#idea overload should be a concept

[iniquitousyearning]

tom riddle. | everyone has their vices

summary: tom riddle tells you he jerks off (and more) to relieve stress. just….in typical tom fashion.

word count: 2k

tags: 18+, suggestive content, so much tension you’ll choke on it, frustrating subliminal tom riddle (though reader is just as stubborn), flirting, masturbation insinuation, make out sesh.

"But how?”

Tom inhaled sharply, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he prepared to reexplain for what felt like the hundredth time. "Because, the slightest distraction or doubt can result in consequence—as I said previous. A momentary lapse in any of the areas we covered will result in splinching."

You blinked, staring at him like he'd spoken an alternate language. The late night and the relentless focus on Tom's face for the past four hours had blurred everything into a haze and dulled his voice into a monotonous hum, blending with the soft rustle of parchment and the distant lapping of the lake against the window. He could see it—your disconnection, the way his words slipped past you like water through fingers.

He exhaled, slumping back in his chair, a hand raking through his dark hair in frustration. "Should we call it a night?"

"Probably," you muttered, your gaze drifting to the window behind him, the surface of the Black Lake rippling under the moonlight. "You've overloaded my brain. I stopped comprehending two hours ago."

You felt Tom's eyes narrow slightly as he studied you—you must have looked a mess. Strands of hair had fallen out of your ponytail, your uniform shirt was half undone, and there was a dullness in your eyes that spoke of more than just exhaustion. A week bedridden with the flu had set you back, and now, despite Tom's best efforts, you felt like you were drowning.

He knew you were stressed beyond measure—you were normally not like this.

"You need to relax," he said, the words landing with the flatness of an undisputed fact. "You won't retain anything in the state you're in."

"How can I relax when I'm two weeks behind? And exams are next week?" Your voice cracked with the weight of your frustration as you leaned your elbows on his desk, burying your face in your hands. "I'm helpless, Tom. I know you know it."

"Would I be sitting here wasting my time if I thought you were helpless?" He watched you, almost clinical in his intensity as he spoke—tone matter-of-factly, devoid of any false comfort. It cut through your despair with ease. Tom Riddle never did anything without purpose; if he was here, it meant he believed you were worth the effort. "My suggestion is that you reset your brain," he continued, his voice steady like his fingers as he shut the textbook between you. "Take a walk. Have a cold shower. Jump in the lake. Whatever you need to do to decompress."

The simplicity of his suggestions almost made you laugh, but it was the kind of laughter that would easily turn into tears if you let it. Tom had a way of stripping everything down to its most basic form—of cutting through your stress and chaos and presenting you with a simple, unvarnished answer.

You were a mess, and he was telling you to fix it—no coddling, no pity, just a clear-eyed assessment of the situation. And somehow, that was exactly what you needed to hear. You appreciated him for it.

"Decompress, huh. I don't believe I've ever done such a thing." You leaned back in your chair with a lopsided grin, arms crossed. "Is that what you do? Jump in the lake?"

Tom let out a huff, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in what was almost—almost—a smile.

"Something like that."

Interesting—Tom Riddle, always so composed, every inch of him meticulously put together, as if the mere idea of stress was a foreign concept. You couldn't imagine him spiralling, not the way you did—frankly, you couldn't imagine him ever feeling overwhelmed at all.

The curiosity gnawed at you, wondering what he did to unwind—what rituals or habits did the untouchable Tom Riddle indulge in when no one was watching?

"Something else, then?" You pushed it further, gently, your eyebrow arching just slightly.

For a moment, his gaze flickered, something dark and inscrutable passing behind his eyes. You knew he was considering your words, debating whether to indulge your curiosity or keep you at arm's length. Such a fascinating creature he was—all brick walls and boarded windows—you had a feeling he was going to shut this down.

Until, he leaned forward.

"If you're asking if I have habits—I suppose I do," he said, your eyes drawn to the way his lips moved, the way his voice curled around each syllable. "Habitual things I do to—relax, let's say."

You hummed and pulled your lower lip between your teeth as you considered him—fighting to hide your amusement. That was the biggest personal moment you've had out of Tom Riddle since the day you met him in first year where he told you his name.

"Well, isn't that a revelation," you teased, toying with the edge of your skirt. "Just the mere insinuation that Tom Riddle has to do something to relax—as though he's not always cool, calm, and collected like he lets on."

His lips curled slightly at your words, his gaze dipping briefly from your eyes to your mouth, trailing lower in a slow, deliberate sweep that brushed over your chest before landing back on the desk.

Your brain buffered, tingles in the wake of his wrath. He picked up his quill, spinning it idly between his fingers. 

"Everyone has their vices—if they don't, they end up like you," he said, his tone laced with an ambiguity that made you wonder just how deep his ran. "Perhaps it's time you found some."

You scoffed, leaning further back in your chair, the fabric of your shirt pulling tighter across your chest. You forced yourself to ignore the visceral reaction your body had as you caught the brief flicker in Tom’s gaze—the way his eyes darted up to the movement before he quickly masked his expression.

For a moment, you thought you might be imagining things, but the tensing of your thighs betrayed a reaction you couldn't quite shake.

"And what are yours?" You asked after a moment, your voice softer now. Tom Riddle was many things, but he was not a conversationalist—and yet here he was, indulging your curiosity instead of shutting it down. He was humouring you, and you intended to make the most of it. "Decompressing with bland tea and ancient tomes? Sneaking into the Restricted Section when no one's looking?"

“Mm, no.” Tom let out a snort, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips— "I’d say my vices are less...pedestrian, than all that."

The quill in his fingers stilled—the change in his demeanour was subtle, though you felt it in the air—electric, making your pulse quicken. He traced the edge of the feather with the tip of his thumb, the motion slow and deliberate, and you found yourself inexplicably distracted, fighting the urge to shift in your seat.

Why in Merlin's name was that so damn captivating?

"Less pedestrian?" You echoed, curiosity at an all-time-high. "What do you do, then, Tom? Dance naked by the light of the full moon?"

"I should hope not," he laughed—a low, rumbling sound that resonated in the pit of your stomach as you giggled alongside him. The quill twirled again in his fingers, the motion languid, almost hypnotic. "No, I'd say my vices are more...private. Less suited to polite company. Perhaps I should let you guess since the mystery of it seems to fascinate you so."

The look he gave you made you stiffen, a challenge—no, a dare—clear in his deep, dark eyes. Your thighs involuntarily reacted again—less suited to polite company?

"I believe I've already made several guesses," you tried to compose yourself with a shallow inhale. "I'm quite at a loss."

He shook his head, stifling his grin. "Clearly, you lack imagination."

"Clearly, you enjoy being cryptic." You shot back, unable to stifle yours.

At that, he hummed—it was obvious your stubbornness was as entertaining to him as it was aggravating. Perhaps you could say the same. He set the quill down, his eyes on yours as the fingers of his free hand began to tap idly on the desk—and then his gaze dipped again, tracing the curve of your lips before drifting lower, a slow, deliberate path that made you tense.

For a moment, you wondered if the tension in the air was all in your head. Was he always this adventurous with his eyes?

"When the mind is under strain," he began, his voice smooth, clinical, "it's a result of an excessive influx of neural signals. Synapses misfire, disrupting cognitive function. A basic physiological response." He watched your reaction closely, as though gauging the impact of his words. "To address such a state, one must reestablish control over these neural pathways. To be direct, I find the most efficacious methods involve tasks that stimulate the senses without being emotionally or physically taxing. A simple, repetitive action can suffice—something arbitrary enough to encourage the subconscious to lose focus."

You fought the urge to scowl at his change in speech—Tom knew damn-well just how overwhelmed your brain was—and then continued to recite scientific jargon as if it were his full-time occupation.

You’d almost be mad if it weren’t for the fucking words that stuck to the inside of your ears—stimulate, repetitive, lose focus—

"You're a walking textbook, aren't you?" You continued to play it off—you didn't want to make assumptions—you hated the way he danced around the edges of things, never quite saying what he meant. "Be specific."

Tom's grin grew as he leaned in slightly, his fingers stilling on the desk between you. "I find tasks that involve the hands particularly useful. Something that can be repeated in a smooth, steady rhythm, with little conscious thought required. The ability to lose oneself in the pattern is key."

Merlin help you—the atmosphere in his dorm had changed with those words; the air turned viscous, cloying, each breath sticking in your throat like syrup—hands, steady rhythm, lose oneself—the words pulsed with implication, even if it was buried under layers of his typical, infuriating ambiguity.

He was absolutely referring to—no—no assumptions—

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "So...knitting?"

The words tumbled out, a weak attempt at humour to cut through the tension, but they hung lifeless in the air—as hollow as the chuckle that rumbled from Tom's chest.

His eyes traced over you, lingering in a way that made your skin prickle. "Not exactly."

"Hm. A different kind of needlecraft, perhaps." You shifted in your seat, trying to inject a semblance of nonchalance into your posture.

But you weren't fooling him—you never had—

"How much longer are you going to play coy?" He murmured, the amusement clear from light-years away.

Heat surged up your neck, the flush burning across your cheeks, betraying you—"how much longer are you going to continue holding your tongue?"

Your voice came out sharper than intended, laced with a challenge you barely felt capable of meeting. You and Tom had always been cordial, the slight suggestive comment here and there, mostly from your end. But this—oh, this was different—this was uncharted territory.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. "Would you prefer I do something else with it?"

Oh, fuck yes you would—

"You're being obtuse," you practically choked out, though the words lacked the bite you intended. "Entirely vague."

"I'm being clear," he countered, his gaze never wavering. "But you're being obstinate—willfully ignorant to my meaning because you refuse to acknowledge it without me saying it outright."

