#Platinum Coating Machine

[sixeyesonathiel]

PANOPTICON — tenant!satoru x cctv operator!reader

cw/cn : voyeurism, masturbation, psychological tension and obsession, degradation kink, 2.2k wc. 18+ only, MDNI.

a/ n : wrote this with this fic in mind, premise was just so good i had to do my own take with it, yummerz <3 part two someday!

tokyo’s crown jewel, they call it. the obsidian spire.

a high-rise so exclusive it’s practically a myth, its black glass facade slicing the tokyo skyline. ninety floors of wealth and secrets, where the air smells of money and the shadows hide sins. the lobby alone could swallow your old apartment whole—marble floors veined with gold, chandeliers dripping crystal, air so crisp it stings your lungs. the tenants? ceos, diplomats, faces you’ve seen on headlines but never in person. they glide through, untouchable, their lives a mystery behind keycard-locked doors.

you’re just the night watch. the graveyard shift concierge-slash-cctv operator, tucked in a surveillance room that hums like a living thing. thirty-two screens, a glowing wall of eyes, each one a window into their world. your world is smaller—coffee gone cold, a chair that creaks, a badge that says you belong but doesn’t mean it. on paper, it’s simple. monitor. log. report. keep the machine running.

nobody told you the screens would pull you in.

nobody warned you about floor seventy.

nobody warned you about him.

satoru gojo. penthouse 70-B.

a name you didn’t know until that first night, but now it’s carved into your pulse, a rhythm you can’t shake. he’s a creature of habit—gym at 10:00 p.m., pool at midnight, smoking shirtless on his balcony by 2:00, always lit like a stage, always alone. always just close enough to the camera to make your skin burn.

you tell yourself it’s protocol. safety. your job.

but you don’t track the others like this. don’t grind into your chair when they stretch, don’t replay their footage, don’t whisper their names through trembling fingers as they move, unaware, under your gaze. only him. only satoru. his body in the jacuzzi, head tipped back, hands sliding over his chest like a lover’s—your hands, in your dreams.

he doesn’t smile at the cameras. doesn’t wink.

but god, he knows. he lingers too long in the lobby mirror, adjusting his tie with fingers that drag slow, deliberate, down his throat. lets his robe slip open in the sauna, just enough to tease. pauses in the elevator, fixing his hair, his reflection a taunt you can’t look away from.

you consume it. devour it. a starving thing, clawing at scraps of him through glass and wire.

it started three weeks ago. your first shift.

your workplace was new to you then, its weight still sinking into your bones. the surveillance room felt like a cockpit, all blinking lights and quiet menace, the screens alive with the building’s pulse. you were still learning the system—camera toggles, tenant logs, the web interface that mapped every floor, every door. your hands shook, fumbling with the controls, nerves raw from the pressure of not screwing up.

then he walked in.

lobby camera, center frame. 1:47 a.m.

a man—tall, lean, platinum hair catching the chandelier glow like a halo. black coat unbuttoned, shirt half-untucked, tie loose like he’d tugged it free mid-conversation. he moved like water, smooth and unhurried, every step a claim on the space around him.

your breath hitched.

he stopped at the lobby desk, empty at this hour, and leaned against it, one elbow propped, head tilted back. his throat—long, pale, exposed—gleamed under the light, and you stared, frozen, as his fingers brushed his jaw, slow, almost lazy, like he was touching himself for you.

you didn’t mean to zoom in.

your finger slipped, nudged the control, and the camera tightened on him—his jawline, sharp enough to cut, the faint curve of his lips, the way his lashes framed eyes you couldn’t see but felt, even through the screen. your mouth went dry. your pulse throbbed, low and heavy, between your thighs.

he didn’t look at the camera. didn’t need to.

he just stood there, a god in tailored black, and you were already falling. already his.

“who…” you whispered, voice cracking, barely audible over the hum of the room.

your hands moved before you could stop them. the web interface—tenant directory, access logs. you pulled it up, fingers trembling as you typed, cross-referencing the timestamp, the lobby feed, the elevator he’d step into.

floor seventy. penthouse 70-B.

satoru gojo.

the name burned itself into you, a brand you’d carry. you stared at it, at the screen, at him, still lingering in the lobby, now turning toward the elevator. he paused, just for a moment, and ran a hand through his hair, slow, deliberate, fingers dragging through platinum strands like he knew you were watching. like he wanted you to.

your thighs pressed together.

you felt it—the heat, the ache, the pull of him through the screen. you sat there, shaking, staring as he stepped into the elevator, as the doors closed, as the number ticked up to seventy.

you didn’t sleep when you got home. couldn’t.

you saw his throat, his fingers, the way he moved, every time you closed your eyes.

now, weeks later, it’s worse.

he’s a habit you can’t break. a drug you don’t want to.

tonight, he’s on the balcony, not the gym. 2:13 a.m. cigarette between his fingers, smoke curling around his lips like a lover’s caress. shirtless, of course, because he knows—god, he has to know—how it wrecks you. his chest gleams under the city lights, lean muscle shifting as he leans against the railing, head tipped back, throat bared like an offering.

your finger hovers over the balcony feed. trembles. taps.

the screen zooms in, and you’re gone.

“satoru…” you whisper, voice raw, breaking on his name.

the surveillance room is a tomb, dim and buzzing, your only company the cold coffee at your elbow and the chair that groans under your weight. your shoe taps the desk’s base, a nervous rhythm, but it’s not enough to ground you. nothing is.

you shouldn’t.

you really, really shouldn’t.

but you lean in, elbows braced, forehead dropping into one hand as the other slips between your thighs. just over your pants, at first, palm pressing against the damp heat already soaking through. you’re shaking, breath caught in your throat, the pressure hitting too sharp, too fast.

he exhales, smoke spilling from his lips, and you whimper, a tiny, choked sound, as your fingers press harder, grinding slow circles that make your hips twitch. shame burns your cheeks, but it’s not enough to stop. it’s never enough.

he shifts, one hand sliding down his chest, fingers brushing the edge of his waistband—low, too low, always too low—and you’re panting now, thighs squeezing tight, the chair creaking as you rock against your hand.

“fuck…” you hiss, barely audible, but it feels like a scream.

you imagine him knowing. imagine him turning, ocean eyes piercing the lens, that cruel, lazy smirk curling his lips as he sees you—sees you falling apart, sees you desperate, sees you his. you imagine his voice, low and smooth, calling you filthy, calling you his little voyeur, telling you to beg for him.

your other hand tangles in your hair, pulling, muffling the sounds you can’t keep in. you’re pathetic. you know it. every night, the same surrender, the same ruin. and still, your stomach twists, your pulse hammers, like it’s the first time he’s stripped you bare with a glance.

he flicks the cigarette away. leans further back, arms spread along the railing, chest flexing, abs tightening. a performance. a fucking taunt.

your fingers slip under your waistband, find slick, find heat, and you moan, soft, broken, as you curl them inside, chasing the ache he’s carved into you. you’re trembling, hips jerking, the pressure building too fast, too sharp.

“please… satoru…” you’re begging now, nonsense spilling from your lips, tears pricking your eyes as you grind against your hand. you want his fingers, his mouth, his cock—want him to pin you down, to fuck you until you’re sobbing, until you’re nothing but his.

the screen blurs. your vision blurs.

he turns, just slightly, and for a moment—god, fuck—you think he looks. not at the camera, not quite, but close enough, his lips twitching, almost a smirk, like he feels you, knows you’re there, knows you’re coming undone for him.

the orgasm cuts through you like glass—swift, brutal, unrelenting. your body jerks, folds in on itself, thighs squeezing tight around your trembling hand as your hips lurch forward. your other palm flies to your mouth, barely stifling the broken sob that claws its way out. you come fast, filthy, slick flooding your fingers as your eyes stay locked on him—on the way he just stands there, untouched, untouchable, claiming you without ever lifting a finger.

you slump back, shaking, panting, the screen still burning with his image.

he doesn’t move. doesn’t glance up. but that almost-smirk lingers, like he knows.

your fingers fumble, minimizing the feed. you close your eyes, bite your cheek until you taste copper, but it’s no use.

it’s just the same old regret with no attempt to change.

the morning after, you’re late.

first mistake.

the service elevator’s down, stairwell’s sealed, and your badge won’t open the freight. no choice but to take the main lift, even with the day staff still lingering, even with the high-rise’s elite drifting in for their shadowed deals. you tap the button, fix your collar in the glass pane, tell yourself it’s fine.

it’s not.

the doors slide open, and he’s there.

satoru gojo. seventy-B.

leaning against the panel, one hand in his pocket, black coat draped over his frame like it was tailored for sin. tie loose, platinum hair mussed, like someone’s fingers—or the wind—already claimed it. his presence fills the space, heavy, suffocating, and your mouth goes dry, your pulse a frantic drumbeat in your throat.

he doesn’t speak. doesn’t blink. just tilts his head, gaze sliding from your shoes to your throat, lingering there—too long, always too long—until you forget how to breathe.

you step in. no choice. the doors are closing.

you take the opposite side, careful, too careful, not to stand too close. but it’s useless. his scent—clean, sharp, something faintly sweet—curls around you, and your heart’s pounding so loud you’re sure he hears it. sure he feels it, like a predator sensing prey.

floor 1 to 70.

an eternity of silence, broken only by the elevator’s hum and the soft tap of his fingers—once, twice—against his thigh. you steal a glance, catch his reflection in the mirrored walls. his jawline, sharp as a blade. his shoulders, rolling under the coat. the veins on his hand, the glint of his watch.

you’re trembling. thighs pressed tight, hands curled into fists to keep from reaching out. you’ve seen him bare, seen him slick with sweat, seen him stretch for your cameras like he’s offering himself. you’ve touched yourself to the shape of his hips, cried his name into your palm, and now he’s here, real, close enough to touch, close enough to ruin you.

your lips part. you almost speak.

he turns.

slow. deliberate. like he planned it.

his eyes—ocean-blue, half-lidded, unreadable—pin you in place. they flick to your mouth, then back to your eyes, and you flinch, a tiny shudder you can’t hide.

