#I like how their different aesthetics clash

[maligned-kitty]

I want to put Buggy in a box and shake him around

[cathalbravecog]

scenecore misty back at it again!! + a speedpaint! :D

it wasn't meant to be a youtube link, but uploading the video file itself won't work, so apologies about that i know youtube links are annoying on tumblr please don't kill me </3

[rubys-domain]

is it just me or... are the reputation rewards for fontaine underwhelming as hell?

[dimepdf]

★  𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄. + 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. no matter how many times you try to convince yourself that Miguel is the bane of your existence, the way you react during training proves otherwise.

─── ☆ notes. i need fics of miguel being an absolute dick, like a petty bitch just for the hell of it i need more attitude yk? Like if that man isn't calling me a slut it ain't canon! | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ length. 4.3k (33 min read).

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | no spoilers | smut, enemies to lovers, maybe mutual pining, fighting and violence, semi public sex, gym sex, mentions of abuse, size difference, pain kink, strength kink, degradation kink, manhandling, power play(?), begging, rough sex, cervix kissing, choking, fangs, biting, marking, cunnilingus, eye contact, hair pulling, creampie, open ended, not an taiyo fic without a few typos.

IF YOU ASKED any of the other Spider-men what they loved so much about being Spider-Man, their answers would all be the same, ranging from "the suit" to "the enhanced abilities." It was a no-brainer that being a superhero came with a few awesome perks.

Which was why your answer was just a bit confusing, "the combat." You would always smile, despite the many eyebrows raises and looks that convinced you you had to be some type of overcover masochist, especially since you would never really go into true detail about why.

Your reasoning behind putting on the mask was similar to all the others: another traumatized kid being thrown into a whole new reality that you never would have dreamed of being possible.

Sadly, you had been raised with the loss of most of your loved ones, and your family was in shambles from the abuse you would go through from them. It was the reason why it was difficult for you to grow up and make many friends, let alone navigate your abilities on your own accord, which was why it was a whole different ball game when you first joined the spider society.

When you first met Miguel O'Hara, you thought he was an overly intimidating man with an even more scary personality. Your aesthetics and morals would clash in the first few run-ins you would have with him.

In all honesty, you first thought him to be a massive dick who surprisingly needed more therapy than you did. From his bored expression to his unnerving glare, it was clear upon the first introduction that you two just would not get along.

Which was why the universe made him the only spider person willing and with enough free time to train you. It came as a surprise to you both, who are usually butting heads. Miguel was adamant about not wanting to waste his time training some little girl who didn't even know how to throw a punch.

With much shit-talking on your part and a lot of teasing claims of him being afraid that you were going to kick your ass, training had quite literally started in full swing.

It was probably a bad move on your part to push the buttons of the guy who was teaching you how to fight. Miguel was clear with his fight-style techniques. He was nimble with his limbs and swift on his feet. It was hard for anyone to get a hit on him, especially since he wasn't the type to hold back his punches. 

His teaching style was the same: your sessions included throwing you around as if you were some ragdoll and picking you up as if you weighed nothing, just to slam you into the ground with full bruising force.

There would be some very rare occasions when you would manage to get the upper hand on him. Miguel was about a foot taller than you, not to mention how pathetically compressed you looked standing next to him. You learned that the only way you could manage to get the upper hand was by using your size difference to your advantage.

All the sessions you won were hosted by you managing to tangle yourself from his claws and climb his towering figure into a headlock, praying that you had enough strength in your legs to make him tap out.

"How is she not dead yet?" Miles would mutter, looking concerned, as he stood from the sidelines of the training room, watching one of your sessions, as the blonde by his side didn't even wince at the sound of Miguel untangling you from the headlock you had him in.

His arms moved faster than you could process as he managed to loosen your hold enough to slam the air from your lungs as you fell back facing against the mat so hard that even Miles was convinced he could feel the blow in the lower spine.

"I mean, at this point, I'm kind of convinced she’s turned into his personal punching bag." Miles strains to watch Miguel not even wipe a sweat as he sprung back on his feet. He stretched out his full body, towering over you, curled flat against the mat, trying to collect your breathing as well as your broken ego.

Gwen nodded in agreement. "I don't even know how someone could hit someone so...squishy? She’s just so cute." She muttered, watching with her arms crossed. 

"This punching bag needs to learn that in the real world, people aren't going to go as easy on her just because she’s cute." Miguel, despite glaring at the two bystanders, leaned down and yanked you back onto your stumbling feet. 

Your fingers combed through the matted curls now drenched in sweat away from your forehead, using your water break as the perfect excuse to help cover up the reaction to the sudden compliment that came from his lips and the way he had made you feel.

"And her being my personal punching bag is completely at her fault, if you want to learn how to fight, you have to learn how to take a few punches." You couldn't help but roll your eyes and wave your hand out in annoyance at another one of Miguel O’Hara’s famous lectures.

"I’m not a punching bag, did you not see the hold I had on him early?" You huffed, almost choking on your water, trying to protest. Gwen humored your claim, the blonde reaching out and rubbing your shoulder out of support as you continued with your defense. "Any tighter, and I would have easily snapped his neck."

Of course, Miguel only smirked as you continued grasping at straws at the point of trying to prove to your friends your improvement, his eyes flitting back and forth at the exchange, expressionless at the sight of you managing to still joke around as if you weren't about to pass out from fatigue at any second.

"And was that before or after the part where I kicked your ass, little girl?" He shot out, chipping away at the final lock that held back your annoyance, you hadn't even had time to process the insult before he bumped his shoulder into you on his way out of the training room.

His rude exit enticed a round of reactions from Miles and Gwen trying their awkward best to comfort the boiling pot of anger they saw written all over your face, rolling your eyes, you pushed past the two, not without grumbling a string of insults in Miguel’s name to the washrooms.

You blessed the spider lords for somehow having the ability to shower under running water, let alone the unexplainable strange amount of amenities that the spider society dimensions had. 

Like a web shooter's wonderland, you quickly shed the sweating clothes you trained in and stepped foot into the cold cubicle shower booth, letting the water run for a bit until enough steam fogged clouded stepping under the stream. Even with the hot water splashing pressure against your aching muscles, no amount of water could manage to wash away the annoying feeling in your legs. 

It was enough of a jab at your pride to even find Miguel attractive in the first place, and here your body was betraying you once more, begging, throbbing desperately for his every touch in its every form, and having the nerve to grow more intense during your training.

The feeling had yet to fully disappear the next day, even with your session starting off with you fueled from yesterday's comments. You tried pushing the feeling as you were just ready to have Miguel mutter another word insult with the ass kick you were ready to give him. It was the only possible explanation for why you were so jittery about getting to training on time.

"It took you long enough." Was the first thing you heard Miguel announce throughout the empty room.

He wasn’t wearing his suit—neither of you did while training—instead, he was wearing dark gray sweatpants paired with some random dark red graphic shirt that fit him a bit too snuggly to leave room for imagination around his arms.

"Almost thought you were gonna skip out."

You were aware enough to spot this quick observation of your outfit as well. Keeping it casual and opting for better mobility, you shimmied yourself into plain Nike shorts that stopped higher up than you had expected them to on your thighs with a loose tank top that peeked out the straps of your sports bra.

Nothing about your clothes screamed attention grabbing—at least that's what you thought before you caught Miguel’s red-tinted stare on the way your shorts hugged your thighs.

He glanced away, muttering something in Spanish you couldn't quite translate the moment your fingers fidgeted with the bottom hems of the shorts, tugging them slightly more down while deciding to break the tense silence that had managed to sneak up on you. "So what are we doing today?"

"Huh, I’ve been thinking." He answered, followed by the clearing of his throat, "We try something a little different." You could never get used to the roughness of his voice or the way he spoke with so much arrogance that it reminded just about everyone that he thought he was better than just about everyone.

Even now that you stepped towards the middle of the mat, standing rigidly just a few paces away from him, you could tell from that stupid, cocky expression as he stood looking down at you that there was no possible way that he would ever see you as a real threat. "I want you to try to hit me." 

Your brows creased together in confusion. 

"What?" was all you asked, which seemed to be the wrong question to ask as Miguel stretched out a sigh from his mouth, his hands coming close to his to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

"I said hit me." He speaks more slowly, making sure to mockingly over pronounce every symbol in every word as if you were a child. "Preferably soon and as hard as you can." A grimace finds itself twisting on your lips before you can even process your bubbling annoyance. Your body moved on autopilot because of your keen senses, jumping over the swing of his left leg with ease.

You couldn't say that swift grace stuck with your attempt at a counterattack. Bending your knee just enough to reach out and kick, you were only met with the bottom of your foot stomping flat against the floor mat and Miguel dodging your kick, standing just a few paces away. "Too predictable," he scolded in that annoyingly deep voice you hated oh so much and totally did not turn on you at all. You sprung yourself up by the heels of your feet and charged at him with full determination to land at least one punch on his stupidly chiseled, handsome face.

It had been your second mistake, giving him too much time to brace himself. Already regretting your emotionally impulsive start, resulting in the punch you swung being easily deflected by Miguel.

His hand wrapped entirely around your wrist, bending your arm almost out of your socket and kicking the back of your knee to the mat with his heel. You feel down to a kneel with a hissing pain in your arm threatening to get worse at any wrong twist.

"Lose that fucking attitude, or you’ll get sloppy." As if your body could radiate any more anger, you knew he was just trying to push your buttons, trying to throw you off your game with smack talk that was not working on you or anything.

"Again," he prompted, letting your arm go and stepping back, egging on another attack from you.

"Give me a damn minute." No matter how much you wanted to snap back at him with something snarky, you knew it would only prove his point entirely—not only that but also the fact that he was mentally hitting you in all the places that he knew counted the most to throw you off your game. 

Biting back the insult you already had threatened to slip from your tongue instead of making a point by rolling your eyes as you stumbled back to your feet. Rolling your sore shoulder back as your eyes scan over his stance, trying to find the best opening for a better attack, you steady your breath and cloud your mind in thought. "You aren't going to get anywhere but dead standing around like that, you know."

So much for wanting to consider your options. Miguel took the first swing at you and was on the verge of kicking you on your ass if it weren't for your shoddy dodge.

"Didn't you just say I had to be less fucking predictable?" You snarled, lifting your foot with most of your weight pointed in the direction of his jaw. Surprisingly, the kick landed just not in the place you wanted it to; instead, Miguel’s arm blocked the blow, much to your annoyance.

"I also said—" All he was doing was using dodging moves on you, swiping your other foot from under you as he held the other one that you kicked up in his arm, resulting in you landing once again flat on your ass. "to lose that fucking attitude."

You had not gone down without a fight, twisting and kicking, trying to wrestle your limbs free by any means. Miguel had almost embarrassingly quickly ceased your squirming, his palm cuffing your arms and pressing hard against your chest as his other hand pressed tightly into your thighs, folding your legs in place under his hips.

The position was interesting, to say the least, but you still had some fight in you, wiggling against his grip with any strength you had left to break free. It was a useless battle, but the man had his grip around you tight as well as an overpowering size difference that blanketed your entire figure like one big rock.

And that's how you caught yourself in another web of misfortune. Your nerves are surging at the feeling of something—him brushing against your calf. Maybe it was all the adrenaline pumping through your veins or the fact that you were practically being manhandled so easily that did another thing to your body, or maybe it was just pure horny instability that your brain couldn't even process the lewd whine that tugged from your throat after the fact that it had happened.

Watching in pure horror as Miguel loomed on top of you, his mouth slightly agape as his chest heaved and his brows pulled together, the embarrassment from his confused, almost offended looking expression hit you fast. Here your body was betraying you once more, this time going absolutely haywire and melting like a stupid pile of putty at the fact that you were being body pressed against some mat with some guy's hard junk pressed into your leg.

You couldn't bear to even look him in the eye anymore, your head tilting to the side, pressing your cheek into the mat, and squeezing your eyes closed, not suddenly envying the spidermen with teleportation powers. "Fucking Christ, can you get off now?"

A beat of silence hovered between the small distance between you two, neither moving nor talking. It was starting to become unbearable how tightly Miguel had folded your legs against him, in the sense that you could already feel his body heat radiating. The close proximity did not help with how unbearably your heart was beating against your chest. "How do you manage after all of that to still have that shameless fucking attitude?"

You stilled at how his voice had managed to cut through your own thick cloud of betraying thoughts as well as the ringing in your eardrums. "Shameless? As if you don't have your dick pressed against me right now."

"By the sounds of it, you don't seem that bothered at all." Miguel taunted, You thought you were bound to die of embarrassment.

Yeah, this is how you went out—by dying from the sheer effect of your own extremely horny though—not some overpowered supervillain with a vendetta against you but Miguel O'Hara and his dick print.

You could already hear the new taunts that he would use against you, "Not even in your fucking dreams." being the only comeback that you could muster, your limbs tingling with slight pins and needles, threatening to go stiff under his unbound grasp. 

"Oh, like you wouldn't love to," he sneered, shifting the weight from his hips flat against your thighs. "Probably thinking about me taking off these tight fucking shorts and having my way with you?" Your body reacted first to the accusation, cursing under your breath as you felt your second heartbeat flutter in between your legs.

His lingering stare hadn't helped one bit, and you watched from the sidelines as his eyes raked over your body with interest.

"I bet this was your plan the entire fucking time, huh?" He asked, leaning in as the distance dwindled until you could feel the brush of his breath against your face. "Put on some sweet naive act in front of everyone, knowing that you're getting yourself off on me throwing you around, touching yourself like some bitch in heat."

You hadn't bothered covering the whine that parted from your lips at the feeling of his erection slowly rutting against your thigh, the cocky smirk on his lips wanting you to melt away against the mat.

