.”
Choso groaned, his cheeks turning a faint shade of red, but the smile on his face didn’t fade. “You’re never gonna let that nickname go, are you?”
You giggled, shaking your head. “Never. It’s part of the deal.”
He rolled his eyes, but the fondness in his voice was undeniable. “I guess I can live with it… as long as you keep being my inspiration.”
And with that, the two of you fell into a peaceful silence again, your hearts full of love. As the night continued, you couldn’t help but think about how lucky you were. Choso might’ve been tough on the outside, but underneath all of that was the sweetest, most caring person you’d ever met. And now, knowing he’d written a song about you, you felt even closer to him than ever before.
No matter how different you seemed on the outside, Choso’s love for you translated into everything he did—from his quiet moments with you to the powerful music he created. It was all a reflection of the way he saw you, and it made you fall even deeper in love with your sweet, tough, and tender-hearted puddin’ pop.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
IT’S BEEN A WHILE FOR BOTH OF YOU SINCE ITS FINAL WEEK. Your metalhead boyfriend Choso finally arrives at your dorm, his presence immediately filling the room with warmth. He steps in close, his strong hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you gently but firmly against him. His breath is warm on your skin as he leans down, his lips softly grazing the sensitive area around your ear. 
"Want to do it, sweetie?" he murmurs, his voice husky, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his lips because he knows your answer already. “I missed you….”
“I missed you too, puddin’ pop.” You whispered back, a sly smile on your lips. Your eyes lustfully gazing back at him. “So so so much….”
“Just how much, sweetie?”
“A lot.” You whispered as your fingers trailed onto your thighs and a little bit lower. Choso was already sure what he’d find down there. He knows you too well. His little sweetie. “Help me, puddin’ pop. I need you.”
As soon as you give him the slightest confirmation, he effortlessly scoops you up, cradling you in his arms like you weigh nothing. His lips never leave your skin as he walks you towards the bedroom, each kiss a little more insistent, a little more needy. Between the kisses, he leans in close to your ear, whispering the dirtiest, most wicked things, his words making your skin tingle.
As Choso carries you, his lips trail down your neck, leaving a path of heat with every kiss. His grip tightens slightly around your waist, the tension building with each step toward the bedroom. The way he whispers into your ear, voice low and raspy, sends shivers through your entire body. His words are teasing, laced with promises that make your mind race, each one more wicked than the last.
He lays you down gently on the bed, his body hovering over yours, eyes dark with desire as he drinks in the sight of you. His hands roam your body, slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment, every inch of your skin. His kisses grow deeper, his whispers more urgent, as his desire for you becomes undeniable. 
"You're mine tonight, sweetie." he breathes, his voice thick with lust.
You smiled. “I always was, puddin’ pop.”
Choso’s lips crash against yours, the intensity building as his hands explore your body with purpose, claiming every inch of you. His touch is firm yet careful, as though he’s memorizing the way you react to each kiss, each graze of his fingertips. His words, laced with that rough edge, never stop. 
“I’ve been thinking about this all day, sweetie.” he mutters between kisses, his breath hot against your skin as he trails his lips back down to your neck. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”
He pins your wrists gently above your head, holding you in place, his eyes locking onto yours with a burning intensity. He leans down again, his lips brushing your ear as he growls softly, “I want to hear you say my name… over and over.”
His words send a rush of heat through your body as he lowers himself, every movement slow, teasing, deliberate, until the anticipation becomes almost unbearable. The room feels electric, the air between you charged with desire, as he continues to whisper the dirtiest, most enticing things.
Choso’s hands slide down your arms, his grip firm yet tender as he keeps you pinned beneath him. His breath is hot against your skin, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss before trailing back to your neck, down to your collarbone, teasing with every move. The way he takes his time with you, savoring each reaction, has you breathless.
"You're so perfect for me, sweetie." he whispers, his voice thick with lust and affection. "I love watching you like this."
His hands move lower, fingers tracing your sides, sending shivers down your spine as he leans in closer, his body pressing against yours. He kisses you deeply again, the kind of kiss that makes your head spin, before pulling back just enough to meet your eyes.
“I’m not stopping until you’re completely mine tonight, sweetie.” he growls softly, his words dripping with intensity. The way he says it sends a rush of anticipation through your entire body, making you ache for his touch even more. 
