#when the characters are in a setting that is very bilingual

[syltaxerror]

Ok so like, if you’re trying to write characters who are speaking in a different language then what you are writing-

I BEG I even PLEAD that you don’t make them constantly switch between the two languages.

Because it’s so jarring to be watching/reading something THAT OBVIOUSLY takes place in France WHERE IT CAN BE EASILY ASSUMED everyone is speaking French, and then just being punched in the face with “oui”

LIKE WHY WOULD YOU SWITCH RANDOMLY LIKE THAT. We know the characters are speaking French, THEYRE IN FRANCE!!

Doing a random switch just makes it seem like someone with really bad French trying to sneak as many phrases in as possible to seem impressive

Which if that’s what you’re going for, it’s a good way of communicating a character who is trying desperately to be impressive

[tteokdoroki]

THE PERFECT SHADE OF PURPLE - suguru geto.

✩ — about. “i buy her gifts like i would for my sister and she likes them. we recently fucked at her place of work, i know it’s wrong but i just can’t stop.” suguru geto never thought he’d end up here. in a new city with a new job and a new life. he never wanted to lose his little sister to his best friend. he never wanted to replace her. never wanted to fuck someone who looked exactly like her. but here you are, and geto can’t help but want you the same way he wants her. he just had to get that off his chest… ( 11.4K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! dark content, nsfw, smut, hurt-comfot, open ending - video banner ! AITA-verse!au (read part one here !), bakery!au, italics mean the characters are speaking in japanse, situationships, co-dependency ( on suguru geto ), manipulation, gaslighting, praise, use of oni-chan/nii chan/imouto, fingering (f!receiving), public sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), overstimulation, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, creampies, bilingual!geto, japanese speaking + fem!reader.

✩ — things to note. hehe hi everyone!!! pls im reposting this again :( it was written as a gift for @todorosie and the very idea spawned from her love for geto in my AITA gojo fic !! it’s sort of a continuation and set in the same universe so you might need to read to understand the plot. special thanks to @antizenin for beta reading n helping me come up with some ideas !! enjoy guys, mwah mwah - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

look, i know it’s bad… but my adopted sister and i were always close. she looked up to me and needed me for everything, up until a month ago when she betrayed my trust and fucked my childhood best friend.  i got a therapist, went low contact and moved to a completely different country in order to avoid w everything. but nothing helped, i think of my sister every day and sometimes… i picture bad, dirty things. recently i met this girl, she’s the spitting image of my adoptive little sister. they look the same, act the same — i think i’ve started falling for her. i buy her gifts like i would for my sister and she likes them. we recently fucked at her place of work, i know it’s wrong but i just can’t stop. 

TLDR: i’m fucking and have feelings for a girl that’s a carbon copy of my adopted younger sibling.

the city of new york is meant to be the city of dreams.

at any given moment, your fate can change. anything can happen here, you can make it big and live out your life or you can go home and lead one of regret. suguru geto feels like neither are true for him. the bustling city and flashing lights, busy concrete streets and honking taxis bring the dark haired  man anything but joy. suguru isn’t happy here, in new york, despite all the wonders that it holds — irregardless of the grand job opportunity he has waiting for him just around the corner. 

suguru geto had the chance of a lifetime to develop his career as a criminal defence lawyer in one of the most opportune cities in the world. his dream since he was old enough to understand the wrongs of the world. 

but that’s merely not enough to keep him content, to make him want to stay. 

he doesn’t want to go home either, he’s sure he would hate himself for thattoo. it would be a waste of suguru’s talents to return to japan prematurely, with its nauseating air and sense of betrayal that follows him everywhere he goes. home is supposed to be where one is happiest and safest — it’s where his family is, where he was raised and first opened his eyes. but for the lawyer, japan no longer serves to comfort him and only constantly reminds the man of his little sister, who’d fucked his best friend just a month prior. 

that very instance was enough reason for him to leave the country in the first place — he had to get out, had to escape the very fact that haunted him day and night. 

like any other adult with a shit load of trauma, suguru invests in the best therapist his money can buy — especially now that he can’t spoil is younger sister with it. the older woman with her stuffy office, beady eyes and chipped painted nails had prescribed the man with a short break, a change of pace from the life he was used to, to give himself the grace and time to heal from the heartbreak of losing the two most important people in his life. his best friend, satoru gojo, and his adoptive little sister. 

he had no idea where gojo was now, thirty days later, and suguru knew his little sister had probably moved out of their hometown by now to kick start her career. so even if all of that meant that suguru geto could go home…he wouldn’t. he would use the vastness of new york to give himself the breathing room he needed to heal, fill his bloodstream with fresh oxygen so that it would clot and cover up his fresh wounds of betrayal, turn scabs into scars and let him slowly recover.

at least that’s what his therapist had told him to do — in the suffocating purple walls of her office. 

yet, so far, suguru’s escape to new york hadn’t exactly gone according to plan. every corner of the city painfully reminds him of the hole in his heart, where his innocent little sister should be. after her graduation he’d planned on taking her here as a reward for all of her hard work, but now, suguru faces his own bitter reality — every landmark has her face etched into its side, skyscrapers and their glass windows refract the light of her smile, while famous dinner spots tie to the endless list of reservations she’d reminded suguru to make. hell, even his daily routine of hailing infamous yellow taxi cabs reminds him of her precious excitement to go. 

new york was a city big enough for both geto siblings, but too large for just the one. 

it’s a wonder that suguru has been able to live without his sister for this long — it’s only been a month but he’s spent his entire life looking out for her. protecting her. he hardly knows what to do with himself now that he has all this extra time. 

suguru knew that she was way too dependent on him, it was bad — he was painfully aware of that. but he couldn’t help it, she needed someone to protect her and nurture her, she needed someone to teach her about the dangers of the world. she needed her big brother. perhaps if the dark haired man had been less protective of his sister and given her some sort of independence… then maybe he wouldn’t miss her so much, he wouldn’t have lost his best friend as collateral damage in the process. he would still have the two of them, and she could be happy with gojo. 

the guilt of what ifs and what could have beens tirelessly weigh down suguru’s heart at the thought — he caused this. this rift between the soul-bonded pair. if he had raised her better, let her spread her wings like a free bird, then he would still have her in his life. 

