#triangular affection

[ahb-writes]

Book Review: ‘My Youth Romantic Comedy...#14′

My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected, Vol. 14 by Wataru Watari My rating: 5 of 5 stars The end is the beginning is the end. And for Hachiman Hikigaya, every awkward and fidgety breath he takes in the final weeks of the semester drags him ever closer toward resolution. Whether that resolution bends to the ephemeral will of a youth gone terribly awry or the oversimplified yearning of a burgeoning adulthood that thrives on indecision, Hikigaya knows this: the nebulous, triangular affection between he and Yuigahama and Yukinoshita must be made real, lest it be increasingly, if not eternally, bent out of shape. MY YOUTH ROMANTIC COMEDY v14 capably fulfills the novel series' enduring promise of delivering a character drama among selfish people who are consistently too stubborn to believe the truth about themselves. Yukino Yukinoshita must overcome her mother's withering glare and her elder sister's insufferable pretentiousness to prove she's capable of governing her own future. She'll never succeed if she keeps bowing her head and taking the easy way out. Yui Yuigahama is overloaded with kind-heartedness but never ventures beyond a careful, cheerful, appeasable smile. She'll choke on her own charm if she's not careful. Hachiman Hikigaya detests in others what he sees reflected in himself; he is rotten, hopeless, and friendless. And yet, somehow, his reliability and persistence, however dark, have proved endearing. Now is not the time to be idle. The prom event that was so masterfully called into being by Hikigaya and his bespectacled allies in the previous volume comes to full fruition. This end-of-year celebration required intense and roundabout haggling that kept Hikigaya on his toes. But the event is here. Will things go smoothly? Will the event meet senior students' expectations? Will the event meet the expectations of worried teachers and meddling parents? Funnily enough, the prom itself is of little concern or consequence to the narrative. More critical to note are the dramatics rummaging about in the shadows. Yukinoshita is under pressure to validate her capacity as a business woman and problem-solver extraordinaire. Yukinoshita is also trying to figure out why she's so comfortable letting Hikigaya get so close, to help her with her problems, and to bolster her position in her most arduous, personal fights. But she cares for that rotten-eyed boy with the messy hair. What would happen if she left him behind? Would she be stronger for it? Or would she suffer her loneliness all the more? Unresolved loneliness is a recurring theme in MY YOUTH ROMANTIC COMEDY v14. The turning over of winter into spring, and the changing over of the academic year, parallel and cradle these thematic notes. People come and go, but loneliness and separation permeate every adult's lived experience. One requires courage and affection and steadfastness to fill these gaps and endure their turbulence. And that's when Hikigaya functions at his best (worst). The young man feels Yukinoshita and Yuigahama slipping away. He doesn't want to lose them; they don't want to lose him; and the girls don't want to lose each other. The tenderness of their bonds varies, but the realness of their relationship is so new and so tenuous that to dismiss it and move on would be a colossal mistake. So Hikigaya hatches a plan. And it's a doozy. It involves that fake, joint-prom from before. It involves deliberately drawing Mrs. Yukinoshita's icy gaze (and then fleecing the woman of her own expectations). It involves shedding the skin of presumption in allying with the idiots at Kaihin Makuhari High School. It involves backing person after person into a corner, leaving them only one way out, and then tagging them on the back as they flee. If readers learn one thing from MY YOUTH ROMANTIC COMEDY v14, it's that Hikigaya will rake everyone over the coals for the sake one, fragile relationship with one, fragile girl. And it'll take all of this guy's guile, resilience, and self-inflicted buffoonery to make it out alive. But if it works, if his plan succeeds, even in the slightest, then the young man will have finally bargained with his inner idiot to confess how he truly feels to the young woman who pushes him the most. Best-case scenario: He will have successfully bartered a sheepish acknowledgment from the source of his affection as to how she truly feels about him. In short, Hachiman Hikigaya manufactures a literal crash-course of human emotions. Yukinoshita feels so worn down that she falters in the face of honesty ("I knew my expression was abnormal, poorly executed, and awkward, but nevertheless, I would have to get better at smiling from the next day onward," p. 57). Yuigahama sobs because her sweetness is a poison to her heart and her heart alone ("I wish I could have hated her," p. 107). And Ms. Hiratsuka, in another grand flirtation with off-brand maturity, reminds readers that human relations, as with life, are hard, because they wouldn't be worth it otherwise ("The answer is inside you. You just don't know how to get it out [..] If understanding came so easily, there'd be no suffering," pp. 198, 200). What does one say when "I love you" clearly isn't enough? Why would one willingly burden oneself with the emotional frailties of another? How many tears must one shed to replenish a heart constantly running on empty? In the end, we learn that romance at the heart of youth only exists when one wants it to. This is paradoxical and inconvenient, and also entirely true. Which is why, once more, Hachiman Hikigaya gambles with his own emotions. But this time, it actually pays off: "It was so arrogant to hope for something unbreakable and real, so I had to use everything in my power to twist it, smash it, hurt it -- test it, or I wouldn't be able to believe it really existed" (p. 238). Structurally, MY YOUTH ROMANTIC COMEDY v14 feels like multiple stories in one. A story with multiple twists and turns, multiple climaxes, and multiple shifts in the emotional latitude the author is willing to reveal about his characters. For example, early in the novel, the author uses rapid-fire exposure to the three Yukinoshita women to draw a definitive, compare-and-contrast calibration of the family's professional-grade loneliness. That is to say, the Yukinoshita women are consistently beset with aloneness, but it's how they respond to it that differentiates them: haughtiness (Mrs. Yukinoshita), bitterness (Haruno), and comradeship (Yukino). As the novel progresses, readers, as well as the protagonist, unintentionally peel away the layers of egotism, shortsightedness, and pity, respectively, which denote and decorate these women's lives. But the journey is worth it. By the time a certain character bashfully chirps, "I love you, Hikigaya" (p. 336), the reader feels just as awed and unready as the narrator. And the peaceful, complicated, meaningful dynamics that enter the fray are a hassle. Such a ridiculous hassle. But it's not unexpected.

Light-Novel Reviews || ahb writes on Good Reads

[kittenintheden]

music to my ears

just a little rainy day eargasm, as one does.

Rating: E Word Count: >1k Content: 18+, elf ears are erogenous zones, touchless orgasm, ear kissing, ASMR, cream dem jeans

---

Rain patters gently on the roof of the tent, the sound a soothing end to an arduous day. Astarion and Tav lounge together purely for the physical affection of it, her arms encircling his shoulders from behind as he sits between her legs, his back pressed up against her.

He still can't quite believe she's agreed to this. No sex? He's never lived in a world like that. But she not only seems willing, she seems eager to discover a dozen new kinds of intimacy.

As if she senses his train of thought, she puts her lips right up to his ear and says, “This okay?”

He hums and arches, feeling a pleasant tingle spread across his scalp and down the back of his neck.

“Is what okay?”

“Are ears okay?” she whispers.

Another wave of tingles passes over him and he grins lazily. “They’re above the waist, aren’t they?” he responds, leaning to the side to give her better access because hells, it really does feel good.

He can feel her mouth move as she hugs him tighter. “Remember you can always ask me to stop if it gets to be too much.”

He chuckles. “What could you possibly do that could be too-”

But then he’s arching again with a gasp as she runs the tip of her tongue up his antihelix all the way to the tip. The wet warmth sends a wash of pleasure straight through him, filling his chest like bath steam and continuing southward to pool behind his navel. His eyes go half-lidded and he swallows.

“Still okay?” she whispers.

Immediately he nods and says, “Yes. I like that. I like that very much.”

“Good.”

He feels her tongue draw over him again, this time behind his ear from base to tip. Then she uses the blunt edges of her teeth to softly scrape back down the outer ridge and he only barely holds back his whine. It’s soothing and erotic in the same moment, contentment and arousal rising in him like the tide.

Inside his trousers, he feels himself growing hard, and it’s not unwelcome. His feet dig into the ground beneath them as he pushes himself back into her, seeking more contact, pressing his back firmly into her chest, and he feels her grin as she places an open kiss to his ear lobe. Brings it into her mouth, gives it a gentle suck.

“Ah,” he breathes, squirming against her as his cock goes fully hard under her attention.

From her position, her own eyes go lustful and glazed as she looks down the length of his body and sees the ridge of him swell and strain against his clothes. Gently, she brings up one hand to play with his hair as she continues to tease his ear with tooth and tongue.

“Pretty,” she whispers in between. “How pretty you are, going weak under me. Who knew your ears were so sensitive.”

He grips her legs tight to either side of him and bites his lip, trying to clear his head enough to respond. “You’re half-elven,” he gasps. “You know exactly… hah… what you’re doing.”

“I do,” she laughs softly. “And you know I know.”

The stimulation continues to coax the flame in his gut, the tension coiling deliciously, making him shudder to the core. She flicks her tongue over his tragus and swirls it into the triangular dip near the pointed tip and he’s panting, panting, nearly writhing against her, using his heels for leverage to push back. His cock twitches, sensitive and untouched, but he feels a crest building nonetheless.

“Would you like to come, dearest?” she whispers right into the center of his mind and he squeezes his eyes shut and whimpers.

He nods, the movement jerky.

“Then come,” she breathes, giving him a hard nip and then a final soothing, firm lick.

His mouth falls open and he all but collapses against her as his hips arch up off the ground and he creams himself, his spend spilling from him in staccato bursts that feel like a brush on the underside of heaven with every pulse. When he’s done, his muscles go slack and he blinks, bleary-eyed, only mildly annoyed somewhere deep in the back of his brain that he needs to get down to the river in short order to wash the trousers he just soiled.

She squeezes him tightly from behind. “Still okay?” she says softly.

“Hnnnnngggggyeah,” he responds.

[slut4msby]

flower shop girl. miya osamu x fem!reader

+ tags & warnings; not proofread

+ a/n; i wrote this at 2am last night as the idea came to me as i tried to sleep so keep that in mind </3

“Just go give him some flowers Y/N it doesn’t have to be in a romantic way, just a nice neighbourly worker gesture!” Your coworker, Emi suggested.

“I’m pretty sure Osamu-san would take it the wrong way, Emi…” 

“But Osamu-san brings us onigiri all the time! So it’s not weird unless you make it weird, Y/N.”

You couldn’t deny your feelings towards Osamu have grown since you started working at the florist. It started with you going to get some lunch and wanting to try “Onigiri Miya” which was located across the road from your work. All your coworkers could only ever speak positively about Osamu’s onigiri. And after trying it you could not blame him. The onigiri was a masterpiece, it was a perfect triangular delight that fit perfectly in the palm of your hand. The outer layer was crafted from expertly seasoned sticky rice. The rice was perfect, not too dry nor too mushy. When the nori seaweed wrapping peeled back a symphony of flavours unfold. It felt as if Osamu had crafted a masterpiece with something as simple as Onigiri. 

However, it wasn’t just the onigiri that stirred something within you; it was Osamu Miya himself. Osamu was fine. More than fine to be honest, he himself was like a Greek god. His physique from his volleyball days had slightly decreased since quitting and pursuing the store, but he was still in beautiful shape. The black Onigiri Miya shirt hugged his body just right. His hair was always slightly messy when he came over to the florists from the Onigiri Miya hat. Not only was he hot, he was funny. Everytime you would see him he would crack some jokes that never failed to put a smile on your face. Not only that despite his more dead-pan face, Osamu was great with his customers. He knew them like the back of his hands, he cared, was passionate and he was funny. God, the true triple threat.

“Plus if Osamu finds it cute, maybe your little crush will go further~.” Emi teased.

You gave her a nasty side-eye in return to her snarky comment. “Okay fine, I’ll bring some flowers to Osamu-san after my shift, if that will make you shut it.” Emi’s face lit up at the comment, “BUT. There is a catch. I get to tell Osamu-san it is a gift from the store for all the onigiri he gives us. Deal?”

“Fine, deal.”

“So… Emi… What flowers do I give Osamu-san?” You say awkwardly.