Without breaking eye contact, he lowers himself further, his kisses moving lower, trailing heat in their wake. Every touch, every word leaves you feeling completely consumed by him, the world around you fading away until it's just you and him, tangled together in this moment that feels both endless and electrifying.
Choso’s kisses become more intense, his pace deliberate yet teasing, as if he’s relishing the control he has over every inch of your body. His hands trace slow, burning paths along your skin, each touch igniting a fire inside you. He knows exactly how to make you melt beneath him, every movement calculated yet filled with raw passion. 
He leans back up, his eyes locking onto yours, dark with desire. "I love how you react to me, sweetie." he murmurs, voice dripping with a mix of dominance and affection. "The way your body responds... it drives me wild."
His fingers trail lightly across your chest before grabbing hold of your waist, pulling you even closer, his breath ragged with anticipation. His lips return to your ear, teeth gently grazing the sensitive skin as he whispers, "You're going to scream my name tonight."
The way he says it sends shockwaves through your body, the desire in his voice leaving you aching for more. His hands grip you tighter as he kisses you deeply, his passion consuming you entirely. Every whispered promise, every soft growl, every lingering touch leaves you yearning for more, completely lost in the moment, knowing he’s not letting up until you’re both completely spent.
"You’re mine, just mine." he growls, his voice low and possessive, making it clear that he’s going to fulfill every wicked promise he’s made tonight.
Choso’s lips crash against yours once more, each kiss more urgent and consuming, as if he’s claiming you entirely. His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding your body beneath his, the heat between you growing unbearable. The intensity in his eyes makes your breath catch, his gaze full of need, raw desire, and something deeper — a craving that goes beyond the physical.
He presses his body closer, his breath hot against your skin as he continues to whisper the dirtiest, most intimate words in your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “You don’t know how much I need you right now, god…..” he murmurs, his words laced with desperation and control.
His touch becomes rougher, more insistent, as he moves in rhythm with the tension building between you. Every kiss, every graze of his fingertips, pulls you deeper into the moment, making you forget everything else. It’s just you and him, the weight of his body pressing down on you, the way his voice rasps your name in between breaths, each sound sending a jolt of pleasure through you.
"Say my name, sweetie." he growls, his voice husky, lips hovering near your ear. "I want to hear it. I want to hear how much you need me."
“Cho, cho—” You choked in pleasure as he continued to find him satiating you with pleasure over and over. “Baby, p–puddin’ pop. Please. Oh—”
You feel yourself slipping, losing control as his words become more possessive, each touch pushing you closer to the edge. The room feels smaller, the air heavy with heat and desire as Choso claims you again and again, each time more intense than the last.
And just as you think you can’t take any more, he leans down, his lips brushing your skin as he whispers, “You’re mine. Only mine. Sweetie, you know that right?” His words linger in the air, echoing through the haze of pleasure that surrounds you both, sealing the night with a promise only the two of you can understand.
“I do, I do.” You moaned out in a frenzy. “Baby, my puddin’ pop, I do. O–only, uh…only yours!”
Choso’s pace quickens, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate, as if he’s on the verge of losing control himself. His grip tightens around your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer, the weight of his body grounding you while pushing you to the edge of sensation. His lips are everywhere—your neck, your collarbone, your lips—claiming you with every kiss, every touch. 
Your breaths come in ragged gasps as the tension builds between you, the heat reaching an unbearable peak. He groans softly, his voice thick with need as he whispers, "I’m right there with you... just let go for me." His words are a command and a plea all at once, and the sound of his voice is enough to push you to the brink.
With a final, shuddering thrust, the world around you seems to fall away, the pressure inside you finally releasing in a wave of pure ecstasy. Choso’s name tumbles from your lips, over and over, exactly the way he wanted. His own breath hitches as he follows you into that climax, a deep, guttural groan escaping his throat as his body tenses against yours, the pleasure overwhelming him too.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm and ragged against your skin as he rides out the last waves of pleasure, holding you tightly as if he never wants to let go. His fingers gently stroke your skin now, soft and soothing in contrast to the intense passion you just shared. 