at this point, he’s realised something dire. suguru can’t live without her, his little sister. her bright eyes in the morning and the sweet tune to her voice when she calls out for him — it’s weird, it’s bad…how much he misses and needs her. borderlining on strange, it’s only now that suguru realises how unhealthy their dynamic as siblings had been. how reliant he was on his baby sister to need him. it should have never been that way, he shouldn’t need her so desperately to function. keeping her under such a close watch was probably what drove her into the arms of satoru in the first place. 

the concrete wilderness of suguru’s new home provides no relief from these epiphanies and the chambers of his heart that slowly seem to be dying without his sister. instead he feels trapped in his own addiction, as if he’s going through the withdrawal after dependency on drugs. 

whenever suguru feels immense waves of guilt, like a tsunami that might pull him under and replace the clean air in his lungs with the murky water of his own sour thoughts and emotions; whenever he misses home a little too much; whenever he feels like the world his crashing down on him once more — his therapist and her purple nails tapping against her clip board comes to mind. she tells suguru to take a walk, especially when he’s overcome with thoughts of the situation back in december. when his chest feels too tight and feels like picking up the phone and calling his sister before he’s ready to. 

so geto does just that, lugging on his winter coat as he prepares to take a walk downtown while the sun sets.

suguru tends to think that his therapist is full of shit. 

she believes in the colour purple, she believes that there is purpose and meaning in concepts like colours that are based on fact and science. the light reflects, and people see colour. 

as she had explained to the man in an hour long session just two weeks ago, purple is supposed to be the colour of healing; though to suguru, purple makes him feel sick. it’s everywhere, in the lavander-ish off-white walls of his new york-rented apartment, the flowers in the stalls on his way to work, the skies at night. suguru thought he was a rational man, that he was calm and collected — able to see the reasons behind everything he comes across…but he still doesn’t understand the significance of colours like purple and its connection to healing. 

all suguru knows is that he did like the pretty hollow shade that formed a ring around satoru’s bright blue eyes. of course, after having the shit beaten out of him for touching what belonged to suguru. for corrupting his innocent baby sister. 

aside from that, tonight’s walk is mostly uneventful, full of couples getting ready for date night and business people heading home to their happy families for the night. suguru despises them, strangers on the street minding their own business. he hates these passer-bys for their happiness, a joy he can no longer experience. going home. it leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. 

he misses his family. the warmth and love from his mother, the poor jokes from his father… the looks of adoration and hugs from his sister. it’s not fair. he shouldn’t have had to give that up because of the selfish actions of his ex-best friend. 

suguru decides to turn back and head for his apartment when the street lamps start to flicker and turn on. 

however, on his commute, a familiar scent tickles his senses and brushes over his nose. the man finds himself following, enchanted by rich flavours that he recognises from his youth — sweet red bean and spicy curries overlay the city’s natural smells and suguru makes an attempt to track it down. like a fool, he sprints after the scent like a hound dog tracking a hunt and stops a few strides short of a quaint japanese bakery with a set of deep indigo flowers climbing up it’s worn down exterior. 

suguru recognises the flowers to be shobu. irises. 

standing before the sliding doors, geto inhales, overwhelmed and overcome with emotion. the sweet smell triggers memories of home and how his parents would take him and his sister out to get treats when they were small. how that became a tradition for the geto siblings when they were old enough to go out on their own. 

he remembers how his sister would beg him for a box of sakura mochi every time they went, and how he would so easily relent — even if it meant spending all of that week’s pocket money. suguru is so carried away with his thoughts that he hardly notices himself taking steps into the bakery, or lining up at the counter, or you.

calling him up to the counter. 

you’re a pretty girl. that’s the first thing suguru notices. your eyes are beautiful, a deep brown that reminds him of roasted chestnuts and warm chocolates, your face is round with a soft edge of youth. the uniform that you wear hugs every dip and curve of your body and the braids you have are lengthy and black, perfectly framing your face. when you speak, your voice carries gentle dulcet notes that make suguru’s heart flutter — like music to his ears. 

you are one thousand percent suguru geto’s type and everything about you, this little bakery attendant, reminds suguru of his younger sister. 

right then and there, everything clicks into place for him. 

“sir, can i get you anything?” you ask him kindly, not wanting to push or scare away a potential customer. nor pressure the handsome stranger, since he’s holding up your line. “sir?” you repeat, finally garnering his attention after squirming under his intense stare. 

not that you mind being stared at by him, for this particular customer is right up your alley. 

from his milky skin, desperate to be marked, to his lengthy dark tresses that you’re dying to pull at and tug. his jaw is angular, sharp enough to the point where you fear you would cut yourself should you have the chance to touch it. despite the razor edges to his features, he looks kind…almost wistful, at most. a quality that does nothing to calm the hungry flame catching light in your lower tummy.

the two of you remain admiring one another until a customer in the queue clears their throat impatiently — causing both of you to jump. 

“s-sorry,” geto mumbles the apology quickly, his pale cheeks tinged with a subtle pink despite how hot they feel. he’s suddenly become all too aware of the line that he’s holding up. one that he’s not even supposed to be in, since he’d walked in here on instinct anyway. his dark, narrow eyes sweep the counter in search for something, anything to order so that he doesn’t look like a complete idiot in front of you or the rest of the customers. 

more specifically, yourself. 

“i would recommend the sakura mochi,” then, like an angel sent from the heavens, you try your luck in conversing with suguru in japanese. his nervous and skittish gaze shoots up to your face, shoulders sagging in relief and familiarity. you truly are like a piece of home. like his little sister. suguru likes that more than a normal man should. “they’re popular amongst our customers, it’s taken our owner years to perfect her recipe with the ingredients here. especially since leaving japan.” 

suguru grins and nods, spotting the dessert he’s so accustomed to buying in the display cabinet. his heart lurches, yearning for his little sister. “these?” he whispers to you, the syllables of his native language curling around his tongue naturally. “they look just like the ones from home.”

there’s a sparkle in your eyes when he responds, and you continue to speak to him in sugary tones. “they taste just as goodtoo, i promise!”

“then, i’ll take a box.” 

“how many? they come in boxes of four, eight and sixteen pieces.”

“just the four, please.” 

taking your tongs from the metal counter behind the cabinet, you fish out four of the best pieces of sakura mochi and tentatively place them into a pre-folded cardboard box for the handsome customer. as he dives deep into his pocket for his card to pay, you quickly add an extra piece — uttering something about it being on the house under your breath. 

the action leaves both of you bashful and suguru taps his card on the machine you’ve set up for him to pay. “ah, thank you…” suguru searches for your name in the candy scented air and you tap your badge with a cute acrylic nail to draw attention to your name which he breathes out in a husky tone, failing to mask its curious lilt as he returns to english.