“hi,” you whisper, voice cracking, too small, too desperate.

he doesn’t answer. not at first. just watches, lets the silence stretch until it’s a noose around your neck. then, low and smooth, like ice sliding down your spine:

“we really don’t have to do this, do we?”

his voice slices through you—sleek and precise, like a scalpel. it doesn’t raise, doesn’t crack. it lands. right in your stomach, clean as a knife to soft flesh. shame floods in fast. need follows close behind. the ache of being seen carves itself into your ribs. you flinch—sharper this time—fingers spasming at your sides, nails biting into your skin like you're trying to hold yourself in.

“r-right,” you stammer, too fast, too weak, and your eyes dart to the floor, to the numbers ticking up. floor 33. floor 52. you bite your cheek, taste blood, try to hold yourself together, but you’re unraveling, and he knows it. he sees it.

his gaze doesn’t leave you. not for a second. it’s heavy, burning, stripping you bare, and you’re shaking now, thighs squeezing tighter, heat pooling where you don’t want it. you’re desperate—god, you’re so desperate—for him to say something else, to step closer, to pin you against the wall and make you beg.

you imagine it. his hands on your throat, fingers pressing just enough to make you gasp. his mouth, hot and cruel, whispering how pathetic you are, how you’re his little whore, watching him night after night. you imagine him pulling your hair, bending you over, fucking you until you can’t think, until you’re nothing but his.

floor 61.

floor 70.

the bell dings.

he steps out, unhurried, like the world waits for him. like you wait for him. and before the doors close, he pauses by the mirrored panel, adjusts his tie. his hand slides down his chest, slow, deliberate, fingers grazing the waistband of his pants.

he smiles.

not at you. at his reflection. but it’s enough. it’s too much.

the doors seal shut, and you’re alone, trembling, thighs slick, hands clawing at your own arms to keep from falling apart.

you’re not even at the security room yet, but you already know that tonight, you’ll come harder than ever. to his voice. to that smile. to the way he looked at you like he already owns you.

because he does.

he fucking does.

[julietsbody]

cherry cream pie

words : 3,142

tags : 18+!!!!!!!!!! mdni , p in v sex , semi - public sex , fingering , sadism , yes coriolanus is a pervert… peacekeeper!snow , district 10!! no aftercare mentioned!!! coriolanus is also just an asshole in this , per usual

p.s. : this is also posted on my ao3! ( divider by s-hyia btw )

it’s safe to say some of the peacekeepers got drunk on their power. 

one of them, especially, was the one with a platinum blonde buzzcut, you didn’t know his name, but often times he would stop by your shop and either be extremely kind, or a complete asshole. 

coriolanus dreamed of control, craved it. a sickening thought, to imagine the bruised skin, deep purples, burgundy reds, bright yellows. the ideas of making someone cry, hot tears rushing down their flushed cheeks, he imagines his fingers dipping into their skin, leaving dents. 

the idea of someone scarlet from his touch. 

sadistic, that’s what many would call it, call him. 

but he denies it, heavily, even though deep down he knows he has a certain hunger for corruption, for control. his gaze is calloused on you, he tends to always station himself near your stand, watch you smile at the costumers, greet them with warm words and soft exchanges. 

he watches your skirt threaten up your thighs whenever you bend over, chastely grabbing items without any knowledge of the man who’s imagining fucking you from behind. 

sometimes you do acknowledge it, though, you never share the looks, but he watches you shift uncomfortably under his gaze, the edges of your lips dipping to a frown. 

he imagines what colors he could paint on your skin from his harsh touches, when he grabs your jaw roughly, would it leave dents of white where the pads of his fingers dug into your skin with pink outlines? when he slaps your ass, would it leave a hand mark? when he bites your neck, would it leave teeth marks? when he makes you bleed, how long would it take for you to heal? when he bruises you, what colors would appear to haunt you? 

it was a priority for coriolanus to find that out. 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“do i scare you?” coriolanus questions once, noticing the way you immediately glare at him whenever he’s around. 

you shake your head slowly, lips barely parted, he wants to shove his fingers between those lips, pry your mouth open and spit down your throat. 

the skin under his right eye twitches, and he continues, “you sure?” 

you hesitate, “yeah—“ 

“you don’t like me?” he swipes a finger on the vanilla cream you always top the pies with, bringing it up to his lips, “i keep you safe, you know.” 

“you intimidate me,” you respond reluctantly, watching his lips move around his finger, relishing in the taste of the buttercream. 

“so i scare you,” he corrects, and curtly smiles when your frown deepens. 

“you don’t,” your southern drawl, with that sweet sugar - coated voice, it’s enough to have him imagining you moaning out his name. coriolanus, don’ stop, ‘m gonna cum… suddenly, his uniform is tighter, and the air is hotter. 

“why do i intimidate you, then?” 

he acts as if he doesn’t carry a fully loaded machine gun with him at all times, but you ignore that, “no.” 

you don’t want to entertain him, you see it in his eyes that he thrives off of this, he adores to see people cower underneath him, fear him. 

“say it,” his voice is firmer, he’s trying to scare you into saying it. 

right, power trip. 

“if i tell you, you’ll use it against me.” you confess. 

his head tips up, a new tint shading over his eyes, “how do you know that?” 

“it’s just what i know,” you cross your arms, and he notices the way it accentuates your breasts, pushes them together and pulls them up, making the plush flesh more noticeable, nipple threatening to peak out from your dress, “it’s just the way you are.” 

coriolanus doesn’t say anything, his eyes moving up to your collarbone, he imagines biting it, teeth sinking into the thin flesh and grazing the bone. bone against bone. 

“you’re trying to find what makes me vulnerable, what makes me scared,” your tongue moves out your mouth, wetting your chapped lips. 

“is it working?” he wants to reach in, to touch you, to pull your soft flesh onto him. 

“no,” you move away, and again, coriolanus is stuck there, alone, with his fantasies. 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

coriolanus doesn’t like to lose, especially when he’s obsessed with something, he doesn’t like to let it go. his recent obsession was you, in your gingham prints, thin denims, your sweet scents, and the way your pupils always dilate when you see him. 

“is your father here?” he startles you, at your own home, watching you jump in fright and your hand quickly moves onto your chest to ease your pulse when you realize it’s just him. 

how did he know where you lived? 

“no,” you exhale, humiliation heating up your cheeks. you were wearing more casual clothing, not your fancy dress, just some shorts and a gingham top. he wants to rip the fabric apart, to wrap his fingers around your throat, leave bruises, “how do you know where i live?” 

he shrugs, “someone told me.” 

so he was asking about you, you glare into his cocky smirk, “who?” 

“i can’t say, doll,” he memorizes the way your ass peaks out from the denim of your shorts when you try to turn away from him, and he moves closer to grab your wrist, “why do you hate me?” 

you inhale, staring up at him, “i don’t hate you, let go—“ 

he doesn’t let go, “you do hate me.” 

“you’re tryin’ to make me vulnerable, officer, please—“ 

“do i make you vulnerable?” 

and suddenly you stop, you stop trying to resist his touch, you stop staring at him angrily. and it becomes unbearably clear why you hate him so much, you hate him because you’re attracted to him, you hate him because you desire him, because you blush every time his teal eyes crawl down your frame, because you get shy every time he’s around— and being aggressive is your way of hiding it. 

“you do more than that,” you admit, swallowing. 

“yeah?” his other hand moves to hold your jaw, pads of his fingers squishing the skin together ever so slightly, watching the way your lips pucker when he does. 

“offiicer—“ you exhale, and he only smiles. 

“do you think about me, doll?” 

“yes, and i hate you because you won’t leave my mind.” 

truth, all you think about is the officer, the way his hands flex and his joints pop when he does, the way he grips his gun with ease, the way his muscles flex underneath his uniform. the way he’s so, so strong— strong enough to throw someone around with ease, the way your thighs rub together whenever he stations himself near your stand. 

“what do you think about, when you think of me?” 

his jaw ticks, and yours loosens, “how strong you are.” 

“is that so?” his eyebrow cocks for a second, and your eyes flicker to the hand wrapped around your wrist, engulfing it with ease. 

“yes, and the way you look at me— like you want to eat me, to hurt me, to do things to me,” the things in question, to fuck you. 