“Well I would recommend tulips - pink tulips in particular if you don’t want it to be romantic. They convey good wishes, yet non-romantic love and affection. Or maybe some daffodils! To celebrate new beginnings and goo-” Emi rambled.

“Y’know what Emi? I think I’ll just make a bouquet myself…” you mumble as you walk off.

You loved Emi but god she could get on your nerves. 

You begin taking your time putting together a bouquet for Osamu. Nothing romantic, but also beautiful enough to put the wrong idea in Osamu’s head. It wasn’t supposed to be romantic, just a nice gesture. Despite your admiration for Osamu, you barely knew the guy. He could have a girlfriend or even worse a wife. And you were no home-wrecker. You had finally decided on a bouquet with pinks and whites, with pink carnations, white roses and baby's breath flowers. It was simple, effective and didn't give Osamu the wrong idea, perfect.

“Emi-chan I’m clocking out now~” You call out to your coworker.

“Don’t forget your bouquet, Y/N-san! I’m sure Osamu is going to fall head over heels for you and you two will have like the cutest romance story ever! And I Can say I planned it ALL and I better be a bridesmaid and-” 

“Yup, okay Emi.” You say giving her a weak smile and a wave as you walk out.

You crossed the road and walked into Onigiri Miya, the bell jingling as the door opened. Osamu raised his head to greet the customer who entered.

“Welcome! Ho- Oh, it’s one of the flower shop girls. What can I do for ya?” He smiled.

“Oh Osamu-san! I have a gift for you from m- us over at the flower shop because your always so nice to us and bring us onigiri and stuff and we just wanted to say thank you and-” 

He cuts you off from your awkward mess of a speech, “Thanks flower shop girl.” He said walking over to you, grabbing the flowers from your hand. “And don’t ya worry yer pretty little head about it, sweetheart.” He examined the bouquet in front of him, looking at the array of flowers. “It’s beautiful…?”

“L/N Y/N.”

“It’s beautiful, L/N-san. What flowers did ya use?” Osamu asks out of curiosity. 

“Oh well I used white roses which you can obviously see, and some baby’s breath. The pink touch is some pink carnations, my personal favourite flower! They also express gratitude and stuff… so it’s cool I guess…”

“Well I am super grateful for the gift, L/N.” Osamu smiled.

“Oh uhm… You’re welcome! I have to get going now, Osamu-san!” You say waving as you speed walk to the door. Osamu just waves in confusion in response to your awkward actions.

“God Y/N, why are you so awkward?” You silently cuss yourself out as you walk away.

Days have passed since your very awkward flower delivery to Osamu. The interaction still haunts your mind like a bad dream, that’s what you wished it was. As you care for the flowers towards the back of the door, a familiar figure walks in. Osamu Miya. Just your luck, you gave him an awkward smile before continuing your work. Osamub slowly walks over to your coworker, Maki.

“How can I help you Miya-san?” Maki asks.

“Just wondering if you have any bouquets of pink carnations?” Osamu says, looking around the store, attempting to find some.

“Oh we just got some in before, they are a popular choice at the moment. Y/N sells them quite well, they are her favourite after all.” Maki smiles.

“Well Y/N has some good taste then, they are also a personal favourite of mine.” 

“Really! I would not expect that from you Miya! You give off like jasmine vibes.” Maki laughs.

“I only recently found out what carnations are, a very pretty girl said they were her favourite and they just remind me of ‘er.”

A red blush swipes over your face at Osamu’s comment. Were you , the pretty girl? Surely not. Carnations are a common favourite flower and Osamu must know lots of pretty girls, I mean just take a look at him.

Osamu continues his chat with Maki, checking out for his bouquet of flowers. “Thanks so much Miya-san!”

However, Osamu doesn’t leave the store, his steps bring him towards you. He holds the bouquet out towards you, “here flower shop girl. Heard ya like ‘em.”

“Oh really?” You sarcastically respond.

“Yeah, a friend told me.” He jokes back, “a friend also told me I should ask you out on a date, pretty girl. So whatdya say?”

“I’d love to, Osamu.” You smile shyly.

“Tomorrow night at 7pm. Are you free?”

“For you? I guess I could make some time…” 

©slut4msby.

[lokisgoodgirl]

A Gentlemen's Agreement [Reader x Loki/Steve/Bucky]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: It's time for you to make up your mind. And the boys have just the plan to help you do that. (w/c 3.2k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smutty. Teasing. Sexual tension. Not a foursome. A/N: Loki is my king. I just needed to get this out thanks to @sidepartskinnyjeans

The click of Steve’s dress shoes echoed as he ushered you away from the busy ballroom of Stark’s county house. Your nerves were fizzing, but your face didn’t betray the flutter of excitement growing in your belly. In the darkness of the mahogany lined corridor, firelight licked from a solitary open doorway. A nod from the captain urged you silently inside. Walking into the room, your breath hitched. Whatever you had expected from his clandestine invitation in the crowd, this wasn’t it.

Steve circled around you, taking his place in the menacingly sensual line-up. There they stood in quiet stoicism, dressed in fitted finery – the trio of beneficiaries to your relentless flirtations. Their arms were folded, their legs wide in triangular determination. For the briefest of moments, you wondered how all of them had managed to excuse themselves from the party at once. But seeing the way they were taking up space, stretching the air with their achingly large egos, that question was quickly forgotten. Each was more breathtakingly handsome than the last. Rogers. Barnes. Laufeyson. “What is this?” you giggled nervously, snapping to each set of blue eyes in turn. They began to smirk in unison. You shivered despite the heat from the fire. “S’come to our attention you’ve been pulling the same tricks on all of us,” the winter soldier drawled, his accent thick with playful taunt. You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t know what you-” “Oh, I think you do, Agent,” Laufeyson hummed, tilting his head. Long fingers drummed on his bicep as he rocked on his heels. Roaring firelight was haloed behind the ebony mane that cascaded around the shoulders of a midnight-blue suit sitting snug to his body. You pressed your lips together, stifling a whimper. “Look fellas, she’s blushing," Steve teased. The three of them chuckled. “I don’t blush,” you snipped, folding your arms to match them. “And I’d appreciate if you could tell me why the three of you are lined up like...like…” The words you searched for ebbed as you readjusted your feet. It was all you could do not to go over on your ankle in these stupid heels. Heat was building between your thighs, the unmistakeable thump of arousal beating as your addled thoughts raced beneath their penetrating stares.

You knew exactly what Bucky meant. And now it seemed, so did they. You knew bending over to pick up that pen in front of all three of them yesterday was a bad idea. Although, no one in the world would blame you – working with three of the finest specimens of masculinity ever created. Had you gone out your way to tease and flirt with each one of them over the past several months? Possibly. But hey, it was good for morale. And besides, there wasn’t a hope in hell any of them would return your affections. Not serial-bed hopper Barnes, he didn’t fuck where he ate. Not tightly wound Rogers, you seriously doubted he’d approve of subordinate relations. And as for the ice king – you weren’t even sure he knew your name.

The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire. God, you wished it wasn’t so hot. Your eyes searched the floor, hearing Loki clear his throat. “As Barnes noted, you have been toying with each of us in a manner both indecent and egregious these past months.” He let the rhetorical judgement marinate in silence before continuing. “Do you deny it?” You raised your eyes to his, seeing the embers of mischief smouldering within. “No,” you said confidently, as all three men cast conspiratorial glances to one another. Rogers balanced his elbow on a tight fist, raising his fingers to his chin. He narrowed his eyes. “That dress though fellas," he growled with uncharacteristic lust. "Have you ever seen such a thing?” Barnes snorted. “Forget two birds with one stone, that outfit takes out three cocks with one hit.” His blue eyes were dark in the low light, heavy brows shadowing the contours as his chin dipped. “An assassin, even off the clock.” he grit. “And she knows how much I love that neck.” While he was speaking, you instinctively brushed a strand hanging from your up-do away from the boatline collar of the dress. He was right. You did know. You had known ever since the first of his ragged breaths, tangible desire pulsing in his veins and stretching his trousers as he massaged your shoulders. The first time you had asked, he had thought you were joking. But every time you felt the cool flatness of his metal limb against your spine, steadying you as his fingers found every pocket of tension in your upper body – both you and he knew it was no laughing matter. Had you exaggerated the moans of pleasure his touch released? No. There had been no need. It felt fucking phenomenal. Orgasmic, even. And you hadn’t held them back. Your neck had extended to the side as his fingertips pulsed into the most delicate areas, breathy pants filling the air that you hoped made him think of how you would sound as he fucked you into the headboard. “And she knows how much I love those legs,” Steve smouldered, curling a finger against his lips as his gaze ran from your hips to the floor and back again. The dress stopped midway up your thighs, perfectly tight before the sheer drop of your limbs to the heels. You had caught him staring open-mouthed as you pulled yourself dripping wet from the ocean on a mission in the Seychelles months ago. His face had flushed as you’d clocked him running up your femurs, a bite of his lip betraying the base need boiling beneath an all-business exterior.

On every mission, you now made a point of elevating your leg as you snapped on the holsters, lunging forward against the nearest bench. Wall. Anything to drive him mad. You wondered how often he thought of your legs wrapped around his hips while his tactical suit lay strewn around his ankles. Without fail, his teeth always found their way to his bottom lip; a clench of his ass and a forbidden husk of ‘goddam’ under his breath making you smirk as you turned away. “And I think not that I need to point out what aspect of the offending garment is for me,” Loki purred, releasing the cross of his arms to fall behind his back in a ceremonial clasp. “It’s green," Bucky stated, licking his lips. “Yes," Loki replied in baritone, cheekbones sharpening. “It is.”

Loki. Now that was a story. Yes, you had felt the linger of his keen eyes on your ass. But who hadn’t. And yes, his gravelled pleasantries that always dripped a little closer than necessary into your ear were tempting. But the god was a walking temptation. It was his nature. He was indiscernible, a mystery. Aside from briefings, the longest you had ever spent in his company had been when he would extend his hand wordlessly on nights just like this, leading you the dance-floor. All onlookers would see was the standard wrapping of his arms around your waist, and yours over his shoulders. They did not see the small circles grazed on the nape of his neck beneath his curls, the half-innocent moans released by his ear when he brought you in from a spin. They did not see the lingering play of your fingers on the delicate skin of his wrists, the bite of your lip as Loki’s hips pressed into your stomach. A solitary flame in a sea of cold indifference. You’d take any heat from him could you get. They didn’t see his brows twitch as he registered the green lingerie down the carefully calculated neckline of your dress. Just for him. Your breathing had becoming shallow. Were you actually about to have all three of them at once? Was that even physically possible? Two super-soldiers and a god? You didn’t know if you would survive – but something told you it might be worth it. Positions and logistics raced through your mind, making you dizzy. You shook your head.

“OK you got me, I fancy all of you. So what? It’s just a bit of fun,” you gasped, running sweaty palms casually down the front of your dress. “The fellas and I have an idea, if you’re agreeable of course,” Steve said slowly, following Loki in clasping his hands behind his back. You squinted, congratulating yourself for encouraging the captain’s foray into unbuttoning the top of his shirts. His pulse was racing, you could see it pumping beneath his jawline. Bucky still stood with his arms loosely crossed over a waistcoat, the cotton of his thick white shirt bulging against metal and flesh. A sliver of steel glinted in the firelight, sleeves folded up to the elbows. He nodded once, without a flicker of a smile. Fuck, they all looked so good. “A gentlemen’s agreement, if you will,” Loki uttered, a smile curling on his lips. He’d been waiting to deliver that line, you could tell. “You like us. We like you. But we don’t share," Bucky glowered matter-of-factly. You could feel the thin fabric of your panties sticking to your lips, tacky and unbearably wet from this erotic ambush. “You don’t?” you quipped. “What a shame.” “We don’t," Steve repeated. “At least not ye-” he cast a glance to Bucky, before clearing his throat. “We think it’s important you uh...focus your attentions. If that’s what you wanna do.” A sudden thrill raced through your blood. The idea that they had planned this, that they had spoken about you in hushed whispers behind closed doors made your pussy hum with forbidden pleasures.