“no worries, have a good evening, sir.” you giggle shyly, still managing to bid him farewell. 

on his way home, suguru can’t help but to replay the entire interaction in his head over and over again. in his brief three minutes of meeting you, you’d managed to fix the hole in his heart, help it beat properly again. you’re just like her, his little sister, and that is a dangerous fact. 

he reaches his apartment with a flushed face, feeling a little flustered, but a lot better than he was before the start of his walk. 

after work, a few days later, geto finds himself back in front of the bakery, working up the courage to go inside and see you.  

no matter how hard he tried and how much of his work he tried to throw himself into — suguru couldn’t get the vision of you out his head. your saccharine laugh haunted him as he reviewed case files, your timid smile chased him through his lunch break and your small act of kindness (speaking with him in Japanese) has him all worked up and blushing by the time he’s able to clock out for the day. 

the dark haired  man feels insane, he knows that this is weird — projecting the image of his adoptive sister onto you, but like a man on drugs he can’t seem to quit. he needs to get his fix. he needs to see you again. entering the bakery once again is like stepping into a new domain, and suguru damn near forgets his simple plan to talk to you. order sakura mochi, say thank you, and leave. while he waits in the queue, his courage mounts in slow stacks and anxiety fades, but by the time he’s up front and face to face with you again — suguru’s brain is completely wiped of every word he was going to say. 

“ah, it’s you again!” you greet him in japanese once more, instinctively reaching to brush your braids out of your face in order to look more presentable to the handsome stranger who’s been plaguing your thoughts as well. suguru thinks you’re cute, regardless of the rice flour smeared across your cheeks and the various mysterious (though surely tasty) stains that decorate your uniform. he even finds it endearing, the way that you share the same nervous gesture of playing with the ends of your braids like his little sister. “i was just wondering when you were going to come in from the… mmm, cold? you’ve been standing and… uh! staring from out there for a while.” you continue to tease the man warmly in his native tongue, choosing your words carefully and avoiding eye contact with him while you prep the tongs for his order. “what can i get for you today?”

so much for not humiliating himself in front of the pretty girl. “i’m sorry… i’ll just take some sakura mochi again,” suguru begins, this time in english to spare you the trouble of overthinking everything that you say. “i was trying to figure out how to do this,” he places a wad of cash on the counter while you prepare his order. your chocolatey eyes blow wide, sweet glazed lips parting softly at the mere sight. you’re sure there’s enough money in the stack to cover an entire week’s worth of your wages and if a stranger can just give away such a large amount… it makes you wonder what he’s even doing at a humble place like this. “it’s a tip from last time. i never got to thank you.” 

“oh… i was just doing my job!” you stammer out politely and prepare to reject the tip, but suguru refuses to let you refuse his gift — forcefully pushing the ‘tip’ over the edge of the glass. he really couldn’t help but to give the money to you, hardly fighting the urge to spoil you with cash like he would with his little sister. besides, the man earned more than enough to drop it on you without putting a dent in his pocket. 

“you did more than that… just the simple act of kindness in conversing with me, a stranger, in japanese. that was nice of you.” suguru counters. “thank you. how did you know?” 

you work on preparing a thin and white cardboard box for his order before walking along the dessert counter, followed by you. “i had a feeling, a lot of people come in here when they’re missing something,” he frowns and your eyes finally meet his. “someone.” you breathe out, quietly. “i took a guess, figured you might have been from japan.” 

“well, you were correct…” 

your heart skips a beat at the sound of your name on his tongue as he says it. it’s so gentle it makes you feel faint and you’re absolutely charmed by a man you hardly know. “does that earn me brownie points…?” you trail off, wanting to capture his name. 

“suguru.” 

“ah, suguru meaning…” giving the man a once over, you drink in his tall frame and dark eyes, the small quirk to his plush lips as he smiles at you… and think. he’s the perfect man in every way, soft spoken and clement, even if he did have flaws or a dark secret — you would definitely choose to ignore it in favour of spending more time with him. once you find the word you’re looking for (and snap out of staring at the poor guy) you speak again. “excellence…it suits you.” 

geto chuckles quietly in response, amused by your take away.  “your name suits you too, darling. it’s just as beautiful as you.” 

when you giggle and grow shy at his compliment — the honeyed melody only serves to remind suguru of his little sister once more. in that moment, he feels something bad and almost wretched stir in his gut just from watching you turn bashful over him. a dark thought in the back of his kind tells him to keep you, so that he can see you like this more often. it urges him to make you need him. like he would have with his little sister. 

he’s starting to project, he’s sure, but you make it easy for him, with your puppy dog eyes and tiny little smiles. once geto’s order is packed, four little squares of sakura mochi wrapped in emerald green and brined sakura leaf — smelling of spring and red bean, he pays (with a hefty tip) and inspects the box. “you’ve got to stop giving me things for free, darling. we’ve only just met.” he chides fondly, scolding you like a child as if to make sure you won’t get in trouble with your job. he’s counted five mochi instead of four — just like last time. “won’t this hurt business?” he coos down at you — sending your body into a fit of shivers despite the warmth of your uniform. 

“well, i’d consider us friends now that you’ve come specifically to see me. friends can’t give each other gifts?” you quip cheekily — much like suguru’s sister would. “you got to spoil me today, no one is going to notice an extra piece of mochi going missing.” 

