#and somehow that exaggerates the difference between them even more

[luna-loveboop]

Wanted to share some thoughts, cause I NEED TO SHARE IT. (Though it might be quite obvious, yeah...)

So, the whole thing with Warriors acting more stern with Wild lately. One could think: "Why just Wild? Hyrule can be quite reckless sometimes, and Wind is THE BABY, so why not them too?"

Well, there's one thing that they don't have, but Wild sure does...luck of self-preservation.

Wars can trust that others, even IF they let emotions take over, would still try to avoid DYING.

WILD WILL NOT. This fella uses his FACE as a SHIELD for ANOTHER PERSON, when there's NO NEED FOR THIS, while being in his "right mind".

SO WHAT CAN YOU EXPECT OF HIM, WHEN HE LOOSES HIS MIND IN A STRESSFUL SITUATION?

Wars still gave him the benefit of the doubt for a while, but after this whole fiasco with Twi's injury - Wars just can not help it, he FEARS for Wild's well-being, because "Champ" himself DOES NOT (with his whole "failure of a hero" thing, I presume).

And how does one even adress it? I doubt Wars saw many people who didn't care about their life before, he was at war, usually people want TO SURVIVE there. He's on edge cause he sees a problem and has no idea how to aproach it.

I want to preface this by saying I have a severe inability to stay on topic but yeah let's talk about it.

So you touched on something me and Jesse have both touched on- that Wars' actions towards Wild come from a place of concern and fear. I think that this is true. Wild DOES lack self-preservation instincts, and Wars has to be afraid of losing him- of the young knight earning more scars. Wild can be an idiot sometimes, but Wars saw him lose his head and attack the shadow when it was just proved to be lethal more than they knew.

There's a difference of perspective between ours and the boys tho that is important and I think contributes to people judging wars for this. See, to Wars perspective, and all of the boys, they could die at any time. An injury could be fatal and they can't see the future. We however KNOW that Wild survives, because we know he goes on to tears of the kingdom. We know Jojo has said that he is reckless and will get himself hurt but always comes out of it. But Wars has watched a billion (<exaggeration) soldiers die and is terrified of it happening again. Whereas we watch the comic from the outside, knowing for certain Wild will make it, Wars is living out that reality harshly.

ANoThER thing I think people forget to account for is Wars is not just a captain, he's a soldier but also leader in an army. I'm not the best with phrasing sometimes so I'll try to say this well- people in the army don't always get to be nice. Oftentimes armies have very harsh environments in treatment towards soldiers because when it comes down to training and life and death there is no time for niceties or feelings. Wars was pushed into the most major promotion ever pretty much to be an army leader. If he's now in the mindset of viewing Wild as a fellow knight/soldier who is not a leader... angry words and facial expressions is pretty mild to be honest.

Wars is a really nice person for all he's gone through, but fighting in a war is a very different experience than a solo journey like the others had. I think it's time to acknowledge that he was forced into far more of a role than the pretty hero, but also an armies leader, and it takes a lot of work to be a nice person through all that. Wars is a nice person who has a ton of strength to be so kind after all he's been through and his actions towards Wild make sense considering his past with what journey he came from. Thank you for coming to my ted talk- no I'm not done.

If anything I said was in any way offensive let me know. I hope my words didn't somehow come across as harsh.

Although him (in a way) treating Wild as someone who is out of line is understandable given his past, it's still not excusable. Wild isn't a soldier and he's not the leader.

Now for Wild time I'm going totally of the rails let's go

Wild doesn't. Yeah ok Wild doesn't like Wars. I've made like. Fifteen thousand nine hundred and fifty two posts on this (<big exaggeration). Wild has not really... spoken to Wars throughout the Lu storyline, tho he did in some of Jojo's starting doodles. Wild has really only spoken to Wars since it all went down when mr. stubborn got injured. I think Wild has a lot of resentment towards Wars for being the knight he was supposed to- who succeeded. Wild has flat out ignored Wars a lot of the time and honestly I'd get pretty frustrated with that too.

Also I along with the other nine hundred people want Wars to trigger an army memory in Wild. For the angst.

Wars is wrong in how he's acting towards Wild and Wild is wrong in how he's treated Wars not as someone worthy of respect. It's hard to pinpoint what's going on in Wild's head but I DO know Wars thoughts- he's terrified for Wild's life and angry that he ignored him and fought the shadow.

But yeah you're right. Wild has no self preservation instincts and Wars can't rely on him to freaking stay alive. Thank you for sending me an ask and sharing your thoughts with me!!! You matter and I love hearing from you /gen <3

Also. Let's make this clear. I love Wars so much. So very much. He's literally a fairy godmother. No hating on him or Wild on my posts. Thank :D

[lovevalley45]

a couple weeks ago freckles pointed out that the shade and henry hogfish both have pathetic dad energy and this episode really solidified that but in such different ways

[specialgradefckr]

Heatwave: Day 4

tw: explicit content. 13k+ words. College AU. Satoru/Reader, past (unrequited) Suguru/Reader and Suguru/Satoru. afab!beta!reader (they/them), alpha!gojo. feral!gojo, feral!reader, i am not sorry

Some alcohol, but no one is actually drunk. oral (reader receiving), sex toys, dirty talk, knots, satoru in rut, satoru is a little gross but only because he's obsessed, you and satoru take turns going insane over each other

childhood friends to lovers. humor. intense platonic love. PINING. so much pining. omegaverse antics. gojo has provider/caretaker!alpha instincts. this fic is more romance than smut so just read it if you want chemistry and yearning with gojo that ends in sex.

Prompt: A beta develops the ability to smell scents and finds themselves losing their mind.

You’d never particularly minded being a beta. Sure, alphas and omegas didn’t have to deal with periods, but considering how awful ruts and heats can be, you think you got the better end of the deal.

In isolation, being a beta isn’t a bad thing, although there’s times you’ve wished you were something else.

Your best friend, Satoru Gojo, is an alpha, and that had never really mattered, either.

Then one day – you wake up, as per usual.

You meet up with him and walk to Jujutsu Technical College together; Satoru lives on campus, but he likes to walk with you. Presumably to snag an extra ten minutes or so during which to be a pain in your ass.

As soon as he sees you, he beams, a spring in his extra large stride as he comes up behind you, throwing an arm over your shoulders.

This wasn’t unusual. He’d done this a million times before. What’s unusual is a – something in the air. You sniff, and Satoru picks it up right away, sniffing along with you.

Whatever you’re smelling, he must not detect it.

It doesn’t smell like anything specific, you couldn’t definitively match it to a food or candle or anything in particular.

It’s a sweet and sour sort of thing, similar to lemonade; it almost makes scrunch your nose, and at the same time your mouth waters as if you can already taste it.

“What is it?” He looks at you from behind those stupid sunglasses that somehow looked awesome on him. “I know it’s not me.”

“Nothing, I just thought I caught a whiff of like… a drink or something. I must have spilled it on my clothes somewhere.” You’re really sure you didn’t, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.

It makes less sense that the smell gets stronger when Satoru leans in towards you – way too close, you’ve gotta yell at him about personal space sometime – and takes an exaggerated sniff.

“You look like a pervert,” Your observation doesn’t stop him in the least. In fact, you think he sniffs even harder. “Have I got crack on me or something?” Satoru snickers at that.

“Nah, I’m actually not getting anything.” He leans in even more, almost towards your neck, “You sure you’re not going crazy?”

“Ugh, stop it, you freak!” You shove him aside, and he lets you with a laugh.

You don’t smell it again for the rest of the walk.

-

You visit a doctor’s office. Nothing has been unusual between your legs, and god knows Satoru would have teased you about it immediately if he’d smelled anything different.

But the doctor tells you why you smelled something he didn’t; alphas, especially young ones not yet out of their teenage years, were generally blind to their own scents, as most people were.

What you’d been smelling had been Satoru.

Sudden onset scent sensitivity. Real tongue-twister of a name, but it was real, and you’d looked it up after they told you about it.

It’s funny, because you’ve never had a very strong sense of smell; Satoru had always been utterly baffled by it.

Especially after presenting, he was floored at the fact that you couldn’t tell that his jacket smelled like him, to which you’d asked him (very seriously) if he had ever heard of a washing machine.

Washing with soap did typically remove the scent from articles of clothing, but it was common for an alpha or omega to run their hands over fresh laundry, or toss a clean-but-scented blanket into the dryer for a quick tumble.

Scenting stuff. You’d never really gotten the idea behind it. All humans were born with scent glands, and their secondary sexes develop those glands – along with their genitalia – in different ways.

A beta like you had no secondary sex hormones, and consequently didn’t develop any secondary sex characteristics. While betas do have scent glands, the scent they produce is weaker, and they don’t emit pheromones at all.

However, human bodies and developments were as diverse as they were weird. It wasn’t uncommon for individuals to produce a specific hormone or group of hormones, developing part of a secondary sex’s characteristics without actually presenting as one.

Turns out your body produces a hormone linked to the ability to smell pheromones. The doctor said it had probably started happening during puberty, and over the years, it eventually led to your newfound sensitivity.

That didn’t make you an alpha or an omega, but it did clue you in to something that only they could sense. A whole new world of conversations and invisible signaling going on, pheromones, scents –

And, as you learned in a painful, awkward stint past Satoru’s dorm room at the college – there was no good way of saying this – cum.

Good old whiff of cum while you walked by, so profuse it almost kind of gagged you, head racing with confusion and alarm at what the fuck this new sensation was.

But very quickly you catch on to how your heart picks up, how your thighs clench. Alpha cum has pheromones in it, after all.

And a peek into his bachelor pad later reveals a trashcan full of tissues you wouldn’t have glanced twice at before. Maybe not even once.

Just beside them is a seemingly innocuous crumpled up sock and your nose is saying yUP. THE SEXY IS ON THE SOCK.

Okay, so it’s cum. And you know it’s cum. And you’ll know it’s cum every time you visit, and every time Satoru is even a little bit messy with it, which is always, because he doesn’t know that you can smell his cum.

Cool, cool, okay, cool.

But that was fine. Totally fine, right? It’s not like you thought Satoru was a monk or anything. So, your best friend jerks off sometimes. He’s a teenage boy, it’d be weirder if he didn’t!

It’s hard to look him in the (extremely pretty) eyes that day, though.

It isn’t a gross scent, exactly, it’s just very… distinct.

Satoru’s cum does still smell a bit like him, that tangy, mouth-watering scent, but with an unmistakable undertone that your brain can only register as horny.

But like. You know what it is! You’re forced to know! And even if you’re just a beta, you can’t help how you react to the knowledge.

Even if it’s weird, though, in a (deeply awkward, uncomfortable) way you’re glad.

You were close friends with alphas and omegas, and those friendships were just like any other, really, but there was this type of communication that you couldn’t understand.

Omegas and alphas would just get certain things about one another, a natural sort of empathy that only came from shared experiences.

A party that you weren’t invited to, a bunch of inside jokes you weren’t in on, a language you couldn’t understand.

Satoru was your best friend, but you didn’t think for a second that you were his.

His best friend was a fellow alpha, Suguru Geto. You’d met in high school, years ago, and you’d been crushing on Geto for a while before he presented. You’d already presented by then and you were sure he’d be a beta, just like you.

Even though Satoru had been telling you for weeks that he’d be an alpha. Said he could just tell. He just knew. Boy, it was annoying when it finally happened.

Alpha-beta pairs aren’t the rarest thing in the world but they’re not that common, either.

You’d been hopeful about it for a while, until you see how the two of them got along, understood each other so seamlessly, connected even during their not-so-uncommon arguments.

(Satoru had always gone to you, after those, to complain. As if you’d take his side over Geto’s! Even if you weren’t infatuated with the guy, he was way more reasonable than Satoru. High school Satoru was a menace.)

Even after Geto left for a different college, there was always this layer of distance that you felt between you two after he presented.

Satoru didn’t seem to know it existed at all, but you felt it, every time he or Geto or anyone else referenced these feelings that only alphas or omegas experienced. Feelings you couldn’t understand.

“Eugh, I’m in pre-rut, it totally sucks…”

“I told you, Satoru, order one of those online rut kits. The included toys work really well.”

“Whaaaaaaat? I thought you were gonna ask out that omega guy from Chemistry!”

“Don’t remind me, I almost wish I had. God, if I did, maybe I could spend the next rut with him…”

And it was bad enough that you kept being reminded of it, that your crush was an alpha and his dream partner would always be an omega.

That you’d never be what he wanted, just what he had, even if you got together.

What was worse was how touchy they got, even after presenting. Casually slinging arms around your shoulders, both of them, hugs to say hello and goodbye, the sudden familiarity and physicality you could only attribute to them presenting as alphas.

It was apparently normal for alphas or omegas to want to scent their close friends, and you were always stuck between the two. Some kind of pack behavior stuff.

Satoru constantly took your stuff, made plans with you then cancelled later, showed up whenever you were trying to make new friends to scare people off.

Like all your free time should belong to him, even if all he wanted to do was find an omega to bang. You were young, and dumb, and Satoru was your closest friend, so you let him get away with it.

He’d always been possessive like that. There weren’t a lot of people who could get close to Satoru, and even fewer people who stayed there.

He was needy, demanding, and capricious all at once, just as likely to leave you on read than to spam you with twenty messages in five minutes.

So hot and cold. Geto got most of Satoru’s attention back in high school, and when he could be bothered to hang out with you, Geto was usually there too.

Geto was less of a raging whore than Satoru, but they talked about it casually enough for you to know they both got around. Like it was some badge of pride.

Dumb alpha crap. Even when they didn’t want you, they had to be weird towards you.

They’d steal your clothes, try to get you to wear theirs, fussing over seemingly meaningless trivialities, like which colors you liked better, whose lunch you wanted a bite from, where you sat during movie night.

Exchanging looks while you glared at them, like they were speaking in a language you didn’t know. Satoru’s arm around your neck while Geto leaned into your side.

But you could tell what was going on between them. Bumping into each other, shoving one another’s shoulders and laughing.

The casual competition that extended to everything – sports, grades, social connections – not just you. How Satoru started spending more time with Geto, hanging out without you.

Nothing was more important to Satoru than finding someone who understood him.

He’d been utterly heartbroken when Geto left, and if this was how he reacted to losing a best friend who he insisted he didn’t have feelings for, you dreaded how he’d react to an actual breakup.

For his part, Satoru had gotten better. You got better at establishing boundaries, making other friends, and telling him directly that he made you feel like shit sometimes. Slamming the door in his pretty face had never felt so good.

If you’d known how easy he was, how that was all it took to get him crying and whining and scratching at your door, then you’d have kicked him to the curb ages ago.

Satoru had tried hard to understand you from then on, to respect your boundaries; borrowing things instead of stealing, keeping his commitments, be the friend you deserved, and not do weird alpha posturing crap.

But now you could detect some of the things that they could. You had a little look into the world he’d been living in, of scents and pheromones and irresistible arousal...

And you’re just as confused as before.

Confirming what you’d always thought; you’re a beta, he’s an alpha, and nothing in the world could ever bridge this particular gap between you two.

There’s so many weird things, so many mixed signals, it honestly doesn’t make any sense.

It has to be something an omega would understand, something Satoru or Geto’s ideal partner would just get, that you… couldn’t.

You start smelling Satoru’s scent in a lot of places, not just when you’re around him.

Somewhere in your closet. Okay, that makes sense, you remember him getting something out of there one time. When you look, you find the source of the scent – a scarf.

Satoru had bought a matching version after seeing it on you; it was something he’d done before. Shown up with an identical article of clothing, crowing about it totally looked better on him. You couldn’t roll your eyes hard enough at him.

He must have dropped it and thought it was yours. You’d sworn your copy of this scarf was in this closet, but you can’t find it, so maybe you wore it and left it somewhere else and forgot. Or maybe he picked up your version –

No, wait, he wouldn’t have. Satoru was supposed to be mostly blind to his own scent but he could smell yours, at least a little.

And scent blindness didn’t apply to objects or people that were actually scented… or maybe they did? You’d have to check it out. Just more alpha things you didn’t understand.

Besides, you were being pretty careless with your laundry lately. There’s an extra sock that appears in your wash, making you think that maybe he really did just leave his scarf and yours is still lying around somewhere, but the sock is nowhere near his size.

Sometimes you think this new scent sensitivity is just driving you crazy.

There’s more, too. Like a pen of yours that suddenly reeks of him; you recall having seen him put it in his mouth when staying over for a study session, but you’d assumed it was his own back then.

He would still help himself to your things these days, boy-prince that he was - he just made sure to repay you later, always with something nicer than what he'd taken. And he never took anything important.

Saliva was so strongly scented that even Satoru would have had to smell it, and he just did that to your pen? Eugh!

And how he leans into you when you’re walking side by side sometimes. An arm over your shoulder.

Now, you realize that with the way he rests his stupid lanky ass body against you, your hair often gets tucked into his neck, right where his glands ooze his electric scent all over you.

But Satoru’s weird, he’s always been weird. Probably a bit possessive, too – you remembered him and Geto doing this crap in high school, it’s just that you’re only now noticing how obvious it is to anyone who can smell it.

Then, one day hanging out in his dorm, you start to smell something different on him. His sweet and sour smell practically burns in the air like ozone, overtaking your head from the first sniff just like a shock.

Satoru doesn’t even notice you being weird about it, either, he just gets all huffy and tells you to come sit next to him.

Wait. Is he… is Gojo…

You look at him, making a face you’ve seen about a million times before, eyes glancing away as if bored.

One breath in and your senses scream horny. Horny, horny boy, horny jail, Satoru might as well be blushing and grabbing his crotch from what your brain is suddenly screaming at you.