The air between you dissipated—you tried to grasp for a coherent thought, something to regain your footing, but your mind faltered, stumbling over the implications of what he was saying. His eyes never left yours—and you watched them deepen in colour, black pupils eating away the rich brown of his irises, darkening with something that made the room feel unbearably small.

You could feel the heat rising in your body, pooling low in your belly. How did he do this to you? How did he turn you inside out with nothing more than words and that infuriating, knowing smile?

"Tell me," you breathed, hating how desperate the words sounded, "what do you do with your hands, Tom?...how do you use them to relieve...stress?"

The second those words left your lips you realized what was truly happening here—Tom Riddle never did anything without intent—every word, every pause, every smirk, was a thread in a web he was weaving, intricate and inescapable. He'd led you here, gently, subtly, with the barest hint of force, and now that you were caught, you realized that you wanted this.

Needed it.

And it was clear he did too. Otherwise you'd never have gotten to this point—he wanted you to push, to dig deeper—your stomach twisting as you watched Tom wet his lips, but there was no smirk on them this time.

Only something intense—jaw set, eyes focused—

"I think we both know what I do with my hands," he whispered, the double entendre clear in every syllable— "you knew exactly what I was insinuating the moment this started."

Your breath snagged in your throat, a tremor running through your entire body as the warmth pooling in your belly began to spread, sinking lower, threading through every nerve. Your vision narrowed, centering entirely on him—his eyes, the curve of his lips, the way his presence seemed to devour the room, leaving no space for anything else.

And then, you nodded, the movement barely there—a subtle acknowledgment of your understanding.

"Do you touch yourself, Tom?..." the words escaped you, a soft, breathy whisper that you could hardly believe were your own. "Or do you touch someone else?"

For a heartbeat, everything seemed to freeze, suspended in the intensity of those questions.

The world narrowed to the point of his gaze, the sharp line of his jaw—the reality of where you were, what you were doing, almost seemed to blur—trapping you both in a moment that felt surreal, like a scene caught in the still frame of a film. Never—never—had you imagined a conversation like this with Tom Riddle, hardly your acquaintance, the untouchable genius of the school.

And yet here you were, heart pounding, every nerve on fire, and Merlin help you, you were going to wring every drop of this out for as long as you could.

He swallowed, and you watched the movement, entranced. "Depends on my level of stress."

Tom's expression was unreadable—except for the subtle tension in his shoulders as he leaned back, spreading his legs a fraction wider, the fabric of his dress shirt straining against the flex of his biceps—

"...and how stressed are you right now?" You whispered, reckless, without a trace of restraint.

Tom's throat bobbed with another swallow, a gesture so simple yet so charged that it sent your pulse roaring in your ears.

"Quite," he murmured, his voice taut, stretched thin. "The past four hours have been rather taxing—wouldn't you agree?”

A nervous laugh bubbled up, escaping before you could stop it. You tried to steady yourself, drawing in a slow, shaky breath. You had never felt so intensely aroused and frustrated in your life, and you knew, without a bloody doubt, that he was perfectly aware of it.

"Are you trying to imply l'm the cause of your stress?"

"On the contrary," he said, his gaze raking over you, his eyes dark and hungry, as if you were something to be consumed, devoured whole. "I'm saying you've exacerbated it. Though I'll concede a fair share of the responsibility—as it is mine, after all."

"How kind of you," you whispered, voice trembling with the effort to maintain composure. "To admit your own fault in the matter."

"I'm a kind man." His voice was a low purr, the kind that seeped into your bones, making your blood thrum with anticipation. "I like to take responsibility for my shortcomings."

Yes, yes—so very kind—

"Then take it."

The words left your mouth before you could second-guess them, a challenge thrown into the thick, suffocating air between you. The tension was a living thing now, colled tight, ready to snap, turning your insides into a churning mess of want and need.

Tom arched an eyebrow.

"Take it?" He echoed. "And what exactly do you want me to take, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart.

The pet name rolled off his tongue with a casual ease that sent a flush of heat straight to your core— the simple word wielded like a weapon, striking you down with its intimacy. There was no denying the power that name held over you, especially when coming from his lips.

"The responsibility..." you whispered, the words trembling as they left you, barely more than a breath. "…for your..." you hesitated, your eyes locked onto his as you finally said, "…shortcomings."

For a moment, everything hung in the balance—until, oxygen extinct, Tom leaned forward, closing the space between you until he was so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, mingling with your own.

Curse this fucking desk between you.

"My shortcomings," he repeated, his eyes flicking to your lips. "Is that all I should take responsibility for?"

"Are you suggesting..." you leaned in as well, the distance between you shrinking to a breath—your gaze drawn to his own mouth—the plush of it, how bad you wanted to feel it against yours, "...there's something else you wish to take responsibility for?"

Said mouth curled into the faintest hint of a smile and witnessing the shift this close felt dangerously religious—as though you'd experienced something sacred not many have before—part of you knew you did.

"Many things," he whispered, the sound soft as velvet, dangerous as a blade. "The list is long and varied..."

The heat in your body was painful—you had never been this close to him, never felt the full weight of his presence bearing down on you like this. His cologne—faint, rich, and so distinctly Tom—overwhelmed you, the same scent he'd worn since you first met him.

It was infuriating, how everything he did was so subtle, simple—yet so fucking intoxicating, so irresistible.

"...I'm not quite sure where to start." His eyes flicked back to yours.

Every word that fell from his lips was a new form of torture, his dark eyes pinning you in place, searing into you. The heat radiating from his body made you want to retreat, to find air, to find space—but the thought of putting any distance between you was unbearable, the need to be near him overriding everything else.

You'd rather lose consciousness than pull back.

"Why don't you start..." you whispered, tilting your head, your teeth grazing your bottom lip. "By fixing the insatiable ache in my curiosity...the one you created when you mentioned how you use your hands...to relieve stress..."

He exhaled, the sound rumbling from his chest like a growl and you could almost imagine that if he parted his lips, you'd glimpse fangs behind them right now—you'd never seen him like this—his gaze predatory, fucking ravenous, and it was as though he could devour you whole if he so chose to.

But you knew better. Tom Riddle would never be so crude. His methods of torment were deliberate—Methodical. A slow depletion of your senses until you're gasping for something only he can give you.

Then, in a voice that was all gravel and silk, he whispered, "is that all that's aching...your...curiosity?"

"Gods no—"

But you never finished that thought—because in an instant, his hand was tangled in your hair, pulling you forward with a force that sent you careening over the desk and into him—Tom Riddles lips crashed against yours, and it was like drowning, his tongue invading your mouth, stealing your breath and dragging all ounces of your cognitive ability along with it.

You were half out of your chair, caught in the gravity of him, unsure if your legs were even working, or if it was his grip alone that held you upright. His free hand found your wrist, pinning it to the desk as his mouth worked you with a fervour that made your head spin. The kiss was incendiary, a wildfire scorching its way through every nerve in your body, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake—the intensity of it, the sheer, unrelenting pressure of his lips on yours, made you wonder how you survived this long without it.

All the heat in your blood pooled low, deep between your thighs, an ache so profound it threatened to consume you. Tom Riddle was about to show you precisely how he used his hands to relieve stress, and Gods, if that wasn’t the only thing you’d ever needed right now.

[hypno-matt]

Taking Notes

CW: Spirals, Edging

This morning I was talking to @mastern3ro about my love of spirals, especially being made to watch one and then post about just how blank it made you feel.

So I decided to turn that concept into an even better one.

The task I was given for this was simple. Watch a spiral for 20 minutes while repeating the phrase "I'm a needy hypnotoy." Very basic.

The fun part, however, was that i decided to track howni was doing every few minutes, in order to properly show what a sub goes through when they spend such time staring.

I figured I could use the Notes App to record how I felt every now and then, while using my PC to do all the heavy hypno-lifting.

I sat down at my desk, and put on my favourite spiral from an array of almost a dozen, pairing it with a nice looping set of binaurals.

I pressed play, and began taking notes.

"Minute 1: The spiral is pretty and the binaural is great but nothing too far out of the ordinary so far.

Succint and to the point. As every great piece of information should be.

Nothing had really happened yet, besides me starting to repeat my mantra, very quickly finding a rythm that did not require much effort on my part.

I continued staring for couple of minutes, unaware of what was going to happen down the line.

"Min. 3: mm it feels nice, its hard to focus on the spiral, the hournal, the repeatimg amd the audio. It feels lile im cinfusimg himself ><

Im a needy hyonotoy.."

And here i had encountered my first problem. I had uknowingly overwhelmed myself. The audio, the video, the repetition and the note-taking were fine on their own, but too taxing for my brain combined.

I couldn't really stop now though, I didn't want to give up on this idea so soon. Besides, this overloading, while tiring, felt pretty great.

I had to keep going.

"Min 5;

I aasumed a better position, my legs sprea andd my baxk hucnhed iver. Hunchedf. Over? Is that how you sau it? Theres so much to keep track of and my brrtain is laggign.. i thinkk

Ik. A needy hypnoyy :)"

My brain was lagging. But it felt amazing. Arousing, even. So much so that i had decided to sink into my chair and spread my legs a little.

The overloading factor of this task was in full effect. It was already hard to remember to do everything. To listen, to stare, to repeat and to jot down what i was feeling. My voice began to trail off, the cadence that i had built up going away almost immediately.

"7: i gott caught up in takimg photos thw light of the apirall is so prettty ans so is my facee"

Just after the 5th minute I had noticed how adorable I looked. How relaxed my body was, and how much my eyes were fluttering.

Plus, the light from the spiral was coloring my otherwise dark room in warm pinks and purples. I would have been a fool if i didn't take a few photos, even it if overloaded me more.

"10:ii look so pretyyy im drooling..

Im turned on the lighht so i can photo myssefl"

By this point, my mantra had escaped my mouth, now only occupying space in my quickly fading mind.