“do you want me to?” he admires the way your cheeks flush. 

“yes,” you hush out, barely audible. 

“what was that?” 

you glare up at him, again, “officer.” 

“doll,” he threatens, nails digging in to your skin, immediately making you grow submissive, “repeat it.” 

you hiss at the sharp feeling of his nails drawing crimson from your skin, “yes, yes— officer.” 

“did you touch yourself, thinking of me?” 

you nod. 

coriolanus’ lips are against yours when he slots his against yours, teeth clashing against teeth, a hungry kiss. he was biting at the delicate skin of your lips in a way that makes your body writhe, prying your lips apart and forcing his tongue into your mouth. he wants to brand you as his own, wants to carve SNOW’s into your skin and watch the blood drip from each letter. 

his tongue curls as it moves around your mouth, a possessiveness to it, a desire to taste the sweetness that coats you. his lips were unrelenting, taking advantage of the way you melt into his harsh touch, the way you fall pliable in it, the way you become obsessed with every way he manhandles you. 

his lips chase yours when you pull away, “my pa’s gonna be back any minute, officer—“ 

“better be quick, then, hm?” he removes his fingers from your jaw, pulling them down to your breasts and gripping them through the poorly made fabric. 

his lips move to press open mouthed kisses onto your neck, teeth nipping at the delicate skin. 

he rips the fabric apart, easily, hearing you gasp at the feeling of your breasts against the cool air, the way he takes your nipple between his fingers, rolling the delicate skin across the pads of his calloused fingers. then he pinches, and chuckles when your hips buck into him, a whine slipping from your lips. 

it was pathetic, for such a hard - headed woman like you to be brought down to being so submissive for him. 

he moves you back against a counter, his maw spreading open until his teeth are caught on your neck, biting down. your fingers clench onto the wood of the counter, hissing from the pain of his bite, “officer, that hurts—“ 

he only hums, he was glad it hurt, and when he pulled away, a metallic taste burns on his teeth. 

he kneads the flesh of your breast, pressing a gentle kiss to where he had bit you, watching the crimson that ever so slowly bubbles to the top of the broken flesh and seeps out. 

oh, how could you explain this to your pa? 

he smiles at the thought of you crying in front of your father, saying nothing happened, saying it was an animal that bit you. 

your doe eyes peer up at him, glossy from your tears, and his head only tilts to the side, finding no sympathy for the pain he inflicted upon you. his hand dips down from your breast to your denim shorts, “you okay, doll?” 

yes, coriolanus didn’t feel any guilt, but he still wants to make sure you’re okay enough to go on. 

you nod immediately, “yes, just hurts.” 

he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, catching one of the salty tears rolling down, “i’m sorry.” 

he isn’t sorry. 

his fingertips dip underneath your layers of shorts and panties, reaching to your cunt while he mumbles sweet praises, like how beautiful you look when you cry, how wet you are for him, how he’s always thought of this. 

his lips fall to your shoulder, fingers rubbing circles on your clit as his lips part again, first planting a soft kiss, then biting again. a masochistic moan slips from your lips, and he feels your wetness grow. you liked this, you liked the pain, and it makes him smile against your delicate skin. 

his fingers tease against your entrance, and when he feels your hips buck against them, trying to pull his fingers in, he moves them away. your desperate whimper only makes him laugh, admiring the way your thighs shake. 

“you’re desperate, aren’t you, doll?” his lips trail with sloppy kisses down to your breast, taking your nipple between his lips. 

“yes, yes— officer, i want—“ you exhale, a hand moving to pass through his buzzed hair, “want them inside me, please.” 

“is that so?” he’s trying to ruin you, his eyes moving up to your face, watching more tears spill from your doe eyes, the desperation all too much for you. 

“yes— i’ll be good, officer, i promise.” 

and so he plunges two fingers into you without hesitation, admiring the way you suck him in so easily, swallowing the flesh through your puffy walls. it was obscene, to hear you moan from the feeling of his long fingers moving inside of you, the wet squelches as he pumps them into you and curls them against your sweet spots. 

it was as if he knew your body better than you, yourself did, he knew how to make you cry out, how to make your back arch, your eyes squeeze shut, and your legs shake. 

he bites your tit, and your back is arching against him. 

in this moment you realize why he’s biting so much, not only does it seem like he’s trying to consume you, it’s also that he’s marking you, claiming you as his own, branding you through his teeth with every bite.

his pace quickens, making your eyes flutter shut and have your hips grinding against his fingers. 

as soon as he feels the movement of your hips, he stops. and your eyes immediately flutter open, frowning at him, “officer—“ 

“hm?” he moves up, carefully ripping off your shorts, nearly tearing the fabric when he takes your panties down as well, causing a pile of your fragmented clothes on the floor. 

he then forces your legs apart once more, delivering a harsh slap to your cunt. you whimper, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with him, to find some kind of mercy in his eyes, some part of him that wants to treat you good. you find nothing.

instead, his hand is back on your jaw, fingers trying to pry your mouth open, “open, princess.”

so your lips part, and he immediately spits down your throat, “swallow.” 

and you did, you swallow the liquid coated in his dna, and his fingers return inside of you, pounding into your cunt immediately. his hands turn mean, painful as they move onto you, nearly bruising your walls as his fingers fill you up so well. 

your body jolts with sparks of pleasure, a satisfaction you fear may be unbearable, and the fear of someone catching you seems to dissipate underneath his touch. 

his nails find themselves digging through the skin of your face again, the delicate flesh becoming bruised from him. it’s hot, the air is humid, the lava that coats your skin. it was as if you were in front the gates of hell, being tormented by your sins, and coriolanus’ mumbles of you being a filthy slut is what makes him the tormenter. 

you gasp, fingers finding his wrist and grasping it, “officer— ‘m gonna cum.. please…” 

he smiles, sharp teeth appearing underneath his lips, a wolf and a bunny, “yeah? gonna cum for me, doll?” 

you nod, whimpering in agreement as he shows absolutely no mercy for you, even allowing his thumb to swipe against your swollen clit, making your eyes roll back. he doesn’t stop until your walls are fluttering around him, legs violently shaking from the orgasm that wracks your body. 

you were sure he would be done there, but he wasn’t. his fingers pull out, and he immediately delivers another harsh slap to your cunt, making you jolt as maroon continues to pour from your neck, tracing down your collarbone and falling threatening close to your breasts. the same crimson that coats his teeth, the teeth that bit you, that wanted to consume you like you were just another one of those pies that you make. 

he moves to undo his belt, ignoring the way his gun clatters to the ground, he could care less if it went off, too. 

he was too busy drunk off the idea of what you’re going to feel like around his cock, how your walls will suck him in with pure ease, like you were molded to fit onto his cock. molded just for him, he licks the metallic crimson on the crevices of his teeth as he frees his cock, lining it up with your entrance. 

“this is gonna hurt, princess,” he murmurs out as he slowly eases in, teeth gritting at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. 

your eyes widen, pupils blown out and jaw hung slack, his cock stretching you out so much you were sure you were being split in half. 

his free hand presses against your stomach, other crawling to wrap around your neck, soaking with the pomegranate juice that poured from you. 

he feels how his cock pokes at your skin once he bottoms out, forming a bulge inside of you. cute, you were so small compared to him, he just wanted to rip you apart, to throw you around, shove you in all different positions and fuck you until you were just a drooling, sloppy, unintelligible mess. until all you could think about was his cock, and the fact that his cum was oozing from your cunt. 

his fingers pry into your skin, hips moving to snap into you with no sign of softness.  

“fuck,” you mumble out at the feeling of his cock spearing you. 

he watches the pain ridden tears slip down your cheeks, “you’re okay, princess, you’re okay.” 

this is the only time he will reassure you, hips slowing down to allow you to adjust. 

maybe he did have some mercy within him. 

it doesn’t take you long to nod up at him, signaling that he can move faster again, and he doesn’t take long to follow up with that. his hips start pounding into you again, wracking your body against the counter, he can feel it shaking, the way the floor creaks with every powerful thrust. his hand moves from your stomach, raising and delivering a sharp slap to your face. 

unprovoked? yes. but he adores the way blood rushes to your cheek, painting it a pretty pink as you sob out form the mixtures of pain and pleasure, and the overstimulation of your past orgasm following another. 

“such a pretty slut, just for me,” he mumbles out, delivering another slap to the same cheek, watching your face scrunch from the stinging pain. 

“officer,” you moan out, your orgasm fastening with each slap. 

“yes, princess?” he grits out through his teeth, nearing his orgasm as well. 

“‘m gonna cum, officer, please let me—“ he’s gripping your throat so hard, you can barely breathe, “—cum.” 

“you can cum, doll, cum on my cock,“ he spits out, admiring the way your body constricts at the lack of air. 

and you cum, right on his cock, and he follows with his orgasm as well. 

a creampie, that’s what you had become, just another pie full of cream. 

he pulls out, watching his cum spill out of you. 

“see you next time, princess.” 

[hollowghostsonfilm]

[Inuokko Fic] Cursed Coffee

Summary:

Every time Yuuta tries to flirt with the cute barista, something explodes. Or catches fire. Or screams. It’s probably fine.