“friends it is,” surugu purrs right back in satisfaction, preparing to take his leave. cautiously, as though not to spook you like a hunter after a deer in the woods — he reaches over the counter to pat your head affectionately, internally pleased with the way you keen into his touch. “i hope to see my new friend around more often, then.” he hums with pride, and you nod your head eagerly. 

like a puppy. like you want to please him. 

it reminds geto all too much of his little sister — who only ever wanted to make the dark haired man proud. 

over the coming weeks, suguru finds himself at the bakery more often than not. as though it’s a part of his daily routine. 

he’ll take his walk after work, stop by and purchase some sakura mochi, before leaving you with another little gift. at first, his gifts started out as wads of cash in place of tips, then slowly turned to more materialistic things, items that you could hood or wear as if they were to geto’s his claim on you. like flowers, jewellery or clothes. things you couldn’t afford on your own, things he’d like to see you in, things his little sister would like to receive if they were still in contact with one another. 

suguru knows that you can’t afford these things because you’ve let it slip over coffee and mochi that you rent the apartment above the bakery from the old woman who owns it and can barely afford the new york rent as well. he also learns that you were hired because of your ability to speak, read and write in Japanese. 

as much as suguru has spoiled you in the last few weeks, you won’t let him pay your rent though, so tips have sufficed for now. 

nowadays, the time spent moping around his apartment while mourning the relationships that he lost are spent growing increasingly obsessive over you. hours upon hours are wasted on thoughts of what gift he might buy you next — like more comfortable work shoes, an umbrella to get you home safe during the rain that just so happens to be designer. suguru spoils you under the guise of just being your friend — at least that’s what it is to you. 

to him, he’s spoiling his baby sister. someone who is feeble and needs his help and his protection. he doesn’t tell his therapist any of this, of course, she would deem it unhealthy to see how much of his money and time he’s blown in a little cafe worker.  

a cafe worker who’s important to suguru, who haunts his dreams with her perfect curves, and pouty lips whenever he brings you a small gift of his affections. “sugu,” you’ve resorted to calling him, just like his sister would. the nickname was the result of a time where you’d written his name on a coffee order, and customers complained you were taking too long. so geto had told you that you could call him ‘sugu’ instead. however, he would omit details on how badly it affected his brain chemistry …to hear someone he cared for call him that again. “you don’t have to get me an expensive gift just because i make you coffee and get you sweet treats.” 

“it’s not just because you get me sweet things or make me coffee,” he had responded, leaning over the counter flirtatiously. “it’s because you do such a good job. you take care of me and my order every evening. make sure i get the best of the best. how could i not thank my sweet little barista.” 

you wouldn’t say it, but he knew you liked the praise. he wondered if you felt as dirty and as thrilled as him during these little exchanges between the two of you. on that specific occasion, geto decided to gift you with a pendant, similar to the one he’d gotten his sister — only this time, a purple amethyst sits in its centre rather than the blue gem all too familiar to satoru gojo’s piercing eyes.

maybe this is what his therapist meant by healing. suguru is healing by getting over his sister and replacing her with you. 

you are the one that haunts his dreams now, makes his cock stir inappropriately. another thing that suguru woulda never tell his therapist — is that sometimes when he really needed it, he would think of his little sister while fisting his cock into the night air. they weren’t really related, only by adoption so it wasn’t too wrong. sometimes he’d think of her getting railed by satoru, but nowadays he would think of you on his cock instead, calling out for suguru like you need him to function. 

‘nii-san!’ - this and ‘please sugu! ’- that, each word uttered in his sister’s voice would quickly morph into yours — the quivering sweet sound always resembling his little sister’s when she cried. suguru, the dark haired  man, imagined you would react the same. and more often than not, it was your face that he pictured when he was about to cum. 

every single gift suguru got for you were the result of him dreaming about how much he needed you, someone to spoil and protect. someone to need him. 

tonight, suguru is a little late for his daily visit to your bakery. 

tonight, an important case at his firm had rolled in at the last minute and required attention before a preliminary hearing — but even his job couldn’t keep suguru geto away from you. when he arrives at the bakery, you’re still there, having left the doors unlocked for him to come inside. 

tonight, there is no long line of customers out the door to build up the anticipation between you both, the lights have already been deemed and there’s not a trace of life inside of the bakery. aside from yourself, of course.

tonight, you’re on the closing shift instead of the owner’s grandson, choso. who you reassured suguru you weren’t interested in the first time they’d met. with gentle eyes that masked the dark haired  man’s fury, geto had told you that he was the only man you’d ever need and you believed him — suguru had a charm for making people dependent on him. 

the tiny silver bell stationed at the door jingles and signals geto’s arrival, but you hardly look up from your work — keeping your back to him while you sweep at nothing. you’re hiding the excitement that prickles down your spine, you’ve been waiting to get the man alone for weeks and now that you’re able to… you can hardly contain yourself. 

“excuse me, uh…” he says your name so sweetly, as though the words on his tongue are laced with honey. pretending not to know you only makes tonight more thrilling. “are you open? do you have any sakura mochi to spare?” it’s only then that you whirl around to face suguru, your deep brown eyes still bright despite the dimness of the empty bakery — they sparkle with elation, and the plump curve of your lips spike up into an easy smile. you’ve been waiting, suguru notes, like a good little girl.

like a puppy waiting for her owner. 

you’ve been waiting to see him. 

anticipation claws at the air, sending ripples of kinetic energy into the space between you both — where suguru waits at the door and you stand front and centre in the middle of the room. his murky eyes slink down to your neck where one hand fiddles with the silver chain of your pendant, your nails tapping at the amethyst in its centre. in the same way his sister does when she’s nervous. 

neither of you know what’s going to happen tonight, now that you’re finally alone. 

“we have some in the back,” you swallow down the heartbeat in your throat you nod shyly when you finally speak. it’s weird how your body has started to react to suguru after weeks of getting to know him, being spoiled by him. the clothes you wear are now covered in traces of him, the jewellery you own is paid for by his dime. this…stranger, who you hardly know yet feel like you know everything about, has invaded every inch of your life… and you’re not even mad about it. you’d rather die than let this go. “i just need to lock up first. if you’ll give me a moment.”

you approach him cautiously, practically pressing your breasts against his chest as you reach behind the man to lock the doors he stands in front of. suguru can already tell that the mood today is different — full of hunger and expectations for something less polite than evening chatter and gift exchanges. his dark eyes follow your every move across the bakery like a wolf tracking the scent of prey. 

“why don’t you come with me to the back? and if you don’t mind, could you carry a bag or two of that rice flour? it’s too heavy for me on my own?” you ask him after backing away with a glint in your eye. naughty, naughty. geto likes the fact that you’re asking him, that you need him and he can be your strong suguru. 

“sure, anything for you.” he agrees a little bit too quickly, removing his work jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. suguru discards his tie as well — before lifting a sack of rice flower with ease. he pretends not to notice the way you ogle the bulge in his biceps as he does so.