I lazily turned on the light, ready to look at myself again, only to realize that the spiral was all i needed right now.

I was halfway through. I had to stare.

"12: toyyy neewdyyt wdsgiunggg rewlwqttong is aurkmaric drooolimgg"

Toy was needy,edging and relaxing. Drooling automatically, my thoughts slowly leaking out.

When did i start edging? Or touching at all really? I had forgotten, but i did not care.

"13 ddrrooollinng ii sshhoyld kbeell.

Oii ttottyyy"

What was once "I'm a needy hypnotoy" became reduced to "I'm toy". Maybe I took "succint" too far.

It didn't really matter though. Toy had to kneel. It's what seemed most proper. It's what seemed the hottest. It had to be done.

"15 beeetyer onn. Mym kenes

Im aneedy hypnotttoot im soo good"

Toy felt better on its knees. I felt so happy, so empty, my blank face more apparent now than ever.

Toy was beggining to become completely broken.

"17 mmfmcm imm so bbapnk imm a needy hoypnotoy

I forgot ot repeatt

Mmy mouutu iiis so drooollyy.."

After a few minutes of looking at itself through its phone's camera, toy realized that he had forgot his mantra.

Its mouth was occupied with drooling. It didn't have the brainppwer to do anything else.Toy went even blanker as he stared so intently at the spiral and himself.

"18 mminnn ttook liiikeww nn hoyrr"

The 18th minute did feel like an hour. Toy's mind couldn't really grasp time anymore. It was almost there, just 2 minutes left, but the time felt like it took ages.

Toy didn't mind. It loved staring. Listening. Drooling. Taking notes.

Toy obeyed.

"220000 oiikmm gonnww

Ttoyyy

.........."

And just like that, toy was gone. Its mind completely cleaned out, its body relaxed. It finished its task, and it felt great.

Toy closed its computer, and went to bed, repeating the words "needy hypnotoy" to itself until its mind returned about 45 mins later..

It had a great idea to write all this down. Just reading through, seeing the reactions and remembering them fully, it makes toy drop all over again.

I'm a needy hypnotoy. Please use me.

[mercurial-chuckles]

HIS FIORE - PART 1

Summary: Steve smexy Rogers moves into the neighborhood, and one evening, he catches you sneaking into the building opposite his through the fire escape. He watches curiously, slightly amused and, quite frankly, amazed by you. Guess what he does next? He writes a note, signs it with his middle name, Grant, and slips it under your door. How will you discover that Grant is none other than Captain America? Series Warnings: Language | Eventual smut | Mature content (minors DNI) | Steve’s naughty thoughts | Steve in-love Rogers | Steve possessive jealous Rogers | Drunk Steve (adorable, hot mess) | Neighbors | Secret identity | Steve watching the reader from a distance (slightly stalker-ish…ish) | A smidge of angst | Overloaded fluff | Happy happy ending

Chapter Warning: Language | Steve watching the reader from a distance (slightly stalker-ish…ish) | Good ol' fluff

A/N: Finally finished writing this! Originally, I wrote two parts as connected prompts for Steve Rogers Bingo Round 3, but I've decided to revamp the entire piece. Also, I'm going to try sticking to a schedule--wish me luck! 😉 Banner credits: Me | Photo credits: The internet | Divider credits: @buck-star (Sydney, thanks a trillion ❤️)

Note: Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work! Check out my other works: Masterlist

His Fiore Series Masterlist

Indulge Away!

Steve was happier, much happier now that the excruciatingly long recruiting was done. It was a nightmare to have Tony during the recruiting, and now that it was all over, Steve would get a good night's rest.

"Maybe you should try asking that nurse from the med-bay...Nina, I think her name is," Natasha had suggested casually as they walked toward the compound's parking garage after the painstakingly long day.

Steve groaned, running a hand over his face. He shot her a sharp look, trying to convey just how disinterested he was in this line of conversation. If Steve could, he would have sprinted away, but with Natasha, there was no escaping a conversation, especially this. She'd been too interested in his personal life or lack thereof.

He was happy with his hobbies: sketching and visiting museums. In fact, he could take up a side gig as a virtual museum guide.

"Look, can we drop it? I'm really not interested," he emphasized firmly as he approached his bike quickly.

Natasha smirked, undeterred. "Might be time to find someone to keep you in check, old man," she teased, climbing into her car.

Steve rolled his eyes as he swung his leg over his bike. Natasha had been relentless about his lack of dating life, going so far as to learn the names of agents and acquaintances she thought might catch his eye.

But she never understood that Steve didn't believe in casual flings or whatever the modern dating concept was. He was a man from another time, one where courting had a clear purpose, and the idea of dating left him uneasy. Maybe he just couldn't shake the insecurity of the scrawny kid from Brooklyn who barely mustered the courage to speak to a girl, let alone charm one.

"You need help setting up your place?" Natasha asked, snapping him out of his thoughts as his bike roared to life.

Steve grinned, slightly grateful she decided to drop the discussion. "I've got a duffel bag of stuff, Nat. I think I can handle it." If he was being honest, he was simply glad he found friends and family, which was more than he could ask for.

She huffed, shaking her head. "At least buy some furniture, Rogers."

"Don't need to. Sam helped me find a furnished place," he countered, his grin widening.

With a quick goodbye, Steve sped off toward his new apartment in Brooklyn.

'This place is a steal,' Sam had told him, a one-bedroom unit with just enough space and a cozy little balcony. Located in a six-story building with five units per floor, Steve's apartment was on the corner, offering a decent view of the street below and, if he leaned far far enough over the railing, a glimpse of Hamilton Park.

Sam, ever resourceful, had pulled some strings with the building's owner, a friend from the VA, to ensure Steve's identity stayed under wraps. Not that most people cared to look twice at the guy in glasses, a baseball cap, and loose clothing. Steve made a point of blending in, and it worked mostly.

By the time he arrived, the neighborhood was bathed in the warm glow of a quiet evening. Steve parked his bike in the designated cellar spot and headed upstairs.

His stomach growled as he stepped into his apartment. The serum gave him an insatiable appetite. Despite the hearty meal he'd had at the compound earlier, he was hungry again.

Making a bowl of soup and a few store-bought dinner rolls that tasted appetizing enough, he stepped out onto the small balcony that connected to the living room while balancing his plate in one hand and a water bottle in another.

Steve's unit was on the 5th floor, and his towering frame made the modest space look smaller, but he was still grateful to have it. On his left, there were two more units.

The view from the balcony stretched over the nearby intersection. A small window beside the balcony door allowed light to stream in. Framing the balcony were sleek black railings, their design simple, providing a clear boundary without obstructing the scenery. Thankfully, the balconies for each apartment were independent, offering a sense of privacy rather than being connected.

Modestly furnished with two petite metal chairs, a small table arranged neatly near the center, and a compact two-seater bench sat at the edge, positioned to take advantage of the view, Steve's balcony was more functional in comparison to his neighbor's, which looked cozy and inviting in the faint glow of series lights and vibrant looking furniture.

Settling into a chair, Steve let out a content sigh. The sounds of the city filtered out, and he felt a rare moment of peace. This was good, Steve thought. Perhaps he could get a larger chair.

The evening air was warm, and as the sky darkened, he finished his meal, settling back in his chair to enjoy the peacefulness of the moment.

He was about to head inside to play some music and sleep off the day's stress when he noticed a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.

Curiosity piqued, Steve leaned forward, glancing toward the source. You were pulling down the fire escape stairs in the opposite building.

The stairs were only five feet from the ground, but you struggled to grip the first one and had to fight to get your footing on the next. With surprising speed, you managed to steady yourself, though nearly slipping. You quickly hugged the metal stairs, and Steve's heart raced, expecting you to fall at any moment.

You mumbled something, then began climbing.

Steve initially thought you might be up to something…a thief maybe, albeit a beautiful one.

Despite the precariousness of your situation, there was something undeniably intriguing about you. Steve was grateful for his enhanced vision because he almost had a clear view of you. Your silhouette in the dim light revealed a lithe figure, and the determined expression on your face only made him more curious.

Steve instinctively moved closer to the railings, ready to intervene if necessary. Either you were up to trouble or were going to hurt yourself, and it didn't seem like a good idea to let you keep going.

Just as he was about to call out, you jumped onto the balcony and, with a proud little flourish, did a victory lap.

Steve couldn't help but smile, silently chuckling at the sight. You wore shorts and a simple T-shirt with an angry dog saying, 'Bite me,' and a huge band-aid on your left knee. He knew this was going to be etched in his memory.

He decided to wait a moment, intrigued by what you would do next. If you gave him any reason to act, he was ready--but he watched in silence for now.

To his utter shock, you pulled a water jug from somewhere behind you on the balcony filled with plants, and you began watering them, which was when Steve's focus shifted to the balcony opposite him. It was beautiful. The garden was full of various plants and creepers, flourishing vibrant flowers.

Steve leaned forward, utterly captivated. You moved with such care while watering, gently wiping away the remnants of old leaves and tenderly touching the plants. At one point, you even blew a flying kiss to a few of them. And then, were you… talking to them? His surprise deepened, and he instinctively ducked behind the railing, hoping to remain unnoticed as he observed the scene.

After a while, you carefully descended from the fire escape, moving toward the edge. You hesitated, looking down at the ground with a mix of apprehension and determination.

From his vantage point, the height was nothing when he was so used to jumping from the buildings, and you looked adorable, silently praying before jumping.

But you miscalculated and landed hard on your butt with a loud thud.

"Every fucking time," you muttered to yourself, loud enough for Steve to hear.

He couldn't hold back a laugh at the sight of your disgruntled expression, utterly charmed by everything you did.