This isn’t the scent you’d smelled before, when he had – oh god WHY do you have to be thinking this – just finished jerking off.

What??? What is it?? What is going ON? He hadn’t been watching porn or something before you came in, right?

“Satoru?” You say his name and his head instantly turns to you, like he’s standing to attention.

Something more trickles into the air just for a moment, a happy burst of pheromones reminiscent of a tiny little firework.

…He didn’t just, like, cum or anything, right?

Your name interrupts your thoughts, “What is it?” Big blue eyes looking at you. Pretty as ever.

There’s an inexplicable fondness that rushes through you, a rush of comfort, and reassurance, like you can tell him anything and he’ll help you.

“Uh, just – are you studying for Calc II? I have a test coming up.” Satoru isn’t in Calc II, what were you talking about? Why did you even ask?

“Yeah, I took it, let me get you my notes from last semester!” He shoves the chair back quicker than you’d expect, a grin creeping up his face, “Say thank you senpai~” He says in sing-song as he waves a notebook at you.

You roll your eyes. “We’re both sophomores.”

“But you’re behind me in this class,” Always so smug, “Don’t worry~ You know I’ve always got you, hm?”

Something feels too warm inside you for him to smell this horny. And why is it getting to you like this? What’s getting to you? Is this some kind of alpha thing? Does he even know he’s doing this?

You almost open up your mouth to ask him, but think better of it.

It’s not something you’d get anyways. You’re a beta and all.

“Yeah. Thanks, Satoru.”

He actually leaves you to study in peace after that. He takes the bed, claiming he just needs to review some stuff, and lets you sit at his desk and write answers.

Every now and then, you find your voice asking for help out loud with uncharacteristic meekness. Like you’re afraid he’ll tease you more instead of helping (the teasing, you expect, but surely you know he’ll help you anyways).

But Satoru darts over with an equally uncharacteristic attentiveness, looking over your shoulder, explaining the problem right away from beginning to end, patiently covering each part and answering your questions.

His face feels so warm next to yours. You know his neck – his scent glands – are digging into your shoulder where he’s looming over you, arms reaching around your side to point at different parts of the problem. Satoru doesn’t realize you smell it, but like this, his scent is overwhelming.

It leaves you flushed, tugging at your collar and swallowing dryly.

“Oh, you thirsty? I was about to get snacks!” He chirps before practically prancing off.

Satoru sounds weirdly excited to do it. It isn’t that weird – he loves study treats, “A little reward for working so hard~” – but his scent exudes a weird eagerness, a satisfaction, like he’s doing a really good job at… something.

What is this? Some alpha thing? You use the opportunity you get when he prances off to fan yourself. Take a deep breath or two.

There’s nothing weird about this, Satoru is acting the way he’s always been acting. He doesn’t know you can tell, now.

No way are you letting go of this advantage, after all that time he must have lorded it over you. In high school his scent was probably even stronger, and he and Geto rubbed it ALL over you!

Something catches your eye, though, or rather your nose. It’s on the corner of his desk, at the very edge. It smells like Satoru everywhere in here (you’d begun to learn that teen alpha boys, much like regular teen boys, absolutely reeked) but this scarf doesn’t. In fact, you think you recognize it.

Picking it up, you can smell your own scent on it, just faintly. Betas don’t smell like much, but this was something you wore often, and you can catch the faint vanilla sugar aroma that’s supposed to be peaceful and calming, like betas apparently are.

This was it, the same scarf that had gone missing in your closet. This one being yours – it still had your scent on it, somehow, even with how much Satoru reeked – and the one in your closet, as you suspected, was his.

The little thief! What was he doing with your clothing? Did he lose his scarf and decide to nick yours?

But… how could he have lost it in your closet? You were pretty sure you’d left yours in your closet.

From what you know about Alphas, they’re not supposed to like foreign scents in their “dens”, even from a mild beta. It would be immediately obvious that this doesn’t belong.

Maybe, being blind to his own scent, he didn’t notice your smell, but if he’d used it, even for just a couple hours, your scent should be totally gone from it.

So why’s it just sitting here, away from his bed or anywhere else the scent of you on it might be disturbed?

Satoru must have swapped them out intentionally. Or – why would he? If he took yours and just didn’t wear it, then that would explain it, too, right? Maybe the one in your room was yours, and he’d just swapped them back after wearing it. But why? Satoru would probably borrow your toothbrush if it saved him a trip to the convenience store, he didn’t care.

Your mind spins and spins until Satoru comes back, a couple bags of convenience store treats and drinks in hand, grinning and preening so hard – “Aren’t I just the best partner? Study buddy? You’re wel~come~” – if he were a dog his tail would be wagging wildly behind him.

Whatever. You’re just going crazy. Betas aren’t even supposed to be able to tell any of this stuff. It’s weird, you wouldn’t get it.

But Satoru gets you – has your back, like he always does. You leave his company smiling, content, like you always have.

-

After you ace the test the next night, you run at him beaming with excitement. He catches you in his arms and spins you around and you smell a pure and genuine joy in his scent as he teases you.

“Of course you aced it! You doubted my teaching?!”

“Never, Satoru-sensei~”

“Hehe. What a promotion from being your senpai!”

“I never admitted that!”

(Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile. And you’ll hand it over with a smile, too, because when have you ever been able to say no to that pretty face?)

Just – you’re friends. You celebrate each other’s accomplishments, nothing weird there.

-

You see your scarf again after a night of drinking.

It’s so stupid. Satoru knows he’s a huge lightweight. He turned twenty right before finals so he’s not technically underage, but still!

So why was he drinking? You’d heard there was some kind of big get-together (Nanami was there, after all), but Satoru wasn’t a social drinker or anything. It was some kind of celebration after finals being over or whatever. Still, the Satoru you knew never drank.

Then you get a text from him, begging you to pick him up from the bar. Why? You’re a college student, you don’t have a car! He can text you, but he can’t get a taxi? He can’t be that wasted.

And you know it’s from him because only Satoru would beg for help while also making it sound like it was an honor for you to help him. Ugh.

The worst part is, even when he’s tipsy and stumbling, he’s well over six damn feet tall and easily sends you stumbling whenever his steps waver. One arm wrapped around you like you’re some kind of living crutch.

“Awh~ Came to pick me up? You really do like me, huh?” He crows, like he hadn’t pleaded with you over text. He smells like fruity vodka and – someone else. Must be an alpha he hung out with at the party.

“Someone has to.” You grumble as you deposit him into the car seat, shoving at his shoulder when he doesn’t move over right away.

He pats on his lap, head tilted back, eyes dreamy and half-lidded as he giggles. Three times, before you scoff, slam the door, and go around the other side to sit next to him. Dumbass.

The ride to the dorm is less annoying than you thought it would be, mainly because Satoru… isn’t actually that drunk at all?

Just tipsy enough to tease you to sit on his lap, apparently.

“Come ooooon! We never cuddle anymore!”

“We haven’t cuddled since we were nine, and you said I had cooties.” It was pretty normal, of course, but it had hurt at the time.

“It’s been over ten years, won’t you forgive me?” He complains, “What, you don’t love me anymore?”

“I’d love to smack you,” You mutter to yourself.

Satoru must overhear you wrong, because he wiggles happily in his seat, reaching out to pull you against him. You let him sit like that for the ride as he rambles on about his night.

It’s cute. You’re a huge homebody – Satoru knows that – but it sounds like he had fun, connected with some old friends. Shoko, Nanami, and Haibara – names you haven’t heard in ages.

By the time you get to the dorms, you’re chatting animatedly about Nanami’s choice of major and whether or not it suited him (You really can’t believe he just went into Accounting like that. Why wouldn’t he go for Literature? He loved the book club you were both in! Satoru insists he was only doing it to get girls, though).

He starts clinging to you again in that weird way (he is totally not drunk enough to need it), where he rests some weight on you but not too much, at an awkward angle since he’s so stupidly tall.

It’s just enough for you to stagger with him to his dorm room, shoving the door open while he snickers at your fumbling – “Thanks for the help, Satoru.” “You’re welcome! Aren’t I just the best?” – like some prince on his throne.

You shove him in, utterly impatient, and groan when his hand finds your arm and pulls you in with him.

Satoru spins around once like the pretty princess he is, laughing to himself, smelling like ozone again as the arousal hits your senses. But he must not notice the surprise on your face, because he reaches out a hand towards you, beckoning while you back towards his bed.

Maybe he is more drunk than you thought, if he was this turned on –

Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait wait. WAIT!

Your mind is racing ahead, thoughts flooding your synapses, eyes wide as you inhale again and detect the same thing.

The scarf. It’s there, in the corner of your eye.

It doesn’t smell like you anymore. It’s crumpled up in a corner, unmistakably dirtied.

He jerked off on it. He totally fucking jerked off on it. The scarf is literally crusted with his cum. THE FUCK???

It wouldn’t have been weird, just gross, but this isn’t Satoru’s scarf and Satoru knew that. There was no way he’d missed that it smelled like you! It might have even smelled like you when he was jerking off into it!

Did he – why would he –

If he wanted it to smell like him, why jerk off on it? He could just wear the damn thing! Actually, he had one that already smelled like him! And he gave it to YOU! Why???

The uncomfortable feeling in your chest churns harder.

You’re insane. You must be going completely insane.

The sock. No fucking way. There’s no fucking WAY. That would be so gross. Your insides are churning, hot and roiling with something and you just. There’s no way.

That’s the only explanation, because when you open your mouth, you actually say.

“Gojo did you – did you steal my sock? And my scarf?” Your voice gets higher in pitch, “And then jerk off on them?”

You’re definitely going insane, because the Satoru giggles like a kid caught with his hands in the candy jar. Maybe he really did get totally fucking smashed at the get-together. Maybe he’s been getting smashed these whole past few fucking weeks!

“Haha, yeah! I’m in rut, you can’t blame me,” He whines like he totally expects to be excused of this one little slip-up, like jerking off into an article of clothing that smelled like you was just boys being boys or some crap from high school, “And – hey! Don’t call me Gojo!”

He’s – he’s in rut? Had that been why all this weird shit was happening to you? He was just doing some weird alpha crap, and it was getting to you because you could smell it?

A groan escapes you. “Satoru.” Why does he light up when you say his name like that? Why does your chest feel so fucking – “Go sober up and pass out. I’m going home.”

You need to get out of here, before this shit gets to you any more. Satoru doesn’t know he can affect you with this. It’s never affected you before.

Your face is hot. So, so hot.

“Don’t leave.” The words sound like a whimper, like a wail, so impossibly morose. He’s on his knees already in front of you, pawing at you with both hands, clinging. “Don’t leave. Stay with me.”

Crystal blue eyes gazing up at you, wide and tearful. Cheeks still flushed a little pink. Moonlight from the window filtering over his lovely features. Lust in the air, radiating off him, seeping into you with every breath.

He’s so pretty. Satoru’s always been the most beautiful person you know. He’s in rut, and he wants you to stay, and it shocks you how a thrill runs through you at the thought. Desire molten in your chest, dripping down to your core.

“You’re in rut, and you’re drunk – ”

“Even I’m not drunk off one strawberry daiquiri,” And though you’d like to deny it, if Satoru’s sober enough to snark at you, he’s probably not that drunk. Which means this is all his rut – “And god, I’ve wanted you so fucking long. Rut’s just made it worse.”

The words should feel like they’re shattering you. Like decades of friendship are teetering on the balance, on a tightrope over one stupid night of drinks.

Instead you just feel hotter than ever. Every breath tells you what it had been telling you from the beginning, what you were just too blind to see. Desire. Lust. Want.

“I thought we were just friends,” You say quietly, like it’s some confession.

He stands up so he can cup your face, tilt it so your gaze meets his. “It’s okay if you don’t – if you’re not – you know. If it’s too much right now. I was too pussy to say it for a long time, I just scented you, and hung out with you, and whatever else you’d let me, but…”

“How long? I know you didn’t like me in high school.”

“I fucking loved you in high school, I was just a huge dick. You know that.” Those pretty eyes look down, only for a moment, “Back then, I didn’t want to fuck you. Doesn’t mean I didn’t love you to death. Still do.”

“But you want to – ”

“Yeah, I super wanna fuck you now.” He looks back at you with that stupid pretty face and that stupid charming grin, way more cheerful than it has any business being, “But you know, you’ll always be my best friend, right? My number one. If I need to spend a hundred years convincing you that I’ll be the best boyfriend ever, that’s fine.”

A hundred years? You’d dare him to last a hundred seconds without whining for what he wants like the spoiled brat he is.

But his eyes are so bright, and you can smell how much he wants you. He wants you that much and he says this.

“I’ll be so good,” He purrs, arms wrapping around you and bringing you closer to him, “The best. I’m pretty, you know. And I’m rich. I’ll go out on dates with you all the time, my treat, and kiss you, and hold your hand, and you can wear my clothes, it’ll be so great – ”

Satoru starts stepping backwards, dragging you with him towards the bed as he moves.

You chuckle. “Thought about this a lot, have you?”

“Every minute of every day. Half of it I’ve been doing already.” He reaches the bed and turns you so your back is facing it. Pushes you gently to sit.

Satoru gets on his knees in front of you again, and your heart skips a beat. You’re starting to think it’s a good look on him. But his eyes are wicked, his grin feral, pheromones suffocating you in the next breath before he speaks.

“I know you want me too. Let me eat you out.” He’s already taking off his shirt, like he knows what it does to you when you see him shirtless.

Even in high school, that lean, swimmer’s body had left you flustered. Satoru’s always been like that, so effortlessly perfect looking, so unashamed at being seen. He grins at the feeling of your eyes on him, you think he’s even posing a little bit, the diva.

“Yeah, you like that? ‘Course you do. Best alpha around.” His gaze peeks up at you through lowered white lashes, “I’m something special, aren’t I? It’s all yours, baby. All for you.”

God, he’s so beautiful. You’re so weak for him. That hopeful smile makes your heart tremble. He’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, ethereal with his white hair and shimmering blue eyes and lean, muscled body, and it’s all for you, all yours, baby.

“Satoru…” For a moment, you truly can’t believe this is actually happening.

And then a large, warm hand finds its way into one of yours, threading between your fingers, an easy smile on his lips as he looks up at you. This is him, your best friend. Satoru. Your Satoru.

He nuzzles his head against your legs, digging underneath your pants with impatient fingers, “Say you want me, just say it. I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Why – why are you asking all the sudden?” Your will to resist him is dropping exponentially and you’re pretty sure he knows it. “Why now?”

“Why right now? I’ve been dying for you since my rut began, and finally got myself a dose of liquid courage.” He brings your hand up to his face, kissing over your knuckles. “But if you want to know why I want you… It just happened. Woke up one day wanting you and it never went away.”

“Wanting to fuck me, or wanting to date me?” You’d never thought Satoru would want you. It just seemed so impossible. “I’m a beta, it’s not like I can help your rut.”

Your hand is pressed against the front of his pants, unbearably hot, bulging outward. His fingers trapping your palm against it. It’s like you can feel him pulsing through the fabric. A knot big enough to break you.

There’s a part of you that’s thrilled at the idea, that makes you clench and think I could take it, makes you want to try and shove it inside, but you fantasized enough about Geto and his knot in high school to know. It would be sexy for about three seconds, and then it would just hurt.

Not the good kind of hurt. The kind of hurt that leaves you hyperventilating, snot and tears crying as you panic over the possibility of an embarrassing ER visit, wondering if you’ve actually ripped something down there, it hurts that much.

“It’s all for you, babe, whether or not you want it. It’ll always be for you.” Satoru purrs, leaning close enough that you can feel his breath on your face, “I’d take your hands over any omega’s pussy any day. Fuck, please, just spit on it, I could cum from that, you know?”

You giggle, bewildered and unreasonably turned on. “You sure you’re not still that stupid horny alpha boy from high school?”

Satoru leans forward so his chin rests on the edge of the bed, looking up at you from between your legs. You become explicitly aware of the wetness growing against your panties.

“Nope. Stupid horny high school me didn’t know shit. This is your modern Satoru Gojo, older and wiser and better than ever.” His eyes sparkle at you. Hand squeezing yours. “Let me? Please, please, let me?”

“Yeah,” the word leaves you like a sigh, from you and from Satoru, “You talk a big game, Satoru. Just try and make me cum.”

You don’t know why you make it out to be a challenge. It’s not easy to make you cum, but it’s not this impossible task either. He’s a clever boy, he can figure it out.

Step one he’s clearly got down perfectly, tugging your pants and panties down in a move so fast it tugs into your knees. You don’t have time to move for him before he lifts your legs for you, dragging your clothes entirely off in one swift, merciless movement.

Oh. You are wet. Your face heats up, and it doesn’t get better because then he grabs your thighs and tugs them apart, spreading you and pulling you closer to the edge of the bed, where his face is.

“Okay baby,” He whispers against your cunt, breath hot against you, “One last time. Show me how you touch yourself, show me what you like.”

One last time?

God, you should have known this idiot would need pointers. Even if it was a perfectly reasonable ask.

“Sure, since you need it so much.” You mutter, mostly at the heat on your cheeks, the wiggling feeling in your chest at the way his eyes roam over you, following your hand down between your legs.

Something hot and slimy meets your fingers as soon as they get close, and you nearly yelp –

“Just helping,” Satoru’s got that awful self-satisfied look on his face, and he licks your fingers again, like he wants to suck on them, “Get you nice and wet, first, should never go in dry baby.”

At least he had that much sense. It’s hampered by the fact that he’s talking to you like he knows shit.