AO3 Link Or Read Below

It’s the kind of rain that feels like a curse. It slants. It’s icy. Yuuta feels it has a personal vendetta against him. He stands under the cracked awning of KOFFIN, dripping wet and clutching his onboarding packet like it can ward off the skies. He’s soaked through. Even his soul feels damp.

The coffee shop has this kind of creepy cozy vibe. It’s not quite horror themed, but its definitely eclectic. It’s sandwiched between two bookshops, and the sign above the door reads: KOFFIN – Cursed Brews & Comfort Bites.

He’s half-convinced that this is going to be some gimmick gig, but the promise of above minimum wage and discounted caffeine has brought him here anyway. He needs a job.

A tiny bell overhead jingles as he nudges the door open. Inside smells strongly of dark roast with a hint of cardamom lingering. There’s a string of fairy lights strung along the counter, with little plastic bats on, and a fake crow is perched on the cash register.

Behind the counter stands a single barista. He’s shorter than Yuuta, soft-featured, and wrapped in layers of black and indigo like some weird blend of goth and hippy. Over that though, he has a thick cream-coloured scarf, that’s pulled up to his nose. His hair is platinum, and it must be dyed because he looks Japanese otherwise. Yuuta wishes his hair would lie flat like that, more artfully tousled than just messy. The barista meets his eyes and Yuuta chokes when he sees they’re a pretty shade of lavender.

People don’t have lavender eyes.

Shit, he’s really pretty.

The barista regards him silently, then picks up a sharpie. Yuuta approaches the counter cautiously; aware he’s dripping everywhere.

“I- hi,” he tries. “I’m the new guy. Yuuta. I think I start today?”

The barista, whose name badge reads ‘Toge’, slides a name badge towards him, still silent. He’s written Yuuta ♡ on the name badge. Yuuta picks it up.

“U-um-“ He tries to ask if he can erase the heart, but the espresso machine hisses to interrupt him. Loudly. Menacingly in fact. It gurgles once more when he opens his mouth again to try again.

The barista – no, Toge – points at the chalkboard behind him.

Today’s vibes are ‘No thoughts, just beans’.

“R-right,” Yuuta says, feeling like he doesn’t have a clue what that even means, but that the coffee machine is already judging him. “I’ll, uh, just go hang my coat and… dry off…?”

Toge is already moving, handing Yuuta a towel from under the counter that’s clean, but smells strongly of coffee all the same. He doesn’t say a word as he hands it over, followed by an apron.

Yuuta, drenched, slightly dazzled, takes both. “Thank…you?”

The crow on the cash register caws mechanically, making him jump, and he scurries away to get changed.

*

By Thursday, Yuuta is almost certain that he’s cursed.

It starts small. Monday’s shift ends with him trying to say something – anything, honestly – to Toge beyond “Where’s the almond milk?”. So he gathers his courage, waits until a lull between customers, and leans a little too casually against the counter.

“Hey, so I was wondering, do you like to read?”

The espresso machine groans. Then it explodes. There’s no other word for it. Steam hisses from the valve as it gurgles and grinds beans and spits espresso out all over the counter. A lightbulb overhead flickers and then there’s the ‘pop’ of the bulb going out.

Toge turns to him, looking perfectly calm amid the chaos. He pulls one of the little chalkboards that advertise the day’s specials towards him and starts drawing on it. Yuuta leans in to see.

It’s a little stick figure, which is helpfully labelled ‘Yuuta’. Then there’s a little heart. Then a bolt of lightning strikes the heart and Toge writes: Flirt attempt.

Yuuta’s cheeks burn, and he backs away quickly. “Ah! I, er, sorry, I’ll – I better clear this all up!”

But he notices Toge is chuckling a little bit as he scurries away, and he thinks that might be positive.

Tuesday’s attempt, somehow, goes worse.

He’s trying to learn how to barista properly. He can’t make anything that good yet, but he’s managed to make something that vaguely resembles a heart in the foam. If you squint. He turns to show it to Toge, who looks up with warm eyes. Then Yuuta trips over the mop bucket that he hadn’t even realised was still out. It goes down like a horror movie, his arms flailing as the latte goes airborne.

He lands in a puddle of oat milk. The mug rolls under the counter.

Toge, to his credit, doesn’t laugh. He cleans everything up, but then later, Yuuta sees that the chalkboard has been updated. This time, stick-figure Yuuta is slipping on a wet floor, and it has been labelled ‘thirst trap’. A tiny heart floats next to a second stick-figure, that Yuuta thinks must be Toge. Yuuta isn’t 100% sure what that means, but he thinks it’s not a negative at least.

Wednesday is just cruel.

He doesn’t even try to flirt this time, he just thinks about asking if Toge’s scarf is hand knitted, and that causes the blender next to him to short-circuit. It wasn’t even plugged in.

Toge is already sketching something into the chalkboard before Yuuta can recover.

Yuuta spends the rest of the shift pretending to clean the same counter, spiralling into the abyss.

Is it me? Is it this place? Is it haunted or something? Have I offended some love god somewhere and now this is some huge karmic prank to stop me from flirting with a cute boy?

Toge passes him a cup of tea after his sixteenth time of wiping the same spot, delivered as always without a word. On the saucer, he’s drawn a little gravestone in chocolate sauce, with “RIP: Yuuta’s Rizz” next to it.

Yuuta groans.

Toge giggles.

It’s a beautiful sound.

*

It’s late. The chairs are upended on the tables, the mop bucket has been safely stowed (Yuuta has checked three times), and the espresso machine is humming peacefully like it’s not threatening to murder him.

Yuuta wipes down the counter one last time. Toge rinses the milk frothing wand. Then the only sound in the shop is the quiet clink of ceramic and the occasional caw from the Halloween decoration on the cash register.

This is it, Yuuta tells himself. There are no customers, no distractions, nothing looks like it’s going to malfunction.

“I think you’re really cool,” Yuuta blurts out, before he can lose his nerve. “And I like working with you. You’re… um, really good at what you do. And you’re really creative with how you interact with the customers even though you can’t speak. And like your handwriting is really cute. And your drawings are too. And-“

Toge looks up from the espresso machine with wide eyes just as the grinder kicks into overdrive. The lid isn’t on, and something must be stuck, because suddenly coffee beans are firing out of the top of it like bullets.

Toge ducks, pulling Yuuta down onto the floor with him and covering his head as beans rain down on them for what feels like an eternity. Finally, it stops.

Yuuta would really, really, just like the universe to give him five seconds to finish a conversation with Toge.

Toge looks at him. There’s a coffee bean trapped in the folds of his scarf. Yuuta opens his mouth to apologise – though it’s not his fault that everything keeps going wrong – but Toge lifts his hand slowly and calmly to removes the bean and drops it onto the floor.

He then digs into the pocket of his apron and withdraws his phone, tapping something into it and then shoving it into Yuuta’s face.

Please do not try to confess again.

Yuuta covers his face with both hands.

“Okay. Yeah. That’s… that’s fair,” he mumbles.

When he peeks between his fingers though, Toge is back on his phone again, tapping away rapidly. The corners of his lips are twitching upwards. He shoves the phone at Yuuta again.

You’re kinda cute tho even if you’re, like, haunted or something.

Yuuta’s brain short-circuits like every device in this cursed café. The crow on the register caws. Toge gives him a little wink, before standing up and brushing himself off, offering Yuuta a hand up.

Yuuta grins at him, taking the hand.

*

Yuuta doesn’t notice it at first. He’s restocking oat milk in the back fridge. When he returns, he notices that Toge’s communication chalkboard has a new design on it.

It’s a doodle of the two of them (Yuuta has learned now the difference between the two stick figures from the way Toge gives him a ridiculous height advantage). They’re sat under a cartoonishly big umbrella. Like Totoro sized. Toge’s stick figure has a little scarf. Underneath is written: Meet me after close. Do not say or think anything or the coffee machine will hear you and get mad.

Yuuta’s palms immediately start sweating.

*

Toge takes him up to the roof of the café. It’s cold outside, but Toge has brought blankets and he wraps Yuuta up in one with a smile. The city hums around them, and the warm orange of the street lamps adds a warm glow to Toge’s skin.

Toge hands Yuuta a can of peach soda, before taking one himself, and then holds up a bento in a furoshiki.

“Did you make this?” Yuuta asks, awe in his voice as he unwraps it.

Inside, it’s not, like, anything amazing. Onigiri mostly. And an attempt, Yuuta thinks, at making cute sakura petal carrots that probably went awry. Still, it’s very cute.

He looks up in time to have a phone shoved right in his nose.

I saw that the microwave kept burning your lunch so I thought I’d bring you one that wasn’t cursed by your bad luck.

Yuuta laughs, full and honest. “Fair.”

They eat in silence, sharing the onigiri and watching the street below. Steam curls from the heating vents.

“I’m not cursed, you know. Or at least I wasn’t. Until I started working here,” Yuuta says finally.

Toge pulls his scarf down to take a bite of onigiri, and Yuuta chokes when he sees the other is smiling. He types something out on his phone, offering it almost shyly.