“thanks.” you utter, leading the way to the back of the bakery. 

once the two of you arrive in the kitchens at the back, you give suguru some time to set down the sacks of flour and retreat to the many shelves of sweet treats and baked goods that you’d prepared for your shift the next day. you’re sure choso, nor his grandmother, would mind if you stole a plate of mochi for the two of you to share. they trusted you enough, but you decide to forgo telling them for now. 

“i was starting to think you weren’t coming.” you say as you set the desserts out on the metal table for him, suguru hates the guilt that he feels for leaving you for so long. “seeing you is the highlight of my week.” 

“are you sure it’s not the gifts that i give you?” he teases, rounding the table to take a piece of mochi from the plate at its middle. he practically moans at the flavours of cherry blossom and crystallised sugar bursting across the palette of his tongue. and for a moment, his mind slips to other territories — wandering what you’d taste like as well. 

“n-no! sugu!” for the first time that night, you break character, bashfully tucking your pretty face into your shoulder as if to hide it. “i, um… i genuinely like seeing you and when you come to see me. i-it makes me feel better. being around you. i feel safer and happier.” 

putting his weight onto the metal surface, suguru leans forward and cocks his head to the side in faux curiosity. your answer is just what he wanted to hear. he finally has you where he wants you,  like a sweet deer in a hunter’s trap. “is that so, darling?” you shake your head yes in affirmation. “well then, you’re awfully sweet.” geto takes to praising you, licking the traces of candy from his lips and maintaining eye contact while his hand dips into the pocket of his slacks for something. “i have a gift for you, little one.” 

“oh yeah?” youtoo, take a bite out of the treats you’ve laid out, munching on them casually while keeping suguru under your watchful eye.

it’s only then that pulls out a matching item of jewellery, this time, a matching anklet to the item that sits heavy at your neck. the silver chain is dotted with tinier, purple gems. a showcase of suguru’s appreciation for how much you’ve healed him — a nod to how much better he feels around you too. 

“you sure do love purple for me, sugu.” you joke, laughing incredulously at the expensive gift. “it’s beautiful, thank you.” you let him circle the table to take hold of your soft hips, lifting you onto the cool surface so that geto has some leverage to put the anklet on you. 

after kicking out your left foot — suguru sinks to his knees before you, and something about the way he looks up at you, with his eyebrows drawn to the centre of his forehead and his milky cheeks slightly flushed, has your heart racing and your head all dizzy. “purple is supposed to mean healing. i’ve had a tough time, being away from japan and my family…” he begins quietly, his voice is calming with lilts and drops of hunger that slips through the cracks of suguru’s caring resolve. “but you’ve made it better,” one of his large hands encircles your ankle, lifting your foot higher so that geto is easily able to remove the strap of your mary-jane shoe and replace it with the chains of your new anklet. “ah… a perfect fit.” he announces in japanese, fixing the clasp. 

the whole ordeal is intimate, inviting and you feel like you might slip under the surface of dark, dangerous waters if you’re not careful. you don’t know how to swim, but something tells you that suguru will keep you afloat. “anyways, little one…” suguru continues with his monologue, whispering his words against your talus bone at the base of your leg, where it meets your foot. “you wanting me here and needing me… it heals me.” 

once he’s checked that the anklet is secure, suguru reaches a hand upwards, and brushes a thumb over the swell of your glossy bottom lip to swipe away a smudge of powdered sugar from the mocha. you will yourself to speak, but you feel as though you can’t even breathe. “i’ve…healed you?” 

suguru stands up, towering over you now as he moves to suck the sugar from your lips off of his thumb. “of course, little one. what else do you think you’ve been doing this whole time?” his pupils dilate, obsidian black drowning out any other colour in his eyes while closes the gap between your heated bodies. your thighs instinctively jump apart to make room for him too, allowing him to loom over you even better — following the biological call of your hearts.

the world comes to a standstill when suguru’s lips finally meet yours in a sloppy yet coordinated kiss. while his movements are messy and hungry he remains gentle with you, as though you might break from too much force. the sweltering heat of his tongue swipes eagerly but not aggressively over the seam of your mouth, dying to be let in and taste the sugar that glazes your own pink muscle. his large, unusually soft hands grasp, and squeeze and pinch at your thighs, then the fat at your hips until his thumbs are tucked under your breasts, soothing circles over the point at which the fleshy mounds join up with your rib cage. 

goosebumps break out across your skin from underneath your clothes and you feed suguru a needy little squeak when he finally breaks into your mouth, his tongue lapping circles at every crevice. you sound just like her, his angelic little sister, and he treats you so gently because he would never want to hurt her. suguru has always wanted to kiss his sister, but you’ll have to do. he likes you just as much as her. 

it’s that sick and twisted desire to devour his younger sibling that fuels his next movements, along with the dulcet and darling sounds you make for him. carefully and between sticky lip locks, suguru pushes you onto your back — humming in amusement when it arches away from the cool metal of the silver counter. “s-sugu,” you whimper wetly, catching your breath while his smooches cascade down to your neck and his fingers work their way through the buttons on your uniform. your own take residence in his firm and broad set shoulders, as if to steady yourself. “i haven’t… i don’t have much experience with these things a-and they’ve not been the best—“

the dark haired  man chuckles softly, the sound sending a spark of lust down your spine and causing you to arch up into him as he cages you against the table. “i’ll be gentle,” he tells you firmly, in a tone that smooths over the doubts in your mind and helps you to relax. suguru will take care of everything. “you don’t have to worry. i want this to be all about you feeling good, okay?” you nod in reply and suguru sucks his teeth. “i want a verbal answer, little one.”

“yes, sugu…”

he places a chaste kiss to your collarbones then, a pleased hum vibrating against your temperate skin. “good girl.” 

the next few moments are a blur as suguru geto strips you down, kissing every inch of your exposed body with each article of clothing he removes from your shaky frame. all that he leaves you with are your soiled panties after reaching around the curve of your spine to unclip your bra with one hand.  it’s all so nerve wracking and invigorating all at once, you can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in for more.

between the chaos and rustling of his own clothes coming off, suguru presses two digits to your budding clit and your world tilts on its axis — he’s hardly touching you and yet you feel so good, especially when he rolls the swollen little nub between a thumb and forefinger. your nails form crescent moons against his shoulder in response.

you’re so overwhelmed by the patterns he traces over your clit, his name, his promises to you and your body, as well as the blood rushing to it — that you hardly notice geto’s descent on your body, the hot trail of kisses he leaves between the valley of your breasts and over your soft tummy. you just about manage to feel him over the haze in your brain when his lips hit the scalloped edge of your panties, and you jolt when the tip of his tongue forcefully traces the outline of your un-used, soaked hole from over the gusset of said garment. 

the fabric darkens as your juices pool against it, mixed with the wetness of suguru’s tongue.