For a moment, everything is quiet, just the sound of your mingled breathing filling the room, the intensity of the moment settling into a soft, shared intimacy. Choso presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice a low whisper as he says, “You’re everything I need, sweetie.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. epilogue
As the intensity fades and the world starts to come back into focus, Kamo Choso gently eases himself beside you, his arms never leaving your body. His expression softens, all the hunger and fire replaced with tenderness as he looks at you, his thumb brushing over your flushed cheek.
"You did so good, sweetie." he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His touch is slow, deliberate, as he strokes your hair, helping you come down from the high. He wraps the blanket around both of you, pulling you into his chest, his body warm and comforting against yours. 
He reaches for a water bottle on your bedside table, offering it to you with a small smile. "Drink up, hm?" he says gently, knowing how much you need it. After you take a sip, he tenderly kisses your temple, his fingers tracing soothing circles along your back. 
The atmosphere shifts into something soft and intimate, his hands carefully massaging your sore muscles, making sure you feel cared for. His voice is low, murmuring sweet reassurances, "I've got you… I’ll take care of you."
Once he's satisfied that you're comfortable, Choso shifts so you're nestled in his arms, your head resting on his chest. He stays close, his fingers gently stroking through your hair, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. There's a certain peace in the quiet moments after everything, and you feel completely safe with him, wrapped up in his warmth.
"You know I’m not going anywhere tonight, right?" he says softly, his voice laced with affection. He leans down to kiss the top of your head, his arms tightening around you protectively. "I’ll be here, all night, right next to you."
The two of you lie there, tangled in each other, as the night settles around you. The outside world doesn’t matter anymore—just the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the way he holds you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world.
As sleep starts to pull you in, Choso whispers, “I love you, sweetie.” his voice barely audible but filled with sincerity. And in that moment, everything feels perfect, knowing he’ll be right there when you wake up. Your beloved metalhead boyfriend.
21 notes · View notes
pokegyns · 2 days
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the way that baeddelism & antitransmasculinity permeates & slips through every corner of the trans community and nobody does anything about it because transfems are this Protected UwU Baby Girls™ is actually so sickening. i’m tired of seeing literal baeddels getting away with saying shit like “men are oppressive. but by men we do not mean just cis males we mean trans men too! they are also men!” like. “validating” my gender identity only to dehumanize me & throw “tme” at me in a demeaning manner is not progressive at all. i am not “privileged” for being transmasc & i am not violent or abusive or powerful or capable of systemically harming trans women. i am not simply oppressed on the basis of being trans, i am quite literally, quite factually oppressed for being a trans man– i am oppressed for being a person of the female sex, and doubly so for being a person of the female sex who misaligns with cisheteropatriarchal ideals & inherently goes against what the cisheteropatriarchy has set upon me. i was punished & shamed for being gnc during my childhood, for being gnc in the way that female people are gnc. i wasn’t seen as a feminine boy, i was seen as a masculine girl, and i lived the childhood of a masculine girl. i went through all the hardships cis girls did, and i also experienced a subset of misogyny that specifically targets masculine & gnc girls– antitransmasculinity. i was punished for not fitting in with the cishet norms, for being autistic & not understanding gender roles, for not liking boys, for being the “strange odd girl”…
when i learned what dysphoria was & began identifying as trans, i did not suddenly gain male privilege overnight. saying that transmascs are a category of marginalized men might seem like a harmless statement, but it is often used for erasure & furthering transmasc invisibility, violent invisibility. it might “gender us properly”, but saying we are a category of marginalized men often fails to fully encompass the factual reality that we aren’t seen as men. we aren’t marginalized just for being trans, we are marginalized for being female & for being transmasc. our oppression more aligns with the way that lesbians, especially gnc ones, are oppressed, than it does with the way that any other category of marginalized men are oppressed.
telling transmascs that we “need to make sure everyone else around us is comfortable” & that we “should pander to the women around us” literally reeks of this specific type of misogyny that targets us. the way that the trans community tends to treat us as “just queer men” & quite literally erase the fact that we are trans, is rooted in deep misunderstandings of lesbophobia, antitransmasculinity, misogyny & gncphobia. when we are punished for being gnc during our childhoods, we aren’t punished for wearing dresses & liking make-up– we are punished for not doing that. when we are punished for not being opposite-sex attracted (i know not all transmascs are same-sex attracted, it’s just that a lot of trans people in general do tend to be ssa), we aren’t punished for liking boys/men, we are punished for liking girls/women. in what world are regular men punished for liking women? in what world are regular men punished for not being feminine? antitransmasculinity in the trans community either malgenders us & paints us just as capable of perpetrating misogyny as cis men are (even when we aren’t even out, apparently it’s ingrained in us– does that smell of gender essentialism???), or it straight up attacks us on the basis of our observed sex without even trying to hide it– see “afab privilege”, “theyfab”, “tme” (not necessarily inherently bad, but the way in which it is used is bad), “trans guys need to be subservient & quiet”, literal fetish accounts made by transfems who openly misgender us & talk about “detransition kink”… it all goes back to the good ol’ “shut up and let the smart people speak”.