You wandered to the antique sofa to the side, feeling the heated stares of each of the men follow you. “What’s this gentleman’s agreement, then?” you purred, crossing your legs. Steve swallowed as the tight emerald fabric rode up your thigh. The god of mischief laughed softly, a deep sound which seemed to shake the room like bass.

“Each of us will kiss you, and then you must decide,” he said matter-of-factly. “The unsuccessful will respect your choice of victor and no retaliation will be made.” “Decide?” “Which of us to get to know better," Steve explained, shrugging off his suit jacket. He threw it gently over his shoulder, making it land on the back of a chair behind him with magnetic finesse. Bucky rolled his eyes. “I think what the captain’s tryna say is that we all wanna get to know you, better. So it’s lady’s choice,” he winked. You raised an eyebrow towards Loki. You couldn’t imagine him ever agreeing to something like this. A solitary nod was his only response, eyelashes fluttering down in a moment of panty-wetting reverence. “I accept,” you said slowly, running your eyes across the line-up. Their competitive sincerity was catching. You wet your lips in anticipation, still in disbelief that this was actually happening. Perhaps your corpse was lying strewn on the dance-floor, paramedics hoisting you onto a trolley in a body-bag. Perhaps this was heaven. And maybe it was the low lighting, or maybe it was the dancing shadows licking their wide bodies stacked with endless muscle. But you could swear that each and every one of them was hard. “As discussed. Thirty seconds,” Loki murmured coolly to the men standing to attention on his right, flourishing a hand. Barnes stepped forward, smoothing long strands of chestnut hair behind his ears.

“Alright,” he growled confidently, swaggering the several steps and planting onto the sofa beside you. His thighs spread against the antique furniture, flexing beneath the tight suit trousers as he twisted his torso to face you. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils, smoked wood and lingering sage like a wet autumn forest. His hand cupped your jawline, the steel arm resting on the back of the curved rest.

“Here goes nothin,” he whispered to himself, curled digits trailing longingly down the curve of your neck. They tugged at the neckline of your dress, slipping it over the curve. He leant forward, parted lips colliding with the crescent of your shoulder. Your eyelids fluttered closed, a staggered moan you didn’t realise was hiding released as he worked across your skin. His stubble tingled against the delicate surface, the flat of his nose slotting beneath your ear as his kisses became hungrier against your pulse point. Less delicate. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this, darlin',” he rasped, before licking licentiously from the base of your throat to the angle of your jaw. In seconds, his mouth was pressed to yours; tongue eagerly flicking against your lips before you let him enter. Bucky’s moan was dynamite, fingers guiding your chin as he devoured you in targeted desire. He leant you backwards into the cushions while your arm instinctually slid between his shoulder-blades, pulling him closer. Barnes groaned as his hand slid covetously from your waist and up the curve of your breasts, before burrowing deep into your bun. He thrust gruffly against you on instinct, something thick and menacingly primal dragging against your thigh. The feeling of his fingers tugging at your scalp sent your heat into overdrive, clenching desperately around air. “Time,” Loki purred calmly. Stubble scratched a final time, your hand flying to rest on his metal arm as you breathlessly broke apart with a whimper. Barnes winked, the skin surrounding his mouth pink as he rose and re-joined the other two. You cast glances between them while your chest heaved.

“Do you need a moment?” Steve inquired politely, folding the sleeves of his shirt up further. You watched the veins in his muscled forearms tighten with the movement, the slight bend of his knees as he gave a deferential cough. As if he’s preparing for a fight, you thought as your head continued to spin from Bucky’s kiss. “No, I’m good,” you slurred, smiling as you straightened and patting the sofa beside you. “I prefer it standing, if that’s alright,” Steve said tentatively, brow twitching in mild alarm as he saw your eyes widen. But he didn’t retract it. Standing obediently, it suddenly occurred to you that a kiss on the hand would be very on brand for him, perhaps rethinking his part in this atypical charade. But Steve paced towards you, looking as determined as he did striding down the ramp of the quinjet. Your breath hitched as the captain’s hands cupped your face, walking you expertly back towards the walled bookcase. A shelf pressed against your spine while Rogers bore down, his gentle tongue nudging at your lips; and with a whimper, he breached. The warmth of the muscle caressing your own made your knees wobble. Hard, rippling abdominals pressed flush against your chest, pinning you softly beneath Keats and Wordsworth while his hands began to smooth over your shoulders, over your waist. You felt like the poets would approve. Steve moaned into your mouth as his palms slid possessively down your thighs, grunting as he whipped them forwards effortlessly around his waist. You yelped in surprise before his lips swallowed yours again, ankles crossing around taut hips. The heat from his skin warmed the scent of ginger wafting from the base of his collarbone, its spice firing in your nostrils. The kiss was hungry and desperate and wild. You could feel his solid cock rubbing against your stomach, tasting every inch of your passion as his fingertips dug into the soft flesh beneath your ass. He thrust softly with every wax and wane of his jaw, needy fingers running through his newly mussed golden hair. You pulled greedily before there was a soft clear of someone’s throat. It sounded like Loki. “Time,” Bucky barked, and reluctantly, Steve returned you to the ground. Still in a daze, and with palms spread against the bookcase, your eyes fell on the final figure. “Believe me…” Loki purred condescendingly, “you’ll wish to sit down for this.”

With shaking steps you teetered to the sofa, plonking down with a sharp intake of breath. Loki glided towards you, elegantly manoeuvring his long limbs aside your own. He brought a finger beneath your chin, tilting your head back. “You are so beautiful.” he murmured, before pressing in to a firm, chaste kiss. One of your hands flew to his thigh, running your palm over the hard, forbidden mass concealed tight and thick beneath the cotton. You desperately keened into him, tongue searching against closed lips. Loki withdrew with a chuckle, sweeping the hair from one side of his head. “If you wish me to stop, tell me,” he whispered hot in your ear, a wave of amber and spices and decadence filling your senses before he slipped from the sofa to his knees. Your eyes widened as he gently spread your legs. “The rules did not specify where I could kiss you.” he explained softly, pre-empting the questioning thrill lighting your eyes. Disgruntled huffs from Bucky and Rogers barely registered as you felt a cool tingle of the god’s magic dissolve your favourite underwear.

Loki’s smouldering gaze latched to yours, lust-drunk and determined, before it fell to the glistening mess at his eye level. “Do you consent to my audition?” he hummed, tentatively pushing the sides of your dress to the tops of your thighs. Your stare flickered to Steve and Bucky, suspiciously observing Loki on his knees with pure jealousy. "Yes," you heard yourself murmur under your breath. Fresh arousal was seeping from your centre, spreading down your heated skin. You had never wanted anything more. "Louder, please," Loki smirked, the curve of his fingers fastened to your knees. “Yes, Loki...g-god-” you gasped, brow furrowing as you urged him on with a tilt.

Immediately, his tongue licked a wide, earth-shattering stripe up your slit from base to tip. Your head fell back with a rattling moan, one hand combing through his hair as the other gripped the armrest. Loki quickly moved your legs over his shoulders, sliding you further back. The god’s open mouth latched to your swollen clit, sucking and lapping lower with sinful precision. All you could see was his dark curls and proud brow, the sight of the god buried between your open thighs making reality blur. Every caress made your hips thrust further into his mouth, shaking breaths shuddering your body as he moaned against your wet heat. The noises he made were utter devastation, muffled pants and enthusiastic slurps sounding between your splayed legs as he ate you out like a starving man. Behind your eyelids, you could feel the covetous gazes of the two soldiers rolling over your body as Laufeyson’s fingertips dug into your calves like a hunter. “T-time,” Steve choked. “No!” you gasped, pawing at Loki’s cheek in despair. The god smiled, chin glistening while closing your trembling knees in a move that could only be described as gentlemanly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, unfurling and retreating backwards to the line-up with his arms spread in a show of feigned innocence. You panted, gathering your thoughts as your gaze landed on each of them in turn. “Lady’s choice,” Bucky re-iterated gruffly, widening his legs. Beside him, the captain’s fingers rested wide on his hips, biting his lip while his eyes lingered on the fresh sheen of sweat clinging to your legs. Loki raised a finger absent-mindedly to the corner of his mouth, brushing the edge before sucking it clean to the second knuckle. His eyes smouldered, fixed on you, the flicker of firelight casting deep shadows in hollowed cheekbones. You took a deep breath, the only name it was ever going to be dancing on the tip of your tongue.

🤷‍♂️ For those who want a bit...more - A Gentlemen's Bond is the follow up to this.

Tags @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

[theabysss]

Cat Person

pairing: sagau!Zhongli x Reader

summary: Zhongli feels jealous about you and cats, and then finds out that he has no reason to do this (just fluff).

warnings/tags: gn!Reader, possessive & obsessive thoughts, religious + cult themes.

word count: 1.4 k~

Before your descent into Teyvat, before you again graced them with your presence in the physical form, Zhongli believed that if he had to share your attention with anyone and fight for your favor, it would be your other followers. Archons, allogenes or ordinary people, he was confident that he would surpass them all. As your most loyal follower, he was definitely the best at fulfilling your wishes and was worthy of your time and attention like no one else.

The reality turned out to be a little different. It seems there was nothing in the whole world that you loved more than cats and they reciprocated your love. Every time you and Zhongli took a walk, the result was always a picture of you surrounded by these furry creatures.

By this point, Zhongli had tried quite a lot of ways to separate you and the cats, among which were: attempts to walk in high rocks, where these furry creatures could not exist in principle (somehow they still ended up there and stole all your attention), an attempt when he invited you to the ship (somehow there was still a cat there, to whom you devoted all your time) and many others, all just as failed.

The world itself indulged your love, which of course was very logical and correct, but…

Zhongli sighed. Sometimes Always he wanted you to devote your time to him and only him, without any distractions. The dragon part of him now always narrowed his eyes in displeasure and began wagging his tail jealously at the sight of cats, even when you were not around.

To his great regret, he could not even join your hobby; all the cats instinctively did not like him because they sensed in him a strong, dangerous predator and did not want to expose themselves to his touch. So all that remained for him was the role of a silent observer, burning with jealousy.

He was sure that if your fingers had stroked his hair with the same tenderness, he would have purred no worse, maybe louder and rumbling, but was that a minus?

When, in the privacy of his chambers, Zhongli allowed himself to indulge in fantasies of your fingers playing with his hair, sometimes your nails scratching the scalp, or your gentle touches at the base of his horns, they brought him into a state close to euphoria. And it was so unfair that your gentle touches were enjoyed by irrational animals, unable to fully appreciate the honor shown to them.

Today was the day when you agreed to walk along the old streets of Liyue in the most ancient part of the harbor, Zhongli had about ten minutes of your full attention devoted only to him, until a ginger cat appeared around the corner.

As soon as this animal appeared, you instantly approached it and began to gently stroke between its triangular ears, one of which was torn. The cat purred contentedly and began to rub against your legs, pleased with the attention paid to him and your hands caressing his fur. And who wouldn't be happy in his place? He himself would give a lot to be able to enjoy your affection.

Zhongli could have sworn that the cat's blue eyes flashed maliciously when their gazes crossed for a second. Which of course was absolute stupidity; cats were incapable of gloating. He carefully examined the ginger; there were numerous scars on the animal’s body; it seemed that this cat was very pugnacious.

Zhongli narrowed his eyes suspiciously, there was not a single chance that this was possible…

Before the thought had time to fully form in Zhongli’s head, you finally broke away from the cat, and he lastly meowed mournfully and quickly left under the heavy gaze of the dragon.

"I'm sorry, Zhongli, for this little delay, I shouldn't have…"

"There is absolutely no need for you to apologize to me, Your Grace." Zhongli shook his head, you didn’t have to justify your actions to anyone.

"If you really think so, fine." A slight smile touched your lips and a wave of tenderness washed over Zhongli’s heart.

