art being ur boyfriend and u somehow find out he humps his pillows.. maybe you walk in on him or he forgets to wash his pillow case and it’s just fucking covered in cum… you make him put on a show for you
art’s too busy now to hear anything you’re saying. he’s trying so desperately to cling to your words and respond, but he feels too good.
being watched by you feels too fucking good.
you’re sat on the edge of the bed while he lays over his pillow and ruts wetly into it. his hips rocking urgently and desperately as he gasps and keens, blinking blearily over to you as your voice swirls incoherently in his head.
“that’s it, baby… this is so hot, oh my god… can’t believe you couldn’t wait till i was home,” you smirk, “couldn’t wait to rub your greedy cock against something, so now you get your pillow instead of my tight hole.”
he can’t make out anything you’re saying, his own whines and groans filling his ears, but the way you’re looking at him does enough. it spreads an itchy heat through his entire body that pools in his balls and then slides to his tip.
“unnngh—!” he moans, his lips parting as his brows knit up. he grips the pillow tighter.
you chuckle.
“good god, artie… you look like a pornstar… come on, that’s all you got? put your back into it…
fuck it like you’re fucking me.”
and holy hell, he hears that last bit. it rings through his head, and then he can’t help it. he’s pounding into the plushness trapped under his pelvis and picturing that he’s being squeezed by your squishy inner walls.
“ohh, hah— haah! i’m gonna come, i’m gonna come for you— can i come inside you?”
he’s babbling, clearly losing his head.
but you take pity on him. he looks like he’s too lost in it to hold back anyways if you wanted to deny him. so you nod, and reach out to stroke a hand through the back of his hair. “yeah, babe. let go.”
uffff he’s gone in an instant !
eyes rolling back before he squeezes them shut and curls in on himself, shallowly thrusting as he dribbles his hot load over the already-soaked pillow. he nearly mewls.
his body jolts here and there with the aftershocks until he feels your hand over his back, and then he’s reaching out for you with a look on his face that tells you he needs you. he’s sorry. he’ll be good now. he’ll wait.
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Simon Riley x Maid!Reader
based on this text post
a/n: loved this concept, and since I actually worked a door to door cleaning job I thought this fit so well and needed to write it. hope u enjoy :)
warnings: sfw but theres tension 😋, will make an nsfw part two if you guys want it :), Simon being big and scary and offputting per usual, lots of internal dialogue
You took a deep breath.
These were the steps you were to take in this job. You had no reason to feel unsafe or in danger of any sort. Yet, the thought of walking up and knocking on this door had your heart in your stomach.
Simon Riley Is what the work order had listed as the clients name. Ex Military. Large German Shepard named Riley. Liked his wooden floors cleaned with vinegar instead of the regular cleaning solution. Nothing too out of the ordinary.
Except for the entry instructions. The small box on the piece of paper that would normally hold a few finely printed words, things such as "Homeowner will be not be home, key is under welcome mat"
or "Homeowner will be home and located in office on second floor, door will be unlocked"
had big, bold font to start. Your manager had to go in and manually change that detail, and knowing her, that must mean this is serious.
The box reads-
"DO NOT ATTEMPT TO OPEN DOOR. HOMEOWNER IS EX MILITARY AND EXTREMELY STRICT. RING FRONT DOORBELL ONCE AND WAIT."
Yeah. Very normal and not at all gut-wrenching.
You keep taking deep breaths as you go through your routine. Read the work order thoroughly once more, try not to shit yourself, go and grab your equipment, and follow the instructions.
Easy. Just follow the routine.
Your equipment is as big and clunky as usual. With a vacuum on your back, a bucket full of microfiber towels, a backpack full of chemicals, and knee pads on both knees, you knew for sure you were a sight for sore eyes.
You're not quiet as you walk either, each step making every plastic piece of your puzzle clunk and scrape in a cacophony of reminders of why you were here. You thunk and bang your way up the front porch, eyes everywhere but the front door, still taking deep breaths as you try to just focus on your surroundings, taking note of the nice front garden and walkway as you pass.
You finally settle on the front porch, your arms dropping the bucket and preparing yourself for the big push to start this job.
One ring, you remind yourself. Then wait. Deep breath.
You look up to find the door bell, hand pulling up in a search for the button when you see him.
He must have heard you, you decide as he stands behind the screen door with his arms crossed.
