#even without trying to draw examples

[lucky-slice]

I see the vision and I adore it.

I wouldn't say its a one to one because they're all very different characters, but yeah - there's something in there about protecting and being protected. Something about promises.

Kevin exists in a protective role for Jean, not because he can necessarily prevent physical harm, but because he protects Jean's strength to live. He makes Jean promise not to end his life and in turn implicitly promises to not let him do so.

Andrew's protection of Kevin presents more physically, but even so - their deal was much more about Andrew's ability to protect Kevin from himself. He would stop Kevin from going back to Riko. He supplies him with a sense of stability that Kevin would drive himself to ruin without.

You could even draw parallels between the breaking of these respective promises. There's multiple ways people have interpreted the choking incident (and I'm not gonna ramble on your post about that), but from my perspective, the choking incident is a representation of Andrew placing something above his promise to Kevin. You can argue whether or not this "breaks the deal", but it's not hard to draw a parallel between the shifting of that dynamic and the shifting in Kevin and Jean's dynamic.

Fun stuff to think about.

is it just me. or is kevin to jean what andrew is to kevin

[elusiiev]

OMORITOBER DAY 14: LIBRARY

i like to imagine spirit mari tossing down her favorite memories for omori to read while peeking around to see omori's reaction :3

i was thinkin of drawing her too, but honestly i wasnt very sure what pose to do and i was a bit tired !!

thanks to @/ntrogensolar for the omoritober prompt list!

extra rant in the tags ab why this isnt a full piece!

[edge-oftheworld]

yeah I know Luke’s been running around saying he ‘can be a bit of a pessimist’ but I just wanna give him a little bit more credit than that. he’s been through so much and yet we’ll hear him talking about times that are ‘marred with trauma’ but still he can’t ever regret for getting him to where he is today. this whole year he’s been making an effort to do things that scare him and he even finds hard, he’s been pushing himself out of his comfort zone and doing 1000 solo interviews as well as his shows and last year he went to bogota to film 7 music videos in 2 days and believed he could do it and he did. he talks about mental health related things in such a way that’s filled with acceptance, not complaint or bitterness but dare I say even optimism, dropping horrifying little descriptions to already heartbreaking songs since 2021 and then turning around and saying writing songs is what gets him through it, he ‘wouldn’t have a good relationship with anything’ if he didn’t make them but he’s super proud of himself after and wasn’t put off by how much work it was gonna be even though it did make him apprehensive and he goes and mentions how it wasn’t easy. you look at everything we know of him for the last decade and a half and realise, maybe it was never easy. but someone once described optimism as curiosity + resilience rather than being naively happy all the time in denial of everything going on around. and with that active brain and all the things he figures out while writing all his beautiful songs there’s definitely curiosity there. and with everything he’s been through to keep choosing to be himself and do whatever he needs to do there’s so much resilience. and I’ve seen this spirit in the songs of sounds good feels good and 5sos5, as well as littered through wfttwtaf and boy; every project being a quiet, kinda emo, statement of survival. I’m just one fan with too many opinions but this is something I’ve always loved about the band, and a decent portion of it was always brought to the table by luke and idk I just think we should acknowledge it

[unproduciblesmackdown]

speaking of drawing people's faces and lifting any art of [will roland role based] characters overhead when you can tell the artist was actually trying to meaningfully use that inspiration beyond "brown hair. glasses" like wow once in a lifetime unsame as it ever was

not coming up a lot that Professional Illustrators are drawing will roland as [role] or like, in general, but that in fact there Are the examples of professional illustrator justin "squigs" robertson drawing him several times and it's like, doing stylized portraits of people working in theatre that are indeed focusing on distinguishable individuals versus, say, the style being more abstracted

all drawn differently but various gists are there, and none of the people in these group collages look interchangeable or like oh and this person gets thee "generic/default" look

there's also the fact i'm like 99% sure there's a squigs-drawn larger portrait of will roland just as himself that i love to think of / sure further encapsulates that "thank god this artist drawing Features" but i can't find it or remember exactly what context it was in. augh

but also there's this other deh illustration ft. wrol jared i found lol. bonus

[eats-the-stars]

just had a very transparent reminder that practice does create improvement. my sister asked me to make a sign language guide for my 5yo nephew's schoolteachers. and maybe i coulda printed a buncha shit out, but my nephew is 5 and gives some of his signs a personal flair that the internet diagrams just doesn't capture. so i spent a whole day hand-drawing his most commonly used signs, and buddy, if you've ever struggled to draw hands, you can imagine the difficulty there is in drawing hands signing shit. point is, though, i was given the opportunity to mark the clear different in the quality of my hand-drawing skills from the first sign card to the last.

so yeah if you want to rapidly improve your hand-drawing skills, try to hand-draw a sign language guide using pictures of your own hands forming the signs, and internet sign drawings that range from excellent to complete dog-shit (no shade tho I almost cried trying to draw the sign for "friends" that one's a real bitch.

[vigilskeep]

Harker I was raised super religious southern baptist and I didn’t get the Angel shit until you said it. On the other hand I also didn’t care to learn. win some lose some. 40283938 lost memories

your religious trauma permit to not know anything has been successfully approved

[hoshigray]

𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐅@#𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲!? | suguru getō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time you wanna do something nice for your boyfriend, how about making sure he doesn’t see the package – let alone OPEN it! – before you? Especially if it’s something with bunny ears…!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! you and Geto are college sweethearts - implied that you and Geto are early 20s - lingerie + bunny outfit - oral (m! receiving) - anal fingering (f! receiving) - use of an anal toy; butt plug - backshots/doggy style + deep impact positions - impact play (spanking) - clitoral play - praise - finger sucking - cervix fucking - unprotected sex (psa: don't be silly; wrap the willy) - pet names (angel, baby, bunny girl, little bunny, good girl, my love, princess, sweet baby, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Mei Mei, and Gojo - reader is very shy but is trying their best! - kind of freaky! Geto awakening, lmao - humor - mention of drool/spit and tears - will be proofread l8r.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.2k (sigh..)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on this ask!! haven't done a suguru fic in a long while so ehh, why not? && tysm for 8.8k, my loves xoxo

“…”

Oh no.

“…Well,”

I have to be dreaming…

“Needless to say, I brought your package inside, Y/n.”

THERE’S NO WAY!!!

Being an introvert can have its trivial times; you should know that. Looking back on your life, you can’t seem to say you had the drive to stand out, an expertise you regret not putting effort into. You couldn’t do it; you’ve tried but to no avail! Going out of your comfort zone is too scary, shivering or freezing on the spot whenever you’re being spoken to or fumbling with words when trying to make a point. Man, it’s so embarrassing! It sucks — you’re a grown adult, and yet you can barely get through any gathering without anxiety rattling your bones.

Some are good at talking with others or are lucky enough to be naturally blessed with a social spirit. Some people like your boyfriend, for example. 

Yes, you have a boyfriend. 

Suguru Geto, your partner, wasn’t a complete extrovert. Honestly, he’s comfortable keeping to himself if he could choose. After meeting you, he preferred dates when you visit each other’s dormitories and enjoy each other’s company. However, compared to you, his people-pleasing skills outclassed yours unquestionably. Geto knew how to talk, drawing people in with his mellow tone and inviting aura. He was good at mingling and making everyone feel comfortable around him. You were a victim to it, lured in by his charm and soft ambiance.

He was terrific, a role model to you. How he would efficiently put himself out there while you stayed close in his shadow never failed to inspire you. The way he spoke, how he listened intently to others’ concerns, and his maturity seen as a dependable figure to lean on. It’s absurd to think that such a marvelous man fell in love with you and asked to court you.

You and Geto have dated since your junior year of college; what you once thought would be a tiny crush on one of the school’s notorious heartthrobs became your first and longest-running relationship! How did that happen!? You couldn’t tell; one moment, you two were paired up for an end-of-semester project, and he managed to have you relax and talk with him daily. The next thing you know, he’s asking you to live with him in his apartment the second you finish graduation. Now, you two have been a couple for nearly half a decade. It’s unbelievable to think about.

But even with how long you two have been together, there are moments where you feel as though you weren’t doing your part. Being in a relationship is such a hurdle for an awkward person, aka you, such as going stiff whenever old friends of Suguru pop up and greet him or him inviting you along to parties only for you to stay glued to a corner in silence. You felt as though you were…boring? Dull? Deadweight!? The list goes on, and the guilt never tires you out.

And Geto – God bless him – has repeatedly expressed and assured you that you didn’t have to feel as such. His alluring purple eyes and soothing voice vouch that he doesn’t mind standing in as your sponsor and speaking for you, and you are eternally grateful to the stars above for gracing a loving and understanding boyfriend your way. Nonetheless, the stress that churns your stomach doesn’t go away. He’s always been the one to voice for you, attend to you, and look out for you. Hell, even in the bedroom, he’s doing most of the work. Again, he’s never complained nor seems to ever will, but still!

He’s done so much for you, and you want to meet him at least halfway and make him feel appreciated. So, you took matters into your own hands and decided to do something special for your man!

Here was the plan: going out and buying stuff meant talking to people, and talking meant letting strangers know about your business; merely thinking about it had you trembling a storm. So yeah, nope. You went on the Internet and found sites catering to your search. You can’t say you were the type to wear anything risqué, especially in the bedroom. So, you dialed up your two best friends, Mei Mei and Shoko, to help you find stuff that they thought would look nice for you to wear.

Luckily, they came in clutch and found something for a beginner like you! It’s not something you’d wear in public—you’d rather die—but it’s a good start when implementing new things into your lifestyle. You added the item to your cart, purchased it, and waited silently for your package to arrive. To say you were anxious about this new step of adulthood was on the nail, but you beamed with glee once you got the notification that your bundle would be delivered today!

Before then, you decided to nap and wait for the item to be delivered to your apartment door. You woke up to that once you saw the notice on your phone, yawning your way out of the shared bedroom to retrieve it.

However, what you saw as you entered the living room stopped you dead in your tracks, and your eyes widened with absolute horror.

What you should have accounted for was that today was a Thursday, meaning Geto would usually come home from work on weekdays. So, while you were snoring in the comfort of your blanket, your boyfriend was the first to see a mysterious box with your name on it at his doorstep. And to add more salt to the wound, you caught him in the act unboxing the package and inspecting its contents, and you’re too shocked to fall on your knees at what he has in his hands.

Geto sat on the living room couch, the box perched on the coffee table opened with the wrappings decorating the brown table surface. His eyes find your figure to latch onto, but yours honed on what he was inspecting. In his right hand was a black lacy top meant to be worn around a chest—the other holding onto a headband with bunny ears of velvet material. 

This is where we lay our current scene; astounded, you could only stand in place — like Geto — at the sight before you. And with every passing second, you wanted nothing but to explode into bits. Your boyfriend had found your package and opened it!

Of course, you’d be stammering your words! “W-Where did you get that!?” What a silly question; where else would he have gotten it, dumbass?

Nonetheless, the dark-haired man answers after a forced cough. “Well, umm, I saw it at the door coming from work. I brought it in and was going to let you know, but you were asleep, and I…didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Why did you open it if you knew it was mine??”

Geto raised his hands defensively, still holding onto the items. “I–I’m sorry! I thought it was something different, like the cute glass cups you liked and ordered last week. I figured I would set those up on your behalf. I had no idea it would be something…” Your feet suddenly felt heavy, watching your boyfriend scan the lace top. “Like this.”

Any attempt to fight the mini shakes of your knees was impractical, and your throat was going so dry that you were scared to swallow.

“This doesn’t seem like something you would buy; could someone have accidentally sent this with the wrong information?” He inquires with furrowed brows. “Better not be some fucked up prank or whatever.”

“N-No, it’s, I…” Fuck, this had to be the worst scenario to admit this. “….I did mean to buy it.”

Have you ever had those moments where people would look at you after saying something that you wish you hadn’t? You indeed hated those moments; they made you feel so scrutinized by the public judging you. And seeing your man’s eyes widen and his expression morphed his lips to a small “o” shape? Oh, you couldn’t breathe adequately.

“You bought,” your quivering lips worsen when his left wrist flicks with the bunny-eared headband. “This?”

Your hands come to your face, shielding yours from his as you silently squat down with the weight of your humiliation. The shakes rock your entire frame, and you can sense your tears forming. This officially was the worst day ever; out of all the dilemmas that could happen, why did it have to be the worst one of all?!? Your partner had found out about the out-of-the-norm purchase you made without you present to explain yourself first. Now he probably thinks he’s dating some freak into weird shit. Can this day get any worse!?!

You wanted to cry, hoping the floor beneath you would give way and ingest you out of this cold, cruel world. But alas, you’re still here and can hear the footsteps approaching your crouching state, and you jolt when Geto embraces you.

“Y/n,” God, why did he say your name like that? His tone was smooth like honey, and he rubbed your back as he brought you closer. “It’s okay, baby. I didn’t mean to judge you or anything; I was just curious, is all. Sorry, I opened your package without letting you know, okay?… Ahh, did I make my sweet angel cry?” Raven brows scrunched together at the view of you burrowing into his chest more. “Aww, Y/n, I’m sorry…”

Yes, you were indeed sniffling into his sweatshirt. Although, it’s not that he opened your stuff without your consent that upset you the most. You whine while moving your face, “I just…wanted to do something different.”

“Hmm?” Geto’s hand doesn’t stop rubbing your back, speaking to you in a low mode. “What’s the reason, sweetie?”

“Because, well,” you chewed the inside of your cheek as they warmed. “I just felt like I wasn’t…Like—sigh, you’ve done so much for me in this relationship, and I’m so lucky to have you as my boyfriend. But I feel like I don’t do my part as I should, you know?” Nothing is said from the other, so you continue. “I just–sniff–want you to know that I appreciate you and all you’ve done, although I didn’t know if my words would do me justice. So, I, uhh,” your thumbs find their way to fiddle with themselves. “I asked Shoko and Mei Mei for help and bought…..this to wear for you.”

Three seconds pass without saying anything, then six. At ten seconds, the silence suffocates you and probes your unease more and more. 

However, his chest’s sudden rise and fall startles you, along with his pleasant laughter. “So that’s what this is all about, huh?” Your body’s rigid compared to his lively motion. “My angel was gonna doll up for me?”

“Yeah, and you ruined it!” You fuss, your cute teary face all hot and puffy as you complain. “I just wanted to do something special for you after I finally muster up the courage to go out of my comfort zone and do something nice and…well, sexy,” you cringed internally at the final word. Yet, it was true. 

Geto hums through your explanation. “You’re always sexy to me.”

“That’s not the point!” He laughs at your remark, the sound filling you with warmth. “I–…I’m different compared to you. Whenever we’re out, you’re so much more social than me; I feel like I’m a burden or make it seem I need you to watch over me or something…And I know you’ve said you’re okay with it and don’t mind, but it’s….sniff–I don’t know, like I’m putting more on your plate when it’s more of a ‘me’ problem…”

Your eardrums pick up low chuckles. Then, like the Prince Charming he is, Geto uses his hand to bring your chin up. Your face warms up at his handsome face in your vicinity. “Baby, although I appreciate you going out your way to do something for me—believe me, I could jump over the moon right now—you don’t have to go outside what’s comfortable to you to impress me or anything.”