You continued your walk and he began to talk about one of Liyue's legends that you always enjoyed listening to. Words flowed like a river from his mouth, smoothly painting a picture of the events of past years. But Zhongli's mind did not want to leave one question that he had been wanting to ask for quite some time.

“Why…” The question almost escaped his lips, but Zhongli pursed them, burying the unspoken words. A guilty expression appeared on his face, he interrupted his story, which you enjoyed so much, for the sake of unimportant question. Not that anything concerning you could be unimportant. Quite the opposite, there was nothing more important than you, your interests and personality.

“Zhongli, did something happen?”

The concern in your voice covered him with a warm blanket, the knowledge that you found him worthy of your excitement was pleasant, but what a sin it was to force you to experience even a drop of negative emotions.

“No, nothing important, Your Grace,” Zhongli quickly assured you that everything was fine.

Under your attentive, silent gaze, demanding information, Zhongli could only be glad that he was not in his half-dragon form, in which the tail would immediately betray his anxiety. Your whole appearance expressed that you were not going to just let the situation go.

"You know that you can share with me if something bothers you, and ask if something interests you."

The kindness of your words lay like a balm on his heart. If you really thought that there was nothing wrong with his curiosity at the moment, then…

"Why do you like cats so much, Your Grace?" Zhongli tilted his head in interest, letting his hair fall over his shoulders.

"Hmmm, not really that there's a specific reason. They're just cute little furry creatures, with adorable little paw pads and soothing purrs. I guess I've been a bit overzealous in showing my affection, but these fluffies are impossible to resist."

You laughed embarrassedly and Zhongli glared at your face, the sound as clear as spring water, gentle as the most expensive silk, mesmerizing like the most beautiful picture of nature, filled his ears.

“But do you know what I also love Zhongli?” A playful smile appeared on your lips and, fascinated by it, he could only look into your shining eyes.

You moved so close to him that he could feel the warmth of your body, even through your clothes, your breath warming his lips. Your palm rested on Zhongli’s chest, opposite his wildly beating heart, as if it was trying to leave his body and end up in your arms. He wouldn’t mind if this really happened; his heart has long belonged to you and like all of him.

"And what is it, Your Grace?" Zhongli asked enchanted, completely absorbed in the desire to reduce the millimeters separating your lips.

"Dragons, especially the one with the magnificent golden eyes the color of Cor Lapis."

Your declaration of love and the kiss you gave him were sweeter than any sweetness and clouded Zhongli’s mind better than his favorite osmanthus wine. The touch of your lips steals his breath and every single thought from his head, except for one feeling of euphoria, overwhelming his head. The heat of your mouth, your soft tongue intertwining with his, strips him of any remaining self-control. Zhongli purrs hungrily into your mouth and pulls you closer, wanting this moment, wonderful as a dream, to last as long as possible.

When you pull away, with a ragged breath and a haze of pleasure covering your eyes, the dragon inside Zhongli purrs happily, pleased with the view. He unbearably wants to press his lips to yours again, the knowledge of how sweet they are now will never leave him, the eternal temptation to taste the heavenly taste again, but he is restrained following your will.

“I think you can no longer be jealous of cats, okay?”

Zhongli coughs, trying to hide his embarrassment, it turns out you knew about the feelings he was experiencing all along, and nods in agreement.

As you continue your walk, with your permission, he gently holds your hand in his. Now he is happier than ever.

Reblogs, comments, are always greatly appreciated! ヽ(o^ ^o)ﾉ

[midnight-moth]

Need some fluffy RainDrop maybe with Phantom? Of them just needing to cuddle and sleep after a few rough shows in a row like they've been doing. Maybe Phantoms absolutely exhausted and really craving affection and cuddled but doesn't think he's allowed to join in with any of the pack (especially Rain and Dew) but they bring him in for cuddles and give him all the affection he needs (they all need tbh, especially Rain after that video you posted earlier) <3

Sometimes it’s better not to ask. What’s wrong? What do you need? How can I help? Those questions are better suited to someone who might be able to answer them. And maybe he could, with time and perspective. Maybe not.

Phantom doesn’t know what’s wrong after all. It was all so much fun. A loud disarray of sound and light and applause. Which he enjoyed. So why does he feel like a pumpkin left on the steps after Halloween? All the guts scraped out but for a short while you were filled with warmth, a soft glow that lit up everyone around you.

But now he feels hollow, discarded. He’s fingers drift across one of the plush bats tossed to him on stage. It has a red ribbon tied around its neck. He’s so happy everyone knows how much he loves bats. He isn’t sure how they knew. But he doesn’t know them, what they love, he can’t give them anything back. Just a few hours of his time, a piece of paper with song names on it, a small triangular piece of plastic.

And he realizes that no, they don’t know him at all. Not really. But that isn’t what really gets to him, makes him toss and turn at night, leaves him staring at the ceiling all night. Listening to the muffled sounds of sleep, or the occasional moan or hiss disrupts the near silence.

It’s that he’s surrounded by the same ghouls day in, day out, and they must understand how he feels. And he can see how they all lean harder and harder on one another, ritual after ritual after ritual.

But he doesn’t know that he’s supposed to assume. That he’s allowed to lean too. Rest his weary head on Mountain’s shoulder. Ask for Dew’s burning fingers to dig into his sore muscles. Let Swiss absolutely smother him in a never-ending bear hug. Dissolve into the tattered sofa while Aurora rakes her claws across his scalp. Just be close, let them dry his eyes, a respite for his tear-stained pillowcase.

And the others, they don’t realize that they should offer. Aurora, the self proclaimed pack princess, from day 0 she had no issue asking any of them to piggy back her 4’10” frame when her feet hurt, to wrap their bodies around her like blankets at night when she was cold.

He wonders how loneliness can simultaneously feel like a gaping void, and yet have such presence. Taking up so much room in his body, when he wraps his arms around his ribs and squeezes he can feel it butting up against his insides. He wonders how there’s any room left for his heart and his lungs but they keep beating and inflating anyway.

Perhaps there was something written on his face that day, those particular lines carving a new expression on his face that they’d never seen before. Perhaps that energy they felt when he was summoned, the kind that they were sure caused the ground to shake, felt dull.

Rain noticed first, and Dew merely had to follow his line of sight throughout the day to see for himself. The way Phantom’s body sagged when he wasn’t on stage anymore. That he was barely lifting his feet off the ground as he moved about the venue.

The thud his body made when he collapsed into his bunk that night was like the exclamation at the end of the thought Rain and Dew had both been finding words for that day.

A long run on sentence that contained why didn’t we notice sooner and why didn’t he say anything and have we made him feel unwelcome, unwanted? That last thought, it had teeth, and they dug right into the most tender scar Dew possessed.

At first Phantom thought the depressions in the mattress around him were an illusion. He jumped when fingers connected with his shoulder, nearly smacking his head against the low ceiling.

But soon hands we’re guiding him back down, arms worming their way underneath his ribs and wrapping him up back to front. Rain’s cool hand soothing the ache in his head. Dew’s body heat softening the rigid form his contracted muscles forced him in to.

He tries to speak but the only thing that comes out is a ragged little croak. So Rain presses a kiss to his lips to silence him. It says tell us later, rest now.

“Sorry we made you wait so long, bug.” Dew murmurs in his ear. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard that gentle lilt in his voice before. “But we’re here now. All of us are here, for you.”

[rhaenzokla]

Smoke In My Lungs

Suguru Geto, Satoru Gojo, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro x F!Reader (separately)

Summary: Stoner Boyfriend head canons and blurb

CW: teasing from Gojo (ofc), sexual innuendo in Toji's blurb.

Suguru Geto

Sweet Suguru would be a wake and baker and a night-time puffer.

As soon as his eyes are open in the morning, he's reaching for his grinder and bong.

His bong is his prized possession of his smoking materials.

It's dark blue with black accents wiping all around the triangular base and long neck.

It has a wide hole as he prefers to stick his lips in the opening instead of over the lip.

He defiantly loves to put on some lo-fi in the background as he smokes.

He will absolutely smoke on his own if he can't find anyone to share his stash with, but he prefers a group setting.

He loves the bond between sharing bud and telling/listening to some vulnerable stories.

He's generous with his stash as well (except for Satoru).

One of his friends, or worse, you, doesn't have anymore stash left?

He's bagging up some from his own stash for you to take with you, but only after he smokes you out, that is.

At night, he's smoking bowl after bowl to get ready for sleep.

He's an insomniac with his work, so smoking before always helps him sleep.

Imagine his shirtless frame waking you up from the bubbling sound of his first pull of the morning, smiling at you as he releases the smoke from his lungs. "Want some, baby? It's gooooood." he asks as he waves the bong lightly in front of you. "It's 7am, Suguru, of course I want some." you playfully bite out as you sit up in the bed, taking the bong from him and slowly taking a hit. His lungs are far more used to being abused so early in the morning than yours so you take your time. His eyes droop lowly as the affects of the drug start to take over, making his heart calm and mind slow. You cuddle up into his side and block his arm in the process. "How am I supposed to hit this when you're laying on my arm baby girl?" he asks with a slight aggravated smirk. "Just light the bowl and I'll pull it for you." You're pretty sure you saw hearts in his eyes at your words and he instantly sparks up the lighter, setting to the bowl. You carefully watch the chamber as to not let it get too opaque, pulpit for him as he takes in the hit. He hums softly as he releases the smoke and kisses your head. "I think I just fell in love with you all over again..." He smiles and goes in for an actual kiss, you can taste the left over residue on his tongue. "Why?" you ask, genuinely confused." "Only stoners will know why you touched my heart just now. You'll get there in no time." He chuckles and hands you the bong.

Satoru Gojo

Satoru would be the smoker who will whip out a joint just about anytime he can, especially after any inconvenience.

As you might've guessed, Gojo's medium is joints.

He loves the classic Raw 1.5s but he also loves splurging on flavoured papers, as well as flower wraps.

He has a light blue Bic lighter that he keeps in the inside pocket of his sorcerer jacket.

He used to carry his joints in an altoids container to try and hide the smell before you, his loving girlfriend decided to gift him joint tubes.

Now its smell proof, and he doesn't have to walk around smelling like spicy baby powder anymore.

He can easily finish a joint by himself in 10 minutes or less.

While he enjoys a group sesh, he'd much rather smoke alone or with his partner.

Will only share his stash with you and Suguru, unless they can pay for their share.

Loves shotgunning with you, no surprise here, he loves teasing you, after all.

What better way to do that than to get your lips impossibly close and get the remnants of smoke he allows you to have.

Satoru had just finished up work for the day and he's making his way down the street, smoking a joint. He was meeting you for dinner at a little shoppe at the corner of this road. it hadn't been long since you had made your way to the dining space either, bumping into him on the way. "Funny seeing you here." He says with a smirk, joint lit and realising a thin line of smoke in its wake. "Were meeting for dinner, literally, right now." You chuckle because you knew he was teasing. "Hmm. I remember now... this shit is pretty good, want some?" His head tilts down towards you to gauge your reaction as he takes a slow drag. When you nodded, he pulled the perfectly burned joint from his lips and placed it against your own, his fingers touching your cupids bow in the process, sending shivers down your neck. He chuckled lightly as he pulled away and a light couch left your lips from the potency of the hit. "Let's eat and then I'll teach you how to hit this properly, maybe ill even teach you to shotgun." he finished off the joint as you both made your way to the restaurant, hand in hand.

Kento Nanami

This man, is in no way, shape or form, a stoner.

HOWEVER, he does enjoy a good edible when work gets rough, and a celebratory bowl from his pipe he has just for the occasion.

Now, normally when I say bowl or pipe, you're probably thinking of a glass blown bowl or a titanium two-hitter, but no.

His father passed his tobacco pipe down to him when he passed and since Nanami liked the taste of tobacco even more than Mary Jane, he uses it exclusively for his celebratory bowls.

What celebrations he might break it out for is an engagement announcement, baby announcement, death of someone, and/or birthdays (under certain circumstances)

His favourite type of edible is gummies. They're easier to eat without leaving a residue in his mouth, and its not overly sweet.