Steve bit his lip, trying to suppress a laugh. He didn't want to be too loud, though he couldn't help it. Watching you rub your ass and mumble about the pavement, he couldn't help but notice. You had a sexy ass.

What the hell? He was horrified at where his thoughts were going, shaking his head to clear it. No. Focus.

He watched as you crossed the street, disappearing into his building as you entered the main door and out of his view. He stood there, staring straight ahead, his mind caught in a swirl of thoughts about you. A small, uncontrollable smile crept onto his face.

You lived in his building.

He glanced across at the beautiful, tiny garden where you had just been and felt an unexpected warmth bubble up inside him.

Minutes later, he heard shuffling from the balcony next door. His heart raced. He quickly retreated into his apartment, hoping--praying--that it was you. And yes, there you were.

With the light still turned off in his unit, he opened the small window to the balcony beside the door, leaning out slightly, not wanting to be seen.

You had a tube of what looked like ointment in your hand, your smile bright as you gazed at the opposite balcony.

You sat down and removed the band-aid on your knee. Steve winced as you hissed in pain, muttering a string of profanities. He rolled his eyes, tempted to step outside and tell you off for your language, but his thoughts quickly turned to something else. I could totally spank some manners.

His mind immediately snapped back to focus. His thoughts had never jumped in that direction before. Never. He shook it off, blaming it on the fact that he'd not been so attracted to someone so quickly.

He focused on the injury you were tending. What appeared to be a small scrape was a large bruise, and Steve could feel a sharp pang of concern for you as you winced, applying the ointment carefully.

You disappeared inside, leaving him with a sense of disappointment. He peeked out, checking to see if you had gone to bed. To his surprise, you came out again, this time with a book.

Steve watched you for what felt like hours, a smile never leaving his face. He felt content, oddly happy to have moved here, and it was not just because it was a decently prized single-bedroom apartment with a balcony. It was more to do with you being his neighbor.

~

This continued for the next few days, and Steve wasn't proud of it. He had become that guy--watching his neighbor like some sort of creep. But he couldn't help himself. It was therapeutic, in a way, watching you.

You moved with such care. Steve could see you filling a watering can, tending to the plants with such gentleness. There was something almost reverent in the way you whispered to them.

He found himself wanting your attention and the need to know you, hear you talk, feel your touch, and hold him the way you did with the plants so tenderly grew in him every second of the day.

And he needed to hold you as tended as a flower. His flower. His Fiore. Delicate and beautiful.

~

Two weeks had passed, and Steve couldn't stop thinking about you.

With his hectic schedule and sudden missions, he hardly had a fixed schedule. He had to leave early and return late at night, and though he tried to adjust his schedule, it was no use. He had no idea where you worked, either.

'Maybe I could ask Nat for help,' Steve thought, but he quickly dismissed the idea. Getting Nat involved would be a disaster.

It was a catastrophe in his head anyway because the thought of you consumed him, and as the days went by, he decided to act. He'd leave you a note just to see what would happen. A way to break the ice, if nothing else.

He slipped a note under your door.

Was it creepy? Maybe.

Could he help himself? No.

Maybe, just maybe, you'd see it as romantic.

Dear Fiore,

I must say, the garden looks beautiful. Your nightly rescue missions seem to pay off.  Keep up the good work. This is your next-door neighbor.

–Grant

He'd changed the note a dozen times before settling on that, trying to keep it casual and sound cool, not revealing who he really was yet being somewhat truthful.

Steve hadn't felt that anxious outside of missions in his modest existence except when he got the serum, his palms were sweaty, and his nerves were dangling tenuously by a damn thread as he waited for your response.

The whole night, Steve was hyper-focused on every tiny sound around him. He slept in the wee hours of the morning, cursing his enhanced senses, worried sick if you'd knock on his door to tell him off, to mind his business.

The next morning, he found a note from you and finally could breathe again, a smile tugging at his lips when he read it. No one could dampen his mood all day, not the stubborn ass SHIELD secretary, not the stick-up-their-butts agents, and not even Tony calling him Cap, Capsicle or whatever the hell he seemed to come up with.

Hey Grant,

Welcome to the apartment, neighbor! Terry, from the third floor, told me someone had moved next door to me. You know about my secret plant ops! I'm not sure whether to be flattered or annoyed that you were watching me. But thank you? The plants need all the love they can get. I've seen those people bring tons of plants, let them die and replace them with new ones. Can you believe it? I couldn't just leave the plants to die now, can I?  :(

PS: Love the name Fiore! Name's Y/N, BTW.

–Fiore

If you wanna be tagged in my works, add yourself here. <3 Please send me a message if you wanna be removed from the Tag list. :)

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[crunchystarz]

TWST SELF AWARE AU—series

|Overblot boys x Gn!reader

Cw- this is a yandere series so the basic stuff like obsessive and possessive behavior, isolation all that good yandere stuff will be present (remember none of this behavior is healthy nor do I condone it this is purely for entertainment pls take care of yourselves)

Summary: You're just a college student trying to survive, you download a game out of pure curiosity and boredom, you really get into it soon your app starts acting strange. Hey are your things being moved around? You don't remember falling asleep in your bed. Perchance you're losing your mind— or there are 7 guys who all equally want your attention and overloaded their code to get it.

A/n: my twst self aware au has been some of my most popular posts and I get the most asks/req for it, it also so happens to be my favorite to write so I wanted to actually make a fic with it with actual plot and story— there is a category in my master list for all the other stuff with that au but none of it is really needed to understand the plot!(It will still be following main ideas abt this au ofc) This is short and really just an introduction🙂‍↕️

☆PROLOGUE

You were tired, your eye bags proved that. They were heavy and a clear sign of the lack of sleep you had been getting the last few days. You finally got some rest time after you finished turning in work for your finals. Classes have started to be less hectic and work hasn't been as bad. You could relax. You lay in bed, scrolling through your recommended list for apps on your phone. One in particular catches your eye. You don't strike yourself as a huge Disney fan. Sure you liked some of the movies and shows mostly stuff you had enjoyed since you were young but you never were super extreme about it.

Twisted Wonderland. Interesting concept for a game. You rolled over in your side and swiped through the information on it. You let out a yawn before clicking download. A game based on Disney villains how intriguing besides It would be nice to have more things on your phone other than whatever free games came pre-installed. You rubbed your eyes, waiting for the downloading bar to complete.

After a few minutes of staring at your screen the download was complete. You opened the app. Too tired to use your brain to come up with a good name for your character you just left it blank. Yuu was good enough for you not like you were going to play the game too much anywho.

Turns out you were going to play the game a lot more than you'd like to admit. The story was fun you enjoyed the characters and it also had a gacha aspect. What could you say it kept you quite entertained throughout the day. You started getting into the fandom culture a bit even. You especially liked the overblot boys , they were your favorites.

You didn't know you were their favorite too.

You tapped away at your phone in your apartment elevator. You had come back from a mandatory lecture, you were beyond tired and you felt your eyes fighting the urge to close. Yet you had to do your dailies. You opened the app you had been obsessing over the past week.

"Huh?" You exclaimed out loud. Causing the others in the elevator to give you weird looks. You awkwardly laughed and hurried out the elevator. Leona was present on your home screen but last time you checked it should have been Jamil. How odd. Maybe you just forgot you had changed it. Ended up embarrassing yourself in front of people you don't know over something so silly.

You sighed as you fumbled with your keys. You'd never been happier to see your apartment. You sat down your bags on the chair near your island before making your way over to your couch and crashing. You didn't have the energy to go all the way to your room even if it wasn't much of a walk.

You pulled back at your phone and stared at the screen for awhile just watching Leona's character idly blink and occasionally speak. Something felt off, something about his character made you feel a little uncomfortable. He felt too real.

What are you talking about? You're going crazy. You're just tired and need some rest. You rolled over and tapped his character. His ears twitch and his face scrunches up slightly. Was he...blushing? You hadn't seen this Sprite before. Maybe it came with the update?

Too sleepy to care you turned off your device and snuggled into the throw pillow on your couch. You needed some rest.

—

Leona was a fool. A huge fool but he didn't care when he could almost feel you through the screen. Jamil was still pissed at him but how could he care?

He was one of the first few to realize something was wrong. Something was wrong with their world. Something was up with the little perfect of ramshackle. Ruggie called him paranoid yet something about the way they carried themselves was too practiced too perfect. It unsettled him, made his fur stick up.

His paranoia branched out to obsessive behavior. Yuu was odd. Magicless human from another world were odd in itself but something about them. He soon found out he wasn't the only one who had taken an interest in the perfect . He knew he wasn't going crazy there was something wrong with them. Something wrong with him. With everyone in that damn school.

Fake. All of it was fake. Leona found that out. He saw you first. The real you. Not the illusion that stood in your place.You. Maybe it was because it was the first real thing he'd ever actually felt. Something stirred in him. It wasn't programmed in him to feel. He wasn't supposed to.

Unfortunately like stated before he wasn't the only one who became too curious and learned too much. Everyone who was victim to the unusual overblots became hyper aware of their existence. Of how everything about them was mere programming and code. It was all a game. Their entire lives was nothing but something strug together by some unknown creator.

But you were real. You were the only thing real and they became obsessed with that. They all craved your attention all craved to learn more because you were the only thing that was real. You were like their god nothing mattered but you. Not your stand in persona Yuu no —you. You were theirs. You just didn't know it yet.

You were blissfully unaware of the seven guys behind your phone screen who stopped paying attention to all around them because why would they? What's the point if they're not actually real. They're just characters built to co-exist with them. Not important not real. Not you

MASTERLIST

[thydungeongal]

I've made passing reference to my idea of "the best dungeon game I can imagine" and it's not like a coherent game concept but more like a grab-bag of ideas from other games/hacks/articles that, to me, would result in the ideal dungeon-crawling game

Exploration procedures in the style of Break!! and Errant. While calculating feet can sometimes be fun sometimes you can sacrifice a bit of granularity to give players discrete high-level choices. Exploration that is room-by-room, turn-by-turn sacrifices a bit of resolution but makes for easier top-down decision-making.