“But I—“

“I mean it; I really don’t mind that I have to be some voucher for you. It’s not a burden; that’s just who you are. And if that’s the case, you’re too cute as hell the way you are.” You didn’t see his small smile grow because your eyes bashfully averted away from his gaze. “Now, if you want to build your confidence, don’t be afraid to ask me for help, okay? No need to force yourself to change up for the sake of ‘appeasing’ me or feel as though you’re not fitting whatever bullshit mold of an appropriate partner you’re expected to be.”

“Suguru…”

“Y/n,” your name pierces your heart like an arrow as his hand prompts your face back to him; God, he’s so dreamy. “I like you no matter what. You’re my princess; your troubles are my troubles. I’d tell you long ago that you’re bothersome if it wasn’t. But you’re not, so don’t put too much weight on yourself. Promise not to stress yourself over this, okay?” He boops your nose, “Remember: communication is key, right?”

Once again, you’re reminded how lucky you are to have such a man like Suguru Geto to court you. So understanding and attentive to your feelings and wrapping you in his blanket of love constantly makes it hard not to fall in love all over again. Chewing your bottom lip doesn’t even help the heat of your cheeks creeping onto your ears. 

“You’re right,” you almost melt under his lips as he kisses your forehead. “I promise.”

“Good girl,” your heart skips a beat. “But what are we gonna do with all this?” He points to the open package with his chin. “Now I feel kinda bad for having you buy this for me and ruining the special occasion.”

Wincing at the box, you remove yourself from Geto’s embrace to inspect the contents. “Honestly, looking at them in real time, I regret buying them. I’ll return them tomorrow or Monday, seeing I don’t necessarily need—”

“Woah, woah,” you stop in your tracks at your boyfriend’s exclamation. “Why are you returning them?” 

Huh? “Well, I mean, there’s no need for them, no? It was meant to be a surprise.”

“Yeah, but you already spent so much money for my sake. Plus,” Geto picks up the bunny ear headband from the package. “If this is what you were gonna wear for me, then it would be kind of upsetting if I didn’t see you wear it at least once.”

Oh, God, no. “S–Suguru, it’s totally fine; I can just—“ Oh no, he’s looking at you with that face, his eyebrows slightly trenched with a minuscule sad glint in his expression. Your stomach was doing flips out of guilt and concern, and the formidable gets worse when he asks the following:

“Y/n,” you swallow spit thickly as the man dangles the headband around. “Would you please wear this tonight?”

The question nails you to the ground, frozen in place as it rings within your mind. You? Wearing this for tonight?! “N–No, I can’t!!”

“Why not? You bought it to be worn!”

“Yes, but t-that was before you looked through my package and didn’t give me the chance to try it on myself!” When you thought your face couldn’t get any hotter than before, the embarrassment of this predicament humbles you. “And thanks to you—“

“T-Thanks to me??”

“—I don’t wanna wear it anymore!!”

Geto raises his other hand in defense. “Okay, okay! Look, I’m sorry; it’s my bad. But, to be honest, I’m thrilled that you went out of your way to think of doing something for me out of nowhere, and as I’m looking at this outfit,” He glances at the rest of the materials in the box. “I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it.” You can’t tell if your heart is thumping from his words or because you’re about ten seconds away from combusting. “So…One night to test it out, yeah? And if you surely don’t like it, then you can ship it back tomorrow.”

He’s so good at that, using his charm and words to shade you into rational thought. You take a huge breath and exhale through stressed nostrils, and your wish to dig a hole and rot away increases. 

Of course, you bought the items to treat your boyfriend for something out of the norm; that was the entire point of the plan! But what is the use of following a plan when you’ve let your guard down, and the element of surprise backfires in a way that you had foolishly unforeseen?! There’s no way you could put that stuff on you now that you’ve been exposed. Absolutely not!

“I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it…”

And yet, Geto’s words repeat like a broken record, each time making you as timid as the last. He wants to see you wear what you had bought, so eager to marvel at his partner adorning such risqué clothing that you don’t comprehend how you put said purchase in your cart! The thought of wearing such a thing in front of your man bubbles an excitement that is borderline frightening yet new; picturing his expressions and imagining his compliments is dangerous for your brain to form a headache.

But not as dangerous as the slight friction of your inner thighs pressing close to each other.

With a stare downcast and fidgeting thumbs, you ask, “…Just for tonight?” 

And Geto assures you with a nod.

“Only for tonight.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Geto sat on the bed in silence, listening to the ticks of the bedroom clock on the wall as he waited patiently.

As you two entered the bedroom, the man found his place on the bed, a still figure in the dimly lit room. You, on the other hand, made a beeline straight towards the bathroom. “Wait here…D-Don’t peek inside!” You commanded him, your voice betraying a hint of shyness. He obeyed, settling on top of the comforter.

Minutes soon went to double digits; nervousness wasn’t something that usually struck Geto. But the more he sat on the bed and listened to your mutters behind the door–distancing the two–the more he couldn’t help but feel an itch to worry for you. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“Y–Yes!” That didn’t sound convincing… “I’ll be out in just a second!”

“Okay…”

And so he waited for a minute. Which turned to two minutes…Three…..

Anticipation transitioned to unease, calling out to you once more. “Y/n?” No answer; not a good sign. The tall man gets up and strides to knock on the bathroom door. “Baby? Everything alright?” Nothing, even if he knocks on the white surface again.

CREAAAAK…!

But his frets are handled once he hears the sound of the door opening slowly. He steps back to make way for the person on the other side of the door, and lo and behold, you stand.

There are things in Geto’s life that never cease to amaze him—you being one of them. From the moment he saw you, he swore that in his life, there had never been something that looked so mesmerizing and captured his eye in an instant, and Gojo and Shoko are always sure to tease the guy for such a confession. And the time you reciprocated his feelings and accepted being his domestic other half, words could not describe the elation his poor heart couldn’t handle. 

Right now, he is experiencing those same feelings when he’s with you. His expectations were blown out of the water once you entered the plane again.

Your face was the first thing he looked to, a sheepish yet cute expression that went with the adorable white bunny ear headband you adorned at the top of your head. Your casual attire had been withdrawn to the bathroom tiles, substituted with the outfit you had been fussing about until now. Your chest harbored a black lacy negligee with intricate designs that had Geto’s purple eyes dance and trace around; the faint drapes of the gown cascaded down to your upper thighs, yet your underwear could still be seen. It matched the lacy black thong that made your boyfriend gulp thickly at how gorgeous your hips looked–not to mention the tiny bow at the top center. And to complete the look, black stockings come up your knees.

“…”

There is silence between you and him. The only sound you can use to distract yourself is the beat of your heart.

“…”

But the longer you wait for a response, the louder the rhythm. 

“…”

The lack of his voice was killing you – eating you alive – and you’re sure that you’re bound to faint if this kept going. Did I wear it wrong? Do I look weird?! Oh God, please say some— 

“Y/n”

You squeaked. “Y-Yes?”

“Can you please,” Geto takes a few steps closer, enough for his hands to come around your waist and pull you in. You almost choke on the air. “Remind me to thank Mei Mei and Shoko first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“Wh–What the—What does that mean—?”

“You look amazing.” Three simple words have you still. “Like, seriously. Hold on, let me get a good look at you.” He leans around to look at the details of your sides, and your brain short circuits when he moves behind you and lifts the negligee to see the rear of your panties. What is happening… “Holy shit, this suits you so well.”

“Re…Really?”

“Really.” You can see the sincerity in his gaze as he surveys every physical thing about you. “I’m so tempted to grab my phone to take a picture.”

“Oh my God, please don’t!!” Your frightened hands grab his sweatshirt with a vigorous grip, contrasting the trembling owner. “Don’t take a picture, please!!”

“I won’t, I won’t!” the dark-haired partner assures you through a fit of laughter, his warm, slender hands finding your fists and pounding him. Again, you are frozen stiff when he kisses your temple. “Besides, I prefer not sharing something as beautiful with anyone else.”

You don’t know how many compliments you can take before spiraling into a puddle. “You really do like it.”

“I love it,” another kiss to your cheek while his hands now find purchase on your waist. Oxygen suddenly feels foreign when you’re so close to him to pick up the cologne on his clothes. “It looks so much better now that you’re wearing it. You really know how to spoil me, huh, angel.”

Was it him being spoiled right now or you? How he spoke to you had your heart racing uncontrollably since you left the bathroom. You’ve been a complete nervous wreck from the moment your friends probed you to buy this outfit up until now, and now you can honestly feel that you’re feeling a sense of glee wearing it because your boyfriend likes it so much. Regrets no longer linger in your bones, goosebumps calm down on your skin, and you hum as you return the embrace. 

That is…until you feel something pressed against you. Something….hard.

Curiosity sprinkles your pretty little head until it snaps and your hips sway to experiment. A subtle jolt rocks Geto—confirming your hypothesis.

“Su..Suguru…” You don’t know why, but the following words felt prohibited to leave your lips. “Is that—“

“Hnnm…Sorry,” he purrs abjectly. “Guess I got a little too excited.” He lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you, and your stomach churns at the sight of his stare, holding a misty, lustful glint. You don’t even mention his hands silently moving to cup your ass. “Is that too much, baby?”

Violet eyes latched with yours make you shiver, suppressing a gasp when he throws a slick rut to grind the tent of his dark sweatpants on you. “N–No!” You squeaked, feeling small when his smile got broader.

“So sweet like always,” a chaste, gentle kiss to your lips feels like clouds. He then steps back out of your arms, pulling down his sweats to reveal the erection contained by the boxer briefs. Geto sits on the edge of the bed and tilts his head. “So, will my sweet bunny girl care for me tonight?” Seeing you gawk at him, he stifles a chuckle, and it takes a good mental slap to bring you back to reality. A few seconds pass, and you finally build up the courage to walk forward and crouch between his spread legs. 

Mini prayers replay in your brain as your hand hesitantly touches the clothed shaft, the firmness of it getting stiffer and stiffer as your fingers touch thoroughly. When you’re ready, you bring the hem of his underwear down, welcoming his cock to the open air for it to intimidate you with its girth. Precum trails from the urethra, traveling down from the corona, foreskin, and underside. God, it’s been a while since you were up close and personal with this thing; its sheer size is enough to reconsider the regret you threw out minutes ago. Too late now, though.

Come on, Y/n, you use your inner thoughts to motivate you. You’re doing this for Suguru; don’t chicken out now! So, you bring your lips to meet the head of his cock, earning a hum from the man above. Blowjobs have never been your forte; again, it’s been a while since you’ve had his cock near anything outside of your lower regions. But today was different as you used your tongue to lick the lip of the cockhead, the salty flavor of his fluid teasing your tastebuds. And with the sounds of him whimpering, you begin to remember the routine as the seconds go. Your mouth takes in his tip with hollowed cheeks, and your hands grasp around the shaft before you glide up and down.

“Hahhhh, yes, sweetie,” Geto soothed, biting his lip at the display of you pleasing him with your plump lips. “Just like that…Nnngh…!” His words fuel more confidence in your motion, using this to move to the next step and take in as much of his shaft as you can. You don’t go all the way to the hilt–a task that you’re afraid will have you choking– but once you reach halfway, your head starts to bob up and down at a gradual pace. Black brows furrow at the movement; fuck, you felt so good for him. So nice and warm on his dick; he wouldn’t mind having his whole evening dedicated to this. “Fuck, my love, loosen your jaw for me…Mmmm, good girl, that’s it. Keep sucking like that.”

It’s not before long that you find the groove; albeit sucking on Geto amateurishly, he places a hand on your head, which you can only assume is that you’re doing a decent job. Saliva coats the limb busying your oral cavity, mixing with the excess come that escapes and spreads with your lips going to and fro. Your tongue goes on to flick and lap on his tip some more, evoking the hottest moans you’ve ever heard from him. And while you stroke his member, your free hand finds his scrotum and massages the pair in unison, a buck of his hips as your thumb presses down on the testicles with a curl. Your bobbing becomes frequent, a mediocre cadence that has your partner throw his head back. The veins scraping along the upper walls of your mouth are too erotic for your mind to comprehend

“Shiiiit, I can’t—Nnnmm!” He hisses before he cups your wet cheeks. “You’re doing so good, princess.”

Your eyes open and peer to the person talking above you. With a soft ‘pop,’ you release his length before placing sloppy kisses and licks. “Yew fink shoow?” You speak with a mouthful of his dick to his frenulum, humoring the dark-haired man.

“Yes, little bunny,” he teases, and you can sense the throbs between your legs getting worse after referring to you with that title. “Wait, I just remembered something…Hold on, lie on the bed for me.”

You’re gently pushed off him as Geto stands up from the bed, confused. You take your place atop the bed, and he grabs something from his sweatpants and heads into the bathroom. The sound of running water from the sink fills the silence before it’s shut off. He then returns to the bedroom holding a bottle of lube you’re familiar with in one hand, and the other with a wet, metal…fluffy…looks like a kind of—

Eyes shoot wide open when you finally register what he’s holding, and the anxiety hits you like a punch to haunt you. “Wh–W-Where did y-you get that?!”

“I saw that you left this in the box before dressing up,” no, you didn’t forget a damn thing. You deliberately avoided the very item that Geto was holding because looking at it was embarrassing enough; it would be horrifying to have this in the same room as you now! Between his thumb and forefinger was a metal butt plug–a small one, nothing too major–with what appeared to be a white fluff ball at the end. It’s meant to be worn with what you wore, but these bunny ears already trampled your dignity. Adding an anal toy to the frey might as well have you sign up for assisted suicide! “I figured we needed it to complete the look.”

“N-No! No, no, no, absolutely not!” Rejections fly out of your system. “That’s too much!”

Geto blinks. “You think so? It’s pretty small from what I’ve seen.”

You’ve seen these before!?!? “Even then, I don’t wanna—“

“Didn’t you see this with the set before you bought it?”

You almost choked on your tongue. “W-Well…Y-Yes, but,” your thumbs find themselves fidgeting, anything to distract the humiliation that overshadows your nervous state. “That doesn’t mean I wanted to…wear it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s—” embarrassing as hell! A bunny tail as a butt plug!? Just kill me!! “—It’s…..It’ll look weird on me.”

Oh, how you didn’t know how much of a switch that flipped for Geto, the other quietly thought to himself before speaking again. “Y/n,” you perked at the mention of your name. “Turn around for me.” Chewing on your lips, you shook your head—you knew what he was doing. “C’mon, now, I thought you were my sweet girl.” You flatten your lips when he comes close to squeeze your cheeks. “Please? Wear this for me, my little bunny?” 

Oh, for God’s sake, this night was getting more challenging to get through with the hour. Inner dialogue can’t even bring you to a consensus, as your conscience is getting in the way of coming to a decision. On the one hand, you feel as though you’re venturing out of your comfort zone enough, wearing this flustering nightgown and these damn bunny ears. Yet, at the same time, this isn’t about you; this is all meant to be for your partner, something entirely out of the norm to make him feel special. And you being reluctant to accept his wishes is just pushing you back to square one and defeating the purpose of this entire dilemma, right? 