this is not the way that normie men, even normie marginalized men, are treated. the crowd that malgenders us & expects us to be okay with their little “kam includes trans men!”, “all men are bad! including trans men!”, “trans men’s gender identity harms trans women!” comments because they’re “affirming” us… no. shut up. i do not care about being “affirmed” if the way you are “affirming” me is dehumanizing. transmascs do not have the systemic power to oppress neither cis, nor trans women.
the baeddel belief system, that misogyny is born out of transmisogyny (& not the other way around, at the very least), is also so fucking wild and insane. transfems refusing to accept that they’ve generally been male socialized & that they were punished for being gnc in the way that they misaligned with the cisheteropatriarchal ideals for being seen as feminine boys & not for being seen as masculine girls is one thing– dysphoria can take a massive toll on your beliefs, and i get being uncomfortable with the whole gender socialization theory (although it is legitimate, even if some people do use it maliciously), but it is another thing to firmly claim you weren’t under any circumstance ever treated as a boy at one point (then are you denying transphobia exists?? what???), but at the same time, transmascs absolutely were socialized female & we have this nonexistent “afab privilege”, BUT we’re also evil men who hate & oppress women of all sorts. but god forbid we ever enter women’s spaces or connect with women in any way, especially not with lesbians. we have no right to those spaces, and we are “invading” women’s spaces even if we do not pass– but non-passing trans women who are literally hypermasc & would look like the average normie guy if people didn’t know their gender identity (i’m not talking about masc passing transfems, transfems def can both pass as women & be masc) are free to call themselves lesbians & enter women’s spaces, and we are evil and bigoted if we say that’s dumb as fuck. we cannot ever connect with lesbians or, i apologize for the heresy, do the vilest sin humanity has ever seen & even call ourselves lesbians. we are hurting lesbians! we are totally capable of harming cis lesbians, because we totally yield systemic power over them, even if we do not pass at all. the trans woman whose lesbianism is fully dependent on her inner identity is more free to enter lesbian spaces & her lesbianism is more valid than mine, a visibly gnc transmasc butch’s who-is-not-out-as-trans. the trans woman who didn’t even experience transmisogyny growing up & wasn’t ever even gnc at any point in her life, is somehow more valid to call herself a lesbian, than i, a person whose childhood was practically made of antitransmasculinity & lesbophobia, am.
baeddel ideology is inconsistent. they either use radfem talking points but flip them all the way around & turn them upside down, so trans men are now as evil and abusive as cis men & oppressive to both cis & trans women & the entire reality of us being assigned female is erased, or they straight up attack us based on the very fact that we are assigned female & treat us as if we are not Truly Trans. either way, we are never acknowledged as trans. the former sees us as “just guys” (but keep in mind that crowd never uplifts us & babies us in the way they do to cis men, so again we aren’t even really seen as guys), and the latter sees us as “stupid theyfab ftms tmes” “who aren’t really trans”. in simple words, the former sees us as cis guys undeserving of male privilege (but still claiming we somehow have it), and the latter sees us as cis girls undeserving of cis privilege. baeddelism was designed to harm transmascs, and while it can also do harm to cis women (with the whole misogyny part of it), it specifically harms transmascs & even just gnc cis women. it deeply hurts me when i realize that these sort of people are out there dating trans men & transmascs. some of them even actually do the next step & start with physical abuse. it makes me so incredibly sad. i will never shut up about antitransmasculinity, no matter what.