Miguel practically growled at the pathetic sounds that parted from your lips, tugging your legs apart to rut his hips down against your core. You shivered at the intrusion of his bulge pressed against your eagerness, the foreign feeling of him grinding against you left your thoughts in a dizzy fog.

"What? Can’t fucking speak now," he said as if he were dangling your most prized possession in front of your face, his fingers creeping into dangerous territory, making it a point for his fingertips to drag down your lower torso only to halt right above the elastic waistband of your shorts. "Go on, use your words."

"...fuck you."

The small amount of distance made the space between you two fall tensely thick, and the words spoken from your lips were different from the feelings that made your heart thud against your ribs. You weren't stupid, you knew Miguel could sense it, he could sense just about everything about your body from how close he kneeled on top of you.

Maybe that was why he had closed the distance so quickly after, letting the tight grip around your wrists give way to his hand finding a new objective, wrapping his fingers around your neck, not bothering to be gentle as he guided your lips towards his. The kiss was as rough as you had dreamed it to be. Eager for each other's kiss, you couldn't even process the noise that vibrated sharply from your throat before Miguel could pull away first, leaving you panting for more of his touch.

"First time I've ever seen you so quiet," his deep taunts were starting to grow unbearable, shifting your hips at the brush of his fangs against the jugular of your neck with every word, "who knew all you needed was some dick?" The harsh kisses he left trailing down to your collarbone made you feel like a hot, needy mess of putty. If it weren't for the tight grasp he had on your body, you were convinced that you would feel like you'd melt into some type of puddle. The growing frustration had only started to build up more as Miguel let go of your thighs, his hand trailing between your legs ruthlessly as the bud of his fingers rubbed against your clothed pussy. 

As for why you shifted your hips up and let him impatiently tug and yank at the bow knotted around the waist of your shorts, breaking away from the red splotching light bruises already forming against your brown skin and wiggling you out of your shorts, Miguel thought it was quite the image, his eyes were fixated on the drooling sight of you under him, so vulnerable with your thighs hugging to your chest, spread open, revealing yourself in your pants.

All sanity was thrown out the window the moment he tugged you closer by your knees, your lower half lifted in his arms just enough for him to sit face to face with your cunt. His eyes darkened, his pupils blown as his tongue lapped over his lips, leaving you feeling restless. It was a slow and almost painful battle of trying to reach down and shove his face closer or buck your hips as his fingers sheathed and explored themselves against the fabric of your underwear.

As if Miguel could read your mind, his fingers hooked the fabric under the bend of his finger, followed by a quick tearing sound. "I’ll get you new ones," the comfort emitting a whine from your throat as you couldn't even scowl at him for ruining your underwear because you were too busy admiring the work his fingers were doing. Without warning, Miguel leans in closer, the warmth of his mouth almost sending you into a frenzy as his fingers spread open your lips, his lips sucking at your clitoral area, prompting you to let out a very lewd moan.

"Too loud," Miguel mumbled against your pussy, too busy webbed up in your own pleasure to even notice how every embarrassedly sloppy wet noise had seemed to perfectly echo throughout the empty room. You couldn't even explain the number of emotions that were flowing through you, from shame from being tongue fucked and fingered against the floor about the one man you hated so much to bashfulness from holding eye contact with him as he lay between your legs and ate your pussy like he was starving for you.

"I can't help it," you whined, shivering at the string of spit that contacted Miguel as he lifted his head in an idea. It took a second to process Miguel picking you up and turning you on your stomach, his hands guiding your hips up and stripping your torn panties down your legs to stuff them in your mouth.

Without a word, Miguel grabbed your ass with another hand, guiding your lower back into an arch as the other made small indents from his nail bearing into your cheeks as he spread them apart.

Before you could even feel embarrassed at the new position, he shoved his face between them, your moan being muffled by your makeshift cloth gag that worked a bit too well in lowering your whines as Miguel’s mouth sought his tongue out for your pussy once more.

"You're close I can smell it," you almost missed Miguel's groan over your building ecstasy, "just let it go, baby, let me take care of you. That's what you want, right?" His voice is drastically different from his usual rough, rude tone, softened to something of a coo that has managed to unknot your pleasure with his tongue. Your body tensed against his mouth for a moment as he had the nerve to suck his fingers clean. No grace period was given before he could lift you once more with a grunt, laying you flat on your back.

Slotting himself back between his legs, Miguel chuckled at the dazed look on your face. "It's alright, baby, I can take it from here." taking the balled up drool covered panties from your mouth and instead replaced them with his lips. The sensual change of pace wasn't enough to stop the shiver that rid your nerves of the feeling of his bare cock rutting against your slit, using his thumb to spread your lips apart to sink his tip inside of you with a low hiss against your mouth.

A gasp left yours as his girthy length intruded deeper inside of you, the burying stretch of his dick having your nails roughly grasping at the nape neck of his hair tugging a handful as his pace hadn't bothered to even get familiar already. Miguel’s hips weren't letting out as he fucked you almost animalistic against the floor. You were convinced he was trying to fuck you into the mat, to be one with the floor, which would perfectly explain the rough pace that left you breathless with each piston of his hips. 

The graphically lewd sounds of your weak groans were nothing compared to the pornographic sound of your skin meeting his, your brain empty with nothing but greed, wanting to take everything and more of what Miguel was giving you. His fingers reach to unwrap your fingers tangled in his hair to intertwine them in his. "That's it, mama, that's it," he whispers against the shell of your ear, earning a whimpering reply from you, almost close to spilling the tears clouding your waterline.

Your mind couldn't process anything other than how good Miguel’s dick felt being shoved inside of you, his cock dragging against your tight, flustering walls with each shaky breath brushed against your ear. Your cunt seemed to react to Miguel’s lashes tickling against your neck as his eyes screwed tightly shut, muttering a string of compliments in his mother tongue.

You weren't lucky enough to be more stable, surprised that your throat hasn't gone horse with how ruined your vocal cords sounded in the pace of his pistoning hips. Only going up an octave higher as one of Miguel’s hands reaches down to pay attention to your clit, he doesn't stop even when your limbs start to tremble from your climax. 

With one last hard thrust, he finally stills, your name being the only thing you could make out through his mumbling as his unfamiliar warm sensation welcomed itself inside of you. 

Groaning right in your ear, he cums inside of you with his entire dead weight pressed against you, caging you against the floor. "Alright," Miguel sighs, settling on top of you once more with his arms holding himself just a few inches away from your face. "Again."

🔖 @adonis-is-dead-lmaoo @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @inumakiiz @iheartlinds @creamyarishi @marzipaanz

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[voxisdaddy]

İ have a request, how would hazbin hotel and angels (or archangels) reacts to a coqquette girl demon?

İf you dont know what iş coquette is, here some ideas

Coquette Sins

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairings: Alastor | Lucifer | Husk | Angel Dust | Sir Pentious | Charlie | Vaggie | Cherri Bomb | Rosie | Carmilla | Vox | Valentino | Velvette | Adam | Lute | Emily | Saint Peter | Striker

C/TW: Sexual themes, swearing, some way longer than others, a lot of these are based off appearance sorry, made reader a sinner rather than demon since demon is very vague in the hellaverse lol, not proofread

In which how various Hazbin Hotel characters + Striker react to a demon who brings a fresh aesthetic to hell-aka, a coquette sinner!

Alastor

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I can't say you'd be very intriguing to Alastor based off this aesthetic if I'm completely honest. He frequents Cannibal Town a lot-which while not coquette at all-the colour palette are closely similar and blends in together. Your look being more romantic and innocent looking in comparison however at a longer glance. So you wouldn't per say stand out at first glance, but even when he notices he isn't exactly intrigues. Hell is filled with many people who can look however they want, whatever way they want after all. So at first you're just another one of these poor sinners in this forever inferno. Somehow once you do get to know one another though, he picks up on certain mannerisms and certain things you like. One of the first being when he saw a little plushie you had purchased one day, now decorated with a neat little bow that matches with pretty much everything of you. From then on, he's sure that when he gifts you things, to keep an eye out for more specific things. It clashes with his aesthetic, but it's okay. Slowly he'll start to change your wardrobe to match his.

Lucifer

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lucifer doesn't think very highly of sinners, typical for the sin of Pride, but you're something new to him. He's well aware that human souls come in many different forms and that anyone can present themselves anyway they want, but coquette was a rare one. Anyone who resembled innocence, sweet romantics, and softness was often the target of bullying and harassment in hell-which serves him all the more reason to roll his eyes and dismiss a lot of sinners. Meeting you was a blessing in his eyes. Regardless of whatever judgements you may face you seemed to never stray away from who you are. He's become protective of you because of this. I mean he's protective of you regardless, you're very special to him after all, but you're basically a walking target for unnecessary bullying. Whenever he gifts you rubber duckies and carving of ducklings, he makes sure they are painted and decorated to fit in with your room. Because of your aesthetic by the way, you can match for date nights-which he loves very much!

Husk

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Husk wouldn't find you that intriguing either. He's been in hell for a very long time, seen lots of folk looking very different from one another. Nothing new. I think the longer he knows you though, the more he starts to question things. Nothing bad per say. It's more so because he starts to grow a crush on you and just now finds you more interesting. He'd definitely gift you things that match with your whole look. Especially plushies because come on, who doesn't like a good plushie.

Angel Dust

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Loves your look and aesthetic. It's like you're a different version of him-visually at least. You almost go hand in hand together in a sense. I can imagine two different first impressions of you based on appearance and just getting to know your personality on a very base level. One; he thinks you're one of Charlie's goody two shoes who don't know how to have fun but know how to ruin the fun of others. And two; if you're a dude here, someone he can have fun flirting with because don't you look like an inexperienced doll faced angel~

Sir Pentious

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I think your contracting aesthetics is lowkey a recipe for a cute af looking couple not gonna lie. Sir Pentious would probably be very adoring of you. Don't you look so darling! I feel like out of the main cast, he's been in hell the longest and has definitley seen your type of look before-especially when he was alive. You kind of remind him of those porcelain dolls that would be on the front of store windows. It's probably the leading factor as to why he adores you and treats you as if you're made of porcelain. Even if you're a baddie, yoiu're his baddie-who's also his sweetheart darling.

Charlie

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Charlie loves your aesthetic and how you carry yourself. It feels like such a breath of fresh air in this hellscape she calls home. She's definitely the type to ask what your hobbies are and if she can tag along to whatever it is. Now she'd never change herself to please anyone ever but she would likely, just for fun, dress up and match with you sometimes. Oh but please return the favour every once and awhile! It would make her so happy!

Vaggie

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vaggie as we know is from Heaven, so your type of look isn't new to her per say but it in a sense it does surprise her. This is hell, most people are usually clad in reds, pinks, and black. So your more, dare I say angelic, appearance is a mild surprise to her. She quickly gets over it though ass even in heaven the angels all didn't look like angels sometimes. Sure theirs halos and the feathery wings, but some peoples appearance mirrored some of the folk in hell. Vaggies own appearance and aesthetic clashing with heaven back in her angel days too. So she gets over her initial surprise. You're almost...nostalgic to her in a sense. She's definitely soft with you.

Cherri Bomb

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You're both like polar opposites honestly. She at first has her reservations on you. Based on appearance and personality actually. She understands that this is hell and that everyone can look however they want and some just fall looking a certain way. However this hoe likes to fight, thrives in the night life, high party girl energy, and being that bitch. So you'd naturally clash but after some time, especially in a relationship with you, she wouldn't wish for you to change yourself at all. As even Cherri Bomb needs some relaxing down time every now and then. So going to you and your relaxing and romantic sweet nature is almost spa like to her.

Rosie

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Like Alastor, you wouldn't stick out much to her at first glance because she sees people like you in Cannibal Towne at like every turn. She's wise though, she knows theirs a lot more to you and that you even find a way to stick our visually-intentionally or not. Your romantic look is just darling to her! She has to meet you! And once you do, to say this woman is smitten is an understatement. During a gossip session with Alastor, she definitely mentions you. You're the pearl of her eye. Even as your bond deepens, her smitten ways with you don't fade one bit. Probably has a few garments specifically catered to you with her own Rosie taste. She loves to match, so she'll hope you'll agree to meet her in the middle somewhere.

Carmilla

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ She likes to think you're a romanticized version of her. You're...not exactly that but it's close enough. You're a breath of fresh air for her honestly. Being an overlord and especially of her status, she tends to get migraines a lot. So seeing you and your more romantic soft look is already easing her a bit. She'd love to dance with you sometimes honestly. A nice slow dance with fun twirls, perhaps a music box or old record player even, as you unwind together sweetly. If it's alright with you, she'd love to fashion you with some angelic ballerina inspired shoes. Matching is cliche to her, but I headcanon she's lowkey a sucker for that stuff. Plus, it would be great for you to protect yourself with if worse comes to worse.

Vox

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You're an interesting one to him-especially since no one looks like you on his side of the Pentagram City. It excites him in a certain way-now get your head out of the gutter. It's a power thing. You look quite easy to manipulate, frail, weak, obedient-you could be a mindless doll. Getting you under contract would be easy, he tells himself. Of course, falling for you is the last thing he thought would come from this. But when that happens, you're no longer some doll he thinks he can control into being another one of his little workers. He can easily find out what type of music you listen to, what you like to do, furniture you may like, little shop items you always keep an eye out for, ect., He loves coming back home to you, or even when you visit him in his office. He's a stressed out guy with a lot on his plate. You're more soothing to him than you think.