He'll definitely take his edible in whatever way you want to make them, but he doesn't have a big sweet tooth, but he'll eat anything you make for him.

"Hey baby! Welcome home!" You smiled wide as your boyfriend walked into the kitchen. "How was work?" He smiles at you, immediately brightening his day. "Not so bad now, Angel." He pulls you into his chest for a quick hug before he realises what he smells. Marajuana and sugar flood his nose after he realises its there. "What ya making, sweetheart?" you can see his nostrils flare slightly as he takes in the smells. "Just some chocolate chip cookies for you. wanted to try a new recipe and since we have that trip coming up soon, I thought that now would be the best time to try it. They should be ready any min-" you were cut off by the timer on the oven, you pull the cookies out and let them set. Two hours and two cookies, for each of you, later and you are relaxing in each others arms on the couch with a random movie on in the background. Both of your eyes start drooping as you slowly drift off in each others arms. Maybe you only need one cookie next time. This recipe is really good.

Toji Fushiguro

This man right here, is the king of stoners.

Bitch is broke because he spends all his money on upping his stash.

He ONLY smokes blunts and wraps. Mofo will pack that shit tight.

And know that he will be using the stash he dropped on his couch two days ago to fill in the gaps.

He can't afford to let any of it go to waste.

He has a four compartment grinder and he waits until he's done with his oz to open the kief collector and smoke a kief only blunt.

He smokes in the morning, during the day, at night before he sleeps, he'll even wake up in the middle of the night and roll another blunt.

Expects you to have your own stash if you wanna smoke with him, no charity cases with him. Even for you, pookie.

Will smoke in a group setting, but he not sharing, and he's the only one allowed to roll.

Rolls fat dubies that take forever to smoke because he packs those shits hella tight.

Makes sure his shit burns slow to make it last.

Toji grumbles under his breath as you make your way down the street, towards a shoppe you wanted to stop by for some time now. "You don't have to come in, babe. Just stay out here, ill be just a second." You smiled sweetly at the tall, fit figure looming over some poor kid that was sitting at the bench closest to the store. The kid instantly booked it when he realised Toji was going to sit and wait for you. He waits deadass two minutes before he gets impatient and pulls out his smoking case, pulling a pre wrapped blunt from the sleeve, holding it in his mouth like a cigarette as he flicks his lighter, carefully lighting the dark brown blunt. He's half way done with it by the time you return back to him, bags in your hands. "See you couldn't wait for me?" You look at him with a fake pout. He stands, taking your hand in his and walking towards your shared apartment. "This is the blunt with just my stash. We can crack our shared one open at home. Then maybe I can crack something else after with those clothes in your bag." He snickers as he pulls one side of your bag open to see a set of lingerie. "Who said I bought this for you?" you snicker evilly as his eyes darkened and stayed silent the rest of the way home. You knew what you were doing, and he knew it too.

©RhaenZokla

Part 2? Let me know!

Thank you for reading!



[ashesandhackles]

Harry and Dumbledore: Crisis of Faith

The Life and Lies of Dumbledore chapter from DH lives rent free in my head, and I would love to get on my soapbox about why. It's no secret that DH is an allegorical tale with Harry as Christ figure and Dumbledore positioned as God figure - often represented by the symbolism of the all-seeing eye. The eye in the mirror (which turns out to Aberforth, who sends Dobby to the rescue), the symbol of Deathly Hallows in Dumbledore's signature.

Eye symbolism:

A flash of brightest blue. Harry froze, his cut finger slipping on the jagged edge of the mirror again. He had imagined it, he must have done... If anything was certain, it was that the bright blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore would never pierce him again.

and

 Above what Harry assumed was the title of the story (being unable to read runes, he could not be sure) , there was a picture of what looked like a triangular eye, its pupil crossed with a vertical line.

The Deathly Hallows or the Gifts of Death is marked by a triangular eye - and it is explicitly seen as God's eye in Christian art and iconography.

So now, back to the chapter, where Harry completely loses faith:

The sun was coming up: The pure, colorless vastness of the sky stretched over him, indifferent to him and his suffering. Harry sat down in the tent entrance and took a deep breath of clean air.

The chapter opens with the smallness of Harry against the vast sky, a bird's eye view shot to really highlight how vulnerable he feels. On the heels of the chapters where he sees himself and his family immortalised in statues and have their bombed home preserved as memorial - a site people take comfort from the legend of Harry, and Harry takes comfort from the graffiti they left behind - it feels especially isolated. The vulnerability is glaring: Harry has lost the protection of the twin cores. The church bells are distant.

His senses had been spiked by the calamity of losing his wand. He looked out over a valley blanketed in snow, distant church bells chiming through the glittering silence.

Harry does not deal with vulnerability, most specifically helplessness very well. As a child raised in an abusive environment - his savior complex is rooted in needing to have agency. We see him grappling with what he perceives as complete abandonment from Dumbledore: 'Dumbledore had left them to grope in the darkness, to wrestle with unknown and undreamed-of terrors, alone and unaided: Nothing was explained, nothing was given freely, they had no sword, and now, Harry had no wand.'

And then, Harry reads the chapter titled Greater Good from Rita Skeeter's book.

So what was Albus doing, if not comforting his wild young brother? The answer, it seems, is ensuring the continued imprisonment of his sister.

This is important, because Harry's feelings about this are made clear in earlier chapters:

Could Dumbledore have let such things happen? Had he been like Dudley, content to watch neglect and abuse as long as it did not affect him? Could he have turned his back on a sister who was being imprisoned and hidden?

Harry is projecting onto Ariana Dumbledore, specifically with his experience of the Dursleys. He had once raged at Dumbledore in OOTP: "People don't like being locked up! You did it to me last summer!"

Harry's grievance with Dumbledore is not just about this exchange, but a specific choice Dumbledore made for his physical safety with blood wards. The narrative comes close to acknowledging it, in OOTP:

“Five years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I had planned and intended. Well — not quite whole. You had suffered. I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle’s doorstep. I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years.” He paused. Harry said nothing.

to

“She doesn’t love me,” said Harry at once. “She doesn’t give a damn — ” “But she took you,” Dumbledore cut across him. “She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother’s sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you.”

to

He knew one thing, though: unhappy as he felt at the moment, he would greatly miss Hogwarts in a few days' time when he was back at number four, Privet Drive. Even though he now understood exactly why he had to return there every summer, he did not feel any better about it. Indeed, he had never dreaded his return more.

Harry understands it then, so it is striking that the only time he allows himself to get truly angry at the position Dumbledore put him in this chapter, through Ariana:

 “I’m not trying to defend what Dumbledore wrote,” said Hermione. “All that ‘right to rule’ rubbish, it’s ‘Magic Is Might’ all over again. But Harry, his mother had just died, he was stuck alone in the house —”   “Alone? He wasn’t alone! He had his brother and sister for company, his Squib sister he was keeping locked up —”

“I don’t believe it,” said Hermione. She stood up too. “Whatever was wrong with that girl, I don’t think she was a Squib. The Dumbledore we knew would never, ever have allowed —”   “The Dumbledore we thought we knew didn’t want to conquer Muggles by force!” Harry shouted, his voice echoing across the empty hilltop, and several blackbirds rose into the air, squawking and spiraling against the pearly sky.

I am especially struck by the image of Harry's angry shouting making blackbirds fly into the pearly sky, and spiral over him. Blackbirds are associated with mystery, secrets and are seen as messengers to netherworld - this combined with the image of pearly white sky (heavens/God) seems intentional. It is carrying Harry's disillusionment to the heavens.

And then, the quote that pierces my soul, which is the heart of this chapter:

“Maybe I am!” Harry bellowed, and he flung his arms over his head, hardly knowing whether he was trying to hold in his anger or protect himself from the weight of his own disillusionment. “Look what he asked from me, Hermione! Risk your life, Harry! And again! And again! And don’t expect me to explain everything, just trust me blindly, trust that I know what I’m doing, trust me even though I don’t trust you! Never the whole truth! Never!”

It is reminiscent of Snape's "you have used me! I have spied for you, lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you" - basically, "why have you forsaken me?" moment.

 He had trusted Dumbledore, believed him the embodiment of goodness and wisdom. All was ashes: How much more could he lose? 

The chapter being set in whiteness and emptiness, reminiscent of King's Cross chapter where Harry does get his answers from Dumbledore.

And then Hermione, who has modified her parents memories, can confidently assert that "He loved you, I know he loved you", because her love for her parents, for Ron, can also be sacrificed at the altar of greater good, even if it means doing things that would hurt them (not choosing to go with Ron) and dismiss their agency (as is with her parents). It doesn't mean she doesn't love them.

  “I don’t know who he loved, Hermione, but it was never me. This isn’t love, the mess he’s left me in. He shared a damn sight more of what he was really thinking with Gellert Grindelwald than he ever shared with me.”

Harry ends the chapter with seeking comfort from Hermione's touch, brushing his hair - wishing he could believe that Dumbledore really cared. (shoutout to @bluethepineapple meta here about this chapter)

And it is then where Dumbledore's gifts come in motion next chapter: his Deluminator lets Ron find his way back. Snape, effectively Dumbledore's man, sends the doe. Harry counts on what he learned from Dumbledore to destroy the Horcrux - he gives Ron the opportunity to wield the sword:

As certainly as he had known that the doe was benign, he knew that Ron had to be the one to wield the sword. Dumbledore had at least taught Harry something about certain kinds of magic, of the incalculable power of certain acts.

And then by Shell Cottage, Harry accepts Dumbledore's plan as is, and reaffirms his faith in Dumbledore's idea of Greater Good:

Dobby would never be able to tell them who had sent him to the cellar, but Harry knew what he had seen. A piercing blue eye had looked out of the mirror fragment, and then help had come. Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.

And then Harry chooses to stay on path Dumbledore laid out for him, only wishing now that he simply understood the man:

When Harry had finished speaking (about Voldemort), Ron shook his head.   “You really understand him.”   “Bits of him,” said Harry. “Bits . . . I just wish I’d understood Dumbledore as much. But we’ll see. Come on — Ollivander now.”

And finally, he starts to understand Dumbledore - through his conversation with Aberforth:

"And Albus was free, wasn’t he? Free of the burden of his sister, free to become the greatest wizard of the —”   “He was never free,” said Harry.   “I beg your pardon?” said Aberforth.   “Never,” said Harry. “The night that your brother died, he drank a potion that drove him out of his mind. He started screaming, pleading with someone who wasn’t there. ‘Don’t hurt them, please . . . hurt me instead.’”   “He thought he was back there with you and Grindelwald, I know he did,” said Harry, remembering Dumbledore whimpering, pleading. “He thought he was watching Grindelwald hurting you and Ariana. . . . It was torture to him, if you’d seen him then, you wouldn’t say he was free.”

Finally, he gets his chance to have a conversation with Dumbledore at the crossroads of life and death. TLDR: Deathly Hallows is an allegorical tale and it is best to treat it as such and roll with it, because otherwise it's deus ex machina galore.

[fishsfailureson]

"What is to come"

(image id is both in the alt text and below the read more- I put it under one because it's incredibly long)

And so there we have it, the 200+ followers artpiece that I have been working on for several days, if I had to guess I'd say it took 25 or so hours over eleven days. Honestly it's so surreal to me that I'm here with over 200 followers (260 as of typing this- yes, I procrastinated on this), especially when I only hit 100 followers in February. It's genuinely really nice to know that people are actually interested in my art (before anyone brings up spam bots- I know there are a few of them amongst my followers but I've checked most of them and I am 100% confident that over 200 of them are real). I don't really have much else to say really- I'm just grateful to have the support. Thanks y'all :).