The overloaded encounter die can help reduce some of the mental overhead of resource-tracking. When it comes to resource-tracking there's an issue I haven't found a satisfactory solution to elsewhere: there's very little incentive for players to keep track of character resources in a system that mostly does depletion, which means that keeping track of when players need to count down character resources will often fall on the GM. Making the loss of resources part of the grind and making it a clear result of a mechanism outside of the GM and players' control simplifies it.

Speaking of abstracting some things to make them easier to keep track of on a top-down level, I think a Break!!/Old School Hack style system of measuring distance in areas can actually meaningfully allow for "theater of the mind" play while still allowing for informed tactical play.

Look I think d20+modifiers where you want to roll high is good, the feeling of rolling a natural 20 is unparalleled imo.

I feel keeping track of experience points is important in the context of a dungeon game because that type of gameplay benefits from objective goals that players can pursue for rewards. Most importantly, I think exploration in and of itself should be encouraged, so a system similar to the one used in Neoclassical Geek Revival where each new room explored grants cumulatively more experience points would be interesting to utilize.

The combination of an inherent incentive for the act of exploring in and of itself AND making the resource grind random actually has an interesting effect: while players can manage risk by making informed calculations like "okay with 1 ration per character our party should be able to explore for six turns on average which means that if nothing goes wrong we can expect six rooms' worth of experience points this trek" but they can't count on it. Managing risk is still the name of the game.

Idk I kinda like Break!! style character creation. As much fun as random character creation is I kind of ultimately prefer the flowchart where players can make informed choices about their character.

One issue I have with the traditional D&D endgame of domain management is that it often feels completely separate from the dungeon gameplay. I think it's great to have something to look forward to at higher levels besides more dungeoning in deeper dungeons, but as such I would like to make the domain management part of the gameplay from level 1. Maybe the characters need to go into dungeons to get resources to upgrade their base? Something like that.

Anyway this is like. Really high-level and barely even touches on what the potential character options would be and how the game would distinguish itself from other dungeon crawling games beyond obviously having the best list of hand-picked mechanics and systems all in one. And I haven't really thought about the interaction between all these systems at all. But anyway a girl can dream

[cripplecharacters]

Hello, I'm not really sure how to word this but figured there are tropes to be avoided in the concept so yeah. Have you ever dealt with magic characters who have problems dealing with like, the opposite of a normal disability? Like instead of being blind, someone sees too much? Or instead of amputation, limbs keep growing?

Hello,

Actually, yes, I've seen this kind of idea twice in media;

Deadpool's cancer and healing factor. His body is constantly dealing with an aggressive and widespread form of cancer and his healing factor is constantly repairing the damage. This causes him to have chronic pain. If either thing were to vanish, he would die. If the healing factor vanishes, the cancer will kill him. If his cancer were to vanish after his healing factor has spent decades working overtime to repair the damage, his healing factor would keep working overtime and the unnecessary tissue regeneration would probably kill him.

Sarah Bright from the SCP universe. She's never stopped growing and this has caused her limbs to get too long, making her bones and muscles weak. She needs braces and mobility aids to get around because of this and deals with chronic pain. (I have issues with how Sarah and her brother, TJ, were written as characters with intellectual disability, but I digress.)

I'm also almost certain I've seen characters with enhanced senses deal with sensory overload due to said enhanced senses, but I can't remember any specific examples of this besides the ones I've written.

I think ideas like this are super cool and an interesting spin on how superhuman abilities can impact the physiology of the people who have them. And when these consequences are grounded in science, like the weakness and pain caused by Sarah continuing to grow long after she should have stopped, it's very interesting to me as a scientist. These ideas are really cool and a great way to explore "maybe superpowers aren't always so super" without the usual "too much uncontrollable power" trope. When done well, these are a fantastic way to remind readers that having superpowers isn't always a good or fun thing, sometimes they're irritating, painful, uncontrolled, or even disabling.

Mod Aaron

[leolithe]

I haven't visited Warframe Wiki in MONTHS let's catch up a bit and reminisce about Lotus Eaters :D

Seeing "Natah/Lotus/Margulis" together on the wiki in a new quest 🥹.....

the Operator, Drifter, Lotus system family........ I love when they're shown to care for each other. I really hope there's more opportunities for them to just respond and react to each other. After the Hex quest I'm more than certain DE can meet the demand for affection from our OG Tenno family.

We should all be collectively freaking out about the sentence, "The Indifference is affecting the Lotus now".

It is so cruel, for a character who was constantly dehumanized, accused of being unfeeling, uncaring, evil... who all this time, struggled to prove that she cared, that she was as human as everyone... to get consumed by an embodiment of the very thing everyone tried to vilify her for. I am scared for her.

So the Lotus system can hear: their headmates' voices, the Indifference's call, the cries of Void Angels, the sounds of "Devils" that we don't know if they're alluded to as physical entities yet, and the cacophony i can only imagine that is the calls of life. How she hasn't suffered a sensory overload is incredible and heartbreaking.

I'm so, so, so happy DE is explicitly writing plurality into our Space Moms. It cemented the Lotus system as my favourite characters of all time... There's never been a character I met that was this thematically cohesive, this conceptually interesting. She's just so, so, so good.

I think it's so cute that the Lotus system refers to their body as their "shell"....... with how crustacean-like Natah is, I also described her body with words like shell and carapace in my fics before so this just makes me smile big big ^_^

I like this line. I read it as DE not at all regretting the direction they went with in regards to the Lotus' story. She was abused, she was hindered, mocked, and constantly punished for doing the one thing she wanted to do: Love her family, the Tenno. And the system saying this out loud is an unflinching point of confidence, that they know they were deeply wronged.

However, I do admit I would've liked to see a bit of Natah/Lotus/Margulis' reflecting on their past actions and what they were forced to do. This quest admittedly doesn't seem like the best place for an "I feel guilty about the things I did when I thought I was right, or when I was under the control of another" emotional beat, and this kind of subject (a victim's conflicting feelings after traumatic events) needs to be handled carefully and with enough time for nuance. So I'm content with sitting with it for now.

I still sometimes see people struggling with the point that Margulis is straight up just living inside Natah's/the Lotus' body. Like, yes, the Original Margulis was executed before the Old War, and the situation she's in right now (being a Human Mind in a Sentient Body) really is the Ship of Theseus dilemma... but idk i feel like accepting that the Lotus system feels and remembers the pain of the Jade Light is easier than making the "how Natah/Lotus will never be Margulis" speech again.

Besides, I think the "Natah and Margulis are formed from Lotus' perspective of them" theory/headcanon is enough to explain why Margulis is with them... but somehow I don't think plural concepts are well-known to the average person lol

The idea of all 3 of them mourning Margulis' death but not wanting to change it is just. OOOOOOOOUUUGH... my heart....... Margulis chose to die but she was never allowed her death. Margulis chose to die but she can never regret it. The system was shaped by everything they faced, all the good, all the bad, and they know taking anything apart means losing themselves. They don't want to lose who they are... they don't want to lose each other........ WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I read a comment somewhere that pointed out something I missed: The Tenno are all about taking one's pain away. What would they do about someone who wants to keep her pain? Someone who is in the early stages of Rell's situation, face to face with the Indifference? ....... Lotus nightmare sequence please? :3

No, Lotus..... I don't............. :<

I'm very scared to find out what her deal with the Indifference exactly was. I hope it shatters my heart.

I do wonder if DE is gonna mention Rell again now that the Lotus system took up his role. I still hold onto that Copium that Margulis was framed for casting him out, or that there was something from other perspectives that we were missing regarding how these two treated each other... Regardless, I think it would be nice for us to see the Lotus system reflect on Rell and what happened to him.

My Working Theory for the future of the Lotus System is that she'll continue guarding the Origin System from the Indifference, but not without consequence. When Lotus ascends to Godhood and takes up that gatekeeper role, she's gonna be in close proximity to the Void. I think there might be an arc where she accepts the Void and all its flaws into her body, a la Dark Matter in Pokemon Super Mystery Dungeon :P

Leave it to a Sentient AI plural system to be The Great Sentient Queens of Multitasking :P

I want to know more about what other people observe about her SO BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD. I WANNA BE THE ONE OBSERVING HER BEHAVIOURS, I wanna see more of her facial expressions, her little twitches, her posture, her quirks, her attitude changes when she switches. I want to hear more of her singing, I want to be there to comfort her, I want my Tenno to talk to her and I want her to respond in kind.

I just want MORE LOTUS and I now have dangerously high expectations for her writing and the way she's going to be portrayed in future quests. DE is setting up something huge and I can only hope the time it takes for them to finally release it manages to temper my expectations.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I need to end post now. Oh Space Moms. We love you so so so much.

[witherby]

Is it just me that believes alfred is like immortal? like he is the same age and does not really grow older than now, like yknow dragon type of aging?

-🕯

Funny you should say this: I'm playing around with the idea of a concept I originally saw Tumblr user Frownyalfred talk about, where Gotham has a kind of sentience about her and gives gifts to her heroes.

I like the idea of Gotham making the Wayne's immortal. She freezes them at their prime so they can continue to defend her and the world.

But I dunno, is that making the LW au too complicated? Would I be overloading it with too much?

