#but it also means there's no way to make distance from one person without distancing from my entire life

[silvermarley]

i know its a tad weird, but... do you think muzan would be ok with period sex? its technically free blood... and reader wont have cramps during it

You’re all good! I mean demon + free blood?? Sorry it’s super late 🙏🏻

Period Sex

Muzan x Reader

Warnings: blood obv, a bit rough?, cunnilingus, fem! body parts, minor degradation, established relationship, unprotected sex

WC: 2.1k

Demons have an unquenchable thirst for blood. They typically don’t care about their human victims, as they’re only a mere blood bank to them. The same is said about the infamous and overwhelmingly powerful king of all demons, Muzan Kibutsuji.

But, he has a unique situation that has taken hold of him for the past few days. You see, he’s not ignorant of the human body, but there’s something he didn’t know about. Mortal women bleed once a month, as their bodies ready themselves for eventual pregnancy.

Muzan’s situation is unique because of his lover. A human woman, one which he couldn’t kill. One that he found himself seeking out, and the person who makes his cold heart(s) beat. It was obvious that since he was a demon, he would seek out any blood he can get. You knew that. So when it was your time of the month, you would make up some excuse to be left alone for the duration of your period. That was your plan every month.

Eventually, the demon king saw the pattern in the times you would ask to be alone. It made his teeth clench just thinking about why that would be. You were a loyal partner, of course, but that fact didn’t come up in his mind when it would start to go over reasons as to why he had to go days, if not a week without you. Who would dare to impose on my relationship, he thought. You were his. He has the right to be with you everyday, so why? Why must you insist on taking.. vacations, as he called it, so often?

For the time away, you would suffer through your period. The cramps, bleeding, and aches.. all of it. Not only were you unsure of what Muzan would do if he knew about this, but you also didn’t want to bother him with your vulnerable and emotional side. In the end, he’s a man-eating demon. It had been long enough for you to understand that he wouldn’t dream of killing you, no matter how angry he felt. But just the thought of him knowing about your period was quite frightening.

Muzan isn’t a very patient man, unfortunately. He wanted to know why you kept leaving and distancing every time. Why you were keeping something from him.

You had your own room, and you didn’t really use it until the time came. You much preferred to spend your nights with him. But in this case, it wasn’t possible.

He knew where you went monthly, considering nothing in the infinity castle gets past him. And now, he was heading there in search for answers. As he got closer to the room, he caught the scent of blood. Your blood?

In a matter of seconds after his keen sense of smell caught that scent, he was sliding open the door to your room. You jumped upon seeing him, not know what to do now that he was here.

“Are you injured?” He asked after a pause. His eyes glowed at the smell, even in the dimly lit space.

His eyes scanned over your form, covered in a blanket and your face, showing many emotions. Confusion, fear, and above all pain. Not pain from any injury, like he was thinking. At your silence, he was about to seethe in anger at who would be brainless enough to lay a hand on you. Until you spoke up.

“No..” your voice was slightly shaky. You had no idea how he would react if you told him about your dilemma.

Heavy footsteps are heard as he walks over to you. “Then?” His arms cross skeptically. “What aren’t you telling me, Y/N?” Muzan’s voice was firm, yet you could tell this was his way of checking on you.

You sigh. This was inevitable. You couldn’t hide this for all eternity, anyways. “I’m not hurt.. I’m on my period.”

His eyebrows furrow curiously. Right.. he likely didn’t know that about you.

“Every month, I..” you calm yourself, only stopping your words to whince at the pain in your stomach. “..bleed. It’s something women go through.”

“Every month..? How come I smell your blood, but i have yet to see it?” He kneels by you to inspect your body. Most of which was still covered.

He wasn’t reacting badly so far, which came as a surprise. Turns out his restraint is much better than you thought. Now, it was just embarrassing to explain it.

“Because I bleed from down there..” you began to mumble, face heating up slightly at how you couldn’t bring yourself to say the actual thing you’re referring to.

His ruby colored eyes glowed once more, this time for a different reason. Before you could protest, he lifted the blanket from your body to see your bloodied lower region. He couldn’t stop the groan leaving his chest as the scent got more prominent. You noticed his grip on the blanket tightened.

“And you thought to hide this from me?” His gaze then returns to your face.

You nod hesitantly. “It’s just.. I didn’t know how you would react. And I didn’t want you to deal with it..”

“Deal with the blood?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Do you know who I am? What I am?” You felt a cold finger trail from your jaw to your collarbone.

“I-I know.. but the blood isn’t all of it. It also causes stomach cramps and mood swings.” You stutter, yet you felt little to no fear right now due to the look in his eyes. It wasn’t of murderous intent.

His hand trails down further to your stomach and he rests it there. “..Is it hurting now?” He questions, and when you nod again, he inquires more about it. He inhales. “It’s hard to resist the scent of your blood. Especially after hearing where it’s coming from..”

Warmth spread across your cheeks at the comment. You didn’t know where he was going with this.

“I think I know how to assist you with the pain.” This would be a sweet thing to hear, if it weren’t for the sinister smirk on his face.

He begins pushing the blanket completely off your body. After it was successfully moved to the side, he took in the view. He was getting hungrier by the minute. Drool fell from his lips a little at the sight. He needed to taste it. And he wasn’t one to play with his meals.

Muzan pulls down your shorts, tossing it aside to see the mess that is your panties. He groaned again, unable to stop himself from licking a stripe on your clothed core, tasting your sweet blood through the fabric. You gasped, feeling much more sensitive than normal, but also hot due to his boldness.

He rips your sad excuse for underwear and dove right into what he’s been craving ever since he smelled your sweet blood. He’s no stranger to pleasuring you with only his tongue. But god, this felt so good. So different. Like he was trying to devour you whole. Like he’s parched and the only thing that can quench it is the mess between your thighs.

The demon’s tongue moved languidly at first, to savor the taste of both your arousal and the tempting red liquid. But the muscle moved quicker with time, desperately needing to taste all of you. You writhed and grabbed onto the only thing keeping your mind in reality, his wild and now unkempt black locks.

Your needy tugs to his hair only made his movements more determined. The heat in your lower stomach was rising at a rapid pace not even you could keep up with. The area that was previously aching with pain was now flooding with pleasure. Muzan’s nails dug into your upper thighs as he feasted on everything you were giving him. The pain shouldn’t have felt so good, but with the drag of his demonic tongue, god it did.

Your orgasm hit you like a flash, as your arched into his head and stuttered his name loudly. The growl he let out was low and heavy. He licked up your mixed juices while you twitched and shook.

He then lifted himself from you. His pupils were blown wide and his lower face was messy. “Divine, just as I thought.” He murmurs, “Your essence is sweet, and mixed with your blood..” he takes in a breath, and trails off.

You caught your breath, which was knocked out of you for a moment. Before you had time to respond, he’s making his next move. You glanced down as he sat up, noticing his prominent erection in his dress pants. It made you wonder how it would feel inside you now that you were on your cycle. You were sensitive already, but this time it was enhanced surely.

His sharp teeth nearly shined as he grinned darkly at you. “Your blood is irresistible.. and I can’t wait to see such delectable essence on my cock.”

His grin widens a bit more at seeing the you bite your lip with replenished need. You two have been intimate many times before, but this felt like so much more. With this, he could have claim every part of you, in your weakest state. In your most vulnerable time. And that thought alone has been driving him wild since he tasted you.

You barely even noticed when he took off his pants and vest, leaving his formal shirt slightly unbuttoned as he was too desperate to be inside you. Having said that, you also failed to notice when he was now hovering over you and positioning himself at your entrance. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he carefully plunged in. There was a mutual groan shared as he pushes in, inch by inch.

The mix of slick and blood made it easier to stuff you full of his cock. When he bottomed out, he couldn’t resist biting your shoulder. You whined from both pain and pleasure, as he laps up more of your sweetness. The taste of it on his tongue caused him to begin thrusting. “Always such a good little human, hm?” He rasps.

You let out a strangled moan at the sheer power of his thrusts in an attempt at a response. Your mind couldn’t even think about the pain in your abdomen with how good he was making you feel. His head pulls back to watch your lewd expressions. It was always his favorite. Just seeing how much of a mess he can make of you gets him going.

Even as such an individual as mighty as Muzan, he still falls into the irresistible pleasure he gets from you. The feelings he once was unfamiliar with, came easily when he met you.

His nails dig into your hips this time as with each thrust he pulls you to him, only increasing how deep he hit. Your whines echoed off the walls of your room, mixing with the slaps of skin. A faint but audible set of groans and grunts can also be heard from the man above you. Only you could drag these uncontrollable noises from the king himself.

The demon threw his head back, gripping under your thighs to bring them to your chest. That served to make him go even deeper than you thought possible. Your body was trembling under him, and the feeling of getting close came creeping up on you. The tightening of your pussy made his noises turn into something more animalistic. “Make a beautiful mess on my cock. I know you want to.” He coos breathily, his alluring eyes staring at your face.

And you were more than happy to follow as he said. Body twitching and ecstasy taking over, you came hard. Your mind was effectively taken over by the intensity of it all. A deep growl came out of his mouth as you convulsed and nearly milked him for all he’s worth. He felt close, and quicker than normal. The circumstances played a big part in speeding up his gratification in indulging in you.

You could barely keep your eyes open as he relentlessly thrusted, overstimulation making you shake pathetically. He reveled in your form and the sensation. After a few more harsh thrusts, he gives a final one that fills you with his cum. “That’s it,” he moans huskily, “Take it all..”

When he spilled all he could into you, he pulled out and let his dick lay on your stomach. He looked down at the fluids connecting it to your messy cunt. A sight he could get used to.

Though, he’s no weak man by any means. It wasn’t long before his stamina allowed him to become hard again. A desire-filled smirk was plastered on his face. “You should know that I am far from done.”

As his lover, you definitely knew that. But as a human, you weren’t sure how far he would take it this time. The king wasn’t going to give you time to think about that, however.

——

[gayvampyr]

no one likes “proof or it didn’t happen” people but some of y’all will act like someone asking for literally any shred of evidence to support a claim means they’re evil and taking the other side or some shit and it’s stupid

[torchickentacos]

gonna punt ableists

[stromblessed]

Mizu, femininity, and fallen sparrows

In my last post about Mizu and Akemi, I feel like I came across as overly critical of Mizu given that Mizu is a woman who - in her own words - has to live as a man in order to go down the path of revenge.

If she is ever discovered to be female by the wrong person, she will not only be unable to complete her quest, but there's a good chance that she'll be arrested or killed.

So it makes complete sense for Mizu to distance herself as much as possible from any behavior that she feels like would make someone question her sex.

I felt so indignant toward Mizu on my first couple watchthroughs for this moment. Why couldn't Mizu bribe the woman and her child's way into the city too? If Mizu is presenting as a man, couldn't she claim to be the woman's escort?

However, this moment makes things pretty clear. Mizu knows all too well the plight of women in her society. She knows it so well that she cannot risk ever finding herself back in their position again. She helps in what little way she can - without drawing attention to herself.

Mizu is not a hero and she is not one to make of herself a martyr - she will not set herself on fire to keep others warm. There's room to argue that Mizu shouldn't prioritize her quest over people's lives, but given the collateral damage Mizu can live with in almost every episode of season 1, Mizu is simply not operating under that kind of morality at this point. ("You don't know what I've done to reach you," Mizu tells Fowler.)

And while I still feel like Mizu has an obvious and established blind spot when it comes to Akemi because of their differences in station, such that Mizu's judgment of Akemi and actions in episode 5 are the result of prejudice rather than the result of Mizu's caution, I also want to establish that Mizu is just as caged as Akemi is, despite her technically having more freedom while living as a man.

Mizu can hide her mixed race identity some of the time, and she can hide her sex almost all of the time, but being able to operate outside of her society's strict rules for women does not mean she cannot see their plight.

It does not mean she doesn't hurt for them.

Back to Mizu and collateral damage, remember that sparrow?

While Mizu is breaking into Boss Hamata's manse, she gets startled by a bird and kills it on reflex. She then cradles it in her hands - much more tenderly than we've seen Mizu treat almost anything up to this point in the season:

She then puts it in its nest, with its unhatched eggs. Almost like she's trying to make the death look natural. Or like an accident.

You see where I'm going with this.

When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:

And btw a lot of stuff about this show hit me hard, but this remains the biggest gut punch of them all for me, Mizu holding that poor girl's body close, GOD

When Mizu arranges the "scene of the crime," Kinuyo's body is delicate, birdlike. And Mizu is so shaken afterward that she gets sloppy. She's horrified at this kill to the point that she can't bring herself to take another innocent life - the boy who rats her out.

MIZU'S ONE MOMENT OF SOFTNESS AND MERCY, COMING ON THE HEELS OF HER NEEDING TO KILL A GIRL TO SPARE HER THE WORST FATE THAT THIS RIGID SOCIETY HAS TO OFFER WOMEN, AND TO SPARE A BROTHEL FULL OF INNOCENT WOMEN WHO ARE THE CASTOFFS OF SOCIETY, NEARLY RESULTS IN ALL OF THEIR DEATHS

No wonder Mizu is as stoic and cold as she is.

And no wonder Mizu has no patience for Akemi whatsoever right before the terrible reveal and the fight breaks out:

Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!

The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.

And, uh

Yeah.

I like to think that Mizu killing the sparrow is not only foreshadowing for what she must do to Kinuyo, but is also a representation of the choice she makes on Akemi's behalf. She decides to cage the bird because she believes the bird is "better off." Better off caged than... dead.

But because Mizu doesn't know Akemi or her situation, she of course doesn't realize that the bird is fated to die if it is caged and sent back home.

Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:

But softness and mercy haven't gotten Mizu anywhere good, recently.

There is so much tragedy layered into Mizu's character, and it includes the things she has to witness and the choices she makes - or believes she has to make - involving women, when she herself can skirt around a lot of what her society throws at women. Although, I do believe that it comes at the cost of a part of Mizu's soul.

After all, I'm gonna be haunted for the rest of this show by Mizu's very first prayer in episode 1:

"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.

Kind of like another bird in this show:

[creatingblackcharacters]

“That One Hairstyle? RETIRE IT!” Black Hair is an Art (pt.1)

(This is part one of two lessons, with this one focusing on how our hair itself! The next lesson will encompass how to incorporate its existence into your writing. It'd be a massively long post otherwise.)

So! Black hair. Black hair is a CENTRAL, ESSENTIAL part of our culture and identity. Writing and drawing it means understanding the vulnerability and trust that comes with access to it, and yes, it is racist to suggest that ‘it’s just hair’ when our hair serves such an important role in our history and art. I already wrote a mini-lesson and ask on the topic, but being aware of what our hair looks like, and what means to us, will help you to understand why we care that you put in the effort to get it right.

Hair Textures

We are not a genetic monolith! However, for the sake of this series, we are focusing on 3C-4C, because 1) it's most likely to be seen in life and 2) least likely to be seen in popular art! When you are creating your characters, consider the style and care for THESE textures. I will get more into this next lesson.

Let's get into SOME of the hairstyles!

Afros (36 Afro Hairstyles)

“So, what’s the phenomenon behind the Afro? Well, it’s our hair in its most natural form, but that’s only part of the phenomenon. It’s a way to fight the status quo without saying a word.”

-Ebony Magazine, The History of the Afro

When nonBlack society hears ‘afro’, they think completely picked out, Black power imagery, political statement. And it was, and is! But in actuality, afros are just the natural hair growing out of a Black person's head. The same way your hair grows out of your head. Our texture. Even my hair is not allowed to be ‘hair’, it has to ‘assign’ my Blackness; my distance from whiteness. Imagine, the hair growing out of your head being automatically associated with how you should be perceived. Just by existing, it is making a statement in a Eurocentric society.

Braids (31 Braid Styles)

There are SO MANY TYPES of braids and ways to wear them. If you can imagine a design, I bet there's a Black braider that can do it!

CORNROWS ARE NOT AUTOMATICALLY BRAIDS! Internalize this! They may be used in the same style, but they are NOT INTERCHANGEABLE TERMS!

Braids are considered a protective style; that is, a hairstyle designed to let our hair 'rest' and grow without having to manipulate it. If you have a Black character that's constantly on the go and/or doesn't have time to focus on their hair, and you want an accurate, more true-to-life experience for them, braids can be a crucial part of character design.

Locs

(Yes, while that link has plenty of examples, it was also self-indulgent. Locs are gorgeous, Black men with locs are gorgeous!)

"Locs vs Dreads": As someone in the loc community, there’s been a push to refer to the style as ‘locs’, rather than ‘dreadlocks’. Some people with the style will not care, but others take it very seriously, so it’s something to keep in mind. There’s a societal stigma behind having locs, that they’re ‘dirty’ or ‘unkempt’ or ‘lazy’ and that is NOT true. Locs are beautiful, and they take far more effort than people seem to want to believe lmao.

Locs, though there is currently a positive revival, are still highly discriminated against. Kids have been expelled from school and even have had their hair forcibly cut off to be allowed to participate in sports. Many places won't hire you if they think your hair is 'unprofessional' or 'dirty', especially if you're a Black woman. To consider yet another example of the hair that grows out of my head 'dirty' is extremely racist.

LOCS ARE NOT BRAIDS!!!!