“Excuse me, this is still my pussy,” Covering your mortification at touching yourself to an audience with words, you dip your fingers into your entrance just to wet them up some more.

“Not for long,” He grumbles. What? “Just show me how you like it.”

“I’m trying!” You press against your clit from the side, rubbing against it indirectly, leaning into the sensation until you feel pleasure pooling from each press. “No thanks to… the peanut gallery over here.”

Satoru does shut up for a moment, and you try not to think about how it’s because he’s staring intently at your sex, like he’s about to take notes on it or some shit.

Fuck, fuck, he’s so stupidly pretty. You can feel yourself getting wetter at the thought of those beautiful eyes on you. Curse your terrible fucking taste.

You focus on the presses, speeding them up just enough to not be too much, increasing how far you press in, just a little more, moving your hips to nudge yourself into it –

“Okay, enough.” A larger hand snatches your wrist, pulling it away. Your huff is nothing short of indignant and half-disbelieving. But then again, what had you been expecting? “I got it. No more touching yourself.”

The way he says it, blue eyes darkening, sounds a little more serious than it should. Voice a little lower. Scent dusting the air with something powerful, authoritative, distinctly alpha.

He doesn’t mean…

The thought is interrupted by the sensation of his mouth, warm and wide and open against you, so sudden that you cry out with the heat of it. Wet and welcoming.

His hair threads through your hands. It’s soft, so soft. Like feather down, fluttering at your fingertips. In the pale light pouring through the dorm window it shines like starlight. Something heavenly and pure and right there for you to hold.

Even when your hands fist in it, Satoru just moans, rumbling against your cunt as he lapped against it, drawing you dangerously close to the edge.

Those lips, those pretty, pouty lips, pressing tight against your clit while his tongue works over you. Smooth muscle laving over slick flesh, slipping through your folds.

A naughty dip into your entrance that makes you squeak, just exploring. Tracing along the edge, darting in to sample.

When he pulls away, mouth sinfully wet and shiny with strings of arousal, Satoru meets your eyes directly, deliberately. You watch him raise his two index fingers to his lips, open that awful, sultry mouth, and stick them both in.

The way he does it, tongue hanging out and pooling saliva, then laving it over his fingers, you almost expect him to start moaning like a pornstar.

He’s too dumb to do that, though, and instead closes his mouth around his fingers, sucking on them, and pulling them out with an exaggerated pop!

Yeah, that’s your Satoru. Dumbass. You’re horny and amused, and a little bit mad at yourself for it, too.

He catches it when you roll your eyes at him, and sneaks his warm, wet fingertips right up into your entrance while he latches his mouth onto your clit.

The fingers slide in almost too easily, but his are long. It doesn’t take him long to start curling them, dragging them along your walls inside until that, combined with his suckling at your clit, has you whimpering breathlessly, grasping his hair for dear life – it only makes him moan more, and that only makes sparks of pleasure dance up your already tight, throbbing core.

And it’s annoying, so annoying and so hot and unbearably fucking sexy how he looks up at you right when you’re at the edge, like he knows.

Free hand tightening on your thigh like he’s got to keep you from running away from him, pressing his tongue into your clit.

Rubbing it tightly like he fucking knows exactly how hard it sends you spiraling, panting and wide-eyed as you stare down at the beautiful man eating you out like you’re his last meal ever.

You can barely breathe for the way it takes you, hard and fast, flooding you all at once. Blood soaring with every heartbeat, pressure unfurled into ecstatic currents that ripple out from your core, through your whole body.

Satoru suckles on your clit gently, somehow in perfect time with the waves of pleasure that rush over you, making each one crest just a little bit higher than it should.

He never takes his eyes away from yours. He stays like that, softening, letting up as your climax abates and your clit starts to tingle, oversensitive.

Of course, when he pulls away, he looks invariably pleased with himself. You’re not going to say this out loud (regrettably, it looks like he knows anyways, somehow, he just knows this shit about you) but he absolutely should be.

It was a rush that went through your whole body. You felt like you were flying, breezing freely through the air with Satoru keeping you light.

“What, you want a medal?” It doesn’t have much bite to it with your voice all low and breathy and sated. Satoru just grins.

You move to lay back, but Satoru catches you, straddling you on his knees so he’s not sitting on you, pulling you forward against him. The bulge at the front of his pants rubbing up against your abdomen.

“If you’re offering a reward for my skills, I know just the thing~” Satoru sings.

Utterly cheeky of him, to spring this on you while you’re still in the afterglow. “Satoru...”

"Can I put it in? Please please let me put it on, I promise I'll be so good – "

You smack him upside the head, even though his whimper makes you feel both guilty and horny. Extremely horny, actually. He looks really cute, pouting like that, lips pursed like you really hurt him oh so bad. Like a dog that’s been scolded for something it doesn’t understand.

And maybe he is, with the rut in his brain. Stupid and horny and helpless to refuse you because of it, filled with nothing but the need to please you – every thought flowing through your head starts trickling between your thighs.

"No fucking way Satoru, you know I'm not built for that."

Then he whines, wide eyes looking up at you pleadingly, and you actually feel yourself dripping, clenching, ready for him again when you just came moments ago. Cunt aching for the warmth of him.

God, leave it to Satoru to turn you on so much your dumb ass is willing to even entertain the idea of knot training. He’s in rut. You’re just horny and too dumb to have learned your lesson about pining for alphas in high school.

"Not this time. I need practice." You feel yourself flushing even though it's your own suggestion.

He grins, all teeth and hunger. Eyes bright with something that makes your heart flutter.

"Not this time,” he agrees, “I'll train you. Stretch you nice and slow. Over and over and over again until you can take it without hurting. I’ll train you until you are made for it, made for me, won’t put it in until you’re begging. My omega.”

When did you say he would be training you? And why do his words send liquid fire running through your core?

“Not an omega, Satoru.”

“You’ll be mine.” Triumph laces his voice, “I’ll treat you so nice, I’ll make you feel so good, you’ll never want any knot but mine.”

Now he’s just going full alpha brain, “I didn’t want any knots in the first place!”

“You’ll want mine.” He says it with an utter confidence only Satoru Gojo can possess, “You’ll love it. I’ll make you love it. I’ll be so good for you, I’ll be the best alpha, you’ll never have to make yourself cum again.”

And god, good god, how can he go from puppy dog eyes to proud alpha crowing in the blink of an eye? You just told him you didn’t want his knot! And you only half meant it! God!

“We’ll see about that,” Grumpy, flushed, that’s all you manage, and you’re not even that upset about it.

He rubs up against you like a cat, purring, “I’ll make it good for you, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

Then you should take care of him, this time.

“Go get your toy, Satoru.” You tell him like you’re telling a dog to go fetch.

And he does, all eager and grinning as he darts towards a shelf, tugging a toy out of the drawer. It’s literally huge, enough that you might not be able to encircle it with two hands.

“Not as good as you,” He whines as he grabs the lube. You roll your eyes because he’s had none of you yet, “Wouldn’t be as good as you, any of you. You’ll use it on me yourself, at least, right?”

“Yeah, I’m using it on you, dumbass,” You fix him with a look, and he holds your gaze with a pout, “And get used to the idea.” God, you’re flushed again, this is all just so… eugh. “…Cause… you know. We’ll have to go through a lot of knot toys with me, so…”

There’s a spring in his step all the sudden, thrilled at the thought. Brightening as soon as you say “Yeah” – God, was Satoru always this easy?

He lays the toy on your lap like he really is a dog going to fetch, the awful terrible idea you were thinking of comes into shape.

It’s so embarrassing, just the thought makes you feel so… presumptuous, like you’re assuming so much about something you barely understand.

But he wants you. He said he wants you. So you do it.

Flushed, reaching between your legs (the audacity of him to whine and try to tug your hand away), you gather up your own slick and cum and other fluids, cupping them in your fingers.

Satoru’s eyes dilate, face blank with his staggered breath, as he watches you smear it all over the toy, particularly at the entrance. You squirt in a portion of the lubricant, too, reaching in and spreading it with your other hand. This should feel gross. This is super gross.

You’re so fucking wet. You could put even more on it. But something tells you Satoru would prefer that elsewhere.

“Come on, then. You bragged about it so much.” You look at him, eyes half-lidded, lips curled upwards as you loom over the fleshlight. “Show me the goods, alpha.”

With a fast breath he nearly rips his pants and boxers off, cock springing free of its confines and – oh. Oh. Yeah, you were definitely not getting that inside you tonight, not in any universe. But the thought of it makes your thighs clench reflexively.

It’s a pretty cock, too. All red and flushed, dripping and swollen at the tip. Long, unreasonably so, even with the heavy knot at the base. And this is before it’s expanded.

No wonder the toy’s so big.

You scoot back on the bed, legs spread wide, and you pat between them. Satoru’s taller than you, bigger than you, and you quickly realize this isn’t going to work with you sitting behind him, even if he wriggles happily when his chest presses to your back.

(You file this information to use against him one day, though. Satoru would probably melt if you let him be the little spoon.)

Spinning, you move so that you’re straddling his lap. Satoru seamlessly scoots back, giving you enough space to rest yourself on his thighs and trap his cock between the two of you.

You look at his (unfairly pretty) face. Back down at his dick. At his face again, where he’s smiling an awful, conspiratory sort of smile. All but vibrating with excitement.

When you spit on his dick he moans like he nearly is going to cum, and your cunt clenches at the sound. He wasn’t joking, was he?

Your hand darts down between your legs, and Satoru’s eyes darken at the sight, growling. The same hand quickly wraps around his cock, slick with your arousal. Satoru gives a shuddering gasp at the sensation, hips jerking into it. Everything he does has you getting wetter, it’s effortless for him.

And he knows it, too, smells it, because even while he’s catching his breath he gives you that terrible charming smirk that has you burning in the pit of your stomach. So annoying. Your hand tightens and he makes the most pitiful whimper.

You’re hit with the sudden and very real desire to take a bite out of him.

Pretty boy. Pretty boy, all for you, naked and bare in front of you, aching and whining for you to do with him as you please. You think you even see him drooling a little.

You take his lips instead, face tilted upwards as you press your mouth into his, like you can drink him up if you stick your tongue far enough into his mouth.

He’s sweet, because of course he is. A little strawberry, the faintest touch of alcohol.

Your teeth close on his lips, tender, soft, yielding. It’s so easy just to clench down, hard, while your hand pumps his cock some more, and it throbs, violently, as the taste of blood fills your mouth. He moans into it, tongue sliding, dancing against yours like he wants to lick you up.

He’s panting, still, when you pull away. Lips red and swollen and bleeding.

Satoru grins at you, bent over, eyes glittering. Wiping blood from the corner of his lovely mouth.

 It’s not enough to bite him. You want to devour him whole. You want him to be yours. You want to see him cum.

“Say my name.���

You hear it.

You fit the toy on top of him, and his hands dart towards you, grasp you with deceptive firmness, like you’re all that can anchor him. His nostrils flare as he slides into the toy lubed up with your own fluids, taking in the scent of you.

He’s probably smelling how wet you are. You slam it down, all the way to the knot, to wipe that stupid smirk on his face.

It works. Now his eyes are wide with shock, mouth gaping open, a noise like a squeak emerging from him as he squeezes his eyes tight, hips squirming uselessly to fit more of himself in.

Delight, wicked and thrilling, lances through your chest at the sight of him. Face flushed, eyes squeezing as he fights to keep them from closing, lips in a wide “O” like some kind of pornstar. God, he’s just too fucking hot.

Without thinking you bring your other hand to his lips, and Satoru closes his mouth around your wet fingers and moans. His half-shut eyes flutter at you, like he’s trying to tease you. Tongue threading between your fingers, cheeks going hollow as he sucks them clean.

His hips thrust up, eager, and he whimpers again. “Say it again.”

Your name, again, warbled around the fingers in his mouth as you twist the toy around him. You press it against his knot just for a moment.

“This is for me, you said?” You pull your fingers away, pull the toy up, and he whines at the absence, like the drama king he is, “You’re hard just for me? A beta?”

When he opens that unthinkably sexy, sultry mouth of his, you slam it back down again. It hits his knot and you bear down, “Ah – hahhh – ahhh~”, and god, your heart is racing and he’s only halfway in.

“Fuck,” He sobs, “Fuck, yes, please – ”

It’s hard to pull it up after that, his knot swelling and throbbing and Satoru squirming like some kind of desperate whore. Clawing at your shoulders as you pull the toy up again.

He keens when your hands leave him, only to brighten visibly as you tug your shirt and bra off. Oh, he’s lost all coherence but he can still cheerfully ogle you, huh?

One of his hands reaches for your breast, mindlessly squeezing. It’s so large he can hold it in his entire hand, and you watch his eyes dilate as he tries to buck up for more stimulation.

You reach back, pumping him again, and you keep pressing it down against his knot, shoving it a little further each time. His words are senseless, mumbles and mutterings, and his eyes don’t leave your body for a moment, like he’s drinking you in.

When you reach the widest part of his knot he actively wails, seizing you at the waist and digging his nails into you, and it burns like hot lines of pleasure over your skin. He’s shuddering now, all lean muscle and powerful form turned to a shivering mess before you, for you.

“Just a little more,” You breathe, “Almost there, baby. You’re gorgeous, so fucking beautiful,” a heavy SHOVE and Satoru cries out as his knot finally slips in.

The breath he lets out is pure relief and yearning tied in one. It’s harder to push down now with him lodged in it. His hands loosen around you, gaze going unfocused, and he mumbles something you can’t quite make out. His hands paw at you, like a blind man groping in the dark.

He’s really, really pretty like this. Needy, teary-eyed, desperate like a dog.

While you work the toy in short strokes, your other hand reaches up to his well sculpted chest, to the supple flesh of his pecs where you dig your nails into, just to hear him whine. To watch a streak of red mark where you draw your nails across him.

When you scratch across his nipple he whimpers again, hips shuddering so much it’s hard to keep the toy on him. His face flushes even harder, eyes trembling, grasping at you with quivering hands.

His abs, perfect like the rest of him, tighten, clenching up. His thighs clench up, too, and you see him actually thrust up into the toy, eyes wild with need. Satoru finally gets a grip on you, and he leans in, too, shoving his face into your neck.

It takes you a moment, pumping to toy to make sure he doesn’t lose his peak, for you to realize he’s smelling you. Taking long, deep breaths of your scent, shuddering like a man who’s found his paradise.

You lean your head to the side, just a little, just to meet his eyes. He looks up at you, he smells you; enraptured, delighted, desperately aroused by the sight of him.

“Say my name,” You beg him, “Satoru, say my – ”

He cums with a cry of it, a wail, and you realize what he’d been mumbling before. Shaking in your arms.

There’s something feral in your chest, something about him in this state that drives you absolutely mad. You keep pumping the toy, even just a little bit, hard friction against his swollen knot, the cum that must be hot and packed against him now.

He wheezes, delirious, and you think for a moment he sounds like a dog toy. You think you want to make him your dog toy. Squeaking while you squeeze him, with your hands, your mouth, your cunt.

He’s too pretty like this, too perfect. All yours, he’d said, and now he’s crying on your shoulders, shuddering with the strength of his climax.

“My alpha,” You coo, breathless, “Only for me.”

Satoru nods dumbly, pretty lips wedged apart, eyes bleary. Pressing a kiss to your neck, licking mindlessly at it. His skin is hot, like all the rest of him, flushed from his release.

You want to give him more. You want to mess him up. You want to fuck him up, take a bite out of him for everyone so everyone sees a piece missing, a piece that belongs only to you. You want to see him cry.

So you pull away to get a better look, but he clings to you. When you push him it feels like trying to tear your own heart out, so you let him kiss and suck against you until he’s kissing up to your lips.

Pretty white lashes fluttering while he nips at your lips, gentle as a kitten with tearstained cheeks.

Then he pulls back on his own and grins at you, so cocky you forget he cried at all.

The toy can’t come off him, locked where it is until the knot goes down, but that doesn’t seem to stop him in the slightest.

“I can smell you,” He pants, “I can smell it. You’re ready for me? Got so turned on by fucking me with that toy, huh?”

There’s heat in his eyes, a wicked smile tracing at his lips, but you meet his gaze with your own fire. “So turned on. You looked so pathetic and pretty, whining and bucking into that toy like a desperate whore. If you’d moaned any sluttier, Satoru, I would have creamed my panties.”

His laugh is almost a howl, “Hahaha! Yeah! Just for you, baby.” He leans in to steal a kiss, “A slut for you. Let me show you just how slutty I can be, I can fuck you so so good baby.”

Your laugh is cut off by his fingers prodding at your mouth, “Spare some spit for your slut, yeah?”

The look you give him, like you’re telling him off while trying not to laugh, sends a shudder of emotion through him that you can’t identify.

You use the moment to open your mouth wide, letting your tongue loll out. Transfixed blue eyes follow your tongue dragging up his fingertips, how you drool on them, moving down and then drawing it up again to wet them.

Satoru makes a little noise and twitches and you know the toy has just milked another little squirt of cum out of him. Maybe knots are kinda cute.

And then he looks back into your eyes. Quick as a whip, closes his mouth around your fingertips, rolling his eyes back with an exaggerated moan, and he’s so fucking stupid and you’re so turned on you actually feel yourself throbbing. Your hands dart down to feel it.

Well, you’d known you were wet, but this was just embarrassing. Worse, since he could smell it.

 “I’ve got you. Let me have you, I’ve got you. Leave it to your alpha.”

“Really big words from a guy who was crying when I pumped him with a fleshlight.”

Satoru doesn’t balk, he only grins. With teeth. “You bet I did, baby. Fucked me so good,” he purrs, rubbing up against you again, moving you so you’re sitting on the bed once more, “And I got you all hot and bothered, didn’t I? So let me take care of that for you.”

