#I'm obsessing over that patch of white hair

[valkyrieromanoff]

Bad ideia right?: master!anakin x padawan!reader

synopsis: Sharing a room with your master didn’t seem like a bad idea, right? But when Anakin steps out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel hanging on his hips, things quickly spiral into uncharted territory. As the tension between you thickens and lines between duty and desire blur, you’re left questioning whether this might have been a very bad idea after all.

warning: master x padawan trope (sorry, power imbalance), inexperienced reader, dominant Anakin, handjob, practically only smut, almost no plot.

words: 1.8k

a/n: So... this idea came to my mind randomly with an edit of some character by Hayden Christensen, and, since I'm obsessed with Anakin, obviously, he was the chosen one. Anyway, I hope you like it, and thanks for the comments on James Kelly's oneshot, I'm working on a sequel. Kisses💖

𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏' 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂, 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕?

𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏' 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒊𝒕, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆

Sharing a room with your master hadn't seemed like a bad idea earlier in the night. After all, just hours ago, the two of you were shivering outside the small hotel, waiting for the Council to deliberate on whether it was even possible to send a rescue. The cold had bit through your robes, and with the Council's decision delayed, the promise of warmth had seemed worth the minor inconvenience.

Anakin, somehow, had managed to scrounge up a few credits, not enough for separate quarters but just enough to rent a single room. The thought of sharing didn’t raise any concerns, even though there was only one bed. It wasn’t all that different from the countless nights spent camping during missions, except that Master Kenobi or Rex usually are close by.

But now, sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped only in a loose shirt that barely skimmed your thighs, you were beginning to rethink that assumption. Your Jedi robes were draped neatly over a chair in the corner. You hadn’t packed any extra clothes, not imagining you'd need them, and as you sat there, nerves started to flutter in your chest.

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open pulled you from your thoughts, and your heart stuttered in your chest. Anakin stepped out, a wave of warm, humid air spilling into the room with him. His sandy, wavy hair was damp, droplets of water trailing lazily down his bare chest, across the defined muscles of his abdomen. Your eyes followed one particular droplet as it slid down his abs before disappearing into the white towel wrapped low around his waist.

Suddenly, sharing a room didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your gaze away. Anakin, always so sure of himself, caught your stare and flashed you a confident grin —one that was all too knowing. There was a flicker of something playful in his eyes, a dangerous spark that sent your pulse racing. He shook his head lightly, sending more water droplets flying, and the gesture felt so casual, so effortless, yet it left you completely unraveled.

"You like what you see?" Anakin’s voice was low, teasing, as he raised a brow in amusement. His tone, laced with flirtation, made your skin heat despite the chill that lingered in the air.

Your mind screamed at you to look away, to remember the boundaries between master and padawan, but your body betrayed you, rooted in place by the tension that now filled the small room.

For a split second, you saw hesitation in his eyes —just a flicker, like maybe even he knew he was crossing a line. But then, as if driven by some reckless need to push further, to test the limits, the towel slipped. It fell silently to the floor, landing in a small patch of undried paint that clung to the fabric.

Your breath hitched. The tension in the air thickened, the room suddenly feeling far too small, too intimate. Anakin stood there, unabashed, watching your reaction with that same infuriatingly smug look. Yet beneath that confidence, you could sense something else simmering —an unspoken desire, a question hanging in the air between you.

This definitely wasn’t a good idea anymore.

Your eyes widened, a sharp jolt of surprise and confusion surging through you. Never—not in your wildest dreams—had you imagined being in a situation like this. Anakin, your master, standing before you so naked in his glory. It felt surreal, as if reality had warped around you in that instant.

Instinctively, your gaze dropped lower before you could stop yourself, a glimpse of his half-hard cock. The realization hit you like a lightning bolt, and the heat flooding your face was immediate. A fiery blush crept up your cheeks, burning hot with a mix of shock and embarrassment.

Your hands flew to your face, palms pressing over your eyes as if you could erase the image, your heart hammering in your chest. "Force, what is happening?" you thought, breath catching in your throat. Your mind was a mess, struggling to reconcile the absurdity of the moment with the unwavering discipline you'd spent years mastering.

Behind your hands, you heard Anakin chuckle softly, his amusement only making the situation feel even more unreal. And still, beneath the embarrassment, there was something else stirring —something dangerous, something you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

“It’s okay, padawan. You can look.” he whispered, his voice soft. He wanted you to know that you could trust him, that you didn't need to feel ashamed or shy, he was your master after all.

You didn’t move. This isn’t right. It’s not the Jedi way, you reminded yourself, mentally reciting the Jedi Code you’d been trained to memorize, the one you’d sworn never to break. The words echoed in your mind like a lifeline, an anchor to the discipline you’d spent years being taught. But as the silence stretched between you, another part of you —one far more rebellious, one undeniably influenced by your master— began to stir. It grew louder, more insistent, gnawing at the edges of your resolve.

Anakin was waiting. You didn’t need to see him to know it. He was smiling—delighting in your hesitation, in the battle waging inside you. You could feel it, the way he reveled in your inner conflict, the tension thickening the air like an invisible thread pulling you toward him.

Your breath caught in your throat as you slowly lowered your hands from your face, fingers trembling just slightly. Your cheeks were still flushed, the heat of embarrassment lingering, but something else was there now too. Something that made your heart race, not out of shame but out of curiosity —of temptation.

Your eyelids fluttered shyly, hesitant, before you finally dared to meet his gaze. The moment your eyes locked with his, the smirk on his face widened ever so slightly, his confidence unshaken, even amused. He knew. He could see the crack in your defenses, the sliver of doubt that had taken root in your mind.

And the worst part? A part of you didn’t want to stop it.

“This is for you,” Anakin said, holding his hardened cock with his flesh hand, his voice low and husky, each word dripping with unspoken desire. There was a tension in his tone, thick and electric, the kind that made the air between you feel charged. His gaze was locked on yours, darkened with the intensity of his emotions, and you could feel the weight of it —how deeply you affected him, how you turned him on.

He wanted you to know. To feel the way the mere sight of your flushed face stirred something primal within him, something dangerous and raw. It was as if a storm had begun to brew in his chest, the pull of his desire rising like a tide, ready to drown both of you. The restraint he usually held was crumbling, like a volcano on the verge of eruption, and the way his breath hitched, just slightly, told you that it was taking everything he had to hold it back.

And yet, he didn’t. His words, his gaze—they were a confession in themselves. This was all for you.

The intensity of Anakin's gaze left you breathless, your body trembling in anticipation. You could feel your own arousal building, the heat between your legs growing more insistent with each passing second.

He waited for your response, his eyes never leaving yours, as if daring you to take what he offered. Your hand trembled slightly as it reached out to meet him, your fingers brushing against his hardened length.

He let out a soft groan, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. The sound felt a shiver down your spine, the power you held over him a heady intoxication. You wrapped your hand around him, feeling the heat radiating from his cock, the veins that pulsed beneath your touch.

He watched you, your hands tentatively exploring him, your eyes wide and curious. He loved the way you looked, the way you felt. He wanted to teach you everything, to show you how to please him, how to make him feel good.

Anakin's fingers intertwined with yours, his hand covering yours as he showed you the rhythm he preferred. "Like this, Padawan," he whispered, his voice a soothing murmur against your ear. "Gentle, but firm."

You followed his lead, your hands moving in unison, your strokes slow and deliberate. Anakin's breath hitched, his eyes fluttering closed as you began to find your rhythm.

"It's different," you admitted shyly, your fingers still slightly clumsy around his hardened cock. You bit your lower lip, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Am I doin’ right?" you asked nervously, your gaze meeting his.

Anakin's lips curved into a smile, the warmth in his eyes unmistakable. "Yes, padawan, you're doing just fine," he reassured you, his voice thick with desire. "Just like that.

You continued to stroke him, your movements more confident now. Anakin's body began to tense, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “faster” he whispered, his voice urgent.

He could feel his orgasm building, could feel his body tensing. Anakin watched you, your eyes wide and trusting, your hands moving faster, your fingers slick with his pre-cum. He loved the way you looked, the way you felt. He loved the way you made him feel.

"Oh, Padawan," he moaned, his voice a low, guttural sound. "I'm going to come."

With a shuddering breath, he did,  his orgasm hitting him like a freight train.  He came in your hand, his seed spilling hot and thick over your fingers, his body shuddering as the waves of pleasure washed over him.

Anakin leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead as his release ebbed away. “Good girl, padawan” he whispered, his breathing gradually returning to normal. “You did so good.” he said, his voice soft.

You stood there, bathed in the lingering warmth of the moment, your eyes flickering to your hands. Your fingers were coated in the thick, milky substance of his release. "It's sticky," you murmured, your voice tinged with innocent curiosity as you stared at your fingers. You shyly pulled them away, a thin line of cum stretching between two delicate fingers.

Anakin watched you, his eyes dark with desire and a hint of mischief. "Let me help you with that," he said, his voice low and husky. He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. "It's only fair that you clean it up, Padawan."

You looked up at him, your eyes wide with surprise. "Clean it?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Anakin nodded, his thumb brushing against your fingers, smearing the cum slightly. "With your mouth," he suggested, his gauze locked onto yours. "It's only fitting, don't you think?"

You hesitated for a moment, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. But the thought of tasting him, of pleasing him in this intimate way, feels a shiver of anticipation down your spine. 

Slowly, you brought your fingers to your mouth, your tongue darting out to lick the sticky substance from your skin. Anakin's breath hitched as he watched you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You did so good, padawan. I'm so proud of you.” he whispered, his voice soft. 

[wavelikewhat]

Bend It Like Mingyu

Pairing: Professional Soccer Player!Mingyu x reader (any pronouns)  Summary: It all started the day Mingyu ruined your picnic with his stupid soccer ball. Ever since then, he keeps showing up everywhere. Why won't he leave you alone?! Wordcount: 3.2k Content notes: extreme fluff, zero smut, Y/N's best friend is pregnant and later cares for the baby (baby is mentioned but not seen in the story) Genres/themes/appearances: enemies to lovers, super sweet and fluffy, Mingyu is very clumsy and very reliable, there's only one bed! (no smut), I am American so it is called soccer in the fic

"Watch out!" 

You looked up in alarm at the man's shouts, and not a moment too soon. A black and white ball was flying through the air aimed directly at your patch of sunshine. 

Reflexes kicking into action, you tossed your book aside and scrambled backwards just in time. The ball landed exactly where you had been sprawled across a blanket rereading your favorite book for the 26th time. 

You stood up and shook yourself off angrily, stalking over to where the book landed when you unceremoniously threw it from your hand. In your peripheral vision you noticed a man coming your way and you ignored him to let your rage build while you gathered your things to leave. He had officially killed the mood.

"I am so sorry!" a man's voice exclaimed from a few feet away. You spun on your heel, ready to unleash your anger, but instead you found yourself speechless as you gazed at the most beautiful man you had ever seen. The sunlight was shimmering all around him. 

Wait, no, the sunlight was reflecting off the sheen of sweat covering his bare arms and legs, visible beyond his loose tank and rather short shorts. He pushed his longish hair back from where it had covered his eyes. Your eyes tracked his hand as it moved.

You felt yourself start to lick your lips but you caught yourself. That's right, you were mad at this man! How dare he come to a public park and ruin a perfectly good day with an errant kick! Doesn't he know how to handle the ball?

"I'm really sorry," he apologized again.

You glared at him. For some reason your brain was having trouble forming a response. "Just try not to do that again," you said coldly before turning away to pick up your things.

…

"What did you end up doing yesterday?" your best friend Hani asked, taking a big sip of lemonade. She was craving a lot of lemonade these days.

"I went to the park," you replied, "but this annoying guy kicked a soccer ball right at me and totally ruined my vibe."

"That's so rude!"

"Thank you! That's what I thought!"

"Did he say anything?"

"He apologized. I think he was trying to say more but I just left."

Your friend laughed. "When we were seven years old you would have thrown a rock at him even if he apologized."

"You know what this is? Growth."

As you both giggled, you scanned the room with your eyes. Hani and her husband were hosting their baby shower, and all the friends and family crowding their house looked nearly as happy as the parents to be. You turned to look in the other direction and your jaw dropped.

"What is he doing here?!" you asked in shock.

Hani turned to look and a huge grin spread across her face. "Oh, it's Mingyu!" She waved enthusiastically and the man smiled as he walked toward them. Then he seemed to take in the person beside Hani… and he did a double take. You could only stare.

"That's right! You two haven't met!" Hani realized as she gave Mingyu as much of a hug as she could, given her belly. "Y/N, this is Mingyu. Mingyu, this is Y/N, my best friend who you have heard so many good things about!" 

She turned to look at you. "Mingyu is a professional soccer player, but he's been playing overseas for a few years. He just got traded to the team here in the city though! We're so excited to have him here," Hani added, giving him another hug. Who on earth was this man, and why was Hani so obsessed with him?! She was supposed to hate him in solidarity with you!

Fortunately, all that came out was "Professional soccer player?" in quite possibly the most skeptical voice you had used in your entire life. 

Mingyu at least had the decency to look sheepish. "It's true, you can look me up online!" he said defensively. Then he switched back to that infuriatingly warm smile. Two little canines popped out as he grinned. Ugh.

…

[Unknown Number] Y/N are you on the way to the hospital? [Y/N] who is this? [Unknown Number] Kim Mingyu [Unknown Number] Hani gave me your number in case of an emergency [Unknown Number] I guess that's what this is!

You scrunched your nose in annoyance. What was Hani doing giving your number to strange men?