“will you let me pleasure you, little one?” 

it’s not like you can say no (not that you want to), especially with the way geto manoeuvres your thighs to hang over the backs of his strong shoulders as he settles between your trembling legs. while he waits for your reply, he takes your wrist into his grasp and pulls one of your silk scrunchies from it — using it to tie back his luscious black hair. 

you look down at him through your lashes with a painted expression of want and worry. 

suguru pushes the pads of his thumbs into the globes of your ass against the cold table — massaging the flesh with mischievous eyes as your pussy gushes and leaks a fresh wave of nectar right down to the puckered ring between your ass cheeks. “just tying my hair back as a precaution,” he whispers, voice lowering an octave as his face slowly nears your clenching cunt. “i’m a messy eater…”

“a-ah! sugu!”

at first, suguru delivers a single lick to your awaiting pussy, drawing a stripe with his tongue between the length of your fat and sluice folds. then, when you cry out his name he can’t help but to latch his heated mouth onto your unattended sex, chuckling at the realisation of just how good you taste. it’s a natural flavour, with a twinge of sweetness suguru could have only hoped to imagine. he’s been waiting for this moment and to have you like this for weeks — to replace his prior daydreams of fucking his baby sister with you…and now he finally has the material to do so. 

a sinful giddiness infiltrates geto’s bloodstream as he kitten licks at your pulsating mound — feeding in your arousal as it grows before inhaling deeply, nastily taking in your scent so that he can commit it to memory. “how does that feel?” he coos his words out as he hungrily nips at your sopping folds, rolling them raw between rows of perfect white teeth until you’re choking on a breath and your face scrunches adorably. “is that nice, love?” 

a wet whimper lies on your kiss-swollen lips, and your hips naturally buck up to follow the warm trace of suguru’s mouth encompassing your sex. “f-feels so good! b-better than i… could have imagined,” you struggle to get out, gargling on each syllable while your chest heaves and arches away from the chilly table — giving suguru the perfect view of your bouncing breasts and only motivating him to pleasure you more. “f-fuck!” 

if you were his baby sister, suguru isn’t so sure that you’d curse in front of him. she wouldn’t, she was too docile and sweet to utter a bad thing in his presence. but you, you’re both of those things and more — you lose yourself easily to the ecstasy in your veins; liquid pleasure spewing from your blistering hot cunt like a free-flowing river, painting suguru’s high cheekbones with your body’s riches. he feels blessed to be between your thighs, defiling the blossoming flower of your cunt with his eager mouth. 

“you’re so…you’re so pretty when you gush like this for me. i want you to give me more.” his tongue darts along the length of your weeping slit, catching what you leak before it can go to waste on the icy table beneath your hot skin. drunk on your taste, suguru forces his flexible tongue past the tightness of your fluttering entrance. “can you do that for me?” he mouths, though whatever he says is slurred as he slowly begins to tongue fuck you. 

“a-anything,” you say, breathing shallow and eyes beginning to grow teary. suguru’s tongue slips in and out of your creaming hole with rhythm, preparing you, using a pseudo sensation, for his fat cock. “anything for you! i wanna feel good for you. wanna please you!” he languidly strokes at your ribbed insides as a reward, chasing your honey nectar taste while your hips canter up and chase bud hismouth. 

suguru intends to destroy you, own you and unleash all of his darkest fantasies onto you. he’s dreamed of ruining his adoptive little sister, making her cum all over him — it just so happens that you look and sound like her, you match every single one of his dreams about her, you make them all a reality. it’s only right that he pleases you and makes you see stars for needing him and relying on him so well. 

he wonders if his sister would cry like you do, or if she would try to stave off her orgasm like you do. would she scream his name over the saliva pooling on her tongue like you do. eyes in the shade of deep, chocolate brown start to flutter shut at the sound of your desperate pleas as you writhe under suguru’s attention of your swollen pussy. your back sticks to the table and your thighs shake either side of suguru’s head, but he doesn’t relent on sucking the juices that cling to your pussy lips until all he can breathe is you. 

his tongue twists happily against your lush walls, grasping at the essence that lines them. 

“you’re doing well for me, little one, so well…” he praises you, knowing how close you’re getting. it’s in the way your body twitches with every suck to your hardened clit and the way you try to push him off of you. you need it so bad, you need him to make you cum. suguru thrusts deeper, harder and faster using his tongue — catching what dribbles from your tiny hole after it slips between your ass cheeks and pools in a puddle on the table. “i want to taste it. if you’ll cum for me, that’ll make me happy. so let me…”

suguru can’t even finish, dizzy on the taste of you like the buzz of a high. he could spend an infinite number of days between your legs. no matter how sore his knees get from kneeling between them — all he wants to do is slurp down everything that you give him, focus on making you reach pleasure of only heavenly limits in order to evade the guilt he feels. the one that causes knots to twist in geto’s stomach. 

how could he do this? 

how could he want this? 

to fuck someone so reminiscent of his little sister. 

to manipulate them into fucking him? 

suguru’s name is hot on your lips, spiralling into the husky evening air. “come on, little one. cum for me,” meanwhile, his breath on your cunt makes your hips wiggle and hole spasm — a new wave of juices staining his face. it’s scent and taste coax the man into diving back into your sopping heat, the point of his nose bumping against your pleasure nub as if peeks out from beneath its hood. 

“m-mph… m’kay,” comes your hushed whisper as you thread your fingers through the black roots of geto’s hair, keeping him pinned to your precious creamy core as you rut against his agile tongue. “f-feels funny!” you gasp and warble, filling the man’s mouth with your raw folds and liquid lust.