God, he really knows no shame at all. No wonder he didn’t bother to smother his moans. He knew what they did to you. He always knew what he did to you.

Except, you suppose, with the pheromones that are telling you right now to lie down and let him eat you into oblivion.

Your fingers draw up to your clit, gently pulsing again at the hungry look he’s giving you.

He bats your hands away from your cunt, “I told you I’d take care of you. Spoil you so good. You’ll never touch what’s mine again.”

“What’s yours?”

“You are, baby, all of you. Shouldn’t touch my cunt unless I say you can, that’s my job. Don’t tell me you think I can’t make you feel good?” His eyes sparkle in challenge, teeth bared in a grin.

That’s like, an under-negotiated kink or something. He totally doesn’t own you. He definitely can’t tell you not to touch yourself.

God, it’s such a fucking turn on. Every word has your cunt throbbing harder. It’s probably just dirty talk. Right?

“What,” You drawl, but your breaths are getting shorter as his fingers find their way inside you again, “Can you take responsibility for that, huh, Satoru?”

“I’ve never wanted to take responsibility for anything more in my life.” His fingers delve deeper, thumb rubbing over your clit.

You choke out a laugh, legs quivering. “Not a high bar.”

“It’s okay,” He steals another kiss before he falls off the bed and onto his knees again for you, “I told you, I can do it. You don’t need to touch yourself ever again. I’ll do it all. You shouldn’t have to rely on anyone but your alpha.”

“Ah,” Fuck, you really can’t speak at all, but – but every word is turning you on more, pulsing, pulsing, blood flowing down to the throbbing mess between your legs, “Ah – f-fuck! You don’t mean that, Satoru.”

Another breath, and then you continue, “What, are you really going to drop everything just to – to get between my legs – whenever I want to cum?”

Satoru groans like a broken man. “Please.”

His thumb is replaced on your clit with his tongue, just the right heat and slickness you were craving. Every lap sends your tender nerve endings throbbing. Thighs shaking. Close now.

“If I – if I ever want to touch myself, I just call you, you’ll come racing? Make use of that pretty face – hng, whenever I want? If I ever want to shut you up, I just sneak my hands beneath my panties – ”

The sound that comes from him sounds like it could be a sob, his hands wrap around your legs, seizing them in place as he abandons everything that’s not sucking your soul out through your clit, and fuck, fuck, how is he so perfect at this –

It comes, knocking the breath out of you, leaving you gasping. The heavy tug between your legs finally overwhelming your senses until everything just feels so good.

You reach out, groping numbly until you feel his soft hair in your hands, no strength left to squeeze.

Heat rocks through you, racing up your spine, swelling and swelling until you’re just warm everywhere, limbs tingling with a pleasant, blissful sort of numbness.

A hand settles over yours, large, heavy, and unbearably tender.

Every breath is orgasmic on its own, air flowing through you, heat radiating outwards until you feel it dissipate away gently.

Satoru’s moved you, slid you to lay on the bed while he sits over you. You don’t know when he did that, didn’t feel it.

It doesn’t matter. His hand threads through yours, and you watch him raise it up to kiss it again, lashes fluttering, lips still wet with your cum. There’s this look on his face, reverent and desperate, like he still can’t believe he’s gotten this lucky.

Finally, you see the toy slipping off, and with it, a gush of cum, sticky and trailing from his wet, stinging cock. He hisses at the exposure to open air. You’d honestly just tell him to put it in you if you weren’t worried he’d knot you in his sleep.  

Satoru settles beside you, arms wrapped around your form, face buried in your neck.

“Love you.” You feel it more than you hear it, mouthed against your neck, “Love you so much.” A drop of wetness on your throat. “Love you, love you, love you… never leave me, please, never… love you so much.”

His fangs glance over your throat, where no mark they leave will ever stick.

Your heart spills out of your chest a little, through your mouth.

“I love you, Satoru,” You murmur, “I’m a beta, I can’t give you what an omega can, I…” Old wounds, all healed over and aching. “But I’ll give you what I can. If you want it.”

Arms squeezing you. His teeth turn into a kiss, up, up, up your jawline until he’s face to face with you.

“I want it,” He says, eyes shimmering as he leans in to claim your lips. “I’ll always want it. Always you.”

-

Hours ago

“So are you guy still friends?” Suguru asks, sipping his beer, “You were such a bitch about them in high school. I almost thought you wanted to date them, but with them being a beta and all…”

Satoru groans. “Don’t remind me. I mean, I get how I was in high school, but they liked you, didn’t they? So they’re definitely into alphas.”

“They were. Maybe we permanently turned them off,” he snickers, drawing another groan from Satoru, “What changed, anyways? Why do you want to get with them now?”

“I dunno, man.” Gojo sips at his drink. “It was like one day I was walking them to campus, and they were showing me this picture of a white cat with blue eyes. And they were smiling while they said It’s you, Satoru! and I was about to tell them to shut up but my chest just… exploded.”

“No way. That’s what got to you?” A smile plays on Suguru’s lips, “Do you still have the picture?”

 “Shut uuuup. Anyways, I thought about it later and I thought, I want to walk with them every morning for the rest of my life. I want to never go a day without talking to them, or hanging out with them. Want to crawl in their silly little beta brain and live there rent free for the rest of my days.”

Satoru never paid rent to live in anyone’s head, and he lived in everyone’s. “Who’s to say you don’t already?”

“Not like I want to. I want them to think about me all the time, like I think about them. I want them to feel like they’ll die if they don’t see me every day."

His eyes shine with something dark and blue. "I want them to be all mine and no one else’s. I want them to think of me whenever they want something, come to me for everything.”

It’s as good as a love confession, coming from an alpha. Satoru doesn’t have to say it – Suguru knows what it means.

“So… have you told them?”

He startles when Satoru bangs his head on the table. “I wish! It’s like there’s nothing I can do to get them to look at me!”

"So... you haven't said anything, and you're just complaining that they aren't throwing themselves into your arms?"

"Exactly!" Satoru huffs, "I can tell I've gotten to them a little recently, too! We spend like, every waking moment together, and they let me. Why won't they just ask me out already? It's been months, I don't want to spend another rut alone!"

That actually is impressive, coming from Satoru. Back in high school, he would never spend his rut alone, until he and Suguru got close.

Suguru’s chuckle is nothing short of sinister, “God, you’re such a whiny bitch. Can’t believe you didn’t present as an omega.”

“Oh, fuck off.” He snarls, taking another swig of his fruity cocktail. Suguru wonders idly if he knows how much alcohol is in that.

“Sometimes I honestly thought you liked them back in high school, you were so damn clingy all the time. Total omega behavior. I would scent them for five seconds and you’d throw a total fit.”

The glare, the sudden sharp spike of angry alpha pheromones catches Suguru off guard. “You didn’t mean it, though! They had feelings for you and you knew it, and you didn’t like them back! You think I’m just gonna let you fuck around with my friend like that?”

“Hey, hey,” He shakes his head, like that can get the scent out of his nose. “I would’ve dated them, you know, treated them nice. They were cool, I would have given it a shot with them even if they were a beta. But they were so worried about your feelings, they couldn’t even confess.”

“Would’ve, should’ve, could’ve,” Satoru mumbles into his fruity drink, slumping forwards. “They would always side with you in arguments, too.”

“That was because you were an idiot. Godzilla couldn’t take on an Evangelion in a fight and you know it.”

“Dude, the cable! Literally all he’d have to do is cut the cable! I said this a million times! They were crushing on you, that’s why they said you were right.” His nose crinkles in that unbearably cute way. “The fuck was so great about you anyways? I’m way prettier.”

That makes Suguru laugh out loud. Satoru would know. “I honestly couldn’t tell you, Satoru. You’re pretty even when you sulk.”

“Shut up, asshole. You didn’t deserve them, anyways.”

“Yeah,” He sighs, “I guess I didn’t. You didn’t, either, in case you were wondering.”

“Didn’t fuckin’ ask.” Satoru sounds so pouty that he laughs again.

He gives Satoru’s shoulder a good-hearted slap, drawing out a growl from his friend. “We were a pair of fucking jerks back then, you know that. They should’ve ditched our dumb asses the week we presented.”

“You were a jerk. I never led them on, and it’s not like they noticed the scenting!”

“Heh. God, we got away with so much shit because they were a beta and didn’t know what was going on. Got into a pissing contest over a beta we didn’t even want to fuck.” Suguru sighs with a smile, leaning an arm on the bar. “I guess they were just that good of a friend, huh.”

Satoru bites his lip, resting his face on his crossed arms, laid over the table. “Yeah. The best. The one person I never wanted to lose, no matter what. I was so pissed off that you were stealing their attention when you didn’t even like them back.”

“Yeah. I know why you didn’t follow me when I left.”

Satoru snorts. “Don’t sound so morose. I was upfront with my plans from the beginning, you were the one who chose another path.”

“I thought we were friends, though?” A smile plays over Suguru’s lips. Nostalgic.

“So did they. You ditched them, too.” He glares at Suguru out of the corner of his eyes. “Sure, they were too cowardly to confess to you, but you could’ve said something. You never even told them you could smell it when you turned them on.”

“Ha! Neither did you.”

“Why the fuck would I? That shit pissed me off. You’re not that hot.”

Suguru grins at him, “I’m not? You know, I can smell it when you get hard, too – ”

“Oh, fuck off!”

“If it wasn’t for me, then it must have been for them.”

Surugu knows damn well how many times Satoru got a boner because of him. It gets Satoru all cute and irritable.

“Go fuck yourself, Suguru. You can change the subject all you want, but you still ditched both of us. You think I should’ve ditched them along with you?”

He looks down, at his almost-empty beer. “You think they wouldn’t have followed you, if you followed me?”

Neither of them says anything for a moment. Satoru takes one last drinkof his fruity cocktail. His cheeks are flushed a faint pink; painfully attractive, even now. Prettiest alpha he’d ever seen.

He can’t even deny you deserve an alpha like him.

Beautiful, confident, loyal Satoru, who adored Suguru all throughout high school, but wouldn’t leave you for him.

Satoru who cared way more about protecting your feelings than acting on his own. You who cared more about Satoru’s feelings than your crush.

That’s not the kind of friendship you can get just by being similar, by understanding each other. It’s something you raise by hand. Feed it, shelter it, tolerate it when it throws a fit. Learn with it, grow with it, care for it even when it’s shitty. There’s married couples who don’t try that hard.

If friendship is love, then you and Satoru had been in love for years, and Suguru was just the best friend.

“I texted them.” Satoru blurted out. “They’re picking me up tonight.”

“Oh?” Suguru gives him a sly glance. “You telling me after all these years, you’re finally going to shoot your damn shot?”

A scoff. “Nah. I mean – I told you. I really didn’t have that sort of feeling for them back then.”

“Oh, I know.” He rolls his eyes, “But I figured it was going to end like this when you didn’t follow me. If you weren’t willing to leave them for me, then who would you leave them for?”

“Cut the shit, Suguru. If you love someone you don’t make them choose. Whatever you felt for me, your plans for the future were more important than that.”

Suguru stares at his hands. “Why do you think I didn’t ask you?”

Satoru looks away.

They both know why he didn’t ask.

“Still… you’re not going to shoot your shot?”

The blush on Satoru’s cheeks seems a little redder.

His heart aches, because once upon a time, that look was for him. Little stolen moments in locker rooms or during movie nights. A ghost of a heart that was once his.

“I dunno, man. They’re a beta, and I think our bullshit from high school still has them kinda fucked up. Like, they probably think I’m only into omegas.”

Suguru snickers. “You gotta admit, it’s pretty fucking funny. You’ve crushed on everyone except omegas.”

“It’s not like that! You and them just happened to be an alpha and a beta!” Satoru’s words are impassioned – like they get when he’s tipsy, “I just – I just liked you. And now I just like them. Doesn’t matter what they are.”

Three years later, he finally has a confession. It’s a liked rather than like, but at least he’s got the words out of Satoru’s mouth.

You’ll get more than that, he knows. Satoru would move heaven and earth for you.

You’ll get a confession and more, a lot more than a few stolen kisses or heavy petting session here and there, as soon as Satoru’s finished being a huge pussy.

Suguru gets up, glancing at his friend slumped over the counter. Satoru is too busy groaning to see the wistful look on his face, but he does hear his parting words.

“Good luck, Satoru.”

-

You settle into his arms. Warm, fuzzy, sated. Satoru wraps his arms and legs around you like some kind of koala.

He nestles your head under his chin, pulling you tight against him so you can feel his purrs rumbling against you, light and soothing.

The air is full of contentment, the scent of an alpha pleased and purring, every breath warming you down to the bones – even if his body pressed against you does a good enough job of that.

“Mmm…” It’s hard to think, hard to form any words when all you want to do is relax into blissful slumber, “Satoru?”

Your answer is a squeeze, a moment of tightness that leaves you breathless, just for a little instant. No ability to move at all, and even less will to. You’d laugh, if you had the breath for it.

Instead, you hum, “You smell good.”

He purrs harder at that, happy pheromones, a compliment any alpha would be pleased with. Breathing deeply against you, like he wants to take you directly into his bloodstream.

And then, for a moment, he pauses.

“Oh… Hey,” Satoru asks lazily as he snuggles into you, “How did you know about the scarf and the sock?”

He’s going to remind you of how gross and needy he was while you’re all sticky and tired and stuck in bed with you? Typical Satoru.

“Mmmh.” It’s hard to talk, warm and cozy as you are, all nestled against him, “You reek. Probably because of your rut, too… could smell your cum a mile away.”

He hums in acceptance, and settles against you, ready to doze off.

For a moment, he’s silent, leaving the both of you to drift peacefully –

“EEEEHHH??”

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Hi! Recently I became curious about how ancient people hunted in the world of TwistedWonderland.🧔🏹🦣

If they didn't have magic in Monster Au, they used their wits and ingenuity. Animal hunting and fishing🦣 🏹 🐟. Pits, a stone maze so for catching fish and cattle.

You can see the reaction to the methods and techniques of trapping characters.

Don't mind me trying to work my way into a good groove and answering asks in my inbox 😅

It’s simply amazing what human ingenuity can do to get a task done, especially when it comes to surviving out in nature! Throw these craft humans into a world of monsters and magic, and you pretty much have what most epics and legends in our world describe mythical creatures and feats of strength. 😆

Once Yuu arrives in Twisted Monsterland, they may start seeing old paintings depicting clashes between humans and monsters. Ranging from spears and swords mistakenly melding into flesh like malformed limbs and claws to wearing leather and gleaming silver armor mistaken as insectoid carapaces, it’s no wonder humans were used in stories to scare little children into being good. These ancient humans looked positively monstrous—perhaps even more so than any monster in existence. Perhaps that is why so many were both terrified and confused as to why this scrunkly of a creature calling itself a human didn’t even match the few surviving paintings from a bygone era.

Pair that with the stories told on how ancient humans would hunt for food or built traps to capture monsters and comparing that to how Yuu looks? It’s easy for the monsters to brush off these abilities of magicless humans as being anything more than just mere fantasy or exaggeration. There’s simply no way a human can build traps and webs like spider monsters, create fire that lasts for days without smoke, or chase their prey for days on end without breaking a sweat!

Turns out, those myths are more true than the monsters realize. Especially if their resident human just so happens to have survivalist training under their belt…

///Camp Vargas///

“Uh…why are you digging a hole in the ground?”

“Making a fire pit.”

Ace glanced at Yuu as they continued to shovel more dirt out of a relatively large hole. “So…if you’re building a pit, then why did you make a smaller hole right here?” he asked, pointing at said opening in the dirt. “And if you’re building a fire, why aren’t you making one above ground? Are you trying to bury it or something?”

The shovel broke the last of the dirt wall between the holes before Yuu straightened up, gathering several long branches they’d collected with several large cuts of logs and starting to set them up at an angle. “Oh, I’m still building one above ground. I’m just making two different ones.” Pointing at the hole they’d just dug out, they said, “We call this one a ‘Dakota Fire Hole’. Typically this one is used for outdoor cooking, since it produces little smoke and doesn’t need a lot of fuel.” Setting some sticks and tinder inside the larger of the two holes, the took a piece of flint and began striking it with a stone. Soon a small yet hot fire was blazing inside the hole, just barely licking the air outside of the hole before settling down into a steady flicker. “The second hole generates airflow, which keeps the fire fueled with oxygen so it’ll burn longer.”

“Then what’s the other one for?”

“A self-feeding campfire.” They began loading chopped logs on both sides of the now V-shaped structure they’d built. “It uses gravity to drop new logs to keep the fire going, which means it’ll last all night. Pretty handy so you don’t have to keep getting up to replenish the log pile!”

One ear lowering in confusion, Ace stared at Yuu as they struck up another inferno on the bottom log. Somehow the fire didn’t crawl or spread to the rest of the logs. “…how exactly did you learn this?” he finally asked.

“Survivalist training. Why do you ask?”

Snap! Twang! “Fynaaah!?” Fwoosh!

“Uh oh. Grim! I told you to stay away from there! That’s where I set up the snare trap.”

“Why did you set it up so close to the tent?!” the chimera yowled as students stared in shock and surprise.

“To keep away intruders.” A sudden cacophony of clattering and clanging rang out, followed by a startled mix of a canine yelp and deer-like squeal before a thud hit the ground. “Epel! Are you okay?!”

“What is this?!” the einfield snarled, twisting and trying to untangle himself from the string of empty cans and bells. “Git it offa me!”