Simon Riley is massive, standing what feels like a clean foot taller than you, big muscled arms bulging from his tight t-shirt. They're as big as your head, his thighs probably twice so. His face was pulled down in a heated gaze, though the bottom half of his face was covered by a black mask. He was scary as he stood there, his aura menacing and doing nothing to sooth your nerves.
Yeah, ex Military makes sense, Jesus christ.
"Ya pissed of my dog, allat noise." You jump, the deep british voice startling you as he begins chastising you. His face frowns down it you, his eyes angry. You're speachless, "Well? Talk."
You stammer as you realize you were just sitting and staring in awe, mind suddenly back on track and then derailing again as you have no idea what to say.
The routine, Jesus christ the routine what's the next step. You scramble for your binder, pulling it open to his work order page and looking up at him as you muster up the courage to speak.
"Um, are you, uh, Simon Riley, sir?" You ask, stuttering and staggering between every word.
He reaches foreword and opens the screen door, getting a good look at you first before he can respond.
"Hm. You the cleaning lady?" He questions, the hand not holding the door open now stuffed in the pocket of his pants.
"Mhm, yeah, im- uh. I'm from Housekeeping Heros, you have an appointment for, um-" you start rustling through more pages of the binder, desperate to find the information, needing to prove to yourself more then him you were in the right place.
"I know i 've an appointment," He holds out his hand and halts your movements. You relax, all the horrible conclusions you were drawing coming to an end. Though, as per usual, they were quickly replaced with new ones, his voice still short and snippy with you.
Deep breaths, girl, we can do this.
He points to your small pile of equipment. "Ya need 'elp?"
You shake your head no, suprised he'd offered. Though he just responds with a head shake, motioning to give it here with his hands. And you do, you don't even second guess it, handing him your bucket and backpack without a second word, something in you submitting to him without a care in the world.
He turns around and walks everything into the kitchen where he gently rests it on the table, softer then you were expecting. You follow him in, feeling like a stray with your legs tucked between your legs as you fet settled. He looks at you expectantly.
Not sure what he's looking for, you start explaining the cleaning process, using your binder as a reference and pointing to each section. He stands behind you, arms crossed again and chin tucked down as he nods along with your words.
He points to the vacuum on your back, "Not round Riley, ya 'ear me?" He scolds. You take note of the large German Shepard snorring lightly on the couch.
"And none o' this shite," He kicks at your knee pads, pointing to a mop he had in the corner. Thank God, cleaning on your knees always sucked, and why your bullshit company made you do it anyways was a marvel.
"Oh, thank you!" You chirped up. He seemed to scowl further when your voice pitched up, so you slink back in on yourself. Understood, point taken, sir.
You still were not feeling great, the pit in your stomach unrelenting as you organize your stuff.
He looms close by. You figured he would, not doubting the "extremely strict" next to "ex military" on your work order at all.
You start with the first step of your process, filling the bucket up in the sink and soaking your towels in the cleaning solution.
"Where's yer boss?" He grumbles from behind you, making you jump.
"Um, Nancy?" Bucket now full, you throw the towels into the warm water with a dash of solution.
"Eh, whatever her name is," He grumbles. How polite.
"Haha, um." You giggle akwardly, "she's with family right now, I think," you stutter, trying to speak loud enough that he could hear you clearly.
He just hmphs in response. As your towels soak in the water, you reach for your extendable feather duster and start wiping the top corners of the room.
"Whats yer name?" He grumbles. It shocks you when he says it. He couldn't seem to care less about the other workers name, but he was interested in yours?
You told him, quiet, "sir," peeping out after. He just hmms again, leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed as he watched you work.
It was nerve-wracking, having him over your shoulder. He hadn't said anything yet, but it felt like you could feel the complaints waiting to come. You just kept up the deep breathing, taking the clothes out of the water and dispersing them on the countertops throughout the house.
He had a very large home, no mcmansion that took up half the street, but a pretty place tucked in a nice down town area. Honestly, if the home and neighborhood wasn't so gorgeous, you probably would've turned around and told your supervisor to give the damn house to someone else.
But thankfully, or not, Simon seemed to harbor a certain comfort for his homes presentation. The indoors of his home reflected it as well, the house put together like it was being staged, every inch perfectly in place.