[rikebe]

couple of ladybug redesigns ive been doodling while stark raving mad about how this show for little kids doesnt have more badass outfits for the characters. i basically take a crack at these every couple of months but this is the first time im really pleased w what i came up with!

i def wanna come back to these and tweak them or come up with more designs for the other characters. and i esp wanna do a hawk moth chloe..........

long winded explanation of my design concepts unser the cut

ladybug - this is kind of my brain process here. her canon design (the worst one in the show imo) just kinda looks like a polkadot onesie so i really wantes to give her more bug-like features. i gave her black eyes bc i think its really cool when miraculiur holders change eye colours to something unnatural and i think its pretty neat and comicbook-y, and also insect-like. i also gave her bug-wing hairclips and changed her pigtails to twin buns so they had more of a shape contrast to the clips. for all wing details i added turquoise as a third colour to give it some SPICE.

my first designs (1-4) went off the idea of a short dress/coat with puff sleeves to suggest the shape of bug-legs, and the coat tails serving as her wings. i think its a cute design that fits marinette's girly style, but i wasn't quite happy with it.

i had the idea of her sleeves serving as her wings instead of her skirt or coat tails, and looked a little into chinese styles of clothing with big sleeves like this to lean more into marinette being half-chinese. i found a style called hanyuansu, which is modern clothes modified with hanfu elements and took inspiration from looking at a few outfits, so i tried a couple different takes. i really like design 6 with the big coat, but it seems really impractical for crime fighting :/ maybe its like a formalwear alt look lol.

7 is my final design that i'm happiest with, as it has all the elements i wanted but is still simple enough to not feel overloaded. i made the yoyo black for a little contrast and just bc i think it looks really cool!

queen bee - chloe was robbed of a character arc and a cool design. i will avenge her.

this ddsign came to me muchhh easier. a beehive hairdo seemed like a no-brainer, as well as fur trims both because she's a bee and because she's a bougie rich girl. i wanted the look to scream elegance and be a little retro and 60ies-inspired to go with her hairdo. the shape and tights are like a cute minidress married to a fur coat meets bee stinger, which is the vibe i want! the gloves are full chic and also sort of like black insect legs.

again a light blue wing detail for a pop of contrast and just because wings are fucking cool, and it gave me an excuse for 60ies inspired blue eyeshadow! yellow eyes cause i love weird eye colours, and it just looks a little creepy and jaundiced hehe

no mask because everyone knows its's her anyways, so why bother? plus masks are sort of annoying to design around lol. i kept her feelers because theyre really cute!

queen bee x butterfly - ive wanted chloe to become the new hawk moth since the concept was teased. well now my heart is broken forever, but i can still dream!! so this is like, an au where she has a full epic villain arc, keeps the bee and also gets the butterfly miraculous and becomes the new big bad!

i kept a lot of thw elements from the queen bee design but modified them. the dress changes shape into something less like a stinger and more like a chic mini winter coat to match the giant fur trim she has now! obviously huge moth wings are a must, and more of a staff than hawk moth's cane because, hey. she's royalty.

her queen bee feelers change to fuzzy moth ones, and the colours are a little different to match better with purple! plus a butterfly mask now, and white eyes with solid yellow irises to diffirenciate her from.......

hawk moth - who is a fashion designer and should really have a better look!

i gave him solid white eyes to make him look less human and goofy, and again for that cool comic-booky look.

i based the whole design on wanting his silouette to mimic thw butterfly miraculous, so i kept and exaggerated his canon lapels and added two pointy coat tails for the bottom of the wings.

the long coat is a bit more dramatique and less basic, and i tried to give his mask a little flourish to keep him from looking so much like a silver thumb.

the only place i kept the silver is for the vest, which is segmented to imitatw to look of a butterfly or moth's belly. i spent the least amount of time on this one but i'm pretty happy with it for a rougher draft than the other three designs.

[artistsfuneral]

Witcher a/b/o ramblings~~~

Geralt keeping the secret that he is an omega and not knowing that Jaskier is an alpha. Even though Geralt is using suppressants, he can still feel something very lightly bubbling away like he's near his heat and it's making him a bit clumsy. This in turn is making Jaskier feel super protective and he's absolutely oblivious about it until Jaskier accidentally uses alpha voice when they are traveling one day, trying to save Geralt from tripping over a large rock 🤭 Geralt's knees buckle and he maybe whines a little because sure why not, let the man whine, he's an angel hahah 😂 and they both pretend they didn't just experience that together - but how long can they keep that up....

I like to think of Jaskier slowly peppering in little dominant alpha protective things for weeeeeekkkksssss testing the waters and Geralt nervously leaning into it, wanting to be looked after but terrified that he's not allowed to indulge because witchers shouldn't need looking after, they're meant to be the protectors ...

👀🤭

Oh yessss pls!

alpha voice is such a good concept if you do it right and I can totally see the two of them slowly getting into it like-

Jaskier giving Geralt his half-eaten dinner because he's full and he knows witchers have such a high metabolism, Geralt wants to refuse because he doesn't need babying, he can make his own damn decisions and- "Eat." oh. oh okay, maybe just a bit? 🙁 if Jaskier thinks it's important enough to use his voice then maybe he should eat?

one day Geralt gets incredibly overwhelmed (sensory overload or maybe task overload) and Jaskier wants nothing more than to soothe his poor hurting omega but he's so stubborn! so after hours and hours of Geralt not getting better because he doesn't want to accept the fact that he's not doing great, Jaskier finally snaps "For fucks sake. Listen to me!" and Geralt's head snaps around and he's staring at Jaskier wide eyed and confused and he whines because he has no idea what to do and so Jaskier gentles him out of his panic with so many soft words

and maybe someone is talking shit about Jaskier and Geralt starts growling, ready to punch that damned motherfucker who dared to- "Geralt, stop." and he freezes, looks at Jaskier wide eyed because what does he mean? isn't he allowed to fend for his alpha's honor? doesn't Jaskier want Geralt to protect him anymore? 🥺

but it turns our that "No, sweet thing, I just don't want you to hurt yourself on my account. You're so precious to me."

and Jaskier tries to talk about it with Geralt but Geralt is absolutely not up for that! (feelings? no, never heard of them) until one day, he hisses at Jaskier, that he doesn't need to talk about this because he trusts Jaskier. trusts him to never use his voice against Geralt like others might and Jaskier has his oh. oh. moment.

and then one day, Jaskier asks Geralt to kneel. And oh he kneels so prettily. and it's like something between them just clicks into place

[arthelia]

Mattdex Soulmate AU

Short warning upfront: After I finished writing this, I had to realize the style of the post pretty much shifts into like two short paragraphs of what reads more like an actual story at the end. This wasn’t what I set out to do, it just kinda happened… so very weirdly written mix of regular post/story snippet ahead: 

One of my favorite tropes for ships where the characters are enemies in canon are reluctant Soulmate AUs. I just love those! And Mattdex has so much potential there imo. So much angst and a very toxic, dysfunctional relationship (at least in the beginning) guaranteed. 

And because I am not able to stop thinking about this and there is no Mattdex Soulmate AU story around yet (at least I couldn’t find any… I am still very much hoping someone will write one at some point though ^^) here are my thoughts/my rough idea of how this could go:  Firstly, how do they realize they are soulmates? There are a lot of different concepts here, and many rely on people being able to see each other, so I think I’d be going with touch here. Not general touch but actual skin on skin touch. So while Matt and Dex fought during S3, I think  Dex always wore the Daredevil Suit which left almost none of his skin uncovered and Matt's hands mostly were wrapped up in bandages and rope. Although we should probably not look at those scenes too closely. But for the sake of the AU, I think this works well enough. After the end of S3 they don’t see each other for 8 years. 

Dex’s trial ends with him being locked up in a mental institution, Matt continues being a lawyer by day and Daredevil by night. Then the attack on Josie's Bar happens. Dex shoots Foggy. They fight. In the beginning both are suited up, but then towards the end Matt rips off Dex’s balaclava. That doesn’t do it right then, as Matt is still wearing gloves when he punches Dex. But then in the moment right after the sound of Foggy’s last heartbeat dies off, Matt leans his forehead against Dex’s and in process the uncovered part of his face brushes against his skin. 

It’s like heaven and hell clash in a maelstrom of light. Like stars exploding in a void of darkness before being swallowed by it whole. All emotions and sensations a human being can feel, experienced in the fracture of a second. Two lifes colliding, existing separately until this moment, now being relived in one heartbeat, merging into one. ‘The union of two souls. To be joined forever until the end of times.’ So says the bible in this world. In other words, complete sensory overload. For every person who experiences it. More so for Matt, whose senses are already heightened. Who hasn’t seen a spark of light since he was a child.

He is completely overwhelmed. This is the wort possible moment with the worst possible person, this could have happened. Foggy just died. Dex is the one who murdered him. Him and about 10 other people. 

Dex on the other hand hasn’t been in the best place mentally from the start of their fight, by this point has almost checked out completely. Just letting things unfold. So when it happens, at first the only thing he feels is apathy… then an almost manic, sardonic exhilaration overcomes him.  How completely and utterly ironic. Hilarious in the darkest way. Dex has waited to find his soulmate since he was a child. His soulmate would be his North Star. The one to guide him, to be good and kind where Dex is lacking. Together they would be whole.

He may have given up on the concept of a purehearted North Star in the almost ten years since his last true one died and Fisk used and discarded him, betraying the trust he had placed in him. But even after everything, even during the time he spent sedated into nothingness in the mental hospital, he still sometimes thought about finding them. That one touch that changes everything. Makes him finally feel better… feel something. His other half, that is going to fill the emptiness inside him. Now, it seems this one last, however small, hope he has dared to hold on to has worked out just as well as all his other hopes and dreams have: It doesn’t matter anymore. 

At least they are in the same boat together in this. He surly isn’t exactly the soulmate of choice for a man like Daredevil, and especially not for one like Matt Murdock. Dex never considered his soulmate might be a disappointment. The only thing they share mutual hatred for the other. He starts laughing. Pats Matt on the arm.