“Hold still, or you’ll strangle your wings! Ace, could you get Grim down for me? The snare hook is on the ground behind the tree on the tent’s left side.”

As Yuu went to free Epel from the new contraption—which Ace heard them comment was their ‘alarm system’—he shook his head in confusion and disbelief. What was even happening? Did Yuu pick up some strange trick from one of the spider monster students when he wasn’t looking? “I’m not taking another step until you tell me what other traps you set up,” he finally called out, warily looking around for more strings and rope near his large rabbit feet. “I don’t want to get tangled up in anything like those two did!”

“Oh don’t worry, I didn’t have time to set up any other snares or alarms yet,” Yuu called out, carefully freeing Epel’s arm before working on freeing the rest of his body. “You’re safe, so long as you-”

Shoof! “WAH!?!” a familiar loud voice screamed, the sound echoing so far that it reverberated through the trees. WHUD!! “Urk…HUMAN!!! What foul trickery is this?!?”

“…oh, right. I forgot about the pit trap I dug earlier,” Yuu said as multiple eyes stared at them.

“Why in Twisted Wonderland would you need to build something like that?!” Riddle all but shouted once it sank in what just happened.

“Hey, if a bear comes rampaging around the camp because you guys aren’t putting your food away, don’t come crying to me if there’s no pit trap to keep it busy!”

Needless to say, after everyone was rescued, no one could fathom how Yuu learned such archaic—if frighteningly deceptive—trapping methods for a camping trip. It wasn’t until the last night of Camp Vargas that they understood why when the remaining students used the trap to buy themselves some time from the “beast” before running to the swamp.

/-------------/

Now of course the defensive traps were pretty impressive, Ruggie had to admit that much. But traps that catch fish with little to no effort? Even he was impressed by the speed at which Yuu was able to harvest so many fish in one sitting, and with a simple stick and twine “fence”? Let alone the basketful of fish they’d caught by hand after making a shady spot with a tarp propped over the water!

“Sure, I could use a fishing rod if I wanted,” Yuu commented as they continued whittling away at the tip of a sturdy branch. “A net would also come in handy, but since we’re going to be here for a short time, I wouldn’t be able to make a decent one to use it effectively.” Jabbing their carving knife over at the fire pits they had dug earlier, they added, “Besides, if I don’t adapt and use what I have available, then I can lose out on a good food source and my chances of survival are slim to none.”

“Huh. Yeah, that makes sense,” he agreed, the leucrocuta looking between his catch and Yuu’s. The human’s collection was quickly catching up to Floyd’s, which was surprising since he’d stopped earlier due to boredom. “This came from that survival training thing you mentioned earlier, right?”

“Mm-hm! I can teach you a few things I learned if you want.”

“Shehehehe~! Sounds great! Just one question though: what’cha making? Some kind of walking stick?”

“Oh, this? It’s going to be a spear.”

“…spear?” The word sounded vaguely familiar, though he couldn’t quite place why as he tried to examine it. It didn’t look like anything he’d seen any other monster use or make before. “What’s it for?”

“It’s used for different things, like defense or attacking.” Cutting a few more chips off, Yuu stood up and examined their work. They had whittled one end of the branch to the point it was needle-sharp, a sight that weirdly sent chills down his spine when he looked at it. “I made this one specifically to go spear fishing. Here, I’ll show you!”

As they walked into the water, he expected the human to immediately strike into the water like they had when they did the shadow fishing. However, they simply stood still, eyes locked onto the water’s surface with the spear raised over their shoulder. He watched in silence, instinctively knowing that Yuu was hunting for their prey yet not understanding how this would work. Suddenly, they tensed, their shoulders tightening as they raised their spear higher in a smooth motion. For the briefest moment, he swore he saw the human with the needle-sharp arm in his history book instead of Yuu, his heart leaping in his throat at the vivid imagery. Before he could react, the spear was sent flying forward-

Splosh!

And struck the riverbed, Yuu immediately rushing forward to grab the upright tool before pulling it out. To his shock and utter amazement, the spear had pierced the body of a large trout, still flopping even as Yuu carried it back to shore with a triumphant grin on their face. Their smile faded to one of concern as they asked, “You okay, Ruggie? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Chuckling nervously, Ruggie uttered, “Uh…you could say that.” A ghost of the past maybe, he thought as he picked up the baskets. “Hey, uh, why don’t we go ahead and cook these? I think we’ve got enough!”

“Oh. Sure, sounds good. Oh! I know a few tricks to preserve the meat for later!”

“Great! Just…do me a favor and not point that spear thing at anyone, okay?”

////////

I’m pretty sure there’s a lot more that could be said or done, but you get the picture. XD Hope you all enjoy!

[fallingdownhell]

Takes place when the Sumeru 4 (Alhaitham, Kaveh, Cyno and Tighnari) are still Akademiya students.

You're that one quiet, unassuming classmate of theirs who wears large, nerdy glasses and your main goal is to graduate without any attention drawn to you

Too bad, that backfires when one day, you somehow forget to wear your glasses to class and all of your classmates realize just how pretty you are.

Cute, I like this one.

Characters Included: Alhaitham; Cyno; Tighnari; Kaveh

Content: gender neutral reader; nothing else as far as I am aware

Word count: 1,2k words

Something short and sweet. Have fun!

Alhaitham

he does a double take at you as he looks up from his book

he's heard the whispering among other students, but didn't pay much mind to them, thinking they were over exaggerating again, like they always do

when you walk into class, looking completely different than you usually do, it takes him by surprise

is that really you? can glasses really have that much of an affect on people's appearances?

well, whatever it is, he doesn't say anything to you, just simply focuses back on his book

throughout the day, he notices that you became the main attraction for everyone. People coming up to you and asking questions, swarming all over you

he had half a mind to ignore them and just leave the situation, but upon seeing how uncomfortable you felt, trapped in this situation, he supposed he could lend a helping hand

under the guise of having to talk to you about something related to a project, he removed you from the situation

he stayed with you until you reached a quiet corner in the house of Daena, where you thanked him for his help

he just nodded at you, not really saying anything further but just looking at you

you begin to feel uncomfortable again, what if he views you as an attraction of sort like those other people?

yet, he simply asks you why you're not wearing your glasses again

having not expected him to say anything, you answer that they broke the other day and you're still waiting for them to be repaired

he just nodded again, then left and went about his day, but not before telling you to seek him out should you require his help again

you look after him, dumbfounded, not sure why exactly Alhaitham, of all people, was engaging in conversation with you and offering up his help to you

little did you know that he thinks of you as quite cute without your glasses. In his mind, they could just stay broken so he could continue to admire you..

Cyno

Does not recognize you

AT ALL

He doesn't mean it in a bad way or anything, but you genuinely look like a completely different person to him without your glasses, so what is he supposed to think?

When you walk into class that day, he sees you and immediately walks over to you, asking you if you switched up your classroom since he's never seen you here before

you're confused about his statement, telling him that you're in the right room and that you've been part of this class for the last half year

again, does not believe you

even when you tell him your name, he refuses to acknowledge that it's really you. He thinks it's someone walking around and pretending to be you

you have to show him your ID and even then, he's still not fully convinced

after all, if what you're saying is true, then the only thing different about you is you not wearing your glasses. But that little thing can't have that much effect on your appearance... right?

He wants to argue more, but then the professor comes in, ending the discussion between you two. And after class, you're gone too quickly for him to engage again

the next day, you come into class with your glasses on again and he thinks everything is fine again

He walks up to you and strikes up a conversation with you. As he was about to mention yesterdays events, you proceed to take off your glasses in front of him

"Believe me now?", you asked him

he was dumbfounded

apologizes profusely to you, for at least a week straight. He can't believe he made such a fool of himself. Such an embarrassement!

You quickly forgive him, it's not like he meant anything bad or was harming you in any way. But that doesn't mean that you can't tease him about it every chance you get..

Tighnari

does indeed recognise you

Tighnari, I think, is a person that pays decent amount of attention to all his classmates. Not excessively, but a normal amount

so of course he notices the change in appearance almost instantly, since your glasses were a big part about your looks

however, he notices that people are whispering among themselves, talking about you

most are taking guesses on why you suddenly decided to not wear them. Some guess that they were broken, others think that you just forgot. And some not so nice people think that you're doing it for attention

because, now that you weren't wearing them, everyone could clearly tell how good looking you were

Tighnari found himself getting unreasonably frustrated with those mean people, claiming that you were just seeking attention

so, he decided to go up to you and strike up a conversation. You were confused, but at the same time pleasantly so, about this turn of events

because even if Tighnari paid attention to his classmates, that doesn't mean that he interacts with them often

so for him to go up and talk to you first was a big deal. You offered the seat next to you to him, which he took and sat down next to you

the two of you got into talking and as time went on, Tighnari continued to sit next to you, even after you started wearing your glasses again

he never questions you about it, since you must have your reasons for it

he's happy as long as he get to talk to you, since during all that time, he actually grew quite fond of you...

Kaveh

also doesn't really notice it

Kaveh is always deep with his nose in another architectual project, focused mostly on him and his ideas

he doesn't mean it in a rude way, it's just that he has many ideas and he has to write them down constantly or he forgets about them

so yeah.. mainly focuses on himself than the people in his classroom, but he tries to stay friendly with everyone and keep nice conversations with them

one day, he is assigned to work on a project together with you and the two of you decide to move to the House of Daena where it's more quiet so you can properly brainstorm about it

during this brainstorming, Kaveh keeps staring at you. Honestly, it's really irritating to you , but you try to ignore it the best you can for the sake of your grades

meanwhile, Kaveh is deep in thought. He knows something is different about you, he's talked to you many times, so he's sure that you did something, but he can't quite place it and it's driving him crazy!

Until... he suddenly has a moment of realization!

he gasps out loud once he's gotten it, making you look at him questioningly

"Don't you usually wear glasses?", he asks you then, wanting to know your reason for leaving them

You hadn't thought he would notice this, to be honest. You tell him, truthfully, that you simply forgot to put them on this morning

"Hmm... you should do that more often. You look quite dashing without them on."

he says this matter-of-factly, then simply turning back to focus on the project. Meanwhile, you're a blushing mess from his unexpected compliment, yet he doesn't notice

he means what he said to you, but he didn't think it would have such an effect on you

but, thinking back on it now.. maybe this was the moment that the infatuation with each other started for the both of you...

[xx-j4nu5-c4t5-xx]

"An ideal Sims game would have Sims 2's gameplay mechanics, Sims 3's open world, and Sims 4's graphics!"

I absolutely despise this take, and I want to explain why. This is a very long rant and it is full of piss and vinegar directed at everything in the Sims 4. I'm gonna try to keep everything kinda professional as much as I can but I can't guarantee an unbiased opinion.

If you'll let me talk your ears off for a moment, I'd like to explain, from my own experience as an artist and a casual player, my issues with the art style and direction of The Sims 4 compared to The Sims 2. (I'm not really going to comment on 3 because I've never played it.)

I want to start off by explaining the difference between better graphics and higher resolution. The Sims 4 absolutely blows Sims 2 out of the water when it comes to textures and polygon counts on sims, no contest. But I'd argue that the graphics themselves... aren't better. They're worse, even, so much fucking worse. The biggest problems come from the stylization and the animations, in my opinion, so I'll explain what I mean.

Have you ever felt like the Sims in 4 just look... weird? Not quirky, not kinda strange, but off. Distressing. Uncanny. Whatever the fuck the kids call it nowadays. When you strip away the packs and the CC and the shaders, the sims in the base game look bad. They're very close to being human; they walk like us, talk like us, have families like us, but they don't look like us, not exactly. There's always something off about them, no matter how close you try to get. Proportions will be a bit off, or your eyelashes will be like three polygons for some fucking reason, and the jig is up. The illusion is gone.

This is one of the instances where a higher resolution and more detailed models and meshes work against you. You aren't making believe. You are beyond the point of pretending that the pixelated shapes are real clothes and bodies and faces, because at this point, they're close enough that you don't need to. There's no gap to bridge. But that doesn't necessarily mean that they're lifelike, at least, not enough to be completely human. In some ways, they're still tethered to being cartoony and plasticky and fake. Just enough to frighten you. Enough to put you off. They're not using it to their advantage anymore, and instead, it's holding them back.

When the Sims 2 came out in 2004, the developers knew that they weren't going to make a perfectly accurate life simulator. They physically couldn't render every wrinkle in the face or fold in the clothing. In some animations, things clip strangely or the facial expressions are sort of janky or there's just some form of roughness around the edges. But that's okay; your brain doesn't need a perfectly accurate representation this time. That's not what you're here for, anyway.

The Sims 4 is basically Icarus-ing itself into disaster. The entire game sacrifices style for complete realism, a goal that was unachievable ten years ago, and is unachievable now.

The Sims 2 never thought of itself as a completely realistic life sim, though. It has cartoony, low poly meshes and exaggerated proportions and wild, raunchy storylines that would never occur in real life. BECAUSE IT ISN'T REAL LIFE. And it isn't like real life, not because it's failing to be, but because it doesn't want to be!

The Sims 4 is not ever going to completely replicate human looks or interactions or dynamics. And if it's trying to, it's doing a shit job of it. That shouldn't be the goal in the first place. If I wanted to watch a lonely college student talk to himself in the mirror to try and get better at interacting with people, I'd close the computer and go look at myself. It somehow highlights the most mundane parts of life without any of the whimsy and goofiness that the earlier installments had. It takes itself too fucking seriously for its own good, and it's killing both the gameplay and the art style.

The other point I'd like to bring up is the animation. The Sims 4 allows for much more customization of both sim and environments, but at the cost of dynamic animations. How many times is that grab animation reused? How many times is the same set of animations used for sims with wildly different personalities? Your sims barely feel alive with how little they express themselves.

Now, look, I'm a digital artist. I've dabbled in animation, but only briefly, and only in 2D. I've got no clue how 3D animation works, much less how it worked 20 years ago, but I can see the passion in every single animation in the Sims 2. The more niche interactions allowed for more expressive animations than in 4. They could afford to have a distinct animation for mean sims throwing the football extra hard to be assholes, rather than every sim using the same generic football-throwing animation to save time and money. I get where they're coming from. I get the idea. But in one move, you've both made the art style stiffer and less expressive, and you've made the personalities of the sims seem meaningless. Everyone acts the same, regardless of what their moodlets or their traits say. It's hollow. It's stifled. It's a waste of potential.

But for what Sims 2 lacks in polygons, it makes up for in smaller animated details. Quality over quantity. The sims have hair physics, they open the door before they get in the car, they take utensils out of the counters when they cook, they jump on the couch and the cushions smush under their weight. When they dance, the weight is realistic, and when they smile, it tugs at every one of the few dozen shapes that make up their faces. The sims are lively. They dance and sing and love and hate just like humans, and rather than being some strange attempt at mimicry, it's almost a tribute. They were made with love. You can tell that they were drawn up and rigged and animated by a bunch of people working together, studying each other and making faces in the mirror for reference and watching their kids and neighbors and dogs and hands for reference. The sims are not human, and not trying to be, but they're taking the most human parts of us and making them their own.

You could never have a game with the Sims 4's graphics and the Sims 2's gameplay. The gameplay and graphics are inexorably connected, and the Sims 2 just has so much glorious detail baked into it, that you could never really make it work underneath the limitations of the later games. The developers of 2 knew what their limits were, and they worked tirelessly to make the game as full and complex as they could within those limits. The developers for the Sims 4 just did not have those guidelines, and thus, the drive to bend the rules was no longer there. They didn't go wild in rebellion because they were never told they couldn't in the first place. They spent the entire time chasing a goal they couldn't meet, and lost sight of what made the series fun to begin with.

It wasn't the realism you came for; you had realism already surrounding you. It was the caricature of it that made it interesting.

[gacha-incels]

regarding character design in gacha games- if you haven’t played many, I will show examples from some popular ones here. This is for reference regarding confusion as to why incels often play these games. This isn’t to cover everything in these games either, there are games with much more absurd designs and I’m not even going to get into the “sexy little girl” designs a lot of them have. In the future I plan to research more and intend to make a concise post regarding the incel relationship with these games. These character designs and tropes exist across societies and are enforced through many types of media - it’s not just gacha games alone perpetuating them. I think they are however hypervisual in this specific genre mostly due to the huge amounts of money being spent by players in “purchasing” them. again this is just for reference, if you already are familiar with female character gacha design feel free to skip this. I’ll put it under a cut.

gacha games are infamous for typically having extremely sexualized female characters who will usually flatter the assumed male player. Again there are some that designers and writers will dress more chaste or have them give the player shit, but by “winning” these characters they are now “yours” anyway, they are not real women and therefore can’t walk away. I believe a big part of this appeal is due to incel men wanting to control a woman designed for an audience of people like him. The hypersexualization serves both to flatter his idea of a woman’s true place (his consumption) and to create a very rigid and obvious differentiation between men and women during a time when women are fighting tooth and nail for their dignity and equal rights.

Nostalgia and rigid character design dichotomy can be seen in the extremely popular gacha game Fate/Grand Order, I believe a good piece of its success can be attributed to this. There are thousands of Japanese gacha games that take already popular anime franchises and create a money pit gacha with them, it’s been happening for over a decade now. These games usually make bank taking already popular characters and giving them hypersexualized alts and costumes. FGO is an interesting phenomenon to me because it seems like for a lot of fans, the Fate franchise’s cultural touchstone is now this actual gacha game. The game adds popular existing Fate characters of course, so you can see how different the gacha character designs are from the VN/animes:

When you can only watch them/read their stories, the characters are dressed like the above examples. When they are added to the game and you can buy and own them, they look like the bottom examples.