Maybe that's why it's not so surprising when the first complaint does manage to leave his lips in the form of a hiss as you go to open a cabinet door.
"Oi, what do you think yer doing?" He hisses, rushing over to grab your wrist and pull it from the knob. You gasp as he's suddenly in your space and touching you, flinching as he does.
"Um, I just gotta m-make sure the insides don't need to be wiped down, sir," your muscles shake as you speak— him actually coming over and grabbing had you a little shook up.
He waved his hand infront of your face, dismissing whatever you have to say, "None of that. Don't need'a open nothing that ain't yours." you just nod, taking your first breath once he's finally out of your space.
That would've been a very good thing to include in the work order, Nancy.
Well, at least that's a few less things to worry about cleaning, though you may have failed your task of not shitting your pants, because good lord. He's right back to his perch on the wall, observing you carefully now.
You get into your routine, floating room to room and doing each task per the work order. You slowly scrub the slight musky smoke smell that lingers throughout, instead replacing it with the smell of cinnamon and detergent.
He likes watching you work, but he knows he doesn't show it, not a flutter or twitch anywhere to be seen. He growls small, careful, watch it, leave it, keeping you on edge through every movement.
You do move much faster than your college though, much more gracefully. He notices your wandering eyes, lingering on the photos on the wall and the dates on his calender. He let's you get away with it, for now. Figured he'd picked on you enough, should probably just let you finish your work.
That is, until you approach the end of your routine. You'd been scrubbing and whipping and Simon snipping and snyding for almost an hour now, you'd made excellent time and you hope Simon knows that.
It's all you can think about, actually. Him and the way he has you doting on him, some broken part of you combined with the fear his giant stature instills has you easily folding to do whatever he says and respond to his every grunt. It has your mind a little clouded, even more so as you swing through every step of your routine with practiced care.
It was finally time for the last step of the routine, and you shivered out a breath as you unwrapped the vacuum. Simon had sank a little further away, now sitting at the kitchen table with his eyes glued to a newspaper, anxiety settling slightly without his prying eyes.
You get the cord untangled and laid out across the carpet, searching the perimeter of the room for an outlet. You couldn't see any in the open, and not wanting to risk pissing off Simon for moving furniture, you start to round the corner in your search.
Suddenly, you're against the wall, a giant hand against your sternum as the breath is knocked out of your lungs. His face is in yours, eyebrows furrowed and breath hot on your face as he spoke.
"Tha fuck ya think your doin'?" youre confused and breathless, small under him as he leers above.
"I dont- im-" "Been nothing but nice to ya since you clambered yer way up my damn porch, and I gave you one fuckin' rule." His voiced is raised at you now, chastising you in that brazen, gravely tone. "One! and what do you go and try to do?"
You're just confused, what had you done to elicit this response from him? You thought he was complacent and quiet at the table, what of his million little rules could you have broken?
That's when you see it. Her, you should say. Rylie, the big German Shepard he'd warned you to by no means vacuum around, was bundled up on the couch, inches from where you stand.
Fuck. how had you forgotten.
"Sir, i- I didn't realize, I didn't know she was there sir i-" You desperately try to make an excuse for yourself, but he's just shaking his head at you.
"Do ya think flutterin yer eyelashes a little is gonna make everything better?" He mocks you, his big blue eyes locked on you. You shake your head no, half of it to answer him, the other half just you shivering where you stand.
"No sir- I'm sorry sir I didnt- I forgot you told me and-"
He's clicking his tongue at you, a tsk tsk to put you to shame. To your suprise, each click when straight to your core, and suddenly the heat in the room is rising. Your body is flushed and your sure your face matches, if the way his eyes crinkle when he looks up at you says anything.
His hand doesn't leave your sternum, as he speaks, Inches from your face, "too good at this to be forgetting," he shakes his head, the praise a little shocking, and the soft, "too pretty," that follows it hammers the fact.
You breath is caught in your chest again as he leans into your ear, eyes wide and mouth clamped as he murmurs a deep.
"So how do you think I should go bout making sure you remember?"
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TOLERATE IT | Joel Miller
SUMMARY: an argument with joel doesn’t end the way that you think it will.