– mod zoroark
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poisoned-pearls · 3 days
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Random Nami Ashengrotto Notes
She gets her nails done regularly! Usually she either has short almond nails or long almond gel nails done, and her nails/length are natural! She’s obsessive abt taking care of her natural nails and making sure they stay long! (She digs them into peoples arms as an intimidation tactic)
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(Examples of her common styles^)
She never really quite felt comfortable calling herself queer before she was dating Enzi. She was grey aro/ace and had basically NEVER felt any attraction towards anyone, and when she did it was barely there and not worth pursuing. To her she felt like she didn’t deserve to call herself queer, bc she just, seemed to be some picky ‘straight’ girl. (She was in fact not straight and never really felt comfortable with that title, but had had a vague crush on a dude once and that was her only point of reference.) when she and Enzi started dating she urged her to be more accepting of not only being aro/ace spectrum, but allowing herself to call herself queer as well
She collects all of those little collectible blind bag stuff. Tokidoki mermicornos, pop mart lil guys, like he’ll probably sonny angels. Azul has called up some companies before to get chasers for her.
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^girl is a FIEND
Also she is a book like. Destroyer/hj. Girl annotates even if she hates a book uses sticky tabs and see through sticky notes sometimes and drags a book EVERYWHERE with her. Also they’re majority paperback. If she LIKES the book then she will buy a hardback nice version and leave it alone (it goes on the shelf that everyone sees in her office)
Taglist below
@ghostiidasponk @stormyscrapez @squishosaur @snowwhite0430 @inotonline
@mello-bee @thehollowwriter @meowbyul @lowcallyfruity @saneriddlefan67 
@driedupeyeballs @shadowy-skies @usurper-of-heavens
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eggcats · 3 months
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(separating this into its own post bc I need the validation of the radiostatic enjoyers)
Alastor absolutely believes that everyone else ALSO thinks that Vox is the most charming and attractive demon in hell, it's just an objective fact - just like how Vox is an annoying clout-chaser constantly trying to upgrade himself towards more and more validation
--
Like imagine, for whatever reason, Vox is at the hotel and he's bitching about Valentino, and Alastor is nearby because he doesn't like or trust Vox alone in HIS hotel.
Vox: And then the fucker said that he only sleeps with 10s AND Vox! That absolute bitch, how DARE he?! After everything we've built!
Alastor, confused: The distinction makes sense. I fail to see how THIS is the thing you take fault with, considering everything else lacking in the moth.
Vox, mortally offended that his rival-crush ALSO thinks he's ugly and trying to pretend he doesn't care about it: uh, FUCK YOU?!
Alastor, now both confused and offended: If he included you in the scale, no one else would rate a 10? Although I suppose it is true about what they say about television rotting the brain, if your offense is taken at a rare show of consideration and NOT the publicized and continuous cheating. Ha ha!
Vox is so caught off guard that his screen immediately glitches, and it's not until he does a full system reboot that he can even RESPOND to what Alastor just said.
Alastor is making fun of his flimsy technology when Vox comes to.
Angel is cracking up in the background, watching this entire thing go down.
Vox has no idea where to go from here.
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hildegardladyofbones · 2 months
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One of the best things about Disco Elysium by far is that it does not fear ugly women. The world is full of ugly men, but ugly women are so hard to come by.
#I'm not calling the characters ugly btw#i don't believe any one can be ugly#i do not care for beauty standards and thus i don't rank people based on how “ugly” or “pretty” they are#but the characters in DE do not meet the conventional beauty standards and look like actual people with unique faces#and thus would be considered “ugly”#and that is so important to me. i go feral whenever media represents how people look like in real life and not how they look like in the#fictional parallel universe where everyone is a model and where a majority of the movies take place#because irl you don't have to be a model to be desirable#the most attractive man in any video game I've ever played has a receding hairline and a big nose and thick glasses and a small chin#and not only is representing realistic people. just good. in general. but it makes the character of Dolores Dei stand out so much more which#works for the game so well. she's barely human. she's a deity- a myth- a legend. the only version that exists of her now is the one with#glowing lungs. she's perfectly beautiful because she's inhuman. the fact that everybody else looks so human only highlights how inhuman she#has become yk?#if everyone was as conventionally attractive as her then she wouldn't stand out. we wouldn't get why she's so special.#disco elysium#disco elysium analysis#media analysis#beauty standards#this is only one aspect of how this game portrays real people btw. as someone interested in character design this just immediately stood out#to me#the first time i noticed it was when i first met garte and the second time was when i met ruby because neither are conventionally desirable#oh my fucking god the nerds who complain about a woman with a model face having body hair in a video game would perish if they played this#mainstream game/movie studios catering to western masses could never
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youling-the-ghost · 21 days
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Gosh I love small fandoms where everyone is equally insane and everyone's just making references to the source material.