The (rare) depiction of darker skinned female characters in these gacha games is pretty uniform across the board- they are somehow, consistently, sexualized even more than the other female characters, they are often exoticized and sometimes have a “wild” or rebellious looking aspect incorporated. I would consider this something the intended audience expects to see, regardless of the truth, and the gacha game reflects this back to their customers, therefore enshrining this damaging stereotype to its audience. These examples don’t account for everything of course.

As to not offend the delicate male viewer, these games also typically design furry/animal characters by having the female retain the most human-like features (like a small and delicate face) while the male is allowed to actually look like the animal. When a female character has armor that conceals her sex, there is of course a version of her you can “upgrade” where she takes off her armor to reveal a very delicate girl in revealing clothing.

Typically, the consumer will see powerful, sturdy looking male designs that attempt to not alienate the straight male viewer first before adding “sexy” elements. In contrast, female characters are almost always very thin (often with exaggerated tits and ass) and her pose is chosen to show off her body first, before her power. This is an Arknights dual banner that displays this design philosophy well:

some of the biggest incel shitfits come from male designs they see as being sexualized and objectified as the typical female design. these are 3 characters Korean incels have lost their minds over:

In their world, the rigid sex dichotomy is breaking down and the hierarchal system of gender where men are on top is being threatened. they don’t feel powerful seeing lithe and skimpily dressed men, and they aren’t the hentai “femboy” fetish these guys seem ok with either. incels see these games as their playground. when designs like these are included, they see it as their job to rectify this. Lyney’s costume and demeanor is too “sexy” and “gay” for Korean incels, they mass dislike his character trailer and write hateful comments across SNS. Sinclair is shirtless and wearing a collar - Korean incels are furious he’s wearing less than the female summer character and see the collar as meaning he’s a “slave” for the female customer. This snowballs into them targeting a female artist on staff, Vellmori, and getting her fired even though it was a male artist who illustrated the cards. I’ve posted Korean incels comments on the Honkai Star Rail character- similar to Lyney, they are angry he looks “slutty” and/or “gay” since he has a boob window and detached sleeves. This is too similar to how the female characters are made “sexy” and it means women have prominent roles creating for these games, something incels of course hate. Regarding the role women should have in creating these games, a Korean incel wrote (after seeing photos that include many female staff members at Mihoyo) that they should just be there working at the cafe to serve coffee to male employees and look pretty for them.

In regards to how some of these games are marketed, we can again look to the article written by a Korean woman who was a victim of feminist ideological verification.

character designs for NIKKE and Destiny Child:

what the gameplay for NIKKE looks like:

[jensensitive]

I am obsessed with the way in which you draw Dean. You have his features nailed to perfection - somehow your Dean looks even more Dean than Dean in the show, because you exaggerate everything that makes him HIM. It's truly breathtaking <3 Any advice on how to get those features so flawless?

This is so so nice, thank you so much 😭💕💕💕

Honestly Dean is like my go-to thing to draw basically, and has been for many years, like I have to try to refrain myself from just drawing Dean again sometimes. He's like probably half of how I've learned to draw at all. So there's definitely practice there.

That said, I did not immediately have much of answer to this. It's like, his face is just his perfect, beautiful face, and then I try to draw that. 😅

So I drew some Dean to figure out what it is I do, so thanks for the excuse to draw more Dean lol

Extensive answer under the cut

If you're drawing something realistic from reference, for Dean you kind of have two options, you can either get a screencap that's closer up so you can see details better, but the top of his head is cut off, or you can get one where you can see less details but his whole torso is in frame. It can be weirdly difficult to guess at where the top of his head is sometimes, and you don't need details to capture a likeness, I think it was Sargent that said that the shape of the head is actually the most important aspect in capturing a likeness, so it's something to keep in mind. On the other hand, if you want to look at his pretty eyelashes while you draw him, you might want something closer up. (An understandable impulse).

Another thing is just to look for a reference that you really like, contrasty light and shadow are also great to look for. It's difficult to create a great drawing without them, but also it will illustrate the structure of his head best too. Look for shadow shapes you want to draw. If a reference is too dark (as it often is, because it's supernatural), edit it so you can actually see what you're drawing lmao.

I took a bunch of random screencaps of 11x02-- as random as I could, normally I'd just take screencaps of what I already kind of like, but I tried to just get all of it so you can see what I'm not choosing. (also couldn't help taking some cas ones when the lighting was going really hard)

I love a profile, I love a 3/4 view, I love when his eyes are like half open. His face was kinda giving towards the end of this episode.

Hopefully you can see them well enough. The mass ideas are more important for picking at impactful reference, but ofc I'm also trying to avoid any where he's making a dumb face or it's blurry. Sometimes that's only evident when I open it bigger, but that's okay, we have a bunch to pick from.

a. This one is one I picked out because it's an interesting angle, and I'd definitely do a little study of it, but because the lighting is so soft, it probably wouldn't be super interesting.

b. I like this one, the face he's making is hilarious, and I like the rhythm of his hand, but if I were to draw it, I might draw a fourth finger, otherwise it might look strange. So keep that in mind too, if it looks odd in the reference, it will look odd in the drawing, so unless you're confident that you can effectively change it, pick a different reference or find a second reference to help you change it.

c. This lighting's more dynamic, and I like his expression.

d. Would be hard to pick between these. This one's 3/4 and has a nice eyelash shadow, and I love the shape of his eye when it's downturned.

e. Shoutout to the shape of Jensen's brow when he looks down gotta be one of my favorite genders. + subtle Rembrandt lighting. Lovely.

f. This one is so good. Overhead lighting getting a shadow from his ear in a sideview, defining the jaw in an interesting way. Great expression. It's a bit strange, the way he's looking to the side, so it might be hard to draw convincingly, but would be worth it if I could do it. The shadow from the hair defining the shape of the brow. The light on the cheek defining the slight eyebag. The reflected light under the eye, the light landing on the nose. Would probably change the hair a bit because it looks a bit odd at this angle in this lighting, and if drawn like this it would probably look at bit block-like.

g. More rembrandt lighting. Shoutout to the shadow that this upper lip casts on his lower lip. Shoutout to the shadow his lower lip casts on his chin. Shoutout to the line of light defining his neck. Shoutout to the shape of his brow and forehead.

h. The rhythms here are chefs kiss-- the shadow line diagonal from the corner of his hairline to the corner of his brow echoed by the shadow line diagonal of his cheekbone, then that second line following through to the line of light on his neck that curves the other way.

i. This one's kinda boring wrt lighting, but it's an interesting enough angle to do a study of.

I'm going with screencap c because it's gonna work well to effectively illustrate the basic structure of how I construct his features. It's not directly straight-on, so the form isn't lost, but it's straight enough on to properly show our proportions.

For supplies here, I'm just using a soft charcoal pencil, I just use the kinda cheap ones (currently Markart) cause I actually like them better than General's. And it's on smooth newsprint. I just get it in a big thing of 500 sheets. Not archival but it's a cheap thing that's incredibly enjoyable to draw on. Pink Papermate eraser and a kneaded eraser. The pen I use at one point for some reason is a red Pentel RSVP ballpoint I think, although I actually prefer a Bic.

1. So first thing I block in that main shape, in this case, his head and shoulders. I also have to draw in the hairline at the same time, cause I can't figure it out otherwise. He's got kind of pointy ears. The collar of his jacket often comes up pretty high on the back of his neck. He's got a distinctive hairline that I think can go a long way to showing it's Dean, it's worth taking note of. It swoops to our left, and then the corner (I guess?) of his hairline will line up with the corner/arch of his brow. And don't draw the hairline as an unbroken line, but several lines with some room to breathe. His shoulders are pretty straight and broad, but about three heads across which is pretty normal.

2. Next what I think about is the shape of the eyesockets and the line of the brow. This bit will go a ways for conveying Dean's expression, because he has a wide range from light and happy to horribly scowly that's in the brows. You don't have to define the exact line of the brow at this moment, blocking in the general line is fine just to have an idea of where it lands. You can go back later and refine it. I also find where the bottom lid lands. In my brain it makes a shape like what I've drawn. I might not draw it just like this, but even if I don't, this is the shape I'm thinking about. The line from the end of his eyebrow to his bottom lid is a fave, sometimes you can see it on him, especially at an angle, and it's real pretty.

3. Next I find where the bottom of his nose lands, it's about double the length of the eyesocket. And the line under his bottom lip, about halfway between his nose and the bottom of his chin. These measurements are pretty average measurements for a face. I didn't give myself enough room for his chin initially, so I moved it down to fix it. Also adjusted his face very slightly wider on the right side, cause it's looking a bit narrow.

4. I added some of our shadow shapes. This is where finding a reference with well-defined shadows will be very helpful. And I sketched in the clothes cause why not. The clothes don't have to be perfect, who cares, Dean's collar is not our point of interest lol. The shadow on the neck will probably be slightly curved because of the roundness of the neck. If it's not, you might want to make it curve slightly anyway just to help define the form. I blocked in where the eyes are.

eyes: For Jensen's lovely eyes, they have a specific shape that is so nice to draw, especially at certain and angles and with certain expressions. But basically the top lid is more angular and can be almost boxed off at the end, and the line from the corner of the eye to the lashes is an s-curve that's higher in the middle. Again, not unusual features in drawing a face, but such pretty examples. The shadow that his lower lid casts (or his makeup idk?) is often dark enough to look vaguely like eyeliner. Jensen's lower eyelids, an underrated part of Jensen. His eyebrows are thicker in the middle and sparser on the ends.

5. Next I found the corners of the lips. This is an important aspect in the way I draw mouths. Sometimes I just draw them with dots where the corners of the lips are, a curve where the lips part in the middle, a shadow under the bottom lip, and the curve of the cupid's bow. (This is seen below in 6) I think I also adjusted the bottom lip shadow here. Straight-on, the middle of his lips is slightly higher than the corners, but of course, this will change when not straight-on, depending on if we're looking up or down at his mouth. I also sketched in the nose shape. The ridge of his nose has a nice subtle bump, and then the ball of his nose is very slightly squared off I think, from a front-facing perspective, I feel like. And I drew in his slightly drawn brows. Just pay attention to the angles in your reference, because the expression, the perspective and the angle of the head can impact it. But of course generally, drawn down in the middle, furrowed = scowly; drawn up, unfurrowed = happy.

nose: I prefer drawing his nose in profile. And who wouldn't, look at it! The slight curve of the bridge and then the ball of the nose. I will exaggerate this a little sometimes, just because it's fun and I like it. I couldn't find a reference, but from below, you can see the shape of the bottom of his nose, it dips in the middle a bit more than average. Drawing the bottom of the nose is often a delicate balance between shadow and reflected light. I love keeping it light, save for the nostrils, but then the shadow under the nose can be important too. Sometimes it's just a stylistic choice. Note that there's a plane change between the side of the nose and the cheek. (I think I drew his nose too upturned here, but the general idea is still there)

6/mouth: In drawing the mouth, the top line of the upper lip looks more rectangular at the ends, increasingly so as it turns away from us, and much less so as it turns towards us. Of course, he has a full upper lip that you can shade as you like. I try to keep it distinct from the shadow of the line of the mouth, and a reflected light on the top lip can be good here too. For the bottom lip, it's always nice to give is some shine with a hard-edge highlight. For the cupid's bow, I try to leave a light between the upper lip and the shadow in the cupid's bow. For some reason I drew the shadow backwards here, but I think it looks fine.

7/ears: I started to shade it, and then I remembered that he has ears. There's a simplified way I draw ears that I like. It's not entirely accurate, because the two shadows at the top are actually usually connected, but I find it a bit distracting that way sometimes, so this is more subtle I guess. In profile, I don't really have a method of drawing it, I just draw whatever the reference gives me or bs it with a similar version of this, depending.

8/hair: My method for drawing his hair is 1) suffer 2) hope and pray. I like to leave a rim light-type deal between the contour/outliine of the hair and the rest of the hair, I feel like it helps define it a bit more. The direction of his hair, and thus the direction of my lines is something like this.

9. And then I more or less just shaded. When shading, it's always good to follow the direction of the plane, and I also alternatively like to shade in the direction that the light is falling to reinforce that gesture, but when I shade a face, I try to shade in the opposite direction of where wrinkles would go, if that makes sense, mostly up and down I guess. This is of course on a case by case basis, like a lot of times, I'll do the forehead horizontally anyway, but it's especially touchy around where the laugh lines of the mouth would be and the neck. And on soft plane changes (and softish hard plane changes), I often shade at a different angle to the main shadow. Shading direction can also delineate different areas of similar tones, like I did with the jacket and the side of the nose. I like to give Dean his eyelash shadow, because he deserves it. I also drew in the eyes, of course. I think I actually tend to shade them backwards, and the light would fall in the opposite direction, so when lit from the right, the right side would be darker, but I just don't draw it that way idk maybe I should.

And there he is, that's our guy!

Normally when I'm drawing, I'm definitely a bit more all over the place, and don't necessarily do things in perfect order. And it's good to move around. I'm probably not going to be shading things before noting where all the features are going to land, but I often am shading something before I've drawn everything. Or end up drawing one eye and then maybe do part of the other and then move to do part of the nose and then sketch in an ear and then maybe notice something's off somewhere and adjust that, etc. Just go with it, have fun, he's got a fun face to draw! 💗

[sickofthis666]

Man, I miss when tumblr wasn’t the "t4t" website. Now we only got girld*ck jokes and trans rights are the only social issue that's worth mentionning, apparently. It's obvious if only by seeing the amount of posts, pinned posts, and bios with the mention "terfs/transphobes dni".

As an afterthought, some may add racists, ableists and/or homophobics to their little list. Sexism doesn't even appear.

Reading users bios, it's like everyone on this website is trans now - see also, reblogs of people's own post years later with the mention "im a girl now :3" - even though statistically, they're... what? 2% of the population?

Meanwhile somehow half of said population doesn't deserve to fight for their rights. BLM vanished but fear not, TLM is there. Online feminism peaked in 2016 with "the future is female" and #MeToo ended with a lot of calling out by victims but very little consequences for the abusers.

Your brain won't explode if you campaign for more than one cause at a time, I promise.

Old sexism was "your biology determines your behavior". New sexism is "your behavior determines your biology". Same result. Same harmful stereotypes. Some things are meant to harm, no matter how much you want to reclaim them or have fun sounding quirky by using insults/politically incorrect language. No, calling yourself a slut doesn't change from a man calling you that, because the very definition of that word is harmful. An insult doesn't stop being an insult because you enjoy it or because you decided to interpret it in a way that fits you, like religious leaders interprets scripture in a way that fits their interest.

We were supposed to get rid of the idea that women enjoying sex like men do is shameful, bad, disgusting, unnatural. We were supposed to make it neutral, just the way men get to have it, but nooo, you guys wanted to be quirky, rules breakers, special. Somehow you're convinced that doing the complete opposite of what society commonly deems acceptable automatically makes you cool, Good, right, and better than the others. It doesn't! It's not a dichotomy! Same thing with whore. Calling a man that moves his hands when he talks or has a high pitch or exaggerated manners "effeminate" makes you a misogynist and a homophobe, actually.

P*rn doesn't automatically becomes Good and healthy just because society frowns down upon it. Degrading women became a trend. God forbids you kinkshame, but somehow mocking vanilla sex is great, actually. Obviously vanilla must be Bad since it's the opposite of porn, and we all decided at some point that porn was Good. Can’t find f/m erotica on this website that doesn't include at least One sentence specifying how the woman is degraded/seen like a toy/less than human by the man. It's Very Important.

The solution to "women shouldn't have to wear make up to be considered seriously/human" wasn’t "women like their cage actually", it was destroying the cage or put the men in it with us. Cause that is the definition of gender equality. Treating men and women the same regardless of gender.

Hijab will never be feminist as long as men don't wear it too. It's the difference of treatment, simply because of gender, that is sexism/misogyny. The intention of the wearer doesn't matter - the result does.

"Taking your husband's last name isn’t sexist because *I* would be honored to do it" affirmed a woman to me - Since when does sexism mean "mentality/behavior/outfit/etc that all women as a mindhive dislike"? Oh wait - it doesnt - never did; it means difference of treatment between genders, overwhelmingly balanced in favor of men. The day men don't see taking your wife's last name as emasculating, degrading, insulting, belittling, diminishing, disgracing, shameful; the day they take their wife's last name spontaneously, almost systematically, the way women do; the day merely suggesting the idea to them isn’t preposterous;

the day women don't see taking your husband's name, as honorable, normal, the bare minimum, the day women stop taking their husband's name almost systematically, because it's an evidence in their eyes; the day women are not pushed to take their husband's name because it makes administration's work easier, because it's the only way for them to prove that they're related to their children - when i was a little kid, school staff once refused to let me leave with my mom at the end of the day simply because, since she hadn't taken my father's name, obviously she couldnt possibly be my legitimate mother; that "incident" lead to her renounciating her own name; before that, she hadn't entertained the thought; - the day french civil service stops differentiating between Nom d'épouse (wife name) and Nom de jeune fille (maiden name), making marriage an event so decisive in a woman's life that it changes her status; whereas men are born, live and die with only one name, their own, and no one else's.

That day only, we'll be able to affirm that this part of society/culture/custom is not sexist anymore.

In favor of men, not because I hate men, or because women need someone to blame, or because men are inherently evil, but in favor of men because men have been ruling society for thousands of years. Our kings are men. Our presidents are men. Our Prime Ministers are men. Our religious leaders are men. Our CEOs are men. Billionaires are men. The most powerful and/or rich on this earth are men. And people in power, in a logical conclusion, decides measures that will favor themselves over others.