PAIRING: joel miller x afab!reader. (established relationship)
WARNINGS: very short piece. angsty argument so if u do nawt want to read, then skip <3. i’m in the middle of an argument with my bf and instead of feeding into it, i have immortalized it into my writing 😊 sorry joel for being my proverbial punching bag ! maybe ill make a part two if we ever make up LOL.
Fat tears spill over the swollen apples of your cheeks faster than you can wipe them away with the already much-too-wet sleeve of your sweatshirt, and the room starts to spin.
Your face is damp with salty—bittersweet—upset, and a splitting migraine is beginning to fester away at the inside of your fucking brain.
“You can’t keep doing this.” Joel stands with both hands on his hips while you’re sat cross-legged on the couch, a cushion sat plump in your lap. “Can’t keep cryin’ whenever we have an argument—“
“But you’ve upset me, Joel!” Almost incoherently, you blabber. “You can’t expect me to be cool with the fact that you were flirting with some—some skank last night!”
He drags his left hand over his face. Joel exerts an exasperated sigh. He doesn’t know how many more hours he can argue with you about this, before he says something that he’s going to regret.
“I know. I was wrong, and I shouldn’t have done it—but why the fuck are you still crying?!” Joel barks. “It’s been hours, baby! Can’t we move past this—“
“No! We can’t!” Scraping your hand across your eyes—all tears immediately drying up—you stand to attention. You smack the pillow onto the couch in complete and utter fucking fury. “It’s been four years of us, Joel. Four fucking years that I thought we were happy—but apparnelty you’re not! Are you bored of me, or something?!”
“No!” Defensively, he exclaims. He’s just as annoyed as you, now. Though he has no place to be. “I don’t know what came over me—“
“Four years. Forty-Eight months I’ve spent being by your side—completely faithful—and you think it’s okay to just fuck around on me?!”
“I’m not fuckin’ around on you!” Mood—and tone—matching, he counters. “I love you. But I was hammered last night—“
I was hammered. I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t know what came over me.
BULLSHIT. You’ve heard it all before and, frankly, you’re sick of it. The excuses, the lies…Dating a prolific man-whore isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, actually.
“You need to get your act together.” With a shaking hand, you point at him. Your finger is trembling against his flannel. “If you want this to work, then you’ll stop lying to me—“
“I’m. Not. Fucking. Lying.” Through gritted teeth, he says.
Joel has confessed his wrongdoings, but it’s not enough. To you, he owes you more than just an explanation.
“I don’t believe you.” Devoid of any emotion—any feeling—you state. “You told me that you were going to Tommy’s last night to watch the Cowboys game. But Tommy came here at six o’clock asking for you, and said that they weren’t even fucking set to play! You’re a fucking liar, Joel!”
He backs away with both hands up, completely defeated. You’re tenacious, when you want to be. Sanctimonious. He knows he’ll never win an argument, so he walks away to leave you alone with time to cool off.
But to you—to most people—that’s him giving up.
Joel takes the keys to his truck from the fruit bowl beside the front door, grabs his jacket and unlocks the front door.
He turns to you without even so much as a smile. “Call me when you’re ready to have an adult fucking conversation.”
Joel slams shut the door and you begin to fume all over again. To your left is a picture of the two of you last summer—when you were happy and carefree in Mykonos—and you know that it won’t do anything to help the issue, but you grab it. With a firm hand, you launch it at the door.
Fragments of glass shatter against the door, the floor and fly across the room in every which direction perfectly depicting the current state of your heart after Joel started to break it.
Your eyes are streaming again, hearing his truck peel away from the sidewalk and to god-knows fucking where.
But there’s no use in crying over him anymore. You just need to tolerate it. Tolerate this. Because Joel knows it’ll take more than an “I’m sorry” to really make it up to you.
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Hey can u write a Seongji Yuk x selectively mute!reader please
─────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───────
character seongji yuk
summary him in a relationship w u <3 (selectively mute)
start no clue
end 21 sept
a/n tysm for req! I’m not selectively mute, so tell me if this is anyway inaccurate n I’ll change it. this is a lil bit shorter <33 sorry for taking so long aswell😭🙏
─────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───────
ᯓ★ Respects your boundaries. He’ll never push you to talk whenever you don’t want to, but rather savour the comfortable silence where you’re together. He loves just being around you, just having you in his presence is enough to soothe him.
ᯓ★ The silence between the two of you is never suffocating. The warmth of your hands intertwined and the slow smiles curving from each others lips when you occasionally make eye contact allows the both of you to relax.