Locs are also a protective style, albeit a much more permanent one, and one that comes with a long history and culture behind it. Many Black people consider the biblical story of Samson to be a man with locs, and that our locs hold power within them. That not just anyone should be allowed to touch your locs. So, if you're interested in mythology and powers, that might be an intriguing way to go, that would be possible if you had a Black character with locs!

In Professional Media

The lack of awareness and concern about our hair isn't just a fan or amateur creator experience. It is ubiquitous in the professional media world. Black actors, actresses, and models have discussed having to do their own hair when working, because no one would properly care for it on set if it wasn't familiarly white. It’s admittedly grown better- however! After decades of not having options other than ‘stereotypical afro’, ‘box cut’, and ‘white people hair’, it is LONG PAST TIME to stop settling for the bare minimum in Black character design. We can tell when "one of us" (with some sense, at least) wasn't in the room to make decisions in popular media.

If you were curious about the lesson title, here's a current example of what I'm talking about in video games. Tell me if you see a pattern:

This style? The Killmonger? We seent it!!!! It has become the “hairstyle to show I understand the exaggerated swagger of a young Black teen” option, the "I know the Black people!" go-to, and frankly, we are all tired of it. Okay it was cute on Ekko. The Black Delegation DEMANDS the professional video game industry pick something else! We have SO MANY DIFFERENT HAIRSTYLES!

I'll give you an example on the other end (not trying at all; refer to Lesson 1) from one of my favorite games, Hades:

This is my blorbo. My favoritest guy. I’ll fight for Patroclus being Black til the day I die. While I begrudgingly settled in my excitement, I can tell you no one Black with any voting power was in the room at Supergiant when they approved this design. Why? His texture! Locs were such an easy option if they wanted long hair! Locs existed BEFORE Ancient Greece! The man did not have a flat iron while fighting in a war! A good Black designer would have considered that!

To give him a more accurate design, some artists (myself included) lean into giving him locs (one of my favorites is @karshmallow 's Pat; a phenomenal example in caring about your Black characters). It’s something Black fans find themselves doing- redesigning Black characters. That's not something we should have to do at all, especially in media we pay for!

But if you REALLY want your Black character to have straight hair, that leads into the last style of this lesson:

Straight Hair

We do have straight hair. But it’s not straight because it grew out that way! It will still look and be thicker! It might be a wig or a sew-in (human or synthetic), it might be flat-ironed (while relaxed? While natural?) It takes effort to get and maintain straight hair.

'I think it looks better good this way!'

If you catch yourself thinking this, this is a racist statement. Whether you’re aware of it our not, there is a bias towards Eurocentric/white features in our society, and that includes in our media. When you think “I only drew [this Eurocentric hair texture and style] because I think it looks good on them!” I want you to PAUSE and think about the WHY. WHY do you think that this Black person’s natural features are unattractive in comparison to the white hair texture you gave them? And how hurt might a Black peer of yours would feel hearing that you find their natural features not worth drawing because they’re “not attractive”. It requires approaching your own internal biases, recognizing them, and then working to unlearn them. And that means practice! Using references to draw our hair and styles, and growing used to using OUR features on US!

Doing it in Art

Me personally, I think if you think drawing thinner hair textures is easy, thicker hair textures should be a BREEZE. I was curious, so I challenged myself and-

(it took me about thirteen minutes total to do ol boy's hair and it's still not right. I'm sick fr y'all don't even know 🤢)

@ackee has a really good art lesson on the how-tos of drawing Black hairstyles. I highly recommend checking it out, as well as following and supporting a fellow Black artist (who is far better than I!)

Hair Brushes

Finally, an option you can use for painting is downloading Black hair brushes! Vegalia has an amazing array of brushes with different types of curls, locs, and braids at her Etsy store! You can also follow her on social media to see how she applies them, and support yet another amazing Black creative!

I know this was a long one, but you made it! Just keep going. Remember, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

[xfindingtrouble]

sighs bcs i did the math wrong & domeric would be closer to 20-25 if he had survived to the beginning of agot

[saetoru]

Tee…

I’m now on my hands and knees BEGGING for bully Gojo who is (secretly) DISGUSTINGLY IN LOVE over the reader PLEASE ANY CRUMBS I WILL TAKE

(you don’t actually have to write this it was just a nice thought)

idkkkkk if it’s rly bully gojo—but he’s definitely a real cunt for sure.

i just think about an asshole! gojo a lot like he’s ur lab partners or something and he does that stereotypical jerk move where he’s like “seriously ?? her ??” when he’s first paired with you. and he’s just naturally an douche, yk ?? wears sunglasses indoors and makes jokes at the professors expense under his breath that gets him snickers and snorts from his frat guys in his class. has to be asked more than once to “please keep it down in the middle of class” by wtv prof he’s in class with.

and he ofc makes u do all the work bc he can’t be bothered—and on the rare occasion that he is bothered, he just does a poor job that’s the bare minimum and sloppy enough that ur like wtv i’ll just do it myself. and then ofc sometimes u don’t have a choice but to meet up to finish something after class every now and then—he wouldn’t care to, but he actually needs to know the stuff for the final report he has to write individually, so he begrudgingly meets up with you, and sometimes you notice his friends give you an amused look when he walks up with them. they snicker before they leave as he sits with you. sometimes they make a snide comment here and there like “have fun with ur super hot date” that makes him roll his eyes—he doesn’t do much to hide the look of distaste on his face.

but then—and he doesn’t even know when it happens—you start to slowly grow on him. because ur actually pretty snarky urself, sometimes making a dry comment here and there about the professor and his stupid bald headed self. sometimes a girl in the distance laughs too hard a group of guys that u roll ur eyes and mumble how “if i had a voice like that i’d never laugh in public” and it makes him snort a bit without meaning to. sometimes you stare daggers at the person who has their music so loud thru their headphones they can’t help but notice u and turn it down in embarrassment. ur actually not as much of a pushover as he thought—you just genuinely think he’s too incapable to help u out that you’ve just shrugged him off and started doing his part. it’s an easy weekly lab class anyway, you don’t need him—and then he realizes that u rly just don’t care for him. his little snickers at u with his friends and their snide comments roll off ur back bc well…he’s him—an asshole little frat boy and u didn’t expect anything better from him. so it makes him a little intrigued—maybe a little wounded in his pride, deep down, because no one has ever been indifferent to him before. they’re either madly in love, or they hate his guts, or they follow his lead. either works—he still gets the attention he craves.

but u just don’t rly care. and ur actually pretty cool, and kinda sorta funny in a way no one else is. he likes it…and fuck, now he’s starting to like you. he can tell bc when his friends ask how his little date with you went, he starts getting a bit huffy ab it bc they don’t need to talk about you. they don’t even know you…but also….its not a date. and that’s the worst part. sometimes it feels like a date. almost—sometimes you both decide to take a break in between and go get a coffee or a light snack. sometimes he’s even paid (to which you look mildly shocked before politely thanking him) and you both walk back to the library while u make light banter and it’s…well, fun. and nice. and your laugh is pretty. and your smile is kinda cute and he (though he hates to admit it) rly likes it when u laugh because of him.

and then things start to get messy—really, he didn’t mean for it to start this way. he really was meaning to ask you in a genuine manner to see u again once the semester was finished. because he’s actually started pulling his weight—he wants u to see him for someone who’s smart. satoru is actually rly rly smart and no one knows it because he doesn’t rly show it but he is. he wants u to see that side of him—somehow there’s some sick validation he rly needs from you knowing he’s not a dense frat guy who drinks and fucks until 3 am every night. so he starts doing his parts and actually communicates with u about sections. so starts ur texting routine—sometimes a little longer than u rly need to for just doing a lab together. sometimes it’s “did u hear ab that girl in our class getting dumped in front of the kfc ??” and sometimes it’s “god our prof rly needs to get some pussy” and other times it’s “look what the guy who sits behind us just posted on his story” and it leads to a few long convos that admittedly…are rly fun. ur so fun. he likes it. he rly does like u and he thinks maybe….maybe he’s grown on u too and you know what ?? satoru’s always a jerk but ur nice and who’s to say he can’t be nice too ?? just for one person. for u, he can be a nice guy—u carried lab all on ur own long enough that u deserve it anyway.

until he gets swayed in that way only a coward can. in that way you do when ur used to being “the man” around ur friends and ur too pressured to keep up that energy for appearances sake bc u don’t wanna be the laughing stock who softened up for “some nerdy chick who’s a nobody.” so he laughs when they laugh at the fact that ur probably “still a virgin who’s never touched a guy before” and then they’re patting gojo on the back and shoving at his shoulder as they laugh harder and suggest that “y’know what would be so funny man ?? if u took her virginity. you could probably do it.”

the thought is sickening because…satoru wouldn’t want to fuck you like that. god, you have him caring about when and how he fucks you—in fact, just thinking about you lewdly makes him feel guilty. disrespectful, even. you’re more than a fleshlight for his dick. since when did he become so respectful ?? but he doesn’t know how to say no, especially when everyone starts agreeing one after the other—and oh no, now they’re betting on how quickly he can do it….and oh, now it’s not just fucking. now it’s “how long until you think she’s head over heels for you? man, that would be a sight, huh ??”

and….well, satoru decides it couldn’t hurt, right ?? he does want to be romantically involved so that would include you being head over heels. hopefully. fingers crossed. and he doesn’t rly want to seem lame in front of the guys either, so he gets to keep both sides of the coin, so is it really that bad ?? maybe not the right idea but certainly the right execution. he’ll treat you well—that much he’s confident of. so he forces out a laugh and says “gimme a month or two, you’ll see.”

and a month or two they give him. and a month or two it takes—but not for you to be head over heels. it’s him who’s utterly and completely obsessed and fallen head first and whatever else they say to describe love because wow. this must be what it is. this must be that stupid fairytale shit they always talk about because fuck, no one has ever looked at him like that. like he’s some miracle to this earth and some wonder only you know of—like you hope it stays that way and that he’s yours and yours alone and no one else comes in to take him away. satoru really likes being yours, it kinda feels better than you being his. being yours means you hold him like that at night and wake him up to a kiss between his brows and sometimes, when he gets those migraines he’s prone to getting, you always seem to know. always seem to understand when to close the blinds and keep quiet and wrap him up in the covers as you rub your thumbs over his temples soothingly.

he almost forgets about that silly little bet he made two months ago when he’s around you. actually, he forgets everything when he’s around you. he’s only ever thinking about you, you, you. when he comes back to his frat house, on the other hand, they’re all gathered around waiting for the newest details. how you must’ve been so pathetically star struck by him. how you must be embarrassingly bad at kissing. how you must stutter over every other word around him. how you must be making a complete and utter fool of urself trying to impress him and be someone you’re not bc the real you would never pique his interest.

they’re wrong ofc. if anyone’s star struck, it’s satoru bc how the hell are u so…cool ?? and so funny and witty and carefree ?? and you’re good at kissing—have him chasing your lips with a whine every time. sometimes you even chuckle at him when he does and make him blush a bit. he’s the one who stutters over his words when he sees you in your little date night outfits. sometimes he watches you drink from your straw and his brain short circuits a little until you snap at him and ask him in confusion if he’s alright. but the real kicker ?? it’s that if anyone’s pretending, it’s satoru. you’re always just you—unapologetically so, that it’s endearing and beautiful and so unearthly he wonders how he got so lucky. but him ?? he’s always acting like some guy he’s not. some chivalrous guy who opens doors and pushes out seats and kisses the back of hands and waits at least a few dates before even considering fucking. some nice, sweet, genuine guy who’s deserving.

he’s not that—never was. if you knew the real him, you’d leave in a heartbeat. it’s a scary thought. a raw feeling he doesn’t like. makes him feel all self conscious and insecure and all that weird shit he never thought he’d feel.

he tries. so hard, he tries to make them forget about that silly little bet and just slowly drop it and maybe even forget ur dating so he can just stay living this peaceful little fantasy with you—but that’s stupid. that’s naive. it’s been 4 months and enough is enough—the guys need to see the look on ur face when u realize what a fool ur being and satoru is “being a lazy ass who’s too comfortable not having for work for pussy these days.” so then there’s a video going around. it’s everyone gathered around on the couch drunk and talking about you. and satoru. you both, in fact. how it’s been two months and u seem desperate for his attention with the shrill little voice you use to call him toru, baby! it’s so, so fucking embarrassing, they say. how you think he likes it. (he does. god he does so much, it hurts. he loves it, actually, when you call him that. makes him feel special in a way he never has.) but then, the worst, most disgustingly nauseous part of the whole thing is when satoru laughs along and plays into their awful words. just lets them talk about you like you’re some piece of meat. something for him to chew up and spit out after he has a taste or you. not even worth savoring and enjoying. he laughs along and agrees—you’re nothing special and he can’t wait until he’s free of you.

that part hurts. that part sucks the most—when he acts like he didn’t tremble under your touch every time you kissed him. like he didn’t beg you to stay just five more minutes! before walking out the door to go home. he acts one way in front of you and one way in front of them and what’s worse ?? you don’t know which one is real. couldn’t tell even if your life was on the line to decide. because there’s no way he’s that good at pretending to be desperately in love, no fucking way. but there’s also no way he can be in love if he’s talking about you like that. that’s not what love is—that’s not what love feels like. that’s not what it means to someone.

you don’t know which satoru is the real one, but you know that neither is worth your time. not if he can’t stick to it.

it’s terrible thing—the way you break up. it’s messy and teary and he’s begging, he’s actually begging. he never thought he’d do that. but he doesn’t even hesitate to plead for you to hear him out. baby, please let me explain. wait, please don’t walk away—please just listen! i can explain.

he can’t explain, though when you as him to. stands there with a bitten bottom lip and teary eyes that are pleading you to just stay with him. to overlook this and just … ignore it like it’s nothing. like what he did and said was just nothing and you can shrug it off like you’re nothing too. like your feelings are nothing and so is your worth and that’s why you should just ignore the way he absolutely destroyed your pride and reputation and dignity and worse….every ounce of your love.

such deep, raw, pure love—it’s almost enough to heal every dry crack and crevice of this earth and bring it back to life.

you look at him with teary eyes and something so broken, it makes him feel like dirt beneath your feet.

“it’s embarrassing, satoru,” you hiss that night through tears, “you’re in your twenties getting a degree and you’re still just a high school bully. life’s really gonna kick you in the ass some day.”

life’s already kicking him in the ass as soon as you walk out. the air is colder. the world is dimmer. food doesn’t taste as good and fuck—there is just so much loneliness when you have no one to be yourself with. when there’s no you.

but he supposes you’re right though—he is just a bully. it’s pathetic, really. and maybe it’s for the best. maybe you don’t deserve someone who’s only ever known how to feel good because someone else doesn’t.

[hoodiedmenace]

One day I'm gonna kiss the character designers for rise of the tmnt.

Yeah shape theory and all that, it's super neat but IT GOES SO MUCH DEEPER.

Since the beginning of tmnt, the turtles have always been hard to distinguish from each other. Especially in the 1987 show, but all the way up to 2007 movie, the one thing the turtles have really had to distinguish themselves is their color of their masks, their weapons, and usually some minor design changes like the letter on their belts, height, and skin tone. But even those have been subtle.

The 2012 series is really the first tmnt iteration to change up the turtles in a significant way. Not only is their skin different shades of green, but their heights are a more significant difference. Donnie towers of the other turtles, and Mikey's height really solidifies him as the youngest brother.

That isn't where the differences end, though. Raph has a crack in his plastron, Mikey has freckles, and Donnie is much lankier and skinny than the others. The main problem with this though, is that they are still fairly subtle. From behind and without their masks on, it's impossible to tell whether its Mikey, Leo, or Raph on screen. Not to mention, Leo is sort of treated as a 'base', and the other three turtles are just alterations made to his design.

Rise, on the other hand, said "hold my beer."

Not only do rise turtles have the different heights, skin tones, and masks, they have different body types.

And not only are these differing body types useful in telling the turtles apart, they have genuine meanings. So I'm gonna infect your brains with my brainrot.

Starting with Mikey.

Mikey has always been the silliest of the group, the party dude, if you will. Rise uses shape theory to give this playful, young vibe to him. Not only are his markings circles, but so is his head and shell. His design is very rounded overall.

The other thing about rise, is that all their fighting types are different. Their weapons influence these styles along with their personality. Mikey's style of fighting is very acrobatic, very showy. He is very in touch with his sense of balance and the space around him.

It can't be a coincidence that Mikey's body type is also very similar to an acrobat or gymnastic athlete. His muscles are small but compact, and rounded like the rest of him. His limbs are small, but clearly strong and well maintained. Acrobats often have these types of hidden muscles, where they almost disappear when not in use because of the function of them. They aren't using the muscles for heavy lifting or grueling tasks. Acrobats use their muscles for balance and manipulating their own body.

Next is Leo. Unlike 2012 where Leo is used as a baseline for the other character designs, he most definitely has his own unique look. Overall, he's very sharp. His crescent moon markings on his face and limbs, his swords, and his overall stylized body shape leans into this pointed, sharp look.

Leo attacks quick in the series. He is often one of the first to strike, and thinks well ahead in battle to preserve his energy. His battle moves tend to also continue throughout the fight with a large blow in the beginning and end, with smaller strikes in between.