“hm?” geto hums lazily in acknowledgment, licking up to your clit so that he can replace his tongue with two digits. he works at your dripping hole, stretching it over them through the haze in his mind. he swoons at the thought of replacing those same digits with his cock next — they speed up with excitement, squelching and echoing throughout the room, overlapping with your high pitched breathy moans. 

with your heart rattling against your ribcage, you can hardly fight off the urge building within your lower belly — your hips are frantic as they chase after the feeling and the burning high that crackles across your neurons. geto groans wickedly, feeling your sex spasm against his soaked lips and clench down hard on his fingers. it’s not long before he feels you succumb to your first orgasm. it washes over him in heavenly waves — clearing away his guilt and desire for his little sister while simultaneously drowning you under sinful pretences.

your entire body is racked with the case of the shakes, your eyes shooting back into the dark depths of your skull while white noise fills your ears and overlays the sound of suguru lewdly slurping at your release. speaking off, clear streams of your arousal spurt from your quivering cunt…and for the first time ever, you squirt. everywhere, all over the place, making such a mess that suguru is left gargling over everything that you give him and there’s a crude splatter as your juices hit the floor. 

he doesn’t stop, however, licking you clean with his fingers continuing to curl languidly against your g-spot — over and over again. 

“sugu p-please! s’too much,” you plead in the form of a heavy sob — but only god knows that you don’t want the man to stop. 

“just one more for me?” he asks you tentatively, releasing your throbbing clit with a wet pop. suguru stands and you look up at him — noting the way his bangs stick to his cheeks from how wet you’ve gotten him. he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers in and out of you either, dragging the tips of them along your overstimulated and stretched walls. “you can do it, and if you can i’ll reward you. how does that sound, little one?” he slows his pace just enough to only have the seat of his palm salaciously grind against your clit, not wanting to hurt you. 

he wouldn’t want to hurt his adoptive sister if he ever had the chance to get her spread open like this. 

your face is stained with mascara, your brown eyes big and wobbly and your braids are askew — but still, you’re the most adorable thing he’s ever seen, next to her. your fingers threaten to snap shut around his wrist, but with his free hand he forces the wet and doughy flesh back open, and with a few more thrusts if his fingers, nice and tantalisingly slow, you’re cumming again in another cute, clear stream — dowsing suguru’s hand in another wash of your cum. 

leaning down, suguru’s lips tainted with your arousal lean down to meet your own — capturing them in a sweet kiss to help bring you back down to earth. “what’s your colour, darling? red for bad, yellow for okay and green for good. how do you feel?” 

“g-green,” you mumble, keening into his touch and craving his affection. “i feel fine, my legs won’t stop shaking. i’ve never cum like that before…” 

pride blooms like a wildflower in suguru’s chest. 

“well, i don’t intend on stopping, little one,” brushing your braids back into place, suguru carefully pulls his fingers out of your stretched hole and swiftly sucks them clean. “your pretty pussy is so tiny, must not have been used properly,” the vulgarity of his words have you arching for more from suguru, and you’re lucky that he’s not done with you yet. “don’t worry, love. i’ll fix that.” 

you’re weak in the knees when suguru manhandles you from the table onto the floor, making sure that you’re comfortable on your tummy — he even goes as far to nestle a bag of rice flour under your hips. you pretend not to notice the way his strength makes you flutter around nothing, smearing your juices onto the bakery floor.

“i’ve been holding back quite a bit,” he murmurs against your naked shoulder blades — the dark tresses of his hair tickling your skin. “so i might not last long.” you hear a belt clink before suguru kicks his slacks off and away, rewarding your patience with a kiss against your spine. “i hope it’s okay if i just give you my all.” 

from this position, it’s easy for suguru to picture his younger, adopted sister instead of you — he’s dreamed of having her present for him like this countless times, but it doesn’t compare to the way it feels having your hot body underneath him like this. your ass is so soft and pliant in his hands as he drags your hips up a little higher. another hand grasps at the hardness of his cock that’s been dripping and aching ever since geto first got his mouth on you. 

with stuttering hips, he positions himself at your needy entrance, chuckling in approval when you attempt to wiggle back on him — just as hungry for this as your lover is. both of you hiss as his veiny shaft comes into contact with your sticky folds, suguru using the remnants of your orgasms to slick himself up again and make it easier for you take all of him. you can’t see him, but the dark haired man’s cheeks are tinged pink with pure desire — his gaze turning woozy as he looks from your gaping hole to his cockhead, tapping it against your souse entrance a few times for good measure. 

fuck a condom, he thinks, if given the opportunity — he would have fucked his sister rawtoo. 

“whatever you give me, i-it’ll be enough for me, sugu,” you sniff, fisting the floor in anticipation — laying your hot, tear streaked cheek against its cool surface. “t-thank you for treating me so well.” 

“i promise,” geto heaves, words a little too rushed and eager. “i’ll make you feel so good, so fucking…h-hah—“ without warning, he thrusts all the way inside of you with his hips driving all the way forward until his pelvis is flush against the curve of your ass. geto is chubbier than you thought he would be, and just the right length — plugging you full. every vein wrapped around his shaft presses up against your most sensitive pleasure spots, and he’s weighty against your gummy unused walls. 

suguru’s breath prickles at shell of your ears as he collapses on top of you, all of his weight keeping you pinned to the cold hard floor. “can i move?” he lets out a wavering gasp, fighting the instinct to fuck down into you. your cunt ripples around him deliciously, the heat from your body making him drowsy. “you need to be fucked, little one. need someone to stretch out your tight pussy… i can do that for you. if you let me…”

he hates the part of his brain that wonders if his baby sister was this tight when gojo fucked her. 

“i want you to,” you slur gently, purposely squeezing down on the base of suguru’s cock and practically creaming around it. you wriggle back on him until he’s completely bottomed out inside of you — balls deep while you ooze against his pelvis and heavy balls. “need you to fuck me…”

that’s all it takes for your stranger turned lover to give his all to you. he drops his sweaty chest to your back, pulling his chubby cock from the snugness of your heat as his teeth take purchase in your shoulders — leaving a litter of love bites your uniform will barely cover once the night is over. suguru is possessive of his belongings, like you and his little sister — the bites are his claim on you. 

in one powerful move, you’re full to the brim with rock hard cock — deep in your guts, churning them up and spreading lust like a wildfire through your weak body. you feel dwarfed underneath him. despite being pinned to the floor, you still manage to rock your hips back against suguru and suck more of him into your cute, quivering cunt. it just about helps him set a steady stream to his meaningful thrusts.

wet slapping sounds echo throughout the back room of the bakery, accompanied by your meek mewls and gasps for air the faster suguru pounds into your warmth. fat droplets of precum smear along your soaked and ripe insides, ready to be bred by suguru. ready to be marked by him. you feel like you belong to him like a treasured pet and you don’t even mind it. your pussy blossoms for him like that of a japanese cherry blossom in the spring time — or iris flowers, shobu, in their iconic shade of purple. like the bruises he’s left on your back. 