I don’t know. I kind of like how determined you are to ask me out against the odds.

Yuuta forgets how to swallow.

“Oh,” he says, and then again, because the word feels too small for how big his heart suddenly swells. “Oh.”

Toge wipes a grain of rice from the corner of his mouth and Yuuta’s eyes follow it. He licks his lips, eyes flicking back up to Toge’s to see that the other is watching him with wry amusement.

Yuuta leans in when-

“Kyaaaaa!”

Toge snorts, bursting into laughter and pointing over Yuuta’s shoulder. Yuuta turns to see that this is not a mechanical crow, not a decoration, but a real one. Big and black and staring him down.

Toge taps on his arm to show him his phone again.

That’s the shop’s actual curse. He’s unionised and everything.

Yuuta rubs at his own face in frustration as Toge throws bits of rice towards the crow, clearly happy to make friends with it.

He glances back over his shoulder at Yuuta, smiling and tilting his head to the side.

Okay, Yuuta thinks. Eventually, I’m going to get a full-on moment with this guy and it’s going to be worth it.

*

Yuuta stares at the Specials board.

It reads:

Today’s Vibe: Uninterrupted Confessions ❤️

Special: No Explosions (We Hope).

He covers his face with both of his hands.

Toge tugs on his sleeve, getting him to lower them and then offers Yuuta a latte with a perfectly drawn little heart in the top of the foam. The espresso machine hasn’t hissed at him, and the lights haven’t flickered. The crow on the counter, and its spooky counterpart outside, don’t seem to be bothered.

Yuuta glances at it, and then takes it with both hands. “So did you bless this or…?”

Toge rolls his eyes and types into his phone. I hired an exorcist. He’ll be here soon.

Yuuta thinks he’s joking until twenty minutes later, when the door slams open.

The man is ridiculously tall, even compared to Yuuta, and he’s wearing sunglasses even though the day is relatively overcast. He speaks with the enthusiasm of someone who has never been told to lower his voice.

“Who you gonna call?” he says, throwing his arms wide. “Not Ghostbusters. Gojo.”

Yuuta stares. Toge doesn’t look surprised.

“I’ll take one sea salt mocha frappe, one of those croffle things, a cake pop, and then you’ll have to show me where this cursed kid is, Inumaki, because I was meant to be-“

Toge’s expression is flat as he slides a croffle onto a plate with a level of professional detachment that is only possible from someone who must have dealt with this individual before.

Gojo’s sunglasses reflect the low lights as he looks between the two of them. “Okay! So, you’re the one with the cursed love aura? Be honest. Who did you jilt at the altar?”

Yuuta, horrified, glances at Toge. “N-no one! Seriously?!”

Toge shrugs.

Gojo picks up his croffle, taking a bite and groaning. “You sure, kid? No cheating? Nothing that would make someone want to make really sure you never had the chance to get your-“

Toge knocks his hand on the counter to cut off whatever it is Gojo is going to say. It communicates quite clearly: Do what you gotta do and leave. Gojo grins like a fox in return.

“Already done. Love curse neutralised the moment I walked in and you paid me in pastries and caffeine,” Gojo picks up his coffee and is already half way out the door. “Love you, Toge! Use protection!”

The bell above the door jingles as he disappears, and the café returns to having just the right about of personality per square footage for the number of people in it.

Yuuta stares after him. “What was that?”

Toge shrugs, typing out: Gojo.

Yuuta laughs helplessly. “So… Let’s see if it worked, shall we?”

Toge turns to face him, pulling his scarf down so Yuuta can see the full shape of his face.

“Are you doing anything later?”

Yuuta waits. Waits for the light to explode, or a sink hole to open up, or to be struck dead. Nothing happens. Toge is looking around too, as though waiting for the disaster to strike.

But it doesn’t.

And so those lavender eyes turn back to him, and Toge shakes his head. He hooks his finger into the front of Yuuta’s apron and pulls him forward a little.

“Pick me up at 8,” he whispers into Yuuta’s ear.

The crow on the register caws approvingly, and Yuuta thinks, just once, it might be on his side.

[fameandfiction]

IMAGINE PART I: “The Unspoken Hours” — Leighton Murray x Reader

— Emotionally stunted but soft.

Requested | PART1 - PART2

The sky was a shade too grey for 4 PM, the kind of oppressive cloud-cover that made Essex’s red brick look almost blood-warm in contrast. Your scarf—it wasn’t even yours, just one you’d stolen from the communal laundry room when yours went missing—scratched slightly at your neck as you readjusted it for the fifth time on your way across the quad. Wind rushed past like a held-in breath finally exhaled.

Your phone buzzed, again. It was your roommate, asking if you could take her Thursday shift at the café. You ignored it.

What you didn’t ignore, however, was the figure you saw from the edge of your periphery: platinum blonde, head tilted toward the ground as she walked in a straight line that defied any illusion of grace. Leighton Murray, immaculate even in low spirits. Her coat was camel-toned, the hem dusting against dark jeans, hands tucked stiffly into her pockets. From a distance, she looked like the kind of girl who lived inside a slow-motion perfume ad—effortless, untouchable, maybe even fictional. But you knew better.

You’d seen her crack.

[Seven weeks earlier], you and Leighton had been strangers. Or rather, orbiting acquaintances—mutual friends in the kind of tangled web only a place like Essex could produce. You’d both been assigned to help with organizing the LGBTQIA+ fundraiser. You—quiet, logistical, maybe a little invisible; Leighton—fashionably late and openly trying to pretend she wasn’t panicking when asked to write name tags.

She hadn’t even wanted to be there.

“I’m not like... I don’t do committees,” she’d said, folding her arms and leaning against the vending machine like she was allergic to community service.

You’d shrugged. “Cool. But you’re here.”

That had earned you a look. The kind of look Leighton Murray gave when she was trying to decide if you were joking or just terminally boring.

But you weren’t either, not really. And neither was she, which became very obvious three meetings in when she offered to walk you home after you stayed late stacking chairs in a half-lit hall.

Back then, things were easier to name: strangers, then semi-strangers, then maybe friends who didn’t call it that. You weren’t like her other friends—people who called her “Murray” like it was a title, who flirted with her out of habit or fear or both. You were... quiet. Sometimes you thought she liked that. Other times, you thought it made her forget you were even there.

[Now], you weren’t sure what you were.

You slowed your pace and let her catch up without saying anything.

“Hey,” she said eventually, voice soft, eyes flicking up from the sidewalk to meet yours for a second too long. “Your scarf’s on backwards.”

You flushed. “It’s not mine anyway.”

“Huh.” She looked back down. “Looks like it’s attacking your neck.”

You smiled despite yourself.

You walked like that for a while—side by side, not quite brushing arms, but not avoiding each other either. Leaves skittered across the path ahead, catching on Leighton’s boots. She didn’t seem to notice.

When you reached the corner outside the library, she paused.

“Are you going in?” you asked.

She nodded.

You hovered, then reached for the door, holding it open with your shoulder. “Come on, then.”

She stepped in, just close enough for her perfume to catch the space between you—something subtle and expensive. She always smelled like she had her life together, even when she was visibly unraveling.

You headed for the second floor without asking. Leighton followed. She always did, when it was you.

You’d both started studying together a few weeks ago—some unspoken agreement that her dorm was too loud and your dorm was too depressing. The library was a neutral zone. Safe. Silent.

When you reached your usual table, she dropped her bag without sitting. “I’m gonna grab coffee. Want anything?”

You blinked at her. She rarely offered.

“Um, chai latte, if they have it?”

Leighton nodded like she’d already expected that answer. You watched her go, hair tied back, earrings catching the dull light. You’d stared at those earrings before—on nights when you pretended you were just tired, not caught up in the tilt of her jaw or the way she bit the inside of her cheek when she was thinking.

You didn’t like how much you noticed her. But you also didn’t try to stop.

When she returned, she set your drink down without ceremony. Hers was black coffee, as always. You wondered if she actually liked it that bitter or if she just thought sweeteners were weak.

“Thanks,” you said, fingers brushing hers as you took the cup.

Her eyes lingered a second longer than necessary.

Silence fell like a blanket. You both opened your laptops. You read the same sentence five times.

Then she said, quietly, “I saw Alicia yesterday.”

You didn’t look at her. “Oh.”

“She’s moving. Boston’s official.”

You nodded, forcing your face into something neutral.

“I’m not following her,” she added, unprompted.

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know. Just... saying it.”

A moment passed. Then another.

You glanced sideways at her. She wasn’t typing. Just staring at the screen, jaw tight. Something in her looked like it was splintering.

“You don’t owe her anything,” you said, careful.

She turned her head. “I thought I did. For a long time.”

Silence again.

Then, quietly, “Sometimes I think I only dated her because she made the first move. Like it was easier to let myself be chosen.”

You didn’t respond.

What could you say?

You’d watched her be chosen before. By Alicia. By Tatum. By women in bars with expensive taste and age gaps that felt more like trauma.

But she never chose you. Not out loud.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” she murmured.

You swallowed. “Because you trust me?”

Leighton looked at you then. Really looked.

And maybe for the first time, you let her.