You sighed and looked out the window of the taxi. You had to admit he wasn't a random man. He had really stepped up and helped out Hani and her husband over the last few months, even taking Hani to a few unexpected doctors appointments that her husband and you couldn't help with. You and her husband both worked on the other side of a bridge that was currently under construction, and traffic was getting crazier every day on the way back to the neighborhood where you all lived. Eventually he had started working from home because it was getting too close to Hani's due date. 

(By then, she was complaining to you every day that she felt like her baby might actually be a baby elephant. You didn't really think that part was a problem because baby elephants are super cute.)

Your phone buzzed again.

[Unknown Number] I'm waiting for you in the main lobby [Unknown Number] We can go up together when you arrive

You never even said if you were on your way to the hospital! You sighed. Ok, fine, he knew you were probably on the way to the hospital. Hani had texted you that they were on their way, and that she was turning her phone on do not disturb because she didn't want it to distract her. As soon as you saw the message, you got in a cab.

[Y/N] ok

Mingyu found you as soon as you walked in the hospital, just as he promised. He led you to the waiting room. You set down your things and stared at the chairs as if waiting for them to tell you what to do.

Mingyu interrupted your racing thoughts. "Should we sit down? Do you want a bottle of water? I have a couple here." He unzipped a gym bag, and you registered that he must have come directly from the gym because he was in loose sweatpants and a plain tee with a sheen of sweat giving him what could only be described as a beautiful natural glow. How unfair. When you went to the gym you did not look glowy.

He handed you a bottle of water and sat down opposite you, motioning with his hand that you should sit too. You did, opening the water and taking a sip for something to do.

For the next while, Mingyu kept up a mostly one sided conversation about a variety of topics you didn't follow at all. Your mind was on your friend.

"Are you okay?" Mingyu asked with concern.

You looked over at him. You didn't have any fight left in you. "I'm really nervous."

"I understand." He came to sit beside you. "My sister had a baby a few years ago. I was a nervous wreck. My mom had to hold my hand and calm me down!" He laughed a little, then he became serious again. "Is it okay if I hold your hand? It really helped me."

You gave him a small nod and he took your hand. Against all odds, his grip really was comforting. Then again, you had gotten to know him better over the last few months, and he seemed like a genuinely good guy who cared a lot for Hani and her husband and the baby.

He felt you leaning towards him, and he released your hand so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you against him. He moved his other hand to yours and squeezed. You felt yourself tearing up and closed your eyes. Suddenly you were relieved this man you barely heard about until recently was sitting next to you.

…

"Finally, we can have some adult time!" Hani whispered loudly as she shut the bedroom door and tiptoed towards you.

You and Mingyu shared a look on the couch. Hani had always been dramatic and theatrical, even as a kid, but she seemed sillier than ever to you now that she was supposedly a mature mother to an infant. Her husband finished washing dishes and joined her on the other couch.

The four of you agreed to put on a reality dating show with a ridiculous premise that kept going viral on social media. Might as well find out what the fuss was about! It was definitely entertaining, but before the second episode ended you drifted off and fell asleep.

When you woke up, you were lying down on the couch with your head on one of the fluffy pillows and a blanket draped across your body. You twisted to get comfortable and fall asleep again… and that's when you realized the pillow was in Mingyu's lap, and he was fast asleep with his head leaning back on the couch.

Doing your best not to wake him, you flew off the couch and grabbed your phone from the table. There was no way you could show your face in the morning knowing where you had just been. It was better not to think about it too much.

"Y/N!!" came a frantic whisper from behind you. You stopped and turned as Hani approached.

"Why are you up? Are you okay?" you asked, trying to change the subject before it was even broached.

"I was up to feed the baby. Every two hours, remember? Anyway, that's not the point. What is going on between you and Mingyu?!" she asked excitedly.

"Nothing! We just fell asleep. It was a long week."

"Fine. I believe you. But things seem different between you."

You couldn't help yourself. "How so?" you asked. The truth was, you felt like things were a little different, too. You and Mingyu had started texting after the baby was born, and sometimes you carpooled to hang out with Hani and her husband for a bit before they got tired. (Luckily you didn't carpool today.) 

The four of you had developed a special dynamic, but you would be lying if you said you didn't look forward to those car rides with Mingyu. Sometimes the two of you picked up takeout before going to see your friends, which meant spending twice as much time together as he picked you up from work or home before driving to a restaurant and Hani's place, then he drove you home afterwards. And sometimes you sat in the car chatting with him for quite a while instead of saying a simple goodbye and leaving.

"You and Mingyu seem like a good match for each other. I'm just saying… think about it. He's a great guy."

"I'll think about it," you replied, as if you weren't already going out of your mind wondering what he thought of you and if he thought things were different between you two and if he maybe just maybe was interested in spending some time with you on purpose instead of under the guise of hanging out with your friends during the precious 45 min after the baby falls asleep before the parents fell asleep too.

…

A few weeks after that conversation, you found yourself on the couch with Mingyu again as Hani and her husband checked on the baby. When Hani came out she spoke to the two of you. 

"Do you two want to use the guest room tonight? It's so rainy and I don't want you to drive in this weather. There's clean sheets on the bed and towels in the bathroom closet, and it's a king size bed so you won't even notice each other!"

It would be a miracle if you were in bed with Kim Mingyu and didn't notice him. That was simply impossible.

Before you had a chance to say anything, Mingyu spoke up. "Sure. Thanks, Hani."

"Excellent! We'll make you a big birthday breakfast, Mingyu!" Hani disappeared, claiming she was getting clothes for you and Mingyu to sleep in.

You looked at Mingyu in surprise, barely able to process the exchange. "It's your birthday tomorrow?"

"Yes," Mingyu admitted. "I've always been overseas so I didn't get to celebrate with anyone besides the team."

"We'll do something special for you," you said without thinking. Mingyu locked eyes with you, and his gaze felt heavy. It occurred to you that the two of you were about to share a not nearly large enough bed.

"Here you go!" Hani interrupted, dumping a pile of clothes into your arms. "Goodnight!" 

"Goodnight, Hani!" Mingyu said to her as she spun away with a mischievous glint in her eye. It was a good thing he had all his faculties available because you definitely did not. He led the way to the guest room, a room you had both clearly used many times, separately, but this was definitely going to be so different. You both knew where the spare toothbrushes were, and he offered the bathroom to you first. 

After you switched places between the bathroom and the bedroom, you slid into the side of the bed that didn't have his water bottle beside it. This was unreal. Now you know which side of the bed he preferred. It was the opposite of the side you liked. You prayed that the king size bed really was big enough not to notice him.

"Can I turn off the light?" Mingyu asked a few minutes later. He was in just a pair of gym shorts. You nodded in response. Your mouth had gone dry after seeing his bare chest, and arms, and stomach, and neck, and…

Mingyu slipped into the bed quietly and you heard him put his phone on the bedside table. You had turned on your side to face away from him. Out of sight, out of mind. Hopefully that strategy worked on his body. You thought of something else that could be on his body. (You.)

"Do you remember that day in the park?" Mingyu asked suddenly. 

You were so surprised to hear this that you turned toward him and opened your eyes in the dark. The two of you had never acknowledged the fact that you actually met one day before Hani introduced you to him.

"Of course I do," you replied. "Why?"

"I actually kicked my ball toward you on purpose," he admitted.

"WHAT!?" you exclaimed.

"Shh!" Mingyu whispered, and you felt his hand cover your mouth for a moment. Your breath caught in your throat until you were recovered enough to speak.

"I was so annoyed that day," you said, but more quietly. "That's why I was so stunned to learn you played professionally!"

"I meant to kick it to land near you, so I could strike up a conversation. A butterfly flew in front of my face while I was running up to the ball and it threw me off."

You giggled. You could picture his focused face converting to his excited face after he saw the butterfly, then it probably transformed to a look of fear after he realized the ball was not going to facilitate a meet cute.

Before you could comment, he went on. "You were so pretty that day, and I really wanted to know what you were reading that made you look so happy." He paused and you replayed his words in your mind.

"I think you're pretty every time I see you," he added. "And when I don't see you."

"Oh," you responded quietly. Even though this was a conversation you had been hoping for, it still caught you completely by surprise. Your mind was reeling.

"Could you tell me what you're thinking?" he asked. He sounded very close to you all of a sudden, but you didn't realize he had moved. He was speaking more softly than you had ever heard him.

"Me too," you said, which technically didn't make any sense at all given what he had revealed and what he just asked. He seemed to understand your meaning because he gathered you in his arms and gave you the sweetest, softest kiss. Then he turned to face away from you and drew your arm around him. You automatically tucked in close, against his back.

"Happy birthday," you whispered.

"Thank you," he replied, pulling your hand to rest on his heart.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Dabi being obsessed with his sister HC

Warnings: yandere personality, sibling x sibling, dubcon, just a reason to write out this scenario, dark content, very dark, mdni for your own safety, coercion, dabi being a lil tyrant, innocent goody hero!reader, yes sibling incest involved, again don’t read if you don’t like any of the tags, non canonical timeline obv, aged up!reader, dark content be ahead!, 18+ only, i really have no excuse for this 🤷🏽‍♀️

From the hair, Dabi knew right off the bat that you were one of the many Todoroki children; his sibling

What he didn’t anticipate was how much power you would have over him the moment you met his ice blue gaze

A morbid obsession forms in that instant

His signature crazed grin emblazoned on his face that makes you squirm uncomfortably. You’d heard that this villain, Dabi, was once your eldest brother Touya. This patched up monster couldn’t possibly be Touya. Even if you didn’t remember him much, his pictures looked nothing like the creature that stood before you amidst blue flames.

“You’ve certainly grown into a lovely young lady.” He practically cooes out with that husky voice of his. To force more distance between both of you, you lash out with your flame whips to get him back. White hot flames bite at Dabi but instead of hissing in pain, Dabi’s grin stretches wider. Like he was proud of you and your quirk. Where was your back up? You were strong but there was no way you were winning a fight against this seasoned villain.

You’re about to call out for Shoto who you were always paired with as twins were endeared by the public. Before you could even push the first syllable out of your mouth, Dabi moves in a flash and has his hand covering your mouth as he tackles you to the ground.

“Look at those pretty mismatched eyes.” He’s chirping while he paws at your face, turning it this way and that. You’re shocked still at his actions. He could have easily killed you then and there. But he didn’t. When your brain starts to work again, you use your fiery hot quirk to dispel him away from you. Your quirk was affecting him physically but Dabi didn't mentally acknowledge the damage that was eating away at what skin remained on his arms. Charring it until the flames even started to eat away at the leather stapled patches that were covering the previously damaged parts of his skin.

There wasn't much you were afraid of except for your father. But Dabi not reacting to the pain terrified you. What human didn't feel pain?

"Aw what's wrong baby sister? Do I scare you? Yeah I know I don't have much of a pretty face anymore." His hand rubs against his chin, thinking back to what age you must have been when he'd "died". "Rest assured though, I'm your big brother." Like that would make everything better. He was still speaking so sweetly to you.

Why wasn't anyone else showing up? You didn't like the hungry stare that refused to leave you.

You swallow back fear that hammered in your throat "Villain, stay where you are. You have the right to remain silent, but any villainy you commit can and will be used against you in the court of justice."

Dabi really laughs at that. "Oh you're cute." He holds out his wrists in surrender. "You gonna handcuff me Ms. Hero? I'm sure you'll become Japan's Number One Hero if you bring me in." Mockery drips off every word. He wasn't taking you seriously.

Finally you feel the stinging cold of Shoto's ice strike past you and toward Dabi. It was clear that he rushed all the way there. Behind him are the rest of the heroes assigned to the district.

With ease, Dabi dodges the icy spikes of Shoto's fury. He cocks his head your way. No matter what his eyes never strayed from you. "What do 'ya say, Ms. Hero? When you're ready, come find me."

He was gone, swift in his retreat.

His whole reason for being changed that day. The Paranormal Liberation Front had never really been his passion anyway. It was just his means of getting revenge against Endeavor. But he realized he could have his cake and eat it too.

[ennaku-sirri-da]

Me Vs. Apolloneeun Beauty-- A comic PART 2

[ A continuation of a fancomic revolving around a teenaged Dr.Habit from Smile For Me the game and Saint Sebastian, a Christian saint. The songs set to it are Hounds Of Love and Pretty Boy.

Panel 7: Habit reaches out his bandaged, scarred and shivering hand to the glass covering the painting. On the other side there is a symbolic vision of three hands reaching back- topmost is Kamal's hand, glowing with a blue light; below of an older Habit, with a heart patch stitched on his furry hand and with the bandages falling off, glowing with a yellow light; both Kamal and Habit's hands originate from the same point. At the bottom is Putunia's hand, the bandages falling onto her wounds, glowing with a red light. The space near all these hands blurs and distorts in the glass. The whole panel appears darker.

The lyrics to Hounds Of Love read:

Take my shoes off and throw them in the lake

And I'll be, two steps in the water

Panel 8: Finally reveals the painting which Habit has been looking at, which is the one of St.Sebastian by Guido Reni. It is a long picture encased in glass and framed in wood, towering over Habit. He runs his hands over the waist of the picture, we see him from the back. Bright yellow light pours out from the painting, and faintly, a pair of bleeding hands can be seen reaching out from behind it, as if to welcome.

The lyrics to Hounds Of Love read:

I found a fox

caught by dogs

He let me take him in my hands

His little heart,

it beats so fast

The lyrics to Pretty Boy ( written on a pink strip of paper at the bottom) read:

I'm obsessed I've never met someone like you

Panel 9: This panel is yellowed over. Habit holds the ball in one hand, the ball has been covered over with a lovestruck emoji sticker. He moves his hand down further to the thighs of the painting, blushing and biting his mouth, clearly flustered. He makes lip trilling noises, and giggles happily. Big pink and purple bouncy swirls are drawn around him.