Valentino

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Valentino being Valentino thought you were quite the delectable thing. It's as if you're begging to be ruined, honestly. He's of course quick to try to coerce you into at the very least having sex with him. He's charming, he knows how to use that and be sweet into getting people to trust him. Say you guys are in a romantic relationship though. You somehow managed to take this monsters heart, he's surprisingly not as rough with you vs if you were some one and done bitch he had instead. You look like too much of an angel for him to wanna break so soon. He's still rough and loves it when its rough, but I mean, what do you expect? It's Valentino. He definitely gets you lingerie that match your look. Loves either seeing you wringle in it beneath him or degrading him while you're on top. Believe it or not it's not all about sex with this guy though when it comes to you. When he's in one of his tantrum moods, you're like his own personal angel to give him a hug til he calms down enough to go do something else more level headed.

Velvette

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ She admires your dedication to your aesthetic, but I can't say she likes it very much. It's cute and with the correct look it can look quite fashionable, but she of course has her own standards and strong preferences. I can imagine that when you move in together, she has a love hate relationship with your guys shared massive walk in closet. One half screams Velvette, and the other half screams you. It's satisfying to see the difference in aesthetics, but also annoying because of the obvious clash. She puts up with it though. It's not all bad, seeing as sometimes you two trade outfits. Not often cuz again this woman is very of her own preferences and makes the effort to maintain her aesthetic as often as possible. It does happen though, as sometimes something from your closet catches her eye and she'll either borrow it or design something inspired based off it.

Adam

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Adam first saw you when you went to visit Heaven with Charlie and Vaggie. He at first didn't even know you were with them. You looked like you belonged in Heaven, he had thought you were an angel tagging along with their running around with Emily. He didn't immediately catch onto the lack of halo and feathered wings but that's besides the point. He actually probably went to bother you several hours before the trial. He didn't like any of the sinner souls or demons, but damn it-why do hell get a lot of the hot bitches? I mean yeah everyone in heaven is hot, but maybe he just has a thing for demon bitches, he doesn't know. Plus, it would probably be a good time to grill you and maybe tease you. What? Are you a wannabe angel? Is that why you look like that and came to argue for that hotel?

Lute

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lute does not give a fuck because hello~you're a sinner. She first noticed you during an extermination. She had thought you were an angel actually, because of how you looked. She was initially startled and angry because why the hell would of the extermination angels just be out of uniform in a time like this? But she was very quick to catch onto the fact that you are not one of them so she moved to kill you. Ah but little miss angel wannabe, her words, is more vigilant than she thought. You don't get killed this extermination so when the angels are called back to return to Heaven, she glances back at the last place she saw you run into for shelter. She smirks to herself; you got lucky this year, angel wannabe. She almost wishes you see you again next year.

Emily

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Emily would notice you with this Angel Dust character when they viewed Angel's night out during the trial in Heaven. You seemed to be friends with this group. Even though the focus wasn't on you, she found herself hoping to see you appear through the heavenly lens more frequently. You looked so adorable! Internally she nicknamed you Hell's Angel. She must remain professional and focus on the trial at hand though, which she very much does. She still wishes to get one more glimpse of you once the move on from viewing Angel Dust's night out though. Even when the trial ends, after she deals with the harsh reality she didn't now about, she hopes that Charlie's dreams come true for a chance to properly meet you in Heaven.

Saint Peter

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This angel met you when you came up to the gates with Lucifer's daughter and her friend. When he realized who Charlie is and where this trio just came from, a part of himself silently wondered about you. You looked so...heavenly. You're really only visiting from Hell? Ha ha m-maybe theirs been some sort of mistake. You look like you belong up in heaven. Oh well. Eventually he get's to actually talk with you of course. It's not long but it's something. He almost feels foolish for thinking Hell wouldn't have sinners and demons who have certain aesthetics and preferences. Heaven has those things, why wouldn't hell have it? Maybe hell isn't the shitty eternal hellfire he and many other winners believed it out to be. I like to think that Peter when he's not wearing his robes, has a pastel filled wardrobe. Real soft boy energy. So if you ever get redeemed or can somehow be together, bc this man was whipped almost immediately, you'd match pretty well together.

BONUS!!

Striker

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You intrigued Striker a little bit at first glance. With a raised brow he watched as you smiled sweetly at him and waved before continuing on your way. He doesn't like interacting with the sinners much but he knows enough about them that you being you makes you a target for bullying and harassment. He naturally keeps his distance regardless and doesn't think of you again until he actually sees you again. By the time you end up dating, many compromises need to be made. First of all, sinners can't leave the Pride ring so he can't bring you home to the wrath ring. So he often makes trips to the pride ring to visit you, at some point your home becomes his home before either of you realize it. It kinda makes him feel off-he stands out like a sore thumb in your place. But he tries to not get you place dirty and tries to make sure he's not totally bloody when he shows up.

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK OVER A WHOLE MONTH LOVLEY STAR! I had no idea how to write about various characters reacting to a coquette!sinner!Reader without having so much overlap and I just evbsfvhsbk-

Here it is, finally TvT sorry for taking forever. Thank you for your patience!

[transform4u]

I’m a up and coming gay college freshman, definitely more focused on the academic end of things. any chance I could have a real straight bro’s college experience?

You stand in front of your dorm room mirror, adjusting your outfit for the night. It's not just any party—you're getting ready for Alistair's party, the only other guy as smart as you, yet also your longtime rival. The rivalry goes back to high school where you competed fiercely for top grades, and Alistair never quite forgave you for being valedictorian. You'd hoped attending a top university would keep you apart, but fate had other plans. Now, you share nearly every class and club, constantly crossing paths in classes, dorms, cafeterias, and even at GSA meetings.

High school rumors painted you and Alistair as boyfriends, a hilarious misconception given your rivalry. You were the charming, kind geek with a hidden cuteness, while Alistair was awkward, intensely bookish, and secretly jealous of your easy charm and looks. He was deeply into Star Wars, whereas you had every episode of Doctor Who on DVD and even dressed as the 14th Doctor last year.

Tonight, you had hoped Alistair's party invitation signaled a truce, a chance to bury the hatchet and start fresh. But stepping into his dimly lit dorm room, bathed in red lights and adorned with an emo witchy goth aesthetic, you feel a strange tension in the air. Tacky Star Wars posters clash with shirtless pin-ups of Tom Holland and Chris Evans, and Alistair's black-rimmed glasses give him an intense, cat-like gaze.

"Welcome," he greets you with a coy smile, handing you a drink. You cautiously sniff it—it seems fine. "We should probably pregame a bit, right? To putting the past behind us! To starting a new!" he says cheerfully, raising his glass. Little did you know how true those words would ring.

As you sip the drink, a peculiar sensation washes over you. Your head spins, and you glance down to see yourself standing inside a pentagram marked on the floor. Candles around it flicker to life, and Alistair begins chanting in a low, resonant voice.

"By the magic that shapes the soul and bends the will, I transform my rival with a potent skill. From intellect to muscle, from wit to brawn, Make him the jock he'd sneer upon."

Energy pulses through your body as Alistair continues, his words weaving a spell that seems to twist reality itself.

"Let his speech be all about the game, His thoughts as shallow as his fame. Turn his interests, twist his mind, Let ignorance and swagger bind."

You struggle to protest, to break free from the enchantment that grips you, but it's futile.

"By the moon and stars above, Grant me this spell, my deepest love. To teach a lesson, change the scene."

In an instant, darkness envelops you.

When you regain your senses, you find yourself amidst a lively, bustling party. Music thumps loudly, and colorful lights dance across the room. Confusion grips you—something is definitely different, but you can't quite grasp it. People around you seem to regard you differently, and you feel a newfound confidence, a swagger in your step that's both thrilling and disconcerting.

Alistair stands nearby, watching you with an inscrutable expression. There's a flicker of understanding between you, amidst the chaos of the party. Whatever spell he cast has altered the fabric of your being, and tonight will unfold a new chapter in your rivalry—one that promises revelations and challenges you never anticipated. As you navigate the party, you know one thing for certain: this night will change everything between you and Alistair.

As Alistair watches, a sly grin spreads across your face, almost instinctively. The music of the party pulsates around you, but your mind feels like it's in a haze, memories of computational thinking and Doctor Who episodes slipping away like sand through your fingers. Instead, they are replaced with vivid recollections of football matches watched with your old man, and hours spent cheering on WWE wrestlers.

An energy pulses through your body, causing a throbbing sensation in your head. You reach up to rub your temples, only to find that your dorky glasses slip from your face and clatter to the ground, unnoticed. As you stare down at your hands, you feel a strange shift occurring within you.

Your once-boyish charm and baby fat seem to melt away, leaving behind a face that is a stark contrast to the one you once knew. It's a study in blunt masculinity and exaggerated features, reminiscent of a bulldog's rugged charm. Your forehead, broad and unyielding, slopes down to meet a pronounced brow ridge that casts a perpetual shadow over your steel-blue eyes, now narrowed with skepticism.

Your nose, once straight and strong, bears the signs of numerous fractures, giving it a slightly crooked and pugnacious appearance. Lips that were once gentle and unassuming now twist into a cocksure smirk or a disdainful sneer, revealing teeth that gleam too perfectly.

Your jawline, heavy-set and sharply descending, ends in a squared-off chin that juts forward with an almost confrontational air, adorned with a perpetual chinstrap. Cheeks that were once flushed with excitement over intellectual pursuits now speak of nights spent in rowdy frat parties and on the football field, basking in the adulation of peers.

As your face sets into this new mold, new memories flood your mind, pushing out the remnants of your old life. You recall the rush of adrenaline during football matches, the horsing around with your teammates, and the cheers of the crowd. Thoughts of wrestling matches and late-night parties become clearer, overshadowing any trace of your former nerdy pursuits.

As you stare down at your skinny, twinky body, an unnatural rage begins to well up inside you. Standing at barely 5'6" and 110 pounds soaking wet, you've always felt inadequate, especially when compared to the jocks and athletes around you. The feeling of frustration and insignificance intensifies as you feel a strange twitching sensation in your muscles, almost as if they are awakening from a long slumber.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, your body begins to change. You feel a surge of energy coursing through your veins, igniting a transformation that defies logic and reason. Inch by inch, you grow taller, your frame expanding into something imposing and solidly built. Soon, you stand tall at around 6 feet 3 inches, your once-slender physique replaced by broad shoulders that taper down to a narrow, muscular waist.

Your chest swells into a barrel-like mass of muscle, proudly displaying well-defined pectorals that ripple with each movement. Thick, sinewy arms hang by your sides, adorned with veins that trace their way over bulging biceps and forearms hardened by countless repetitions of weightlifting and grappling.

Your neck becomes thick and sturdy, supporting a square jawline that hints at your stubborn determination and competitive spirit. Despite your newfound size, there's a grace in the way you move—a controlled athleticism honed through years of wrestling and football practice. Your legs, now like tree trunks, showcase the explosive strength necessary for dominating on the wrestling mat or breaking through defensive lines on the football field.

Weathered and bronzed skin, bearing the occasional scar or bruise earned in the heat of competition, tells stories of your journey through physical challenges. Tattoos, often tribal or school insignias, adorn your arms and chest, marking your allegiance to team and fraternity. Off the field, your posture exudes confidence—a relaxed but assertive stance that speaks volumes of your status among peers.

Alistair bursts into laughter as he witnesses the drastic transformation you've undergone. The disbelief and amusement are palpable in his expression, but you ignore his reaction. Instead, you grunt at him with a newfound confidence, "Yo nerd, get me a beer."

Alistair, caught off guard but amused by the situation, quickly conjures another enchanted beer. You take a swig, and as the enchanted liquid flows down your throat, you feel your mind growing duller and dumber. Memories of late-night study sessions and intellectual debates fade away, replaced by images of rowdy frat parties, cheering crowds, and the adrenaline rush of competitive sports.

Compassion and empathy seem to smolder and fade, overshadowed by a growing sense of arrogance and entitlement. As you revel in this new persona, you realize that tonight marks a significant shift in your life. The rivalry with Alistair has taken on a new dimension—one where physical strength and social status reign supreme.

You see a keg out the corner of your eye and rush to it. You feel a strange sensation as you start pumping the keg. With each pump, your intelligence seems to slip away like sand through your fingers. The rage builds up inside of you, consuming every ounce of compassion and empathy that once existed within you.

Your clothes begin to change as well, transforming from your usual smart attire into something more befitting a frat boy - loud and obnoxious garments that scream "party animal." Your personality shifts along with your appearance; what was once reserved becomes brash and aggressive.

The memories of Kevin Brady - the cute theatre twink who stole your heart at prom - fade away like dust in the wind. In their place is an image of some busty blonde bimbo cheerleader who now occupies that special spot in your mind where Kevin used to be. As if by magic, she materializes before you with her boobs jiggling seductively under her skimpy outfit while she smiles coyly at you over her shoulder

With each new pump comes another blow against everything that made up who you are: intellectually curious… artistically inclined… sensitive towards others' feelings… All these traits are lost as dullness sets in like molasses on a cold winter's day – replaced by mindless conformity and shallow pleasure-seeking behaviors characteristic only among straight frat boys.

As you pump the keg more, you start to smell the beer. Your nostrils flare and you feel yourself becoming deeply conservative. Republican and Southern values fill your mind as a gold cross forms around your neck.

Memories and beliefs form in your head - memories of going to church every Sunday with your old man, beliefs about traditional family values and hard work paying off. You remember how much fun it was playing football in high school, representing everything that's right about America: strength, determination, teamwork… all those things that make this country great!

Thoughts about the radical left begin to creep into your mind now too though - thoughts like "they're ruining our country" or "they want us all dependent on government handouts". But then again maybe they're just jealous because they don't have what we do: freedom! And if anyone tries taking away our freedoms? Well then we'll show them who really runs this place… won't we now?