Like, I can go "y'all I just saw a badger, I sure hope he doesn't become King of England" and everyone will get what I'm talking about while people who aren't in the fandom are confused as shit.
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rottmnt-residuum · 1 year
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Any other LGBTQ+ Headcannons that are canon is the comic??;)
*patiently awaits Cupioromantic Donnie*
hmm... had to think about this for a while and talk about it with co-author, but here's what we got. we mostly base this stuff on how plausible it is in show/if there's evidence for it. with a dash of personal experience. This only applies to residuum, btw. I have different personal headcanons for these characters outside the comic.
april: lesbian. this is mostly based off of the fact that most aprils get with their caseys & the comment she said to dale. which could be taken as disinterest in dale specifically, but she seemed more concerned with impressing that popular girl earlier and that reads as more... saphic, i suppose. or at the very least homoromantic.
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raph: raph is just raph. we look at him and basically just *tv static*. go crazy. all we got is jokes or stuff that has too little evidence to support. so, yeah, he's whatever you want him to be i guess?
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leo: trans. already said my reason in the other post. also, gay. if gay were a power source he could power the entirety of the united states for five months straight without a single power outage. failing power grid notwithstanding (< thats the actual word. its supposed to be mushed together like that. wack.).
donnie: as much as i'd like him to be ace/aro spectrum rep, he just doesn't have the evidence in show for us to apply it to him in this comic. it's funny, for being hc as ace so often he sure is the most outwardly romantic/sexual turtle in the show lmao. one! cherry: "you're so cute, but you're so mean! why do i always go for your type?" two! astrogirl?? (whatever her name is) he is very very romantic with her. he has a type y'all. also just look at those two, he's a leg man lmao (bootyyshaker9000 anyone? ha!) anyway. and with the bromance/instant chemistry he had with that one guy in the purple dragons... Pan. or possibly Omni as he does seem to favor... cute brutal femme... Yeah. Omnisexual.
(you have no idea how fucking bad i want this boy to be ace spectrum. hes got the colors y'all!! The Colors!!!!! but alas... i am bound by my canon plausibility creed for this comic)
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mikey: ace. possibly ace/aro. he shows interest in literally no-one. we're aware that the common hc is pan but... we know a pan 13 year old, and let me tell you ahahahaha, kids going through puberty are very uncomfortable to be around sometimes, especially around their partners. or crushes. and mikey... well, that boy is ace behavior personified lmao. aces in the back you get what we mean right?? right??? anyway commiting to aroace
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#residual asks#rottmnt#i really get a kick out of he/him butch lesbian raph and ghostbear-sexual raph#but i'd never use those seriously. or at least in this comic#co-author says what they get if they really had to choose for raph is ace homoromantic#but otherwise...#he's just raph#like we can't apply any identity to him. and we really mean ANY identity. not even straight or umbrella terms like queer#its a very odd feeling#i also really like trans april but we don't have enough evidence for it#in fact there's actually counter evidence- but don't let that stop your dreams y'all. it just stops ours :P#sorry for stepping on your donnie dreams anon#but honestly i think that label applies more to 2012 donnie imo#i really do personally prefer ace/aro donnie. but i'd make everyone ace if i were able lmao#co-author would also do the same thing ahaah#i just don't like depicting romantic relationships. or attraction ahahaah#with mikey... we get why people hc him as pan... but like its a fandomism stereotype#that literally every fandom applies to optimistic friendly characters. and honestly i really don't like the fandomism stereotypes#i just find them... unenjoyable i guess#cuz like y'alll... your sexuality isn't inherently determined by your personality or vise versa#cuz like i know for sure that in fandom spaces- if i were a character- i'd be stereotyped as pan or a hypersexual cis het#to which i am neither. at all.#and co-author would be stereotyped as the demure femme book lesbian#which they are VERY much not#and i know this because i've been fandomified by people in my life more than once#it is a very uncomfortable experience y'all#whoops rant in the tags#residuum#rottmnt residuum#residuum wb
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