And Matt can’t deal with this. It’s too much. Of everything. He is done. For all his life, even in his most difficult moments, he has placed his faith in god. Has strayed, as humans do, but found his way back to him in the end. He believes in a god that may sometimes be vengeful and demand retribution but ultimately is good and just, that forgives if a sinner repents, offers absolution. Absolution, Matt had thought he’d been granted. Forgiveness he had hoped himself to be worthy of. 

For where Dex seems without remorse for anything he has done, Matt repents every day he walks the earth. But what does this God –his God– really think about Matt's soul if he has chosen Dex as his soulmate. This isn’t the holy union of two kindred souls he has been promised in sermons and scriptures. His soulmate is no gift by god, picked specifically for him. He can’t be, because if he is what does this say about Matt? 

Matt crosses his one, his only line. Throws Dex, who doesn’t even struggle, off the roof.

Dex isn’t surprised to be -once again- discarded like this, in his eyes, that’s what happened to him all his life, so why should this end any differently? He falls. Which isn’t new either, in truth he has been falling since the moment he shot those Albanians and saved Fisk's life over eight years ago. And at the end of this one final fall, darkness awaits him as he hits the ground.   

But Dex doesn’t die. Matt hears his heart stop beating for about ten seconds before it starts anew, and he comes to with a grasp, while Foggy still lies dead and bleeding with Karen weeping besides him.

Is this punishment? For what Matt has done? For the sins he committed in the name of justice? For finally crossing the line and not by killing just anyone, but by the cardinal sin of attempting to kill his own soulmate…  and by the churches teachings part of his own soul? So maybe he deserves it. Deserves that Foggy remains dead when Dex doesn’t. When he is alive and recovering somewhere in a hospital, handcuffed to the bed and with an armed guard by his door. He will never know freedom again. Matt will make sure of that. But neither will Matt. Not now that he knows. Not with Dex the living, breathing reminder of his sins, his failures… with their bond a cruel mirror forcing even a blind man to see how rotten his own soul must be to its very core for it to be a matched to his. 

Yes, maybe he does deserve this…. But he cannot think about that now. Not about this, and not about the ultimate consequences of their bond. Not about tomorrow. Or about what any of what happened means for his future. Because tonight he griefs. He griefs for all the souls that lost their lives in the meaningless, senseless violence of the attack on Josie’s. Griefs for Foggy. Foggy, who is… was the kindest soul he had ever known. Who never stopped trying to do what he thought was right, but did so without the fists and the blood. And his own. A soul he has always known is drawn to darkness, grapples with it each night when he puts on the devil's suit, but never deemed beyond salvation because until now he had believed that in the end he always came out on top of that fight. 

But he hasn’t. And his soulmate is proof of that. 

---

So, that’s it. Maybe that got a little bit out of hand towards the end there, and not sure what the endgame for such a soulmate AU would be, except for angst, angst, lots of angst (before a –maybe slightly bittersweet– happy ending). But I just find the concept so very much intriguing!! Also, the worldbuilding would be so interesting. I hadn’t really given that much thought before, but while writing this is realized that the Catholic Church 100% would be ALL OVER the concept of soulmates in a world where they are a proven reality. In my head, a lot of the very angst-ridden thoughts Matt had been of course church propaganda. While soulmates are a reality here, not everyone attaches the same beliefs to them. I do think, however, there generally would be a widespread stigma if your soulmate is a criminal/murderer etc.

Update: Decided to add some gifs ^^

[rainbowsillz]

Their voicelines about you.

FT. Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia and Malleus. + Rollo.

Synopsis: The boys sharing their comments regarding with you, some can be sarcastic, otherwise it's cool ♪

Warnings: None!! Wholesomeness overload <33

꒰ ꕤ ꒱ ─── Riddle Rosehearts

— About you?

“...A question to me? Are you asking to how I think about Yuu? My first impression of them? Well, they are hardly polite if I had to say, with them colliding against a housewarden that is. Yes, I am referring to when they tumbled on me during the beginning of this year. It was admittedly too much. They are a handful to manage. And keen, no doubt about it.”

꒰ ꕤ ꒱ ─── Leona Kingscholar

— About you?

“Oi, what's this? An interview about that herbivore? Did they pay money to you for this? Are they brave for me? I guess? Or moronic since normally no one would be able to handle overblots. It hurts my ego every time I wonder how I lose to them. If that lizard gets beat up like the rest of us, I will be grateful. I can't wait for that day— so I can sneer at him.”

꒰ ꕤ ꒱ ─── Azul Ashengrotto

— About you?

“About them? I fail to understand the point of this topic. They are incisive, hilarious and tactful. Outsmarting others was one thing but me? Me? As much as I dislike to speak this out, they are doing nicely being a prefect on our school grounds... Oh my? You don't believe in me? I am genuine. I haven't scar anyone, have I? You have my word at least.”

꒰ ꕤ ꒱ ─── Kalim AI-Asim

— About you?

“I have been wanting to tell you that! They are carefree, unique, a person you can rely on. Night Raven College wouldn't be the same without them. Please, tell them how much I care for their happiness. Yuu is an honest friend, and them being magicless doesn't change anything. We should look up to them even! Strive to be willing to confess we are flawed.”

꒰ ꕤ ꒱ ─── Vil Schoenheit

— About you?

“Curiosity? What was it that you stated? The supervisor for Ramshackle dormitory? They are skilled in encouragement, diligence, unluckily due to being appointed by the headmaster without proving if they deserve their status beforehand. Some people gossip about them. Ah, do not worry about it, I squashed any complaints they have to that already.”

꒰ ꕤ ꒱ ─── Idia Shroud

— About you?

“They are like the main characters of a shonen manga. C-could they be? Because the dorm leaders like them, some just wouldn't reveal they do. I have the data from Ortho to confirm my observations. I steer clear from them mostly though, they always are around with extroverts.. I prefer my room to them. Are we finished yet? I'm — leaving so bye...”

꒰ ꕤ ꒱ ─── Malleus Draconia

— About you?

“My treasure? An intriguing idea. They are fearless, doesn't mind my ramblings about gargoyles. I was invited by them, it made my heart filled with anticipation and I am rather fond of their remarks. If I am any more selfish I would wish to cage them up inside a tower so that I can preserve them forever. Alas, it's too cruel for them, isn't it? I suppose.”

꒰ ꕤ ꒱ ─── Rollo Flamme

— About you?

“Their decision was unsavory, why must it be Draconia? And what does he have that I do not? It plaques me how obstinate that clueless sheep is. Magic users are notorious, insidious, when will they learn? If only they agree to let me whisk them away from that concept. For I, Rollo Flamme, would not treat them as their Headmaster Crowley does.”

[emeraldspiral]

So we know from the way the comics and ETF handled things that Jhonen doesn't really want to just finish the old cancelled episodes unless the script wasn't previously released. But important lore additions that were revealed in cancelled eps can still make it into brand new storylines. So thanks to the Virooz arc in the comics the information we learned about Irken PAKs in 10 Minutes to Doom is still canon even if 10 Minutes to Doom never happened and never will.

Nothing revealed in The Trial however has really made it into the official canon except the concept of Zim being afraid of being put on trial and executed by the Control Brains, as seen in ETF. But the stuff about Horrible Painful Overload Day and the two Tallest assassinations are in limbo. Nothing has come out to contradict those still being a part of his history, but there's nothing stopping them from completely changing Zim's backstory because it's not officially set in stone.

So what if they were to revisit the idea of The Trial, but with an all-new script where things played out in a different way? Like, what if Dib saw Zim being taken away and followed him to Judgementia so he can witness the trial? He not only learns of Zim's sordid past, but when the Tallest get fed up with him not understanding what he did wrong and thinking they should be impressed, he gets to see them finally tell Zim to his face that they think he's an idiot and an embarrassment and his mission was fake.

Zim tries to act like he thinks it's all a practical joke and a set-up for a surprise party to reward him, but the cracks in his overconfident facade are finally starting to show and Dib can't help but pity him. Just as Zim's about to be executed Dib steps in claiming he can prove that Zim is innocent. He points out the implausibility of Zim being able to cause the amount of destruction he's supposedly wrought. "Why would clogging up one tube cause an entire planet to go dark for 4 years? The only way that makes sense is if your power grids were either designed by a complete idiot, or they were designed to fail on purpose..."

For once, people actually listen to Dib and decide to halt Zim's execution briefly so that new evidence can be gathered and examined. Zim is not happy to receive Dib's help and is uncooperative, clinging to his old narratives instead of being honest about his history and position in society. Eventually though, Dib is able to get Zim to reveal in court how he supposedly created the infinite energy absorbing blob and his description of the process makes it glaringly apparent that he couldn't have actually made it. Following the instructions he provided would've only produced a giant vat of tapioca pudding. That means someone else created the blob and let Zim believe he made it.

It is eventually determined that most of Zim's crimes are actually a result of Vortian sabotage, but he's not entirely exonerated. The sabotage included corrupting the code in the PAK that was implanted in him at birth. So while it's not his fault he's Like That he still very much did ruin OIDI himself, not to mention the stuff he pulled in Backseat Drivers and ETF. Plus, even if it's not his fault his code is corrupted, it's still an intrinsic part of him that can't simply be deleted and replaced with good code.

So they still want to execute Zim, and Dib too. Although they are grateful to Dib for bringing the Vortian's sabotage to their attention and making them realize it's better to kill them all than to rely on their slave labor any longer.

Zim and Dib escape together, but they can't go back to earth because the Empire would look for them there, so they must go on the run until they can figure out what to do.

[hyperfixatedbean]

Why I think Eddie Diaz is autistic !

(As an autistic individual)

- Struggle with emotional expression:

He often struggles to express emotions, particularly in his relationship with women, (look at the way he acted with Sharon, Ana and Marisol, never communicating clearly, or doing it VERY straightforwardly (-> “you should go”)

He struggle with articulating his feelings, to name his emotions and process them (seemingly alexithymia) and he close off a lot, even with his therapist !