The lyrics to Pretty Boy read:

We can play House

when we're together

The lyrics to Hounds Of Love, much smaller text size, read:

And I'm ashamed of running away

From nothing real

Panel 10: This panel has a pink tone. Habit buries his face in his hand, totally embarassed, punching a hole in the volleyball which deflates with a pwoosh noise. Pink waves start to form around him, as if he's in a sea of emotion. A huge thought bubble comes up, a cloud of pink and purple, with two big butterfly stickers, one labelled Ken in purple and the other Heather in pink. Small shiny stones dot the top of the bubble.

The lyrics to Pretty Boy read:

I can be Ken

You can be Heather

The lyrics to Hounds of Love read:

I just can't deal with this

I'm afraid to be there

Panel 11: Habit appears distressed now, looking down and fidgeting with his bobble ties so hard that one of the bobbles pops off and away. He frowns, constricting his body closer to himself. Here he is lined in thick dark marker to emphasise his discomfort. The waves around him are pink and blue now with white foam, becoming higher and crashing harder. Here, the lyrics to Hounds Of Love read:

Among the hounds of love

And feel your arms

surround me

The thought bubble has become a chaotic mass, shown by different bits of colored paper. They read, distorting the hook of Pretty Boy:

" I

Am(me?)

LIKE? Like? Like? Like?

WANT? Want? Want? Want?

!!!! A Pretty Boy !!!!"

The others are a collection of incoherent thoughts including screaming, surrounded by black scribbles.

Panel 12: The whole panel is bright and shining. Habits face is hidden by his hair. His broken green bobble bobs near the painting. He makes a decision, turning on his heel and running away, also throwing the volleyball at Saint Sebastian's painting. The paintings face now appears alarmed with large eyes. The volleyball accelerates with considerable force, streaking aggressively with a rainbow behind it. A piece of saffron cloth with gold tassels is placed near the image. There is a larger amount of flowers sprinkled over the page. Text in various colors, mostly pink and purple, spells out the ending of Hounds Of Love:

Oh, here I go!

Dont let me go

Hold me down

Its coming for me through the trees

I don't know whats good for me

I don't know whats good for me

Do you know what I really need?

I need

love

love

love

love.( The "love"s are written in rainbow)

yeah

Other text reads:" end". And an addition by Habit, as a throwback to the title, " Spoilers: I WIN!!! ">:-( ( angry emoticon with nose). End ID of comic]

END OF COMIC

Here's part 1

Notes under the cut!!

HEYY Welcome back!!

Panel 7: This one really punched me when I made it- I'll explain.

Basically he's reaching for the glass where the painting is framed- I put an effect on there - I don't know how clear it is-

This one's more personal as well. It's like

A whole thing is when he looks at St.Seb he's not sure whether he wants to BE a guy or just likes him or what

So, you know, "BE" a guy..that would be in the future...this is thinking about the future...thinking about all the possibilities just out of your reach.

Not sure what's there for you on the other side or whether you'll even get there at all.

But he does have a future and people who'll accept him..I don't know about mine, but I'm trying, yeah.

As for ~le hands~

It's completely intentional Habit is reaching the one with the exposed heart-patch out aha

His bandages falling off to tie around Putunia's wounds expresses something about their relationship that I can't really express clearly

And I made his and Kamals hands originate from the same point just to show they're close and have a history!!

The lines where Teen Habbys hands touch the glass become smudged like, to give a surreal effect...the other side, seems like a dream

Gave his hands some slight color at the end because even though he's hell of traumatised, there's still hope and life in him, even if he doesn't feel it

ALSO I realised both his and St. Seb's hands bleed so make of that what you will-- I love my parallels.

Panel 8: I am so warm right now OK here we go-

OK uh I used a real painting LOLs it's the one by Guido Reni

Cropped out the phallic shape because that'd be too awkward for me LMFAO- just saying in case you look it up anyway!!

I have to say one thing this whole energy is really gay WHATEVER the gender is

Nothing straight going on here LOL.

The lyrics actually kinda fit this I think because St. Sebastian was being persecuted for being Christian by Roman soldiers --The Hounds of Love part I mean

Anyway I wanted it to look soft and reverent...imagine Deltarune" The Holy"

I love that track

Uhh here's the description of this painting from that list I mentioned earlier( in part 1) just because it SENT me: "he is SUCKING IN HIS STOMACH and JUTTING OUT HIS HIPS, I adore how much he is not bleeding from his two shallow flesh wounds and how carefully he has been trimming his bikini zone"- KILLED ME

Also hmmm actual explanation alright- I'm just spouting vaguely organised thoughts so excuse my chaos.

I wanted the light to be so bright like it came from heaven

Just pure exhilaration

Coming home even. Getting closer.

As for the hands here--

Saints ≠ God, just the suggestion of the divinity/holiness you believe in taking you in unconditionally, bleeding like you and hurting like you- an understanding.

The glitching is again, a surreal effect...the other side. Worlds breaking.

And on a more personal level it's his dissonant feelings. Like this is wrong!!( Everything tells him)...he shouldn't want this...but the undercurrents of ' Hounds Of Love', that's his overwhelming, ball-busting desire to push on anyway.

But wait up! I gotta quote Whipping Girl.

I remember in that book, she( Julia Serano) said something about how everything tells us what we're doing/feeling is wrong, but we have these innate cross gender aspirations and find ways to express/ feel of ourselves queerly anyway. It's power,in my opinion.

Before this gets too long, it doesn't only have to be about gender and I think it can speak to Habit much more as well in terms of being himself but I just wanted to emphasize that part because I think it's. Amazing.

Tangential but remember the Bible story of the Prodigal Son? I had it in a kids book. It was one of my favourites. It struck with me all these years, I think it's a beautiful story.

It really goes against, that, like " Be perfect and conform or go to hell" thing some people think religion is about. Also I think the prodigal son 'coming back' doesn't necessarily have to be conforming, I think it was just about like. Trying to be a better person.

Oh..and one of the arrows look like they're going through Habit instead- my friend pointed that out. Mirroring, beloved!

Panel 8: I think the flowers have a full effect in this one I really really adore it.

Also HJDJF Casanova's moved on to the thighs- I know it's not very clear so I'm saying

And! I learned that lip trills are also singing exercises- and I recall that in my headcanons Habit had to practice singing for some reason or the other and he liked it--so it could also be related to that.

Tldr; he is so fucking cute I'm gonna explode motherfucker!!!!!😍

Hes stimming!!!

Anyway, Hounds Of Love adds an emotional edge to it you know? Like Pretty Boy is mostly Habits surface attraction(" OH NO HES HOT") going on but it's also so much deeper than that, so I think these 2 songs really tie things together.

Panel 9: A VERY super relatable panel to me-- I'm like floored those lyrics express me SO much

*Deeply breathes* From the TOP- Ladies, gentlemen and Legends

The butterflies are like wall decoration I'm pretty sure-

I saved two from the sticker paper. MY sister and her friend were playing with them and they stuck one on a teddybears ass for some reason??? Like OK butterfly butt

I just had to make the Ken purple, it was my calling, it felt so righttt

Genderqueer Ken and twinky gay man Heather </33

Heather is not actually a Barbie doll btw I found out on googling. Also! This sprung out of overthinking in the bathroom but

OK so you see how 'Ken' and 'Heather' are represented by similar looking butterflies? That got me thinking about how Habit processes gender

And I was reminded of the thing I heard about autistic people having higher rates of gender nonconformity than neurotypical people.

Basically I think his gendered concepts are abstract but he still has aspirations he's drawn to, if that makes sense.

And uhhh that's a thought bubble incase it isn't clear, more like a thought cloud or a thought sky really. If you look close enough you can see the spiral swirls I so love to draw< 3

The stones are pretty messy so here's a clearer shot:

[ ID: Clearer unedited shot of shiny decorative stones. End ID]

And notice how "there" is purple( the queer color, to me) too! That really got me when I did it. I just. FEELINGS

...I do worry sometimes about if I won't like my voice if I ever get T and I can't go back to before and stuff. It's a little nerve wracking for sure. But you know *waves my hands around*

Anyway, those stones were last minute additions!! It was in the same cool box I found some nailpolish in </3

I wanted it to look like stars sparkling. ALSO a kind of. Scrapbook feel. Because he's a kid and also scrapbooks are fun!

Also I looked it up and apparently the heather flower can mean good luck, admiration and protection as well and I think all 3 fit St.Seb. It's heartwarming for me to think Habit would associate protection with him; someone who usually seen to be so vulnerable and weak

Like. It's not a bad thing to be ''weak''like that is what I'm saying, I guess. There's value it it, as a sensitive soul myself( not to be pretentious; it does cause me lots of problems and it's not flowery all the time)- I can relate.

Panel 10: Ahhh. There we are. Yes. The explanation:

Ok so I'll start with a little thing- he popped one of his bobbles out of anxiety.

The designs are waves crashing into him, from the previous page. And now- they're everywhere now.

And you know I did blue because water but I think it could also work with blue being the western color of masculinity.

Honestly. The foam looks kind of soft. Maybe it's not so scary to...step in the water

What're the black lines? Maybe a rudimentary shield- maybe him being hyper aware of all the edges and curves of the body feeling all uncomfortable now. It's dissonance.

ALSO not to break the mood but the 'BSOD BSOD' in the corner kills me like LOLLL Blue Screen Of Death

It's like euphoria and dysphoria together tbh. The grimmer thoughts descending from above but still the rose colors are rising from below - I showed it with the black/rose blurs.

Also- " feel your arms surround me"

Most of all- He feels loved

How do you deal with that?

There's hope yet. The shields all splintery. <:-)

Blue, pink and white BINCHHH 🏳️‍⚧️

And LAST thing you can see a small gleeful "eeee" UP there that descends into a keysmash AHA keysmashes in general are a great way to show all sorts of conflicting feelings I think.

Panel 11: Last panel..!!

OK so this is THEEE messiest one I think. Also kinda abrupt but it fits with the action going on I guess. I'm satisfied enough with it. This comic is very good by me :)

OK so basically he got overstimulated and

[ GIF ID: Naruto running and doing his Rasengan move. End ID]

RASENGANNNN!!!!

That is sooo fun to say I said it IRL one time dramatically throwing a ball to my friend and OMG that was years ago! Anyway! It's all Hounds Of Love now.

" Spoilers: I win!!! >:-("

Yes baby you really won by growing up and being yourself and healing and living your best life < 3 keep doing it

R.I.P Seb he was gay stood up, our hearts will forever remember him

This is why you don't FUCKING mess with eggs 🏳️‍⚧️ then youse get arrowed and a volleyball to the face. O woe!!!😭

Honestly I was not sure how to do this one

But it all worked out quite marvelously - tha ball+vivid colors+ rainbow+ stars/sparks is my favorite, Habit looks like he's making a LGBT comet or something

It's just sweeping

I realised the wood actually looks kinda woody FJJF Not sure how that happened- glad le swirls are somewhat preserved.

Also I will bring to your attention that the biggest flower in this whole thing is the yellow on the bottom right, nothing more intended to that I just thought it was near. Also I sprinkled the most flowers on here I'm pretty sure LOL something something Habit is sploding!!!!

Oh oh oh and!!!

Honestly it's funny to me the kinda passive aggressive/confused way Habby thinks about the painting in this whole comic

Habit when I help him figure out all his fucked up feelings:

[ ID: "Had it not been for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you."-- a memorable quote said by a child character wielding a dagger in a scene from the 2014 Ghanaian film 13.30 Kaba Church. End ID]

And what else!! Lookie hes all bright here!!! Glowing!

That fits with the LGBT comet thing actually Habit you ARE a star you are the SUN

[ ID: A screenshot from the game Smile for me where Dr. Habit in his dentist outfit questions: "I sea that look in you're eyes...are you STARST-( RUCK?)". end ID]

Yeas. We are.

Oh and lore about the orange cloth with golden tassels. Huh got nothing actually it's just aesthetic and makes everything looks brighter and gives an 'ending' feel to me.

Also- Bro you threw your heart at him( REMEMBER the volleyball is a heart metaphor??) ? It's so funny to me actually like OK LMAO you won you won don't kill me LMFAO

And a serious thought isss

Ok. This is actually a bunch of things together- let's see if I can make it make sense. Before that-

We must importantly note he has left his green bobble bouncing near the painting- like Cinderella's shoes except instead of getting him a prince they're gonna get him caught for breaking a prized artifact HDHJF awe...

Now, I think the concepts I'm about to say are important and I'd love to seem them incorporated more. Yeah if there's one thing I've gathered from the disability advocation I've read in my life it's that like. You shouldn't need to be a "productive member to society/family/friends" to have inherent value and that what's important is putting yourself first a lot; caring for yourself( or getting help for it if needed) best as you can

I say "shouldn't " because the world doesn't work that way currently so of course people will have conflicting feelings over this but it's a healthy ideal, I think. Weak is a loaded word but that could be another way Habit can think about St.Seb's vulnerability and how it relates to him.

Yeah I know, I thought" damn could a 17 year old arrive at such a momentous conclusion over just a painting " BUT!!

I think Habit would uhh focus and think about it a lot like how I think about him a lot TBH

and yeah 1 painting can get used up fast so he'd try to collect more info!! Also I don't think his thoughts would be these exactly; just close and also filled with doubt and worry you know.

My friend said something about this- something along the lines of Habit overworking himself later. So he still has those ideals about being productive internalised. But he also has an idea deep down about the different things St.Seb taught him- that you don't need to be that way - you are worthy as you are.

OK I'm done!! Thanks for reading!!!