As you continue pumping the keg, memories begin to form in your mind - memories of fucking the dumb cheerleader bitch in the back of a limo. A cocky grin grows on your face at the thought of it.

Suddenly, Alistair is there, looking at you with disdain. "Watch you looking at faggot," you holler at him, and something strange happens - his clothes become tighter, his face cuter… unnaturally so. He looks and talks like a total faggot now!

"You're such a big bully!" Alistair lisps as he cowers before you. You can't help but laugh maniacally as he whimpers pathetically under your gaze. "You're just jealous," you shout back at him while tugging on your own cock for emphasis, "you're not packing like a real man."

Alistair continues to act more like a fag throughout the party as it grows louder and straighter around you - all jocks and bimbo sluts now dominate this scene that was once filled with diversity (or so it seemed). "Why don't you hang out with your loser queer friends in the theatre Alistair!"

Without hesitation or remorse whatsoever (because why would there be any?), you pull up Alistair's tight thong until he screams bloody murder while everyone else laughs hysterically along with you because let's face it: life is just too short not to enjoy ourselves sometimes right?

You remember getting to college on a football scholarship. You're big, strong, and obnoxious - just the way they wanted their players to be. Your fellow bros and you get fucking wasted every chance you get, doing shots and keg stands until the early hours of the morning.

As the beer fuels your every move, you spot a hot chick with huge tits walking by.

"Dude," one of your bros says as he enters the room, "did you fucking do her?" He laughs heartily at his own joke while slapping your back - an action that only makes you feel more nauseous than before.

"Yeah man," another adds, "she was totally into you! Said she wanted it rough." They all laugh again… but there's something different about their laughter this time around: it holds an edge of envy mixed with disbelief – almost as if they couldn't quite wrap their heads around how lucky you always were or maybe they just didn't want to admit deep down inside that deep down inside what really happened was something none of them would ever admit out loud: jealousy.

You spot the hot chick with huge tits from last night at the party, and she walks over to you. "Hey there stud," she says in a seductive voice. "Remember me?"

You grin cockily at her. "Of course I do, babe. You were the one who couldn't get enough of my dick last night."

She giggles like a schoolgirl and flips her hair over her shoulder. "Yeah, that's right! I just can't get enough of big strong men like you."

You take another swig of your beer and wink at her suggestively. "Well, lucky for you then isn't it?"

She steps closer to you so that their breasts are practically touching your chest through their tight clothes as she whispers in your ear: "Do me again tonight baby."

Your eyes widen slightly at this unexpected turn of events - not because it turns out this girl actually wanted more than just one night with someone like yourself but rather because deep down inside… well let's face it: even someone as obnoxious and brutish as yourself has his limits when it comes to how far he can push things without consequences coming back around sooner or later.

You flirt with the hot chick, feeling her up under the table where no one can see. Your bros egg you on from across the room, cheering you on as they clink their beer bottles together in anticipation of what's about to happen next.

Without a second thought, you stand up and pull her by the hand towards an empty bedroom nearby. The door slams shut behind you as everyone outside watches intently through narrowed eyes - waiting for that telltale moan or groan that signals something truly special is taking place within those four walls right now…

Inside, she kneels down in front of your pants unzipping them quickly before taking out your already erect cock which she begins sucking eagerly while running her hands over your muscular frame like it was some sort of prize-winning sculpture come to life right before her very eye. "Oh...Oh...Caleb....you're so fucking hot" she moans

You flex your huge biceps in the mirror as you face fuck this dumb slut, watching yourself with pride. Your ego grows larger by the second, swelling to unimaginable proportions as it becomes increasingly clear that there's nothing or no one who can stand up to you now.

Your mind is barely the size of a pea these days… but who needs brains when you have brute force? Sex and football. Beer and bros. Chicks and thinking with your dick… that's all that matters anymore anyway! You grab fistfuls full of hair and guide her head back and forth along your shaft faster than ever before until finally reaching climax inside her mouth – filling it with thick ropes upon ropes worth every last drop until there's nothing left but satisfaction written all over both your faces.

You're young, dumb, and repeating freshman year for the third time now - but who cares? Not Caleb! All he knows is how to party hard while maintaining his reputation as being one helluva stud among his peers (and maybe even beyond)… so why bother trying anything new when what works keeps working just fine.

[turvi]

Hi! Shortcake here, i j wanted 2 request a rodrick x sweet reader, the kinda girl that rlly enjoys pink and skirts and things like that. Ty, have a nice day! <3

First of all, love the nickname..second thanks for the request. I hope you like this.

"Rodrick, don't blink."

"Because you are literally poking my eyes with your finger," Rodrick argued. He had agreed to let Y/n do his makeup today. He was amazed at the amount of makeup she had and was just ready to be her guinea pig.

"I'm being very gentle Rodrick, if you could just stay still then my fingers won't poke you."

He melted at her sweet voice. His eyes fluttered at her gentle touch. They were so different yet they were made for each other. He smirked as an idea crossed his mind. "You wanna use glitter next?"

Y/n gasped "Would you let me?"

Rodrick just wanted to smush her cheeks and kiss all over her face. She looked extra cute today in her all-pink attire and a matching hairband. "Of course, I would." He took out the glitter pouch from her hot pink makeup kit and handed it to her.

Rodrick couldn't help but love her more as she giggled and started applying glitter to his cheeks.

She gasped "Oh my gosh Rodrick you look so pretty."

Rodrick smushed her cheeks and smacked kisses across her blushing cheeks. "Thank you lovie."

..................................................

The next day Rodrick would glare at anyone who even tried to make a sound when they saw Rodrick in full makeup. He has always been protective of Y/n's feelings since day one.

The boys in school who called her childish and pretentious for her all-pink attire would don a purple bruise on their faces the next day.

When Rodrick volunteered to teach Y/n to play the drums he painted his spare drumsticks pink, and when she found out she kissed him until his cheeks turned to her favourite colour.

He somehow convinced Susan to get him a pair of pink socks so he could match with Y/n when she wore her own pair of pink socks.

Sure her pink aesthetic clashed with his emo aesthetic, but nothing makes him happier than seeing his girl happy when they match.

..........................................................

Once Rodrick had visited her home and he was genuinely impressed how she managed to get everything in pink and still make her room look good.

All her shampoos, her dresses and even her pillow were in various shades of pink. Rodrick nicknamed her doll because she resembled a Barbie doll. He even managed to get her a Barbie doll at Christmas that he claimed looked like her. In return, she dressed up her Ken like him, and he made sure she placed it next to her Barbie doll.

Every time he would visit her he would first make sure his Ken doll is with her Barbie doll.

Rodrick started collecting random things just because they are pink-coloured. Movie tickets, guitar picks, flowers, bottle lids etc. He would collect them and give them to Y/n the next time they meet.

He never thought he would like the colour so much, but he would bring all the pinks in the world to her just to see her smile.

A/N: REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED IF YOU LIKE THIS.

[yandere-romanticaa]

I need some Yandere Bokuto and Yandere Akaashi! Maybe together because of the friendship bokuto and akaashi have if thats alright (If not then do it seperate)

This would be one of the most functional pairs to have, even despite their stark and clashing personalities.

You most likely met them in highschool and it was a blast to be around them. Albeit, a bit intense at times. Bokuto was incredibly difficult to keep up with, especially if you're on the more introverted side. He wants you to attend absolutely every single game he and Akaashi are in, he's not even against you coming to practice either! Please do just that, it boosts him so much!

Even if he does get distracted by your smile sometimes but who cares! He certainly does not!

Bokuto is like a whirlwind storm - you never know when to expect him but you know that once he steps close there will be nothing but chaos. He's fun, kind. Gentle even. He tries to be, for you. He can be oblivious towards your feelings sometimes but he always has your best interests at heart.

He would never forgive himself if something happened to you.

Bokuto is needy, incredibly so. If he's not holding or kissing you 24/7 then what's even the point? You give him energy, your mere presence gives him drive and confidence like nothing else. Soon enough his presence starts to become suffocating. He is so deeply intertwined in your life, like sticky glue which you can't shake off no matter how hard you try. He managed to force his way into every possible crevice inside your life and he is always aware of what he's doing. His perfectionist nature commands him to do so.

However, if Bokuto is the powerful storm itself, Akaashi is the calm before the storm.

He lurks. Constantly.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depends who you're asking) there are times when Bokuto can't be with you no matter how badly he wants to be. Akaashi becomes something of a second shadow of yours, constantly tailing after you, taking care of you in the most subtle yet gentle ways. He offers you water regularly, he has you wear his warm jacket on warm days and he regularly chastises you if you think of doing something stupid. He's not completely sweet to you though, his dry personality does not allow for that.

Akaashi throws all sorts of remarks your way but they're never hurtful. Bokuto is usually the victim for his quick witted jabs, but, when he says them to you they're just. Different. They're laced with affection and playfulness but his stoic face masks the true meaning behind his words. He keeps tabs on you in any way he can and Bokuto quickly catches on to this.

They don't have a proper discussion about the situation they're in. The two just come to a silent agreement that they will share you. They already know each other well and their trust cannot be shaken. Neither one is against sharing you with the other.

There are times when you are a fun trio of idiots, simply living life. You have dinner and goof off. Bokuto makes you laugh and Akaashi feeds you fresh food from the table. Bokuto has an iron clad grip on your waist while Akaashi blocks your exit. Despite the lighthearted atmosphere, there's a thick layer of tension in the air. They smile, but it's not reaching their eyes.

Could they be hiding something?

You are paranoid, you rationalize. What could these two clowns have something to hide?

Time passes, you're all still as thick as thieves. Bokuto has become a professional volleyball player and Akaashi became a manga editor. Due to his strict schedule, Bokuto can't see you as often as he'd like... Which is all day, every day. At least in highschool he had the excuse of classes but now?

He's got nothing!

That's where his good old pal Akaashi comes in.

He sends Bokuto photos daily. The duo have countless folders dedicated to you, all of which have different themes and aesthetics. Akasshi sneaks in as many as he can and you won't ever catch him in the act.

He has years of experience snapping photos of you in every way imaginable. If you ever had the misfortune of looking into his computer files, he'd go to jail for life.

Despite their hectic schedules, both of them manage to keep a tight leash on you. Bokuto is quick to make work of anyone who has any sort of romantic inkling towards you, unless Akaashi tears into them first with his sharp tongue.

Neither option is safe. If you're on the receiving end of either, you will be left in a puddle of your own tears. Perhaps even blood.

You cry and complain to them - why have all your friends left you? Was there something wrong with you? Why was no one looking at you, what sort of defect did you have?

Akaashi's shirt is soaked in your bitter tears as he has his hands on your shoulders while Bokuto sits behind you, his chest pressed straight against your back. He is doing everything he can to not pounce on you right there and then but he knows better - patience is key. Pity he lacks that quality.

Luckily for him though, Akaashi has it in spades.

And they sit there with you on the sofa, the soft pitter patter of the rain hitting the window as you sob your heart out towards your two closest friends, oblivious to all of the things that they have done. You don't know how many people Bokuto had to beat up in order to get you where you are. You don't know how many people Akaashi had to scare the living crap out of in order to have you in his arms.

Bokuto gently blows in your ear, most likely in a teasing manner. You look up and in your shaky gaze are met with Akaashi's hungry stare, his dark eyes boring so deep into your own that you feel as though he could swallow you whole. A pair of powerful arms wrap themselves around your waist, securing you in place as Bokuto places his lips on your neck. He nibbles on the soft flesh as Akaashi leans in and steals the kiss he had dreamed about all those years ago.

Finally, they have you. No one is coming for you, they made sure of it. You don't need anyone anymore. They are your world from this point onwards.

[schmidtsbimbo]

★Billy Loomis & Stu Macher x Bimbo!Reader headcanons★

𖦹Warnings: slightly suggestive if you squint

⋆｡°‧Requests are open! Comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated ♡

Billy ⁀➷

୨୧― You aren't really his usual type but when he met you he just couldn't get you of his mind

୨୧― Loves how different both of your aesthetics are and how they clash (but would never admit it)

୨୧― Gets slightly possessive whenever guys stare but also loves it

୨୧― He gets so touchy when someone's staring a little too hard

୨୧― (Somewhat) Playfully asks you to cover up a little more

୨୧― But also says things like, "Wear whatever you want, you know I can fight."

୨୧― Adores how clueless you are on so many things

୨୧― Loves the way he sticks out like a sore thumb in your room; completely covered in pink decorations and plushies

୨୧― Pays you random visits through your window just to see you in your skimpy night gowns

Stu ⁀➷

୨୧― Instantly fell in love with the way you carried yourself and didn't seem to care what others thought of the way you dressed

୨୧― Loves helping you pick out your outfits

୨୧― Buys you things he'd think you'll like whenever he's out

୨୧― Does not care how revealing you dress, if anything he encourages it and lives for it

୨୧― Begs you to let him pick out your next nail design

୨୧― Keeps an eye on you at gatherings and parties just to make sure no one gets handsy

୨୧― Loves gossiping with you, always comes up to you with something like, "You will not guess what I overheard in class today" in such a dramatic tone

୨୧― Defends you like his life depends on it whenever someone says something negative about the way you dress

[fredwkong]

Genie: Marcus’s Wishes

Click here to see the genie’s first master.

Marcus wasn’t your average jockboy. In school, he had been the class queer, marked for bullying because of his femme interests and gay voice. Worse, because he was one of the only Black kids. At university, he’d caught the iron bug and gotten huge, but kept the femininity, too. Nowadays, even with his powerful bod and handsome face, he still got dirty looks for his paisley shirts, peppy attitude, and swishy walk.