Your hands find your face to shield, releasing a long sigh that should have stretched to your final days. Nonetheless, you slump your arms down in defeat, and a short nod is given: “.......okay.”

Without being told again, you feebly follow Geto’s request and turn around. Your lower half is the only thing in his line of sight. Your lips can’t stop quivering in such a position, and breathing becomes arduous once you feel your boyfriend’s weight dent the mattress. You jolt when his hand comes to the top of your laced thong, bringing the material down to expose the bare skin of your ass to him. Damn it! A pillow within your proximity is brought to your face, using it to hide yourself from the world.

However, “Aww, don’t be so shy on me, baby,” Slender fingers faintly brush from your spine down to the very crevice of your bottom, making your body shudder. “Shouldn’t be hiding that pretty face from me.” The sound of your gasp, when his lubed fingers teeter around your rear entrance, ignites a flame, and now he has a thirst he’s itching to indulge with. “Shhhh, breathe, my love. Gonna go real nice and slow for you, okay?”

The pillow muffles your moans as Geto begins to push one finger inside your puckered hole slightly. The stretch of the digit is a pain you have never experienced, making you whimper like a poor babe. Your boyfriend coaxes you through it, adding more lube to ease your ass as his finger goes back and forth to prepare you. Adding another finger causes you to shake your head, and your entrance accommodates the insertions, whether you like it or not.

A full minute or more passes where your ass is played with, and Geto smoothes you with a rub of your buttcheeks as he removes his digits out of your lubed hole. “Now, time to test this out…” A sudden chill has your arch, and the cold metal of the butt plug has you clamping involuntarily, yet the raven-haired partner reminds you to relax your body while he pushes the toy inside you. It doesn’t invade with the snap of the finger; thirty seconds in, and your butthole is slowly but surely adapting to the alien plaything. And before you know it, you feel the whole thing finally be swallowed into your rear walls; you grip the pillow as your mouth releases silent cries. 

“Haaah…I-Is it in?” You lifted your head to inquire. 

“Yes, angel,” he playfully smacks your ass, and you jerk at the unexpected contact. “Damn, now you look all cute and sexy with this on.” Geto then shifts to stand on his knees before maneuvering above you, removing the pillow from beneath you so you can’t hide yourself from him any longer. And more trembles crawl all over your body when you feel his solid cock create friction on the rift of your ass. “Lift your butt a bit for me,” your hips follow his hands, guiding you upward until you meet his pelvis. “Good girl…Gonna start putting it inside, okay?”

You nod leisurely, grabbing the comforter beneath you as Geto pulls the thong to the side. It’s no surprise to see that your cunt is covered in your slick, the tip of his member queued to kiss your labia. The lascivious man hisses at the sensation, anticipation climbing up as he pushes himself unhurriedly. The same goes for you, your mouth agape with quieted shrieks when the cockhead makes it inside your vagina, gripping the sheets as he slowly pushes more of himself, every inch of his penis becoming greater and greater, inaudible babbles once the base meets your folds.

Geto allows you a couple of seconds to stabilize your breathing, starting with excruciatingly slow thrusts–so painfully slow that you can feel every dent and vein that ventures inward and outward your chasm; it’s hard for your hips not to move on their own. With every pull, your inner walls clench on the shaft as if wanting more as he leaves your warmth. And every push makes you full to the brink of tears, and your brows trenched together as your fists ball the sheets.

“Mmaahh…Nnahaah…!” The brush of your velvety channel feels good within the minute, and the insertion pain is now being replaced with pleasure. Your roll to the ceiling at the graze of your G-spot, the butt plug made your nerves more sensitive with how busy your lower half was. And once he’s warmed up enough, your companion turns up the speed of his ruts. “Taahhh, I, ohhhGod…! Sugu—Oooo!!” Did he just poke your cervix!? You sobbed out loud.

“Nnmm, holy shiiit, you feel so good, sweetie,” Geto moans, taking in the view before him. The lingerie you were wearing gave a beautiful image of your backside, his indigo orbs survey from the muscles of your back to your prompted ass. Holy hell, it was driving him crazy, watching how the flesh of your butt reverberates with the smack of his pelvis. It makes him want to go ever faster, harder. And don’t get him started on the white bunny tail butt plug; shit was too cute to resist and toy with, pulling on the item lightly and turning it around.

The action had your holes clenching simultaneously. “Shh–Shhtop, Suguuu!!” You wailed out, toes curling as he taunted your anus with light pulls and pushes. “D-Don’t do that…!”

“Heh, sorry, my bunny girl,” God, the way he was teasing you was literal hell on Earth with how he’s using your body right now. “You know I can’t help myself when it comes to you…Aiisshh! Fuhuck, you’re squeezing me so hard…Hmm? You like it when I tease you, huh, baby?”

You shook your head no in a rushed manner, the heat of your face already coursing to your ears. But then your frame jerked along with the sound of something, and it was a hand smacking on the skin of your butt.

“Now, don’t be like that,” Geto chuckles above you as you cry. The same hand he used to slap you soothes the blow. “You know you can be honest with me. At least your body is…Don’t you like being close to me like this?” You don’t reply, too busy squealing at another graze of your sensitive spots.  So, he slaps your buttocks once more. “Don’t ignore me, love.”

“—Mmmph! Ahh-hahh, I-I,” You swallow spit before choking on it. “I can’t…Hic, it’s shoh embarrassing…!”

“Aww, is the little bunny still scared?” He then bends down to your ear, a big move on his part as you swear you’re bound to shut down from the closeness. “Hmm? What’s so embarrassing?”

A sluggish pull back before Geto snaps his hips into you harshly, another jab to your cervix practically has you seeing stars. “Hoooh!! Be–Becausee!!” God, it’s so hard to think right now, the pound of your head getting harsher with the increased heat. “Y–You—Ahhaa! Youu make me…s-sound sho dirt—Eeeyahh!” 

“Oh?” He licks your ear before nibbling on the helix. “You don’t like it when I fuck you like this? Don’t like it when I whisper to your ear while you scream for me?” You shake your head no, which is extinguished once Geto stuffs your mouth with his fingers. Your tongue, played with by his fore and middle finger, has you mewling like no tomorrow. “Hmmm, that’s a funny thing to say when your pussy can’t stop twitching on me. Make it seem like you’re not embarrassed to milk my cock dry, huh, princess.” 

“Nnoohh, it’s not—hic—not like that!” A tear trickles down a hot cheek as you suck on his fingers, his thumb there unaware to wipe it. “Don’t say stuff like that…!”

“Why? Too crude for my angel’s ears?” He keeps teasing you, “Even though we’ve fucked lots of times, you still act like such a cutie.”

“Stooop,” Lord have mercy. Any more than this, and you’re bound to melt away sooner rather than later. “D-Don’t tease me…”

He can’t help it, not when you sound so cute and flustered because of him. It makes him think of an idea and straightens himself off of you. But not away from you — he then grabs your leg and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other, changing the position so you can look at each other. Something a lot more intimate as he goes back to drilling his length into your heat. With a smug grin, he asks, “Is this less embarrassing for you, sweet baby?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your throat; no, this is much worse! Your shrieks returned to erupt out of your figure as Geto’s pace increased. The new angle achieves having his dick venture deeper inside your throbbing channel, pounding to you until the hilt meets your southern lips, and the bump and grind of your clitoris with the motion is enough to have you winded. “—Ohoohh!! Dooahh! N-Nooo, d-don’t look…!” You try to shield your face with your forearm.

Yet Geto instantly refutes that, using his free hand to move it while he bends back down; his added weight has you whining aloud. “Don’t do that,” he groans at the contract of your walls, retaliating with more rough plunges. “No more hiding from me; I wanna see that pretty face always.”

“Suguu, pleasee—Nnnn!” Scrapes to the walls of your vaginal walls are even more dangerous in this position. “T’oo faaast!!”

“Hnngh! FFfuckin’ shit…But you feel so good,” Geto presses his forehead onto yours. “You feel so good, you look so good, like holy fuck! You drive me too crazy; it’s–Ghhh!- just not right how you can make me go wild. I wanna see it all, wanna see how cute you look, how dirty you look, and how fucking hot you sound because of me—and only me.” A kiss to your nose before placing one on the corner of your lips. “Starting now, I wanna see all these sides of you, so don’t hide them from me…” 

You are given no room to reply to his statements as a kiss to your mouth finally seals the deal for tonight. Light pecks gradually dwell into steamy, longing smooches, tongue and teeth classing for intimacy. It’s all it takes for you to sink into his touch finally and the comforter beneath you, submitting to him as he finishes you off.  

Geto then rolls his hips at an erratic cadence, and relentless hits to your cervix have you blubbering helplessly into his lips. Ungovernable throbs around his girth are ineluctable, the climb of your orgasm climbing up tenfold with the brush of your clit up against his pelvis. OhhhGod! It’s coming, I’m gonna—“Mmmmph!”

The peak of your crescendo has you moaning deep into the kiss, your writhing figure submitted to the end of your session as your cunt flutters around Get’s girth as the shocks of the climax rock your entire body. And your contraction is all your partner needs to let go of the reins and cease to his own release, his pulsating shaft expelling his load deep into your palpitating vagina. The two of you continue to kiss as your bodies heave and jolt, with the last of the aftershocks coursing through your nerves. 

He breaks the kiss, the two of you gasping for air in sync. Drool slips from your lips and comes down to your chin, and Geto smiles before kissing your cheek. “Thank you for the gift,” he commends you. “Ya sure I can’t get at least one picture of you?”

You’re undoubtedly out of breath, yet your facial expression doesn’t fail to display unease. “Please…stop teasing me,” you sniffle with hooded eyes.

“Okay, my sweet bunny girl,” he chortles. “Well, at the very least, let’s go another round, ‘kay?”

“Wha—H-huh!?!?”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…I will never listen to your advice ever again.”

“Wow, rude?”

“Right, like whatever happened to ’thank you’?”

As far as mornings go, this one was ultimately out of the norm. When was the last time you woke up with your body sore to the bone? Because the moment the sun’s rays peaked through the curtains and landed on your eyes, you couldn’t move a single finger or toe without feeling a sense of heaviness. Or maybe it was because you found that your tall boyfriend was still sound asleep; his slim frame was spooning you close to him. You could hear his light snore as he rested in the crook of your neck and arm to your shoulder with a strong leg between yours. 

Your face warmed up at the realization that he was so close to your proximity, and it only worsens when you realize that you both are in the nude, which rarely [if not NEVER] happens! Where’s your pajamas? At the very least, an oversized shirt and panties! 

But you couldn’t find them anywhere. All you could see was a black negligee and a white bunny-eared headband, and memories of last night finally started to swim into your brain. But the true horror was when you saw the butt plug from before down on the comforter, and it slipped past your mind not to scream and kick the item in humiliating terror while abruptly waking up your partner. WHAT THE FUUUUCK!??!?

And to add the nail to the coffin, your body didn’t look like how you left it yesterday. As you got up to head for the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and felt like you witnessed a scene from a horror movie. Your skin was covered in light bruises and bitemarks, discoloration where it’s implied there were hickeys received all around your neck, stomach, and inner thighs. You were still wearing the black knee-high stockings. However, those looked utterly different from how they looked initially; tears and holes were found all over, but most prominently, the inside of your upper thigh area.

Speechless was the word to describe your puzzlement—appalled, dumbstruck, void of thinking as your reflection showcased an entirely different person. Th-…There’s no way… That’s all you could say to yourself, but it was the way.

Once Geto left for work, it wasn’t any easier for you to work around the house. Working remotely suddenly became an obstacle, as every time your mind recalled the events that transpired the night before, you’d become too flustered to continue your work. You couldn’t even walk into your shared bedroom, too rattled to the point that you just used the guest bathroom! The notion of embarrassment was getting challenging to function today; had you known this would’ve been the effect of buying that damn outfit, you would’ve stopped yourself!

Hence, you’re now complaining to the people who probed you to purchase it in the first place. “A ‘thank you’? I could barely enter past the threshold of my own room, and you want me to thank you!?”

It was late afternoon. You were washing dishes and drying them in the kitchen while putting them aside. But you weren’t alone; your laptop sat at the kitchen island with an application running. On the screen, a window harbored two screens with different faces: one woman with brown hair appearing to smoke out her balcony, and the other with pale blue hair styling her hair to a bun. 

The brunette, Shoko, responds to your words. “Y/n, calm down; all you did was have sex in a bunny costume; nothing radioactive happened there.”

“Yeah, well, I feel like I did something radioactive!” You retorted, wiping the sponge across the wet plate concerningly fast. You pick up the headband from last night and grimace. “Damn this headband…God, I’m so sore.”

“Having sex for an hour straight will do that to a person,” a nerve is stricken when the other speaks; Mei Mei is now done styling the back of her hair with a sly smile. “Pfft, I still find it funny that you passed out.”

“It’s not funny!!” To your dismay, you only make your two best friends laugh even harder. “This is not how this is supposed to be; I don’t even recognize my own body…You saw the pictures!”

Shoko titters, “Yeah, I saw, and it looks like Geto couldn’t keep his hands off you.” She takes a drag of her cigarette and exhales the smoke. “Isn’t that a good thing, though? It means that he liked the gift and appreciated it tenfold.”

“Exactly,” Mei Mei agrees. Your complaints seem to suggest that we completed the mission of making him feel special—which was, you know, the main reason you wanted to do it in the first place.”

“Oh, he felt special, alright,” you said, placing a dry plate on the rest. Although you’d been in a constant state of indignity, what they were saying was true. The whole point of making a fool of yourself and wearing a costume was meant to be outside the norm. It’s exciting for you and Geto, and you can assume that the outcome brought a satisfying end for both parties.

…However, it would be nice if it didn’t cost you a lot of hickeys and soreness. You sighed heavily, “You’re right…I’m just happy that he enjoyed it. He even said I looked cute dressed as his little bunny.”

“I bet!! Why didn’t you take pictures!?” Shoko complains, her device coming closer to her face to emphasize her disheartened tone of voice. 

“I would rather die than have photos of that of me around,” the thought alone causes an unsettling quiver.

But Mei Mei also voices her grievances. “Ehhh, but I bet you looked so adorable~. You better take pictures the next time you do something like that!”

You could’ve sworn your neck was nearly to break when you snapped your head to look at your laptop screen. “Are you insane; what do you mean next time?” 

A silver brow rises. “Oh, be real, Y/n; you really think this is some one-and-done type thing? I bet you ten dollars that Geto would love to pull those bunny ears out again.” 

The brunette chuckles after exhaling more smoke from her pretty lips. “Aye, maybe we should find you some more outfits to wear for him. Maybe we should have you in a fox costume next.”

Your mouth drops in displeasure, but Mei Mei beats you into saying something. “Mmm, now that’s a good idea; I saw something online with cute ears and a skirt. And,” her lavender eyes narrow with a scoff. “I’m sure you’d love to wear the butt plug tail of that one too, Y/n—“

“GOODBYE!!”

You slapped your laptop screen down as your farewell to your best friends, whom you’re sure are probably laughing to themselves for witnessing your reaction. 