The last thing is: I think he'd try to ask Martha( the local school bathroom ghost in my AU-- I have more posts about it on my blog here) and her answers would be along the lines of " I don't give a fuck, honey" LOL-- but uh. I guess it's not totally out of the question that Habit might try to ask about St.Seb's sexuality haphazardly AHA

[animeyanderelover]

May I request Tendou, Chuuya, Aomine, Kageyama, Karma, and Tanjiro with an S/O who has a skin condition called Vitiligo and is called names becuase of it.

I'm no expert so forgive me and tell me if I misunderstood anything!

Vitiligo: Vitiligo is a skin disorder that causes the skin and even hair to lose color. It is caused by the lack of melanin in cells.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, protective behavior, delusion, bullying, warning, threats, violence, manipulation, sabotage, isolation

S/o with Vitiligo gets called names

Tobio Kageyama

🌧️​He might have never stumbled across the term Vitiligo before, he can only guess the really obvious from the lighter skin patches on your body. That makes him a bit insecure and even if you tell him that your condition is nothing life-threatening, he's quite uneasy without knowing better about it though knowing that it's nothing lethal has him feeling a bit more relieved. He does his best to help where he can though, especially since the medical terms such as lack of melanin and certain therapies you might receive are above his understanding. On sunny days he always makes sure that you apply sunscreen to prevent a sunburn on the sensitive patches of white skin. Tobio also grows more paranoid, afraid that he might say something that hurts you due to your skin disease and is always frantically apologizing when he thinks that he did.

🌧️​Especially once Kageyama notices the rude stares and unkind words from others is he really careful with what he says and how he treats you. Above everything else he gets mad though at anyone who dares to do this. As soon as he hears someone throwing a remark at you, he turns around in a frightening speed, a dark look on his face. It's not uncommon for him to start shouting at someone in public, towering over them with an intimidating glare. He's extremely sensitive at one point, especially because you suffer from all the insults and names that it escalates to the point where he's about to physically engage in a fight if it wouldn't be for you holding him back. Tobio grows paranoid to the point where he doesn't want to let you go under people anymore, his heart can't take more of you feeling more and more insecure about yourself. He's overbearing, frets over you as soon as you look a bit down and glues himself to your hip. His affection and praises increase in an attempt to smother you in his love and adoration to make you feel better about yourself.

Satori Tendou

❤️​Tendou is at first more of a stalker but does his research nevertheless about his darling. Vitiligo is a new word for him but it doesn't discourage him to learn what it means, hours are spent watching documentaries and reading articles about how he can help you. This knowledge before he even dares to approach you helps him a bit once he is your boyfriend since he already knows what he has to do though he's aware there are certainly things he still doesn't know. Supports you through whatever therapy you might take in order to help a bit with your skin condition, even if there is no cure for it. Satori might feel frustrated with the lack of help he can provide sometimes so he just helps in all other aspects of your life as good as he can. Honestly, he's so sweet and doting albeit quite clingy at one point.

❤️​He's been called names for his looks too which is why he can sympathize with his s/o more on a personal level. Yet seeing and hearing it is infuriating. He's fine if he's being bullied but bullying his darling is entirely different and awakes the inner sadist he reserves for everyone who hurts s/o. Tendou takes full advantage of his height, his creepiness and his looks and he really does enjoy when he scares others away. He grows rather shameless. He's also quick to abandon his initial insecurities if he's enough for you when he realizes that you're being insulted and that he has no time to feel so insecure when his darling has it worse than him. As a worshipper, Satori attempts to do about anything he can to cheer you up. He constantly tries to make you laugh when you're down and is very verbal about his adoration and love for you. Always prepares you your favorite meals or buys you a small present to cheer you up and constantly showers you with kisses and cuddles. He's a bit toxic though because he manipulates you to stay inside the house with him.

Daiki Aomine

💙​He's on the rougher side before he softens up due to his obsession but Daiki feels guilty because he sort of stared impolitely the first time he saw his darling. He's apologetic ever after. Since Aomine is on a protective side, he's bound to want to know more about your skin condition though he definitely is overwhelmed with the amount of medical terms. At least he's stubborn so give him credit for his persistence. Due to his very protective nature, there is maybe initially frustration that he can't help you as much as he'd like to do and even the fact that Vitiligo can't really be cured and that you have to suffer with comments and rude stares. He's mad but soon realizes that his s/o might wish more than anyone else that their skin would look normal which is why he feels bad again, seeks out Momoi and constantly asks her what he can do to make up for it.

💙​He's been a bit the same initially, he's witnessed the lingering looks and heard the rude nicknames you've been given due to your skin. To say that Daiki transforms into an aggressive guard dog is a bit of an understatement. He barely leaves your side, has always an arm wrapped around you and throws scary glares at anyone whose gaze lingers too long. His demeanor alone is enough to scare off many already but if someone actually insults you in front of him, he's throwing hands. It's likely for him to grab someone by the collar and even if you interfere, he forces an apology out of them before warning them that the next time they won't be lucky. If his darling isn't with him, he might actually throw a punch. Daiki grows rather uncomfortable to have you alone outside if he isn't with you, calls Momoi so she can accompany you. His mood gets affected by you, he's more irritable if he knows that you're insecure. Tries about anything he can think of, from kissing your skin with the discolored areas to doing everything you want as long as it makes you happy.

Nakahara Chuuya

🟠​He doesn't really care about looks since you've captured the Port Mafia's heart with your personality and own quirky charms. Chuuya even dares to say that he finds that you possess a unique beauty due to your discolored skin though he holds that statement back, unsure how you'd feel about it. He's a charmer anyways so he's sure to make your heart race in other ways, you're his gorgeous doll after all. He's clueless about Vitiligo as well and whilst at first worried about the fact that it's a skin disease, he calms down when he gets to know that it's nothing lethal though he has to watch out for the sun since your skin is sensitive. Chuuya is persistent to take over the bill for the therapy though. Now that you're his, he sees it as his responsibility to care for you, insists on paying even if you protest. He knows that his darling has it rough, he plans to change that.

🟠​Best of luck insulting his precious babe because not only is Chuuya very protective, he's also a certified hothead who is skilled in hand-to-hand combat. Not only that but he is aware of your history with being bulied and called mean names, knows that you suffer from insecurities and hate yourself for your looks sometimes and it drives the poor man crazy. Chuuya turns as a response extremely violent with everyone, afraid that you'll only end up getting dragged down more. Bones are broken and blood is being splattered around yet he doesn't feel an ounce of guilt for any of them. He's more terrified to be under too many people due to that, convinces you more than just once to do something that only requires you two since neither of you two have a good time as soon as you notice the whispers and stares you're given. Chuuya becomes more smothering himself when he's more paranoid, admits to you that he finds you even gorgeous with your discolored patches, spoils you with lavish presents and pretty clothes to show you how dazzling you really are.

Akabane Karma

🔴​Karma probably ends up mentioning darling's look upon first meeting one way or another, even if it isn't exactly to insult them. They catch his eye due to their unique appearance, he's a bit curious about them yet once he's fully invested it's the start signal for his obsession. Chances might even be that he knows what Vitiligo is though the therapy is still unknown to him. As obsessive as he is, he goes out of his way to find out about everything he can though, he has fun whilst being obsessed with you, it's creepy. Even in a relationship he still teases you for your skin though he backs down and apologizes if he notices that he's struck a nerve. He's definitely mean enough though to actually say something with the intention to strike your insecure side, specifically when you're very close to someone or he's mad with you about something.

🔴​Whilst Karma makes use of your insecurities for his own good, he won't exactly permit others to do the same. It's quite obvious from the first time that he saw you that you're probably meeting jerks who don't know how to shut up but it becomes personal once you're his s/o. He's mischievous yet seems to at least think that he only is being mean when you put up too much of a struggle against him, everyone else is just being a tasteless moron though. Karma is actually more protective when someone he cherishes is involved and he's a little devil, a sadistic one to top it all. He doesn't lash out, instead has a gleeful and cocky smile on his face, provokes someone by stepping closer whilst whispering his threats and if they try to throw a punch, he flips them over, might break intentionally a finger or two. Who knows, he might even carry a knife around and make use of it, in either case he enjoys tormenting someone who doesn't know when to shut up. He's weirdly nice, sometimes even coddling, after such incidents to you, treats you something you wish for.

Kamado Tanjiro

❤️​Tanjiro approaches his darling with an open mindset, is incredibly nice and never mentions anything hurtful about your appearance. He's curious but doesn't want to be insensitive since he can imagine the jeers you had to go through due to your discolored skin so he either waits until you tell him or he feels like he's close enough to you to not come over as disrespectful by asking. Listens sincerely to what you tell him, does his own research and might even ask Shinobu if she knows more. Incredibly supportive himself, Tanjiro is quick to do about anything he can do to support and help you. He's basically itching to somehow help you somehow and that isn't quenched by merely ensuring that you don't suffer from sunburns or accompanying you when you head to the hospital for your therapy. Tanjiro literally ends up doing chores and stuff you didn't even ask for.

❤️​He's the friendliest whenever someone can't help but slip a comment about your appearance. He's still quick to call out whoever made such an uncalled-for statement, demands an apology before leaving whilst busily trying to lift your mood. If a person apologizes because they realize their mistake, Tanjiro won't even hold a grudge. If he's faced with someone who thinks that it's fun or someone who has a past of bullying you, there's a firm look in his eyes. If Inosuke and Zenitsu are with him, he asks them to go somewhere else with you whilst he deals with the person. The feeling he's giving of is a bit unique to describe, he's neither scary nor really intimidating. His tone is firm and the look in his eyes is piercing, something just makes the other person uneasy at one point. Encourages his darling to talk about their insecurities and fears, he imagines that it must be difficult to keep everything bottled up inside and is always willing to listen. He's a sweetheart, picks flowers for you or prepares your favorite snacks. Also lets you hang out with his two friends and sister since they're chaotic but bound to make you laugh in some way.

[ammstify]

Welp, I'm gonna finally talk about it, especially since my moot @greetings-inferiors told me to do it, and my best friend said it was okay!

The self indulgent Persona AU I made for my friend and I's silly, gay, adult men ocs because I'm obsessed with this franchise!

(***NOTE: This post will be split into two parts, 1. To give both characters equal attention, and 2. So it's easier to read! Also will be referring to the characters by their first name initials, sorry!)

Firstly, let's begin with a slight introduction to our first character who I will be discussing; My best friends OC and special man, F.

F is a 27 (if 2022) year old guy, or 32-33 during Persona 3's time (2009-2010), or 41 during Persona 5's time (2016). Regardless though, he's a chubby-ish dorky blond that's a mixture of masc punk and cozy femme cottagecore (depending on the day), who loves nature, playing the guitar, cooking, and hiking through the woods. He is very sweet, excitable, kind, and a complete and utter dork that tries to find the good in everything.

However, much like many ocs of mine and my friends, he also has his own trauma and demons. But, through the love and support of his boyfriend/husband N (my handsome man), he learns to overcome and live with the trauma, while healing the metaphorical and physical wounds on his body into scars.

F's chosen Persona of course is the Mythological hero of the Trojan War, and the central character of Homer's Iliad, Achilles! The Persona takes the form of a humanoid person, with both masculine and feminine qualities, their body wrapped around and balancing upon their golden spear as if it were a pole dancer.

Most of their body is suspended in the air other than for one foot, which touches the floor, representing how all of Achilles' body was impervious other than his heel, due to it being the only part not dipped within the River Styx as a baby. Alongside that, not only does Achilles' body being suspended represent him being a pseudo-demigod, but also F's high on life attitude, feeling free and happy but still having his own vulnerabilities.

The overall Persona's clothing scheme is a sort've punkish Greek armor, combining a leather strap harness with a corset. Its arms are covered with mesh, studded leather bands etched with the alchemical symbol of Achilles, elbow pads with etchings similar to his shield, spiked wristbands, and fingerless studded gloves. Around their waist is a loose cloth skirt, similar to the red cape Achilles often is depicted donning. They also wear clunky platform boots with Greek sandal styled strapping, with an arrow pierced through the heel of the foot touching the floor. And last but not least, atop the Personas head is a studded Trojan helmet, where a long and luxurious mane of golden hair spills out from the top, taking the place of the plume.

For F, the feminine and masculine qualities of the Persona's outfit represents both his love of punk themed clothes, but also his comfort within his sexuality and gender. The mesh around its arms, the big platform boots, the spikes, and the mohawk are all common items that F has worn before. And in terms of mythological lore, Achilles was regarded to be a masculine and feminine man. During a part of his life, he even comfortably hid as a woman while living on the island of Skyros. It also gives off a sense of etherealness by making the Persona stand out, while balancing colors of black, white, gold, and red, common colors associated with both F and Achilles!

I'm not entirely sure what Arcana Achilles would be, but I'm kinda learning towards either Sun or Chariot! It would likely utilize Agi/Fire magic but focus more on physical skills and some general skills, like Tarukaja, Makajama, or Marin Karin!

So what about his SEES costume? Or his Phantom Thieves outfit in the Metaverse?

For his SEES gear, it would probably be a punk, modified earthy green denim jacket with all sorts of patches and messy writing, with the SEES armband over his left arm and shoulder. F would have a simple tshirt, with baggy 2000's style jeans, some clunky boots, and a black half skirt with a white belt and his Evoker! And over the shoulder, like Yukari and Junpei, he'd have a connecting white strap where he'd hook his big shield as his weapon. Very chaotic and messy, but very him!

Also yes, his weapon is a shield because I couldn't figure out where to places Achilles' signature shield, and thought it would be fitting if F carried one! Not to mention, a tactical shield or ultimate weapon of Achilles' shield would be SICK!