Feminity isn’t real. Masculinity isn’t real. Just like the economy, or borders, it's something humans made up. And yet it would never cross your mind to romanticize or fantasize about those concepts.

Boomers' sexism says "if you're a woman, you must act feminine." Gen Z's sexism says "If you're feminine, you must be a woman."

Feminism says "You'll always be a woman no matter what - but so what? You can do whatever you want."

This website is full of selfrighteous, full of themselves assholes who pretends to be Better than everyone else because they're sooo tolerent, sooo inclusive, they condemn nazis and terfs - but mostly terfs. Terfs never commited murders, contrary to neonazis/white supremacists/incels, but that is but a detail my friend - vigorously, they boycott JKR absolutely - but not their favorite rapist male artists/authors/actors/singers -, they have the moral High Ground. Yet the second they smell an Enemy, someone who doesn't adopt 100% of their causes, verbatim, no holds barred! Anything goes! Death threats, rape threats, stalking, doxxing, going after family members... calling The Other, the Villain - of course they're the villain, since I am the Good Guy and they're against Me! - names, a loser, ugly, fat, a virgin, who can’t get laid/p*ssy. Yes I said Asexuals were a part of the community, what does this have to do with anything? Death and rape threats are okay if they come from My mouth!

[demigod-shenanigans]

Little sneak peek for my Leo Valdez/Valgrace Orpheus Eurydice fic (there’s 40k of this fic now and I’m not even sure it’s halfway done, someone save me):

It would have been kinder, maybe, if Leo had dreamed up some shitty visions promising violent death and/or the end of the world. That would have been business as usual.

Instead, he dreamed of their time on the Argo II—of one of those early nights when the different groups were still getting to know each other, having a brief moment to breathe between their ridiculous tasks and saving the world.

It had seemed reasonable to catch each other up on what had happened on their end. Percy, Hazel and Frank had talked about rescuing Thanatos, and Piper, Jason and Leo had told them what had happened with Hera in turn.

This would have been a boring intel conversation at best, seeing as Leo had been there for all of their part, but they’d grabbed snacks and sat on cushions on the floor and made it a whole bonding activity. Jason had been wedged between Piper and Leo, and they’d taken turns storytelling.

And Jason had bragged. So much. But he hadn’t even had the decency to brag about himself like a normal human being.

Instead, he’d talked about how capable Piper and Leo had been, somehow managing to make Leo sound like the coolest person he’d ever met. Which was ridiculous, considering he’d met everyone else on their team.

And sure, Leo made it sound like he thought he was amazing all the time, but he was exaggerating, which everyone, himself included, knew.

Jason didn’t seem like he’d gotten the memo, though. He had one arm wrapped around Leo the whole evening, and he got all starry-eyed when he talked.

“Leo took on three Cyclopes by himself. Three!”

“Dude, stop!” Leo had laughed, shaking his head. “I know I’m incredible and you’re blessed to be friends with me and stuff, but you weren’t even conscious for that part.”

“Still happened, though.” Jason had beamed at him. “You’re amazing, dude. I would have died about fifteen times on that mission if it hadn’t been for you. You guys should’ve seen him.”

It would have been easier if Leo had thought Jason was just trying to talk him up to the others to make them more willing to trust him after how badly he’d messed up in New Rome, but Jason wasn’t the type. He’d looked like he honestly believed every single word he was saying.

So, of course, Leo had refused to seriously deal with any of the things that made him feel.

“Sorry, Pipes, but I’m pretty sure your boyfriend is in love with me. It’s the fire powers, I’m afraid. I’m just too hot to resist,” Leo had joked instead, and Piper had untangled herself from Jason’s other side to throw Doritos at Leo, and everything had been right in the universe.

Waking up from that, blearily blinking himself awake in the car full of moving boxes and remembering… that was a worse punch in the gut than waking up from most nightmares had been.

[just-a-regular-fan]

I'm catching up with Mom Piece and Mama Drawk said something that went over my head when I was watching anime and rereading manga.

Miss Goldenweek isn't a devil fruit user.

Do normal people even remember her?

That kid from Baroque Works who's bending the reality to her will. AND NOW I'M LEARNING SHE'S NOT A DEVIL FRUIT USER? WHAT.

And I'm not exaggerating.

The title of the first cover story is "Colors Trap 'Rainbow of Dreams' Transform Into Whatever You Imagine!" and she managed to somehow transform Croc and Mr.1 even though they were quite away.

But based on the recent chapters I'm starting to think she might be like Bonney, maybe her power is also a result of human experimentation performed by WG. We don't know exactly wht's a difference between powers given by fruits and human experimentation. Maybe artificial devil fruti power allows user to swim, or to eat a real devil fruit as well and have more than one power.

But here's another thing.

Both her and Bonney's powers seem to rely on imagination a lot and I'm starting to think that maybe both of those powers were created in attempt to recreate Nika's fruit. Because if they could recreate it and just provide this power to their strongest soldiers, nobody could ever stand up to them.

[maxwapan]

☆彡The sky longs to see the sun go down

Title from Fly by Bloodwitch

Summary: It’s a hot day today, but not hot enough to get a handjob from a certain best friend!

Notes: Is a crack fic supposed to be written this seriously. Forgive for some of the rambling and rushed writing it’s 4AM and I am running on sparkling water and belvita snacks. This was just for funsies ▼・ᴥ・▼

Cw: Male/Male, reader has cock and balls, some noncon mention, humiliation mention, sexuality denial, misoginy in one sentence, mentions of Ashley and Ada, OOC cause Leon’s a perv, mentions of fisting? Lol

Wc: 1,872

You tug at the hem of your sweater self-consciously, the combination of sweat and oil making you shudder. It’s gross; makes you feel like you spent hours stuck in a locked car without the windows down or proper air conditioning. Kind of like a dog or a baby, except it must be worse for them. It’s not like you’re actually trapped somewhere after all— not permanently. It’s just that your room’s AC is broken, and you lack the balls to call up a repairman due to fear of judgement.

What? It’s a scary thing. What if with one good look they take off running for the hills? It’s a possibility. One in a million, but still a possibility. Still, it’s so damn hot in here that you consider going through with it. Anything is better than sitting in your personal hell— even calling someone through the phone. Maybe if you still lived with your dad, he could have helped. Mom would surely say “do it yourself” and leave you hanging. It’s not like she knows anything about that stuff anyways, she’s a woman.

Sitting up with a groan, you pass a hand over the bed sheets you were just laying on, cringing when moisture collects on your skin. It’s even worse when you look back and see the massive patch of sweat in the shape of your body on the bed. It’s like a crime scene. A nasty, sweaty crime scene. Enough is enough. You really can’t take much more of this. You feel like you’re dying, and no it’s not an exaggeration. This is why you prefer winter over summer. Sure, it gets cold, but honestly you’d rather freeze than melt into a puddle of goo.

First your sweater goes, then your shirt, then your pants, then your socks and shoes. You strip it all until you’re standing completely naked in the middle of your room. It’s not like your roommate is here. Well, he is, but he’s showering. Asshole got to the bathroom first before you could. The water has been running for at least thirty minutes now, and it bothers you more than you’d like to admit. Whatever though, right? Leon is Leon. He’s a greedy bastard, no matter how much he denies it. It’s like, just because you’re friends doesn’t mean you get to be pushed around and shit.

Just ‘cause it gets your heart fluttering and your blood flowing to places that are better left unnamed doesn’t mean you like it. (read: yes it does).

Somehow, it’s only getting hotter in here now. Getting somewhat desperate, you walk over to open the window beside your bed with a huff, having to crawl over the mattress to do so— which leaves you in a rather suggestive position. One that, due to your focus on the heat, catches Leon’s attention as soon as he walks in. Maybe you’d have focused more on the sound of the shower turning off if you weren’t so damn busy. Anyways, Leon isn’t so dignified either. He wears nothing but a thin towel around his waist, skin glistening with water droplets and moisturizing lotion. It’s not a gay thing, he promises that. Can’t men look good too?

The first thing his eyes land on is the way your ass juts out, back slightly curved as you used whatever strength you could from your upper body to slide the window up. Although he’s never particularly been interested in men, you’re his best friend. That’s different. He’s been friends with you since like… childhood. That’s enough time to make him forget about the junk between your legs. Though, it’s pretty hard to do that now when he’s staring straight at it. At least your cock is smaller than his. He’s just been standing there staring like a weirdo with nothing better to do. He gets an idea when his cock starts to kick, blood rushing to the thick length, making it stand tall at attention. He’s always wanted to try anal.

You finally get that window open after some grunting and huffing, hoping the small draft of fresh air would be enough to cool you down. With a sigh of relief, you turn only to come face-to-face with your best friend. Leon watches with a subtle smirk as you yelp and scramble to shield your bare body with the blanket left draped over the bed. It’s almost pitiful. And somewhat offensive? You’ve been friends for years, but you can’t even stand being naked around him? Some friend you are.

He snatches the blanket away with a quick hand, the movement making the towel around his waist fall and bunch around his legs. Now they’re both naked. “What?” He huffs, “Never seen a guy’s junk before?”

He knows that’s not true. You know that too. You’ve seen a guy’s junk before. Just not your best friend’s. Confused and embarrassed, you still try to cover yourself up with your hands, cupping them over your crotch. “What’s wrong with you?” You glare, shooting Leon a scowl. “You couldn’t have knocked or something?” You try not to stare, you really try. But it’s staring right at you. His dick. Uncircumcised and honestly a decent length. It’s not like it’s monstrously big or something, that’s ridiculous. Not that you’d mind if it was. Death by huge cock would be a nice way to go.

Leon rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s acting so damn nonchalant, as if his dick isn’t twitching against his tummy, begging for attention. “Really? I could have sworn this was my place too.” He doesn’t hide his staring, not at all. You can see as clear as day that his eyes are looking directly at your crotch, examining closely. It’s a stare that could almost come across as judgmental, and that makes your cheeks heat up with humiliation. Sheepishly, you shut your thighs, dipping your chin so you could peer up at Leon through your lashes.

“Yeah, well…” You trail off, unsure of what to say at this point.

“You know,” Leon butts in before you could even finish your train of thought, “you have a nice cock.”

“Huh?” You stammer, mouth dumbly shaping an ‘O’ out of shock. Did he really just say that? Were your ears deceiving you? Well, obviously not, since he repeats himself without a care in the world.

“I said you have a really nice cock.” Leon nods, as if he were some sort of penis reader or something. It kind of reminds you of those competitions they would hold at fairs. What pig is bigger? Well, in this case, which cock is nicer? Now vote! Honestly, it brings you an odd sense of warmth knowing your best friend would vote for you in that case. Enough about cock comparison and voting though, you’re snapped out of your thoughts when you feel warm hands grab onto each of your thighs. What the fuck is he doing now? You don’t think your best friend would touch you without your explicit approval (not that you’d mind), but he’s getting oddly touchy.

“You know,” Leon clears his throat awkwardly, struggling with social ineptitude just as much as you were. “I hear guys touch their friends sometimes… just for fun…” As he speaks, his hands gently push yours away from your crotch, the thick pad of his thumb running a slow line towards your penis. Immediately, your heart jumps so high you swear you feel it in your throat. You wouldn’t say no to this. Not really. It’s a tricky situation, but who wouldn’t want their dick rubbed by their bestie? Especially one known for his good-looks. A few seconds of thumbing at the base, and he finally wraps a hand around your length, squeezing lightly.

“Woah!” You gasp, breathing coming out hitched and ragged. It feels good, so good. The combination of adrenaline and pleasure might be too much. Honestly, you’re way more worried about what you’re saying. What kind of imbecile says ‘woah!’ while getting a handjob by their best friend? You, that’s who. Judging by the slightly amused look on Leon’s face, he thinks you’re an idiot. But you’re the idiot he’s jacking off, so who’s really the embarrassing one here? All you can hear is the slow schlick schlick schlick of his fist pumping your meat, the noise wet and sticky due to the amount of precum you had produced in a short amount of time.

Yeah, you’re not lasting at all. Who fucking cares? You’re getting your dick beat! By your best friend!

You groan into the palm of your hand, pathetic moans and whimpers escaping you within every second. Man, you’d be a good pornstar. Maybe you should consider it; college debt would be paid off much easier. Hips tilting forward for more, you watch intently, taking in every detail. Leon’s no different, he’s just as enthralled. Dare he say he’s finally getting what he’d dreamed of. Assuming dreaming about jacking your friend was normal. Maybe he’d try sticking this same hand up your ass later. He dreamt about that too at some point. Maybe he just likes you or something. That thought is weirder to him than all the other ones though.

His arm is starting to get tired, but he doesn’t slow down or anything, he just picks up pace. Fisting your cock is just as straining as when he lifts weights at the gym, and he considers doing this instead of working out every weekend. Easier to do and cheaper. Sure, he’s got all the money he could possibly need, but $30 for a gym membership that he has to pay for monthly is too much, even for him. He tightens his grip a little, squeezing rhythmically once he feels your cock starting to twitch and jump, signaling oncoming orgasm.

“Ah! Fuck! There… there!” You practically whine, back arching and hips bucking weakly, the muscles in your belly tightening and relaxing as wave after wave of pure, unbridled ecstasy washed over you. Who knew a handjob could feel this good? From someone else, that is. The ones you give yourself don’t match up. Leon obliges, continuing with his set pace and watching as thick spurts of cum splashed onto his hand, the enthusiastic bursts soon turning into lazy, creamy drools down the slit of your cock. He thought it’d be kind of gross to get someone else’s cum on him like this, but seeing how dazed and disoriented you looked made him smile, and that’s what counts. It’s not all that bad.

Curious, he brought his cum-coated hand up to his face, tongue lolling out to lap up one swipe of the mess. It smells musky, and tastes… peculiar. Not bad, so that means your diet is good at least. Just kind of salty and sticky, if sticky were a taste. There’s no other way to describe it really. He had remembered the taste of Ada’s cum and Ashley’s from when he had eaten them out before when they were dating (separately), but theirs also had variety. Anyways, instead of thinking like some cum connoisseur, he waits for you to finish panting and whimpering like some overheated dog before speaking.

“So, my turn?”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Regarding the great seven, did they win in Twisted Wonderland? Like, for example, did Jafar became sultan and the current royal family of the Scalding Sands are his descendants? Did Aladdin die because of him?

No, that's (largely) not the case! Twisted Wonderland is simply a world in which the characters we know of irl as villains that did heinous stuff are just viewed in Twisted Wonderland as historical figures who contributed greatly to society. It's no different than how we may study our own historical figures and their accomplishments in social studies/history class.

While we do hear stories about the Great Seven and their powers, we rarely hear stories which would imply they somehow "won" in the end as opposed to the heroes. For example, Jasmine and Aladdin are implied to still very much be in love, as Jamil tells the tale of a street rat that married a princess. (If Jafar had "won", wouldn't he have been the one to marry the princess?) However, there ALSO exists a tale concurrent to that one in which we're told the Sorcerer of the Sands revealed that someone had lied about their social standing to trick a princess. There are no indications that these two stories are one and the same, so in the world of TWST it seems they're two separate instances that both draw inspiration from Aladdin. There are also no indications (ever) of the Disney heroes dying because of the Great Seven. In fact, it seems like many of them still got their original happy endings. (ADDENDUM: as a commenter pointed out, it’s also possible that multiple tales or versions of the tale came from the same initial story, something which happens irl as well.) Similarly, we know that the mermaid princess married a human prince, thus alleviating tensions between merfolk and humans with their union. This would not have been possible if Ursula had "won", as that would mean that Ariel would have reverted back to being a mermaid (or that little squishy thing Ursula has a garden of) and would "belong" to the Sea Witch forever. Ariel wouldn't have been able to stay on land and marry Eric in that state. Furthermore, Ursula may have gone on to become Queen of the Seas if Triton still intervened to save his daughter... but then why is Triton still honored as King of the Seas in the Atlantica Memorial Museum in book 3?

There are a few instances I can think of which would imply the villain "won", the main one being that Scar ruled the Pridelands as a wise and benevolent king (which is not true of The Lion King movie). I don't consider this Scar "winning", but more like... a twisted or exaggerated retelling of the actual event. For the villain to "win", that would also imply the heroes are gone or in a position to not stop them, right? Yet there are zero mentions of Mufasa or Simba being out of the picture, or even of Scar banishing family members that opposed his rule.

This all points to there being an alternate telling of history in TWST; it seems that the "evil" deeds of the Great Seven were censored and/or retold in such a way to paint them in a beneficial light, since the deeds of the traditional heroes also exist and are also considered true in Twisted Wonderland's history. (For example, Scar letting the hyenas into the Pridelands is reframed as a good thing, since he promoted the integration of a previously marginalized group into the country; Ursula is actually believed to have "mended all her ways" rather than it being a lie to deceive others.) Lilia even specifically mentions that it's possible to "change" history just by telling it a certain way.

On a related note, it seems that this year's birthday series (Platinum Jacket) will delve more into TWST's history and how the NRC boys feel or think about various classic Disney characters. I'm really looking forward to seeing how those expand the lore~

[writeforfandoms]

A Lonely Place - 3

Find my Soap masterlist

The last part of this fic, and my last entry for Soap It Up hosted by the amazing @glitterypirateduck

Let's see if you guys can find which prompt I used this chapter.

Discoveries are made, scarves are knit, and somehow things work out.

Warnings: Swearing, Feels, seriously more Feels, bit of anxiety, nameless characters, a familiar face shows up (if you read Gaz's zombie au fic).

Word count: 2.1k

Days passed easily with them - you helped out in the kitchen, learned how to chop firewood, and met several other members of the little community. 