Your cheeks are so hot that they are in discomfort; unbelievable. A next time!? You couldn’t comprehend the possibility that you’d be wearing something like last night again. Could you even look at bunny ears the same again after what just happened?! Bunny tails, too; what you primitively thought was cute and pure has now been tarnished to a suggestive and erogenous image. No, there’s unquestionably no way you would be put into that position ever again. No, no, nope, and no!!

DING-DONG!!

The sudden noise of the doorbell diminishes your reluctant energy within milliseconds. You checked the kitchen clock — Geto should be coming home right about now, but why would he be ringing the bell? Inquisitiveness draws up to your shoulders as you dry your hands, taking light steps to the door and opening it after unlocking. 

You leave a small opening to peak through, “Y-Yes?”

“Is that the lovely Y/n I’m seeing~?”

That voice…Not Geto’s, but familiarity sparks up, and recognition prompts you to open the door wider. 

Pure snowy white hair is the first thing that captures your attention, along with the dark shades concealing its owners’ eyes—a signature look of your partner’s friend, “Sa–Satoru?”

“Aye, you remembered to call me by my first name that time!” The named man was dressed down in his work attire, his hand holding his black blazer while he brought his sunglasses up for his azure eyes to throw a wink at you. “It’s been a while, huh?”

“It has!” Your perplexity was evident in your tone; you had forgotten just how tall the man was. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was finally able to catch your boy-toy here before ditching me at work,” Gojo brings your boyfriend into view with the tug of his collar, the raven-haired man expressing nothing but total irritation. “Dude owes me dinner, and I heard someone is cooking a nice meal tonight! Have room for another person?”

“Who said you were invited?” Geto questions his best friend after getting out of his hold.

“I did!” The white-haired man answers. “You owe me for saving your ass yesterday with that file scare—you’re welcome, by the way,” he ignores the glare of his friend. “And just be glad I’m asking for a home-cooked meal, or else I’d be draining your pockets at that new steak place that opened up recently.” 

“Unbelievable…” Geto sighs exasperately. “Hurry up and get in.”

You move out of the way so the men can enter your abode. “Excuse my intrusion~,” the blue-eyed man says as he takes off his dress shoes in the foyer and happily walks to the living room. 

Your boyfriend shakes his head, “Sorry ‘bout this, baby.”

“It’s okay; I was done washing dishes anyway.”

“Mmm,” he brings you in for a hug, part of the routine when he returns home. “How’re you feeling now?” 

Your heart skips a beat. “I feel…okay, still sore, but, you know…” He smelt so good, his cologne pleasantly sinking you in. 

“Heh, sorry,” he kisses your temple. “I had a good time; you really spoiled me.”

The heat in your cheeks ventures to your ears and nape, and your heart returns to racing at an irregular dance. The memories of last night all come back to haunt you once more; images of you being bent into different positions and crying out for Geto hit you one after the other. The lewd thoughts are too much for your pretty little head, especially when you imagine the tall, dark-headed man all sweaty and panting above you with a grin on his face like last night.

At this point, your face will need an ice pack because it’s getting hot. “I’m..really glad you liked it.”

“Loved it,” he takes your hand and after removing his shoes. “Can’t wait to try it again next time.”

And with those last two words, the world suddenly fell to a standstill. You didn’t hear what you just heard—no, you didn’t. “N-Next time?” You repeat.

“Of course!” he leads you down the hall to the open space. What, you thought you’d spend all that money on me for just one night?” No, I HOPED so! “Besides, I was looking online during my break at work, and I saw this fox variant look that I think would look real good on you—”

You couldn’t believe your ears; not only did Mei Mei prove you wrong, but now you have to deal with your boyfriend’s interest in wanting to indulge more in this idea you’ve brought into the relationship. What you thought and hoped would be for one night is now bound to haunt you for many days to come, and that thought in itself had you shaking in your slippers.

As well as the fact that you now owe your best friend cash for jinxing this situation. Damn her!

“Yo, Suguru.”

You perk up when you hear Gojo’s voice as you two enter the kitchen area. And just when you thought this world couldn’t chew and spit you out enough, the image of the white-haired man standing beside the kitchen island holding something in his hand mortifies you to the core.

“What’s with the bunny ear headband? I thought Easter went and passed already.” 

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by alp (ringoya) + dividers by @/cafekitsune.

[prokopetz]

I apologise if you've already answered this, but I tried searching your blog and I'm unsure if you haven't or if it's another example of Tumblr's amazing search system.

I was talking with a friend recently about how much of a culture clash the Monk Class is compared to the rest of Dungeons & Dragons and was wondering if there is a coherent reason for their original inclusion. I'm aware that they're largely influenced by Shaolin monks as depicted in Hong Kong cinema in the 70's/80's as compared to the Sword and Sorcery stuff most of the rest of D&D takes influence from.

Basically, my question ultimately boils down to, "Is the Monk Class there purely because of an original player wanting to rule of cool their way into playing something wildly out of genre, or is there a stronger link between Sword and Sorcery and Hong Kong cinema that could have organically resulted in the Monk Class joining the rest of the classes?"

A lot of the link between the two was simply a matter of time and place. The kung fu craze hit North America at just about exactly the same time as the sword and sorcery revival that gave us films like Clash of the Titans and Beastmaster and The Sword and the Sorcerer and Dragonslayer and Krull – not to mention the Arnold Schwarzenegger Conan adaptation, which revived popular interest in first-wave sword and sorcery literature – so there was a lot of it going around. Analysis of early Dungeons & Dragons as a product of its media influences often overlooks that it was largely drawing on what was trendy in American popular media in the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s. Even the tonally incongruous Lord of the Rings references weren't a deep cut; while the books were originally published in the 1950s, they'd experienced a strong resurgence in the 1970s, putting them firmly in the popular consciousness at the time that D&D was being developed. All this being the case, it's not surprising that early D&D was also substantially influenced by Hong Kong action cinema.

That said, the reason the monk character class in particular (i.e., as opposed to kung fu media influences more generally) is there is allegedly because one specific guy in one of the game's early playtest groups really, really wanted to play as Remo Williams from Warren Murphy and Richard Sapir's The Destroyer; several of the class's signature abilities are direct references to powers Williams exhibits in the course of the novels. Remarks from folks who worked at TSR at the time have pointed the finger at Brian Blume as the Remo Williams fan in question, though accounts are conflicted whether Blume was actually an uncredited contributor to Dave Arneson's Blackmoor (1975), in which the class makes its first proper appearance, or whether Blume's interest merely prompted its inclusion.

This is the case for the character archetypes in a lot tabletop RPGs of that era; instead of trying to work out what classes "ought" be be present, authors would simply start with the types of characters their playtesters actually wanted to play, often based on specific popular media characters, then work backwards to derive an IC rationale for why those were the setting's standard adventuring professions. Other examples from D&D in particular most obviously include the Ranger (based on Tolkien's Aragon, naturally), but also the Paladin (principally inspired by Holger Carlsen from Poul Anderson's 1961 isekai novel Three Hearts and Three Lions, also the source of D&D's goofy regenerating trolls), the Assassin, back when it was still a separate character class (probably mainly based on the Assassin Caste from John Norman's Gor), and even the Wizard to a large extent (less Gandalf than you'd think: a large portion of D&D's iconic wizard spell list is lifted directly from the 1963 Vincent Price film The Raven).

(I often think that modern indie RPGs could benefit from reviving this approach. Like, fuck textual consistency – just pick half a dozen of your favourite popular media characters without regard for the compatibility of the source material and work backwards to explain why these six random assholes are your game's playable archetypes!)

[gyudons]

despicable

updates as of 22 oct

Travis Dermott knew that he would draw attention with his actions in the Coyotes’ home opener against the Anaheim Ducks at Mullett Arena on Saturday. The Arizona defenseman just hoped that the spotlight might shine on the issue that he was addressing, not on him.

“You don’t really want to go against rules that are put in place by your employer, but there’s some people who took some positive things from it,” Dermott said. “That’s kind of what I’m looking to impact.

“You want to have everyone feel included and that’s something that I have felt passionate about for a long time in my career. It’s not like I just just jumped on this train. It’s something that I’ve felt has been lacking in the hockey community for a while. I feel like we need supporters of a movement like this; to have everyone feel included and really to beat home the idea that hockey is for everyone.”

“I won’t lie,” said Dermott, who is playing on a one-year, two-way contract. “From the outside, it’s easy to see that I’m putting my career on the line for something. I definitely went through some emotional ups and downs that night, not regretting anything by any means, but I’d love to have maybe done a couple of steps a little different by making sure that everyone was aware of what was going on before I did it.

“I don’t want to put my teammates or my coaches or my GMs or the equipment managers in any kind of bad light when it’s their job to kind of look out for something like this happening. It was definitely something that I did just by myself and was prepared to kind of deal with whatever repercussions the league decides to push towards that. I’m not going to back off and say that this battle is won, but we’re going to find better ways to do it.”

As Dermott noted, LGBTQ+ inclusion is an issue that he has supported for a long time. Without getting into specifics, Dermott said the issue is personal for him because it impacts people close to him.

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t shed tears about this on multiple occasions,” he said. “So yeah, it’s something I’m definitely very passionate about.

“I’ve met a lot of people that from the outside, it looks like they have everything going right in their life and they have a smile on their face every time they talk to you. But sometimes when we get closer to people and get comfortable enough for them to open up to you, you can see that there’s some pretty dark stuff happening to some good people. It doesn’t take too many times encountering something like that for it to really change someone.

“I’ve been blessed to have some of those opportunities put in front of me to really change my view of what being a good person means; what being a good father and a good example and role model means going forward. You really see how people are hurting and it’s because of a system that maybe no one’s intentionally trying to be malicious about, but until you’ve really had that first-person experience seeing people hurting from it right in front of you, it’s tough to kind of take steps.”

It would be a surprise if the league handed down any sort of punishment. The optics alone would add to the public relations damage that the original ban created. Even so, Dermott reiterated his desire to bring the entire franchise into the fold before he takes similar actions in the future, but he also made it clear that he will not be silenced on the topic.

“It’s not like I’m shutting up and going away,” he said. “I know more questions are going to be coming. We’re just going to be as prepared as we can be to just spread love. That’s the thing. It’s gay pride that we’re talking about, but it could be men’s health. It could be any war. It’s just wanting world peace. Everyone’s got to love each other a little bit more.

“Like my parents said growing up, ‘How awesome would it be to be the guy that people look up to?’ That’s what really hit home when I was a kid, especially from my mom. You want to grow up and be that guy. You want to be the guy that’s having the impact on kids like NHL players had on you. If they had been racist or bigoted, that’s going to have an effect on you.

“With how many eyes are on us, especially with the young kids coming up in the new generation, you want to put as much positive love into their brain as you can. You want them to see that it’s not just being taught or coming from maybe their parents at home. They need to see it in the public eye for it to really make an effect.”

[icewindandboringhorror]

Other Misc. Rambling Thoughts on the topic:

(~ !!!!!!!!! if you're just reblogging this post for the Poll section, please reblog the original post without this addition* lol. ~)

(*not that there's anything super personal or weird about the addition, just that it's meant to be kind of casual Side Commentary, not really part of the Main Point Of The Poll, so it would feel kind of weird for it to be emphasized by being included in reblogs unless the reblogs were explicitly about the side commentary, etc..... if that makes sense.. ANYWAY!)

It's neat to read the written descriptions that people are mentioning in the tags, since it's almost like I can see or conceptualize the idea as well, but it's just.. I'm not SEEING it.

Like for example: I can imagine a vase, it's a muted mint green and slightly translucent, elaborate golden birds sprawled down the side in streaks of thin rough watery paint, the base material shimmers gently in the light, there's a small chip where it's cracked on the handle, etc, etc. .. But as I'm thinking about this I see literally nothing.

It seems like perhaps some people can visualize an object first, and THEN describe what they see. But I sort of work backwards. I am building the object in my mind, I can never see it, but it's a collection of concepts. Rather than visualizing all details as a whole at once, I am adding each detail one by one, building onto the IDEA of the thing.

The vase doesn't have a crack on the handle because I just automatically visualized a vase with a crack. It was more that I cognitively understand the concept of a vase, what they tend to be made out of, how they tend to look and feel, the properties they have. So based purely on that knowledge, I can imagine "a chip is something that a vase could have, it would look this way and behave this way" - more like... I'm constructing a bullet point Fact List about the object rather than seeing it.

So if you tell me to imagine an object, I can, in a way, imagine that object in great detail, but it's just.. I'm not SEEING those details, more just knowing it's qualities in a purely conceptual way. Sometimes in the tags when people are like "yeah I can see the skin of the apple, texture, little dots on the surface" it's like… I can imagine that too, I can know it's there, but just with no visual attached.

I guess rather than SEEING something and going ''ah. I know what this looks like because I have seen it''. I more just skip that visual step entirely and go ''I know what this looks like, I just randomly have a list of information about the concept in my mind.'' etc. Maybe similar to how sometimes in dreams, even though a house may look completely different and be in an entirely fake 'dreamlike' environment, you just somehow KNOW intuitively that it's meant to be your childhood home or something. Even when it looks nothing like it in reality. There's a built-in base knowledge of the properties or information of some things within a dreaming mind, etc.

--

This also makes me wonder about like.. how storytelling and myth is so important to cultures all across time. Or how this could tie also into concepts of religion.. etc. etc. If so many people really can kind of conjure these vivid images in their mind, then maybe that's part of why certain things are so meaningful to them? Like a "religious experience" being something you can actually really SEE/feel/lingering with you in your head, rather than just abstract words on a page, detached purely theoretical ideas, etc... hmmm

.

Plus also just for average emotional stuff too, even outside of broader cultural conceptual attachments..

Like, I don't think there's a direct 1 to 1 link (obviously not all people with mental illnesses that significantly reduce their emotional or expressive capacity also MUST have aphantasia or vice versa), but it's interesting as someone who DOES also have a much more lessened emotional range/pretty flat affect/etc. etc. to think like.. Maybe I WOULD be more emotional, in a way, if I could have these vivid experiences..?

Perhaps memories would hold deeper significance if they could really stay with me vividly. Or storytelling would evoke more of a deep emotional reaction to me if I could really picture and feel the things that are going on. If things were more TANGIBLE in my brain, rather than always merely conceptual highly abstracted ideas.

Kind of like, it's probably easier to get over the death of a pet or something, if after not seeing them for an hour you already don't remember what they looked like (beyond just a vague fact list of traits), and you have no vivid memories or mental reminders of them (beyond just factual information stores). COGNTIVIELY you can appreciate the idea of their absence, of course, you still miss them, but there's just no remaining visceral sensory ties. A very "out of sight, out of mind" sort of thing in terms of attachments, memories, emotions, etc. Maybe certain things are easier to "get over", when you're not having constant mental sensory reminders that occasionally rekindle your feelings about the event or etc.??

(like for example, maybe someone could remain angry about an argument longer if they could vividly replay it in their head over and over again. VS just like.. 'Yes I can factually recall the fact I had an argument, and I do have knowledge stored about what precisely was said, but any sort of sensory data such as sights/smells/feelings, etc. from the actual moment of the event are long gone and can never be conjured again in my mind." etc.)