- Literal Thinking:

He tend to interpret language literally, (interactions with his colleagues and fast problem-solving, keeping a cool head under very stressful situations, the way he react to jokes, the way he doesn’t believe and ‘judge’ the way they fear superstitions, only believing what he can prove)

It seems to me like he experiences challenges with understanding figurative language or sarcasm and only believe what is proven, he’s very closed off about the idea of superstition which can be seen in some autistic people who struggle with theses concept

And he can be really straightforward (see the “you should go home Ana” or the “last time he wore that was at his mom’s funeral”) -> stating facts straightforwardly without processing it first and without realizing how stating it like that can be ‘awkward’ to others

- Meltdowns and Coping Mechanisms:

He experiences moments of intense frustration and resorts to unhealthy coping mechanisms (-> fights and destroying his room, hurting himself and other in the process (as in a lot of autistic meltdown and the way a lot of us turn to violent coping mechanisms to fight against sensory overload and the complexity of understanding our own emotions -> resorting to violence)

He parallels experiences of sensory overload and regulation, also his panic attacks and the way he avoid addressing his trauma and feelings by brushing it off and ignoring his own mental health, struggling to understand his own feelings about what he’s experiencing

- Difficulty with Trauma and Normalcy:

His reluctance to address trauma and persistent efforts to appear "normal."

It reflects challenges faced by autistic ppl in processing traumatic experiences and blending in with neurotypical society (force conformism and such)

There’s something about the way he and his father approach emotions, keeping it hidden and close off, that resonates a lot with my own experiences as someone autistic raised by someone who’s (probably) autistic too ‼️

+ the way he quickly connect with Buck exemplifies the ‘neurodivergent link’ : ADHD and autism solidarity is a reality ! Neurodivergent people tend to feel more secure, comfortable and friendly with other neurodivergent individuals!!

He basically just give such a autistic energy, like- I really connect with his struggle and the way he interact with the world around him, but please tell me what YOU think 🫶‼️

To have a better view of this part of him we would need more of his pov, sadly we rarely get it so I’m basing this of what I remember, what I personally see in him, what I connected with :’D

(Keep in mind that I probably projecting and it’s just an headcanon, not hate please <3 constructive criticism is welcome tho !!)

Credits it to @thisonemaniac that helped me make this post :D !! We talked about it a bit, I highlighted in orange what he remind me off ‼️

(Since you asked me about it you might want to read this :D !! I explained it better I think xD @lesbianphoebespengler )

[stitching-in-time]

Voyager rewatch s7 ep17: Human Error

Ughhh what a godawful mess this ep is. I don't even know where to begin with all the things wrong with it, but here goes:

For starters, Seven doesn't need another romance plot. They tried and failed with that stupid 'My Fair Lady' episode, and it just doesn't fit her character. Plus, there's a lot of way more interesting things to explore with her than some random nonsensical hetero romance shoehorned in at the last minute, when we should be at a point in the series where established relationships should be the focus, because, y'know, the show is ending soon.

To have Seven 'practicing relationships' on the holodeck is also an incredibly nonsensical choice for the last season- she has real friendships with real people on the ship at this point, she shouldn't have to 'practice' with fake people anymore, jfc, she's way past that. Choosing to recreate people she knows on the holodeck is weird and gross too- they're her friends that she knows and lives with and talks to every day, to choose one of them at random to just have fake holodeck sexytimes with is all kinds of creepy and not okay.

Since this was written in a time before unauthorized recreation of people's likenesses and voices by ai was a real life issue, I guess I can kinda understand why they writers wouldn't have considered the legal ramifications of that, and wouldn't have considered that in the future there would be laws against nonconsensual use of people's likenesses. But even so, just on a human level, I don't get how they could fail to find the entire concept of creating basically a sex doll version of one of your coworkers on the holodeck deeply disturbing and wrong. It should absolutely be illegal, but even if weren't, it's still demeaning and violating and horrible. Seven has learned enough about humanity by this point to know that you shouldn't do that to someone.

And why they'd have her choose Chakotay, of all people, I have absolutely no goddamn clue. They had that whole episode of her trying to find a 'compatible' crewman on the ship before, and Chakotay's name didn't even come up. They have very little in common, no romantic chemistry whatsoever, and Chakotay has long been established to have an unofficial relationship with Captain Janeway for pretty much the entire series. The flirting and pining between Janeway and Chakotay has been there from the beginning and only gets more pronounced as time goes on, to the point that the entire crew has to know about it, even Seven. They literally have romantic candlelit dinners in Janeway's quarters multiple times a week- you gotta believe the crew would be pointing them out to Seven like 'yeah, they say they're not a couple, but that's couple behavior, actually'. Plus, there's something horribly misogynist about some male writer deciding that the younger blonde woman should want to 'steal' the older lead female character's man.

But aside from the terrible writing choices, the scenes of Seven and holo!Chakotay together are just deeply uncomfortable to watch. They're so forced, and so cheesy, the sexual innuendo is so heavy handed, and there's just zero chemistry between them. Idk how anybody could watch this without throwing up in their mouth a little, it's just so bad.

But the cherry on top of this insulting garbage sundae is the idea that Seven's cortical node would overload from 'too much strong emotions' after having a spat with her fictional holo!Chaktotay, when Seven has clearly been through WAY more emotionally wrenching things than that. Are they seriously expecting us to believe that she had a stronger emotional response to having a disagreement with a holodeck character than, say, the time her adopted son Icheb insisted on risking his life to save her when she was dying??? REALLY?! Or stronger than the many times when Captain Janeway showed her compassion and fought for her even when she didn't feel like she deserved it??? REALLY?! Are they fucking kidding?! That's such an insult to her character and all the growth she's had, and all the realtionships she's built over the years. Not to mention insulting to the audience who've been invested in these characters. The idea that heteronormative romance is the end-all be-all of human relationships is clueless and reductive to begin with, and this wasn't even a real relationship with a real person! It was a creepy holodeck sex doll! WTF?!?!

And the fact that the Doctor condones Seven's unauthorized, non-consensual use of Chakotay's image when she tells him about it is worse still- but considering the episode where the Doctor uses the crew's images on the holodeck without their consent is still upcoming, I guess it's sadly indicative of his total lack of moral compass on that issue.

This episode was such a waste- even the one nice scene of B'Elanna's baby shower, where all the characters got to have fun moments and be like a family, was cancelled out, because it was also just a holodeck simulation. Why the hell didn't we get to see the real one? The audience deserves to see the important life events of the characters we've followed for years, we deserve to get to be part of their community on the ship we've come to love- to cheat us out of those moments, which are the backbone of the show- in favor of ridiculous, empty garbage like this episode is worse than lazy, it's insulting. There is absolutely nothing redeeming about this episode whatsoever, and I know I'm not the only one who wishes it didn't exist.

Tl;dr: One of the worst written, most out of character episodes in the whole series, that tried it's best to tear down Seven's character as horribly as it could. Impossible to watch without cringing.

[specialgradefckr]

Have you read "Lucky" by Septembersummer? Or "Counting God's Teeth" by Pastrious? I wish there were more fics where Satoru is a curse or a cosmic horror. 😭

anon you're literally not going to believe this but what if i told you that instead of working on anything i said i would be working on, i actually secretly started ANOTHER oneshot wip wherein gojo is absolutely not human and that inhumanity (and his relationship to humanity as a result) is the central theme -

skjhfldshg that's actually unironically true although it's an idea i first started thinking about like, on the weekend or so.

as for the fics - "Lucky" is absolutely an all time fave! that person just writes some of the greatest fics in general tbh, even if some of them aren't down my alley. but that one was SO full of just delightful humor and sweet relationship building and whimsy!

i want to write satoru/reader like that so badly; satoru in that fic and how weird and tsundere but endlessly in love he is with the reader,,, augh. so perfect. the fact that there's touches of omegaverse elements and soul bonding just makes it even better.

for the other, i almost exclusively read reader-inserts, and almost never read m/m (the rare satosugu/sukugo are actually exceptions for me) so to begin with, i wasn't the audience for that fic. while it was clearly very well-written (the twist was pretty neat!), it just wasn't something i could enjoy, personally.

but i know the elements of the fic that you're talking about and i absolutely love the concept! hopefully in this wip i get to explore some more interesting aspects!

for example, unlimited void is a pretty insane domain when you think about it. it's so absurdly different from all the other domains and techniques in jjk?

gojo already has "sensory overload?" written all over him (although canon makes no mention of it). and a lot of cosmic horror or other-ness comes from beings that can perceive things that we can't.

imagine a 2-dimensional shape. like a square. now imagine a 3-dimensional one. a cube, maybe. now how about 4-dimensional? generally the 4th dimension is conceptualized as time, so it would be a video of a cube.

so what's a cube look like in 5 dimensions? how do you even envision that? how do you draw it on paper? what about 6 or 7?

that's where my idea of cosmic horror comes from. something as natural and universal as space or time or physical contact, suddenly working in a way you don't understand.

gojo has a really exceptional way of tapping into that, because, you know, six eyes, but he also has his unlimited void, which is? sensory perception on a level that apparently nearly lobotomizes a normal person?

how do you SEE every scene you've ever seen all at the same instance? how do you HEAR everything you've heard at one instant? these senses are normally spread out across time, so what happens when the time element is removed?

maybe it's better not to know what a 6d cube looks like. maybe once you stop seeing the 6d cube, you lose a part of yourself, the sense that existed in just that moment that gave you space to understand something you can no longer comprehend.

or maybe you should just fuck gojo, i dunno. even if it's just six of them, they're just eyes. what's it gonna hurt?