Leo is also the leanest of the turtles, with a small waist and the lithest of the turtles' limbs. All of this points his character design towards a long distance runner. They often start and end races with bursts of energy, and then pace themselves throughout the rest of the race. They have to think and consider their speed. Long distance runners also have very lean muscles. It has to do with the actual proteins in the muscle that make them thinner but perfect for pacing and persevering throughout long lengths of time.

Similar to Leo is Donnie. The disaster twins, as the fandom has named them for being the same age, are the most physically similar. They are nearly the same height and, when Donnie had his battle shell on, their shells are very similar in shape. However, they are still very different. Donnie has a rectangular build with his purple pixel-like markings and big ass forehead. Him and Raph also are the only turtles in rise with full head coverings, and they are also both square shaped.

Donnie tends to put all of his energy into one, well timed blow. Usually using his tech to discombobulate the enemy and then backing off quickly. (The only time this doesn't hold true is when he's fighting with April, where it's only the two of them. However, he still does tend to attack and then back away.) His muscles are the second most defined of the turtles, being thick and bigger than both Leo and Mikey.

For this reason, Donnie I believe is built off of a sprinter. A short distance runner. The perfect match to Leo (the twins ever bro)

Sprinters have to save up all of their energy in order to use it all in one short length of time, often just a few seconds. Exactly how Donnie attacks. Sprinters also have much larger, more defined muscles than long distance runners. I think it has something to do with storing energy and oxygen to be used all at once.

Finally, there's Raph. Raph is big and bulky in the show, with the biggest muscles and is *physically the strongest. He lifts giant boulders and can carry all three of his brothers, April, and Splinter with ease. His shape is a square, with his head and chest being large and boxy. His fighting style is the least ninja-y out of the four, being more related to actually just throwing hands with someone. He fights physically and often times without his weapons, preferring to attack with his body. He gets in the enemy's space and uses his larger size to overpower them. His ability to make himself bigger with his mystic powers furthers this idea. He attacks hard and doesn't let up, not allowing his weaknesses to be exploited by keeping the enemy from never getting a hit in.

I believe Raph is based off of a wrestler or boxer. They fight physically and roughly, preferring to never allow their opponent get a hit in if it allows. Their act of defense is also similar, as boxers generally use their weapon as defense instead of offense. (Raph does this in the train battle and the shredder fight pre-karai death.) Even some of Raph's moves are essentially boxing moves. It also makes sense why, in the show, Raph loves wrestling so much. It may not be boxing, but it's a very similar sport.

Boxers also have large, bulky figures similar to Raph. Their entire body is muscular as opposed to just their legs or arms because of how physical their sport is.

*Mikey throws a lot of super heavy stuff like the top of a sky scraper, a loaded cargo ship, and a semi-truck, but he does it with the help of his mystic weapon.

Hahaha I'm so. Normal.

[bayjaruchel]

Whammy Kiss Me (Whammy Hug)

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Pairing: Clapton Davis/AFAB Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Maybe Seven Minutes in Heaven isn't a pointless party game, after all. (3.9k | originally posted on ao3 | Masterlist )

－－－

It's not until the closet door shuts that you realize the gravity of your current situation. 

You've been at the party for at least a couple of hours; you've grown used to the general noise. The slight haziness of the air. You're not quite hammered yet, but you've got one or two drinks in your system. Just enough that you can enjoy the feeling without worrying about the hangover tomorrow. Judging by the way that a couple of people had been giggling and swaying, not everyone who was sitting around the circle shared your sense of self-conservation. 

Although it hadn't been the brightest outside— it was dim, but also somewhat illuminated at the same time with the neon lighting— the single lightbulb hanging above your heads doesn't do much against the darkness. 

Yeah. Heads, plural. 

Luckily, there's only one person in the cramped space besides yourself. 

Unluckily, that person is one Clapton Davis. 

It's not that you don't like him. Actually, you feel the exact opposite towards him, but that's not the point. It's just that— you know, you could spend seven minutes just sitting in silence, doing absolutely nothing— but you're suddenly hyper-aware of the way your knees are brushing. The way there's something in the air. Maybe you're just imagining it, but there's something … restless. Something like—  

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted when he speaks. 

"So," he says, casually. As if you're not within necking distance in a cramped space. "You enjoying the party?" There's that same easy grin on his face. He's completely at ease, apparently. You're not sure if that's because of his ever-present (and sometimes misguided) confidence, or because he's used to stupid little party games like this. It's probably a combination of both. 

"Yeah." You find yourself replying, almost on autopilot. "The punch isn't as bad as I thought it would be." 

Clapton honest-to-god giggles at that. "It's still pretty shitty, though."

"I wouldn't say shitty."  

"Awful, then." He raises his eyebrows. "Let's just say that it's an … acquired taste." 

You can't help but smile. "Fair." He's right— you're pretty sure that the only people who actually enjoy it are the people who regularly attend these parties. Said people usually just come to get drunk, anyway, and the punch works wonders. Magically malicious.  

"It's either that or cheap beer," he muses. "Or wine busted from mommy and daddy's fridge in the basement." 

"Expensive wine?" 

"Could be." Clapton shrugs, pulling his knees closer to his chest. You try in vain not to focus on his arms as he wraps them around his legs. Was it really necessary to wear the tank top? "Maybe," he says. "But I doubt that anyone here would wanna drink it." 

You unconsciously mirror his posture. "Why's that?" 

He snorts. "Too classy." 

It sort of makes sense. You can't really see Josh from Calculus sipping a glass of pinot noir, much less enjoying it. Maybe one has to start from the bottom of the hypothetical alcohol pyramid and work their way up. The bottom, meaning Bud Light. Or Coors Light. All of the Lights. 

"Cheap beer it is, then." 

Clapton's grin is back. 

"Unfortunately." 

You're starting to relax, even if you can still feel your heart pounding whenever his eyes meet yours. Even if your eyes are lingering. When he reaches up to idly run his fingers through his hair, you can't stop yourself from wondering: is it as soft as it looks? 

"How much time d'you think we have left?" He asks, just as you're attempting to reel yourself back in. 

"Uh," you start. Nice. "I don't know— maybe, like, four minutes or so?" Spending a couple of minutes talking about drinks wasn't exactly the plan, but you're not exactly complaining. It's still better than awkward silence. You wonder— again— about how many times he's done this before. How long does it usually take before people give in? 

The muffled music from outside has been reduced to just the thumping of the bass, and the rhythm matches your pulse. 

"Four minutes," he echoes. 

You can't hold his gaze, glancing down at your knees instead. 

"Yeah." 

You can tell when Clapton adjusts himself where he's sitting, but you have a feeling that he hasn't looked away. Not yet. 

"What do you wanna do now?" He asks, innocently. "Four minutes is a long time." 

When you look up, you're proven right. The faint glow of the light doesn't hide anything. It just makes everything feel vaguely dreamlike. And, okay. This is pretty cliche. But you've watched too many movies, seen too many shows—  you know what that look is. That look doesn't mean that he wants to play rock-paper-scissors for the remainder of your time left. 

"I don't know," you manage. "What do you want to do?" 

His eyes dip briefly before flicking back up. 

"I was asking you," he teases softly. "We've already had a pointless conversation." He mimes checking a box midair with his pointer finger. "Check. And we've already sat in silence for a couple of seconds." He repeats the motion on another imaginary box. "Check." 

"Oh, ouch. Talking about alcohol is pointless?" You're a little amused. "So, what's left on the list?" 

Clapton raises his eyebrows again. 

There's a shift in the air. 

"C'mon, don't tell me that you actually don't know." His tone's dropped to little more than a whisper, but due to your closeness, you can hear him loud and clear. Your brief bit of confidence wanes— your face warms, and you pause. Sure, you're well aware of what he's implying— but you're not sure if he's just joking around or not. When has Clapton Davis ever been serious, besides that one time he competed in a skateboarding competition in the sixth grade?  

The lighthearted lilt in his voice is almost gone, though. 

"I know what you're trying to say," you finally reply, matching his volume. And you do want to kiss him. You really, really do. 

"Okay," he murmurs in return. "Well, that's good." He dares to smile, though you know you're weak to it. 

"I don't have to ask you out loud, right?" 

He definitely already knows the answer to that question. 

"Yeah, you don't." 

You've tuned out the outside world, muffled as it already was. The music and noise fade to a quiet hum. You can hear the quiet buzz of the lightbulb— the barely audible clattering as your back moves against the uncomfortable storage shelves— the sound of his sneakers scuffing against the hardwood floor— 

"But if I did ask," he says, uncharacteristically hesitant, "you'd say yes?"  

Your heartbeat thrums in your throat. 

The seconds tick by— you know you can't wait. It's been at least a minute and a half— 

"Just do it," you breathe.   

And he does. 

The first thing you register is how soft his lips are. Then, his hands— cupping your face— your own hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, tugging him closer. His hair is as soft as it looks. There's no slow build-up because there's no time for that. All you can think about is him— the little sounds he lets out as you kiss, the way he can't wait when you part, his breath briefly coming in soft pants before he leans in to capture your lips again. He tastes vaguely like beer, and maybe that would have bothered you if it were any other guy— but with him, you don't really care at all. His nose presses a little awkwardly against yours a couple of times, but he makes up for it with how eager he is. You know he's not a bad kisser; he's just impatient. 

You lose yourself for a little while. It feels like forever. You wrap your arms around his neck, reluctantly dropping your grip on his hair. His hands start to stray, one anchoring itself behind your neck and the other traveling lower. And lower— 

There's a loud series of knocks at the door. 

Clapton's slower to react, and you're the one to pull back first. When you do, he leans forward to chase your lips—  but stops upon noticing your expression. In direct comparison to you, he just looks giddy. Almost dazed. His hair's a little disheveled from earlier, and he hasn't let go of you yet. 

"Huh," he says, before the door is yanked open. 

You're immediately greeted by exactly what you had expected. Whistles. Catcalls. General hooting. Some "called it!"s and "you owe me five bucks, man!"s. 

Clapton just grins, reveling in it all. Because of course he would. But, before you can get too embarrassed, he's getting to his feet, pulling you along with him as you both exit the closet— exiting what had previously been your own little world. Instead of just rejoining the circle, like part of you expects him to do, he pauses to lean over to you and whisper: 

"Wanna go upstairs?" 

You blink at him. He's still smiling— he almost looks star-struck. You feel that familiar swoop in your stomach. Maybe it's a stupid decision that you'll regret later, but—

"Okay," you agree. 

The whistling doesn't stop as he grabs your wrist, making a beeline for the stairs. The son of a bitch takes them two at a time, and you do your best to keep up. Upstairs, it's quieter than it is on the ground floor, since there are fewer people up here; still, though, you can hear the music echoing through the hallway. A girl's laughter rings out, followed by a string of giggles. 

It's not very hard to find an empty bedroom. You gingerly shut the door behind you, taking a moment to look around. There are one or two posters here and there, and a few photos placed on the dresser. Other than that, it's kind of bare-bones. A guest room, maybe? You sure hope so. While you're distracted, Clapton leisurely sits down on the bed, bouncing a couple of times. 

"Cozy," he remarks, and you turn to look at him. 

"You think?" 

He grins. "Sure do." 

You sit next to him on the mattress. It's not bad. For a moment, he just looks at you. Taking you in. 

But he doesn't hesitate much longer, and leans in. Automatically, you angle your head just so. Unlike before, he kisses you in small pecks at first. One of his hands finds your cheek. However, as the minutes draw by, your kisses grow longer. More languid. He hums into your mouth, and you move closer. Closer, until your thighs are brushing his, and you're nearly off-balance, but it's still not close enough. 

He draws back. This close to him, you can pick out his freckles. His eyelashes are long, framing half-lidded eyes. His lips are still parted. 

"Should I lay back?" He asks, hushed. "Or do you wanna—" 

"Go ahead," you interrupt.  

Clapton flops backward onto the pillows, wiggling around to make himself more comfortable. When you think he's got himself in a good position, you crawl over him. The way he looks up at you— it makes you a little lightheaded, but in the best way possible. His hands find your waist. You can do little but settle against him, pressing your lips to his for the nth time. 

Enthusiastically, he responds, and it's not long before your kisses grow messier. Needier. His hands wander, moving down to rest on your hips, and then lower— you let out a gasp when he squeezes your ass, and he uses the opportunity to pull you harder against him. You're no stranger to how strong his arms are, but, yeah, being on top of him like this is an entirely new experience. He's soft and firm in equal measures, his chest sturdy where it's pressed against yours. His hands are warm when he moves them under your shirt, up your back, making you shiver.  

Bracing your hands on his torso, you sit up. For a second, he's confused, but that quickly fades away as you reach down to pull up your shirt. 

"Holy shit," he murmurs. He scrambles to discard his tank top too, yanking it over his head. You were right— he's toned, but there's still a fair bit of softness there. Of course his chest doesn't have any hair, but at least he kept the trail. You lay back on top of him, the feeling of his skin against yours like this causing you to shudder again. Clapton's hands start to explore once more— square palms, strong fingers. It must be a little bit of an uncomfortable stretch for him, but his thumbs find your nipples, tracing soft circles. 

You briefly enjoy the sensation. Then, your breath stutters when he gently urges you forward and then leans up so he can take them into his mouth. It must be self-indulgent for him, too, because he spends more time than necessary— sucking, flicking his tongue— but it's not like you're complaining.  

When he finally stops, he presses a kiss to the middle of your chest before laying back on the pillows. You move back down, and can't resist the urge to kiss him in return. His jaw— his cheek, which makes him smile. He's already started hooking his fingers in your waistband, and your mild surprise must show on your face, because he abruptly stops. 

"Sorry," he grimaces, "am I going too fast? I - Is that too much?" 

Hastily, you shake your head. "Oh, no. Not at all. It's fine. Just— it just caught me off-guard."  

"Okay." The worry vanishes in an instant. "Okay, I'm gonna." 

You let him slide down your bottoms, and then take them off the rest of the way yourself. His shorts quickly join the rest of the clothing on the floor. Now, you're more or less sitting in his lap— he props himself up on the headboard, his breath heavy as you shift on top of him. With only a few layers between you, you're aware of the shape of him through his boxers.  

You grind your hips with purpose, and he swears under his breath. When you do it again, he muffles himself by kissing you. The friction— you know it's not going to be enough— makes you more desperate, and it must be having the same effect on him, judging by the way he's slightly squirming underneath you. He's not quite thrusting up against you, but it's obvious that if he were in a better position, he would be. When your cunt brushes against him, catching at that angle, he moans openly into your mouth. You draw back only for air. If you could, you'd keep kissing him forever. 

"You gonna let me— mmh — fuck you?" He pants, "ohmygod, 'cause if you don't, you— you are one sick bastard—"  

You smile, although you want him just as badly as he wants you. You're doing a slightly better job at keeping yourself composed, after all. "I don't know," you murmur, "isn't this nice?" 

Clapton bites his lip when you grind down harder this time. "I — well," his hands scramble on your waist, your hips, "it is pretty nice, but, like — I just wanna take the logical— shitfuck — next step, right?" He's looking up at you with wide eyes, "and you are gonna let me, right?" 

"Right," you repeat, your breath catching when you roll your hips at just the right angle, "I am gonna let you, don't worry." 

He's flushed a pretty pink, pupils blown wide, obscuring hazel eyes; you drink him in. "Thought so," he grins. Before you can ask, he's already answering. "And, uh. There's a condom in the pocket of my shorts, if you're worried about that." 

You're in mild disbelief, abruptly halting your movements. 

"In your—?" 

Clapton looks a little bashful, though he's still grinning. "Could you just get it?"  

You're already awkwardly dismounting his lap. "Sure, sure." True to his word, there's a condom in the left pocket of his shorts, and you fish it out without a problem. You glance back at him for a moment, and he doesn't even try and pretend that he wasn't staring. Oh, well. A little clumsily, you get back onto the bed, and move to straddle him again— but he gently stops you. 

"Hey," he says, "can we switch places?" 

You don't need much time to consider it. "Alright." 

Now, he's hovering between your legs, and you're the one lying back. His gaze lingers, but he can't wait for much longer. You lift your hips, and he slides your last remaining piece of fabric off. 

"Fuck," he breathes, just before he gets to work. With the pad of one of his fingers, he collects the wetness that had been gathering, then smoothly slides the digit into your cunt. Swiftly, he adds another, the sensation odd at first, but you know you'll quickly get used to it. When he begins to lightly trace your clit, it only makes it easier for you to loosen up— both figuratively and literally. And he's still adding another. Maybe three fingers aren't strictly necessary, but he crooks them, finding the spot that makes an almost embarrassing noise tumble from your lips. 

You spread your thighs wider. You could definitely cum like this if you let him continue for a while. Glancing up at his face— oh, he definitely would if you wanted him to. He's torn between looking at how his fingers disappear into you and your face. How you're reacting to his touch. It's a little flattering. But as much as part of you wants to see what he's willing to do — 

"I'm — " You feel yourself tense, and you barely stifle an involuntary moan when he thumbs your nub again. "I'm ready. You can —" 

He doesn't even wait until you finish the sentence. He's already pulling out his fingers, tugging off his boxers. Your eyes are immediately drawn downward. Again, you're not surprised that he's shaved. Length-wise, he's probably around average, but girth-wise he's nice and thick. There's a bead of precum at the tip— if he wasn't already tearing open the condom with his teeth in a move that he's probably practiced before, you would've offered to blow him or something. Maybe some other time. 