ᯓ★ Instead of dates where you’d go out to eat at loud restaurants, you’d both prefer to stay inside, cuddling on the couch while watching a tv show comfortably. As always, he made his favourite snack, tanghulu, but you only sigh and take a bite instead of complaining. No matter how many times you write messages about how dangerous this much sugar is, he never listens.
ᯓ★ Around the house, post it notes are stuck to walls back-to-back with cute little messages and inside jokes. You’d notice a note stuck on the fridge with a ‘I love you. don’t eat my food. 😾’ and you’d reply back, then going back and forth with bits of banter.
ᯓ★ Instead of verbal communication, you naturally understand each other with only meaningful glances and subtle gestures that just the two of you understand. There’s never a need to talk between you two, only when you’re comfortable enough.
(Usually, you’d use pen and paper or type on your phone.)
ᯓ★ He plans dates to take the main focus off of talking, letting the silence between the both of you communicate louder than words could. A soft brush of your hands, and you turn to face each other. The gentle tickle of sand under your fingers sparking anticipation. Your heart flutters when he takes the initiative to intertwine your fingers.
The sun casted a golden, pink glow over the horizon as it slowly dips. A gentle breeze carried the smell of seawater, feeling cool onto your skin while seagulls flutter into the distance. The tranquil beach was your favourite place to just relax with each other, side by side, taking in the breeze. Ever since you’ve been friends, you’d frequent this mesmerising view. Although you’d find yourself studying Seongji’s features rather the rising and falling of the tide hitting against the rocks.
Tonight was different. It was your first anniversary of being friends, yet the air between you two felt distant. Do people even celebrate this? It was only an excuse for you to see him that day. Do friends hold hands? Make up first year anniversaries and believe it? Does he feel the same way? These thoughts danced around in your mind, and came up with a foolish idea to finally write the words I love you. A piece of paper and a pencil rested beside you, and your hand itched to pick it up.
Seongji noticed your eyes lingering, lips parted as if you wanted to say something. He leaned closer, catching you off guard, and spoke softly.
“Are you okay?” His voice flows smoothly; like the warmth of a spring breeze, barely above a whisper. Combing his hands through your hair, you couldn’t help but fluster at the sudden contact. You paused and he waited for a response, knowing you wouldn’t express it with words. And he didn’t expect you to either
Lips trembling, the silence that was once comforting started to overwhelm your senses. You expected yourself to be able to do this with ease, yet here you were, shaking. Seongji called out your name, squeezed your hands in a feeble attempt to get you to respond in any way. If only you knew how much you meant to him. Pathetic. You felt pathetic. If only you were a little stronger…
“I love you, Seongji.” You muttered, and the world around you two went silent. The birds fussing in the sky, crabs scattering at the commotion, tree leaves dancing… It paused for a moment. Seongji gazed into your eyes, a glitter of hope inside his. He cupped your cheeks that ran with your tears, wiping them away in his thumb. Words couldn’t express how glad he felt in this moment. The words jumbled in his throat and the only thing he could do was hold you tight in his arms, head nestling against the pulse in your neck.
Nothing else mattered. The fact that this is the first time you felt comfortable speaking didn’t matter. He pulled away, and that’s when you noticed the tears glistening down his cheek. Seongji placed a passionate kiss on your lips, one that he’s been holding in for too long.
“I love you too.” Seongji whispered against your lips, pulling you in for another.
ᯓ★ Even throughout the surprise dinner the rest of Cheonliang fam held in congratulations for your relationship, he held your hand. At first, you didn’t plan on telling them. But when they caught you exchanging kisses on the lips, the secret slipped away. He gently stroked your hand with his thumb, a subtle reminder he was there for you. A touch so soft, as if silently asking are you okay? and you felt so safe knowing he were there with you. Every so often, hed glance at your facial expression, a search for any signs of discomfort.
He knows you’re not great at huge events or parties like this. Seongji even insisted you should relax at home for a while, though you wanted to. After all, everyone was so happy; giggling and cheering for the both of you. You felt you couldn’t let them down. The loud talking pained your ears, as well as the music playing from the radio. A nod here, and a gentle squeeze of his hand there. As always, your eyes did all the talking. When questions were asked, your gaze would shift to him, a silent request between the two of you.