And no, it was not intentional that F too is an excitable, blond haired, pansexual punk with a Persona that represents masculinity and femininity, that uses physical skills and carries a shield, like a certain other someone whose name rhymes with Manji.

....

Mostly.

Anyway! For his Phantom Thieves costume, its kinda simple and a little similar to his Persona! Only, F would have a studded black chest plate, with a black-brown under shirt/cover for his arms, gloves with silver knuckles and red palms, puffy black-brown pants, and some big clunky belted punk boots. He would also have a similar around the waist and over the shoulder belt to carry his shield, and a red wraparound cloth to emulate the skirts Trojan's wore. Like Achilles, he too would have a black and red Trojan styled mask, with studs and spikes lining it, and his mohawk poking through! Think kinda like Yoshida's design from ScruffyTurtles Adult Confidants AU! But yknow, a little more punk!

Of course, we can't forget his Codename, which would just be.... Trojan.

Yeah, its a little simple abd on the nose, but I liked the idea since its befitting of him! The only alternative would probably be Valkyrie, but he's not really Valkyrie themed, and I don't wanna use Titan since ScruffyTurtles used that for their AU Yoshida!

So you might asking, "Ammy, the guy is almost ten years older than the entire cast of Persona 3, and would be in his 40's during Persona 5. What setting would he be in??"

Honestly? Probably none of them! But I just liked the idea of him and N as older Persona users, similar to Zenkichi from P5 Strikers, Kasukabe from P5 Tactica, or the entire cast of P2: Eternal Punishment! Realistically, neither of these characters would probably interact with or exist during the games, let alone even INTERACT with the casts! I just liked the thought of them discovering themselves and fighting with their own Personas, with their own unique attacks and stuff!

As for the other elephant in the room; "Why doesn't he have a Persona 5 themed Persona that's a trickster?"

Well, there's a few parts to this issue.

Because F and N are lovers that aid each other, I wanted their Personas to be characters that are connected together, representing their complex relationship and devotion to one another.

In terms of Tricksters who were actually a gay couple, there was only that really came to mind recently: Stede Bonnet aka "The Gentleman Pirate" and Edward Teach aka "Blackbeard.

While a smart idea, not only do I feel weird using characters who many associate with Our Flag Means Death (a kinda-but-not historical fiction show which is VERY popular.)

But also the main issue; Both of these tricksters were AWFUL people in real life. Stede Bonnet was someone who kept slaves and was a bumbling buffoon who admittedly, caused more harm than good as a pirate. I think it'd be awkward and idiotic on my part to give him to either characters, since F isn't racist and N is POC.

Meanwhile Blackbeard on the other hand was ruthless, FAR more ruthless than Kidd, who SA'ed women, took slaves upon his ship (though he did free some), and likely more.

And overall, their relationship was... Not really gay in real life? They were more awkward friends, and aren't quite like Achilles and Patroclus, whom of which had a lot of romantic subtext within their respective ancient epics and stories.

So, unless if someeone can find a historical gay couple/pair who had gay subtext, who were tricksters, I'm sticking with Achilles and Patroclus! (Also yeah spoiler, Patroclus is N's Persona!)

Anyway, this is getting pretty long so, I hope you all enjoyed reading this! This took awhile to make, but my best friend encouraged me to ramble about it and I thought it'd be a fun, slow way to introduce you guys to our boys! Especially sine they will be slowly becoming more prominent as times goes on.

Keep a look out for Part 2 where I write about N and his Persona, Patroclus!

Part 1 - Part 2

[cedarxwing]

okok i’m so sorry for bothering you through here but like first of all YAY so happy to see someone also obsessed with hannigram in brazil lmao just love it so much and am glad other people like it too

when answering you i thought about feijoada too but was like nah it’s not Meaty enough but like i bet he would find some way to make feijoada way meatier jsjsksjskskksjsksk

but anyway i’m so sorry for asking but i kind of have to ask about you writing hannibal in brazil 👀 if it’s smth you don’t feel like showing or never posted i’m very sorry for asking and feel free to not answer this!!! but if you would like to share know i’d love it so so so much

anyway you got me too excited about this topic skjsksksks thank you thank you thank you !!!!!!!!

It's not a bother at all, are you kidding, I could chat about novel references forever! I see you're Thomas Harris's arch nemesis and I'm Thomas Harris's #1 simp, so I guess that makes us mortal enemies, but I'm glad hannigram in Brazil can unite us. ^^

This might be wrong, but I read that feijoada was made with pig feet, snout, ears, etc (I think to make the broth?) back in the 16th century, and I got obsessed with the idea of Hannibal using the human analogs for those.

I never posted what I wrote anywhere bc it's kinda cringe and unedited lol. The premise was post-fall, Will needs facial reconstructive surgery for his stab wound, like how Hannibal got his sixth finger removed in Rio de Janeiro after he escaped prison. Here are some Brazil-related snippets!

A rewrite of the Marcus Hotel scene from Silence of the Lambs (except Will is actually getting plastic surgery haha):

The doors of the elegant Hotel Marco in Rio de Janeiro slid open and hit Hannibal with a gust of air conditioning. He wore comfortable white linen and a Panama hat. His hair was an ungodly shade of bottle blond. A neat surgical bandage covered his nose and cheeks. Soft piano music drifted from the lounge. At the bar, Hannibal could see two people with bandages across their noses. A middle-aged couple crossed to the elevator, humming a Jobim tune. The woman wore a gauze patch over one eye. “Boa tarde, Sr. Wyman,” the concierge greeted him as he passed the reception desk. Hannibal nodded to him before joining the couple in the elevator. He set his bag of groceries down in the kitchen of the penthouse suite. The suite seemed luxurious to him after his long confinement. He enjoyed running his hands over the cotton bed comforter and the stainless steel fridge. After sorting the groceries, he indulged in a long shower. From the window, he could see across the street the premier clinic for craniofacial surgery in Brazil, where Will had recently undergone maxillary reconstruction and received a four molar dental bridge.  This was the one place in the world where Hannibal could walk around with a bandage on his face without exciting interest, and he’d taken advantage of that to make his first foray into the public since their flight to Rio. A short walk to the convenience store less than one block away. Voices laughing in Portuguese, and the buttery scent of street wagon empadas and brigadieros. Life pressing sweetly on him from all sides.

And later:

Will looked at the bacon fat heating on the stove. He spoke in hesitant Spanish, knowing Hannibal wouldn’t respond to anything else. “What do we have here?” After weeks of communicating using pen and paper, Will had made a reluctant return to speech, unfamiliar now to his damaged hard palate. Add to this the strain of learning a new language—rolled Rs were particularly painful for his stitched tongue—and he was perfectly happy to stare at Hannibal in silence for days on end. Each word Will spoke aloud, Hannibal knew, was a gift. “Farofa for feijoada, a hearty black bean stew of regional significance. I’ve made it before, but this will be my first time using authentic Brazilian sausage.” He’d been looking forward to it but was in danger of losing concentration with Will this close. He smelled of blood—from the butcher most likely—and forest underneath it. “You’ve been to Tijuca National Park again.” “Lots of tourists there,” Will said, as if in explanation.

(They're not staying in Brazil--that's why Will's learning Spanish instead of Portuguese)

Anyway, feel free to correct anything I got wrong! I've never been to Rio so I have literally no idea what I'm doing.

[kiatheinsomniac]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇-𝐔𝐏!*˚ .♡⋆ˊˎ -

𓆩♡𓆪 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄! @mundayoonimnida

Hello!! I'm a 23 year-old Brazilian, cis and straight. I'm mixed (White and African-Brazilian ancestry); long 3a/3b hair; 5'4. I'm easy-going, calm, sharp, intelligent, polite, loving with my friends and straightforward. I hate when people try to take advantage of others, so in these situations, I might be very crass. I guess we can say I'm quite temperamental. I'm also very observant and detail-oriented; i feel heartbroken when a person i like don't remember small details about me, like my favorite color, or my favorite food - that's something that would make stop liking that person instantly. In contrast, i lose things easily, am quite forgetful and get very distracted. I love food. Going out to see a movie, a cultural or just to chat, and afterwards, eating is the best program for me. I love staying at home and learning languages. I'm fluent in 4 languages and love anything related to books. I hate conceited, false and judging people; also, hate insects, guns and animal abusers. Fandom: Lord of the Rings Love + Sorry, fandom is Tolkien. Even though, I'm obsessed with Silmarillion right now.

ੈ♡˳ 𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄!

♡ Aragorn likes that you're intelligent, polite, loving and you step in to stand up for people who are being taken advantage of. You're clever, kind and honourable. He's really fascinated by all the languages that you speak too (I can see Elrond raising him with an importance on language-learning, being raised by fëanorians) so he'd just love to hear you talk all about grammar and vocab. He'll love to learn some of the languages you speak too.

♡ He finds books in the library that he knows will be exactly to your taste because he listens when you talk about your interests and he likes remembering these little things about you. He's also tried all of your favourite foods and he's overall just really into taking part in whatever makes you smile, the sight of it always makes his heart skip a beat.

♡ The languages come into how he asks you to be his Valentine! He'll remember everything you've taught him and he'll ask you to be his Valentine in your native language.

ੈ♡˳ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄?

♡ Aragorn takes you out on a stroll with the most scenic views he's found in his time as a ranger. Though, he finds that while he's watching you take in all the breathtaking landscapes in front of you, he doesn't have the heart to tear his eyes from how beautiful you look.

♡ The two of you set up camp on a cliff side in a little patch that's grassy and dotted with flowers. He's brought some food to prepare a campfire dinner for you and the two of you. You end up sleeping together in this little tent on your bedrolls but you seek him out for warmth when you fall asleep.

♡ He'll pull you close and throw an additional blanket over the two of you, tuck your head under his chin and kiss the crown of your head. He admires you and loves you a lot and hopes he can have more opportunities to be close to you like this.

missed the match-up event? try ships instead!

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not:  ∘ buy me a coffee?  ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

[sillylilpixie]

Cruella Headcanons Sources

I really like Cruella but a lot of the things shes in changes lots of things so this is to explain what I pick and choose. I pool from a lot of different sources for my Cruella Headcanons. Now my personal favorites are the original 101 Dalmatian animated movie from 1961 and Evil Thing by Serena Valentino a lot (both the book and graphic novel) The book is one of my favorite Cruella source to pull from it merges with the original movie so wonderfully!

This is the list of 101 Dalmatian sources I use A LOT

101 Dalmatians 1961 Animated Movie

Evil Thing by Serena Valentino (Novel and Graphic Novel)

101 Dalmatian sources I pick apart for my own uses

101 Dalmatians 1996 Live Action Movie

102 Dalmatians 2000 Live Action Movie

101 Dalmatians II: Patch's London Adventure

101 Dalmatian sources I'm not sure about using

101 Dalmatian Street I've only seen some episodes, the puppies are cute, but I DEF wouldn't use their Cruella

101 Dalmatian the Series the original cartoon I still need to rewatch the show, I only remember a few episodes from my childhood

This is the list of 101 Dalmatian sources I DON'T Use

Cruella 2021, its just not the Cruella I like

Descendants , I love the series but not for my Cruella things (Even if Carlos is great) once more thats not really my Cruella

This drawing is actually a redraw from the graphic novel!!!

Some headcanons that come straight from Evil Thing

Cruella has big big mommy issues, in the book her mother is manipulative and Cruella often falls for it. She uses Cruella a lot and is very neglectful at times. Cruella often refers to her as mama

Miss Pricket is a character from the book, she's Cruella's governess which kind of means nanny. She taught Cruella instead of her going to boarding school cuz she was a girl. One of the things she taught Cruella was French. In the book as Cruella gets older she confess she sees Cruella as a friend or even a sister. And tries to tell her that her mother doesn't love her.

Anita and Cruella were very close friends, to the point that Cruella saw her like a sister. They went to finishing school together. Anita was had a lower social status and Cruella's mother didn't like her. Anita saw how Cruella's mother was emotionally abusive.

Mrs Web is Cruella's mom first hand lady, and would report everything to her, after the events of the movie she was put in charge of keeping Cruella under lock and key in Hell Hall to make sure she doesn't embarrass Cruella's mom

Miss Pricket is brought back to help take care of Cruella and is stated to truly have loved her. (And Cruella loves her)

Her earrings come from her dead father, most her fur coats came from her mother, and her ring came from her dead husband

Loved fairy tales growing up, her father had gotten her a fairy tale book when she was a little girl.

Her white hair and unhealthy appearance stems from grief of losing her husband and discovering he had kept a lot of secrets from her

Headcanons inspired by Evil Thing

While Miss Pricket taught Cruella French and she took French lessons in finishing school, Cruella struggles with it and isn't good at it, and more on par to a toddler, Miss Pricket will play cartoons in french and speak in french when shes treating Cruella extra younger. Cruella also calls her Mere Mere when shes feeling on the younger side of her little side which means mom in french

Miss Pricket helps her realize what she did was wrong, and helps her with her obsessive thoughts. She also helps Cruella apologize to Anita

Becomes obsessed with dalmatians and puppies in general. Literally has 101 dalmatian stuffed animals and makes her own dalmatian themed clothes with Miss Pricket's help and encouragement.

Anita sometimes comes over and visits Cruella, and helps babysits her.

Cruella has a hard time connecting and relating to other people due to being raised by a narcissistic mother and her own mental health issues.

Cruella struggles a lot with taking care of herself and doing things like eating and sleeping. She's more willing to eat if Miss Pricket is eating and encourages her, and Cruella needs to be read bedtime stories at the very least to go to bed often ends up in Miss Pricket's bed for cuddles after nightmares. Much to Mrs Web disapproval.