Your idle thoughts dissipate when he lines himself up and, with an amount of care that nearly belies his previous neediness, presses in. You both moan in unison— he sounds infinitely more strained. He takes a moment to catch his breath, but— 

He starts moving. Little thrusts, at first. Then, pulling out more, pushing back in. His mouth falls open, and you can't resist throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him down. He groans, and you take it in, taking it with his increasing pace. It's good— his thumb finds your sensitive apex again, and that makes you jolt, but you know he's trying to give you a smooth progression between slow and fast. That's not what you want, though. Especially not now. Inches from his lips, you mutter: 

"Don't hold back." 

And that's all it takes. You can vaguely hear the bed creaking when he snaps his hips up to meet yours, roughly fucking into you with almost reckless abandon. Your kisses are sloppy, uncoordinated. But you wouldn't prefer it any other way. You know he probably wouldn't be making those noises if he didn't know they were muffled against you. Some are high-pitched— ragged gasps, moans, and at least one whimper. You also know you don't sound much different. He can't reach down to rub your throbbing clit anymore, due to how he's positioned, but the way that he's angled is more than satisfying in that regard. 

You lose track of time, only aware of his hips colliding against yours— his lips, his hands — the way he's starting to babble. "Fuck, you look so pretty like this," he confesses in a rush, "god, your eyes. I could just — I could just look at you like this forever. If you could see yourself — nnh — you would know." A sharp intake of breath, a few kisses, and then, "Ohfuck. Shit. You're gonna ruin this forever for me. I can't — " 

His rhythm is starting to falter. You can feel the heat pooling low in your gut, the tension that comes before the inevitable release. You tighten around him. His hands braced near your shoulders tremble, and you can see his biceps flexing with the effort of holding himself up like this. 

"Please," Clapton chokes out, and he doesn't specify as to what he wants, but you have a pretty good idea. "I'm gonna— " 

"Do it," you manage, despite your own climbing pitch, "c'mon, give it to me—"    

"Fuck— "  You feel him pulse. For a split second, you wonder how it would feel if he didn't have on the condom—  but your thoughts are quickly overtaken, as you're not too far behind. You twitch, spasming around his cock as your mouth falls open. The tension peaks, the heat spikes— 

He fucks you, gently, as you float back down, riding out your orgasm. Your eyelids flutter shut, and your breath slows, but your pulse is still a fast-paced staccato. 

He gingerly lays on top of you, catching his breath. It's hot against your throat. The world ceases spinning, and you let out a long sigh. 

He mimics it, and you glance down at him. 

You're reluctant to say it, but seriously, this is someone else's house. Guest room or not. 

"We should get cleaned up or something." 

He blinks once, lazily. Seemingly, he's content to lay on your chest. Of course, he's the type to get sleepy after sex. But at least he makes an effort to respond. "Ugh," he says. And then: "Jus' gimme a minute or something." 

You give him a look, and he surrenders. "Okay, fine." 

He slips out with a wet noise, and you only miss the fullness for a moment. Getting off the mattress, he throws out the condom, then accepts the wad of tissues you hand him. It's not the best, but it'll have to do for now. You manage to get most of the evidence of your arousal off before pulling back on your clothes. There's a mirror, thankfully, so you go to try and make yourself look less … fucked. Not that it would really matter. There are definitely people in worse states. 

Clapton stands next to you, but doesn't even try to fix his hair. On him, it looks fashionably disheveled, anyway. 

It's silent, before he interjects: 

"Is this … gonna be just a one-time thing?" 

The strange apprehensiveness is back, and you chance a glance at him. He's not meeting your eyes, but you're sure he's looking at you in the mirror's reflection. 

"I don't know," is all you can think to say, "do you want it to be?" A beat. "We could totally go back to being just sort of friends, if that's what you want." 

Clapton visibly swallows. "I … " 

You wait, patiently. He takes another few seconds. 

"I liked that," he mutters, "a lot. And I— I meant all that stuff. About you." 

He's still not meeting your eyes. It makes you pause. 

"I liked it too," you reply, softly.

The look he gives you next says it all. You know he's not big on old-school romance. He's not big on flowery words— his English grades can certainly attest to that. He's more of an action-oriented guy. Even if you don't get a verbal confession just yet— and you know you will, just not now— you suddenly understand what he's trying to convey. So, you pull yourself together and throw caution to the wind. 

"You wanna get out of here?" 

He beams. 

[insertdisc5]

✨ The In Stars and Time Spoiler Q&A ✨

it's time. MASSIVE IN STARS AND TIME SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. IT'S GONNA BE SO LONG. LET'S GO

I hope you are aware of The Secret Final Boss because I'm also gonna spoil the crab out of that. If you haven't,

1. Did you know the events for interacting with your souvenirs are randomized for some of them, and also change depending on how far you are in the game.

2. Did you know there's a way to show souvenirs to a certain character.

3. Did you know you can go back to Dormont during the Epilogue.

Figure that out, and come back here! Or watch a let's play online. You can also do that.

I will also try to adopt a ~mysterious cool voice with no exclamation points~ for Effect. Come with me on this journey.

Now. Questions time!

✨ Will you ever make a sequel to ISAT, or make a game in the same universe?

Nah. This was always intended to be The Story. This is your turn to imagine things now.

✨ But so what happened to the Country? What was its name? What about the wishes? What about the colors? What did Siffrin say as an openphrase to open the door to the King's room? What about--

I will not answer those. It's your turn.

✨ BUT THE COUNTRY AND THE COLORS AND THE WISHES

Ok fine. Here are some facts that I alluded to in-game, that I am confirming now.

-The Country disappearing and the events that made colors go away are not related.

-The colors disappeared a loooong time ago, which is why knowing they even existed is a relatively new find.

-A wish made everyone forget the Country.

I will ALSO say that ISAT's map operates on Final Fantasy/General Fantasy rules (i.e. in-universe locations are based off of real ones when it comes to culture, but are not one to one parallels, especially for geography), so no, the Country isn't based on the UK oh my god please do not say that to me again or im deleting ISAT out of your computers and putting legos at the foot of your bed. It's based on another place. You can figure it out, I believe in you.

✨ But why won't you give more info on what happened :(

Can you imagine if I did answer. Wouldn't that be a bummer, whatever my answer was. Sometimes things need to stay a mystery. And also, I don't want to answer <3

✨ Does the world Loop came from still exist after they left? Or is this a get mystery'd situation?

There is only One Timeline and it's the timeline that goes from the prologue to ISAT. Every timeline that gets rewound does not exist anymore, and that includes the prologue's timeline.

✨ What's the deal with Siffrin's dream at the start?

It's Siffrin's dream, but that doesn't mean our Siffrin is the main star.

✨ Is [specific missable game moment] canon?

Every moment that you personally experience in the game is canon.

✨ Is there a reason Siffrin remembers their name but the King doesn't?

What makes you think Siffrin does?

✨ At the very very end of the game, if you look out the window behind the Head Housemaiden, Sif mentions seeing an island in the distance. Is that his country?

It is. It's always been there, for the whole game. You can see it in the distance, too.

✨ Who was the King, before?

He was just a guy!

✨ With the King left remembering in the end, does that in any way change the redaction effect for other people in the world going forward?

That's a fun idea. Maybe!

✨ One thing that never really clicked for me is: Is the sweet smell Time Craft or Wish Craft? Or is the sweet smell TIme Craft and specifically the burnt sugar smell is Wish Craft? Other way around? Does this question even matter since without Wish Craft you can't attain Time Craft in the first place? (To me, yes.)

Wish Craft smells sweet. Time Craft doesn't have a smell per se, but it does do something.

✨ Does Mirabelle retain her immunity to being frozen in time after the events of the game or does it go away after the Head Housemaiden is saved? Or does it persist for a while and eventually fade away?

I imagine the immunity slowly faded away. But no one's left to do Time Craft, so it's a moot point anyway.

✨ How was Odile able to stop Siffrin from looping back during the fight against Siffrin?

In the Discord channel I stated that it's because "she's just that cool", but really, she does have access to some skills that heighten the efficacity of Rock/Paper/Scissors attacks, so it's not too much of a stretch to imagine she could lower the efficacity of Time Craft as well. In this last loop, while listening to Loop and observing, she could figure out Siffrin was looping way earlier than she could in even the Sus Quest, so she made plans. She is Very Smart <3

✨ Will you ever share everyone's full names?

That's artbook content <3

✨ In the ending, what happened to Siffrin's hat?

Flew away. It's gone now.

✨ Looking back at the original comics, and seeing how comic!sif has both eyes at the start of their loops, but in ending sequences is shown with his eye patch...did you ever consider making that concept of sif losing their eye a part of the main loop in either of your games? and if so, was there any reason why you decided against it?

Early on, I did think about making that whole event an event that happens during the loops, but quickly let that go since 1. it would be a pain to write and code (two different sets of Siffrin portraits!) and 2. if it happened, the player might want to look for a way to NOT make that happen and so 3. it would be a pain to write and code

✨ How was Siffrin's homelife before?

Pretty good!

✨ How old were Nille and Bonnie when they ran away? How old was Sif when their home got zapped?

Both were teens.

✨ How old IS everyone?

Siffrin is mid-late 20s. Mirabelle and Isabeau are early-mid 20s, with Isabeau being slightly older. Bonnie is a preteen. Odile is Too Old For This. Petronille, Bonnie's sister, is late teens-early 20s. You can ignore whatever I said in the prologue's artbook, whoever wrote this was Wrong!!!!!!!!!!

✨ Regarding the book that talks about someone who crafted a copy of themself using wish craft: is that meant to imply someone we know is the author (and/or the copy), or is it not directly related to any of em? or is it a "who knows ;)" situation where we can just speculate and theorize either way?

Please check the book again during Act 5! This applies to most items/map events by the way, like the pendant. You can check those during Act 5 and 6 for some fun new dialogue!

✨ Why are Siffrin's clothes so warm looking?

The Country got cold at night.

✨ What's up with Siffrin's pins?

They're made out of a special material. And also, they make Siffrin look cool <3

✨ I want to know the story behind Loop’s different eye shades!

They're blind in one eye. Also, fun foreshadowing <3

✨ What determines whether someone is paper/rock/scissors craft? Is it assigned naturally at birth or something else (and how do you find out)? Does it make you more inclined to use that specific craft or is anyone generally free to use whatever craft they want?

Astrology rules, It Just Is A Thing. Being Rock Type means it is way easier for you to do Rock Craft, but that doesn't mean you can't learn other types of craft, although it's way harder. Doing Craft of your type is instinct, doing Craft of another type would take some time and resarch.

✨What crimes has Odile committed before. I need to know.

Odile just smiles.

✨ Why did the King specifically target the House of Dormont?

I had a reason in mind, but adding it to the game would've added a layer of Explanation that really didn't need to be there. It's just a nice House.

✨ Who was Odile's hatecrush...

Dunno. It's your turn.

✨ What is loop's body situation. like is the surface of their "skin" solid? they did poke siffrin that one time, and we know they aren't cold, but...

I have some idea. But it's your turn!

✨ Would Sif still have looped if they hadn't made the wish he made in the beginning? As in, would Vaugarde's combined wish have made him loop until managing to beat the King?

No. But without time powers, you can imagine what would've happened next.

✨ During the Loop Hangout, how did the rest of the team make it all the way to The King? What about during Act 5?

During the Loop Hangout: with difficulty. During Act 5: Loop was there to guide them.

✨ Is Loop: 1. Actually comfortable with both he and they, but only gave the one pronoun to emphasize the distance? 2. Only using they/them because a large life event led to a shift in identity/ how they'd like to be perceived? or 3. time lops stole he from they they :(

Mostly that first one. But all three of those reasons have a bit of truth to them.

✨ Who cooked crab in the House of Change???

This is a very funny question! I've never thought about it. It's your turn.

✨ What are the Orbs that open the gate? Did the King create the Gate or was it there before?

(did not think about the orbs or the gate beyond "plot that proves there was a journey before") Stop Asking Questions,,,, It's your turn,,,,,,

✨ Bonnie's dialogue is *extremely* accurate to how overexcited kids talk, which is really rare to see. Was that something that took a lot of effort to achieve, or did it come naturally to you?

Thank you <3 I'm just that good. Really, Bonnie is an adult with no filter, and less general knowledge. I'm very glad I managed to write Bonnie well, especially since. I haven't talked to a kid. Since I was one myself

✨ The Spoilery Concept Art. Blease

oh yeah. here have it all. this is what I gave Mimi to do the animated trailer!

✨ So. What's everyone's favorite shade.

FINALLY the question. Plus I can say shade names now. White = darkless, Black = lightless. Light and Dark is like light grey/ dark grey. Oh my god I'm checking my notes and I wrote a small event I never used about hair dye colors like "midnight dark", "tomato grey", "snow light" past me that's so fucking funny

Anyway, Siffrin loves darkless, Mirabelle is more of a light shade lover, Isabeau loves that lightless (BECAUSE ITS FASHIONABLE OK), Odile likes darker shades, and Bonnie also loves that lightless (BECAUSE ITS AS DARK AS MY SOUL OK)

✨ Are there any bugs you found during developments that you've made into features?

Two! The first one was the ability to ask Loop to just silently hang out during Act 4. I messed up the code and the game softlocked there, with Siffrin and Loop sitting there silently. I thought it was very sweet. They deserve a little quiet time.

The second was in Act 5 - the House map had a lot of issues with the Act 5 map bringing you back to the normal House map. So one of the testers got brought to the normal House map and didn't notice, and interacted with the Mirror on Floor 3, and it gave them the normal interaction with everyone seeing the mirror and taking a picture, and when they went to look at the picture in their inventory, it gave them the actual Act 5 picture. A little bit after they realized the game bugged out, and told me about it, and begged me to keep that in because they were very unsettled by it. So here it is! Beforehand, it was just Siffrin silently taking a picture, so I'm glad I changed it.

✨ Did you ever have emotional difficulty writing the more sensitive parts of the script, like Siffrin’s intrusive/negative thoughts, for one reason or another? Moreover, did you worry the script may be darker than your initial vision for it anticipated?

Not really. The Mirabelle and Odile hangout scenes were the hardest scenes by far because I really wanted to get them right, but everything else was about the same amount of difficulty. And actually, I wanted to go a little bit darker for the script, but I was worried it was going to be too dark... When it comes to the dagger event, I had a whole tangent about Siffrin thinking about the best way to strike, so to speak, but I deleted it because it was getting A Little Too Detailed. T rating come back to me

✨ For the questions you WON'T answer, did you have your own answers while making the game? Or were they left blank?

Some of them I do, some of them I don't!

✨ I loved this game and I want to replay it but I don't want Siffrin to go through everything again!

Here's a little fun fact I decided: if you hit the credits, you helped a Siffrin escape. If you start a new game, you are creating a new Siffrin that you can emotionally tortu-IIIIIIII MEAN, a new Siffrin that you can help. Do not worry about your Siffrins they are fine

✨ A lot of those answers ended up being "It's your turn", huh.

Yea <3 The answers to some of those questions ARE there if you look. Some just aren't. But you can imagine whatever you want. It's your turn! I finished the game! I'm done working! It's your turn!!!

✨ I loved ISAT and it made me feel so many feelings!

Thank you so much. I'm sorry if you sent a message or ask and I didn't answer it. I read every single one and cherish it! Thank you for playing and thank you for writing me a message!!!!! When I get a little down I look at all of those and I feel better. Thank you. I'm sorry I can't answer them all.

✨ What will you work on next?

I have a project I'm currently in the preproduction stages of. I don't want to talk about it until I feel like I have some stuff to show. Plus I still have to make the ISAT artbook and some other stuff, so it won't be for a while. Nonetheless, I hope you will enjoy it!!!

[agaypanic]

Is this how you request a fic? I have no idea but I’ll try. I’m craving Regina George content. Can you please write something where reader is apart of the plastics but she’s not mean like the rest of them and that’s why Regina likes her. When Cady shows up and Regina has an interest in cady it’s too make reader jealous but instead cady ends up liking reader who distances herself from the plastics and then Regina gets jealous and admits her feelings so reader doesn’t end up with cady. If that makes sense? Thank you!

Craving Your Attention (Regina George X Plastic!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Regina George is the queen of North Shore High and she doesn’t like to share her toys, even if she doesn’t really play with them. 

A/N: kinda toxic!regina even tho thats not really a surprise. slight cady x reader, she likes you instead of aaron (also aaron doesn’t exist teehee). The girls arent homophobic bc cady tells gretchen she likes reader and regina ends up with reader (saying this bc idk if you’re gonna read this with 2004 regina or 2024 regina in mind, and obviously 2004 was a different time lmao) content warning for diet talk but it’s just part of one scene. Heavily relied on the mean girls (2004) script for this fic, so it's almost all written centered around Cady. all in third person which felt a lil weird to write because i usually write in second person lol idk if anyone’s gonna want a part 2 but imma lyk rn that im not planning on writing a part 2, mainly bc this took so painstakingly long

***

Everyone at North Shore High knew about Regina George. They’d be stupid not to. She was practically royalty. 