It was somewhere around 3 AM, and Marcus was feeling well and truly used. He hadn’t been topped like Mr. Peters had topped him in… he didn’t know how long. The Daddy dom’s husband, Lars, had told Marcus that the couple never double dipped on a guy, which sucked, but Marcus had more than enough wank material from this night alone to get him through.

Lars, still naked, followed the half-dressed Marcus to the living room. Mr. Peters was lounging on the balcony upstairs, smoking. Lars was giving Marcus the instructions for getting to the main street in his thick German accent. The other boys had left a few hours ago to catch the last busses home.

Something caught Marcus’s eye in the dimly lit room. A glint of light off of brass, an old, traditional lamp sitting next to Mr. Peters’ humidor. “What’s that?” Marcus asked.

Lars looked at the lamp like he’d never seen it before. “Some object of Daddy’s,” he grunted. “You like it?”

“It’s beautiful.” Marcus was living in his own place for the first time, and he was starting to decorate. He drifted over and lifted up the lamp. He could base a whole room off of its aesthetics.

“Take it.” Lars waved away Marcus’s half-made protestation. “If Daddy thought it was important he would tell me,” said the German model. “It clashes with our decor.” He moved closer, and growled in Marcus’s ear, “You deserve a present for being such a good slut.”

An hour later, Marcus crashed into bed, not bothering to undress or unpack his bag, leaving the lamp in his gym duffel.

The next morning, he woke up late and made a protein shake for breakfast. As he chugged it, he pulled the lamp out of his bag. Held it up against different spaces in his apartment. It would clash with the Britney poster in the bedroom. Ditto for the Barbie display in his office. He settled on the entryway. He could get a pedestal for it and make an Arabian nook or something.

There was some kind of stain on the side of the lamp. Grabbing a hanky, Marcus started to rub it, but was interrupted as the lamp slid from his grasp and released a cloud of rainbow smoke. When it cleared, a burly Arabian man in a thong and a slutty stringer tank stood in Marcus’s apartment.

“Hey cutie,” said the genie. “Make me some wishes and I’ll get you hot.”

Marcus’s eyes caught on the genie’s ample bulge, and then he processed what he was being offered. In the second before he made his first wish, all he could think was masculinity. There was a corner near his apartment where Hispanic men gathered to shoot the shit in their jeans and tank tops. Their manliness was effortless, totally unstudied, what Marcus had dreamed of being in his childhood.

“I wish I was more manly, like a Latino guy.”

“Got it,” said the genie, with a snap of his fingers. “One Latino meatlover, coming right up.”

Marcus found himself surrounded by a cloud of orange smoke. It smelled like sweat and spices, and Marcus found himself inhaling it deeply. The scent blazed a trail through his mind, and Marcus started to think in Spanish rather than English. His university education vanished, replaced by the foundation of his own landscaping company at 18, and all the hard, manual labour involved in maintaining and building yards for rich, lazy white people.

At the same time, the smoke pumped up Marcus’s big Black muscles further, and lightened them to a sun-kissed tan. His hair straightened and retracted partway into his scalp, leaving him with a simple, masculine haircut. His dick and balls expanded, and the extra testosterone threw his already ripe armpits into overdrive, filling the room with the smell of his sweat. Finally, the last of the smoke thickened into threadbare white briefs, tight jeans, and a tighter tank top, an outfit fit for the masc Latino guy Marcus was becoming.

The genie snapped his fingers once again, and Marcus’s apartment became Marco’s house, a one storey bachelor pad full of thrifted furniture, hand-me-downs, and Marco’s curated selection of Tom of Finland prints hung on the walls.

Marco looked around with satisfaction, his big, callused hands on his hips. “Buen, cabron,” he told the genie in his deep, firm voice. “I need to go work now.”

“See you tomorrow, hermoso,” said the genie, vanishing back into the lamp that sat on Marco’s living room dildo shelf.

During the day, Marco drove his pickup truck to the office, maintained the lawns for some clients, and handled everything it took to run his own business. He hadn’t done great at school—too busy working so his mami could rest—but once he’d founded the business he’d discovered a knack for accounting, so he sat in his air conditioned office to do paperwork while his college boy employees worked through the heat of the afternoon.

Well, he finished the work in an hour and spent another two sniffing his spicy pits while he tugged his thick cock.

After work, Marco drove home, checked his immaculate front and back yards for anything that needed maintenance, and fired up the barbecue. He didn’t realise he had cooked for four until he sat down at the table with a mountain of meat and no one to feed.

The next morning, Marco summoned the genie bright and early with his second wish. “I wish I had some amigos to share the evenings with.”

“Aww, you could have just asked,” the genie cooed, and blew Marco a kiss as he vanished, sending a heart-shaped orange smoke ring to hit Marco in the face with the scent of musk and spice. When nothing seemed to change, Marco shrugged and loaded up his truck for work.

At the first client’s house, Marco dealt with the usual white housewife cooing over his big muscles and blue-collar masculinity with a roll of his eyes. But then the woman’s son, a lean twunk home for the summer, stumbled down the stairs for coffee. He glanced at Marco, who was setting up the lawnmower, and saw a flash of orange light as his nostrils filled with the scent of the Latino’s musk, and his mouth with the flavour of unwashed Latin cock.

As Marco packed his truck back up, the twunk stepped shyly up next to him. At first, he asked the usual questions about Marco’s gym routine, but then Marco raised his arms, showing his hairy pits and releasing a cloud of fresh, sweaty musk, and the white boy seemed to swallow his tongue. He handed Marco a paper with his number on it and fled.

It was the same with every client that day. At some point while he worked at each house, a cute young white boy would walk up and hand Marco his number. Some were little femme twinks, others buff jocks, and a couple were cute hairy cubs. All were shy, pretty, and lived in the rich neighbourhoods Marco worked in. While he was in the office that afternoon, Marco was so busy talking to all his new boys that he fell behind on the accounting.

That evening, Marco’s house was full of the voices of hot young guys. They filled the dining table, the couches, and the patio Marco had built with his own hands. Marco barbecued to his heart’s content and wandered among the boys with his own plate. As he greeted each new boy, Marco instinctively pulled them in for a firm kiss and grope, then said “Hola, mi chiquita.”

As the night went on, the boys got rowdier and hornier. The rich, potent smell of Marco’s musk and the genie’s magic filled the rapidly heating space, and Marco found himself on his bed in a happy pile of rich white boys desperate to sniff and lick him all over. Just at the stroke of midnight, the genie heard Marco, facefucking a little twink while some jocks and cubs worshipped him, mutter, “I wish I could see myself fuck this little gringo.”

A blast of magic suffused every corner of the house with musky orange smoke. When it cleared, Marco’s bed was surrounded by film cameras, taking different angles as he shoved his thick Latin dick into the white twink’s throat. In the spare room, two of the nerdier boys sat naked at monitors and called shots for the stream. Each room had a camera setup, including a hidden corner on the patio and a secluded bower in the garden.

Once he was done with the twink and a sweaty musk worship session with a couple of jock boys, Marco got dressed for bed in a pair of stained white briefs and turned to camera one. “That’s all for tonight, gringos,” he told his viewers in an playfully thick Spanish accent. “Come back tomorrow once I’m done working hard on your lawns.” He fondled his pouch, and the stream cut.

As Marco stood by the door, kissing his boys goodbye, one young lad caught sight of a weird lamp sitting next to Papi Marco’s dildo collection.

Idea with inspiration from a chatbot of my own creation.

Click here to see the genie’s next master.

Click here to see all the genie’s adventures.

[thatsatricky1]

𝐀𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 || ‘𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧’ Chapter I

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Abandoned. After going through hell and back together, she was left there to fend for herself. Y/n felt as though they’d left her in the dust at the facility. A facility that had taken young gifted children raising them in secret. The eight of them had been taken as children and grown up together at the facility and just when it they had the chance of escaping they made one crucial mistake, leaving her behind in the dust. One big mistake they hadn’t forgiven themselves for, and she would make sure they’d never forget it.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Nct Dream ot7 x Reader.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Angst, Fluff, Mystery, Psychological, Supernatural, Thriller, Trauma, Weird Humor.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Angst, abandonment, cursing, mild fighting, talk of possible hallucination, tension.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5,5k+

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: This does not depict an accurate picture of Nct Dream and this is strictly fantasy/fiction for entertainment purposes.

Taking in a crisp breath of air never felt so fresh to her. Even after a year out of her personal hell every breath she took felt as if she was breathing freely for the first time all over again, not taking any second for granted.

Just like any day she took in her surroundings with sharp calculated eyes only relaxing when everything seemed perfectly in order, not feeling the burning stare of those she was constantly on the run from, when you escape, you never truly escape. Hunted down like a dog until they finally give up hope.

Y/n looked around her differently now that she felt safe gazing at the bustling crowd going about their days, no one paying attention to her too focused on their own lives. How it should be.

South Korea, Seoul. Her current destination. She’d arrived exactly one hour ago and was now taking her time to take in the scenery, deciding to enjoy the sight in front of her before getting down to business. The true reason for her coming to the heavily populated area.

Either the dumbest place to hide seeing as it had eyes everywhere or the smartest place to hide from how many people were there to begin with. It went both ways. Her intentions were to find seven people that would no doubt be all together. It had taken her a year to search for them but she’d located them in Seoul from whatever hints she could find, now all she needed to do was find out where in Seoul they were.

She craved for answers, but not just that. She wanted them to see her, show them just how capable she was, how much she’d changed in the span of two years. What she’d become.

With a low hum her eyes met the sight of an aesthetic cafe, then again every store here in Seoul had its own aesthetic, something she hadn’t cared for in the past but now wanted to enjoy the little things she couldn’t in the past. Seoul stores were all aesthetic but clashed in how they looked next to each other.

Crossing the street to get to the cafe she opened the door, her ears picking up the sound of the doorbell clinging as she went. Not wasting time walking over to the cafe’s counter quickly catching the vibe of the cafe to be a soft and cozy area, not many people there. Perfect.

Her lips automatically slipped on a smile as she approached the counter, a young man in his early twenties like herself looking up at her with his own smile.

“Hello, welcome to Atiny, where our coffee is freshly grinded by us and served with extra care. What can I get for you today?” The man spoke casually, a smile never leaving his face as he gazed at her, taking her in speaking as if he’d said the line a million times. Something Y/n thought must have been true.

He was tall, having dyed his hair freshly silver, wearing comfortable clothing with a beige apron on with a sand timer glass as the logo on it. A sweet vibe coming from the man as if to say this place was safe. Though Y/n knew better than to think anywhere was safe.

“Hello I’m not usually in this area of Seoul often so I’m not quite sure what to order. Do you have any recommendations.” She swiftly asked, her smile softening as she tilted her head in question looking up at the worker.

“Well since it’s my shift I’d recommend either what everyone orders here which is of course an Iced Americano or the drink I make very well, a warm caramel macchiato. If you’re looking to also eat something I suggest the strawberry muffins, Wooyoung just finished baking them so they’re still warm and very fresh.”

The man spoke casually with his comforting vibe listing off some items they had available while trying to keep the conversation light and somewhat humorous.

“Well…” Y/n started off, eyes flickering to the man’s name badge before looking back up into his eyes “Yuhno, I would like a warm caramel macchiato with a strawberry muffin for here please.”

“Great choice, I’ll get it ready for you. Would you like to pay here first or at your table after finishing?”

“I’ll pay now.” Her response was just as fast as his was, not wasting time as her nimble fingers pulled her wallet out of her jacket opening it up.

”Sure thing, that is 7.25. Cash or c- ah alright.” Yuhno cutting off his own sentence watching her hold out a tener. Moving to take it hand brushing past hers noting how soft it was yet in a strange way hard, as if she’d worked a lot.

“Thank you Yuhno, keep the change for yourself or the tip jar, I’ll go find my seat.” Y/n spoke up before he could start handing her the change turning around to find herself a spot to sit.

Yuhno stood there for a second change in hand as he watched her walk across the cafe, eyes taking in her green dyed hair. Not an unusual sight for Seoul as many dyed their hair. Himself included. Not to mention one of his close friends and work colleagues had green hair too.

Clumsily putting the change in the tip jar once he noticed she’d found a spot in the corner booth and their eyes met, moving to grab one of the many clean mugs to start preparing her order.

Y/n watched with a small amused smile before turning to look out the window, quickly getting lost in thought. Her smile slipped from her lips as it usually did in these moments.

Eyes searching the crowd for familiar faces, none welcoming but came up empty. They most likely looked the same, maybe different haircuts and clothing style would be a given style change considering the clothing style they’d left in two years ago would send curious glances their way.

Before she felt lost, missed them even. But now her feelings on them had changed, the two years alone, isolated away from them had changed her perspective on them quite a lot. Of course there was a big factor as to why.

‘They left me’

The thought, consistent throughout the two years and still was there and her main focus and thought when it came to them. Whatever close bond they’d developed from not just surviving day for day together but because of their natural bond was gone, long gone.

“I hate to interrupt whatever has you lost in thought, but I wouldn’t want your drink getting cold.”

Yunho’s voice had snapped her back to reality, having to force herself not to react wrongly letting her body continue its relaxed posture, willing her muscles to not tense as she looked up at the young man who held her order on a tray. Silently scolding herself for being so off guard she hadn’t even noticed his presence.

A smile slipping back onto her face as she gave a nod thanking him quietly as he placed her coffee and muffin on the table. Though he lingered by her side before deciding to do something he normally wouldn’t do with customers. Yunho slipped into the other side of the booth facing her.

“Ah, I may not be familiar with the customs here in this part of Seoul but I’m sure that company from the cafe is not a part of your job with customers.” Y/n points out but her smile didn’t leave her face to show she meant no harm by her words.