Which again, I think lessened emotional permanence and image permanence in the mind are NOT inherently linked, can all be caused by different things for different people. And, since I can't visualize anything in my head, maybe I'm misunderstanding how it happens and the effect it may have on stuff like remembering things you miss or replaying arguments, etc. etc. But it's still a little interesting to think about, if they could influence each other to some degree.... :0c --

Lastly, It's also weird because I'm actually pretty good at estimating distance and spaces? I can quickly assemble furniture without an instruction manual, pretty easily have a concept of how much space a chair may take up in a room, how two mechanical parts might fit together - BUT, I am literally not actually visualizing anything. I cannot see 3D objects in my mind at ALL. It's like.. just based on the pure List Of Facts About Things Which I Have Observed.. I can intuitively go "oh this works like this/this is this size" just because.. I know it's that size. I don't have to see anything to know..?

But then on the other hand, I'm terrible at directions without a map (I guess because a 3d outdoor environment has WAY more complexity than like.. "Will this square fit into another square?"etc. lol ).

BUT, I also draw/sculpt/etc. entirely without references, and seem to do mostly okay at that..? Like.. I can't even remember the last time I actually used a reference or looked at anything whilst drawing. It's all muscle memory, and me just adjusting as I go until something "looks right" on paper, I never have a set image in my head (or external reference) before hand.. Hrmm....

AND.. I used to say that I had a photographic memory when I was younger, which I know NOW is not true (I always thought it was just an expression, not that people could literally see things in a photographic way). But what I was describing is, I do often associate information with imagery, just... without imagery....

Like "Oh, I know that I took my medicine earlier today because I have a distinct memory, a snapshot of a moment in time, of me rattling the pill bottle in my hands as I looked up at a stop sign while in the back seat of a car". When I say this, I can't ACTUALLY see/feel/hear a pill bottle, or vividly picture a stop sign, but it's more just a factual recall, of. Even though I don't see these things, I know they happened, the information of them happening (me hearing a sound and also looking at a stop sign at the same time) has been stored in my brain as a memory, a collection of linked facts. --

As for other senses, I cannot taste or feel anything in my head AT ALL.. wild that some people mention that. I mean, again, I can have a purely factual recall as if reading a textbook, knowing the information of 'X item typically has X texture, therefore I can imagine what it may be like to feel it' or 'X usually has this taste' etc. - but I can never actually experience those senses in any capacity in my mind alone. I would say audio is my strongest mental sense (maybe a 2.5 or 3 (if it were translated onto the above scale where 1 is most vivid and 5 is nothing)), then visual (4.5 at most, usually 5), and then taste and smell and such are just complete 5, absolutely nothing, I didn't even know people could experience taste or feeling just in their mind alone.. lol...

I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :

-

(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )

[xitsensunmoon]

HOW TO GLAZE YOUR WORK WITHOUT A GOOD PC(or on mobile)/TIPS TO MAKE IT LESS VISIBLE

Glaze your work online on:

Cara app. It requires you to sign up but it is actually a good place for your portfolio. Glazing takes 3 minutes per image and doesn't require anything but an internet connection compared to 20-30 minutes if your pc doesn't have a good graphic card. There IS a daily limit of 9 pictures tho. Glazed art will be sent to you after it's done, by email. It took me 30 minutes to glaze 9 images on a default setting. Cara app is also a space SPECIFICALLY for human artists and the team does everything in their power to ensure it stays that way.

WebGlaze. This one is a little bit more complicated, as you will need to get approval from the Glaze team themselves, to ensure you're not another AI tech bro(which, go fuck yourself if you are). You can do it through their twitter, through the same Cara app(the easiest way) or send them an email(takes the longest). For more details read on their website.

Unfortunately there are no ways that I know of to use Nightshade YET, as it's quite new. Cara.app definitely works on implementing it into their posting system tho!

Now for the tips to make it less visible(the examples contain only nightshade's rendering, sorry for that!):

Heavy textures. My biggest tip by far. Noise, textured brushes or just an overlay layer, everything works well. Preferably, choose the ones that are "crispy" and aren't blurred. It won't really help to hide rough edges of glaze/nightshade if you blur it. You can use more traditional textures too, like watercolor, canvas, paper etc. Play with it.

Colour variety. Some brushes and settings allow you to change the colour you use just slightly with every stroke you make(colour jitter I believe?). If you dislike the process of it while drawing, you can clip a new layer to your colour art and just add it on top. Saves from the "rainbow-y" texture that glaze/nightshade overlays.

Gradients(in combination with textures work very well). Glaze/nightshade is more visible on low contrast/very light/very dark artworks. Try implementing a simple routine of adding more contrast to your art, even to the doodles. Just adding a neutral-coloured bg with a darker textured gradient already is going to look better than just plain, sterile digital colour.

And finally, if you dislike how glaze did the job, just try to glaze/shade it again. Sometimes it's more visible, sometimes it's more subtle, it's just luck. Try again, compare, and choose the one you like the most. REMEMBER TO GLAZE/SHADE AFTER YOU MADE ALL THE CHANGES, NOT BEFORE!!

If you have any more info feel free to add to this post!!

[mrpenguinpants]

Just the weight I needed.

— You ask to sit on his back while he does push-ups.

— Phainon, Mydei + Jing Yuan

[Masterlist]

After that monster of a Lighter fic, I just wanted to write something nice and silly. I'm serious, the next fic I write might actually be 20k words. The title is from BSD btw, love and kisses to whoever gets it.

Phainon

Realistically, if you brought the idea up to Phainon, it could go one of two ways. One possibility is that he’d be fully on board—no hesitation, no questions asked, as if he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life. He’d immediately drop to the ground in one fluid motion, presenting his back like a beautifully adorned, living throne, every muscle flexing with anticipation. His arms would be poised, elbows bent just enough to secure the perfect balance, ready to support you as he began his impromptu strength training. His determined blue eyes would gleam with unshakable resolve, like a knight pledging his undying loyalty to his sovereign. To him, carrying you wouldn’t just be an exercise—it would be a calling, an honor, a challenge to conquer.

The other possibility? A completely different reaction. Phainon, with a rare, grave expression—one that only emerged in times of true distress—would place his hands firmly on your shoulders, his grip unwavering, grounding you in place. His normally vibrant demeanor would dim, his brows drawing together in deep concern as he searched your face for any sign of distress. And then, with a devastated choke, his voice thick with unfiltered worry, he’d ask, “Are you being blackmailed?”

It's not like your request is so out there that Phainon needs to find you a scapegoat for why you're asking. This isn't even the first time he's bent far stricter rules with actual consequences slightly to fulfill your requests! The man has an impressive track record of brushing the laws of common decency and practicality under the rug when it comes to helping you out. Take that one time in the baths for instance—when you were trying to get some peace and quiet, hiding under a sea of bubbles to avoid your duties. Phainon, ever the loyal accomplice, had simply closed his eyes, zipped his mouth shut with a soft snap of his fingers, and let you lie in blissful, responsibility-free silence. No questions asked. No protest. Just remarking about how difficult it was to find you before walking away.

Or the most recent example, when you decided to spy on the newest esteemed guests. It was a delicate situation, and you knew there was no way you’d be able to sneak a peek without drawing attention. So, of course, you enlisted Phainon’s help. He positioned himself like a human shield, blocking any unwanted gazes as you peered from behind him, hidden by his imposing figure. All the while, you stayed as quiet as possible, watching the guests converse with Aglaea while Phainon pretended to be entirely uninterested, despite his complete awareness of what you were up to. The point is, this request? It’s nothing compared to the stunts he’s pulled for you in the past. It wouldn't even include anyone outside you two!

Suggestion: Inflection baby! Sound just as enthusiastic as him! (It's not like he would ever say no)

Delighted squeals and giggles echo off the marbled walls as your view of the giant sphere in the sky—situated at the center of Okhema—bobs up and down, like a real ball you used to play with as a kid. In fact, everything about this moment feels like you've been transported back in time, swept up in a childish sort of joy that you haven't felt in years. Even though it's undeniably a silly sight—you, perched sideways on Phainon's back, your toes just barely hovering above the ground—you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t at least a tiny bit fun. It took a bit of hassle to convince Phainon that no, you weren’t being blackmailed, bribed, or coerced into this request. There were no hidden motives, no dark secrets behind it—just a plain, simple, and entirely ridiculous desire to see if he could do it.

"Don't forget that you're supposed to keep count," Phainon chastises lightly, though the effect is entirely ruined by the bright, boyish grin tugging at his lips. His tone is more playful than scolding, his usual boundless energy making it impossible to take him seriously. It's weird seeing him from this angle, half of his face turned over his shoulder as your neck cranes down for once. Seriously, what were they feeding this man?

"Oops, sorry!" you manage between muffled laughter, barely able to catch your breath, "I guess I lost track... maybe we should start over?"

"If that's what Your Highness wants, then it shall be done," Phainon says as easily as breathing, bending his elbows to push up again.

Mydei

Haha. No. Just no.

First of all, you wouldn’t even be a significant weight for Mydei—he could take you on as resistance training in the same way a bodybuilder might consider lifting a single book. If anything, he’d have to stack at least five more of you just to make it remotely challenging. Secondly, why on Amphoreus would you think he’d let you sit on his back? Best-case scenario, he’d stare at you with a long, exhausted sigh before asking if you’d recently taken a tumble down the stairs and cracked your head open. It’s not like he’s even being that mean when he says it anyway. Well, for Mydei standards at least. The fact that he hasn't bashed your head into the floor is, quite frankly, a miracle. The fact he hasn't bashed your head into the concrete itself is a wild understatement that you've lowered any respect he has for you over the days you've been acquainted with him.

Your first meeting was when you had misjudged how many steps there were and slipped forward. The inviting concrete was ready with open arms to split your head open, but Mydei, ever the observant type, had caught you just in time. There you were, suspended in mid-air, not even sure how you ended up there. Your limbs flailed like a ragdoll as he pulled on the back of your shirt with one arm, effortlessly lifting you with little more than the ease of a casual stretch. You'd been too stunned to even form words at the time—only managing a stammered thank-you as he set you back down as if saving you from an embarrassing death by stairs was just another casual Tuesday for him. In retrospect, it was a miracle you hadn’t cracked your skull open on the concrete. And of course, he’d said something entirely deadpan in response, like, "Pay attention next time," before turning back to his blue-haired companion. And he wonders why you're so obsessed with wanting to sit on his back.

Mydei has a short fuse and a quick temper, and as much as you'd really like to put your hand on his chest just to see his reaction, you also enjoy breathing a little too much to risk it. Not to mention, you can’t exactly take him in a fight. If you could, staking a bet that if you won, he’d have to fulfill your request would be a piece of cake. But alas, he's built like a wall, and your ability to land a punch would probably be a joke in comparison. So instead, you're left with the very real, very sensible option of begging and wearing him down with your charm—or at least hoping he’ll eventually tire of saying no. The risk? Well, it's still there, but that’s what makes it fun, right?

Suggestion: Beggars can't be choosers and living is pretty cool. Better to ask Phainon instead.

You've barely uttered the first syllable of your question before you're unceremoniously scooped up by the back of your clothing, lifted from the ground like a disgruntled cub being dragged away by its mother. Except, in this case, it's more like being hoisted over someone's firm shoulder, your limbs dangling helplessly as you're treated like a sack of potatoes. The bewilderment on your face is a new look as Phainon's figure grows smaller and smaller in the distance, the sound of your protests muffled by the unexpected shift. Amid your confusion, you catch sight of the blue bastard waving gleefully, a cheery smile plastered across his face as if he’s just won some kind of victory.

"Um, not that I'm complaining, but... where exactly are you taking me?" you ask, your voice tentative as you try to adjust yourself on his shoulder. On one hand, you're living the dream, able to feel those muscles effortlessly hoisting you up like you're nothing more than a feather. But on the other, his shoulder is starting to dig uncomfortably into your stomach, and it's quickly turning into a rather awkward ride. You shift slightly, trying to find a less painful position, but all you accomplish is further squishing yourself against his back.

"Training room." is all Mydei says. There's no snark, no extra words, just that one brief statement that leaves you quite literally and metaphorically hanging.

"Ah. Training room, huh?" you say back lamely, even though you're internally screaming in elation, your arms up in the air as you bow toward whatever Aeon is looking out for you.

You can totally tell by the way Mydei drops you in the middle of the pathway that he knows exactly what you're thinking.

Jing Yuan

Contrary to popular belief, you aren't blind. Even if the General is a bit too old to still be in his "bachelor" years—do those even truly exist for long-life species?—Jing Yuan is... well, let’s just say he’s easy on the eyes. Super easy. A five-star resort easy on the eyes. Is this what they call a silver foxian? He was the one who off-handedly mentioned it when your traitorous eyes had decided to linger a tad bit too long on the shape of his back during a meeting. Of course, you had to act all professional about it, clearing your throat and giving him a strict reprimand about how inappropriate it was to bring such things up in a work environment. You almost nailed the tone too, until you rounded the corner and crumbled into a puddle of embarrassment. What the hell just happened? How did he do that to you with just one little comment? That was so... unfair. It didn’t help that the image of sitting on his back while he did push-ups kept playing in your mind—every chiseled angle, every movement, the way he had to flex those back muscles with each rep. Seriously, how were you supposed to function with that lingering in your thoughts?

It takes several days for neither of you to address the elephant in the room. The tension lingers in the air, thick and unspoken, but it doesn't quite impede your duties. You carry on with your work, he continues to be as "lax" as ever—his presence still an odd mix of effortless command and lazy confidence. But there's something there, a shift, subtle yet undeniable. Every time you glance at him, there's the tiniest degree of something different in his smile, a sharpness to it that grows more cat-like with each passing moment. His expression seems to hold a quiet, menacing amusement as he sits across from you, still and patient, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that feels almost predatory. He reminds you of his pet lion in those moments, the way she watches her prey with those intense, knowing eyes. Her demeanor is calm, almost gentle, until the moment she pounces, and you can’t help but imagine the way the small, frail necks of her dinner break so easily between the crushing strength of her jaws. Yet, her owner, Jing Yuan, still calls her the sweetest, most docile creature, even with blood still staining her paws. A crazy man.

Patience is a virtue, they say. And eventually, with enough time, water will wear down the hardest stone. You’ve tried to avoid it, to ignore the inevitable, but today feels different. The morning is quiet, bathed in the soft light of the rising sun—a golden hour where the world feels still as if it’s holding its breath for what’s to come. It’s just you and Jing Yuan, silently preparing for the events ahead, the hum of the day yet to begin. There are meetings lined up, one in particular that has been pushed back so many times due to Jing Yuan’s absences that it's now on the verge of becoming a disaster. The final meeting needs to happen tonight, or his white mane might end up skewered on the end of a spear. The weight of it lingers in the air, but for now, it’s just the two of you, and the calm chirping of his precious finches acts as the only soundtrack to the morning’s preparations. As you glance at him—his calm, unflappable demeanor, his steady hands—something shifts inside you. It’s not immediate, but it’s undeniable. You finally allow yourself to acknowledge what’s been sitting in the back of your mind, simmering beneath the surface: you’re no better than your General.