A queen bee was nothing without her little worker bees. First was Karen Smith. She seemed to give a whole new meaning to the word ‘clueless,’ but she was friendly. In more ways than one.

Then there’s Gretchen Wieners. She was Regina’s eyes and ears, whether it was wanted or not. All she wanted to do was please her leader.

And finally, there was Y/n L/n. If any of the plastics were to be deemed approachable, it was her. She was Regina’s right-hand girl, maybe even a bit more than that. But no one ever brought that up.

But then Cady Heron came to North Shore.

“Is he bothering you?” Regina tilted her head as she looked at the redheaded girl and the familiar boy who was talking to her. Y/n, who was sitting next to Regina, looked up from her food in curiosity. Regina didn’t usually talk to anyone outside of the table during lunch. The girl made a nondescript noise, so Regina turned her attention to the boy. “Jason, why are you such a skeez?”

Jason rolled his eyes, but tried to seem polite.

“I’m just being friendly.”

“You were supposed to call me last night,” Gretchen pouted, looking over her shoulder at Jason.

“Jason.” Attention was brought back to Regina with the simple call of his name. She wore a sweet smile, which meant that Jason was probably about to get a bite taken out of him. “You do not come to a party at my house with Gretchen and then scam on some poor, innocent girl right in front of us three days later. She’s not interested.” Regina then turned to the redheaded girl. “Do you wanna have sex with him?”

She looked shocked, giving an immediate no.

“Good. So it’s settled.”

“You can go shave your back now,” Y/n finished, and the four plastics waved him off. Jason walked away, but not before muttering an insult to the girls.

“Good one,” Regina said quietly to Y/n, who couldn’t help but smile a bit at the small praise. Before she could reply, Regina’s eyes followed after the red-haired girl, who was now starting to walk away. “Wait.” The single word made her stop in her tracks and look back. “Sit down.”

Regina moved her hands, signaling Gretchen and Karen to move to the sides of the lunch bench to make room for this mystery girl. After some more encouragement, she sat down.

“What’s your name?” Y/n asked sweetly, trying to ease the girl’s nerves.

“Cady.”

“Why don’t I know you?” Regina asked, looking at Cady curiously.

“I’m new,” Cady replied. “I just moved here from Africa.”

“What?”

“I used to be home-schooled.”

“Wait. What?”

Cady took a second, wondering why Regina kept saying ‘what.’ She didn’t think it was that confusing.

“My mom taught me at home-”

“No, no.” Regina laughed. “I know what ‘home-school’ is; I’m not stupid. So, you’ve actually never been to a real school before?”

As she spoke, Regina leaned more and more forward towards Cady. And as the conversation continued, Y/n wondered why Regina was taking such an interest in her. Regina never cared about anyone who passed by, too involved in the latest gossip session Gretchen had started or in Y/n’s appearance. Not that Y/n really noticed that; she was busy thinking about Regina to see that Regina was thinking about her. Either way, she didn’t understand why the blonde was suddenly so fascinated by this new girl.

“You’re like, really pretty.”

Oh… That must be why.

Y/n seemed to tune the rest of the conversation out, too wrapped up in Regina’s compliment towards Cady and the bright smile she wore while giving it. She didn’t know why it bothered her. It’s not like Regina belonged to her. If anything, Y/n, along with the rest of the Plastics, belonged to Regina.

Even when Regina brought Gretchen and Karen in close to speak to them and Y/n, leaving Cady awkwardly leaning back to give them more privacy, Y/n didn’t care much to listen. The gist of the conversation was that they wanted Cady to sit with them at lunch for a week, something they had never considered doing with anyone else in this school.

“Okay.” Regina started as Gretchen and Karen relaxed back into their seats, and Cady leaned back in. “You should just know that we don’t do this a lot, so this is, like, a really huge deal. We wanna invite you to have lunch with us every day for the rest of the week.” Regina wore a grin that meant she was up to something, but Cady didn’t seem to decipher that, and the rest of the girls didn’t know what it meant.

“Oh, it’s okay—” Cady’s tone seemed to indicate that she was about to decline, but Regina interrupted her before she could.

“Coolness.” The bell rang, and Regina’s eyes darted over to Y/n before going back to Cady. Her mischievous smile remained present as she, Gretchen, and Karen grabbed their trays. “So we’ll see you tomorrow.”

The three Plastics stood up and left the table, leaving Y/n in a slight daze and Cady confused about what had just happened. Y/n suddenly looked around, realizing that her friends had left without her, but the new girl was still with her. She figured that she should say something before leaving her alone. She didn’t have to be mean or unpleasant just because Regina seemed to like Cady.

“On Wednesdays, we wear pink.” Y/n said it with a timid but sweet smile, trying to get over the revelation that the girl she loved was setting her sights on someone else. Her hand patted Cady’s a few times before she stood up and picked up her tray. “Welcome to North Shore.”

As Cady watched Y/n leave, and as Janis and Damian dragged the redhead away to interrogate her about her interaction with Regina, she couldn’t help but feel warm. Maybe public school wouldn’t be so bad.

***

The next day, Cady was slightly nervous to sit with the Plastics. She felt like a double spy. Janis and Damian were under the impression that Cady was doing it for them, to listen in on Regina’s secrets and relay them back to her friends so they could laugh at the pathetic and superficial nature of it all. And sure, that was the main reason she was sitting with the girls. But Cady also returned to the table so she could bask in a new light, Y/n. 

But living in girl world came with a bunch of rules.

“You can’t wear a tank top two days in a row, and you can only wear your hair in a ponytail once a week. So…” Gretchen laughed lightly, seeming a little nervous for no reason as she looked at Cady, who was wearing her hair in a ponytail. “I guess you picked today. Oh! And we only wear jeans or track pants on Fridays.”

“Which totally blows in the winter,” Y/n muttered before sipping her Diet Coke.

“Now,” Gretchen started again, “if you break any of these rules, you can’t sit with us at lunch.” Cady seemed surprised, but Gretchen continued. “Not just you! Like, any of us. Okay, so, like, if I was wearing jeans today, I would be sitting over there with the art freaks.” She said it with a grimace, pointing over to a table a few feet away from the girls before looking back at Cady. “Oh, and we always vote before we ask someone to eat lunch with us, because you have to be considerate of the rest of the group. I mean, you wouldn’t buy a skirt without asking your friends first if it looks good on you.”

Everyone nodded except for Cady, who was processing all of these new rules she had to follow.

“I wouldn’t?”

“Right,” Gretchen said with a definitive nod. “And it’s the same with guys. Like, you may think you like someone, but you could be wrong.”

“One hundred twenty calories and forty-eight calories from fat,” Regina interrupted, reading a food bar that she had grabbed. She looked at her friends inquisitively. What percent is that?”

“Uh… forty-eight into one hundred and twenty?” Gretchen suggested, not really sure of herself.

“No, I don’t think so, Gretch,” Y/n said, trying to think of the correct answer.

“I’m only eating foods with less than thirty percent calories from fat.”

“It’s forty percent,” Cady said suddenly, proud that she was able to do the equation in her head. Everyone looked at her, expressions varying from impressed to confused. Cady suddenly felt the need to show her work. “Well, forty-eight over a hundred and twenty equals X over a hundred-”

“So then you cross multiply to get X!” Y/n finished off with a grin, thrilled that she knew what Cady was talking about. Cady smiled back at her with the same excited energy, although looking a little more subdued. Not only was this girl super pretty and friendly, but she also seemed decently smart. Maybe Janis was wrong about these girls.

“Whatever.” Regina looked at the two girls suspiciously. She tossed the food bar onto the table and stood up. “I’m getting cheese fries. Y/n, come with me.”

Taken back by the sudden command, Y/n stumbled out of her seat and followed Regina. Cady’s eyes followed her until she was out of sight, and she sighed quietly when she couldn’t catch a glimpse of the girl anymore. 

“So!” Gretchen startled Cady with her enthusiastic voice and a hand on her shoulder. As she turned to look at her, Cady realized that Karen was also gone from the table. She must’ve gone to the bathroom or somewhere else. “Have you seen anyone you think is cute yet?”

Cady didn’t know how to answer. There was definitely one person that came to mind, but she didn’t know if she should say the name. Gretchen might react badly if Cady told her, which would most likely lead to her getting kicked out of the Plastics.

But at the same time, she didn’t want to lie. 

“Well… there’s this one.. girl.” The last word was quiet and hesitant, but Gretchen picked up on it.

“Oh my gosh, who is it?” She asked excitedly. “Do you think it’s just like, a phase, or is it more serious?”

“I dunno.” Cady shrugged. “I haven’t known her too long to be sure.”

“Who is it?” Gretchen leaned forward in her seat, completely invested in Cady’s answer. It took the redhead a long moment of hesitancy to open her mouth.

“It’s Y/n…”

“No!” Gretchen straightened up, looking absolutely horrified. She looked around, ensuring none of the other girls were back yet. “You can’t like Y/n. Not only is she a part of the group, but… Okay, you didn’t hear this from me, and you’re, like, totally forbidden from ever bringing it up. But Regina is really possessive over Y/n. They’ve been best friends for, like, forever, and Regina chases off anyone who tries to so much as ask her out. And it’s not my place to say whether or not it’s more than friendship, but if I had to say something, there’s definitely something going on between them.” Gretchen took a much-needed breath, shaking her head slightly to clear her jumbled thoughts. “Look, the point is, you shouldn’t date friends. Especially Regina’s friends. But don’t worry, I’ll never tell Regina or Y/n what you said. It’ll be our little secret.”

Gretchen gave Cady a sweet smile, and that seemed to be the end of their little conversation. But for the next few days, Cady kept thinking about it.

She didn’t want to get on Regina’s bad side. That would mean no more things to tell Janis and Damian and no more seeing Y/n. And she also didn’t want to freak Y/n out. But just because Cady wasn’t allowed to like Y/n didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to look at her. Or think about her. Or talk to her.

A few days later, when Cady was with Janis and Damian at the mall, Janis asked when Cady would see Regina next. She said it felt weird to spy on her and that she didn’t want to do it anymore. And sure, it being weird was part of why she wanted to stop. But mainly, it was because Cady had started getting so distracted by Y/n that it was difficult to focus on Regina. Which was strange, because the blonde girl was so alluring. But Janis reassured Cady that Regina would never find out about her double agent status, that it would be their little secret.

So many secrets.

***

“Hello?” Cady held the phone up to her ear, wondering who was calling her at this late hour.

“I know your secret.” Cady stiffened at Regina’s voice coming through the speaker. She internally panicked, trying to figure out what to do. How did Regina figure out about Cady’s spying?

“Secret?” She decided that playing it cool was the better move. “What secret?”

“Gretchen told me that you like Y/n.” Cady relaxed at the fact that Regina had learned about her other secret, before freezing again. Right now, she wondered if it would be better if Regina knew about the spying. “I mean, I don’t care, do whatever you want.” Regina didn’t sound like she didn’t care, but Cady didn’t bring it up. “But let me just tell you something about Y/n: She’s, like, never gone on a date before. It’s not that she’s not pretty or anything, but no one’s ever really been good enough for her.”

“Oh?” What did this mean? Did Regina deem Cady good enough for Y/n after so many others tried and failed? Or was this a set-up?

Honestly, Cady was so happy for Regina’s blessing that she didn’t really care.

“I could talk to her for you, if you want.”

“Really? You would do that?”

“We’ve been friends since like, pretty much birth. I know exactly how to play it.” There was a moment of silence, and Cady could picture Regina picking at her nails. “But wait. Aren’t you mad at Gretchen for telling me? Because if you are, you can tell me. It was a really bitchy thing for her to do.”

“Yeah, it was pretty bitchy, but I’m not mad.” Cady was a little mad, but she didn’t feel like saying that. “I mean, it’s better she told you instead of Y/n. I dunno, I guess she just likes the attention.” Cady didn’t know why she said that last part, but it had just spilled out of her mouth.

“See, Gretch? I told you she’s not mad at you.” Cady was a bit confused, but then another voice spoke.

“I can’t believe you think I like attention!” There was a click, and Cady assumed the Gretchen had hung up. She had no idea she was even listening.

“Okay, love you. See you tomorrow!” Cady could hear Regina’s smile, and then there was another click followed by a dial tone, showing that Cady was now the only one on the line. She then hung up herself, processing the three-way call she had just survived.

And then after that, Cady realized that she had gotten Regina’s blessing to try to pursue Y/n.

***

“What day is it?” Y/n asked, looking down at her worksheet. She didn’t usually do homework at lunch, but lately, some of her classes had been kicking her ass. 

“It’s October third,” Cady answered almost immediately, catching the suspicious eyes of Regina and Gretchen.

“Thanks, Cady,” Y/n said, looking up at the girl and giving her a sweet smile before returning to her paper.

“I dunno why you don’t just ask one of the Mathlete dorks to do it for you,” Regina said, looking over Y/n’s shoulder. “They’d probably even do it for free.”

“We’ve talked about this, Regina. If my teacher didn’t catch on, it would still totally bite me in the ass when I’d have to do a test all by myself.”

“You need help with math?” Cady asked, subtly leaning closer to Y/n. The girl looked at Cady, now completely distracted from her work.

“Yeah! I used to get it, but trig is crazy hard.” Y/n sighed, delicately rubbing at her tired eyes so she didn’t mess up her makeup. “I feel like I’m never gonna get it.”

“I can help you!” Cady said, excited over this opportunity. She had always excelled in mathematics, and now Y/n needs help with that exact subject? It seemed like fate.

“Really?” Both Y/n and Cady missed the slight glare that Regina was giving them. 

“Oh right, Cady’s like, a total nerd.” They also chose to ignore Regina’s snide comment before sipping her Diet Coke.

“That would be amazing, Cady! Maybe I could come over after school today or something?”

Cady was about to say yes, a million times yes, but Regina butted in.

“Y/n, you’re coming over to my house today.” It didn’t really feel like Regina was reminding her of forgotten plans. Instead, it sounded like Regina was coming up with a reason for Y/n to be unavailable. Cady’s suspicions were confirmed by the confused look Y/n gave the blonde.

“I am?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh… Well, how about tomorrow?”

“Perfect!” Cady spoke quickly and enthusiastically before Regina could say another word.

***

Over the next month or so, Cady tutored Y/n a few days every week. It quickly became their favorite part of their days. After helping with a few problems Y/n was stuck on, the two girls would get distracted by conversations about whatever they wanted to talk about. Neither of them felt the need to filter themselves in fear of being made fun of by one of the other Plastics, mainly Regina. Topics ranged from the latest gossip to future plans to their favorite things in media. If Cady had never heard of something Y/n brought up, which was the case nine times out of ten, the tutoring session would turn into a movie night or music party.

“Oh my gosh, so…” Y/n and Cady were in the middle of watching a chick flick that Cady had never seen when Y/n suddenly spoke. “I’m having a Halloween party at my place. We usually do it at Regina’s, but for some reason, she didn’t feel like doing it this year. Are you gonna come?” 

“Yeah, sure.” Cady’s response made Y/n smile brightly, a sight that Cady could never get sick of.

“Awesome!” Y/n sat up from her slouched position, her excitement waking her up from her slightly tired state. “It’s a costume party, which’ll be a lot of fun. I can give you a flier with all the info tomorrow. Even though I know you’re invited, you need the flier to get in. It only admits one person, so don’t bring anyone else with you.”

“Grool.” Y/n blinked in slight confusion, and Cady realized what she had said. “I… I meant to say ‘cool,’ and then I started to say ‘great.’”

Y/n giggled, which made Cady’s cheeks heat up.

“Right. Well, grool.” The two laughed, and then Y/n looked down at her watch. “Oh my gosh, it’s so late. I should probably get going.” With the help of Cady, Y/n gathered her things. “See you tomorrow!” In a flash, Y/n kissed Cady’s cheek before walking out of the room and leaving Cady’s house. Cady’s cheeks felt like they were on fire, and she lightly touched the cheek Y/n had kissed.

***

One thing that no one told Cady was that on Halloween, many girls opted for very revealing costumes rather than actual costumes. So when she arrived at Y/n’s house, she stuck out like a sore thumb in her dead bride attire while her friends wore tight clothes and animal ears.

“Why are you so scary?” Gretchen asked with concern, looking at Cady’s appearance with wide eyes.

“It’s Halloween,” Cady said with a shrug, not knowing what the problem was.

Suddenly, a hand touched Cady’s arm, making her jump. But she quickly relaxed when she saw who was touching her.

“You came!” Y/n squealed, bringing Cady in for a hug. The redhead felt a bit flustered by the contact, plus seeing Y/n in her slightly revealing outfit. When they broke the embrace, Y/n held Cady by the shoulders, surveying her outfit. “And you’re a… zombie bride…?”

“An ‘ex-wife.’” Cady replied, using her fingers to air quote.

“Well, I love it.” Y/n finally let go of Cady, although she wouldn’t have been opposed if she kept holding onto her. “You want something to drink?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll be right back.” 

Y/n squeezed Cady’s arm for a quick moment before turning around. She weaved her way through the crowd to get to the kitchen, where a shit load of different drinks were scattered on the counters. She started mixing a drink for Cady when she felt a presence behind her.