“You’re right about that, but I couldn’t help but notice you seemed lost in thought. Not particularly good thoughts either. Plus you’re the only customer we have right now.” Yuhno awkwardly explained his hand automatically going to his neck rubbing it with a sheepish smile.

“Well, you’re right too. But instead of dwelling on the thoughts I’ll try to enjoy this instead. Though I wouldn’t mind the company.” She replied, keeping the warm conversation going as she gestured to her coffee and muffin.

Yuhno nods as he watches her pick up the coffee curious at her reaction as she closes her eyes for a split second taking in the smell of it before blowing cautiously on the caffeinated drink and finally taking a sip. He didn’t know he was holding his breath until she opened her eyes letting out a satisfied hum indicating the drink had been prepared well.

“I didn’t expect anything else, it tastes good.” Y/n complimented Yuhno while taking a longer sip of the drink enjoying how it warmed her from the inside.

“That’s great to hear.” Yuhno spoke giddily before coughing at his overexcited reaction shifting in his seat, coming up with a question off the top of his head on the spot “So, why are you in this part of Seoul if it’s somewhere you don’t come often?”

Y/n eyes that had gazed at her drink flew upwards to gaze at Yunho, to him it looked like any normal gaze but in actual fact it was her calculating the question, analyzing his words.

“Just meeting some… old friends that I haven’t seen in a while.” She casually stated testing the waters.

Yuhno hummed at her words leaning back in the leather brown booth seat hand absentminded fiddling with the sweet table cloth.

“It must be nice visiting old friends. I hope it goes well.” Yuhno replied with a genuine smile wondering what her friends were like.

“Hm, I’m sure it’ll go exactly how I think it will.” Y/n spoke. Yuhno nodded, understanding her statement completely differently than the double meaning she’d truly meant.

“Oh right, I never got your name.” Yuhno spoke up leaning forward slightly.

“My name? How about I tell you that next time?” She responded in a light joking manner, not wanting to give out her name so easily, nothing was safe.

“Another time? So you’ll be back?” Yuhno asked with a tilt of his head curious but somewhere inside him he felt hope light up at the thought of the green haired woman becoming a regular at the cafe.

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be around here, but I’ll most likely visit this cafe a few more times, it's a gem here.” Her words flowed easily as Yunho looked down with a pleased smile.

Walking down the street, Y/n held her posture well, head up slipping past people left and right in the overcrowded as ever city. Making her way towards a crossing standing on one side waiting for the light to turn green, stilling at the edge of the pathway.

Her gaze forward as she watched the light, eyes drifting noticing it wouldn’t be changing soon, deciding to look wherever her eyes gazed during the wait. A flash of pink catching her eyes.

Her focus zoning on the figure, her hand by her side tightening into a fist as she took in the person. She’d been right, different styling but the same face, maybe only slightly more matured.

The coincidence of finding one of seven in the busy city was a slim low chance but it had happened as if the universe always tugged them back together. This just made it so much easier in locating them.

His gaze was unfocused as if lost in thought. How funny. The boy, now a man on the other side of a road crossing, seemed to not worry, as if he was free. The thought only caused her fist to impossibly tight by her side.

The beeping of the crosswalk turning green signaling for the pedestrians to cross had caused the pink haired man to look forward seemingly out of his dazed thoughts. Though his footing stuttered not being able to move forward at the sight in front of him.

As others started walking past himself he watched the other side where others did exactly that as well, all but one. He wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating, he’d done so in the past feeling as if in the corner of his eye he’d seen her here and there before but never like this. Not directly in front of him. The sight stealing his breath away.

She looked exactly like her. Though more matured, more held together. Green hair and a different styling choice, but it was still her. Catching her gaze. His stomach tightening not being able to move much like how she too had yet to move.

Y/n had caught his eye, it was obvious by the way he hadn’t moved a muscle. Not walking in her direction like others. So she made the first move, a slight tilt of her head as she gazed at him. The small action seemingly kicked him into taking one stop onto the crossroad.

But that was enough of a reaction for her. As she easily slipped back into the crowd like a shadow not crossing the road and instead disappearing with the crowd that had come opposite the crossing walk she’d originally planned to cross.

“Wait!” He yelled out eyes widening as he seemingly lost sight of her in a split second, his body properly propelling him forward now out of desperation as he moved across the crosswalk at a fast pace, eyes scanning desperately.

His feet passed onto the pathway now just as the crossing turned red. His body turned in every direction as he searched the crowds around him internally cursing at the heavily dense population of Seoul for once.

He had been so close, if he had of just crossed instead of staring dumbly he could have seen her up close, talked to her, touched her. To know she was really there and not just his mind playing tricks on him.

“Please come back.” He spoke to himself, desperate to believe it was her.

Jeno’s body finally stilling as he gazed at the crowd around him, before letting his head drop in defeat.

Oblivious to the gaze on his side profile inside an antique shop. Y/n stood there watching him. Knowing fully well she wouldn’t be satisfied with just making contact with Jeno.

No, she wanted them all in front of her when she met them properly. Her face that had been void of emotion, though slowly her lips slowly ticked up at one corner in a sort of satisfied way at how he had gazed at her. It was as if a ghost of the past had passed across his vision.

Eye’s trailing over his figure but stuck to one thing in particular, an ironed on badge that said ‘Glitch Mode’ on his bag, her eyebrow raising at this before turning to walk further into the store hidden away from sight.

Sitting down at an internet cafe wasn’t particularly something she liked doing seeing as it had taken her a year to catch up on technology, but now she knew what she was doing.

The search engine splayed across her screen from where she sat in the gaming chair, hand hovering over the keyboard in thought. Her fingers decided for her as they typed out the words still stuck in her head from just a few hours ago.

‘Glitch mode’

The first result was a place in Seoul that came up on the search engine. Her hand moving to the mouse clicking on the first result to be brought to the webpage. Instinctively leaning forward in her chair to get a closer look as she scrolled.

It was an arcade. Though mixed from retro games all the way to its very own new styled gaming station with Pc’s and all the like. Y/n wondering why he had an ironed badge on his bag with the logo.

Though her hand scrolling on the webpage stilled at one particular area of the site eyeing the paragraph.

‘Glitch Mode was created for the youth to be able to enjoy their time away from the responsibilities casted on them by society, a safe place for people to enjoy their time. For teenagers to adults up to their early thirties. A place designed and made by seven individuelles in hopes of creating a new environment for younger people to not only thrive but have a place to be themselves without the prejudice of the system we live in today.’

“Hidden in plain sight, what a bold move. How haven’t you been discovered yet?” Y/n whispered to herself.

“Glitch mode? It’s great there, better than these internet cafes but they always close up early on Thursdays and Fridays.” A voice spoke from beside her.

“They’re closed early today and tomorrow?” Y/n asked moving to look to her left at the person sitting beside her in their own gaming chair.

“Yeah, ever since they opened up last year they’ve been in big competition with places like internet cafes. Usually here and other places are empty when Glitch Mode is open or filled with more older people here.” The young man explained.

“Thank you for the information…” Y/n started to thank the random stranger but stalled not knowing their name, something they caught onto as they moved they dipped their head in a small bow.

“Jung Wooyoung.” Wooyoung introduced himself, causing Y/n to let out a hum at the familiar name she’d already heard from a certain barista this morning.

“Well thank you Wooyoung for the information. I have to go. Enjoy your time here.” She thanked him with a smile getting up after closing the browser search engine.

Wooyoung’s eyes following her action looking upwards once she was standing even when she turned to leave but stilled turning back to give Wooyoung a teasing smile.

“Your strawberry muffins are quite delicious, I can’t wait to taste them again another day.” With that she turned away, moving towards the exit.

Wooyoung staring dumbfounded at the spot she once was in. He’d baked fresh strawberry muffins for the cafe today but how did she know that? Shaking his head away from the thoughts when he heard his phone buzzing with a call.

Pulling the phone up to his ear, shoulders relaxing letting a smile grace his lips once again as Yuhno’s voice came out the other end rambling about a green haired girl who’d visited their cafe today.

“Oh by the way she never had a strawberry muffin before, but she was sure nothing would beat that one you made. She basically said your muffins were delicious Woo.”

“Yeah I know.” Was Wooyoung’s response as he glanced at the empty chair beside him in amusement now getting it, Yunho must have said his name when she’d been there.

“What’s the point of putting a calendar in the watch party room? No one is going to be wondering what day it is while watching movies with their friends, besides the room is bright yellow, and that calendar is literally a white base with blue and black.”

Chenle all but whined out from where he sat lounging on the yellow couch legs propped up on the table.

“Because something else needed to be hung up on these walls, plus the dark blue tilling at the bottom of the room matches well with the calendar now shut up.” Renjun retorted from where he leaned against the edge of the doorway frame.

“We can always swap it out for something else some other time.” Jisung chimed in after hanging the calendar up against the nail in the wall he’d just hammered.

“If we’d just put a poster up we would have avoided the whole hammering a hole into the wall, you know we have to plaster that up if we put away the calendar.” Chenle continued whining, obviously still not convinced.

“We could hide the hole with a poster instead.” Jisung offered up a not so long term idea for the hole in the wall problem if it came up.

Renjun was about to throw the nearest object beside him at the two but before he could the three turned to look in the direction of where they heard a door slamming open and shut.

“Jeno’s back.” Chenle pointed out, letting out a whine at Jisung pushing his legs off the table before following the two out of the watching room to investigate Jeno’s loud arrival together.

Jeno made his way back to the store walking in at a rushed pace, frustrated with the fact he was seeing her now in front of him rather than just the corner of his eye. Y/n was not there yet his mind continuously ate away at him.

“I’d ask who pissed in your cereal this morning, but I cooked fried eggs this morning.” Jaemin pointed out watching Jeno’s entrance coming into the staff room. From where he sat beside Donghyuck, the two passed each other an old retro game boy every time one of them failed a level.

“Just ask him who pissed on his eggs then instead.” Donghyuck piped in though his gaze was glued to the retro game boy, fingers intensely moving around to win the level so he didn’t need to pass it back over to Jaemin.

“I’m not in the mood.” Jeno gritted out through clenched teeth, his hand flying up to his pink stained hair tugging at it.

The two looking up at this, Donghyuck who’d normally whine hearing the game losing theme sound stayed quiet in favour of watching his pink haired friend.

“You saw her again in the corner of your eye?” Jaemin asked out softly, his hand moving to absentmindedly fiddle with his piercings against his ear at the slight thought of her. She’s always wanted piercings.

This caught the attention of Mark who’d been sitting at the desk finishing up some leftover paperwork.

“No… not like that. I swear I saw her, right in front of me. On the other side of the crosswalk. But then when I finally moved towards her it was like she just… just disappeared into the crowd.” Jeno stressed out moving towards where the two were sitting on the comfy worn out blue couch.

“Pretty sure she can’t just disappear in front of your eyes. It was probably just your mind playing tricks on you.” Renjun spoke as the three entered the staff room now two having heard him.

“No you don’t get it. It had to be her. Her face was the same, just a little more mature. She wasn’t wearing the uniform and her hair… It looked freshly dyed. Green it was green.” Jeno tried describing what she’d looked like. Everyone tensed up at the mention of their past uniforms they’d been forced to wear day in day out.

“Jeno, when was the last time you slept?” Mark spoke up for the first time in the conversation, his voice only hinting at concern from where he sat at the desk, paperwork long forgotten now.

“That doesn’t matter right now Mark. I saw her.” Jeno shook his head in distaste for what Mark was trying to do. He was using his lack of sleep against him as some form of evidence that he’d seen wrong.

“Mark’s right. This has happened before Jeno. When you have long periods of time without rest you start seeing her.” Jaemin pointed out trying to dull down the small hope that flickered in his chest at the thought of her managing to escape.

“No, not you too. Look, yes I haven’t slept in a while but this is different. It’s different this time and I know it was her. She looked so…” Jeno stopped defending himself in favour of rubbing his hand down his face. Struggling to find the words he was looking for to describe Y/n.

“It looked as if she saw right through me, I know for a fact that’s impossible she’d recognise me in a heartbeat no matter how different I look just how I recognised her.” He continued on hand returning to run through his hair, evident of stress in his actions.

“If it really was her. She would have approached you Jeno. Y/n… she’s not here.” Donghyuck denied his words, hands clenching hard around the retro game boy. Silence enveloping the room.

All seven wished she was in fact here in Seoul. But the most likely option was that she was still stuck at the facility. Alone. Being tested on like a lab rat. The one who didn’t get away, who did not escape.

“And if it was her? We just sit here? Let her walk around Seoul alone?” Jeno asked out, the slim chance of it being her.

“Stop. Just stop Jeno. She’s still stuck in that goddamn facility doing god only knows what to her. You don’t get to go around talking to us, giving us hope she’s out. Not when you’re the first one who decided we needed to leave without her.” Jaemin bursted, voice full of anger as he stood up now making his way towards his friend.

Though Jeno beat him to it cross the room to grab at Jaemin’s black vest tugging him harshly, fists tight against the material.

“Shut up. You know nothing! I tried to wait. If we had waited any longer none of us would have been able to leave that hell hole. If I hadn't spoken up we would all still be there being poked, proded, beaten and tested on.” Jeno nearly growled into Jaemin’s face.

“Enough!” Mark all but yelled out clearly frustrated as much as the others swiftly making his way over hand placed on top of Jeno’s giving him a stern look. Jeno not giving in, hands still tight against Jaemin’s clothing.

“Don’t forget Jaemin I may have said it, but we all were thinking it. We were desperate. In the end we all made the choice.” His voice, still loud but no longer held as much anger.