Suggestion: Life is too short for things like dignity and shame, go for the throat!

"General, I apologize for my lapse in judgment, but I seriously cannot do this, or I might suffer a stroke."

Your words come out in a strangled rush, your face contorting into a myriad of expressions—none of them quite fitting for the situation. You're staring down at Jing Yuan, sprawled out on his stomach, looking entirely unbothered as he waits for you to—well, do exactly what he’d asked. Sit on his back. You have to remind yourself that it was technically his suggestion, his agreement when you’d tentatively raised the question, and yet here you are, mentally spiraling into a moral crisis. Every fiber of your being screams that this is just... wrong. This can't possibly be something that should happen in a professional setting, in a place of authority, with a man who is the very definition of your superior.

But no, there’s Jing Yuan, lying there with that serene look in his eyes, a slight smile pulling at the corners of his lips as if this were just another ordinary task in his day. You swallow thickly, still battling with your internal conflict, even though the situation is slowly spinning out of your control. How did this become a thing?

"Ah, well. I will not force you to do something you're so against," Jing Yuan says with a light chuckle, standing up smoothly as if your entire dilemma was merely a fleeting thought. He pats his pants as if brushing away any invisible dust, his movements deliberate and calm. Then, with a casual grace, he crosses his arms behind his back, his posture exuding the confidence and composure only someone of his status could command. "But it is a warrior's shame to go back on their words, don't you agree?"

You blink rapidly, momentarily taken aback by his smoothness, but the weight of his words presses on you. You can almost feel the invisible pressure of your promise tightening around you. You stammer a bit, trying to regain some semblance of control, but you can only manage a meek response.

"Ah— I... yes, General."

Before you can fully process the situation, his large, warm hand lands heavily on your shoulder. It's not the usual friendly gesture, though. No, this time it feels more like a reminder—one that makes you shrink into yourself involuntarily. His hand is firm and for the briefest moment, you feel like you're pinned in place by the sheer force of his presence. You’ve never been one to back down from a challenge, but now, in the face of his unwavering authority, you can’t help but feel small.

"So, I can count on you to fill in my stead for today's meeting then?" Jing Yuan's voice is light, but there's an unmistakable gleam in his eyes. A satisfied lion getting away with murder, "Excellent, I knew I could count on you!"

[ranboolivesaysstuff]

HEY! Just because I am now 20 I think having something to kind of re establish boundaries would be good! Considering the ones I put all those times ago have changed :D GENERAL RULES! Do not be racist, sexist, homophobic, antisemitic, ableist, or discriminatory against anyone for any reason. Please if someone is calling you out for things you have done or said, please self-reflect and take the proper steps to change or remove yourself from the community. If you see something you do not like, and it IS MADE WORSE BY BRINGING ATTENTION TO IT, THEN IGNORE IT! Bringing attention to problems that just arent really problems with either the community or me in general are not worth it! Please use common sense when thinking about what/what not to engage with! I personally wish that people in the community do NOT engage with people who just obviously do not like me! Chances are they want a reaction from it so it is MUCH better to just not argue with someone whos mind you will not change! ALLOW CRITICISM OF ME AND MY CONTENT! IF YOU DONT AGREE OR DONT LIKE THEN DO NOT ARGUE ABOUT IT!!!! ALL IT WILL DO IS CAUSE UNESSICARY DRAMA!!! DO NOT make ANY comments or content about me that is explicitly sexual. I completely understand that lately there have been bits due to the changes in how I’ve been presenting myself and how I’ve been presenting more femininely, but that does not allow anyone to use that as an excuse to sexualize any features and such that are more feminine or masculine. Remember that femininity is not sexual and should not be seen or created as such just because its there! (for example, the Vtuber costume and chat being overly weird over the added boobs where there was no need for it). DO NOT draw me in ways that are sexual either, such as highlighting any aspects in a sexual way, or making the content something sexual. I am completely okay with being drawn as any body type, masculine presenting or feminine presenting, as long as you stick to this! PLEASE DO NOT SPECULATE ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE!!! Making jokes about certain topics CAN be fine, but a line is crossed when it becomes a legitimate speculation or if a joke is said when I have expressed my discomfort! RESPECT MY FRIENDS!!! All of my friends are their own, incredible people. And they do not deserve to be lumped in or referred to as JUST "my friend". Be respectful in their chats even when im not there, and be respectful to all of them everywhere else! IF SOMEONE IS TRYING TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU MAY BE DOING SOMETHING WRONG PLEASE LISTEN!!! There has been a lot of times in which I have seen people be unwilling to change in the face of a genuine discussion, and that is not something I want in the community! I should NOT have to police every single thing because it should NOT take me saying something in order to change your mind! As my words are not worth more or less when it comes to a lot of subjects! And lastly, do good. Whenever you have the ability to. BE POSITIVE!!! The hater mindset is very draining and can be very toxic to both you and the people around you, so highlight the good instead of the bad if you have the ability to! I am so incredibly proud of how far this community has come, and I cannot wait for the future!!! I have spent some time writing this, but it may not be perfect, so I will update this as time goes on and I think of more, or if something needs to be SUPER cleared up, but for now these are the main ones! I will NOT be updating this after every little thing however, as I do not want you guys to feel like the only way that something is wrong is if I talk about it! As you guys should be able to sustain yourself as a community without my consistent input! Imma go enjoy my birthday by eating a pizza :) thank you all!

[missdynamighttt]

↳ ❝ THERE'S NO ONE LIKE YOU, SWEETS. ❞

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ synopsis: in which, you make what feels like the worst decision of your life—getting into a hot tub with your fake boyfriend, katsuki bakugou.

starring: fake boyfriend! katsuki bakugou x oblivious! reader ⍣ ೋ

disclaimers!: fake established relationship, prefers ass, humping/ grinding, a little degradation, fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), sexual stuff in water

note: pro hero! katsuki drabble, usage of "woman", "sweets" "baby", "slut", fem reader, fake relationship trope, inspired by to all the boys ive loved before hot tub/ jacuzzi scene. I KNOW I HAVE A POLL, I PROMISE ILL GET TO THAT, JUST NEEDED TO GET THIS OFF OF MY CHEST💜💜

╰┈➤ ❝ [this is so stupid...] ❞ you mumble, walking down the hallway to the pool area, your arms crossed as the cold winter breeze hits your skin.

somehow, kirishima talked you into confronting your 'boyfriend', katsuki bakugou, after he started ignoring you in the class 1A ski-trip/christmas party this year.

"c'mon, girl, hes probably waiting for you in the hot tub 'nyway. get in there, and get him!"

it was only supposed to be a fake arrangement between you two. to be honest, you're not even sure why hes mad. but he was.

the hand-holding, hugs and kisses started to feel too real, the closeness felt too intimate. it was all getting in your head so you distanced yourself from him, sitting next to ochako in the bus instead of katsuki.

katsuki needed to get his ranks up in the charts and you needed publicity. that was all there was to it. supposed to be, anyway.

you reach the pool area and thats when you see him. katsuki bakugo. in the hot tub. shirtless. and in swimming trunks. he's lounging with his eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed, letting the heat and jets of the tub ease his muscles.

you catch your bottom lip between your teeth. you draw closer to the hot tub, perching yourself on the ledge across from katsuki, not getting in the water because you had a night gown on. for now.

though his eyes are closed, a slight shift in his demeanor reveals that he's aware of your presence. even in his attempt to maintain a façade of calm, the subtle tension in his shoulders and the tightening of his jaw betray his awareness of you.

"katsuki?" you tilt your head, trying to get his attention.

when he doesn't respond, you scoff, crossing your arms.

"wow, katsuki, real mature."

his eyebrow twitches at the comment on his maturity, his eyes flutter open. he looks at you with an unimpressed stare, his expression a mix of annoyance and... something else.

"oh, because you're a real shinin' example of maturity," he retorts, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

you frown at him. "seriously, why are you mad at me? and don't go yappin' about how you're not mad, i can tell."

"why do you think?" he grumbles, unable to meet your eyes as his cheeks tinged pink.

"...you've been hangin' around with round cheeks all fuckin' day."

that was all he was mad about? is he.. no. he couldn't be jealous. he had no reason to.

"that... that shouldn't matter."

"well, it does matter, goddamn it," he mutters angrily as his scowl deepens, his jaw clenching in frustration.

"you don't get it, do you? you're my girlfriend, you were supposed to sit with me."

"fake girlfriend-"

"i don't give a flyin' fuck. you're still my girlfriend, woman, fake or not. i expected you to sit with me. and instead, what do i see? you hangin' out with fuckin..."

he lets out an exasperated sigh, raking a hand through his wet hair. he looks like he's trying to find the right words to express his feelings without coming across as too jealous or vulnerable.

"fuck. fuck, i'm... i'm not tryna control you, okay? but it bugs the shit out of me. it bugs me that you were hanging with round face. it bugs me that you sat next to her instead of me."

katsuki's gaze softens at your quiet, conflicted expression. he sighs again, his eyes briefly darting away from you before he continues.

"i... i even brought your damn favorite snacks in case you got hungry," he mutters, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "i thought, we could have sat together and, you know..."

you look up at him, a hint of surprise widening your eyes. you contemplate how to continue, trying to lighten the mood with a soft smile. "do you... still have some left over?"

katsuki scoffs at the attempt to change the mood, but can't help the brief spark of amusement that flickers in his eyes.

"no, obviously," he replies with a roll of his eyes. "i ate some and gave kirishima the rest after you decided to ditch me."

"rude."

"damn right, it was rude. tch, ditchin' me like that."

you let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head, looking at him with a soft gaze. "i'm.. i'm sorry i didn't sit next to you."

katsuki's ears turned slightly pink as he hears your apology. he glances at you hesitantly before looking away again, trying to maintain his aloof demeanor.

"yeah, well, apology accepted, i guess," he mutters, his voice lacking its usual sharpness.

you nod, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. after a brief moment of silence, you gather your courage and shed your nightgown, revealing your bare skin as you slowly step into the warm embrace of the hot tub.

katsuki's eyes widen as you stripped, his heart rate speeding up at the sight of you in just a pair of black bra and panties. his eyes roam over your body greedily, taking in every curve and contour.

he clears his throat, his gaze is fixed on your figure as you step into the hot tub, the warm water enveloping you. he tries to keep his thoughts in check, but the sight of you like this, almost naked, is making it incredibly hard (like his dick).

"damn..." he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. "what are you doing to me, sweets?"

you look at him with eyebrows raised, a soft smile formed on your lips. "hm?"

he takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. the water laps around you two, creating a sense of intimacy, and it only adds to the tension.

"seriously, do you have to look like that right now?"

"like what?"

"like... that," his voice is hoarse, gesturing vaguely at your form. "like you're tryna drive me crazy."

katsuki reaches out, his hand hovering just above your torso before finally making contact, his fingers gently carressing the curve of your waist. his hand felt so warm, almost competing with the heat in his eyes now mixed with his raw desire for you.

"damn it, woman. you're killin' me here..."

"can i apologize for that too?"

"i'll forgive you... under one condition," he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. his hand slowly roams over your bare skin, exploring your body with a newfound confidence.

he pulls you closer, the water sloshing around you as he guides you onto his lap. his arms encircle your waist firmly, every contour and dip of your bodies fitting perfectly against each other. the corners of his mouth tug to a grin."sit here for me."

your eyes widen in surprise as you feel a rush of heat across your cheeks. you could feel his hot, raging boner, pressing up against your cunt through the thin, pathetic fabric you call panties.

a cheeky grin spreads across your face. "katsuki, is that...?"

he groans, his voice low and gruff with frustrated desire. "just shut the fuck up, sweets."

his hands grip your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you nearer, his lips crashing against yours in a heated, hungry kiss. his tongue dances with yours, greedy and demanding.

the kiss was intense, filled with pent-up longing and need and so much words both of you couldn't say.

he keeps you trapped against his body with his arms in the hot tub, his touch both tender and possessive.

"such a nice fuckin' ass.." he whispers, groping and massaging your doughy ass before pulling you back in for a deeper kiss.

your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair as you grind on his hard-on, a little embarassed as you feel your panties dampen more from the water and your slick but can't help but want him. need him.

"fuck," he groans, feeling his cock get so painfully hard just from you humping him. "you little.."

your breath hitches when you felt his hand slide down your inner thigh, tugging the pathetic g-string to the side. he enters a finger inside of you, seperating your folds, feeling your warm pussy and your wet slick in the midst of the water. "k-katsuki-"

"aww, this all for me, sweets?" he coos, watching you whimper as he rubs your aching clit.

you pout as you grind against his hand, desperate for friction. your teeth sink into your lip as he put a second finger, your eyes glistening with a mixture of desire and greed. "so what if it is..?"

"that fucking eager for me, huh?" he chuckles darkly, his fingers enveloped by the warmth of your pussy as he curls them inside of you. "gonna take it all for me, yeah?"

you nodded, clinging onto him like a lifeline, whimpering and mewling choked versions of his name. "fuck, fuck.. kat- katsu.. katsuki..."

katsuki groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his hand your hips grip you tighter, pulling you closer, while curling his thick digits against your sensitive spots, the sound of your lewd noises music to his ears.

"see my fingers fuckin' you, baby?" he mutters, his lips find your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your tender skin. "only i can make your pretty pussy feel this good, yeah?"

"mhm," you manage. despite the embarrassment, you can't help but give in to the heat building between you.

his eyes lock onto yours, his voice sultry and mean. "you know, you're such a fuckin' slut. lettin' me finger you like this where anyone can see us."

a loud moan escapes your lips as your pussy clenches around his fingers at the name. you couldn't help it. fuck, he was so, so mean. and you fucking loved it.

a cocky grin spreads across his face, letting out a low chuckle. "oh? you like it when i call you a slut?" he taunts, bringing a grin to his face at your reaction. "can't believe you're into that shit, sweets."

"it's your fault- fuck.."

"oh? blamin' me now?" he taunts, a cocky expression on his face. "thought you were more.. mature than that."

katsuki flaps his fingers faster inside of you, abandoning the slow, careful pace of curling he did earlier. your slick and the hot tub water moistens his fingers, yet you can still smell the faint hit of your cunt.

"katsukiii! fuck, fuck, fuck. too much, too much..."

"just look at you, sweets. takin' my fingers like a champ, such a good fuckin' girl," he coos, his filthy praises making your pussy clench around his fingers.

"bet you wanted this as much as i did, did you?"

"n-no-"

"bullshit. if you don't, tell me to stop right now."

"sh-shit, no.. don't stop, please.. please, i need you.."

"that's what i thought," his grin widens, his hand that had been resting on your hip moves lower, tapping your leg gently. "lift your hips up for me."

with a nod, you comply, the water rippling around you as it drips out of your legs, katsuki finally seeing your sweet little cunt without the transluscent filter of the water. his grip on your thigh tightens slightly, letting out a shaky exhale as he rubs your clit.

"you close, sweets?" he glances up at you, his eyes meeting yours, feeling you nod before he leans in for a long, lingering kiss.