Headcanons inspired by other Cruella Sources

Cruella does end up becoming a fashion designer and always loved fashion. (Inspired by 101 Dalmatians 1996 live action movie)

After the events of the first animated movie, she got sent to a mental hospital instead of prison for almost a year and underwent harsh traumatic treatments by Dr Pavlov before being released on parole under the custody of her mother (Who sent her away to stay in Hell Hall under the watchful eye of Mrs. Web) - This is a headnod to the end of 101 Dalmatian Movie 1996 and 102 Dalmatian Movie 2000 where Cruella under goes harsh therapy

Cruella has never smoked a bunch if shes missing her mom, or in a bad place mentally she'll light a cigarette because the smell reminds her of her mother, Miss Pricket doesn't however approve of this or her actually smoking. This being said Cruella does have a oral fixation, which becomes more noticeable when shes on her younger side. Eats a lot of lollipops to make up for not smoking.

Things I DON'T Headcanon or like

Hunter De Vil in 101 Dalmatian Street isn't her great nephew, the cartoon is okay, I just hate hate hate Cruella in that series so I dunno if I had anything from it I would change a lot of the stuff involving Cruella and alter Hunter maybe to be her nephew or something. I haven't decided. I still need to watch more episodes to decide

Nothing in Descendants would be in my headcanons (even though I do like the series)

Nothing from Cruella 2021, good movie but thats not Cruella I like >>

[fancykraken]

In which I continue having zero chill with giffing the briefest of moments of Vincent Piazza in all things Tulsa King.

From the new Tulsa King promo, “Inside Tulsa King”

[omiramotakiart]

I had another stupid idea:

Diary of John Seward.

(Phonograph)

January 22th: Thankfully Mrs. Harker and professor Van Helsing are back from their trip to Switzerland however I must admit that I am… concerned about their findings, not the ones of the peculiar nature of their job but the person, this man, whom Van Helsing has introduced as Adam.

I'm documenting this as fast as I can, although I would like to go into further detail I have plenty of research to do and a pile of letters to look into (all typed by the wonderful Mrs. Mina Harker), apparently the source material dates back to the 1790s and are our only documentation about the existence of our odd guest, other than a few (also typed) notes from a man of the name Victor Frankenstein who according to what I've been told, is Adam's father, in a way, I suppose. I shall record them later.

To begin with, he is of remarkable appearance, easily over two meters, 213 cm. Tall to be precise, of yellowish, almost green skin that is composed of different patches, some varie in hue, there are areas that are more tied to the bone, others hang looser, some even expose the muscle, all bits of him have the same characteristics belonging to a corpse however I have seen no sign of rott, which will require further examination, with the consent of the patient, naturally, the hair presents a couple of streaks of white among the mostly black strands, I do not know if they were caused by a condition, a case of extreme stress and trauma such as it is the case with my dear friend, Johnathan Harker or simple age. Age is also something to question as our guests recall only adulthood from some point during the 1780s, making him over a century old yet keeping a relatively youthful frame, none of us, Adam included, can tell his exact age nor the equivalent of that.

His mental condition, he is a smart man, brilliant even, however I am concerned for his aversion to the name Frankenstein, I wouldn't say he is prone to attacks of rage per se, more of impulsive nature, I need to talk with him and as it seems, it is better to do so in a gentle tone and with a fair amount of patience, he does show a concerning amount of self deprecating tendencies that must be addressed. Adam is talkative as long as one manages to crack his shell, a bit of an obsession over past events. What concerns me the most are the decades of isolation. I would not go as far as to call him childish nor say that he is reverting to a child-like stage, in my (to this point, only based on a surface level examination) it has to do more with a traumatic event relating to a parental figure, which I assume would be Victor.

As for anything else, he does seem to have functioning organs though his body can seemingly go on for periods of time while shutting down certain functions, he barely feels anything though his nerves are functioning perfectly in the movement department, he has lived on a strictly vegetarian diet of foraging his whole life and seems to refer to his earliest memory as the day of his creation. 

Hopefully the notes and letters can provide a better insight on the peculiar case of Adam Frankenstein. Meanwhile, he seems to have developed a liking for the professor and vice versa, I am glad for them. Van Helsing has been a father figure to many of us and it is good that he is taking another soul under his wing.

After work hours I have to go back with Art and maybe if none of us is tired, go fetch a gift for little Quincey.

[ennaku-sirri-da]

He's my best friend best of all best friends💏

[ Plain text: He's my best friend best of all best friends💏( men kissing emoji)]

So @boo-bookeys-reblogs left very kind tags on a post of mine for my AU....

[ID: A screenshot of the tags from the blog Boo Bookeys Reblogs. They read 'baby i love this. I absolutely love it when draw characters in their own interpretations." Then " and "wow! This is such a design for them! It's gorgeous! I'm obsessed!" And then general tags regarding the game Smile For Me, the ship Habismal and GIFs. End ID]

Live Habismal reaction!

[ Plain text: Live Habismal reaction! ]

[ ID: Traditional fanart of the game Smile For Me involving the characters Kamal Bora and Dr. Habit, but my versions from my AU Roseverse. The sketch is done in blue pen and uncolored. Lightly rough pencil lines are seen as well. It is their reaction to the previous tags.

In the artists AU interpretation Habit has marionette features such as segmented, jointed dark line-cuts around his mouth, hands that are visible. He looks thin. A bit of a small droopy chests outline is visible. Stitch-scarring is seen on arms. He is also fur covered. His face is gaunt and freckled with protruding furry cheeks, then fur-ruffles under his makeup-applied eyes, then a thin pencil stache with surrounding chin and neck hair. The middle of the neck is surrounded by a scar, and he has an Adams apple. His teeth are broken and he has one snaggletooth fang. His voluminous curly hair poofs out into drawn spiralling curls, but he is clearly balding on one side too with stray hairs perking up. Here Habit wears a half-handed buttoned shirt tucked into his pants a bit, rounded off with a belt. From his collar is a tie with polka dots. The shirt is modified with a frilly collar, poofy shoulder parts. The pants are jeans.

Kamal meanwhile has a more aged appearance as well-- wrinkly face, sagging jowls and crooked nose. He has a clear middle-tooth gap. He looks of a more average size. Some acne and sharp stubble. He has a less prominent Adams apple. He has white streaks in short dark hair, has puffy eyebags paired with bushy brows. Here Kamal wears his hair in a really short ponytail. He has on a lint-ball covered hoodie that looks scratchy, its strings at the front hang unevenly. A bit of a black shirt underneath is seen. For minimal jewellery, he has a teardrop-shaped chew necklace and a single small gold earring on the left.

Habit stands straight up while Kamal hunches over. His height reaches up to just about Habit's chest.

Habits pupils are constricted as he shoots his hand up in a gasp of surprise, the other one tight behind his back. Kamals eyes are a bit wide and he smiles, reaching up from his posture, as if pleasantly surprised.

In black cursive text below is the compliment they're reacting to, "You're gorgeous! I'm obsessed. " Gorgeous is underlined in pink with a heart on the exclamation mark. End ID]

....

They both think you complimented the other one! Obviously they're the hotter one, right..?

[ Plaintext : ....

They both think you complimented the other one! Obviously they're the hotter one, right..? ]

[ ID: Traditional fanart, continuing the part above. This one is fully colored digitally. The sketch lines are scanned thick and black, defined.

Kamal has a warm medium brown skintone and dark tousled grey hair with white streaks. His hairband is dark blue with glittery spots. The facial places with his acne are reddened and darkened, few white pimples. His hands have hairy knuckles and darkened finger areas. There are Beau's lines on his nails. His hoodie is a soft grey with pastel red undertones and a darker hood area. It has a yellow patch on the lower right arm which says " We will always love you( This is threaded in red and cursively) Kamal(Kamal is threaded with gold in Assamese) OUR SON( this is thickly threaded in teal ) ( The transgender symbol is seen )". Meanwhile on his red chew necklace with rose-pink string, a simple design of a twisting flower with bisexual colors is drawn, its leaves are purple.

Habit has apple-green fur and shades of deep rose-pink hair. His facial hair and the balding spot is of a darker shade. The sclera of his eyes are a light pink to indicate loving adoration, his pupils are dark brown. He has on purple eyeshadow, red lipstick and nailpolish. His eyebags and fur-ruffles are of a deep red sort. Some of his cheek-sticker freckles are white. The stitch-scars, ball joints, joint-cuts and wrinkles are done in a much darker green. Habit's shirt is a light rose-pink with a pale shade of it for the collar frills. His tie is yellow with green polka dots. His belt is standardly brown plus silver-buckled and his jeans are a pastel yellow and pink.

Kamal pulls down Habit by his tie lightly, and Habit willingly leans down too, one hand resting on his leg to balance. Kamal talks to him, looking playful, brows furrowed and grinning wide in challenge. Some sweat trickles down. He is looking up, his hair being pushed up by Habit's face touching close to his. Some of the other's lipstick smudges Kamal's nose tip red. Habit rests his other hand on Kamal's shoulder, twirling two of his fingers in strands from Kamal's ponytail. He too talks back, smiling unevenly big, looking coquetteish. A deep pink blush blooms from across his face to a bit of his neck. Habits hair falls down and covers Kamal amidst it.

The BG is a emanating yellow that gets softer starting from the bright light behind Habit's head. There are very light pastel rainbow flares in wide arcs throughout. Red hearts are drawn from Habit, and smaller blue hearts from Kamal. End ID]

Dialog!! Please read!!! Habitspeak translation provided below for those who need.

[ Plaintext: Dialog!! Please read!!! Plaintext and Translation provided below for those who need. ]

" I yam very b-eàu-tiful but I onlee rlly believe it when someone with a soul as irriziztebly sexy as ur face is tells me that. I can tell that mie current shrink doesn't mean it like u do"

" SssssSShut the fuck up. Y-your, your left dimple could outclass my whole operation anyday"

"PLES, I had the third real religgious ex-perience in my whole lyfe, seeing that Godblessed Godkissed body u've got too"

"..This shit isn't fair how am I supposed to own you if you're SO nice to me, doll eyes? Look at em pretty doll eyes....full of love ..I, I, your hearts so big if I ate it I'm pretty sure I'd violently barf????"

" :\\- ) ( blushing smile emote)Oh bb.. I can't resist the attenshun of such a handsome, self-made man....you are really making this so hard, but don't stop~~"

"Hee hee. Heh heh...hee hee! An' yourself...your a smokin'..... What're you feeling today, again? I'm sorry, I forgot..."

"Little bit ov every-thing and nothing toooo!!!"

" Right. Thanks. Smokin'...um, smokingly gender neutral. Smashing that binary, baby🫶( hands making a heart emoji) "

" And how do "U" feel? :- ) (smile emote)"

" G.....good. 'Bout me, right? Not usually that type, but.... Heh, yeah. But don't you forget too, love ya."

" Lov u 2💋( lipstick kiss emoji) and I'll try "

--Habitspeak Translation

" I am very beautiful but I only really believe it when someone with a soul as irresistibly sexy as your face is tells me that. I can tell that my current shrink doesn't mean it like you do"

" SssssSShut the fuck up. Y-your, your left dimple could outclass my whole operation anyday"

"PLEASE, I had the third real religious experience in my whole life, seeing that Godblessed Godkissed body you've got too"

"..This shit isn't fair how am I supposed to own you if you're SO nice to me, doll eyes? Look at em pretty doll eyes....full of love ..I, I, your hearts so big if I ate it I'm pretty sure I'd violently barf????"

" :\\- ) ( blushing smile emote) Oh baby.. I can't resist the attention of such a handsome, self-made man....you are really making this so hard, but don't stop~~"

"Hee hee. Heh heh...hee hee! An' yourself...your a smokin'..... What're you feeling today, again? I'm sorry, I forgot..."

"Little bit of everything and nothing toooo!!!"

" Right. Thanks. Smokin'...um, smokingly gender neutral. Smashing that binary, baby🫶( hands making heart emoji)"

" And how do "You" feel? :- ) (smile emote) "

" G.....good. 'Bout me, right? Not usually that type, but.... Heh, yeah. But don't you forget too, love ya."

" Love you too💋 (lipstick kiss emoji) and I'll try "

--

THANK YOU @boo-bookeys !!!!! IM REALLY GLAD PEOPLE LIKE MY HARD AND ALSO GAY WORK!!!!

[Plain text: Thank you @boo-bookeys !!!!! I'm really glad people like my hard and also gay work!!!!]

[a-tired-humanist]

I made some Luca García fanart because I'm obsessed with Cemetery Boys now.

Reference:

[Image description]

Fanart of Luca García, a brown haired pale latino boy, around 15 years old, with a burn scar across half his face. Luca's kneeling on the ground, holding a wine red skateboard with the words "San J." written on it. Luca wears an oversized green hoodie & black jeans, which are a bit dirty. The jeans have two patches, on the bottom one it's written "Protect queer kids" on white letters over red cloth. The sky behind him is cloudy and dark.

Luca has a soft smile on his face.

[End ID]

[elizabethrobertajones]

Saw you've been sucked into the MMO life in the form of FFXIV and I was wondering if you had any input into the debate I've been having about what class archetypes tfw would play. I think Sam would be most likely to tank because it requires a reasonable amount of leadership and is also more of a quiet, backbone type role compared to dps. Dean seems more the type to be singularly focused on the big damage hits tbh. He also tends to take more of the charging in and fighting role in their normal life with Sam being the one reading up on everything more carefully and being his backup. Which leaves Cas as healer which may just be me projecting because I play healer/support at every opportunity but literal angel healing aside I think that sorta fits too, he cares a lot for them and tries to keep them safe and shield them as best he can in their adventures? Idk half formed thoughts please completely contradict me if you want I'm genuinely curious about other people's opinions here

Heyooo :D It is less sucked into and more like I’ve returned to the warm cushiony nest of MMOs lol

If you’d asked me back when I was a WoW player I’d have fully agreed because you could only have one class per character and these are definitely the snap decisions that the fam would make when on the character screen. Dean would grab the sexiest DPS, Sam the stoutest tank especially as he’s the one who has read into the classes and strats beforehand, and Cas would ask what to do and be given the healer role because the other two in this scenario would know better about the game and sort of lump it onto him like, oh, we need a healer and you can do this.