The space between you felt charged. Not electric—magnetic. Like if one of you moved even slightly, the other would follow without question.

“You make it feel easy,” she said, barely audible. “Being myself.”

Your throat tightened. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“I don’t want to be someone people run from,” she added, eyes flickering away.

“You’re not,” you said. “But I get it. Sometimes I think I’m easier to forget than love.”

Leighton flinched, like you’d hit a nerve she’d been pretending didn’t exist.

You smiled. Small. Sad.

Then she reached out—slowly, carefully—and placed her hand over yours on the table. Warm. Grounding. Her thumb brushed your knuckle.

“I haven’t forgotten you,” she said.

Your heart didn’t stop. It stuttered.

Outside, the wind howled through the cracks of old stone. Inside, everything else fell away.

You didn’t say anything.

You didn’t need to.

Not yet.

[To be continued]

Requested | PART1 - PART2

[madeleinelovescolours]

bold your favs

I got a bunch of new mutuals recently, so I'm tagging you XD

[COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. magic.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. Canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos. lithe.

[ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield.poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. pyre. teeth.  rifles.  

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass.wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim.linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers.ocean. river. meadow. forest.desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds.mountains. poppies.

[ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. eagles. owls. bears. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. crickets. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. rats. livestock. foxes.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine.champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple.orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries.nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. french fries. ambrosia.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books.comic books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice.motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. running. exploring.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. sweater. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. duster. trenchcoat. hood.gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. ties. uniform.

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. kisses. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs.revenge.

@mjlegends @thefiasco-onyourblock @manicpixietboy @fionas-frenzy @oracle-sasha @taashyvashedan @felanndaris

[xeansicemane]

I got inspired by this post to finally mock up the inside of WarlockXeans' ship. Warning, Long Post is Long

Little bit of OC history! Xeans uses a retrofitted FOTC Hawk as their personal ship, they picked it up in the wake of the Red War and spent a few weeks putting it back together in the hanger after everything had been secured and quieted down. Ever since they've been salvaging furnishings from wherever strikes their fancy.

(Image from Bungie's concept art)

Specs list it as 28.35 m x 20.12 m x 10.06 m (L x W x H) so I fudged my numbers a little to assume the pressure hull was 18 x 10 x 9.

I decided a fun way to do this would be to start with the floorplan of a working Redjack carrier, so I spun up Inkarnate and got to work, ending up with this

The fundamental concept is a pretty cramped robot carrier - everything in the center is Redjack rack, there are a handful of jump seats for engineers, a basic work bench, and some replacement rifles. Most of the time I imagine this was crewed by two people. Utilitarian, very much a battle bus.

After a few years of collecting and fitting it out for occasional guests (they're one of the heads of their clan they took it on themselves to have what amounts to an RV - a nice little place to relax in the field for smaller fireteams). They ended up with the current iteration of the Farfarer

Going to start from the entry and move up.

Immediately inside the airlock is the living space and stairs to the upper level. They repurposed the jump seats (with the addition of some extra padding) as chairs across from a screen they found in tact in an old CB facility. The original work bench was kept in place but put against the forward bulkhead, so they or a friend could work on something while staying in the social space. The entry closet is a general cargo space with a few coat racks (shoes are encouraged to go in the space under the stairs) so people don't just dump whatever they're carrying on the seats. The plastone dining table seats three and was found in a small executive suite in the EDZ. The Sentient Gun Terrarium is self explanatory, Xeans constantly felt like Omar needed some time out with some enrichment.

The rear of the lower deck is dominated by everything that needs water cycling. The rear avionics bay is still accessible by removable panels, but it was walled off for looks. The restroom is fully kitted out including a washing machine (which isn't strictly needed given the abilities a guardian has access to, but Xeans insists that washing hadronic weave helps the texture), but it is extremely cramped. The kitchen is small but fully equipped with a dishwasher tucked under the sink. They keep a lot of ramen ingredients on hand but enjoy trying to find out what's edible when they're out and about. The shelf across from the foot of the stairs is a lot of nicknacks they want to show off, there are a few CB executive mugs (they're solid platinum) and some extremely cool rocks they found.

The flight deck is largely untouched, save for the copilot's station being taken over by a pile of guns, jackets and a few other things that Xeans' ghost Lup made for themselves. They tend to stay rez'd during downtime, and they decided it'd be fun to have somewhere soft to burrow down into.

This is the first room anyone enters on the second deck - it's primarily for storage with a small table, it earned the nickname the copilot's station because any time someone flies with them, Lup refuses to let anyone take their nest apart.

This isn't Xeans' primary workspace - their actual lab is a shared space in the halls that the Raven Seal use - but small personal projects and a portable reference library is always useful. The hive magic circle that takes up most of the space is an attempt to weld hive magic and a miniaturized oracle engine. The project hasn't gone anywhere for years, but it clears their head to play with it every so often.

The bedroom takes up the bulk of the second deck - the furnishings are salvaged from a dozen different places, the sheets and mattress from a hotel in orbit around Io, the desk from an Ishtar collective dorm. The books they keep on the ship change, but tend to be long lends from the libraries, a lot of popular fiction with an increasing amount of Eliksni literature (their grip on the language is still rough but they're getting there) Just like the lower deck, the avionics bay is walled off but still accessible.

The overall goal here was a bit of character building, plus I love laying out fictional spaces.

[contentment-of-cats]

Recovery and exercise

Once upon a time, I could bike 7 miles per day, walk like nobody's business. I hiked. I loved it. Yes, I was heavy and carrying an autoimmune disorder diagnosis, but able to do things outdoors that I enjoyed. At home, I had resistance bands and dumbbells. I used a foldaway rowing machine. I was marshmallow-coated steel.

Cancer, as it does, changed all that.

Two years later, exercising at all has been difficult. My neighborhood is no longer safe to walk.

I need to exercise, so I started looking for alternatives.

Local gyms are less than welcoming to silver-haired Gen-X ladies, and even with 'no commitment' contracts, it is important to note that some come with built-in 'account management' and termination fees. You may not be able to use all of the gym's amenities unless you have a higher tier two to three year contract or are willing to pay 'use fees' for access. They may even limit the hours you can use the gym, blocking out 'prime time' hours and even weekends.

Fuck that.

My limitations include a right shoulder with surgical scars, titanium rods, plates, and screws. I have extensive surgical scars on my torso and adhesions under the large ileostomy scar. My treatment with platinum drugs left me with chemo induced neuropathy. Radiation damaged my lower spine and has impaired my thyroid. Galdolinium interacting with oxalic acid may have caused some soft tissue damage. I have overdone exercise to the point where the ostomy scar was in so much pain that I thought I was passing a gallstone.

Weights and bands are limited to the very lightest ones. My old pedal machine has been repurposed to arms. Wall Pilates and chair yoga help. But it has not been enough.

I calculated the minimum I would incur in gym fees just to use a treadmill and take some classes.

So, I bought this on sale. It came out to $400 after promotion, with free shipping. A big investment, but not as much as a gym membership + the time and money spent going back and forth.

First, it's 60lbs. Your Fedex/UPS driver will hate you if you have stairs. Once you get it out of the box, it's good to go in five minutes. Plug it in and hop on. The lowest speed is .50 MPH going up in .25 MPH increments from there. It has a remote, and if you need balance help, don't buy the overpriced handrail, just get an oversized walking frame.

I can do 1000 steps in 20 minutes, starting with the .50 MPH setting, then progressing up to .75, then to 1.0 MPH before coming back down. Right now, I am at 6,000 steps per day, working my way up to 10,000. It's very comfortable to walk in bare feet, slippers, or sneakers. It can go under a standing desk. When done, it goes under my bed. If you have problems finding time to exercise, or if you have mobility issues, I recommend this.

[emeraldxphoenix]

YOUR MUSE'S AESTHETICS.

bold what applies to your muse and italicize what sometimes applies to them. please repost, don’t reblog !

colour : red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. magenta. pastels. bubblegum pink. blood red. ivory.

elements : fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. thunder. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. clouds. light. dark. shadow.

body : claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. ears. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. slender. trained. piercings. tattoos. strong. shape shifting. svelte. long hair. short hair. dark circles. big. small. prosthetic. experimented. cyborg. halos. horns. wolfish.

weaponry : fists. sword. dagger. spear. scythe. bow and arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. peppersprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. power loader. flamethrower. metal rod. shotguns. needles. words

material : bronze. gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. copper. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. yarn. slime. ivory.

nature :grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. holly. lavender. lilies. petals. thorns. sunflowers. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. snow. ice. roots. flowers. ocean. river. lake. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. swamp. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. stars. clouds. mountains. fungi. cliffs. sunlight.

animals : lions. wolves. black panther. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. roaches. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantis. crows. ravens. misc. lizards. frogs. bears. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dinosaurs. dragons. felines. foxes. centaurs.

foods and drinks : sugar. salt. water. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hardliquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. vanilla. cookies.

hobbies : music. art. piercing. watercolours. gardening. knitting. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. fencing. riding. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self - defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. poetry. philosophy. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. cello. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. synthesizers. harp. woodwinds. brass. trumpet. flute. drums. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. tree climbing. running. vivisection.

style : lingerie. armor. cape. dress. robes. suit. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. legging. trousers. jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendants. hat. goggles. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. neck tie. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. pauldrons. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. pantyhose. stockings. thigh highs. eye patch. collar.

misc : balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. realism. loneliness. anger. family. friends. assistants.co-workers. enemies. lovers. loyalty. smoking. alcohol. drugs. kindness. love. hugs.

tagged: @wcrriorhearts <3 tagging: @harmbidder , @tlmeagents , @othunderous , @theresastargirl , @wildcxrds & anyone else who wants <3

[bugsnax-community-questions]

Bugsnax Community Questions ~ Poll #25

Put filbo, eggabell and the others in one option because there aren't enough slots to fit everyone.