[Image id: a large, lineless digital drawing of several dinosaurs. It is nighttime. At the bottom of the piece, a lone Eoraptor lunensis is walking across the floodplains- both the ground and the Eoraptor are just silhouettes, the early dinosaur has been given protofeathers. The full moon is shining, it's size is exaggerated for artistic affect. Behind the moon, the heads of sixteen different dinosaurs can be seen (listed left to right, bottom to top) Row 1- Thecodontosaurus antiquus (small sauropodomorph with light brown protofeathers, near-white undersides, straight stripes that are moderately darker than the base colour and vibrant green eyes), Coelophysis bauri (small early theropod with a long and narrow skull, its protofeathers are golden and black. A soft orange stripe runs across the back of its head, it has warm brown eyes. Row 2- Plateosaurus trossingensis (long-necked sauropodomorph, it has reddish-brown scales, light undersides, triangular stripes running down it's spine that get bigger the further down they get and pale yellow eyes), Heterodontosaurus tuckii (small ornithopod with a hooked grey beak. It has spiky green feathers, a lighter chest and a darker stripe running along its head and back, there are three small spots on its face, two behind the eye and one infront of it, it's eyes are bright yellow). Row 3- Megalosaurus bucklandii (medium-sized theropod with warm brown feathers, lighter undersides, dark spots and bright yellow eyes, there are several scars on its face), Brachiosaurus altithorax (greenish-grey true sauropod with lighter undersides, a dark pink patch on its throat, dark desaturated brown eyes and a few small scars on its neck), Archaeopteryx (early toothed bird with a black head, white neck and bright yellow eyes). Row 4- Hylaeosaurus armatus (pale brown ankylosaur with lighter undersides and vibrant green eyes), Velociraptor mongoliensis (dromaeosaur with light brown feathers, a lighter chest, a black stripe near its eye and light green eyes), Sinosauropteryx prima (small compsognathid theropod with ginger protofeathers, an off white mask and undersides and pale yellow eyes), Iguanodon bernissartensis (large greenish-grey ornithopod with a slightly darker back, pale undersides, a grey beak, and yellow eyes). Row 5- Matuku otagoense (heron with medium grey feathers and a small crest. A red stripe runs from just behind its nostrils to about a third of the way down its neck. Its undersides are white, its beak is grey and its eyes are brown), Triceratops prorsus (three-horned ceratopsian with grey-brown scales, lighter undersides, two triangular stripes between it's brow and nasal horns, reddish-orange diamond-like stripes on its frill, a hooked grey beak and golden eyes. Its brow horns curve forward at the base. Row 6- North Island brown kiwi (plump brown bird with a long pale beak, whiskers and black eyes, its nostrils are at the tip of its bill, and unlike the other dinosaurs in the sky part of its body below the neck is visible), male house sparrow (small redish-brown and grey bird with a black bib below it's bill), it has brown eyes and a dark grey bill. Row 7- rock dove (grey bird with iridescent green feathers scattered across its neck, a dark grey beak, and warm brown eyes). end id]

[furiarossa]

Piebaldism refers to the absence of mature melanin-forming cells (melanocytes) in certain areas of the skin and hair. It is a rare autosomal dominant disorder of melanocyte development.

Common characteristics include a congenital white forelock, scattered normal pigmented and hypopigmented macules and a triangular shaped depigmented patch on the forehead. There is nevertheless great variation in the degree and pattern of presentation, even within affected families.

Although "partial albinism" is a synonym for piebaldism,[3] it is a fundamentally different condition from true albinism. The vision problems associated with albinism are not usually present as eye pigmentation is normal. Piebaldism differs from albinism in that the affected cells maintain the ability to produce pigment but have that specific function turned off. In albinism the cells lack the ability to produce pigment altogether.

Hypopigmented patches of variable extension, irregular, bilateral, symmetrical or asymmetrical, well demarcated, can also be located along the midline on the chin, chest, abdomen and middle third of the limbs. Subsequently, you may see the appearance of hyperpigmented patches in the center or at the edges of the hypopigmented patches or, less commonly, on normal skin.

Piebald hypopigmentation usually does not affect hands, and since we always see Vlad covered from neck to feet (personally we tend to not consider much the informations that we get from the third season, everything is so silly...), can it be possible for him to have the hypopigmentated pattern on his body? Y'know, typical piebald pattern?

(Illustration from this document)

(A little unrelated curiosity, and I don't know why I find it amusing and interesting, but Aldo Moro, one of the most famous and important Italian prime ministers, was piebald and he's on the Italian wikipedia page for piebaldism)

[totokoismyfav]

Hi! I would like to request a Headcanon of the sextuplets, DaddyMatsu please! , something fluff/Funny where the children of the sextuplets find their Dad old sweaters (You Know with The Matsu Simbol) and put them on because they seemed comfortable, and when the S/O of the matsus sees her Son/Daughter she can't help but say something like "Awww my baby look like her/His Dad! so cute!" and the son/daughter, to play along with his/her mother, does or says some action or word typical of his/her father, imitating him.

(Sorry if it was not understood or if it is too much, I was really excited about something like this)

Have a Good Morning/Afternoon/Night!

wahhh this request was so cute, tysm for submitting! also sorry this is my first time writing for most of the brothers (i mainly wrote for Choro in highschool loll)

osomatsu san sextuplets /reader | daddymatsu! shenanigans

Osomatsu: A little chip off the old block, that’s what Osomatsu’s son was. The little rascal was digging through one of the many closets in his home when he found the red sweater his dad wore for so many years back then. “Whatcha got there kiddo?” The young boy looked behind him as he saw his dad leaning against the open door frame of the closet, smiling warmly down at him. The little boy had his father's hoodie on over his small frame, his smile reminiscent of his father. Osomatsu’s s/o walked into the cute sight, sighing as they laughed softly. “It’s like I’m seeing doubles. You look just like your father.” Just then, their son rubbed the top of their lip with their index finger, “Ha ha! That’s my boy!”  Karamatsu:  His heart swelled with affection and pride when his little girl found his old blue sweater while looking through some old boxes in the living room, her small hands picking the large lump of fabric up and grunting up at her daddy. “Oh my little dove, you want to wear it?” His oh-so-smart girl nodded her head, she was growing so fast. He chuckled and complied, putting the hoodie over her head and draping it over her tiny form. “So cute!” Karamatsu heard from behind him as his s/o walked into the room, their eyes glued to their daughter. “She looks just like you hon.” He smiled and nodded, “Although, it’s missing something dear.” Karamatsu then dug through another box, pulling out an old pair of sunglasses and put them on his daughter, smiling as they were too big for her and ended up being lop-sided on her head, earning a few giggles from the toddler. “There, now she’s perfect. Although, my little darling was always perfect.” Choromatsu: Choromatsu about died when his toddler daughter walked into the room, wearing his old mint green hoodie from back in the day. The hoodie was too big for her, dragging across the floor as she tried to walk around in it. He smiled as she waddled up to him, holding her arms out to him as she smiled. She was definitely his little girl, triangular-type smile and all. He, of course, took her into his arms as his s/o walked into the room, handing their baby off to them as they smiled. “She looks so much like you,” They remarked, “So cute!”. The adorable moment was interrupted by the little girl shouting, “Fappymatsu!” with a heap of giggles. “WHO TAUGHT HER THAT?!” Ichimatsu: Oh, he felt like he was going to throw up. Not because he was disgusted or anything, far from it. He was overflowing with pride and joy, a bit too much for his liking and body to handle. He’s definitely not used to these feelings, he’s been feeling it so much lately but he’s willing to put up with it to see his little girl happy and thriving. The sweater, which was way too big for the small toddler, was draped across her body as she walked around the house; pretending she was her father, even messing up her hair and slouching a bit. Ichimatsu thought he had locked the old ratted piece of garbage up in the attic but apparently not. His s/o watched from the couch as they laughed, “She looks just like you!” Just then, his daughter brought her fists up to her face and did a signature cat pose. Ok, now he’s really gonna throw up. Jyushimatsu: Jyushimatsu had walked into an interesting sight, his young son had found his old yellow hoodie in the pile of laundry in the laundry room. He let out his signature laugh as he picked his son up, spinning him around as the pair of them giggled and laughed. “Ha ha! You look just like me!” Just then, his s/o walked up with a basket of laundry and laughed alongside them, “How cute Jyushi, it’s like a mini you!”  The young boy shouted “Hustle hustle! Muscle muscle!” He had heard his father's signature catchphrase before from him shouting it throughout the house. Jyushi let out another laugh, “Yeah, that’s right! Hustle hustle! Muscle muscle!”  

Todomatsu:  Where was his phone, he needs to find it right now. His little girl had somehow pulled his old pink hoodie off of one of the hangers in the closet as she walked around the house, trying not to trip and fall over the long fabric. Todomatsu scrambled off the couch as he searched for his phone, “Stupid thing! It’s too small, I need to upgrade that piece of shit.” “Mind your language hon.” He looked behind him to see his s/o holding his phone, already taking pictures of their daughter. Totty smiled as he kissed his s/o on the cheek and took his phone back, already taking more pictures. “So cute, she looks just like you!” They proclaimed, just then his daughter pretended to take pictures with her own pretend phone just like her daddy. Time to switch to video!

[yeehawpim]

HI UM i really admire you and your art and i was wondering --

so i really love the way you format your comics, its really straight-forward and lets the reader process every word with ease (which i think adds to the impact of the writing), and that one rue comic with the split colors for the parentheses... how do you do it without making it look so messy?? to bring up another example, the hide-and-seek comic- i love how subtle and genius the call back to hiding behind the door was, it blew my mind... i take a lot of inspiration from the way you format and lay out your comics but for some reason i cant wrap my head around how you do so much with so little (in reality this might just be the result of me wanting to add so many little details for others to find , while being conflicted on keeping it simple, and,,, AGH...) for context : im trying to make a comic about isolation, but i keep filling up the page because i want to add things - when really i know i should be keeping it simple... but other than removing unnecessary details, i want to know what else you do to make your comics so clean and simple yet it rips out the emotions from your heart and has you stare at it as it beats. like... i want that type of impact!! i want to affect others on such an intense level!! i want to induce emotions!!! but how?

(sorry this was long, HAHAHA i just want to drive my point home- again with the 'wanting to add a lot of stuff to prove a point' thing but i digress)

ok first of all that is a huge compliment and it means v much to me, thank you 😭🙏❤️❤️

tbh for me the answer of keeping things uncluttered is paying attention to spacing and eye direction. Spacing depends on timing, if you want an action to happen slowly for instance you can make the space between panels longer, or take more panels for someone to complete an action. There's tricks for directing your eye, if you ever read anyth about focal points (eg biggest contrast, triangular shapes pointing towards what's important), but really with comics I keep in mind you're reading left to right and top to bottom.

The ruehob comic is actually simpler than you think 😅 I already knew which text had to be on the left and right with august's text post. And after that the "lanes" were so narrow there weren't a lot of complicated things I could do, just make sure you still read left to right and saunter vaguely downwards.

when you talk about putting little details, that doesn't necessarily have to distract people. Like I honestly applaud you having the drive to do detailing. You just have to make sure your compositions allow for it. Like if you think about ghibli backgrounds, they're elaborate and beautiful af.

For smth about isolation, my first thought was that you can draw a person in a setting alone among a bunch of objects, for instance. If you keep the person small but surround them with a bunch of detailed objects, it could feel very lonely. Just make sure the person still stands out b/c they're what's important, so for example the background stuff is a less saturated colour, or the person is the least detailed thing on the page. I think that's the main thing, you just have to make sure the things important to what you're saying stand out. Clarity is rlly half the battle when I'm laying things out haha

In school our teacher called this "killing your babies" because it sucks when you work hard on a cool drawing and it just doesn't work out😂This also still happens to me, it's actually partly why I keep things simple so I can work fast and throw out less

Here is a timestamp from supereyepatchwolf's video about Chainsaw Man, which has some of the coolest fuckin layouts

He's got other stuff that talks about manga and how eye direction can work and what cool stuff has been done. Off the top of my head his vid about one piece and his vid about gantz have helped me understand how to cause Emotions. Also I think he has one about Junji Ito that specifically talks about how details can make you scared, if you're into that 😂

hope this helps!