“What the hell is Cady wearing?” Regina asked, squinting to see Cady from across the room.

“She’s a zombie bride!”

“She looks like a freak.”

“Regina!” Y/n set down the bottle she was pouring and looked at the blonde. “Be nice.”

“Whatever.” Regina rolled her eyes, pushing her hair off her shoulder before leaning on the kitchen counter. “You know, you should probably be careful around her. She has a giant crush on you.”

“What?” Y/n’s eyes snapped to Regina, immediately curious. “How do you know?”

“She told me. She tells everybody. It’s kinda cute, to be honest. She’s like a little girl.” Regina laughed, and Y/n tilted her head and raised her brows, silently asking for more details. “Like, she writes ‘Y/n plus Cady’ and stuff like that all over her notebook. And she made this shirt that says ‘I heart Y/n’ and she wears it under all of her clothes.

“Oh, come on.” Y/n sighed and rolled her eyes, figuring Regina had been joking. “That’s not funny, Regina.”

“I’m serious! She’s, like, obsessed with you. And who can blame her?” Regina’s hand reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair away from Y/n’s face. When Y/n looked at her friend, she was suddenly closer than before. “I mean, you’re gorgeous.”

“Regina.”

“If I’m being honest… I hate the way she looks at you.” Regina grabbed Y/n’s chin before she could look away, forcing them to maintain eye contact. “It makes me sick. She should know better than to think she has a chance with you.”

“What are you saying, Regina?” Y/n’s voice was barely a whisper, but the blonde heard her loud and clear despite being in a crowded room with blasting music and semi-drunk teenagers.

“I’m saying you’re mine, Y/n.” With every word, Regina inched closer and closer. “I don’t want you to be with Cady. Or with anyone else.” 

Regina closed the small gap between her and Y/n’s lips, wrapping her arms around Y/n’s body to keep her close. After the wave of shock washed over her, Y/n reciprocated the kiss. Neither of them cared about any of the people around them watching. Including Cady, who watched from across the room with watery eyes and a breaking heart. 

Cady had lost Y/n to a competition she didn’t even know she had. Y/n had finally gotten the girl she had been wanting for years after being kept at arm’s length away. And Regina had once again ruined someone else’s happiness for her own.

***

Regina George Taglist: @wedfan2 @pyro-les @natashamaximoff-69

[ment-llyunstable]

Sugar on the Cream!

Alastor x Reader Synopsis: Alastor found out about your powers and decided to take matters into his own hands to reestablish who's in charge at this hotel and that he was perfectly capable of destroying you. A warning to not try any funny business, though who's to say he didn't find the threat of you being more powerful absolutely enticing. Themes: +18, Slight Dubious Consent, Bondage, Breeding Kink, A/B/O Dynamics, Dominant Alpha Alastor, Alastor feeling threatened, Reader with Deal Breaking ability, AFAB Chubby Reader, G/N Omega Reader, Black Bear Reader, Cervix Penetration, Stomach Bulge, Knotting Word Count: 4,195

A/N: Not beta read!! Also, I know Alastor is canonically aro/ace. As someone who is aro/ace, I enjoy the representation. This is fiction for funsies. Being aro/ace doesn't mean you can't have sexual relations or romantic ones. Respectfully, we should recognize we all ship characters with whatever sexuality is canon, with the opposite of that canon. Like Hob Gadling x Dream of the Endless. Canonically, Dream has only ever been with women, he had a wife, etc. Like, let's not try and pretend we don't disrespect canons all the time and stop trying to be 'allies' or 'heroes'. It's fiction. It's not the Hat fic and writing like this isn't invalidating aro/ace ppl in any way imo. If it was, we could say all the Bakugou x Deku shit is invalidating the obvious crush Deku has on Ochako so we should all stop then, huh? Naw. My opinion so whatever. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Let me know if I should continue. Got a few ideas for this. but nothing concrete.

"𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄'𝙢 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙚, 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙨 𝙦𝙪𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙪𝙣. 𝙊𝙝, 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙣!"

You weren’t sure how you got yourself into this situation. Well, you knew how, but to have the Radio Demon with his full attention on you, hand down your pants with fingers teasing and coaxing blood to the tiny nub of pleasure to life, was something you’d never thought would or could happen. You’d even witness him actively avoiding all physical contact around the others and keeping a distance between them at all times. You’d only ever seen Nifty be the only one who could lay a hand on him without him looking like he was repulsed behind gritted teeth.

You thought he was just annoyed by you as a person, but the dots slowly clicked as your mind raced to think of what could have possibly required him to want to entertain you in this way. The only thing you could think of was the Radio demon had heard you expressing your powers, in private, to Charlie. You knew it had been best to do so alone, not wanting to become a pawn to any prying ears, especially as an unclaimed omega. You didn’t think your powers would’ve been one to issue such a strong, sexual response from the demon whom you’d heard wasn’t interested in such flights of fancy. Plus, it wasn’t like you knew really how to use it as well and it wasn’t like you had been the nicest smelling omega around. You had only been staying at the hotel at most about four months, only discovering it after the whole fight the hotel had against Heaven.

Alastor’s claws must’ve been retractable, the digits were meticulously placed with firm pressure, switching between circling and up-and-down motion on your throbbing button. He leniently alternated to stroking around the bud and a bit down, not quite to your entrance, but in an attentive manner to figure out what you fancied. You could hear soft jazz in the background. You’d been placed upon his lap, facing away from him with both of your thighs on each side of his, those long legs of his making it difficult to try and close yours. You were trapped in the spot by onyx tentacles; one wrapped around each calf and a thicker one that squished into your plush stomach. Alastor’s free arm was wrapped-up around your upper torso, his large hand grasping your neck as if to dare you to try and escape. Your scent was rising in the air, the smell of chamomile, frankincense and sandalwood clouded the room. It was tainted with the sweetness of arousal, usually a more subtle scent combination for an omega but you’d never heard any complaints. For Alastor though, it was overbearing on his senses - it had reminded him too much of his human life and now to have it unfiltered between you was near deadly. Oh, how it fueled a fire you didn’t even know was there. Sure, you could appreciate the handsome, charming demeanor that was inherently Alastor, though his off-putting behavior and remarks had been enough to warrant a bit of distance. You were just at the hotel to help sinners and by the sounds of Alastor’s cackling of others pain, you could grasp easily you were not on the same page. There had been no need to engage besides pleasantries and his passive, condescending mannerisms was a deterrent. 

But, here you were with your pussy being flirted with by someone who you should be absolutely terrified of. However, you weren’t though, you weren’t dumb enough to not be cautious. If you were correct on your assumption, you knew you held a sort of bargaining chip he wanted, which had been the initial interest in you. You had been unsure if his intentions had been only business, nevertheless this event was telling more had been involved and brewing in Alastor’s head. This situation wasn’t supposed to be happening to begin with. He’d tempted you into a simple chat in his radio tower, only to corner you like this. If anything, you’d hoped he would have fessed up and tried to make amendments for his strange and creepy stalking behaviors. You knew he wouldn’t apologize for the added passive aggressiveness he displayed when having to interact with you so that was out of the question. 

“Do you think you can get in the way of my charity project here? Do you think you have the right to threaten me?”

Alastor asked this, his radio filtered voice animated and joyful though it covered obvious annoyance. 

The pressure of two of his fingers were becoming more intense as he sped up. A warm tingle spread like wildfire from your fingertips to your toes, igniting every nerve ending in a fiery blaze. Your heart raced in your chest, a primal drumbeat of desire that pulsed through your veins with a delicious urgency. You couldn’t stop the gentle, breathy pants that escaped your parted lips, hips twitching.  You could feel the gentle caressing of his breath on top of your head and forehead, his lithe body being much taller and bigger than your plump, small one, so he had to crouch over your form. He was watching you with zealous eyes and a fervid smile. 

“N-No, of course not. That’s not why I came to the hotel, Alastor. I wa… I wanted to help Charlie.” 

You weren’t lying. Your ability came with smaller powers that were much more laidback than breaking soul deals.  Sure, you had a few souls under your belt from when you’d first arrived in hell and unleashed your Justice upon one unlucky demon who you saw treat those who he owned unfairly and abusively. It had been the leader of a small gang that had been trying to establish a selling ground and you'd walked by to see the leader beating on a smaller demon who was desperately trying to explain that they'd gotten robbed. The anger you’d felt came out and it unleashed your wrath, a manifestation of a sword that cut through the chains. Those poor souls you set free gave you theirs as payment, seeing you’d never do such harm to them like that, that they could be free and never scared into having to sell their soul again to some awful sinner. You made sure they never told anyone of your powers and that they could have their freedom without you dictating or needing them. Your secret was safe. You had learned enough in your time in Hell to know how a sinner became an Overlord and the politics around it. That just wasn't your cup of tea. Nonetheless, you had the additional ability to manipulate auras though you’d only ever used it to calm potential attackers or anyone around you upset. It wasn’t anything too fancy or showy, but it had helped you more times than you could count. Considering yourself and other sinners, a calming energy would be helpful amongst the traumatized. You’d hoped Charlie would be able to use it when it came to her vision of redemption. To establish a safe place to heal, whether it turned to being able to redeem oneself or for just a healing journey. Dying and arriving in Hell was another round of trauma, it didn't hurt to try and work on healing.

Your gaze was all over the place despite wanting to look down to watch his hand in your pants but his grasp upon your neck prohibited in viewing such activities. You didn’t have enough focus to try and calm the radio demon but at this point, you didn’t think your manipulation to his aura would do anything. You hadn’t dared tried it since arriving and since he was already so worked up, it probably wouldn’t do much to deter him from his mission. The static radiating from his body penetrated yours, dancing amongst your skin in light prickles that had your little fuzzy ears cocked forward to listen.

“Oh, dearest. This is my entertainment. Not yours. I don’t enjoy thinking you may try to interfere or overthrow me — I advise you to not attempt your silly little powers on me.”

The grip on your neck tightened, his fingers picking up pace having already started feeling the wetness seep from you. Your arousal and exquisite pheromones were greedily inhaled by the cannibal, to savor the suggestion of a body ready for seed taking. It was a new urge for the radio demon to mark you with his seed, his scent and to taint you in such a ferocious manner. 

“My, my. How darling of you to be so quiet and submissive now. Are you frightened?” 

Alastor chuckled cheekily, the rumbling in his chest vibrated against your back. You honestly couldn’t care less about what he said, too focused on the quickening ministrations forced upon your now swollen clit. His own scent was filling the air, hitting your nostrils in gentle waves. He smelled of petrichor, the soothing scent before the rain hit the Earth. It was almost ironic.

Your breathing was shortening, the pleasure building with your lower muscles tightening. You weren’t scared at this point, especially feeling his hard dick pressed to your backside and his own arousal contaminating his natural scent. 

“Alastor— W-Wait, wait wait-…” Your face flushed with color, you closed your eyes trying to hold back your impending orgasm.

The male hummed, though didn’t stop his fingers as a black tendril slid its way from his side and down your trousers. The pointed appendage slid between your folds, teasing at your entrance. 

“I’m afraid there’s no waiting for you, my sweet. Now… cum for me.” 

He sounded humored at first, voice dropping an octave as he demanded you to reach your peak. As he said it, his tentacle shoved its way into your cunt, stretching and burying itself deep inside. That pushed you over the edge, the way the tentacle had pushed up against your cervix and caused you to come immediately. Your back arched, pressing back into him with eyes closed tightly and moan muffled by your own stubbornness with a bitten lip and flattened ears. Your cunt squeezed at the tentacle, earning attention from it by starting to move in and out of you with determination. The appendage fucked you through it, the high of your release trying to pass but instead once your cunt was fucked through your first orgasm, there was no stopping the tentacle from sending you straight into another. The second ripped through your body fast and harsh, the wetness audible to both of your ears. Your voice cut through the static with a sudden high-pitched moan, your thigh muscles quaking as you pressed your hips down against his. Alastor paid no mind to your squirming body in his lap, only removing the inky, wet tendril from your hole after your petite form relaxed, twitching from overstimulation.  

You were a complete mess at this point; face heated crimson with a light shine of sweat, bottom lip swollen from where you’d fought to keep yourself quiet, eyes half open and dazed. Alastor felt absolutely, utterly depraved seeing you like this. He could see you as equal to or more powerful than him - a righteous and conscientious mess. Never would he think someone so obviously pathetic would have such a power thus a power over him. He wanted you in more ways than one; to own you, to control you, and maybe to let you do the same with him. You’d be the only one who he could judge as worthy of such a thing, outright knowing you’d never give your soul to him. 

His hand on your throat released, clawed fingers slid down to the pants you wore and ripped through them easily. Underwear was shredded too, your wet and puffy cunt exposed to the cool air. You glanced down through blurry eyes, to the sight of Alastor using both hands now to grip onto your thighs. 

"What a performance! I'd say you deserve a reward for such a treat."

The deer demon used a shadowy tentacle to pull his cock out from between you both, the heavy shaft slapping up against your drenched slit. You jerked at the touch, still trying to catch your breath as you saw the tip of his cock leak, flushed with red and at the base was already the beginnings of a swollen knot. The shape was different than you’d thought it would be, the tip a notably large mushroom shape, the length connecting to it slender before flaring out larger in the middle before the rest of the length connected to the swollen knot. His scent was immensely clouding all your senses now, your omega body responding with profuse arousal. Oh, you wanted him now. It was undeniable of the chemistry of your two bodies, your inner omega preening at the idea of being so wanted and filled by such a strong Alpha. Your little black tail twitched eagerly, your small black ears pressing forward in alertness.

Alastor took your pause as the perfect opportunity to grind his hips up against you, his cock rubbing between your wetness, just slipping between the folds. You were trying to catch your breath still, eyes wide at the fact he must’ve been thinking his dick would fit. Your body was much smaller than his seven foot stature, surely he wouldn’t. 

But, he would try. This was power-play at its finest, Alastor wanted to assert his dominance and control over your body. He wasn’t keen on physical contact for sure, using rather violence to instill terror upon those who dare threaten his status. You, however, weren’t phased by his theatrics so now he had to take it into his own hands. You had the one ability that if you wanted to, you could either ruin or save Alastor and that pissed him the fuck off. 

"How cute. You're so wet for me."

The slick, lubricious sensation of his dick rubbing against you was utterly divine. You looked up at him, angling your head to the side with flickering eyes along his face. His scarlet eyes met yours, pupils dilated, his sinister grin stretched to its fullest to show his yellow-pointed teeth.

"P-Please-"

"Please, what? Hm? Speak up, you look stupid mumbling nothing."

Alastor opened his mouth, his long and pointed crimson tongue fell out to lick along your cheek. The muscle was smooth and only momentarily a distraction from him lifting your body up enough to start to bury the tapered head of his cock into your heat. Your body tensed at this regardless of the foreplay, your mushy and sopping cunt still resisting such an attempt of intrusion. 

“Mmf! Ha… Haa… Alastor it won't -”

“C’mon now, darling. I’m getting in one way or another~!”

He said this in a sing-song like voice, almost chastising you, static rising in sound near the end to emphasize his resolute and unwavering commitment to ensuring his dick would invade your tiny hole. Your head snapped forward, hands grasping on the armrests as some sort of stability. He used your body to bear down at the same time, your cunt forced to accommodate and stretch with a sweetened squeeze once the glans fit. The psychotic Overlord didn’t stop there, no. He knew you could take it, take pain and take what he could give you. 

Alastor didn’t give you a chance to soak in the way your pussy quivered in delight at being stretched so wide. He, instead, still holding at your plump waist and pulled you down no matter the resistance. His cock demanded your tight walls to envelope him, the swell of his appendage filling you quickly despite the inevitable ache. You were sure he wouldn’t get all the way down and he only paused once the tip of his dick hit your cervix. The absolute stretch and burn of the demons cock shoved you over the edge again in a premature yet strong climax of pleasure. 

“Oh, fuck!” 

You whined keenly, you nearly couldn’t stop cumming already, he was just so big that his length hit all the right bundles of nerves. Even now though, your pussy lips hadn’t swallowed him full nor reached the top of his knot. Your overly-sensitive and agitated clit thrummed between your legs, the frenzied spasms of your pussy’s muscles enticed a guttural snarl from him.

"Watch your language, omega. It's not very becoming of you."

Alastor’s sharp claws pricked at your clothing, digging more as he started moving your hips, to roll against his in a shallow motion. He didn’t lift you up too much, favoring to keep himself confined as deeply as he could. Your pussy walls made it incredibly hard for him, his focus on the way your pliable, tender cervix felt. Each hit of his tip was a kiss for your cervix to give in, to extend beyond normal measures and make your womb his. Your beseeching, eager moans and squeals left out of your lips, not bothering to saying anything. The sounds of your drenched pussy, strained sobs and skin meeting skin, were desirable compositions to the radio demon. 

“Sweetheart, your moans of ecstasy are like a melody to me. I must have you immerse me.”

Alastor dropped the radio filter just at the last word, voice lowered from he usual cheerful and velvety tone. You knew what he meant, your eyes widened with adrenaline and panic. You tried wiggling out of his grasp this time, the tentacles grip tightening and pulling taunt to stop you, the demon laughing in elation as he drove his cock deeper with an abrupt and harsh tug down. This time, the tender and swollen cushion of your cervix gave into his bullying cock, terribly uncomfortable yet endorphin releasing. 