FILBO: Basic Furniture, Dandelion, Cot (secret), Grumpy Baby Mayor, Pawprint rug, Cloudy paws print, painted hut, Group Photo, Streamers, Garden gnome, snaxburg flag, Golden Strabby, Certificate of completion

WAMBUS: Scarecrow, beechwood, Sauce plant seedlings, Sauce rug, Rustic Bed, Mini Cactriffy, Grow light nursery, Wood panel print, cowboy hats, ceiling fan

BEFFICA: Sleeping bag, Ladder Shelf, bestie print, Bestie (exterior), Fuzzy heart rug, Privacy curtains, Bulletin board, glowing stars, purple lupin, befficas journal, Kiddie pool (technically from floofty)

WIGGLE: Hanging lights, Luxury bed (secret), Gilded (Secret), record player, Palm tree, Platinum Award, Beach Chair + Umbrella, Armoire, Music print, Rock club sign, Psychedelic rug

TRIFFANY: Map of Snaktooth, Drafting Table, Prehistoric Floorcloth, Grumpus Skull, Giant skeleton, Barrel cacti, Dig site print, hanging pots, ancient bugsnax statue 1 (pinkle), ancient bugsnax statue 2 (incherito), Bone and Stone (exterior), Bone and stone bed

GRAMBLE: Lantern, Pink oleander, Weather Vane, Knit Sprout Mat, Hay bales, knit bed, Strabby Hat, Doily Table, knitted (exterior), knit baskets, Strabby print, Bunger bed

CROMDO: Tulips, Police tape (Secret), Bug juice dispenser, Big safe, A single hanging bulb, boombox, money print rug, worn mattress, billboard, Motivational poster, Antique print

SNORPY: Loose Newspaper, Conspiracy board, Blueprint print, Protective coat hangers, Metal plating (exterior), Metalworks flower, Satellite dish, deprivation tank, bookshelf, HAM radio, hot tub

CHANDLO: Red Cedar, Framed jersey, Rock climbing holds, Strong trophy, Hammock, Bean bag, Orange bloodroot, Home gym (secret), Sports print (secret), Gym mats, chandlolier,

FLOOFTY: red ti plant, lab bench (secret), Specimen jar, Pirate ship (exterior), Beheading machine, ecience poster, chemistry rug, test tube lights, science print, Chalkboard

SHELDA: Hanging Planter, Herbology station, Primitive grass, Salt crystal, ebony stained wood, zen garden, Meditation cushion, Prairie grass, wind chimes, desert print, torch

EGGABELL: Family Photos, Eggshell print, medical egg rug, Medicine cabinet, Emergency bell, First aid kit, Draped fabrics, igloo (exterior), snow grump, medical bed

OTHER: Cowboy hat roof (Cactriffy), Planted snak (Cactriffy), Snak print (L), Strabby Shelf (L), Snakgoyle (Snaxsquatch), Matilija Poppy (Snaxsquatch), Eyes (exterior ~ B), Legendary snak rug (B), Snak mobile (C), Sodie Fountain (C)

[altheia-featherstone]

OC aesthetic game

Thank you @anew-flame for the tag!

Rules: bold/color any which apply to your OC; remember to repost; feel free to add to the lists. 

Tagging: Anyone who wants to do it

*****

Altheia Featherstone

(The Arcana)

[ COLORS ]

red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. cream. mint green. cobalt blue. lime green. beige. turquoise.

[ ELEMENTS ]

fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset.

[ BODY ]

claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. sun-kissed. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. average. muscular. lean. piercing. tattoos. lithe. moles. dimples.

[ WEAPONS ]

fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. whips. knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. pyre. teeth. rifles. words.

[ MATERIALS ]

gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amber. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. rubber. synthetics. jade.

[ NATURE ]

grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. dandelions. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. poppies. galaxies. stardust. sky.

[ ANIMALS ]

lions. wolves. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. crickets. bees. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. rats. livestock. foxes. bluebirds. deer. dragonflies.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ]

sugar. salt. bitter. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. french fries. ambrosia. honey. cheese. pasta.

[ HOBBIES ]

music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. wood carving. foraging. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. journaling. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. history. books. comic books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. flight. climbing. running. exploring. partying. yoga. potion making.

[ STYLE ]

lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. sweater. boots. heels. sandals. leggings. trousers. cargo pants. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. flower crown. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. duster. trenchcoat. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. ties. uniform. fancy shoes. leather jacket. sport underwear.

[ MISC ]

balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. kisses. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. bittersweet. happiness. luck. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs. revenge. lust. regrets. passion. spontaneity. potty mouth. recklessness. practicality. hope.

[wcrriorhearts]

YOUR MUSE'S AESTHETICS.

bold what applies to your muse and italicize what sometimes applies to them. please repost, don’t reblog !

colour :red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. magenta. pastels. bubblegum pink. blood red. ivory.

elements :fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. thunder. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. clouds. light. dark. shadow.

body : claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. ears. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. slender. trained. piercings. tattoos. strong. shape shifting. svelte. long hair. short hair. dark circles. big. small. prosthetic. experimented. cyborg. halos. horns. wolfish.

weaponry : fists. sword. dagger. spear. scythe. bow and arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. peppersprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. power loader. flamethrower. metal rod. shotguns. needles. words

material : bronze. gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. copper. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. yarn. slime. ivory.

nature :grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. holly. lavender. lilies. petals. thorns. sunflowers. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. snow. ice. roots. flowers. ocean. river. lake. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. swamp. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. stars. clouds. mountains. fungi. cliffs. sunlight.

animals : lions. wolves. black panther. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. roaches. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantis. crows. ravens. misc. lizards. frogs. bears. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dinosaurs. dragons. felines. foxes. centaurs.

foods and drinks :sugar. salt. water. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. vanilla. cookies.

hobbies :music. art. piercing. watercolours. gardening. knitting. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. fencing. riding. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self - defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. poetry. philosophy. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. cello. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. synthesizers. harp. woodwinds. brass. trumpet. flute. drums. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. tree climbing. running. vivisection.

style : lingerie. armor. cape. dress. robes. suit. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. legging. trousers. jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendants. hat. goggles. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. neck tie. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. pauldrons. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. pantyhose. stockings. thigh highs. eye patch. collar.

misc : balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. realism. loneliness. anger. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. lovers. loyalty. smoking. alcohol. drugs. kindness. love. hugs.

tagged: @bigdaddydaemon tagged Rhaenyra tagging: @alyafae @unbeleveable @ironf0rged @emeraldxphoenix @razorfstand whoever else would like to do it!

[lupiinee]

your muse’s aesthetics.

bold what applies to your muse and italicize what sometimes applies to them. please repost, don’t reblog !

colour: red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. magenta. pastels. bubblegum pink. blood red. ivory.

elements: fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. thunder. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. clouds. light. dark. shadow.

body: claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. ears. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. slender. trained. piercings. tattoos. strong. shape shifting. svelte. long hair. short hair. dark circles. big. small. prosthetic. experimented. cyborg. halos. horns. wolfish.

weaponry: fists. sword. dagger. spear. scythe. bow and arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. power loader. flamethrower. metal rod. shotguns. needles.

material: bronze. gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. copper. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. yarn. slime. ivory.

nature: grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. holly. lavender. lilies. petals. thorns. sunflowers. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. snow. ice. roots. flowers. ocean. river. lake. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. swamp. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. stars. clouds. mountains. fungi. cliffs. sunlight.

animals: lions. wolves. black panther. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. roaches. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantis. crows. ravens. misc. lizards. frogs. bears. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dinosaurs. dragons. felines. foxes. centaurs.

foods and drinks: sugar. salt. water. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. vanilla. cookies.

hobbies: music. art. piercing. watercolours. gardening. knitting. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. fencing. riding. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self - defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. poetry. philosophy. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. cello. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. synthesizers. harp. woodwinds. brass. trumpet. flute. drums. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. tree climbing. running. vivisection.

style: lingerie. armor. cape. dress. robes. suit. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. legging. trousers. jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendants. hat. goggles. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. neck tie. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. pauldrons. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. pantyhose. stockings. thigh highs. eye patch. collar.

misc. balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. realism. loneliness. anger. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. lovers. loyalty. smoking. alcohol. drugs. kindness. love. hugs.

tagging: YOU tagged: i stole this from the ever beautiful, ever kind @marblecarved

[sixisnotaprettynumber]

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁    𝙰𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚂 :

COLOR.       ——       red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal.  silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. magenta. pastels. bubblegum pink. blood red. ivory.