Jaemin stared Jeno down for a few seconds before looking away, choosing wisely to keep quiet on his words. His stomach was tightening with guilt, one he’d carried for two years now. One they all carried.

Jeno held back a scoff from Jaemin’s silence letting go of him but didn’t give anyone the chance to speak again as he stormed out of the room.

“I’ll talk to him. I’ll bring him back to the apartment and try to get him to sleep.” Renjun offered, patting both Jaemin and Mark on the shoulders as he went past and through the doorway following their pink haired friend.

“What about the calendar?” Chenle called out, causing everyone to look over at him.

“It stays up!” Renjun called back out loudly.

“Not the time Chenle.” Mark told him off lightly, shaking his head as he made his way over towards the desk again.

“When will it ever be the time? I still think we should get rid of the-” Chenle tried to continue his ideas but Jisung shoved him down against the blue couch and layed on top of him, cutting him off.

“Not the time.” Jisung butted in but let out a choked noise when Chenle wrapped his arm around Jisungs throat and the other hand went to Jisung’s head aggressively messing up his hair.

The two, messing around now on the couch, a leg flying out causing Donghyuck to duck, now focused on playing the level on his retro game boy again. Jaemin watched them but wasn’t in the mood to mess around or play games, deciding to make his way over to where Mark was.

Watching his friend continue the paperwork briefly before gazing over at the monitor next to them on the desk that monitored all the security cameras around. About to look away until something caught his eye.

Moving to sit beside Mark on the other gaming chair leaning forward, eyes squinting slightly at the monitor. Specifically on the back exit camera. Shifting in his seat when he was sure what he was seeing, a hooded figure standing there perfectly in frame. As if wanting to be caught on camera on purpose.

“You okay Jaemin?” Mark’s question caused Jaemin to whip his head towards Mark blinking dumbly for a second before nodding as he stood up.

“Uh yeah, yeah I’m good. I’m just gonna start locking up. I think it’s a good idea for us all to get out early today.” Jaemin thought up on the spot.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. I think we should make it a long weekend too. Keep closed tomorrow and reopen on Monday.” Mark decided thinking all of them needed a small break.

“Yeah great, I’ll be back soon.” Jaemin rushed his words out, turning towards the door to make his way towards the back exit.

Mark watched, his eyebrows scrunching slightly at Jaemin’s hasty exit but chalked it up to him just wanting to leave after what happened with Jeno a few minutes ago. His attention turned to the three left once he heard a thump, Chenle and Jisung now rolling on the floor together.

Mark letting his eyes shut inhaling through his nose trying to have one moment of peace before he’d have to try and break up whatever the two were bickering about now.

Jaemin made his way towards the back, slipping through the side door quietly, eye’s trying to focus on the new darkness surrounding him as it was night now and dark compared to previously inside.

The figure was still there standing still. Jaemin rolled his shoulders back as he spoke loud enough for the hooded figure to hear.

“Who are you? We are closed as of current. Tomorrow as well, come back on Monday during our normal opening hours.”

The figure turned towards him, yet because of the setting it was too dark to see the face that was hidden behind the hood the figure wore. His eyes squinted once again to try making out any detail.

“Do you understand what I just said?” Jaemin asked out yet the figure stayed silent causing warning bells to go off in his head. He’d hoped it was just some teenager due to the height of the person but now all he could think about was the fact the facility could be closer to them then he thought.

Before he could question further the figure finally did something. They turned around to face away from him. Taking a second to start walking away. Jaemin staying still watching the figure slowly leave cautiously wondering why they hadn’t responded and took their time to watch him before taking their leave.

As the figure went to turn the corner they walked under a street light, a small piece of hair sticking out of their hoodie being caught by the light. Green. It was green.

Jaemin’s heart dropped to his stomach connecting the dots fast as he remembered Jeno’s rambling from earlier.

“Wait! Y/n!” He yelled out, his tone bordering desperation.

The figure stalling for a millisecond in their walk but it was enough for him. It was enough for the hope to reignite in him as his body moved, shoes hitting the pavement underneath him heavily to chance her.

Y/n hearing his footsteps easily, racing past the corner as quick as she could causing him to call out once more. Skidding past the corner himself too, stopping in confusion once he came up blank. No one nearby.

“No.” Jaemin whispered hands going up to his head before shaking it off racing down the street taking a few turns that his gut wanted him to take. Almost deciding to stop the chase until he caught a hooded figure pass into an alley. Jaemin racing in the direction once again.

Entering the alley he stopped at the sight in front of him. The hooded figure taking a leap at the fire stairway that was suspended a few feet up in the air. Their hands catching the bottom of the metal ladder pulling their weight upwards.

“Just wait!” Jaemin yelled out making his way towards the ladder attempting to grab at it only to curse out when a boot made contact with his hand preventing him from climbing up with them.

Jaemin’s body fell down onto the dirty alleyway floor as he looked upwards watching the figure climb further up the ladder before disappearing over the ledge of the building's roof.

His hand moving to cradle his other injured hand, the hit wasn’t anything to worry about and would be fine by morning. His gaze lingered in the last spot he’d seen the figure, jaw clenching. He knew he had not been sleeping well either, just like Jeno, but this couldn’t have been a hallucination.

He didn’t want it to be a part of his mind playing tricks on him.

A few buildings was all that Y/n thought was enough to be deemed a safe distance away. Taking a few steady breaths in as she slowly pulled her hoodie down. Her breath catching in her throat, not from being winded from the sudden running but having seen his face.

Na Jaemin even in just two years had matured, taller and looked healthy.

“You’re closed tomorrow on a Friday? Good. I’ll see you soon boys.” Y/n spoke to herself eyes sharp, face highlighted from Seoul’s lights in the city at night, neon green shining against her.

Prologue || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @rotinyzen @wonyoungmywife @snflwrhaerecs4u

(If you want to be tagged in my Nct Dream writing comment, inbox or message me)

Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed. Don’t forget likes, reblogs and comments are always encouraged and help keep writers like myself motivated to continue our stories.

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[cursedbyastro]

beauty/attractiveness, style, & where to look in astrology

TROPICAL chart ruler the chart ruler in your chart can point to the general aura or vibe you give off which and the energies that can affect how the energy your ascendant gives of

for example, since i am a leo rising, my chart ruler is the sun. in my chart, my sun is in the 5h

venus, it's placements, sign, and aspects venus is the planet of beauty, charm, grace, and harmony. when it comes to appearance, venus is said to influence our aesthetic preferences, the way we present ourselves, and often how we look. this doesn't mean that venus entirely determines physical characteristics like height or bone structure, but it does suggest that venus influences how we beautify ourselves and what we perceive as attractive.

for example, my scorpio venus squares my leo ascendant which shows that my secluded scorpio venus aesthetic clashes with my leo’s bold aesthetic to be seen

ascendant and aspects to it including degrees of course your rising sign is the basis of your physical appearance. aspects to the ascendant and even the degree of your rising can give more insight into your appearance and how it might be expressed and should be considered first. degrees can be important. i have notice that the 5°, 9°, 14°, & 23° can be expressed as beautiful, which i will explain in further post

for example my leo rising is at 14° which gives my leo rising a taurean nature to it making it more luxurious, seductive, grounded, & sensual

1h placements the 1st house, also known as the ascendant or rising sign, is the house of self. the 1h represents the physical body, awakening consciousness, the image one presents to the world, and the initial impact one has on others. just like the sign of the ascendant, any planets that are located in the 1h have an immediate, visible influence on your personality, physical characteristics, and image/vibe you give off.

for example, my mom has a 1h stellium with the moon. pluto, venus, and mars in her 1h. (whew) this can show not only that her appearance is beautiful and everyone notices (venus), but also her appearance can transform (pluto) during emotional waves (moon). this can also indicate that she is fierce and intimidating to others on first appearance as well. (mars/pluto)

persona charts specifically the ascendant and it's ascendant persona charts are my favorite. a persona charts is an in depth view of a luminary, planet, or asteroid. the natal chart itself is a persona chart for the sun. you can find persona chart’s for your ascendant, venus, and the aphrodite asteroid (1388) for an indepth look at how your physical appearance might manifest. aphrodite and venus both can point to how your physical body and beauty will manifest. the ascendant persona chart will show you not only your physical appearance and characteristics on a deeper level, but also a deeper look into your conscious world, how you look/react with different emotions and states, how others see you, etc. in my opinion the ascendant persona chart is one of the most important persona charts to look at.

for example, my natal chart ascendant is in leo but my ascendant persona chart ascendant is in virgo. therefore, i come off as more reserved, polite and smart than the typical leo rising. i have the features of a leo, but also the features of a virgo. i look very sophisticated and classy with a clean cut presence. at first i might approach things in a virgo way-taking sometime to analyze and think it through, then after i feel comfortable you will begin to tackle it in that confident leo way.

prominent beauty asteroids asteroids can help to add more detail and support to our charts with their different energies when used in moderation (i personally use only orbs of up to 4). these asteroids, specifically asteroids linked to beauty/attractiveness, when touching important points/planets/luminaries in your chart, can affect your appearance and aura and also make them prominent in your chart as a whole. it is also a good idea to take a look at persona charts of these asteroids to get a deeper look at their energy.

beauty degrees according to degree theory and some concepts for numerology, the degrees 5, 9, 14, & 23 can be seen as “beauty degrees” the 14° is ruled by taurus, which is ruled by venus. the number 5 is seen as good looking in numerology. because of this, numbers like 23, which add up to be 5, can be seen as an attractive/beauty degree as well. i have also found the 9° to be a beauty degree not only because it’s number of completion or the highest level of something, but also its connection to sagittarius/jupiter. jupiter expands and grows. so, if these degrees are in personal planets/points such as the ascendant (asc), midheaven (mc), sun, moon, venus, and mars or a planet in the 1h, it can symbolize attractivenes

dominant planets & signs and also stelliums with stelliums, the stellium's ruling planet is usually the dominant planet in your chart. dominant planets do affect your personal appearance.your dominant planet and sign can significantly influence your personality and potentially even your physical appearance. the dominant planet/sign is the planet/sign that is most strongly represented in your birth chart, and the dominant sign holds the most influence..

when it comes to appearance, we mainly look at the 1h placement, ascendant, and its chart ruler as the primary influencers. however, the dominant planet and sign can add nuances or further influence the overall impression one gives off. stelliums can also change the vibe you give off because of the abundance of a certain type of energy in one sign/house.

for example, if your dominant planet is mars, regardless of your ascendant, you may have a dynamic and strong presence, perhaps with athletic tendencies or a somewhat assertive or competitive demeanor even if the sign is in a less aggressive and upfront sign

VEDIC the 2h in conjunction with the things I have mentioned above like the chart ruler and ascendant sign, in vedic astrology, the 2nd house, also known as the dhana bhava, rules over a majority of the face features. The 2h can indicate the general appearance, facial features, and expressions of an individual. this only applies to the 2h in your vedic chart.

however, it's important to consider the entire birth chart and the specific placements of planets in order to gain a better understanding of your physical appearance in

this is all for today, but today is the beginning of the beauty series, an astrology overview of different versions of beauty/attractiveness and where to look. i will try to update on this series weekly, so make sure to keep up to day with the masterlist. tell me below how this post resonates with you and comment feedback as well. as always, luv yall and be safe. until next time. ♥

© 2022 cursedbyastro all rights reserved

[fl3shm4id3n]

Bₑᵢₙg ₐ ₛₚᵢdₑᵣ Gₒₜₕ ₐₙd dₐₜᵢₙg ₕₒbᵢₑ Bᵣₒwₙ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀ ᴘᴜɴᴋ/ʜᴏʙɪᴇ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀ ɢᴏᴛʜ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: goth and punk culture, mentions of religion, kissing, couples doing couple stuff.

A/N: I needed to refresh my memory on some things, so I looked up like two things. I hope you like this.

Masterlist

You're a Spider woman from Earth- 666 (See what I did there), just like every Spider Man and Woman, you got bitten by a radioactive spider and you had then become Spider Woman, also known as Spider Goth.

Even before you were a Spider Woman, you were a Goth, since you were younger, you had a huge interest in the Goth culture and now you were a full goth, plus Spider Woman.

Not long after, you were a part of the Spider Society, you were invited in by Miguel and that's how you met your boyfriend, Spider Punk, also known as Hobert/Hobie Brown.

Hobie already had an interest in you as soon as he saw you, in your Spider Goth suit, also when he heard your name 'Spider Goth' it was obvious to him that you were a goth in and out of your suit.

He had heard of Goths and how they were somewhat similar to Punks. You and Hobie got a long from the start, then you both began to date. You dated in secret since you didn't like that much attention. Specially being from two different universes and stuff.

You and your boyfriend share a lot in common, you both liked music, dark aesthetic and had almost the same beliefs.

Since you wear makeup under your mask, Hobie is impressed by it. He likes how your makeup goes against beauty standards. He liked how different it is.

If you want to experiment on him, he'll let you, what he really liked is when you apply eyeliner on his waterline and proceed to make the pencil liner messy around his eye. He also wouldn't mind wearing black lipstick.

Also, if one of your favorite colors is Pink or any kind of soft color, Hobie isn't the kind of person to tell you that 'You're not a real Goth' for liking pink, he knows that being a goth/punk is more than just style. If anyone tells that you're not a goth for liking pink or any other non dark color. They're getting their ass chewed by him. (Also, If you're a goth who liked pink, you're still a goth :) )

He is a fan of your hair, if you have a tendency to dye it and style it. He has seen the many times you had changed your hair color and how you'd style it. If you want to cute your hair or try a new look, he'd help you.

You both have similar music tastes, but also share other kinds of music with one another. You really got him into The Cure, Joy Division and Los Prisioneros. Hobie got you into Sex Pistols, The Clash, and U.K. Subs. You and him had made a mixtape together in which you listen for hours and hours.