You were fully seated on him basically limp, a passive and panting mess with dewy skin. Your raw pussy walls twitched and fluttered around his length, getting used to the strain. His large hands tenderly massaged your sides before merely resting on them. You could hear the static much louder now, his own breathing unbridled and heavy. You were sure if you looked down, no matter the soft meat on your tummy, it would be bulging from the sheer intrusion. You honestly couldn’t get your gaze to focus, overcome by the feeling of blissful fullness.

A drop of drool caught your attention, dripping onto your left shoulder and being absorbed by the dark sweater you wore. He was drooling over the tight, wet heat of your womb and overbeating want to mate you, nearly losing himself to his more demonic and feral form of himself with antlers elongating and scleras filling with black. 

“You don't realize what you've been doing to me. Angering me, not even confiding in me - a strong Alpha, of your powers. Always on my mind, always thinking of you. Seems like even now… You have me within your precious grasp, little bear.” 

Breathy, hungry  - the infernal Overlord shuddered underneath you. He started off easy, controlling your smaller, supple form with his grasp and demonic tentacles. He bounced you up and down his cock, only pulling you up enough to feel the crown of his glans hit the resistance of your cervix with a gratifying suck. It was like your pussy was trying to keep him inside, the walls felt like they were tightening every time he went to pull out whilst your juices leaked and slobbered over his stiff member. This drove the radio demon into an all-consuming, rageful want. 

The consuming urge to breed you heightened. He wanted you to smell of him, plump and well fed with a fawn inside your tummy. He already knew how fertile you were, mouth-watering pheromones lush with reminders. Alastor lifted you up, the shadowy tentacles holding on. His hips began thrusting up in a hurried pace. His cock pulled down on your cervix harshly, using your womb as his personal toy. His knot kept catching on your entrance, teasing your folds as a warning to what’s to come. 

Each gasp, each moan that escaped your lips was a symphony of ecstasy, a sweet melody of pleasure that echoed through the air like a siren's song. In that moment, you were lost in a whirlwind of sensation. Your every nerve ending alive with the intoxicating rush of pleasure. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss. You couldn't deny that there was something intoxicating about the whole situation; the way his body moved against yours, the way his tentacles wrapped around you, the way his breath felt against your skin and how he'd taken all of this pleasure unprovoked. It had been too long since your omegan needs had been drawn out, your heats spent alone and cold.

The radio demon was entranced, intoxicated with your sounds, scent and plushness against him. He couldn’t stop the rest of his obsidian tendrils from finding their way to various places on your body, whether it be wrapping around you or fondling and rubbing your chest, thighs and stomach. Alastor wanted you to know how powerful he was, how he could consume you in all his glorious ways, and be a considerable candidate for a mate. The deer was truly feeling some conflicted feelings. Despite his cruel and domineering actions, there was a part of him that seemed to crave your power, your ability to challenge him, maybe a harbinger for change. You wondered if this was what he truly needed, someone to stand up to him and show him that he wasn't invincible.

You could feel it building again, the all-consuming and concentrated passionate feeling of your sensitive cunt reaching its cumulation. 

"I'm going to e a t you."

It was too much, eyes tearful as you felt his cool, wet tongue swipe sloppily at your neck with a gnarling sound. He was lapping and putting pressure on your scent glands, gladly tasting at your sweetness. It was incredibly difficult to not seal this side of the deal, forcing you to have to consider being his mate and manipulated by your own body since the mating tie would have been halfway made if he bit you. His own Alpha chanted and growled 'My Omega. Mine!' internally. His jaw unhinged to latch fully onto the conjunction of your neck and shoulder just below your flavorful scent glands. Alastor’s fierce and sharp-edged teeth sunk in, blood oozing thickly from the puncture wounds. He sucked and kept hold of you like that, enamored with the erotic, ambrosial taste of your blood.  Your desperate mewling was nonstop.

"A-Alpha, am gonna cum!"

The pain threw you over the edge and you came hard on his thick cock, your gooey wetness squishing out of you with every snap of his hips. His rough and jarring thrusts increased to fuck you through it. Your pussy was milking him, tightening and releasing his swelling cock - for him was heavenly, pleasure building up as his final push over the peak. He yanked your body down on him to secure his already bloating knot in you earning a debauched, filthy wail from your throat. Your gummy cunt strained and enveloped around him entirely, widely, slipping over his knot as it popped achingly into you. Once inside, the knot expanded, getting larger and larger and forcing your body to accept the wide bulge as it plugged your cunt. Your body tensed with hands grasping at the poor cushion of the chairs arms, muscles shaking violently as you felt his awfully hot, viscous cum enter your womb, filling it full. As Alastor's thrusts slowed, his breathing becoming more even, you knew that this was just the beginning. The power struggle between you two was far from over, and you knew that you would have to be careful in how you handled it.

But for now, you allowed yourself to bask in the afterglow of the encounter, feeling the warmth of Alastor's body against yours, and the heat of his cum inside you. You were slack against him and he fully leaned over you, his cock still leaking in you and his tentacles all stroking and rubbing tenderly along your body. Alastor’s hands slid underneath your top and cupped your belly’s softness, feeling where his dick and cum rested inside you snuggly as he unlatched his mouth from you. Those lean hands massaged the supple, swollen flesh instigating little, satisfied whines from you as you reveled in the mixed scent of blood and sexual afterglow. You were so full of his cock and seed, you knew when his knot went down it would leak heavily out of you.

"Good omega. So good for me, little omega." Alastor nuzzled to your scent gland, avoiding the now drying wound right underneath.

In this moment, you felt a strange sense of intimacy with the radio demon. Despite everything that had happened, you couldn't help but feel a connection with him, a bond that was forged in the heat of the moment. You wondered what would happen next, whether this would be the start of something more, or if it would end here and now. Maybe he’d try to kill you off for good. Who knows.

[bgomtori]

☆ lover's rock - c.bg

synopsis - love wasn't something you believed in until you bumped into him while listening to your favourite band.

-> music major! beomgyu x art major! reader

-> love a first sight, college au!, artist x muse

-> warnings! slowburn, yn's dense, makeout session.

-> note! after i heard that beomgyu listens to cas, i screamed, my fav person and one of my fav bands :' also gyu day!! his birthday is literally 4 days before mine, i think it's fate 😂 jokes💀 hope you guys enjoy this :>

art, something that is enjoyed by many in various ways, through music, paintings or even poems. personally, you enjoyed art through your paintings, the ability to express yourself on a canvas with multiple hues of colours was fascinating to you, along with the soothing melody of music playing in the background. your mind wanders off as you immerse yourself in the current art project you had, your wrist moving slowly while you sketch on your prep board.

the library was quiet as usual, all types of students from different majors all gathered in one area to study or rush last minute work. you snapped yourself back into reality, aimlessly staring at the artpiece infront of you, your eyes feeling strained and dry, unable to keep itself open. that was your cue to pack up and leave, you stretched your aching body, slinging your bag over your shoulders as you left the library, placing your headphones over your ears, turning up the volume slowly, paying no attention to the surrounding area around you.

"ow, sorry." a voice sounded louder than what played in your headphones, you removed them, trying to be polite to the person you accidentally bumped into. "it's fine, i should have paid more attention to my surroundings." you bowed, before bending down to pick up your phone that was knocked away from your grasp.

"you listen to cigarettes after sex too?" you could hear the joy behind the male's voice, clearly thrilled to find out that a person listens to the same band as him. you nodded your head, "you like them too?"

"yea of course! i've been listening to them since they released their first album." he smiled, his eyes shimmering despite the dimly lit hallway you were standing in. "that's cool, what's your name? maybe we can talk more."

"beomgyu, choi beomgyu. how about you? i've seen you around the art building before." he replied, shooting the question back at you, "yn, hope to see you around next time." you smiled at him, wanting to leave already.

"wait, what's your number? you seem cool, i mean you are cool especially since you listen to cas. i just want to talk to someone like you." beomgyu stuttered, his face turned away from you as he held his phone towards you, displaying the contact list to you. you laughed softly, typing in your number, along with your name and an emoji.

"text me anytime, i'll try my best to reply." you waved, leaving a stranded beomgyu in the middle of a dark hallway, his eyes never leaving your disappearing figure. without even noticing, his lips tugged up into a smile, finally someone he could relate to, he could already feel the connection between the both of you. call him crazy, but he thinks that you would be best friends by the end of the semester.

and that dream became a reality. all starting from a text message from beomgyu, sending you a playlist he created of his favourite songs from all his favourite bands. something as little as a playlist warmed your heart, who would actually take the time and effort to create a playlist for a stranger they barely knew. and this was the starting point of your everlasting friendship. the way that he would often make his way to the art studio, despite his music studio being a 10 minutes away from it, he is willing to walk that distance for you, with your favourite drink in hand.

"you're class ended 15 minutes ago, how are you here so fast?" you opened the door for beomgyu, letting him into the art studio, locking it in the process. beomgyu stared at the current piece you were working in, completely awed by how pretty the artwork was.

"you're so good at this." ignoring your previous question, placing his bag down on the ground, taking a seat beside your canvas. you sighed, knowing beomgyu would never reveal the reason why he's always so quick to find you.

"have you listened to their latest single?" beomgyu asked, scrolling through his playlist, specifically made for music of his taste. you shook your head, "i didn't even know that they released a new song." beomgyu looked at you as if you grew another head.

"you're missing out, oh my god." beomgyu gasped, immediately playing the song, 'bubblegum.' by cas. a familiar yet different sounding melody filled your eardrums as you listened intently to the song beomgyu was showing you.

"it's nice." you found yourself humming to the lyrics, sketching on the canvas that was infront of you. "right, they never disappoint." beomgyu agreed, trying to find another song to add to the queue.

"gyu–" beomgyu looked up at the sound of his voice, his eyes blinking at you slowly, waiting for you to complete your sentence, "why, don't you talk to your other friends about music?" it has been a question on your mind ever since you've became friends with beomgyu, you've noticed how he doesn't talk much about his interest and taste in music to the guys compared to when he is with you.

"oh." his response was dry, making you think that you've said something hurtful.

"uhm, i didn't mean it, i guess it's slightly insensitive, forget that i asked that." you stammered, your face getting warm due to the embarrassment you were facing.

"you didn't say anything wrong, don't worry." he reassured, giving you a small smile.

"it's just that they don't share the same taste as me, so i can't really talk to them about my passion and interest in music. it's fine though! i've finally met you, so i'm alright with that." beomgyu admitted, his eyes practically glowing under the bright light in the art studio. your heart raced, butterflies filling your stomach, how cute could he be to make you feel like this. you've never believed that love was something for you, every single person you've liked has rejected you, clearly beomgyu wouldn't be any different.

"when is this due?" beomgyu questioned, his finger tapping on your canvas.

"in 2 weeks, why?" your head tilting in confusion as beomgyu's lips tugged into a mischievious smirk, "let's dip, you still have plenty of time to complete that."

"what? no. i need to–"

"no you don't, let's go to a vinyl shop, i know a place." beomgyu grabbed your hand, pulling you up from your seat. you screeched, telling him to wait, since your things were scattered around the studio. beomgyu chuckled, releasing your wrist, watching you frantically pack everything into your bag.

"i hate you." you grumbled, glaring at beomgyu while locking the door to your art studio. beomgyu laughed, his hand landing atop your head, stroking your hair, "quit grumbling, let's go."

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

"what took you so long?" you removed a side of your earbud, looking up at beomgyu who was staring at your with an apologetic look on his face. "i've not been to the campus's library in months, so i kinda got lost.." his eyes averting your gaze, cheeks warming up due to the embarrassment. you laughed at him softly, patting the seat beside you.

"do you always come to the library on your free time?" beomgyu whispered, placing his bag on the ground, grabbing his laptop at the same time. you nod your head, fingers quickly typing out the 5000 word essay that was due the following day. beomgyu frowned, noticing how you have yet to give him any attention from the moment he sat down beside you.

beomgyu sighed into the palm of his hand, pushing his chair closer to yours, your shoulders coming into contact with one another, knees brushing against each other's occassionally. you could feel beomgyu's eyes burning holes into your soul, causing you to turn to face him, unaware of how close you guys were. your eyes widened, along with his, your face about a centimeter away from his. lips barely touching, his hot breath fanning against your face, eyes boring into yours.

"sorry.." beomgyu coughed, turning away from you, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"it's fine." you choked out, still thinking about what just happened, unable to think straight, you hastily finished your essay, not caring on whether it was perfect or not, and switched your laptop off.

"let's go to the vinyl store, i need more vinyls." you packed your bags, trying your best not to look into beomgyu's eyes, knowing that you'll instantly malfunction under his gaze. however, just as you had that thought in mind, beomgyu grabbed onto your wrist, making you pause your actions.

"wait, i have something for you." beomgyu removed his grip from your wrist, pulling a small box from his bag, placing it in your hand.

"open it." he whispered, eyes looking at the box and back at you, excited for you to open up the surprise gift he bought for you. you untied the cute little ribbon on the box before lifting up the lid of the tiny box, only to see a cute bracelet staring back at you, the star-shaped charm gleaming prettily, it's colours so plain yet so charming.

"it's pretty." was all your said, but beomgyu has known you long enough to understand that you don't talk that much when you see something you like so much, but your express it through your body language and facial expression. he could see the way your eyes lit up, ane how your lips tugged up to a slight smile without noticing. beomgyu grinned, watching as you slipped the bracelet on your wrist.

"let's go?" you asked, snapping beomgyu out of his daze.

"yea sure." his hands grabbing onto yours, acting as if he doesnt care, but his mind was a hectic mess. he could see your clueless expression through his peripheral vision, doe eyes staring at his hand on yours. beomgyu swore that his heart was going to jump out any moment, his ears turning to a soft hue of read, you were definitely going to be the death of him.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

time flies whenever you're with beomgyu, without even realising it has already been months since your first interaction. by this time, you've finally grown accustomed to your growing feelings for the male, from his appearance to his passion in music, everything about him was perfect. even your friends caught on to your lovesick ways, also talking to beomgyu from time to time just to see if he was suitable for you, only for them to say that you're dense. you couldn't even believe soobin when he told you that beomgyu hasn't been like this around his past lovers, lies, was what you told soobin, laughing at how ridiculous it sounded, just to see soobin shaking his head, telling you that it's true.

every now and then, beomgyu would invite you over to his dorm if he's too lazy to go over to yours, and behind closed doors, blocking out the noise happening in the living room due to the boys loud yelling, the both of your just listened to your shared playlist in silence. it may not seem like much, but this activity calms you down, resting your head against the bed frame while beomgyu lays on his pillow, scrolling through his phone.

lovers rock, the song you recommended him since the start of your friendship. the sound of the electric guitar slowly fading into the quiet atmosphere, your fingers subconsciously tap against your phone to the beat, humming along with the melody.

"look at this tiktok, it reminds me of us." beomgyu chuckled, his arm extended to show you the cute tiktok on his phone. you took some time to process that he was trying to show you something before turning your head towards his phone, "oh my god, stop shaking." you grumbled, grabbing onto his phone, your hand laying on top of his.

the video contained two cats hugging each other as they had earbuds in their ear, listening to music, perfectly picturing the exact event happening right now. your stomach felt funny, biting your lips as you fought back the largest smile ever. "yea, that's us." you giggled, this feeling was euphoric, the way your smile is immediately reciprocated makes you feel like you've won a marathon, how this man has you completely wrapped around his finger...

beomgyu hummed, a hint of joy hidden behind his voice as he turned to his side to face the wall. your eyes flickered onto beomgyu's figure, your body slowly edging towards him unconsciously.

"hmm?" beomgyu sounded, feeling your head pressing against his back, you forcefully pushed his head away, preventing him to look at you, "i'm tired." you yawned, wrapping your arm around his waist loosely, growing more comfortable against his warmth. beomgyu could hear his own heartbeat, loud and clear, afraid that you could hear it too. your eyes fluttered close, on the verge of falling asleep.

"yn." beomgyu called, his body shifted around to face you, you looked up at him groggily, waiting for him to say something. beomgyu's mouth turned dry, completely forgetting the words that he wanted to tell you.

"ah, forget it, rest well." swallowing the lump in his throat, he watched as you nodded your head, falling back to sleep. he stared at the wall behind you in frustration, his mind only filled with thoughts of you, and how he was going to confess to you.

ever since he told his friends about his undying love for you, all they did was to push him into confessing because he'd be a pussy if he didn't, and to convince his friends that he isn't one, he has to tell you soon. currently, his phone was raided with a bunch of notifications from his group chat, all of them asking when he was going to tell you.

heeseung : stop pussying it, just say it.

beomgyu : it's not that simple 😐 and she's asleep right now

jeongin : you had all the time in the world to say it just now, and you wasted it.

beomgyu : ok shut up, maybe later.

"so fucking annoying.." he groaned softly, turning his phone off, staring off into the distance again.

"what's annoying?" you yawned a question, woken up by beomgyu's rapid typing and groans in annoyance from earlier. beomgyu looked at you in shock, praying that you didn't see any of the messages he exchanged with his friends.