"cum on my face, 'kay?" he utters softly after pulling away, leaning down on your sweet cunt before lapping his tongue away at your aching slit while still pumping his fingers full of you.

his tongue felt so good. he felt so good, it hurts. all you could smell was the intoxicating scent of your cunt and katsuki's saliva sloshed together.

"katsuki..." you can't help but let out a lewd mewl, whimpering as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your body.

"there's no one like you, sweets," katsuki groans into your pussy, the loud sounds he was making as he ate you out while he fucked his fingers into you was just so lewd. when it felt so good. when anyone could catch you doing this. "cum on my face, baby, c'mon.."

you shudder from the pleasure from his touch as you feel your release, chest heaving up and down as you catch your breath. though, his tongue kept flicking at your clit, pumping his fingers in and out of you as you ride your high.

your post-nut clarity kicks in. fuck, you just.. let katsuki bakugo, your fake boyfriend, not only finger you but you let him eat you out. it doesn't matter you were into him. he was still your fake boyfriend.

and not just anywhere, no. but in the damn hot tub. where anyone could've seen you. the worst part? you enjoyed it to your core.

before you can think loudly again, you feel his lips brush gently against your cheek. you turn to look at him, a little surprised at the sudden show of tenderness after the heated moment as your eyes meet. you take in the disheveled sight of him, his hair damp and wet as he catches his breath, your mind still trying to catch up to the events of tonight.

"sweets... my room. now. please."

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ should i do part 2 guys lmaolmao hope you enjoyed 💜💜

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

[solxamber]

Holding Them and Not Letting Go with: First Years

the rest will be in a separate post <3

Others: Housewardens + Jamil ; Vice housewardens + Rollo, Neige

Ace Trappola

Ace bounces into the room, still riding the high of his basketball victory. His grin is wide, and he’s practically glowing with confidence. “Alright, so are we going with Sprite or Coke for this exclusive VIP party?” he asks, digging through the mini fridge with exaggerated flair.

You don’t answer. Instead, you step closer and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a firm hug.

He freezes for a second before letting out a laugh, his tone teasing. “Wow, I didn’t realize winning a game made me this irresistible.” He turns his head to try and catch your expression, expecting a playful retort, but when you don’t let go or even laugh, his teasing fades.

“Hey,” he says more softly, twisting slightly to look at you. “You good?”

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, your hands still gripping his jersey. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, voice steady but warm. “I just… I love you, Ace. And I’m really, really proud of you.”

For a moment, he’s completely still, blinking at you like he can’t quite process your words. Then he lets out a shaky laugh, his arms coming up to pull you closer. “Don’t get all soft on me now,” he mutters, but there’s a tremor in his voice, and his hold on you is anything but casual.

Ace is the kind of guy who hides behind his jokes and bravado. He’s the loudest in the room, the one always cracking jokes to deflect attention from anything that might feel too serious or too vulnerable.

He plays it cool, like nothing ever really gets to him. But deep down, he’s always wondered if he’s enough—enough to be taken seriously, enough to make someone proud, enough to deserve the kind of unconditional love he’s always quietly craved.

Hearing you say those words, feeling the sincerity in your hug—it’s almost overwhelming. The teasing grin he wears so easily is replaced by something softer, something real.

He buries his face in your shoulder, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thanks,” he says, the single word carrying more weight than he usually lets on.

In your arms, Ace allows himself to feel it all—the pride, the love, the relief. He might joke about being irresistible or too cool for heartfelt moments, but the truth is, you make him feel like he doesn’t need to be anything other than himself. And that? That’s everything.

Deuce Spade

Deuce sits at his desk, the faint sound of pencil scratches and frustrated sighs filling the room. His brow is furrowed, and his leg bounces anxiously under the table. “Why can’t I get this?” he mutters, flipping through his notes for the hundredth time. “I should know this by now. I have to get this right.”

You watch him for a moment, heart aching at the stress etched into his face. He’s always trying so hard—pushing himself to be the perfect honor student, the model example. You know how much he wants to prove himself, but sometimes, he forgets that it’s okay to lean on others.

Without a word, you walk over and wrap your arms around him. At first, Deuce stiffens in surprise, but the tension melts away almost instantly as he leans into your embrace. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice a little shaky. “What’s this for?”

You don’t answer right away, just holding him tightly. His hands come up to rest on your arms, his grip firm, like he’s drawing strength from you. After a moment, though, he shifts slightly, craning his neck to look at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. “You’ve been holding on for a while…”

You smile, shaking your head gently. “I’m fine. I just… I’m really proud of you, Deuce. I see how hard you work, how much you care about doing your best. I don’t think you hear it enough, but I’m proud of you.”

For a moment, he’s silent, his wide eyes searching yours like he’s trying to make sure you mean it. And then, without warning, he pulls you back into the hug, tighter this time, his arms wrapped around you like he never wants to let go.

Deuce has spent so much of his life trying to prove himself—to his mom, to his teachers, to his classmates. He worries constantly about whether he’s good enough, whether he’ll ever live up to the expectations he’s set for himself. Deep down, there’s a part of him that fears he’ll always be that hotheaded troublemaker he used to be, no matter how hard he tries to change.

But in your arms, all of that seems to fade. When you tell him you’re proud of him, it feels like a gift he doesn’t quite deserve, but one he’s so grateful for that it hurts. He doesn’t feel like he has to pretend to be perfect or have it all figured out—not with you.

“You’re… you’re the best,” he mumbles into your shoulder, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

To Deuce, you’re like a miracle—a gift from the Sevens themselves. Someone who sees him for who he is and believes in him even when he’s struggling to believe in himself. And as he holds you close, he silently vows to keep doing his best—not just for himself, but for you, too.

Jack Howl

Jack sets the heavy crate down with ease, brushing his hands on his pants before glancing at you. “Alright, that’s the last one,” he says, his voice steady and sure. “You didn’t have to lift a finger. Told you I’d handle it.”

You smile at him, watching as he dusts himself off, the faintest sheen of sweat glistening on his brow. Jack always insists on doing the hard work, carrying the weight—literally and figuratively. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t ask for help, just powers through with quiet determination.

Before he can turn back to the next task, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. He stiffens slightly, caught off guard, but then his arms come up to hold you in return.

“What’s this for?” he asks, his voice soft but curious.

You don’t answer right away, simply holding him tighter. Jack stays quiet, but you can feel his tail wagging behind him, a faint swish against the ground. When you don’t let go, though, he starts to shift slightly, pulling back just enough to look at you.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, concern evident in his tone. His ears flick nervously, his golden eyes scanning your face.

You smile up at him, shaking your head lightly. “I’m fine, Jack. I just… I just love you, and I’m really glad to have you in my life. You’re always looking out for me, always working so hard. I don’t think I say it enough, but I really appreciate you.”

For a moment, Jack just looks at you, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he pulls you back into the hug, his grip firm and grounding. He doesn’t say anything, but his tail betrays him, wagging faster now, practically spinning like a motor.

Jack isn’t used to hearing things like that. He’s always been the dependable one, the one people rely on but rarely the one people go out of their way to thank. There’s a part of him that wonders if he’s only valued for his strength, for what he can do rather than who he is. It’s a quiet insecurity, one he keeps buried deep, but it’s there all the same.

But when you hold him like this, when you tell him how much he means to you, it feels like a weight has been lifted. You don’t just see him as the reliable guy who carries the heavy stuff or takes care of the hard work. You see him—Jack, with all his flaws and strengths, and you love him anyway.

His tail thumps against the ground now, a silent giveaway to how much your words mean to him. He doesn’t need to say anything; the way he holds you, the way his tail wags furiously, tells you everything.

In your arms, Jack feels something he’s not sure he’s ever felt before—completely understood and appreciated for who he is, not just what he can do. And for him, that’s more than enough.

Epel Felmier

The two of you were walking back to Ramshackle, Epel chatting animatedly about something funny that had happened during class. His hands were moving as he spoke, when a sudden whistling sound cut through the air.

You didn’t even have time to react before Epel’s hand shot out, summoning a precise burst of magic that sent the incoming magift disc flying back in the direction it came. It hit its mark with a loud clang before tumbling harmlessly to the ground.

“Idiots need to watch where they’re aiming,” he muttered, brushing it off like it was nothing. Then, without missing a beat, he reached for your hand, his grip firm yet casual as he led you back toward your dorm.

The moment you stepped inside, you turned to him, your arms wrapping around him tightly. He let out a small, surprised “Whoa,” his hands instinctively coming up to hold you back.

“Hey, what’s this for?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and a bit of embarrassment. He hugged you back anyway, his fingers lightly rubbing your back, but when you didn’t pull away, his expression shifted to concern.

“You alright?” he asked, leaning back just enough to look at your face. “Did that disc scare ya? I didn’t think—”

“I’m fine,” you interrupted softly, squeezing him tighter. “I just love you, Epel. And that was so cool. You were so quick, and you didn’t even hesitate. I’m… I’m really lucky to have you.”

Epel blinked, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process your words. Then, as your words sank in, his cheeks flushed a deep pink, and his lips curled into a small, bashful smile.

“You think… I’m cool?” he asked, his voice almost timid, as if he didn’t quite believe it.

“I know you are,” you said, your tone firm and sincere.

Something in him seemed to shift at that. Epel pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly now, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder.

He’d spent so much of his life feeling like he had to prove himself—to his family, to his classmates, even to himself. Being underestimated because of his height or his face had always left a bitter taste in his mouth, pushing him to work harder, fight stronger, and shout louder just to be taken seriously.

But in this moment, none of that mattered. You didn’t see him as fragile or weak, didn’t treat him like someone who needed to prove anything. You saw him for who he was, and you loved him for it.

The warmth in his chest spread to his face as he buried it against your neck, his arms tightening just a little more. He didn’t say anything for a moment, letting the silence speak for him.

When he finally did speak, his voice was quiet but steady. “I’m lucky to have you too, y’know. More’n I deserve.”

You smiled, holding him just as tightly, letting your presence remind him that he was already more than enough. For the first time in a long time, Epel felt like he didn’t need to prove a thing. You thought he was cool, and that was all he needed to hear.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek was mid-sentence, his voice rising in animated fervor.

“And that’s why this tale of heroism directly correlates to Lord Malleus's own virtues! Truly, how could anyone miss the resemblance? Why, if they merely paid attention—”

You didn’t let him finish. Stepping forward, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, pressing your cheek against his chest.

Sebek froze instantly, the words dying in his throat. “Wha—? What are you doing?!” His voice pitched higher, equal parts flustered and confused.

His arms hovered awkwardly for a moment before he tentatively settled them around you, his usual composure crumbling. “Are you hurt? Is something wrong? Speak to me at once!”

When you didn’t respond immediately, Sebek’s grip tightened slightly, and he pulled back just enough to inspect you, his eyes scanning your face with concern. “What has happened? Are you unwell?”

You smiled softly at him, your fingers curling into his uniform as you leaned back into his chest. “I’m fine, Sebek. Really. I just love you.”

Sebek blinked, his mouth opening and closing as your words sank in. He seemed at a rare loss for words as you continued, “I love how passionate you are, how much you care about the things and people you love. It makes me love you even more.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his lips pressed together tightly. Then, without warning, he hugged you back gently, yet firmly, his arms encircling you as though he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go.

“...I see,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual.

Sebek had spent so much of his life trying to live up to expectations—his own, his family’s, even the ones he imagined Malleus might have for him. He had always been painfully aware of his mixed heritage and the silent whispers it inspired, of the way his fiery temper and unwavering loyalty often set him apart from others.

Yet with you, none of that seemed to matter. You didn’t judge him for his intensity or his quirks; you embraced them, cherished them, even. And in moments like this, when he felt your arms around him and heard your steady words of love, he was reminded that he didn’t need to prove himself to you.

You saw him—not just as a knight or a servant, but as Sebek.

“I…” His voice wavered for a moment before he steadied it. “I love you as well.”

The words were simple, but the way his arms tightened around you spoke volumes. For all his loud proclamations and larger-than-life demeanor, Sebek’s love was quiet and steadfast, an anchor that held firm against any storm.

And as he rested his chin atop your head, silently committing this moment to memory, he realized something: as long as he had you, everything else seemed just a little less important.

Masterlist

[madamecaos]

Crush (ing)

Summary: Where Ghost goes a little too rough on you in training then makes up for it.

5k+ ish words │ Ghost (Simon Riley) x Y/N

A/N: Angst with a smutty happy ending. Times are weird now, so I'm back to writing again. You know the drill, no proofread found here

-----

Part 1

It was merely a crush, you realized. It must be. Otherwise, you would have to not have sex again with Simon.

Because there was no way in hell a man like that would let himself be roped in into a relationship, and a relationship with you at that. You were sure he hated you, going by his nonchalant treatment when he wasn’t in your bed. 

There, another example. You haven’t even been to his room, which going by his arrogant attitude must be annoyingly spotless.

You hated him, or at least you wished that saying it would make it better for your sanity. Because this was Simon.

The first time you slept together happened in France, and it was not gentle. Well, you didn’t really expect any special treatment as a lover, but it wasn’t exactly a tender moment, more of a “blowing some steam” sort of thing. A ‘high-school make out session’ sort of a thing, or so you repeated in your head whenever his name came up in conversation.   

It’s not to say that it wasn’t enjoyable, but only a representation of the tone of your weird situationship. And you were fully sure that this was Johnny’s fault somehow.

“But he likes you, lass. That’s why he’s a pain.” He said, as if there was no doubt about it.

You scoffed at that. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

Your aching shoulder, after sparring got out hand, made you believe otherwise.

Now, Johnny said something about hanging out for drinks with some locals. The mission in Serbia took a pause on the wait for new intel, so as consequence your unit had a free week out of uniform. This meant more time with your team outside of work, and that meant that you and Ghost were at each other’s throats. Mostly you since his sunken eyes behind the sockets of his skullmask barely moved when you made jabs at him.

Then he stared and stared, a blank look threatening you into a near sycosis. Why couldn’t he just be normal and answer without underestimating you?

And one night there was a local event, promising alcohol and a good time. It was dark already, but the people there were lively, enjoying food and from far away, you could hear music and dancing. You couldn’t wait to try and merge with the crowd, maybe flirt a little with a cute local. And you thought you looked lovely, really good going by the way some of the soldiers ogled you. It must be due to you being one of the only females in the base, but it wasn’t harming your ego.

Johnny whistled when you met at the entrance, drawing attention to you in civilian clothes. You think they hadn’t seen you off your gear yet, and it must be shocking to see you in a normal long maxi skirt mapping the curves of your hips, a dark top and a fashionable coat, just as dark of course. You looked like a killer with your dark makeup and hair down for the first time in a while, sparkling earrings catching in moonlight.

“Little lady, are ya lost?” He whistled again, making you hurry your pace to shut him up. There was a diminutive pause with hesitation at seeing Ghost in the driver seat after Johnny moved away from the window.

He looked at you, eyes trailing leisurely from your toes to your eyes. You wiggled your white-painted toes in your wedges at the pinning stare. It was a pain smuggling nail polish in missions, but his ongoing stare made it worth it. They might not be up to code, but you didn’t really care. He blinked slowly as his fingers lightly rapped against the steering wheel in what you thought to be annoyance.