Sometimes, you were comfortable enough to say a few words at questions that weren’t bothersome, and nobody would make a big deal. The air between everyone was chatty and easy-going, and that’s what you loved about the Cheonliang fam.
Somewhere to call home, and people to all family is all you’ve ever wanted.
You’ve struck gold.
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─── Sachi's Selfship Event ✦
Heya, here's my event for my 500 followers milestone. It's been fun writing my silly thoughts and sharing it on this blog. Thanks for all the support y'all have given me. But, as I've mentioned in my last post, I'll start writing on a different blog.
✦ The Event ───
Basically, you tell me about your selfship and I give you a set of headcanons based on the SFW alphabet (see content under the cut for the alphabet). For moots and followers that I recognize, I’ll do 10 letters. For everyone else, 8 letters. And for anons, 6 letters.
For fandoms, please keep it within Blue Lock, Wind Breaker, Mashle, and Kaiju no. 8!
✦ Instructions ───
Send me an ask containing the following:
your chosen character, your chosen letters, your likes & dislikes, love languages (receiving and giving), hobbies, interests, basic description of your appearance, picrews, random facts, some of your own lore about your selfship, etc. —literally everything that can help me write a more accurate set of headcanons
* Since some people might not be comfortable sharing their info, I’ll keep the asks in my inbox and tag you on your post instead. But if you’re on anon, I have no choice but to answer the ask.
✦ Rules ───
1. Do not rush me with your request. If you’ve sent me an ask, I’ve definitely read it.
2. Only one selfship per person!
3. Do not include any nsfw information in the ask that you will send me.
Note: Depending on the amount of asks I get, I might not be able to fulfill all of them. Of course, moots and followers take priority!
Fulfilled Letters !
✉️: Letter for Lumi
✉️: Letter for Candy
✉️: Letter for Amy
✉️: Letter for Rye
Check under the cut for the letters you can choose from ~
These are just general descriptions for each letter, but based on the info you'll give me, I can delve into it deeper and provide stuff beyond what is written here.
A - Affection
How do they show their affection for you? Do they get bouts of cuteness aggression?
B - Best Quality
What they think is/are your best quality/ies and why
C - Comfort
How do they comfort you when you're sad and down?
D - Dates
What kind of dates do you two like to go on? How frequent?
E - Early Relationship
How did you two get together? What was it like when you were just first starting out?
F - Fights
What do you usually fight over? Do you quarrel often? How do things get resolved? Who says sorry first?
G - Gifts
Their favorite gift that they got from you or a gift they've given to you. Do they like receiving gifts? If so, what kinds?
H - Hugs
Are they a hugger? What kinds of hugs do they prefer? What about cuddling?
I - Intimacy
What makes you feel connected at a deeper level? What kind of romance do you have?
J - Jealousy
How jealous are they? How do they deal with it?
K - Kisses
How do they kiss you? Do they like kissing?
L - Laughter
What are your inside jokes? What do you usually laugh about together? Who's funnier?
M - Memories
What is your most cherished memory together?
N - Nicknames
Do they like nicknames? If so, what do they like to be called or what do they call you?
O - Other People
What do other people think about your relationship? (Family, friends, co-workers, etc.)
P - Patience
How patient are they? Who's the more patient one between the two of you? What happens if they lose their patience?
Q - Quirks
What are some quirks you adopted from each other? Or what are the quirks that only come out when you're together?
R - Rituals
What are some things in your routines that you like to do together? Is it common or unusual? How frequent is it? Is it a daily, weekly, or annual thing?
S - Support
How do they show their support for your hobbies and interests? How involved are they?
T - Time Apart
How do you spend your time apart? Who caves first? Who handles it better?
U - Uniqueness
What sets you apart from other couples?
V - Values
What are your shared values?
W - Wildcard
Random headcanon about your relationship
X - XOXO
What are the little things that they do for you? Do you notice them or maybe they go unnoticed?
Y - Yin & Yang
How do you complement each other? How do you make them a better person? Or how do you make them happier? Are you two opposites or are you more similar to each other?
Z - Zrandom (sorry ran out of ideas, forgive me)
Pick a theme or any topic and I'll make a headcanon for it :)
Again, for moots and followers that I recognize, I’ll do 10 letters. For everyone else, 8 letters. And for anons, 6 letters.
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