One thing that Hobie noticed was how you'd wear a Rosary and an Ankh. When he asked about it, you explained that the rosary represents the rejection of conservatism and is a way to mock the fakeness of religion (I think). As for the Ankh, you told him what the symbol means. Which means the Symbol of Life. You also wore them because they looked cool to wear.

When you both have nothing to do at Headquarters, you'll both go to an under ground Goth Club from your universe. Hobie has been to goth clubs before back in his universe, but he seems to like the clubs he goes with you. That's were he met your other goth friends.

Since you're both a private couple, you're not a fan of PDA, so you do that lovy dovy stuff alone together. You'll give each other looks and hold each other's pinkies in public, but in private, you'll be smooching and cuddling for hours.

When it comes to a mission, if you get hurt or nearly die, Hobie is worried AF. He doesn't care if you both are being watched by the others, he'll pull you into a tight hug and asks if you're okay. He could not lose you too, he had already began to love you more than anything.

[letsatomicbanana]

About to get a little 'sappy' for a brief moment but i'll forever adore the progression of Mye's/Comyet's art over the years, or just her art style as a whole (as someone who saw that evolution myself). It's just, her art is so fucking cool man, i would personally describe it as an extremly perfect combination of old french art (1500/1600's tapestries; 1920's illustrations; etc..), christian ethiopian manuscripts, ancient egyptian artworks (which is a perfect example of stylization) and different types of french/european art movements (like Expressionism, Fauvism, Impressionism...). There's this very distinct visual identity that deeply reminds me of the artworks of Lorenzo Mattotti and Brecht Evens, a clash between a colorful yet messy but also an organized composition. Honestly, if Mye's artwork were to be an animated feature film, it would mostly resemble the movie Wolfwalkers and other works alike (Song of the sea; The secreat of kells, etc...).

About movie comparisions, something i love to notice is how her art tackles themes commonly found in Studio Ghibli films, like the interest in depicting a distinct cultural experiencie through the representation of nature and common life elements (cottagecore for example. It seems to be one of Mye's favourite aesthetics) and immersive realism (a form of story teeling that uses both fantasy and realism elements). There's a very unique and enigmatic feeling to it, but also themes of humanism and it's sensibilities, which is the philosophy that highlights a certain importance on humans and their individualism, focusing on ideas of freedom and empowerment as well as seeing nature as an extension of self. The distinguishing factor of Myebi's artworks is its portrayal of nature and fantasy and the positive romanticisation of the ordinary, in my personal opinion.

Anyways, here is some of my favourite works of her. (All art belongs to/can be found on @myebi )

(colors and shapes go brrrrr..)

[andromedastarrs]

Hey i have a request what would be the type of partner for miguel o’hara ? Thanks if you write this

Miguel O'Hara's Type (S/O) - SFW Headcanons

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Hey Anon!! You're my very first Anon lol this is so very exciting for me, I hope you enjoy my headcanons for Mr.O'Hara's type!!🤞💙❤️

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Miguel doesn't date people for the way they look - so if you're hoping for him to look your way because you're conventionally attractive you're outta luck.

What I mean by this is that he's definitely more of the type to look at someone's actions/inner beauty.

I think Miguel likes individuals that are independent, financially and whatnot. I don't picture him as the type to enjoy babying (I mean this as in taking care of everything for them lol) his partner. However that does NOT mean that he doesn't enjoy getting them gifts and helping them out when they need it.

I think he'd want his partner to be patient. It's no secret that he can be explosive when angry and can sort of act like there's a switch in his head when it comes to his emotions, so having someone that is naturally patient is something that he would definitely look for.

I think he'd look for someone who has different interests/hobbies than him. I feel like he gets bored easily, so having an S/O that has interests he knows little about would peak his curiosity and would sorta act like brain food?? Does that make sense?

In general he would look for someone who is the tender opposite of him, tender meaning that you'd have to be different enough to be interesting but not too different to where you guys have clashing opinions on absolute everything.

Miguel is noooooooot into excessive public PDA, so he'd look for someone who shares that same opinion as him. He doesn't mind hand holding, making each other laugh in public, etc, but he will absolutely never do anything raunchy in public-

Doesn't like pessimistic people.

He'd look for someone who puts effort into their hygiene and general public appearance. AGAIN he is not into people just for their looks, but he IS into people who care about how they present themselves. Does that make sense?? Like he doesn't care if you're Goth, Emo, Coquette, "Basic", etc - he'd be into any aesthetic as long as his partner smells nice and has a cohesive look. (I tried my best to explain but hopefully you get the pic.)

Definitely not into lazy people or people who lack life goals- he wants someone who has a reason to keep going at it in life. Also... don't make him your reason to keep going, he wants you to be independent of him, remember?

I think he'd like people who are into skincare because I headcanon that he's into that 😭🙌. No this does NOT mean he is only looking for someone with clear skin, people can have good skincare routines and still have acne, etc.

He'd look for someone who accepts his past obviously. Also I say this because I think that his backstory is something that's gonna have him traumatized till the end, meaning that idk how he'd feel about kids with his S/O...is it just me that thinks he wouldn't be into it? I think he'd be too scared of losing either you or the possible kid, so instead he'd rather avoid having them again.

(On that note, if you are someone who wants kids I think he'd slowly, but genuinely consider it. He'd probably go to therapy to make sure he's in the right headspace as well.)

Is it a controversial headcanon to say that I don't think Miguel would look for a specific gender to date? I think he'd just genuinely look for a connection.

He'd look for someone who's an early bird like him, he wants to wake up around the same time as his S/O. However I don't think this applies to bedtime, since he has work to do and probably stays up late, he wouldn't wanna hurt his S/O's physical health.

Sorry guys I do not think Miguel likes pets, I think he likes his home tidy and clean. I think he'd lose a sense of control after everything that happened to him, and having a clean home gives him back some sense of control of his life. Maybe a few years into the relationship (after you've moved in) he'd be ok with pets but definitely not at the start.

Also, just because he doesn't want pets doesn't mean he isn't good with animals.

He'd look for someone who is a foodie, I think Miguel is one himself, so he'd look for someone that has the same eating habit of trying new foods. He'd also want this because I think he'd like making them try out recipes. :')

He'd look for someone who doesn't mind quiet days where the both of you barely talk but enjoy each other's presence.

It's no secret that Miguel has an erratic schedule, so he'd love to find someone with a very flexible schedule so that they could always make time for eachother. :')

Unless you are genuinely mature for your age (21+ acting/behaving 26+, don't be weird, thanks) I don't think he'd go for someone significantly younger than him. 🤞Also I think him being 27 makes sense but idek how old this man is because I can't find a certain answer anywhere.

He'd look for someone who can make him laugh. 🥹 He needs more happiness in his life.

On that note he definitely likes people that are optimistic and happy, people who just radiate warm energy. People that are genuinely kind.

Does not like people who try to purposely annoy him, sorry folks.

Also, yes he's handsome. But I headcanon that he wouldn't want someone who's just into him because of the way he looks. And he can always tell.

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Actually could we put some light on the class difference clash epel is experiencing in school. The situations looks a little weird to me. Cuz in epel's robes vignette it starts with the other pomefiore students asking him about carpet brand preference and he has no idea what to answer. They end up having a misunderstanding that never clears up. Epel proceeds to make a table manner mistake which Rook helps cover up with a lie so epel won't be embarassed (rook can probably sympatise) while vil is more strict. It is in this vignette we see that instance of vil first making epel lie about his favorite food for unclear, debated reasons.

In Epel's labwear vignette we hear some of the NPC students whisper about him and they seem to be asuming he must also be from some rich family due to the clothes he wears (which vil gave to him and makes him wear) and maybe also because he's in pomefiore. I know that it's just like vil to give people clothes he thinks will fit them best,and some of it might be so epel blends in pomefiore better, but could Epel actually be more likely to get picked on if he was perceived as from a lower class? NRC is a prestigious boarding school but it's not like he's the only character with more...average circumstances. Compared to the literal royalty and celebrity attending.

[Referencing this post!]

Mmm... I mean, aren't the mobs (in the Labwear vignettes) already bullying Epel because they perceive him to be of high social status? I don't think it would make a difference if they knew he was of a low social status since the mobs were already bullying him (again, under the impression that he's rich) to begin with. What I'm saying is that bullying would have occurred regardless of Epel's socioeconomic status. It's not necessarily nice, but it seems to be the norm for NRC students to verbally bash one another.

I don't really recall other major or frequent instances of middle class (Trey, Jack, Ace) or low-income students (Ruggie, Deuce) in the main cast being bullied. In fact, Trey and Ruggie are pretty well-liked and respected within their own dorms despite not being as wealthy as the majority of their peers are. (In this post, I go over how roughly 75% of the main cast come from at least upper middle-class backgrounds.) The bullying seems to be centered mainly on Epel, and I think that's probably because his peers perceive him as being small and cute--and therefore delicate, meek, and easy to push around. Epel just seems like the ideal target from a quick glance. Notice how B-kun comments on Epel’s face first:

I think it's also worth noting which dorms the bullies in Epel's Labwear vignettes come from: B and C are from Savanaclaw, and A is from Pomefiore. Savanaclaw mobs are notoriously belligerent and are usually the go-to mobs to pick fights with their peers for what are very minor things. The Pomefiore mob bully seems to be an outlier; most other Pomefiore mobs, at least as depicted in Epel's Ceremonial Robes vignettes, are polite and refrain from this type of behavior.

Importantly, (Savanaclaw) C is the one that calls Epel a “little rich brat” and (Pomefiore) A says Epel is “daddy’s fancy little lad”. This wording makes both sound resentful of the rich, thinking them spoiled—so it makes me think maybe A, B, and C are actually not rich themselves and are the less privileged picking on someone they think is wealthy but unable to stand up for themselves.

Now, within Pomefiore itself, it does appear that many of its students are upper class or at least sticklers for appearances. Their knowledge of brands and aesthetics itself is not damning evidence (anyone of any class could know this too; there’s also lots of non-rich people who obsess over brands). However, the fact that all of Epel’s first year peers already seemed familiar with how to handle a full set of cutlery at a formal meal does indicate high socioeconomic status, as the common man would not know how the heck a salad dork differs from the fish fork. (Most people use 1 fork or 1 spoon for the entire meal, and forget about having courses.) Buuut we shouldn’t assume that this one vignette is representative of all Pomefiore students, just as we cannot assume the one mean Pome A is a good example of all Pomefiore students, since there are limitations with the game. (Another famous game limitation is all Savanaclaw mobs being beastmen and every other dorm having zero beastmen mobs; in the manga, we see humans in Savanaclaw and beastmen in Heartslabyul. Riddle also verbally confirms that Heartslabyul has a cat beastman in the second Beans Day event.)

I think there’s definitely intersectionality at play as well. There’s something to be said for a culture clash in addition to a clash of classes. Epel is the only one in the main cast from a decidedly rural area where there isn’t much to do (ie no brand name shops) and everyone is close and casual with one another (ie there is little in the way of formalities). This likely contributes to the disconnect between Epel and his Pomefiore peers.

Now, where is this all leading to? Am I claiming that bullying based on socioeconomic status doesn't happen at NRC? Of course not! I have no doubt that it happens, but I don't think it's specifically the rich-on-poor type. In Epel's case, it seems to be the poor-on-(perceived to be) rich kind, but the opposite also occurs (in book 1, Riddle insults Yuu's pitiful education, something which is typically associated with the lower class; magic and magic education in particular is associated with the upper class). And, of course, we have the middle ground of people of similar socioeconomic status going at each other (for example, Leona and Malleus's rivalry). What's sort of sad is that the environment at NRC is conducive to animosity and no adults ever intervening because: 1) the students are so prideful, who would actually have the guts to tell an authority figure they were being picked on? and 2) the students tend to try and retaliate or get into fights instead, which only escalates the situation.

At NRC, I get the impression that class is one thing you could get bullied for, but that power and/or connections are much more important factors. Let's revisit Ruggie, who is the most impoverished of the main cast. If we assume that the less well-off students are predominantly the ones who get picked on, then shouldn't we have many examples of Ruggie being bullied? But he isn't. In fact, the big, burly Savanaclaw mobs (who are known to be combative) seem to defer to him instead of bullying him. Leona even leaves Savanaclaw in Ruggie's care while he is away in book 6, fully expecting that the mobs will listen to Ruggie. Why? Well, Ruggie is not physically or magically strong, but he has Leona's backing. It's through this association with the powerful Leona that Ruggie gains the respect and the following of the others in his dorm. This is something we consistently see in other characters, including Epel's own dorm leader. Because Vil beats him in combat, Epel agrees to listen to what he says even if Epel dislikes it. We see mob students bend the knee to the main cast once they've gotten glimpses into their power or abilities (Leona versus the Savanaclaw mobs, Idia versus the Ignihyde mobs, each in their respective Dorm Uniform vignettes).

Circling back around to the concept of Epel being bullied! Would the Pomefiore mobs turn on him if they realize he's actually not wealthy? Maybe...? We don't really know enough about the individual personalities of the mobs to judge for ourselves. If they did bully Epel for that though... I feel like those mobs would be in for an ass whooping from Vil (and Rook) for being so petty, vindictive, and disregarding decorum. Vil can rub people the wrong way with his demanding and stern attitude (I'm one of those people sometimes), but he wouldn't stand for such "ugly" behavior. It sullies the good name of the Fairest Queen and the dorm made in her image that he oversees. Those are my thoughts on the topic! I apologize if I ended up straying a little from the initial ask (I felt like I wasn't even truly talking about Epel for half this post ashdbsadlbayw).