[webby-mogai]

cannobjectum attraction

[pt: cannobjectium attraction /end pt]

A cannibalistic attraction towards objects; an objectum cannibalistic attraction. This can be in the context of objectkin, seeing objects as people/peers, etc. This can include wanting to eat one's object of attraction, be eaten by it, mutual cannibalism, cannibalism as a form of affection or devotion, etc.

simplified/accessible

[pt: simplified/accessible /end pt]

Based on the gendercannibal flag and colors based on the objectum flag

[cannobjectum flag id: a rectangular flag with 13 horizontal lines. the 1st, 2nd, 12th, and 13th line are triangular. the 4th and 10th line are wavy, and the rest are straight. line sizes in this order from top to bottom: 2 thick, 9 medium, 2 thick. the 4th line has been made to look like it is dripping from multiple spots. the colors starting from the top going down are: reddish black, dark red, purplish red, dark purple, lighter purple, pale yellow, white, grey, teal, darker teal, and the same dark red and reddish black as the top 2 stripes. in the center of the flag is a heart shaped piece of meat with red and white flesh. /end id]

[divider id: a transparent divider with cartoon drawings of a heart, an eye, and lungs in that order. it repeats 5 or so times /end id]

[simplified cannobjectum flag id: a rectangular flag with 13 horizontal lines. the 1st, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, and 13th line are medium thickness, the 2nd and 12th lines are thicker, 3rd and 11th are thinnest, and the 4th and 10th are thickest. the colors starting from the top going down are: reddish black, dark red, purplish red, dark purple, lighter purple, pale yellow, white, grey, teal, darker teal, and the same dark red and reddish black as the top 2 stripes. in the center of the flag is a heart shaped piece of meat with red and white flesh. /end id]

[divider id: a transparent divider with cartoon images of a brain, a tooth, and intestines in that order. it's repeated 5 or so times /end id]

[banner id: a black banner with a white outline and white outlined text with a drawing to the left on a transparent background. the text reads "READ MY IWC" in big text and underneath it reads "anyone can use my terms but I will block you" in smaller text. to the left is a drawing of Higan drawn by John/TOOBOE squatting with her knees together. /end id]

[arceespinkgun]

Jazz in "The Magnificent Six!" Character Analysis

When I completed my read of the Marvel UK Transformers comics, I was blown away by a text story in one of the annuals: "The Magnificent Six!" Not only is it the darkest this continuity ever got in my opinion, but it also recontextualized the personalities and behaviors of the main characters who appear in it, putting all their previous appearances in a different light. This was especially affecting since this story comes right near the end of the entire continuity, so that's years' worth of material that it made me reassess.

"The Magnificent Six!" follows Jazz, Prowl, Wheeljack, Inferno, and Sunstreaker, and how war has changed them. It recounts their experience with attempting to free a neutral town from Decepticon control and how the whole situation goes horribly wrong due to events largely out of their control, while also exploring the impacts of survivor's guilt. In the present, Optimus unknowingly sends them on a mission to that same place and they are forced to confront and work through their trauma. There's a summary of the events in chronological order here or see the story as it's meant to be read, with multiple perspectives and flashbacks throughout, on 🏴‍☠️ websites just by searching, "transformers UK annual read online" and selecting the second-to-final annual.

Content warning: this story includes sadistic torture on top of its other dark themes, and I'll have to make reference to the disturbing content.

In this post, I want to break down how this story made me see Jazz—one of my favorite transformers—differently, and why I think this is such an interesting and effective backstory for him. Something to note about "The Magnificent Six!" is that despite Prowl having been the leader of the titular team, Jazz is the central focus. He gets a flashback to himself, Megadeath (the Decepticon leader they face in the story, particularly sadistic and zealous even for Decepticons) attacks him first, he is the one to tell the whole truth of what happened to Silverbolt, and his words close out the story.

Hint: the Autobot you don't recognize who's standing on the hill is the one who didn't survive

Jazz's Characterization

Jazz's characterization in the rest of this continuity is similar to the way he is in the Sunbow cartoon... at least, on the surface it is. He loves Earth culture, especially music and dancing! He's really good at improvising! He tries to be positive when he talks to people! But he can also be kind of hard to read. There are some less obvious things about Jazz's character as well. There's another annual story I've posted in full that seems to indicate that while being pleasant on the surface, Jazz internally judges the people around him. He gets antsy when he's stuck in one place too long.

And at his core, he seems to want to just soak in the sights and appreciate life quietly without war or other people around.

Jazz meets a deer!

Jazz is very eager to try diplomacy as a strategy, and in an early story, secures a fuel source this way.

I bet Jazz learned about capitalism by listening to "Material Girl"

However, while Jazz is depicted excitedly absorbing human culture, he doesn't necessarily feel like he understands humans or that he's understood in turn. While he interacts with humans, there is often a distance in those interactions.

Jazz was sometimes drawn with triangular eyes under his visor that make him look old and depressed

Jazz also sometimes comes across as being deadened to violence. I remember in one annual comic, he shoots at Starscream and ends up killing a human villain Starscream had abducted, and Jazz never thinks about or talks about it afterward.

In one of his early interactions with humans, he also didn't seem to register that preventing Sparkplug and Buster from running out of the Ark with a flamethrower might hurt them in any way.

A calm also applies to when violence is inflicted upon him: in the Target: 2006 story arc, when he's captured and tortured by Galvatron, he's very calm throughout until the end, when he just laughs at the turn of events.

I love that Galvatron gives a long speech about his origin and fight against Unicron and Jazz's reaction was just to be like, all right, guess that's one less thing I have to worry about LMAO

Speaking of Galvatron, in this continuity, there's an alternate universe in which Unicron ate Cybertron and Galvatron was conquering Earth for him. In that reality, Jazz ended up as one of only three survivors (Jazz, Prowl, and Inferno... hey, also all members of the Magnificent Six lol) and when he was about to face Galvatron in a last stand he believed was suicidal, his dialogue revealed a lot about his character.

All of these traits I've mentioned will be explored in "The Magnificent Six!"

Jazz in "The Magnificent Six!"

In the opening of the story we Jazz from a unique perspective. The first notable thing is that we learn who he was back before Optimus Prime became a leader. Jazz was a freedom fighter who went around liberating territory from Decepticon rule. Not only that, but because this first flashback begins from the perspective of a Decepticon guard (Steamhammer, said to have been a killer even before the War), we get a rare glimpse into what the Decepticon perspective on Jazz was back then. It sounds like he was one of the most dreaded and hated of the Autobots!

And the reputation appears to be well-earned. Jazz in the past here seems noticeably different in personality—he comes across as hot-headed and more of a leader. Notice how unsure the supposed leader of this team, Prowl, comes across in this flashback, in which he instead looks to Jazz for approval.

Later, when we see Jazz's flashback, we get further context into his character, and suddenly his love of other cultures and their media is so bittersweet. In this flashback, he's running over the events in his mind, trying to figure out when everything went wrong. Ultimately, he blames himself for nearly laughing at the offensive joke Sunstreaker told to try and lighten the mood after the citizens' museum was bombed—Jazz believes that's when everything fell apart. So of course he'd be so focused on culture!

And of course he doesn't speak his mind! His guilt would prevent him from doing so.

Especially given the consequences. For people who haven't read the story, note that I'm going to describe the darkest part now. We get to look into Jazz's mind as he's being tortured, melting to death. Laughing maniacally is his response to being pushed past the brink of despair.

This is notable because as shown above, when he's captured and tortured by Galvatron millions of years later, he has this exact same reaction!

Essentially, in retaliation for the seven days the team was able to fend off the Decepticons, Megadeath had them tortured for seven days. That included the melting scene. But he only inflicted physical pain upon five of the six—one, Stampede, a beastformer, he left untouched, but forced to watch as his friends were broken mentally and physically. Then, he gave the five disassociating team members to the count of ten to prevent him from executing Stampede in front of them, knowing they were too mentally damaged to even move, making them feel consumed with guilt.

And as if that wasn't enough, he then told them he'd left a nuclear bomb beneath the town they'd tried so hard to save, and they couldn't find it in time before it blew up. They then ran away in shame and feigned amnesia for millions of years.

I recount all this horrific shit because it explains a lot about Jazz as a character. He is a very pleasant person, and is extremely popular—in Target: 2006 a mind-controlled Jazz takes out all the Autobots just because nobody wanted to lay a finger on him!—but he almost never confides emotionally in anyone and has very few close bonds. I believe the loss of his teammate and the way Megadeath twisted the knife gives a lot of insight into why this is—Jazz of course feels the burden of responsibility and works hard to do good, but how could he bear to let people in after all of that? Especially when he blames an expression of pure emotion for all of those traumatic things happening to so many innocent people?

Prowl and Silverbolt

I also want to touch on two of Jazz's dynamics with other characters, ones that are relevant to "The Magnificent Six!"

As can be seen in some of the excerpts above, Prowl is another important character in the story. While many of the most dramatic beats center Jazz, Prowl also gets some of the spotlight. At the end of the story, when the Autobots find the inner strength to face Megadeath again after talking openly about their traumatic past, everyone beats Megadeath nearly to death. However, Prowl finds it within himself to resist a killing blow, because to kill an unarmed opponent is morally wrong. And while this story closes with Jazz's words, it's Prowl who prompts them.

When I say that Jazz has very few close bonds, Prowl is actually one of those few, probably the most significant one. While reading through the comics I did notice that Jazz shows noticeably more concern for and closeness with Prowl than he does with others (see issues #266 and #268) and also gets uncharacteristically angry with and argues with him in issue #42 (though this doesn't shake their ability to work together—which I feel is also notable). That being said, I didn't think anything of this for quite a while. I had also noticed that Prowl seems to really respect Jazz and defer to him, but I also didn't think that was important because like... who wouldn't respect Jazz? But with the additional context of "The Magnificent Six!" I feel as if this is significant due to the shared trauma and their initial reputation.

It's actually very rare to see Jazz be physically close with anybody

This leads me to Silverbolt. Silverbolt is also a significant character in "The Magnificent Six!" because he's the only person sent on the mission who wasn't part of the original team. In fact, he was created on Earth! Because of this, he's the one who pushes hard for the other Autobots to open up about what is keeping them paralyzed with trauma and shame. You can see how he goads Wheeljack and it spurs Jazz into finally seeing that they have to face the truth because it's been eating away at them for millions of years.

Silverbolt's presence is also what causes Prowl to remember Autobot morality and resist the urge to just kill Megadeath.

Silverbolt's perspective on opening up to others is informed by his experiences with his fellow Aerialbots, who are as young as he is. Throughout this continuity, Silverbolt spent a lot of time struggling and causing erratic behavior when combined with his teammates, because he kept trying to hide his fear of heights from everyone. But he remembers in "The Magnificent Six!" that he was met with more support than he'd ever had before once he did face the truth.

Silverbolt is a big proponent of therapy!

"The Magnificent Six!" is what I consider to be the conclusion to a series of comics known as the Earthforce branch of the Marvel UK run, and Jazz, Silverbolt, and Prowl were all members of the Earthforce together, as were the other Autobots on the mission. But I feel Silverbolt being the one to drive the plot forward is particularly significant due to a thematic connection. Previously I mentioned a fight that Jazz and Prowl got into, which happened early in the UK run—Prowl and his supporters called on Optimus Prime to use the Matrix to give life to Autobot super soldiers and just crush the Decepticons in order to prevent more casualties. Jazz and his supporters said that would be immoral and that there was no way they'd have enough fuel for those super soldiers when they barely had enough for themselves.

Optimus was incredibly distraught by this argument but came down firmly on the side of not using the Matrix for such things. ...At least, for a little bit, until he reconsidered after Megatron reemerged. Optimus went back on his original decision and made the Aerialbots. Perhaps Optimus's guilt over using the Matrix in this fashion caused him to be exceedingly harsh toward the young bots multiple times throughout this continuity, seemingly having little faith in their abilities.

I think there's something especially resonant about one of the people who was created as a result of that disagreement being the one who ended up giving them the support they needed to face their own traumatic past.

BFFs share laughter as a coping strategy for dealing with the most painful moments in life!