"ah, nothing." beomgyu shrugged it off, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"yn, i have something to tell you." he suddenly sat up, causing you to flinch, "what is it?" following his actions.

"do you believe in love at first sight?" the sudden question about love caught you off guard, you played around with the bracelet beomgyu previoudly gave you, unable to come up with a response. your silence made beomgyu nervous, was it too random? he stared off to the side of his room.

"i didn't believe it at first, but i guess i think it's possible." you replied, the back of your neck feeling warmer by the second, afraid that you'd accidentally slip out a confession. beomgyu looked at you as if you grew two heads, he knew you weren't fond of love, and would much rather focus on your future art career. he was slightly curious, and extremely jealous of this person who managed to steal your heart.

"who?"

"who..?"

"who is this person that changed your mind." his tone sounding harsher than he intended to, maybe becausr he didn't want to lose you to any other guy who didn't deserve you. your throat was dry, it was to either tell him the truth or lie about your feelings for him. however, you didn't want to miss out on this opportunity, i mean what could be worse than getting rejected in his own dorm. you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, licking your lips,

"you."

"what?"

"it's you, ever since you bumped into me when i was making my way out of the library." you confessed, feeling yourself crumble, knowing that beomgyu is watching you intently. on the other hand, beomgyu didn't believe his ears, his mind going haywire at the thought that you liked him back, not even paying attention to your rambling.

"i don't know if this is the right time to confess, i mean i guess it was just the heat of the moment.. i'm sorry if i made you uncomf–" your eyes widened at the sudden contact on your lips, slowly blinking to register the situation that's happening. what felt like fireworks in your stomach, your eyes naturally closed, reciprocating the kiss, your hand placed on top of beomgyu's, slightly gripping onto it. beomgyu smiled into the kiss, his free hand landing on your waist, pulling you closer to him.

beomgyu pulled away, causing you to whine, wanting more. beomgyu couldn't help but giggle at how desperate you were.

"more.." you sighed out, wrapping your arms around beomgyu's neck, tilting your head as you connected your lips against his. his lips tasted like strawberries, his favourite fruit, and also the chapstick that he steals from your occassionally, he was perfect. you pulled away, catching your breath, placing your forehead against beomgyu's.

"guess we picked the best song to kiss to." beomgyu chuckled, you quirked your eyebrow, not understanding what he meant, until you heard what the lyrics meant. you giggled, nuzzling your head into beomgyu's neck.

"it's perfect."

she might wanna kiss

before the end of this song..

perm taglist! (send an ask to be added) @mrsyawnzzn @tinyelfperson @woncheecks @boba-beom @naveries @be-argyu @defnotleee

[inky-duchess]

Writing Characters with Glasses

Glasses are one of those components in writing that one just knows whether the writer has any experience with or not from the offset. So how do we write glasses-wearing characters or characters with impaired vision?

What is your character's eye strength?

Now, you don't have to know your character's exact diagnoses but you should know what sightedness your character has. Near-sighted means your character has trouble seeing things far way but can see things up close. Far-sightedness means a character can see things better in the distance than they can in before them.

Typically, one eye can be weaker or stronger than another, so a lense may be slightly thicker or slimmer than the other. Myself, my left eye is much weaker than my right.

Wearing Glasses

Typically when you wear glasses, you start to ignore the frames in your peripheral vision, however if you may notice it more if you haven't been wearing your glasses for a while.

Also when you change lenses, your sight is funny for a while. Things, like the fucking ground itself, seem a lot closer which can lead you to feel very disoriented. Its best to break glasses in gradually, in the words of Our Lady, Theresa Manion, "Do not make unnecessary journeys, do not take risks on treacherous roads..."

Glasses can get dirty and smudged very easily and do require cleaning. You may often see somebody wipe their glasses with their shirt tail but this isn't always effective, some fabrics just worsen the issue. Dry tissue paper is the best or a glass cloth. Frames also should be cleaned too.

Glasses tend to fog up when it rains, when you sweat or when you're somewhere steamy or drinking/eating something really hot. It can be a nuisance but it usually won't impair your vision that much.

Glasses can strain your eyes and start to chafe after a while. Long periods of wearing glasses can make your eyes start to ache (it always happens to me) and the best thing to do is just remove them and rest your eyes. The frames can also rub against the tops of your ears or the bridge of your nose.

People who need glasses tend not to remove them very often. If your vision is very bad, you won't be whipping your glasses off at every opportunity like Horatio Caine. If you only need reading glasses or need glasses for specific tasks you, wouldn't wear them 24/7 as it can further damage your eyes (I did this and now I can barely see 4ft ahead of me).

You can do tasks without your glasses but you do feel more cautious, especially if you have difficulty making out details. Glasses usually make you more comfortable in situations.

And as for the whole pushing up glasses when they slip (and they do slip but gradually), there's no right way or wrong way. Personally, I adjust by moving the entire frame between my thumb and forefinger so I don't smudge the lense. But pushing it up by the bar that crosses your nose is also effective.

When you're not wearing glasses

Not wearing glasses isn't delibiltating if your character's sight isn't majorly mad. As I mentioned before, they can still carry out tasks. But not wearing glasses can leave you a little unsure and sometimes disoriented.

Most people can still see without glasses, things just aren't as focused. For me, things get very fuzzy especially if they are far away but I can still make out the shape - for example, I can see how many fingers you're holding up but not your ring. I can do a lot of tasks without glasses.

When you're not wearing your glasses, you do tend to squint which can help you see a little better or tend to lift things to your eyes to see them better.

Characters wearing glasses

If your character loses their glasses in a fight, they won't be unable to fight back. They can likely still see some things.

Glasses hurt when knocked from your face, you can cut or bruise from a blow to the glasses. (it's happened to me which is why I have a massive scar on my forehead).

Your character will likely dislike going to the optician. Getting your eyes looked into by a stranger with a torch is irritating. Buying new glasses is a long drawn out hellish experience.

Breaking your glasses will upset your character, mainly because they're expensive. A character may opt to get the glasses fixed instead of replaced.

Your character will keep their glasses near at all times. Sleeping, they will be in reach. In the shower, they will be somewhere close by. Glasses may your more confident in your ability so they will always be near.

Also your character will likely not store their glasses in a pocket (they can break) or on their heads (your hair can smudge the lenses).

If your character has one of those early 2000s rom-com moments where their glasses are removed so the world can see their "true beauty", yeah that isn't a thing. Now that person can't fucking see.

Also, your character will likely hate anybody grabbing their glasses or wanting to try them on.

[infamous-if]

To Gender Select, or to Not Gender Select

So as everyone knows, I'm using the opportunity for this rewrite to really step back and look at what I have so far. I have just subscribed to the whole "follow my gut" thing and for the last two months or so, my gut has been telling me something.

For context, I created Orion (and I have mentioned this a couple times when I first opened this blog) that he came to me fully formed. While other ROs were more of a puzzle that appeared more and more fleshed out with every detailed I added, Orion was like a jenga block tower that grew more and more unsteady every time I changed a detail about him. He just came to me exactly as he was and I didn't really think beyond that. For example, with G, pieces of both Gina and Griffin came to me at the same time and G isn't G without both versions. With Orion he was just...Orion.

But lately—and this was not without many suggestions asking for it!—I've been playing around with the idea of a female version of his character.

One of my biggest things was to make sure that this wasn't a matter of just changing a variable. When it comes to my gender selectable ROs, I want to make sure I'm including the subtleties and nuances that come with being a man/woman in the public eye, especially for O. Their route is heavily centered around the idea of professionalism and...other things I can't mention and I think it'd be super interesting to add another component of being a woman, not only typically stern and taciturn but in a dominant position in music mostly taken up by men. Which is why, in the rewrite, there will be lines that are unique to Orion and unique to her. Reactions that are different, conversations that change. People who continue to romance Orion will prob not see a difference.

Not only does it separate them as two different people, it creates some distance from Orion, who is an established and beloved character already. I want his female counterpart to stand on her own as her own character.

Just because they have the same route does not mean they are the same person. I've always said that about my gender selectable characters.

This was not a spur of the moment decision. I was thinking about this for a while. I just needed to make sure every piece of Orion's route would make sense for her, and I do believe it does.

I've also been told many times how many people like Orion's route and the whole "manager-client" trope but are unable to play it as they are not attracted to men. I think this would be a nice addition and a way to make it more inclusive/give more people more routes to play!

The things I have written for Orion will probably stay the same since they've been written. Everything after the rewrite will have both options to select from.

So meet Oriana Quinn. With a short black bob usually greased back and a perfectly pressed suit, Oriana is as intimidating as she is determined. Yes, she's just as tall and muscular as her male counterpart and as obsessed with the gym as he. Her route with Cory will be different in its nature (since Cory is straight) but...guess we'll see!

fun fact: The beauty of Oriana being the name is that coincidentally, it also has to do with the sky. One of my requirements for finding a name like Orion's was that it was sky themed since it does come up. It almost seems like fate! haha

TLDR: Orion will be gender selectable. If you have plans to romance Orion and Orion alone, this will make no difference to you. For those who were hoping for this, I hope this news makes Infamous a bit more enjoyable for you! <3

[girlgenius1111]

don't tell Leah

barca femeni x platonic reader :)

based on a request that i changed a little

r has a panic attack at practice, and her teammates help her out. lioness!reader + alexia, lucy, and keira

Playing for Barcelona was a dream, by anyone's standards, and you knew it. You had the opportunity to play with the best in the world, doing the thing you loved more than anything.

This didn't mean that you weren't insanely nervous, though. You'd always been someone who struggled with nerves, but they had noticeably intensified in the past few months. Moving from England to Spain at only 19 would be a lot for anyone, and you noticed it take a toll on your stress levels.

The season was about to start, and you were staring down your first match in the famous blaugrana uniform. Everyone at the club had been nice and supportive since you'd arrived, going out of their way to make you feel comfortable. They teased you for being young, but they always made sure you alright. Lucy and Keira especially, knowing you from the national team where you had also made a young debut, kept a close eye on you.

So, when Jona gathered everyone at the last practice before the first game and announced the starting lineup, everyone cheered and high fived you when he said you'd be starting. You were shouldn't have been surprised; you'd been training well, and the team had several injuries keeping people out. Still, you felt the color drain from your face at his words, but you tried hard to keep cool. You didn't want anyone to think you couldn't handle it. Jona sent everyone off to start their gym session, and you distractedly made your way to weights.

Your brain was working in overdrive, every possible way this could go wrong flying around in your head. You were walking slowly, when a hand on your shoulder startled you out of your thoughts. You turned to find Alexia looking at you with a concerned expression on her face.

"Are you okay, chica?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good," you responded, forcing a smile onto your face. Alexia nodded, but didn't look so sure as you turned away from her and kept walking.

Alexia had surprised you with how kind she was; she seemed so intimidating, so serious, at a distance, but she was a very sweet person once you got to know her, and she took her job as captain very seriously, meaning she always took time to get to know new players. You weren't acting quite right, and she noticed.

You walked to your station of the circuit that had been set out, back to being completely distracted. You didn't notice as Ingrid came to stand next to you, your partner for the workout. You were losing your grip, and fast.

What if you messed up? What if you got an own goal? What if you got hurt? What if you hurt someone else? What if you got a yellow card? Or a red card? What if you played so horribly, everyone would realize what a mistake it had been to sign you?

Your breath was speeding up, and you felt disconnected from the world around you, as if nothing was real.

"Y/n?" Ingrid called quietly, noticing that although you hadn't yet touched the weights in front of you, you were breathing hard and fast, like you'd just run a couple sprints.

"Need a sec," you managed to gasp out, slipping out the door and walking quickly to the locker room. Ingrid looked around, noticing that no one had really noticed your departure, except for Alexia, who was had been watching the whole thing. Alexia walked over to Ingrid, a questioning look on her face.

"What happened?"

"I'm not really sure. She seemed distracted, and she was breathing really hard even though we hadn't started yet, and then she just took off." Ingrid replied, looking at the door through which you'd disappeared. Alexia tilted her head towards the door, and Ingrid nodded. Without saying anything else, they exited the room quietly, making their way down the hall the the locker room.

As they got closer, they could hear your gasps for breath, and they sped up. They entered to find you hunched in a little ball at the foot of your locker, head tucked tightly against your knees. It was clear to both girls what was going on.

Alexia turned to Ingrid, speaking quietly. "Go get Lucy or Keira, fast."

Ingrid nodded, turning on her heel and retreating back the way she came. Alexia remained, approaching you slowly.

"Hey, y/n, can you hear me, cariño?" She asked comfortingly. And you nodded your head jerkily against your knees. Alexia sat down next to you, leaving a little space in between you both.

"That's good. Are you having a hard time breathing?" she asked, even though it was evident that you were. Again, you nodded.

"Okay, that's okay. Ingrid's getting Lucy or Keira. Is there anything I can do?" She asked, unable to sit next to you in such distress and do nothing. You didn't respond immediately, thinking it over in your head. It sounded like she really wanted to help. So, you extracted your hand from where it was wrapped around your leg, and shakily extended it toward's Alexia.

Alexia gripped your hand tight in hers, running her thumb along the back in circles, hoping to bring you some comfort. You held onto her like a lifeline, whole body trembling as you fought to bring enough air into your lungs. You heard a pair of footsteps approaching, and soon, someone was setting a hand on your back.

"Y/n? You with me, buddy?" Lucy asked, sitting down on your other side. "We've gotta take those deep breaths, remember? Can you try with me?" Without waiting for a response, she was tugging your other arm away from you, and placing it over her chest. "With me, okay?"

You felt the steady rise and fall of her chest under your hand, and you tried to match it, you really did. It wasn't working though, and as Lucy's attempts to help you failed, you only grew more panicked. Lucy shushed you softly before speaking.

"Don't freak out, you're okay. Do you need your inhaler?" Lucy questioned, and you nodded frantically, but remembered it wasn't in your bag. Keira had made you give her an extra, though, and you tried to tell Lucy all of this in between gasps.

"Kei- has one- in her bag-" You stuttered. And you felt Alexia's hand leave your grasp as she presumably moved across the room to get the inhaler.

It wasn't something you needed often, only when you were really anxious, had a really bad panic attack. It had happened once at an England camp, and you'd forgotten your inhaler at home, which Leah was not happy about, at all. Since then, she'd carried an extra, and she'd made sure to tell Keira and Lucy not to let you anywhere without one, even though you'd only used it a cumulative three times in the past three years.

Alexia returned quickly, handing the inhaler to Lucy, who uncapped and shook it. Alexia resumed her place by your side, hand finding yours again. You clung tightly to her, as Lucy tried to get you to lift your head off your knees.

"Come on, buddy, help me out here a little," she stated, though not unkindly, nudging your exposed cheek with her hand. You lifted your head slightly, and her hand came up to grab your chin, tilting it up. Your eyes met hers, and she hated how scared you looked.

"Open... deep breath in... hold... okay, breathe out," Lucy said, talking you through the very practiced routine. She took you through the process twice more, and you could feel your lungs relaxing. With every breath, you drew in more air, until you didn't feel like you were minutes away from dying anymore.

You leaned your head back against the locker, shutting your eyes tightly as you felt your heart rate slow back down. Lucy waited a minute before speaking.

"What happened?" She asked, knowing you didn't have panic attacks for no reason.

"I'm starting tomorrow," you whispered, "just kind of freaked out."

Both girls nodded in understanding.

"Does this happen a lot?" Alexia asked, your hand still in hers.

"No," you replied, pausing. "A little more often since I moved, but still not all the time."

Alexia looked at you for a minute. "You tell us if it gets worse, yes?"

"Promise," you replied, bringing your head back down to send her a reassuring smile. Lucy was silent next to you, and you could feel the disapproval radiating off of her. Just as you were about to call her on it, you heard the sound of fast footsteps in the hall, and Keira was racing into the room. She looked surprised to see you calm.

"What- Ingrid said you were- and that-" She spluttered, looking between the three of you.

"I'm good, Kei," you started, but were interrupted by a scoff from Lucy. You looked at her, annoyed, while Alexia turned to her, confused.

"You wouldn't have been fine if Keira didn't have one of your inhalers," Lucy said, frustrated.

"You didn't bring your inhaler, y/n!" Keira scolded, and you rolled your eyes.

"I got a new bag and forgot to move it over. It's not a big deal."

"It would have been a big deal if you had suffocated." Lucy mumbled.

"I wouldn't have suffocated! At the most, I would have passed out, woken up, and been fine." You replied, embarrassed that they were being this stern in front of Alexia.

"I'm still telling Leah," Keira said, uncharacteristically serious.

"Don't you dare, she'll kill me!" You said, not really believing that Keira would tell your captain.

Keira opened her mouth to respond, but Alexia interrupted her. She looked amused at the three of you, but her tone still rang with authority, like it did when she wanted to be taken seriously.

"Do you have another extra?" Alexia asked. You nodded. "I want one for my bag. Just in case," she said, and you groaned. Keira and Lucy grinned triumphantly, and Alexia's lips lifted into a smile too.

You thought you'd escaped the overprotectiveness when you'd left England, but apparently it was still thriving here. Or maybe, this was just how the team operated; always looking out for each other.

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