(In my own gaming journey, this is what my friends and brother did to me, as they needed a healer to round out their party... I took druid because it was spoopy, and discovered in WoW that while you can’t change classes you can pay gold to respec your character’s role within that class... Promptly re-specced to a melee dps/tank feral druid instead of the healer one, and had a lot more fun :D)  

In FFXIV you can take all the classes on your character (which I have done, natch) and it’s a much more interesting levelling approach, especially seeing how my friends playing the game have gone when it comes to taking classes as they level and why they claim to have tried and then rejected others. It’s an enormous personality test, even for peeps like me and my brother who have all the classes up at max level, which ones we prioritised and which ones we sort of struggled with or found a bit meh. 

Hm so in the scenario that Charlie comes bursting into the Bunker demanding that she needs some friends for dungeons and raids and they’re all sitting on their asses scrolling the internet between a case, they can bloody well play final fantasy with her for a bit, let’s go for some headcanons :D Long because FFXIV has become my current obsession and I have the same in-depth feels about it as I do about SPN but I just never get to write about them with anyone... 

First off, Sam of course has deep nerdery about it and will ask Charlie a ton of questions about what the right class to play is and do the same thing as we’ve already discussed and go for Paladin (which starts as gladiator), and also take all the crafting and gathering side classes because he’s a nerd and you learn nonsense lore while doing it. He’s also in the same starting zone as Thaumaturge which transitions to Black Mage and I BET he’d be tempted to have a little safe witch!Sam emotional release on the most un-Sam class. It’s the big unwieldy spell caster whose literal class quests and stuff make fun of how you’re small and squishy and will be standing in a very bad spot debating whether to finish a long-cast spell and get hit or stop DPS and run for safety. I think he could do with the perspective and learning to be selfish either way to blow off steam from tanking and also learn to prioritise himself IRL :’D Also the paladin quest is WEIRDLY pro-cop from 30 onwards for some reason until the writers saw sense and just. stopped. doing paladin stuff and went back to the Gladiator storyline for the class quests, so idk if he’d enjoy that or start to question other things. Whatever it is he’s getting challenged XD

At 60 he grabs Gunbreaker because it sounds more cool and is thankfully way less emotionally stressful tanking as it’s entirely about being a badass bodyguard and sick flips. This is far more aspirational for Sam, especially as he could just tie a knife to a sawn off shotgun and do these moves for real in his day job. He won’t, but like with black mage, the thought that he COULD is very emotionally satisfying to him.

He might also have decided to check out scholar to see how healing is but idk if he would be able to handle Dean teasing him for having a fairy follow him around so he’d only dabble with the nerd class on the side :P  

Now, Dean can’t take ninja until level 10 or machinist (gun shooty DPS class) until 50, so his start point as DPS would either be pugilist (eeeey brass knuckle class!) or the other DPS classes to start with are Thaumaturge/Black Mage, Arcanist/Summoner, Archer or Lancer. Now. He’d probably think the first two are sissy because magic is for girls/arcanists literally only have a book as a weapon. Archer becomes bard and I think is ultimately a place he’d be very happy as it is a very supportive class to the whole party and basically the mom friend class. But I would love if he went lancer/dragoon because the level 50 class weapon is (folklore inspired name) “Gae Bolg” and every time I equip it I can’t help giggling at the name even though I know it’s a real thing and I shouldn’t. But. Like. It’s the class about waving enormous lances around. It’s got Implications, and Dean is drawn to those. 

He’d probably, however, take rogue/ninja as soon as he could because stabbing things with knives, and the class trainer is the kinda guy who’d have wild gay tension with him while they both try to boast about women to each other, were they to meet irl. Ironically, the rogue trainer (a womanising charmer) and the ninja trainer (an intense, honourable guy bad at social cues even among his own people who ends up falling from grace and choosing to stay in the vicinity of said rogue trainer) are an interesting pair of NPCs to teach Dean about where to stick knives. :) 

He’d go back and power-level dragoon once he starts Heavensward though, because Aymeric is also super intense with messy dark hair and big blue eyes that see right through you. :D He’s getting that gae bolg for him, you know? 

If they’re going to bully Cas to be their healer, he’d probably get really dedicated to the discipline especially as he can stay up all night to play and doesn’t need to take breaks to pee so he’d probably level conjurer/white mage (nature healing) and scholar (ancient book lore with a class quest which mixes ancient curses on a whole people, family drama and a bit of interspeciesish love) and then also pick up astrologian, which is good because it’s spooky star and making your own fate magic. The storyline for that is garbage in the sense that it’s really weakly written, but my favourite character randomly picks up AST in the latest expansion, and has an absolutely fucking wild subtextual romance with another character, including SPN level adopting of a random child who matches Jack in many respects, with said character. And in many respects emotionally they’re Cas and Dean but without any of the personal baggage between them specifically so they really are just chill and married, whatever else they’re stressed about (I say, dreading the next patch is going to finally bring up some questions about what is going on with them as it’s getting weirdly conspicuous while still utterly unsaid). So I would hope if Cas started projecting onto an astrologian character it would be him :P 

Cas also would get into summoner as the other branch of scholar because honestly those two classes are about as close to the random sigil drawing and reading things from books etc analogy to his own occult magic, except you can summon cool dragons and elementals to fight for you. 

they’d buy Jack a boost to 60 and he’d pick up dark knight and white mage probably just to subtly fuck with Dean 

(I am still not over Dean trying to test him to see if he was evil or not by whether he chose devil or angel cake) 

[elaz-ivero]

Poetry Fieldnotes ||Broken Artists Collective||

[image description: a block print with a bright red border around a greyish blue grainy image. Atop it is a pair of discoloured hands, palms facing forward, red and outstretched. Above the hands in white Garamond font are the words, Broken Artists Collective and in smaller font, and other poems. /end id]

Over the past week, I may or may not have fully embraced the concept of a broken artist finding myself unable to conjure up a single creative thought unless I'm lying on the floor surrounded by scrawlings and broken-spined books. For a long time, I have been trying to cater my work to a series of magazines that clearly yearn for a very specific 'type' of poetry that I am incapable of producing. These poems are ones that applied pressure, the ones that were crammed into inattentive submission boxes and were returned in empty emails.

Here are the poems,

[image description: a photograph of a boy laying down looking upward, a lit cigarette stands upright in his mouth and his features are overlayed with the shadows of ferns and other plants. He wears an orange collared shirt and around him are the words in white Garamond font, Floor Bound Echo Location. /end id]

Floor-bound Echolocation is a disjointed 403-word prose poem that is a coalesce of liminal spaces, chaotic ingenuity and a reversal of grief. Like many of my poems, it describes a series of small events and feels more like a corrupted scene from a novel than a stand-alone poem. It's a short tale of a brother and sister cleaning out the garage-workspace of their genius, estranged and recently deceased cousin. It opens as follows...

All the lines are in lowercase and of sporadic length, every so often a single random word is isolated and highlighted. These are the words that were isolated throughout the poem.

//enigma //a test of patience //satisfied //memorized

I adore this poem and it feels strangely personal (my own experiences often slip into my work unconsciously like fears finding their place in dreams) as a creative I fear the idea that a lot of my work and unwritten ideas will never be read or known. The poem focuses on one of the cousin's creations, a geometric pattern drawn in chalk on the concrete floor. This pattern, its design obsessive and laid out like a triggerless trap takes over the narrative of the poem. The characters wash it away and the pattern, the physical manifestation of this dead cousins genius clings to the idea of being appreciated, recognized.

[image description: a boy sits up against a wall in a barren green and blue-tinted room, to the right of the image, is a window showing trees outside and beneath it a gas heater is attached to the wall. The boy's wearing a similar orange shirt and on the wall beside him are words, 'it blends and swirls with the oiled water and tidals along the length of the driveway to passer-by's what remains of it asks, begs, to be, memorised.' /end id]

I wrote 'floor-bound...' in a day and made subsequent edits over the course of a couple of days, I tend to write out my ideas and make minor changes to word choice and sentence length before I add in the details that make each poem unique. The isolation of individual letters was a way to almost mimic the process of looking in a cluttered space you'll see something recognizable and latch onto it.

Status: Submitted

[image description: A girl with long black hair, olive skin and a tired solemn expression face forward, an unlit cigarette held loosely in her mouth. She stands in a red elevator, the doors are closed and on the left on the image is the metal switchboard showing she has reached level 12. On her right is the word, 'Peephole'. /end id]

Peephole is a mirrored poem and is split into 'Inside', and 'Outside' with Inside, aligned to the left and Outside, aligned to the right, they are reflective of each other, mirrored. Peephole is about a young drunk woman staying inside her boyfriend's cramped apartment inspired by the 43-Square-Foot rooms in South Korea and an image from the article below inspired the entirety of this poem.

She, aware that the apartment seems to reject her, steps out into the hallway, the 'Outside' which feels apocalyptic with a burning wining sun and a ghost standing by the elevator, a personification of her sickness silently assessing how she is still alive and if she could find her way home in this state. The women in turn assess how this hallway faintly reminds her of the one from 'The Shining' leading into a breaking of the fourth wall.

[image description: A photograph that looks similar to a corrupted piece of film, tinted red and showing a woman's profile looking toward the right. Words on the left of the image read, 'I take an imaginary drag as if setting the scene of some ninety's horror, slasher, mounting suspense with the final girl, alone, a lonely lamb how easy would it be to just end a film right here.' /end id]

The tone of the poem is gritty, realistic and almost elusive in its design. I love writing poems without intending to care about its audience, with no closure, no clarity, no kindness. This poem is an amalgamation of all the recent media I've consumed, 'The Shining', Final Girl, Wikipedia dives into the housing crisis and psychological horror. I love writing poems that reflect a blend of culture, using language as a way to implement distinctive voices in my writing.

[image description: Another room tinted green, on the bottom of the image head barely in frame is a women looking off into the distance, above the cigarrete she holds red smoke reflecting in the shine on her face twirls and unfurls. Text reads, 'Tiger balm and salt, "kapuahi ahi" his whisper hurts my ears and sounds like, toungue on velvet, tooth in cheek.' /end id]

Status: Submitted

[image description: a close up of a brides face covered by a sheer veil in front of a black background, her eyes are tinted with red eyeshadow and she looks forward with a bored stare. Large text in the upper left-hand corner reads, 'Chekhov'. /end id]

Chekhov, my most recent poem is- as the title suggests- from the perspective of a gun, a woman on her wedding day is left at the altar by a cheating groom and hunts him down in the orchard venue with an heirloom of a gun. I love the perspective of this poem, the way it slowly reveals the origin of the 'voice' and grows darker and darker as the wedding dress soils and darkens with dirt and blood. Few of my poems spur from ideas rather than images but the idea of a furious bride filled with anguish and horror brought this poem to life.

[image description: a young bride looking behind her as she runs toward a patch of dark trees in the middle of a field. One hand holds up the edge of her white dress, it's evening. Text on the left-hand side of the image reads, 'Darling when my steel feels soft, revoke your vows and kiss something just as cold and cocky. /end id]

This poem is split into three stanzas, before the wedding, during and the evolving aftermath. I feel like I could extend this into a short story saving the strange gunpoint perspective till the final scene.

Status: Completing

[image description: A black and white image of a boy looking up, his expression a mix of horror and fear while blades point down at him and hold steady inches from his neck. The image is a still from "Ivan the Terrible" by Sergei Eisenstein. Text aside it reads, 'The Sound of Hamlet Rehearsed. /end id]

The sound of Hamlet Rehearsed, inspired by my own recent exploration of scriptwriting and theatre. The sound of Hamlet Rehearsed is about a boy being held accountable during a faux court hearing, on stage on opening night. The narrative slowly switches from fiction to reality as it dawns on him that the punishment is about to be dealt and he struggles with understanding how much of his reaction is performance or authentic. It's structured in a sporadic unbroken series of words and moments.

Tone-deaf touchtone tipping point Ziplock bags and scented zip ties off script the boards atop the trap door tremble imagine the conductor beneath torch amongst teeth briefly making out direction from diction.

Status: Editing

Those are the poems I've been working on! I'm not going to write any more poetry until I come to my poetry course next trimester and instead are going to focus on short stories (I'm developing two right now, three-course meal and Wren versus the Russian Government) and continuing by Worldbuilding Diaries series.

-E

[puppy-prose]

Hey there! I saw that you were taking requests and I thought I'd drop you a line. I'm obsessed with Geralt/Jaskier right now, so anything that you write would be amazing. Two prompts that I have in mind are 1) College!AU where Jaskier and Geralt are sharing a room in student accommodation. Jaskier has the hots for Geralt (obvs) and thinks he's being sneaky having a wank at night but Geralt totally knows ;) also 2) Geralt as a werewolf. I dig your kinks list, so if either of those take your fancy

I'd love to read what you come up with. The smuttier, the better imo! warnings // mild rape fantasy, spit as lube, light/unintentional voyeurism

It wasn’t fair, Jaskier decided, that somehow, he’d ended up with one of the sexiest men in the whole college as his dormmate. 