“Are ya coming?” The brute asked, still bitter by your word ping-pong match in Price’s office. You certainly had won because you believed yourself capable of acting as a secret spy inside a mob dead set on selling plutonium as a business. Yeah, they were a little out of their heads, but really talented at hiding, so here you were, stuck in Serbia. Ghost clearly thought you weren’t good enough of a liar to gather intelligence, or so he implied, but you knew it was because he didn’t believe you weren’t good enough overall.

Your past scuffles where Ghost was the opponent, pinning you down on the mat, were proof enough. This was the military, you weren’t allowed to make it personal, but when he bested you and made sure to show you your faults with overtraining you… His strict treatment with you hadn’t gone unnoticed by others and, well, let’s say that you weren’t feeling rational about it. 

To your annoyance he got out of the car, and for a second you expected him to fight you again, maybe prevent you from getting into the backseat with brute force. Would he say that you weren’t allowed to drink or have fun? Would your mistakes make him order you back to the gym instead of a night of fun?

None of the scenarios circulating in your head happened. Instead, he leaned sideways and opened the door. You stood still as he waited at your gaping. Then, obviating your embarrassment, you closed your mouth and got in at the rise of an eyebrow behind his mask. None of you mentioned anything at his action, one that you found odd. Maybe he did it as a power move? Or maybe he did it only for the shock factor to keep you on your toes?

Sitting at the back, immersing yourself in your distrust, you kept making eye contact with Ghost through the rearview mirror. Not on purpose, but he did nothing to turn his eyes away, only to drive, and sometimes you swore he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

But you kept fighting with facts versus what you wanted. Did you want him to seek you, look at you and only you? Your last argument kept circulating in your thoughts. Whenever he looked at you, pain followed.

So, he steered the rented car in silence, Johnny making conversation with himself. Ghost found parking nearby inside the city, near the pubs, and yet the car was left hidden in another block. Yeah right… it was the car that would draw attention, not the hulk-of-a-man wearing a balaclava in public.

And it was sort of inevitable the way your gaze would keep drawing back to the blonde near-white lashes free of dark paint or the sharpness of his jawline as he rumbled out another one of his jokes to Johnny. The lack of skull mask allowed you to obsess, no, notice the details. Yes, notice.

And he still had a balaclava. You felt like you were going insane in your ruminating and in your shame for sleeping with someone that didn’t find you worthy enough to show their face.

The guys flocked around you as you headed into the first club with music you could understand.

After a while, you realized you shouldn’t have dared to defy a Scotsman in a drinking game. Johnny was fully sober and you were giggly at your third drink. You were drawn to the dance floor and the bar behind it, or at least a moment for yourself.  A fourth drink didn’t sound so bad, you mused as you planned how to get out of the booth. You were fidgeting in the middle, Johnny on one side, Ghost on the other. Gaz was supposedly on his way, something about needing more time to get dressed. As if. He probably knew this night would be boring and would never arrive.

“Excuse me, scoot” you said, nodding at Johnny to move so you could get out. He huffed and practically ignored you with a teasing grin as he kept ‘scoping the perimeter’ or whatever that meant. “Johnny, let me out. I have to pee.”

“So? If you leave, who’ll be my wingwoman?” 

“Certainly not me. Ghost?”

“Not moving.”

You looked at the two, noticing that Johnny was leaning forward on the table, and Ghost wasn’t. Hoping that the shock factor would stave away the complaints, you swung your leg over Ghost’s hips, landing on your knee at his side. The skirt rode up to your knees as you stared him down, stumbling at your sloshed state. You expected to climb away quickly, but before you could escape into the booming music, solid hands tightened themselves over your hips. You swayed as you lost your momentum, hitting your lower back on the edge of the table, empty glasses clinking.

You hissed at the pain, the bruises on your back tender from yesterday’s training stung as your hands grasped his shoulders for stability. One of his palms quickly spread on your lower back, preventing more accidents. Your lips clamped at the pain. His head was almost at your height, despite you being over him, a few inches up on your knees, spread over his thighs.

Dark eyes stared at you through his mask, but you could clearly make out a risen eyebrow in amusement. That little shit always found a way to get a rise out of you.

“Easy, doll. You should’ve just asked,” he rumbled lowly, barely heard through the music.

“Woah,” Soap added to your embarrassment.

“None of you would move, now let me off,” you didn’t wait for his permission and swung your other leg away, paving your way to freedom away from those steady hands. There was no way you could feel his warmth through all your layers beneath the skirt, but the shape of his fingertips still ghosted over your hips. Fighting the urge to look back, you walked away with flaming cheeks, and hurriedly headed directly to the bar. Well, more like swayed to the bar as embarrassment sunk in slowly in your drunken state.

It was almost as if he was completely unbothered by your presence whilst the mere thought of that skull mask made your logic haywire, aggression being an immediate outlet. You certainly needed that drink, or anything as a distraction, but the bar was unreachable. The hoard of people flaying their limbs to the deep base reverberating through your form didn’t allow you a direct way, so you tried to push yourself through the sides of the crowd. Even being half-way there, you saw that getting that drink would be a pain, the barstools fully occupied, a line of people trying to get the overworked bartender’s attention.

You sighed, knowing that you would have to wait for that reprieve for more than an hour, going by how slow the line was moving. After someone bumped into your sore shoulder, an answer to your question came in the form of the red sign of Exit behind you. Maybe you wouldn’t get a drink, but fresh air might help stave away the recurring memory of the shape of Ghost’s palms on you. The fact that you kept thinking about it made you want to punch something… Fresh air it is. Without looking back, you went outside into a back alley, the cold air helping you sober up enough to not stumble through the horde of smokers blocking the entrance.

What was this bar selling that was so full? You cursed lowly, knowing that your much needed moment of peace would have to wait some more. The thought of calling for a Taxi back to base crossed your mind, your annoyance slowly rising. Unfortunately, you left your purse behind with the other two, your bra carrying the only cash you had in the currency, enough for that one drink you kept dreaming about.

With arms crossed around you, you set your pride aside and found a dark corner to sit in, the lights and the music far away. A little misplaced wooden crate allowed you to take the weight off your feet, far enough to hide you from the locals chatting away over cigarettes. You weren’t as vigilant as your usual self, knowing that with your combat training, you were the most dangerous person amongst them.

With that in mind and at the relief of momentary silence, you closed your eyes, fingertips massaging your temples. Maybe it had been a blessing in disguise that you couldn’t get that drink. You had been bunking with another soldier in the common barracks, the cafeteria was always busy, your itinerary was filled with missions, training, discussing intel, fighting with Ghost and being subjected to horrible jokes and prompts from your peers. This had been the only moment you’ve been alone, you realized.

Peace was broken as you opened your eyes, military boots standing inches away from you. You scolded yourself for recognizing them immediately, not an ounce of you distinguishing him as enemy. Was it normal to even find annoying how silent he was when walking? You should’ve seen him coming.

“Didn’t take you for a smoker,” Ghost said, already knowing that you weren’t. You knew that to your core. He was too observant and too vigilant for his own good, or for your sanity.

“I’m not. Where’s Johnny?” You looked up, craning your neck upwards. The mass of him blended with the darkness of the sky behind him. You could only make out his eyes out of the balaclava.

“Inside,” He looked down on you and you debated if your pride was enough to make you stand up. Even if it was impossible, you wanted to be enough to stand at his height, for him to recognize you at something as your equal. He better walk away before you start spewing truths that would only confess your drunken self.

“And what are you doing here?”

“Checking up on you.”

You held in the scoff, rolling your eyes with closed lids. You waved him away, going back to massaging your temples. “You can tell Johnny I’m fine. Just getting some fresh air.”

He looked sideways momentarily, eyeing the smokers nearby, then returned to pin you down with the heaviness of his gaze.

“You’re hiding,” he said with no question in his statement, head tilting sideways with curiosity.

“No-“

“Away from me,” he rumbled deeply, almost to himself. “It seems we are at an impasse.”

“I’m not doing this right now. Whatever you want to talk about, will be at base with a superior present,” you glared upwards as he eyed the hands now in tight fists on your lap. He knew you were clearly referring to Price, who abided to the bureaucratic process despite his favoritism for his favorite killer. That killer wasn’t you obviously.

You were considered too sentimental, as if that was another flaw.

After a beat, he opened his mouth solely to aggravate you, you were sure. “Said superior suggested we resolve our issues outside of work.”

The comment felt like a mockery. “And this is out of work, right? Get a few drinks in the girl, lower her defenses… and just talk.”

He hummed, a sound you felt in the hollow of your chest. It was almost as if you couldn’t help but react to his every word as an insult. The resentment you held for him always made you wonder that maybe, if you hadn’t felt like proving something to him, you would’ve stayed as a mediocre soldier. That his tough lessons and obvious disdain were meant due to something greater. You wanted to be grateful, to see the good outcome of the estranged liaison you have with one of your superiors, but it was draining enough to know that all effort would go to waste.

“I’ll let them know you were not reciprocating, up to resolve our issues,” he answered with finality, knowing that his flat tone would make you take the bait. He didn’t even blink at your scoff, your eyebrows furrowing at your irritation, him knowing too easily how to get a reaction out of you.

“Issues?” You stood up shakily, leaning your weight on the wall behind you. “Why don’t you tell me what our issues are, Lieutenant?”

In a moment of bravery, you stood on the crate. Even with the added height, the top of your head didn’t even reach his clavicle.

“You’re angry.” He crossed his arms uncharacteristically, biceps bulging at the tension. His eyes roved up and down, as if searching for a clue as to what had you so mad. And in something similar to a question, he added, “At me.”

Furious, but you didn’t correct him. You crossed your arms to imitate his pose, incredulous at the obvious statement. This time you used his tactic and stayed silent as an answer, opting for him to fill in the conversation.

“Tell me why,” he demanded gruffly.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” He couldn’t just interrupt your me-time and start demanding answers out of you, you convinced yourself. You knew you were being difficult, but at this moment, this was merely deflecting. There was no way you would confess your insecurities upon his demands, as if the outcome were to be an improvement.

It was his turn to tilt his eyes up to the sky, seeking answers as he sighed in exasperation. In a second after contemplating, he let his guard down so plainly, you stood shocked and deadly still at his stance. What was this? His shoulders relaxed, arms resting down by his side, eyes beseeching to answer. A clear posture open to you. “I can’t fix something if I don’t know what’s wrong, sweetheart.”

The endearment and the sincerity in his eyes caught you off guard. You blinked, eyes wide open, ignoring the surprise of the coiling heat stirring near your thighs.

Then he went on to call your call sign, spurring you to blurt out the first thing that came to mind.

“You’re mean to me,” You lowered your arms to your sides like him.

You felt like a child, whining, and impossibly allocating a responsibility that didn’t belong to him.

He lowered his chin in disbelief. “You’re… mad at me because I’m mean.”

His complete disregard made you do the exact thing you wanted to avoid. Spill.

“Just mean? No,” Your fury got the best of you, “You know exactly what I’m talking about!”

His eyes widened for the first time, your outburst uncharacteristic, even for your short temper.

“If this is about that night-“

 “You don’t treat me like the others. Even before that night.” You interrupted him, emphasizing what he implied, but felt hysterical at his clear misunderstanding. “You punish me for things that are not my fault. After we spar, I hide bruises because my superior can’t get over himself, but because its my job, I have to pretend its normal, like its professional. And then I’m the weak one? When others don’t have to take your beatings because…because… I don’t know why!”

“Sparring can be violent,” he justified, but to you, he didn’t sound so sure of himself.

“Violent?” You said, nearly shouting. “Violent?!” Ignoring the stiffness of your shoulders and the cold of the Serbian night, you shook of your coat. It was the first time he’d seen more of your skin, your uniform tended to provide full coverage. Even that night was fast and rough, but not unclothed.

He said nothing, his eyes wide at the purple imprints of his fists beneath the thin straps. You knew he could see, even in the dimmed light, how the bruises trailed down your shoulders. He must’ve known they would paint your arms as well, but you hadn’t shed your coat completely. You dared to believe he looked at you in horror, but your feelings bled over the dark alleyway against your better judgment.

“You set impossible expectations in our missions, in drills, and then you act like I’m some sort of failure when I can’t… I’m good at what I do. I do what I’m supposed to do, which is follow orders, swallow my pride, be a good soldier. And then you looked for me to get in my bed, and then nothing from you. So, I did what was expected, I stayed quiet. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

He stared and stared, reclamations going over his head as his eyes trailed the rest of your body with furrowed eyebrows. Alarmed. It was the most expressive you’ve seen him. No balaclava could hide the tension that held him upright.

“And then you ask Price to keep me off the next mission, after I keep proving that I’m capable. What else do you want from me?”

For the first time in a long time, he had no sass, no jokes, no answer for what he’d done.

“Y/N… I-“ He choked.

“I’m asking Price to change units. This will be my las mission with 141,” This time, he looked like he wanted to say something, but you were done with his excuses. “I’m done with your disrespect and your justified violence.”

You threw the word back at his face, Ghost tense and quiet.

“Y/N?” Someone asked from the exit. As your head snapped towards the voice, you hastily put your coat on, covering your shoulders immediately.

Johnny clutched your purse, eyes roving over your face and red rimmed eyes. The hesitance to look at your body let you know he had seen enough. Blue eyes kept jumping from Ghost to you, back and forth connecting the dots. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just tired. Heading back to base,” You stepped down the crate, Ghost taking a sudden step back, as if you’d burned him. He officially wanted nothing to do with you.

“I will take you,” Johnny offered, gently and uncharacteristic, raising an arm to put over your shoulders in comfort, but let it fall as if he thought it over.  In a second, he turned with an expectant palm towards Ghost. “Keys.”

He didn’t ask, he demanded. And Ghost, the good soldier he was, followed orders.

“The Lieutenant will take a cab.”

The Lieutenant didn’t argue.

--

The ride was tense, Johnny flickering glances at your silent state. As you stared blankly at the windshield, he hid his anger under his worry.

“Do you… should you talk to someone?” Johnny asked tentatively, indicating that maybe someone of a higher ranking should get involved.

“No,” you answered, finality in your tone.

You opened the door hastily when you arrived, avoiding any opportunity for him to ask more questions.

You had done enough talking for the night.

--

Thankfully, the common barracks were empty. But as you sat on the lower bunk bed, you felt a note crumble beneath your weight.

You stared at nothing in the dark, exhausted, taking deep breaths for a few minutes before you had to read, dreading another mission or another memo at your impertinence.

After gaining courage, the light post by the window allowed you to read that the note was a relocation to another bed.

--

The private room was yours, just like the private bathroom and the queen-sized bed. It was a slight gratification after everything that transpired a few hours ago.

And it was in another hall from your unit, further away from Ghost’s own private bedroom.

You didn’t want to think about him anymore this night, you thought as the nearly boiling water cascaded down your back.

As you scrubbed yourself clean, you reminded yourself that you needed to thank Johnny, he must’ve had to pull some impossible strings to find you a private bedroom amongst the fully occupied base.

In secret, inside of your new bedroom, you finally allowed yourself to cry.

Part 2