It was very different from anything you'd experienced before. It really was a community - everybody knew everyone else. It was common to see at least one of the four protectors out and about. 

But you saw the most of Soap. Johnny, he offered, after a few weeks. He was funny, and kind of sweet, and very competent. 

He even showed you how to use the knife to protect yourself. 

It wasn't long until you were missing him when he was gone. Until you debated inviting yourself over to the house. 

But you always talked yourself out of it. 

The weather turned colder, making you glad for the heavy coat you'd picked up, and for the sweater you were finally almost done knitting. 

Somehow (you suspected the MacTavishes), word got out that you could knit. The first request came from a woman a little older than you with two children. 

“Could ye make scarves?” She asked, reaching out without looking to grab the younger of her two children. “Something warm.” 

You shrugged, absently scratching the back of your neck. “Yeah, should be able to,” you agreed, looking between the two. “I've got enough yarn.” 

She grinned at you. “How long?”

You shrugged. “How soon do you need them? I can have them ready in a week, if you're in a rush.” 

“Perfect. What do ye want in return?”

That stumped you, and you shrugged again. “Not sure, really.” 

She harrumphed but nodded. “Ah'll bring ye somethin’ good,” she promised before she strode away, little ones in tow, leaving you blinking after her. 

Well. Guess you'd better get to work on those scarves. 

You pulled out all your remaining yarn, frowning down at the spread on your bed. You already had the yarn set aside to finish your sweater, thankfully. Which left you with a few skeins. Not a huge selection, but you'd make it work.

At least it all felt like wool, rather than synthetics. 

“Runnin’ out?”

You jumped at the question, not having heard Mrs. MacTavish coming. “Oh, uh, yeah. I suppose so.” You shrugged. 

“Hmm.” She leaned a bit to one side to look around you and clucked disapprovingly. But she was bustling off before you could ask, muttering to herself too fast for you to parse what she was saying. 

Leaving you bewildered, blinking after her. 

Then you shrugged and picked out one of the remaining skeins. Fortunately it had already been wound into a ball, so you didn't have to worry about that. 

Without any pattern books or your usual online resources, it would be pretty plain, but it would be a warm scarf at least. 

It was only two days later that Johnny and Gaz stopped by the house. You'd finished your chores already and had settled comfortably on the couch to try and finish up the first scarf. The door opening caught your attention, and you looked over just as the two tromped inside. 

“There ye are!” Johnny hopped over the back of the couch to drop down near you (though not on top of your yarn, thankfully). “Doin’ alright?” 

“Same as two days ago,” you agreed with a little laugh, shaking your head. “Which is when you last saw me.” 

Johnny pouted, exaggerated and over the top. “Ah cannae even check on my favorite knitter?” 

“I'm the only knitter,” you pointed out dryly, though you were trying to hide your amusement. 

“Tha's beside the point, bonnie.” Johnny grinned at you, reaching over to tug playfully at the end of the scarf. “And what's this, then?” 

“A scarf for one of the kids,” you answered, swatting at his hand but not trying very hard to hit him. “One of the moms asked for her two, so I guess I'm taking commissions now.” 

“Brilliant idea.” He sat up straighter, eyes bright. “Be a big help, too.” 

You snorted. “For these two kids, sure. I'll have enough yarn after that to maybe make a few hats, but that's it.”

He blinked, just once, and then nodded. “Ah see,” he murmured, something calculating in his gaze. “Good thing she asked first then, aye?” 

“I suppose,” you said slowly, eyeing him. You weren't sure you liked that look. “What brought you over, by the way?” 

“Oh, that.” He reclined again, arms spread along the back of the couch. “We'll be goin’ on a supply run. Wanted ta see if there's anything ye need.” 

You shook your head. “No, I've got things, I'm fine.” 

“Ye sure? We find all kinds ‘a things,” he wheedled, leaning a little closer to you. 

You just shrugged, because you couldn't think of anything you needed, except yarn. And that was a long shot. Better to ask for nothing, so you wouldn't be disappointed. “I'm okay.” 

Johnny looked like he wanted to argue more with you, but the back door opened and the other three came in. So he simply sighed through his nose and stood, offering you a hand up. 

Dinner was lively with the two additional people. It helped that Gaz and Johnny played off each other beautifully, keeping the entire table entertained. 

After dinner, Johnny pulled you out front with him while Gaz was still chatting with his parents. 

“Gotta be somethin’ you want,” Johnny wheedled, still holding your hand from when he'd pulled you out the door. You didn't mind, heart fluttering at the gentle press of his thumb against the back of your hand. 

Your lips twisted and you looked down at your linked hands. “It doesn't matter what I want.” 

“Course it does.” Johnny leaned closer, tugging your hand gently to pull you in closer. “Anythin’ ye want, promise ah'll find it for ye.” 

Your lips parted at the sincerity in those blue eyes, mouth going dry at the promise. 

But you didn't have a chance to respond. Gaz stepped out the door and nodded to you. 

That was enough for you to smile and pull back, shielding yourself again. “Stay safe,” you said instead of giving him anything else. “Come back bite-free or I'll be very upset.” 

Far from being deterred, Johnny's head tipped, gaze laser-focused on you. “That what ye want?” He asked softly but no less intense. 

“Yes.” You met his gaze and didn't back down this time, briefly squeezing his hand. 

He nodded decisively, a brilliant smile breaking like sunlight across his face. “See ye in a few days,” he promised. He darted forward to press a kiss to your cheek, warm and fleeting, before he walked away. Gaz grinned at you, eyes warm, before he jogged after Johnny. 

You pressed a hand to your cheek and tried to deny the warmth blossoming in your chest. 

It didn't work.

You spent the next five days thinking about him in between your work. Chopping wood? You wondered where Johnny was, how far they'd traveled. Knitting? You hoped they were staying safe and avoiding the infected as much as possible. 

You couldn't deny that you wanted him to come back safely. You wanted to see him. 

Even if you couldn't yet admit to yourself why.

The fifth night, someone new came over for dinner. She introduced herself as Kyle's partner. (It took you an embarrassingly long time to realize she meant Gaz.) 

The best part was that she brought fresh bread and cookies with her. The cookies were the best you'd tasted, and you told her as much. 

You walked her outside, shivering briefly at the chill in the air. 

“They're fine, you know.” 

“Hmm?” You blinked at her, half-turning to her. 

“I worried the first few times they went out, too.” Her smile was soft and a little embarrassed. “I still worry, honestly. But they take care of each other.”  

You nodded slowly, though you eyed her curiously. “Why are you telling me this?” 

She rolled her eyes at you. “Oh, come on. We both know you're worrying about Johnny.”

“I'm not–! I mean, not that much.” You floundered for a moment, looking away even as your heart stuttered in your chest. 

She clucked her tongue. “Honestly, you're not really fooling anyone,” she chided gently. “You care for him, we can see that much. And he's a good man, he deserves someone to fuss over him.” 

You huffed. “He's sweet,” you muttered, still looking away. “And he's a good friend.” 

She laughed, stepping forward and patting your shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that,” she said with a cheeky grin and a wink. “Get back inside before you freeze. I'll see you soon.” 

“Stay warm,” you replied, stuffing your hands in your pockets and watching her take the first few steps away. Only when you saw her flashlight beam moving steadily away did you go back inside. 

You tossed and turned all night, unable to stop thinking about your conversation with her. Were you really so transparent about your feelings? Your… regard?

Just thinking that made you feel too much like a Victorian novelist. You snorted and rolled over to your other side. 

Clearly, you were not as subtle as you thought. You smothered your groan in your pillow. It was fine. It would be fine. 

It had to be fine. 

You delivered the two completed scarves by midday the next day, taking more fresh bread back with you, with the promise of some kind of sausage to come. 

Idly, you kicked a rock down the dirt road, debating what else you could do. You could make a few more hats - probably one each for the MacTavishes, to make sure they stayed warm enough. Beyond that? You'd have to wait and see. 

“Bonnie!” The cheerful call yanked you from your thoughts, and you blinked a few times as your gaze focused on Johnny. Hole and hale and safe, standing in the doorway. He positively beamed at you as he jogged the distance to you. 

“You're back.” You blinked at him once more, your brain still rebooting a little, even as your heart fluttered and swooped. 

“Aye, safe n’ sound, as promised.” He stopped in front of you, taking one of your hands in his. “Are ye busy?”

“Right now? No.”

“Good.” Johnny wasted no time in pulling you along with him, ignoring your little yelp. You gave in, laughing a little, and let him tug you back to the other house. He chattered the entire walk, telling you about where they'd been, some of the things they'd seen. It was comforting, having him near, holding your hand, talking your ear off. 

You had a brief glimpse of the others in the kitchen, mugs on the table, supplies scattered around in various stages of packing or unpacking. But Johnny didn't give you time to do more than wave with your free hand before he was tugging you up the stairs. 

“Johnny,” you half-protested, laughing a little. “What are you doing?”

“Ye'll see.” He let go of you only to put a hand in front of you. “Closer yer eyes.”

“What?” You blinked at him, startled. 

“Eyes closed.” He wiggled his fingers at your face height. 

With a huff, you gave in, closing your eyes. The door clicked as it opened, and for a moment you stood with no indication of what was going on. 

“Gonna guide ye forward,” Johnny murmured just before one big hand landed on your shoulder, the other taking your hand again. You moved cautiously, hand holding tight to his, uncertain but willing to trust him. But he guided you true - you didn't so much as bump into anything. 

“Okay,” he murmured, keeping hold of your hand. “Open yer eyes.” 

You opened your eyes and gasped. The entire bed was covered in yarn. Skeins, balls, balled remnants, in all colors and sizes. It was more yarn than you'd seen in ages. “This is… incredible.”

“Ah found more, but Price wouldnae let me fill the car with yarn.” Johnny shrugged when you looked at him, his cheeks pink, even as he continued talking. “But is close enough we could get the rest another time, aye?” 

You stared at the yarn for a moment longer, and then turned your gaze to Johnny. He'd brought all of this back. For you. Just for you. 

You tugged your hand free, but only so you could cup his cheeks, cutting off his nervous rambling. You kissed him. 

Johnny made a noise, something startled that you thought of as a squeak. And then he was kissing you back, eager hands cupping the back of your head and your back, pulling you in closer. 

When the two of you parted, neither of you went far, both of your lips shiny.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him, fingers scratching through the longer hairs at the back of his head. “For all of this.” 

Johnny just smiled, bright and besotted and incandescently happy, and kissed you again.

[mika-meowz]

Lodgersona Masterpost

That's right, you all (one person so far) indulged me, now you gotta deal with me

So, right off the bat, this thing doesn't have a name. Nor can I seem to find their reference? But I have drawings. So stay tuned to see those

I haven't actually figured out how to squirm them into the story by any means so haha. WHOOPS

But I can tell you the ideas so far

I wanted their role to sort of be something in between Jasper and Rachel? Basically being a "ends up being seen as a protoge for both Jekyll and Hyde for different reasons"

While initially a little too innocent-seeming for Hyde's trouble-making, they eventually find a much-needed freedom if they somehow convince him to bring them along

On the other hand, they like Jekyll, but they find his way of speaking to be *too* rehearsed, and eventually can't tell if he's just Like That or if he's keeping them at arms length

I like to think they'd get closer to him by convincing him to be a bit more laid back (when possible) through a very gutting sequence where he sees them starting to mirror him and thinks he's made a good influence on them,

But through conversations with Hyde, they mention that while they do look up to him, they're actually just copying Jekyll's more posh demeanor because they feel *ashamed* of being more rough around the edges when he's there

So Jekyll starts to ease up so that they see him as less of a cold-hearted-ever-shaming asshole (exaggeration, of course. Maybe Hyde's words)

Now. If that wasn't self-indulgent enough for ya, STRAP IN, because this is where even I get a little embarrassed sharing it because of how much it is

At some point or another, I like the idea of Hyde going into a sort of spiral?

Because instead of trying to stop his chaos for safety's sake, like Rachel, or trying to stop him for goodness' (and also safety's) sake, like Jekyll,

They don't try to stop him *at all.* Yet, still don't entirely agree with the amount of trouble he causes.

And something something, this contradiction perplexes him so strongly he starts to go into a sort of "if IM darkness eternal then what is that thing. Why is it so nice. How can it be so nice while not being evil with me. Is it an angel or some shit" and goes a little mad while Jekyll desperately pleads for him to take a breath

Alright art

I present to you One Drawing That's Actually The Book-Jekyll-And-Hyde Version of this OC, two instances of Hey I Discovered Scottish Dancing, and one of Oops Jekyll's A Dad (doubles as a style study of the comic via photobashing for the lineart/sketch, and a lot of shading layers)

Almost all of these were from when I was VERY early into the comic so if it looks silly.. pretend you don't see it

Also Hyde on his little streak of madness

[h0rr0rsaxo]

Hi!! Would you write either hcs or an x reader (whatever works best for you!) I'm kinda obsessed with the idea of Mammon (obey me) getting some kinda cat spell cast on him and suddenly not wanting to like snuggle with y/n because he doesn't want them to feel/hear him purring???

Pawsitively Purrrfect [ + Mammon ]

☆ Masterlist / Requests?

SYNOPSIS. Mammon basically gets cat-like traits after getting hit with a spell.

PAIRINGS. Mammon x GN! Reader

GENRE + WARNINGS. Lmao it's literally just fluff, no warnings needed.

WORD COUNT. 854

A/N. I chose hcs bc they're easier :P

☆ The day had started as any other with Mammon, the second-born demon of the House of Lamentation, always in some kind of trouble. This time, he had somehow managed to get a cat spell cast on him, and you noticed the subtle changes - the sharpness of his eyes, the gracefulness of his movements, and the strange avoidance of your usual snuggles.

☆ Throughout the day, you couldn't help but notice how Mammon seemed to be avoiding you even more. It started with subtle gestures - him ducking out of the room when you entered, staying occupied with his phone or any other excuse to keep his distance. It was strange because Mammon was usually the one clinging to you, claiming he was your first and demanding all your attention.

☆ The more he avoided you, the more you felt a pang of sadness deep within. Your heart longed for his familiar touch, the warmth of his embrace, and the playful banter that always filled the air when the two of you were together. It felt as if a vital part of your daily routine had been unexpectedly taken away.

☆ You couldn't help but wonder what had caused this sudden change in Mammon's behavior. Was it something you did or said? Did he no longer want to be close to you? These thoughts swirled in your mind, filling you with a mix of confusion and a slight tinge of self-doubt.

☆ As the day wore on, you became increasingly touch-starved, craving the comfort and reassurance that came from being in Mammon's arms. It was as if your body ached for his touch, a yearning that couldn't be easily ignored. Yet, every attempt to get close to him was met with his skilled evasion tactics.

☆ "Mammon," you call, watching him dart around the living room with a sudden agility that was both impressive and suspicious. "What are you doing?"

☆ It was both frustrating and amusing to witness Mammon's antics. You couldn't help but chuckle at his exaggerated efforts to maintain distance, as if you were some kind of contagious plague. But beneath the amusement, there was a longing, an ache to bridge the gap that had formed between the two of you.

His golden eyes flicker towards you, gleaming with an unusual mischievous light. Mammon was mischievous all the time, but this seemed a little different. "Nothin', Y/n," he replies, a little too quickly.

☆ The more he avoided you, the more determined you became to confront him. You knew that the only way to break through his barriers was to tackle him head-on, both literally and figuratively. You wanted to understand why he had been avoiding you, and more importantly, you craved the closeness and affection that had been absent all day.

☆ And so, when the opportunity presented itself, you seized it, pouncing on Mammon and pinning him down onto the couch. His surprised yelp and frantic attempts to escape only fueled your determination. You were not going to let him slip away this time. His cheeks dust with a red that you've seen plenty of times before, making your heart pound against your chest. "Y-Y/n!" he stammers, squirming under your grip, "What's gotten into ya?"

☆ Ignoring his protests, you place your hands on his face, pulling him closer. "Why have you been avoiding me, Mammon?" you question, your tone soft yet firm.

☆ His blush deepens, the redness spreading to the tips of his ears, accentuating the cat-like features now apparent on his face. "I ain't avoiding ya," he mumbles, unable to meet your gaze.

☆ As you pressed your hands against his flushed face, pulling him towards you, you couldn't ignore the slight flutter in your chest. The mixture of adrenaline, curiosity, and a deep yearning for his presence overwhelmed you. You needed answers, but more importantly, you needed to feel his warmth, to hear his heartbeat against your own. A soft, rhythmic sound fills the room, and you realize it's coming from Mammon. His purring. The realization makes you grin, "Are you... purring, Mammon?"

☆ His eyes widen in surprise, and he tries to push you away, but you hold him tighter. "No, I ain't... I ain't...," his voice trails off, obviously flustered.

☆ You chuckle, pulling him even closer. "Mammon, the Great Demon, avatar of greed, afraid of a little purring?" you tease, your fingers tracing his blush-filled cheeks. He groans, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, but his purring gets louder, resonating through his chest into yours. It's a sweet, soothing sound that makes you feel warm inside.

"It's not funny, Y/n," he grumbles, but his words are muffled against your skin. You laugh, ruffling his hair affectionately.

☆ "Oh, but it is, Mammon," you retort, "It's adorable." His purring becomes more pronounced at your words, and you can feel his embarrassment radiating off him. But beneath that, there's a sense of comfort, of contentment, that makes your heart flutter.

☆ "Ya think so?" he mumbles, his voice barely audible. You nod, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

☆ "Absolutely," you reply, your voice filled with sincerity. His blush seems to intensify, but he doesn't pull away, instead snuggling closer.