Geralt had everything. The muscles, the brains, the kindness. He was mysterious and gruff, but welcoming and warm once one got to know him. He got straight A’s, looked like he belonged to a motor gang, and was an incredibly considerate roommate--a fact that Jaskier had to not only get used to, but also absorb some himself, if only to show Geralt that he was worth sticking around with and not ask for a transfer. 

After all, being in the same dorm meant that he got to see Geralt in many stages. He got to see him sweaty and tired after coming back from the gym; he got to see him damp from the shower, his unfairly gorgeous white hair still dripping down the lines of his neck despite Geralt’s attempts at getting them decently dry. He got to see Geralt wolf down food when he missed a meal for some reason or another--got to watch him as he did the dishes every time he cooked like some god of roommate-ing or something--got to be there when Geralt was sleepy and yawning, his unfairly sharp canine teeth on display, his warm eyes soft, his entire body screaming vulnerability. Hell, sometimes Jaskier even got to touch, combing out his hair when Geralt had had enough of it, patching him up when he inevitably got in another fight trying to protect someone or another. 

So, yeah. Jaskier had maybe-kind-of-really fallen head over heels for Geralt. So what? No big deal. He’d had crushes before; he’d pined and whined and sought out love where it wasn’t reciprocated. But gods. He’d never had to spend night after night, sleeping in the same room as that crush, their beds on opposite walls, so fucking close. He’d never had to go through the inevitable stage of jacking off to that crush nearly every night knowing that that person was right there and, in Geralt’s case, had really kind of freaky super-hearing. 

Didn’t stop him from doing it anyway, though.

Turned on his side, facing the wall away from Geralt, Jaskier let his hands slide slowly under his blankets. It was easy to get his pajama pants down, pushing them to his knees, his cock already half-hard just from the sight he’d been treated to just before they’d turned the lights out--Geralt, grunting and huffing as he stretched out his shoulders and back from a long workout session, shirtless, his muscles rippling, tensing, loosening… Jaskier shoved his bottom lip between his teeth as he conjured the memory up with ease, eyes fluttering shut as he imagined it. 

Those muscles would look so good above him. Geralt, flexing and strong, bearing him down into the mattress. Gods, Geralt could take whatever he wanted, he realized, and the thought made his cock twitch in his hand, plumping up more. So it was going to be one of those fantasies tonight, he supposed.

Sliding his hand back up, he reached below his pillow. Thankfully, Geralt was also considerate enough to generally leave Jaskier’s things alone, unless they were directly in his way. Which meant he had no idea about the bottle of lube that practically lived somewhere in his bed at all times, in case he brought someone home--or in case something like this happened. He pulled it out and uncorked it, trying to muffle the pop of the cap as quietly as he could in his side, before dribbling some onto his palm. Again, he used his body to muffle the noise as he closed the lid and left it beside him, hand returning to his cock once again. 

Yeah, he thought. Geralt was so fucking strong. It wouldn’t take much at all for him to pin Jaskier down. He could drag an arm behind his back, hold it there, keep him pressed into the bed. His fingers, perhaps wet by his own spit, Geralt having shoved them into his mouth to keep him quiet, keep him from raising any alarm, would slide between his legs, push against his hole. It’d be humiliating, his own roommate opening him up, none too gentle about it, spreading him--and gods, Jaskier knows he’d be moaning by then, hope of fleeing gone, desire to flee gone. Maybe Geralt would make fun of him for it, too.

Choking down a whine, Jaskier shifted in the bed. He turned onto his back, spreading his legs open as much as he could, trousers kicked down to his ankles. His hand fell from his cock, down past it, sliding between the cheeks of his own ass until he could press one, then two slick fingers inside. It burned a little; he really should have added more lube. But that slight pain was perfect for the way his thoughts were going. 

Keeping his eyes closed, he let his mind return. Imagining a weight on his chest, pretending the bed at his back was Geralt bearing down on him and the heavy blankets atop him was the bed he was being shoved into--it was very hard to open himself on his stomach while remaining lying down to avoid Geralt’s detection, he’d found--he pushed his free hand under his body, pinning it behind his back. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best he could do.

“Fucking slut,” he imagined Geralt would say, scissoring inside of him, his own fingers mimicking the fantasy. “Can’t wait for me to take you, can you? You’re already wet for me, like a bitch in heat.”  

Geralt, surely, was too nice to actually say any of that. Jaskier wanted, though. He wanted so fucking badly. That gravelly voice, the uncaring drawl he’d have, just like all the times he’d warned off assholes on their nights out at pubs or wherever, just before punches would start flying. Only with him, Geralt would push in a third finger, make him take the intrusion whether he was ready or not, and--

“G-Ger…”

Jaskier twisted his hand free from behind his back, shoving it flat against his own mouth. Fuck. He shook from the strain, his cock brushing against the blankets above him, and he wanted nothing more than to rock up into them--but he stayed still, very very still, listening as Geralt gave a soft sigh from the other side of the room, readjusted himself, and settled back down. 

He controlled his breathing as best he could for a few more minutes, wanting to make sure. If Geralt found out about this… Jaskier wouldn’t be surprised if he was tossed out on his ass, perhaps with a report to the RA, or even the Dean of the school. No, he had to be very, very careful about this. Even if he didn’t want to be.

But nothing happened during those minutes. So carefully, cautiously, Jaskier started to move his fingers again. He’d gotten up to three, just like his fantasy, before having to stop. The minutes had taken some of the burn away, though, and he had to stretch them out, fingers pulling apart to get it back, his eyes rolling up into his head at the sheer pleasure that sparked through him. It felt so fucking good, and while they weren’t Geralt’s fingers, it didn’t take away the heat that coursed through him, heady and strong. 

He kept them stretched, kept them wide apart as he imagined Geralt pulling his own fingers back out. Maybe Geralt would finally use the lube on his cock--or maybe, maybe, he'd make Jaskier choke on it instead, get it wet and slick from his own spit. And gods, that was a thought, and before he knew it, he had his own fingers in his mouth, hole fluttering around the new emptiness, his breathing hard, nearly panting around the digits pressing wide and deep into his mouth. It was a messy business; thank goodness tomorrow was his laundry day. But it was too good to stop, and he was shivering with want, hips giving tiny twitches against the blankets when he finally withdrew his fingers. 

“See?” Geralt would say. “Such a cockslut. Getting off on sucking my dick. Bet you could come like that, couldn’t you? I could force my cock down into your throat, make you gag on it, and you’d take it just as well as if I were fucking you.”  

Another little whimper escaped him, but Jaskier was, decidedly, a little too far gone to care. He pushed his fingers back inside of himself, not bothering to take it slow, his back arching a few degrees off the bed in reaction. He had to shove his hand over his mouth again to keep his sounds in, to keep from begging and keening like he wanted to, caught up in the fantasy, in the thought of Geralt fucking into him, making him take every inch, making him raw and aching and sore, filling him to the fucking brim--

There was a whisper of sound, a brush of air, just enough to get Jaskier’s attention, and when he opened his eyes-- oh fuck.  

A dark face stood over him, silver strands of hair framing him. Geralt. Geralt. Oh, fucking shit.  

Jaskier pulled his fingers out of himself, the obscenely wet sound of it suddenly loud in the silent dorm, the blankets on him too hot, his mind blanking for something to say. “Ger--Geralt!” he squeaked, dropping his hand from his mouth, his pupils still blown wide, his cock still hard and full beneath the very meager protection of the sheets. “This--this isn’t--it’s not what it, uh, what it looks like, I’m just--”

“Having a wank with my name in your mouth?” Geralt rumbled back at him, his brow raised. Jaskier withered, his lips pressing together. He’d really cocked this one up, hadn’t he? Shit. How was he going to make this up? Would he even be given the chance to try to fix it?

“I’m--look I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, let me just--”

A hand fitted over his mouth--but this time, it wasn’t Jaskier’s own. No, it was Geralt’s, his callouses rough on his soft lips, shutting him up. He swallowed hard, nearly audible, not sure what Geralt was going to do. 

“You really should be more quiet,” Geralt told him. Then, to Jaskier’s surprise, the hand turned, and-- fuck. Geralt pushed two fingers against his lips, making them part, pressing in and sliding the pads of the digits against his tongue, pushing it down. “Every night, Jaskier. Every night for the past week. So stupidly loud. You really thought I wouldn’t notice?” He bent down, then, breaking the distance between them. Jaskier whimpered, not trying to close his mouth, nearly cross eyed in an attempt to see Geralt clearly. “You really think I wouldn’t want to fuck you if you asked?”

Oh. Oh.  

Geralt must have seen the realization in his eyes. A smirk pulled up his lips; the next moment, Geralt snagged the blankets from the bed, throwing them unceremoniously to the floor. He pulled his fingers from his mouth, only to wipe them on Jaskier’s cheek, spreading his own spit. Jaskier whined. “Geralt, I--”

“Shush,” the other man said. He got up on the bed with him, pulling Jaskier’s legs around him, letting him dig his heels into the small of his back. Jaskier realized, with a thrill, that Geralt had gotten rid of his own trousers on the way over. His head threw back as their cocks pressed together, Geralt rutting down onto him mercilessly. “You don’t want everyone to hear, do you?” His hands found Jaskier’s wrists; pulling them up, he pinned them above his head with one hand, those incredible muscles flexing, the slats of moonlight through the window throwing each one into sharp relief. Jaskier opened and closed his hands, but didn’t fight back--didn’t want to. 

Geralt’s free hand wrapped around them both. He gave a choked sob, doing his best to bite down on it, keep it in. He was spared, though, by Geralt bending and kissing him. It was a brutal thing. Tongue and teeth and force, Geralt opened him up, licked his way inside his mouth. It was so much--too much--and his lips were swollen and red when Geralt pulled back to instead start sucking on his throat, teeth gnawing bruises to the surface, tongue soothing the sting of them. They were high, too, a few just below his jaw; there was no way he’d be able to hide these marks. Geralt was making it very clear that Jaskier was owned. That Jaskier was his. And fuck, that had the power to turn him into a writhing mess, only keeping from babbling because Geralt had commanded him to be quiet. 

Geralt’s hand moved from their cocks, then. He slid it down to his entrance, pushing two fingers inside—then grunting with surprise before adding a third, resistance appearing only at that point. “Fuck,” he growled, biting down on the crook of Jaskier’s neck and shoulder, making his entire body feel like it was turning to mush. “Thought you’d only gotten to two fingers. But you were really fucking yourself, weren’t you? No wonder you were moaning so loud.” Unwittingly, he mimicked Jaskier from only minutes before; he spread his fingers, forcing them wide open. This time, though, Jaskier couldn’t stop the desperate cry the fell from his lips, hips jerking, tears springing to his eyes from the delicious burn, the wonderful stretch. 

He kept pushing, kept opening Jaskier until he was practically sobbing, his thighs trembling against the sides of Geralt’s hips. Finally, though, he seemed to take mercy on him. 

He withdrew his fingers, instead grabbing Jaskier’s hands and pressing them to either side of his head, holding him down. With Jaskier’s legs around him, it was easy to rock their hips together, his cock sliding obscenely in the crevice of his ass, snagging on the rim of his entrance with each push upwards. “I’m gonna fuck you, Jask,” he growled to the man below him, who simply nodded frantically, eager. “Gonna make you scream.”  

“Please,” Jaskier agreed frantically, nodding, flushed red and unable to hold still, twitching and shivering underneath Geralt. “Please, please, I want you to! Please, fuck me!”

Geralt’s chuckle was low, dark. He nipped Jaskier’s lower lip, carefully lined himself up—and slammed in. 

His promise came true. Jaskier howled, his back arching, his heels dragging Geralt in closer. He made for a beautiful sight, utterly wrecked from just the first thrust, and Geralt was more than happy to make sure he had his fill. He didn’t hold back, either. Jaskier was already stretched. So Geralt set a brutal, punishing pace. 

The slap of their bodies was obscene in the room, Jaskier’s cries of Geralt’s name both embarrassing and a relief to finally be able to say without repercussions. Geralt kept his hands pinned—again, no doubt bruises would be his friend come tomorrow, and Jaskier couldn’t be more excited—as he kept pounding into him, pushing him into the mattress, the bed frame creaking with the force of it all. 

Geralt kissed him again, rough, taking what he wanted. He seemed to speed up; Jaskier could do nothing but take it, delirious with pleasure, the pressure in the low of his hips building and building. 

Then, Geralt bit down on his throat, just below his ear. “Come for me,” he commanded, gravelly and dark and powerful—so much better than how Jaskier had imagined it. And so much more effective. A few thrusts later and Jaskier practically screamed, his body going taut as he came, painting between them white with his release, cock twitching until he was empty. But Geralt—Geralt kept going. 

It dragged pained whimpers from him, the overstimulation too much, too soon. “I’ve got you,” Geralt told him, soothing him, settling him into accepting it. “Fuck, Jask. I’ve got you. Gonna fill you up. Make you take every last drop of my cum.” 

Head thrown back, at Geralt’s mercy, Jaskier could do nothing but let him fuck into him, trembling through every inch. But finally— finally Geralt came. He snarled with it, his teeth snapping into Jaskier’s shoulder, holding him down as he pumped him full of his seed. He rocked into him, slower, shallower, as if trying to push his cum further into Jaskier, only stopping when he was growing soft inside him. 

With care, Geralt pulled out. He shushed the tired whine that fell from Jaskier’s lips, turning him on his side and sidling up behind him. Jaskier floated pleasantly, sated and wrecked, utterly fucked out. Gods, his fantasies had never come close. Double gods— his fantasies might actually become a reality, now. Holy shit.

“Next time,” Geralt said, hooking a leg over top of his, keeping him tucked in close. “Just wake me up when you get horny.”

Oh, Jaskier thought. Hopefully Geralt didn’t mind missing a lot of sleep.