Conclusion

While I get the sense that this may change, particularly with the new Skybound comics featuring Jazz and showing more of his friendship with Cliffjumper which has its source in the Sunbow cartoon, I don't feel like we've ever had this much of a window into Jazz's past and such a deep look at his personality and relationships. I don't think that any future content needs to be this dark, but I hope that as much attention is given to Jazz in the future! As it is, I think this is some of the most compelling material Jazz ever had.

[zmbiesuga]

I'VE LOVED EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU THAT HURTS

matsukawa issei x m!reader (pronouns aren't mentioned but the intention is still there), established relationship

warnings: angst, really poor body image on mattsuns part including negative mentions of weight, hurt/comfort, cussing, use of pet names (baby, honey, pretty boy), matsukawa is referred to as mattsun and issei, the friends mentioned are not the seijoh four

notes: i projected a bit oops

mattsun had lost track of time. all he knew was that the light illuminating from his laptop hurt his bloodshot eyes, and if the soft sounds from it weren't the only thing keeping him sane, he would slam it shut in a heartbeat.

he doesn't know how he ended up in this position, really. he's not typically a sensitive guy, he's normally nonchalant, laid back. he walks the world like nothing can hurt him.

but then he thinks about what his friends said.

it was playful, at first. little jabs at his personality that he could rebuttal with ease. teasing them about their flaws, adamant on avoiding striking any nerves.

he just wished they would be as careful as him.

what got to him first, was the mention of his eyebrows. how they were too thick, that they didn't match his face.

which then led to the conversation about his jawline, how it was too triangular, too uneven.

and even though those comments hurt, he took them and bit his tongue. for his own sake. just shake it off, he thought, they're just joking stop being such a fucking baby

it was fine, really.

until they started talking about his weight. how he was too skinny, too tall, too boney. how almost nauseating it was that they could see how his ribs poked through his skin.

yeah, that's what got him.

from practice to home was a blur to him, but he remembers how he stormed to his room. how he sat in his own silence for a moment or so, before his body racked with violent sobs.

he cried. he cried until there was no more air in his lungs, until the sobs got caught in his throat. he gripped his hair and broke down for what felt like an eternity.

and even now, hours later, the thought of everything that happened makes him want to start sobbing again.

but he can't. the lump in his throat sticks there, not daring to move.

he really thinks he's fucking pathetic. to let such words get to him, he knows he shouldn't care. he knows they meant no harm. he knows they were just jokes. he knows he's not that bad looking.

right?

well, he guesses there must be some truth to their words if they poked and prodded at it. he guesses there's some truth if he's allowing himself to be this affected by it.

he doesn't hear you softly open the door to his bedroom.

you had grown worried, you tried to contact him over dozens of times within the past few hours, only to be left on delivered.

at first you were mad, you figured he was just ignoring you for makki or something unimportant, but once oikawa had told you that issei had left the gym in a sulk, you had just grown to be worried.

you slowly made your way towards him, the soft blue glow of his laptop being the only source of light in the room.

when you tripped over his sneakers is when he finally noticed you.

slowly, he turned from his laptop to face you. the cacoon of his blanket covering most of him. that's when you finally got a good look at his face.

his eyes were bloodshot, and his tears from earlier left stains of trails down his cheeks. the dried snot under his nose, his tussled hair and cracked lips showing his distress.

god, you swear, even like this he looks so beautiful.

"issei, baby, what's wrong?" you question, crouching down next to his bed. you reach your hand out, lightly stroking his face.

tears slowly begin to fall from his eyes again. you wipe them away gently with his thumbs.

the gesture alone sends him into another fit of sobs, you wrap your arms around him, rubbing circles on his back as you let him weep into the crook of your neck.

"i can't fucking . . . i'm so pathetic i'm sorry . . ." he blubbers, god he can't believe himself right now.

"nonono baby you aren't pathetic, you're allowed to cry. you're allowed to be upset," you reassure him, "take your time. i'm not going anywhere."

you two stay like that for a few minutes, issei composes himself the best to his ability, before sitting up and letting what happened fall from his lips in a hurry.

your face contorts in anger as he continues, not with him, of course. you couldn't believe what he was saying, what kind of friends were these people?

once he finished, you allowed yourself to speak.

"issei," you began, "what they said about you was absolutely ridiculous."

at first he's taken aback by your words, but then you continue,

"you are one of the most gorgeous boys i have ever laid my eyes on," you said, "your eyebrows aren't too thick, they fit your face perfectly. your jawline is perfect too, and even if it is asymmetrical, most peoples are. it's not uncommon and it certainly does not make you ugly."

you take a deep breath, cupping his hands in yours. giving him a reassuring squeeze before picking up again once more,

"and as for your weight," you began, "i just . . . the fact that they even felt the need to comment on that disgusts me. there is nothing wrong with your weight, as long as you are healthy that's all that matters. whether you be on the bigger or smaller side, as long as you are healthy that's all that should matter. ever. don't listen to the utter bullshit they spew because it's not true. you're a beautiful boy, you're my beautiful boy."

he starts crying again, but this time out of a warm feeling bursting in his chest. he pulls you in for a tight embrace, and you squeeze him just as hard.

"i love you so much." are the only words he's able to mutter before he falls asleep on your shoulders.

you then softly close the lid to his laptop, crawling under the covers with him and placing a kiss on his forehead.

sleep well, pretty boy. is all you can think before drifting off yourself

a/n: i just want to remind you guys that you are beautiful no matter what and you deserve good things. likes, reblogs & comments are appreciated!

[rosexhart]

Waiting For Sunset

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Gekko x Reader

• Accidentally running into the agents of Omega Earth, you are taken hostage. Hostages aren’t common for them, but you seem to be the exception. So much for your first time in L.A.

Word Count: 1.4K

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

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The day was already beginning to warm up. I was visiting L.A. to see if I would like the colleges here rather than back home. A lot of them having very interesting programs so it was time to see them in person. I took the trip alone despite the protest of those around me. The whole First Light event made everyone anxious still. It didn’t bother me though.

I walked around three colleges, all of them huge, and all of them way more than I could ever dream of. It was going to be tough picking between them. I sat down outside of a boba shop and sighed out. It was then that I noticed it. One of the places of the radianite explosions occurred. Parts of the building affected, free floating in the air, which meant the crater was also nearby. I decided it might be worth trying to go see it. Even if I got caught I could feign ignorance. I stood up and started towards the building. The sun was beginning to set in the distance, not quite yet providing that golden hue. It was a bit of a maze getting closer to the building. Only able to use it as a landmark to guide myself. Finally I spotted a taco stand, long abandoned, and smiled to myself. What I wasn’t expecting were five people standing in a small grass circle right near by it. I ducked down, hoping to not be noticed. They whispered among themselves. They seemed strange, like they weren’t meant to be here. I stayed hidden as one of them disappeared in a haze of purple smoke right before my eyes. I glanced around looking for them only to have a hand grasp my arm tightly.

A slight yelp escaped me, as they pulled me to a stand and threw me almost effortlessly forward towards the other four.

“A spy,” The voice was low, and toned in a way that unsettled me. Chills racing down my spine.

“I doubt she was sent by them. She doesn’t even seem Radiant.” One said kneeling in front of me. She had long dark black hair that was tied up into a pony tail.

“We can’t risk it regardless.” Another woman with white hair tied up in a short pony tail.

“Agreed. Tie her up, we can deal with her after we detonate the spike.” The long haired woman stated as she stood to her full height.

“Hey, wait! Look I’ll leave I was just trying to see the area.” I argued but the five didn’t seem to care. A woman with red hair pushed you down and held you while a lady with slicked back black and pink hair, zip tied my hands. They sat me back up and took a triangular looking object away with them as they went down a path on the left. Leaving me sitting in the grassy circle they previously occupied.

Gunshots rang out from the direction they went. Some were in more rapid bursts, others slow, calculated and loud. After a while, everything became quiet again. Then the same man who had disappeared into purple smoke came running towards me. A large gun in one hand, the triangular device hanging from their hip. They came over to me. Picking me up roughly. Their shoulder oozing a bit of blood as they did.

“Change of plans. You’re collateral now.” Their voice said and I stumbled forwards towards the right instead of the left like they did before. He pushed at me, making me go forwards as I rounded past a phone box, and up a slight gravel incline.

“Listen, there’s got to be a better way of doing-“ I started but was quickly cut off.

“Quiet.” They said as we rounded a corner by a box. A gun shot rang and the person pulled me flush against their body like a human shield.

“Hold fire!” Someone called out from the crates far in front of us.

“You shoot at me again and I’ll make sure you shoot them instead.” The voice garbled out. There was silence as we continued onto a hard metal surface. The figure shoved me behind a technician box and then took the triangular device and started fiddling with it. I couldn’t just sit here. I swiftly kicked at the device and watched as it spun out their hands. I smirked at my achievement as I heard footsteps behind me. The person disappeared in a haze of purple smoke and I backed up quickly, trying to prop myself up using the box. Gunshots rang out and I held my place behind the box for a minute as the voice I had come to know cried out. Then a rush of footsteps.

“Are you alright?” The same woman with long black hair came from around the box. I backed up.

“Get away from me,” I said moving backwards best I could as a small creature came running at me. It was yellow and tilted its head at me.

“No, no, we are the good guys.” I looked up to see a man with neon green hair, holding a small blue creature with some type of shell on its back. The small yellow creature garbled out something.

“Hey, dude come on. It’s not their fault.” The man said as he picked up the creature.

“Who are you people?” I questioned and the black haired woman took a breath and came closer. Cutting the ties at my wrist with a knife.

“We are Valorant.” She said helping me to stand.

“And you were not suppose to be here.” The same voice from before said coming around the box next to the neon haired man.

“What the hell,” I growled out

“Hey, it’s a lot to take in. Sage, we should take her back.” The neon green haired man said.

“I agree. She has seen too much.” The woman with the black hair said. I suppose she was Sage.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I started but I didn’t get much of a say as a neon blue haired girl rounded a corner.

“Can we go? I’m tired of just sitting around here.” She stretched out her shoulder.

“We have a situation.” Sage said

“Relájate chica,” The green haired male said to her.

“You relax after having to run through fire to get their Skye out.” The blue haired girl said

“Enough,” The purple smoke person said.

“We are probably confusing her more.” Sage said, helping me to stand.

“Do you want me to handle her?” The smoke person said as he came closer.

“Probably for the best. We will meet you back on the helicopter.” Sage said and the person grabbed my arm roughly just like the other.

“Hey hands off!” I cried out before I felt the world disappear around me. There was a haze of purple smoke, and I felt like I was weightless. As if I was in my dream like I was falling from some great height. When it came to an end we were on a helicopter bigger than I had ever seen. The person sat me down and strapped me down in a chair.

“Get off! I’m not going anywhere this is kidnapping!” I yelled and tried to keep them from continuing. They held my wrist tightly and came close to my face. Three slits of light stared back at me.

“It’s not kidnapping if you were breaking the laws.” They said and my blood cooled. I was strapped in and I suppose they were on some type of locking mechanism because I couldn’t release them. Soon enough the others came aboard. Sage, the neon haired male, the blue haired female, then someone I hadn’t seen yet. Another male with jet black hair, and a blue jacket.

“Yo, Yoru, you got lucky. I was one away from beating you.” The green haired male mentioned to the guy in the blue jacket.

“You can never beat me Gekko. I always am on top.” The male- Yoru, said.

“God you guys are insufferable.” The blue haired female said.

“Where are you taking me?” I questioned and they all looked at me.

“Who the hell is this?” Yoru questioned looking around at all the different people.

“Uh.. I don’t think we ever actually got a name.” The neon haired male said.

“(Y/N),” I stated pulling at the belts again.

“(Y/N), welcome to Valorant.” Sage said before the helicopter took off. They placed a headset on my head but silenced it. They all took turns talking but I couldn’t hear much of anything beyond the drone of the helicopter. I sat back. Realizing there was nothing I could do. So much for those colleges.