ELEMENTAL.      ——        fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. thunder. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. clouds. light. dark. shadow.

BODY.       ——       claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. ears. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. slender. trained. piercings. tattoos. strong. shape shifting. svelte. long hair. short hair. dark circles. big. small. prosthetic. experimented. cyborg. halos. horns. wolfish.

WEAPONRY.        ——       fists. sword. dagger. spear. scythe. bow & arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. power loader. flamethrower. metal rod. shotguns. needles.

MATERIAL.        ——        gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds.  amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. copper. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. yarn. slime. ivory.

NATURE.       ——       grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. holly. lavender. lilies. petals. thorns. sunflowers. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. snow. ice. roots. flowers. ocean. river. lake. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. swamp. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. stars. clouds. mountains. fungi. cliffs. sunlight.

ANIMALS.       ——       lions. wolves. black panther. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. roaches. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantis. crows. ravens. misc. lizards. frogs. bears. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dinosaurs. dragons. felines. foxes. centaurs.

FOOD & DRINK.      ——      sugar. salt. water. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. vanilla. cookies.

HOBBIES.       ——        music. art. piercing. watercolours. gardening. knitting. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. fencing. riding. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self - defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. poetry. philosophy. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. cello. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. synthesizers. harp. woodwinds. brass. trumpet. flute. drums. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. tree climbing. running. vivisection.

STYLE.       ——       lingerie. armor. cape. dress. robes. suit. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. legging. trousers. jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendants. hat. goggles. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. neck tie. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. pauldrons. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. pantyhose. stockings. thigh highs. eye patch. collar.

MISC.       ——        balloons. bubbles. cityscape. landscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirror. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. realism. loneliness. anger. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. lovers. loyalty. smoking. alcohol. drugs. kindness. love. embracing. [[Tagging: Anyone who is interested]]

[marblecarved]

your muse’s aesthetics.

bold what applies to your muse and italicize what sometimes applies to them. please repost, don’t reblog !

colour: red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. magenta. pastels. bubblegum pink. blood red. ivory.

elements: fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. thunder. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. clouds. light. dark. shadow.

body: claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. ears. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. slender. trained. piercings. tattoos. strong. shape shifting. svelte. long hair. short hair. dark circles. big. small. prosthetic. experimented. cyborg. halos. horns. wolfish.

weaponry: fists. sword. dagger. spear. scythe. bow and arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. power loader. flamethrower. metal rod. shotguns. needles.

material: bronze. gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. copper. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. yarn. slime. ivory.

nature: grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. holly. lavender. lilies. petals. thorns. sunflowers. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. snow. ice. roots. flowers. ocean. river. lake. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. swamp. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. stars. clouds. mountains. fungi. cliffs. sunlight.

animals: lions. wolves. black panther. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. roaches. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantis. crows. ravens. misc. lizards. frogs. bears. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dinosaurs. dragons. felines. foxes. centaurs.

foods and drinks: sugar. salt. water. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. vanilla. cookies.

hobbies: music. art. piercing. watercolours. gardening. knitting. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. fencing. riding. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self - defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. poetry. philosophy. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. cello. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. synthesizers. harp. woodwinds. brass. trumpet. flute. drums. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. tree climbing. running. vivisection.

style: lingerie. armor. cape. dress. robes. suit. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. legging. trousers. jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendants. hat. goggles. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. neck tie. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. pauldrons. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. pantyhose. stockings. thigh highs. eye patch. collar.

misc. balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. realism. loneliness. anger. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. lovers. loyalty. smoking. alcohol. drugs. kindness. love. hugs.

tagging: you ! if you see this on your dash and you would like to do it for your muse, feel free to steal this !

[fuckyeahthomaspynchon]

Inside the bowl, the two goldfish are making a Pisces sign, head-to-tail and very still. Penelope sits and peers into their world. There is a little sunken galleon, a china diver in a diving suit, pretty stones and shells she and her sisters have brought back from the sea.

Aunt Jessica and Uncle Roger are out in the kitchen, hugging and kissing. Elizabeth is teasing Claire in the hallway. Their mother is in the W.C. Sooty the cat sleeps in a chair, a black thundercloud on the way to something else, who happens right now to look like a cat. It’s Boxing Day. The evening’s very still. The last rocket bomb was an hour ago, somewhere south. Claire got a golliwog, Penelope a sweater, Elizabeth a frock that Penelope will grow into.

The pantomime Roger took them all to see this afternoon was Hansel and Gretel. Claire immediately took off under the seats where others were moving about by secret paths, a flash of braid or of white collar now and then among the tall attentive uncles in uniform, the coat-draped backs of seats. On stage Hansel, who was supposed to be a boy but was really a tall girl in tights and smock, cowered inside the cage. The funny old Witch foamed at the mouth and climbed the scenery. And pretty Gretel waited by the Oven for her chance. . . .

Then the Germans dropped a rocket just down the street from the theatre. A few of the little babies started crying. They were scared. Gretel, who was just winding up with her broom to hit the Witch right in the bum, stopped: put the broom down, in the gathering silence stepped to the footlights, and sang:

Oh, don’t let it get you,

It will if they let you, but there’s

Something I’ll bet you can’t see—

It’s big and it’s nasty and it’s right over there,

It’s waiting to get its sticky claws in your hair!

Oh, the greengrocer’s wishing on a rainbow today,

And the dustman is tying his tie . . .

And it all goes along to the same jolly song,

With a peppermint face in the sky!

“Now sing along,” she smiled, and actually got the audience, even Roger, to sing:

With a peppermint face in the sky-y,

And a withered old dream in your heart,

You’ll get hit with a piece of the pie-ie,

With the pantomime ready to start!

Oh, the Tommy is sleeping in a snowbank tonight,

And the Jerries are learning to fly—

We can fly to the moon, we’ll be higher than noon,

In our polythene home in the sky. . . .

Pretty polythene home in the sky,

Pretty platinum pins in your hand—

Oh your mother’s a big fat machine gun,

And your father’s a dreary young man. . . .

(Whispered and staccato):

Oh, the, man-a-ger’s suck-ing on a corn-cob, pipe,

And the bank-ers are, eat-ing their, wives,

All the world’s in a daze, while the orchestra plays,

So turn your pockets and get your surprise—

Turn your pockets and get-your surpri-ise,

There was nobody there af-ter all!

And the lamps up the stairway are dying,

It’s the season just after the ball . . .

Oh the palm-trees whisper on the beach somewhere,

And the lifesaver’s heaving a sigh,

And those voices you hear, Boy and Girl of the Year,

Are of children who are learning to die. . . .

Thomas Pynchon, Gravity’s Rainbow

[godkilller]

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁    𝙰𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚂 :

COLOR.       ——     red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, pink, black, white, teal, silver, gold, grey, lilac, metallic, matte, royal blue, strawberry red, charcoal grey, forest green, apple red, navy blue, crimson, cream, mint green, magenta, pastels, bubblegum pink, blood red, ivory.

ELEMENTAL.      ——        fire. ice. water. air. earth.  rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. thunder. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. clouds. light. dark. shadow.

BODY.       ——       claws. long fingers. fangs. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. ears. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. slender. trained. piercings. tattoos. strong. shape-shifting. svelte. long hair. short hair. dark circles. big. small. prosthetic. experimented. cyborg. halos. horns. wolfish.

WEAPONRY.        ——       fists. sword. dagger. spear. scythe. bow & arrow. hammer. shield. poison. venom. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katana. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. power loader. flamethrower. metal rod. shotguns. needles.

MATERIAL.        ——        gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. copper. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. yarn. slime. ivory.

NATURE.       ——       grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. holly. lavender. lilies. petals. thorns. sunflowers. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. snow. ice. roots. flowers. ocean. river. lake. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. swamp. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. stars. clouds. mountains. fungi. cliffs. sunlight.

ANIMALS.       ——       lions. wolves. black panther. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. roaches. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantis. crows. ravens. misc. lizards. frogs. bears. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dinosaurs. dragons. felines. foxes. pigeons. centaurs.

FOOD & DRINK.      ——      sugar. salt. water. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. pomegranate. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. vanilla. cookies.

HOBBIES.       ——        music. art. piercing. watercolours. gardening. knitting. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. fencing. riding. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self - defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. poetry. philosophy. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. fiddle . cello. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. synthesizers. harp. woodwinds. brass. trumpet. flute. drums. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. tree climbing. running. vivisection.

STYLE.       ——       lingerie. armor. cape. dress. robes. suit. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. legging. trousers. jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendants. hat. goggles. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. neck tie. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. pauldrons. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. pantyhose. stockings. thigh highs. eye patch. collar. no makeup.

MISC.       ——        balloons. bubbles. cityscape. landscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. ripe. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirror. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. realism. loneliness. anger. laughter. screams. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. lovers. loyalty. smoking. alcohol. stories. drugs. kindness. love.

tagged by: i stole it tagging: @dokuhai, @keikakudori, @owabisuru, @madestars, and you!