oh, you’re just perfect for suguru. you fulfil all of his sister-fucking fantasies, even your moans sound like hers when she would get off in her room — thinking no one could hear her. he loves this, he might even love you — the way you feel wrapped around him, reaching for the stars in your eyes. it feels like you’re made for him, with the way you clamp down on his oozing mushroomed tip and squirm about underneath him.

your pussy barely lets go of geto when he draws his hips back, but every time he fucks down into him — your fluttering hole stretches to accommodate his creamy thickness. it creates the perfect pathway for the dark haired man to bully your g-spot in a way that makes you scream for more. “you’re perfect for me…fuck, you’re so perfect,” suguru intimately whispers into your skin from behind, his hands smoothing over yours as you claw at the floor to ground yourself from the overwhelming ecstasy. he thinks he understands why satoru had fucked his sister now — there’s something so satisfying about corrupting someone. taking their innocence with your dick. “should i keep you like this? on my aching cock forever?” 

“y-yes please!” you squeal, succumbing to your body’s biological will, cunt spitting droplets of arousal all over suguru. he’s barely able to pull out of you, his dick on lockdown inside of your core. there’s hardly any space between you both any more, the air vibrating with electrifying lust and the scent of sex. 

you coo and cry out for your newfound lover, your ass and the backs of your thighs burning from how hard his skin slaps against your own. you hardly care about the pain for its overlapped with ecstasy like sea water on a sandy shore. “you’re such a good…good fucking girl for me. for your big brother,” suguru loses track of his words, his mind lagging behind his mouth and his hips that relentlessly pound you into the ground. over the sound of sex you think that you’ve misheard him, but then his voice rises an octave and in volume as he continues to moan out your praises — succumbing to your gratifying and ichorous cunt latching onto the veins spiralling around his dick. “oh my precious little sister… taking me so fucking well—!”

in that moment, all of the guilt suguru has ever felt for leaving his sister, for ruining her relationship and fleeing to new york, for thinking of her while fucking you… it all comes rushing back. he stops thrusting, freezing in place above you while his cock twitches along your insides. 

“f-fuck i—“ he starts to apologise, but the cry you let out stops him. 

“nii-san,” you whine petulantly, fat tears gathering in your lash line. “d-don’t stop! please keep fucking me, fuck me harder. make me cum, make me scream, make me—!” your words are cut off by suguru’s fingers wrapping around your delicate neck from behind, giving it a gentle squeeze. he resumes his thrusts, a little harsher and more carelessly coordinated than before, once he realises that maybe you’re just as sick and twisted as him. calling him big brother while he uses you for a dirty fuck in place of his younger adopted sibling… 

you like this just as much as he does.

suguru knows you’re perfect, perhaps even more so than his little sister. he uses his grip on your throat to tug your head back while he fucks you silly, slotting his mouth against yours in a salacious and sinful kiss. “onii-san, hm?” he forces his tongue over yours, moaning into your mouth pathetically as he reverts back to his mother-tongue. “you want your onii-san to fuck you, imouto? make you cum again?”

“please, please, please onii-san! g-gotta cum f’you…g’na cum. c-close!” comes your brainless babble while you fall into a cockdrunk state. 

“you beg so pretty for your big brother, sweet little thing. i should fill you up, breed this greedy little cunt for all its worth, right?” suguru’s mind grows as foggy as yours, copious amounts of his precum pouring into you and dripping down your swollen slit. it’s a mess, everything is disgustingly messy — this situation, the fact that you’re so eagerly calling him your big brother, the fact that he’s fucking you because you remind him of his sibling. but neither of you give a shit, not when you feel so fucking good you swear you’re seeing the pearly gates. 

“g-god! please sugu, please nii-san, i need it. need you!” the slow roll of your hips contrasts with geto’s ever increasing slap of skin on skin, your mix of arousals crudely seeping down his balls and to the floor below. the point at which your bodies join starts to forth as well. 

“is that so…?” suguru hums attentively, grinning ear to ear at how you play into this immoral dynamic. it fuels the fire of lust burning through him, setting his lungs alight and ruining his chances at breathing. his thrusts become erratic, his cockhead married to your g-spot, and he finds himself growing more and more excited about the sight of his cum leaking from your ravaged hole. “you must really like it when your big brother fucks you — hm, lillith baby? do you like how deep i can get, deep in your tummy?” he continues to ramble, grabbing your ass cheeks to peel them apart — letting out a deep and wild gripe from his chest at the sight of strings of your clear arousal glueing the fleshy globes together. “love how you throw it back on me. keep coating your nii-san’s cock in your pretty juices. gush for me, make me shine with your cum.” 

you nod and do as geto says, simpering out for even more while you work yourself back on his swelling girth as it shines with milky white. you can no longer keep up with what’s happening, your brain actually lags at the way your faux big brother coos your name while your sexes sing a lewd song of pap, pap, pap. lust courses through your veins and burns at your nerve endings, you should feel disgusted with yourself but nothing makes sense. you feel like you’re high, and you don’t want to come back down. at this point, all you can do is lay down and take it, clenching around suguru’s hard cock where it counts — pulling more precum from his heavy breeder’s balls. 

“nii-san…more, ‘m right there—“ you sob, reaching back with bambi eyes that plead for another kiss. you allow suguru to fuck you at his own free will, too weak to keep up.

“right here, imouto? against this sweet spot, baby sis?” you get a little tighter every time he calls you his little sister, creaming around his base and crying out his name as if it’s a fucking prayer. “you want me to breed you that bad, baby sis? want my cum deep in your little sister cunt?” 

you beg for it through tears and suguru makes you cum again just like he promised. your third orgasm of the night renders you completely useless, a silent scream tearing in your throat while you seizes up and trap suguru deep inside of your fluttering cunt. it’s so fucking cute to him, how much you gush when you orgasm, like a rushing river that never stops flowing. it’s almost as if the flood gates have opened up or heaven has rained down on geto’s fat cock. 

that’s all he needs for his own orgasm to be triggered, he collapses on top of you from behind as he empties his balls inside of your womb with a shout of your name. “‘m sorry little one, ‘m sorry… so fucking sorry.” he says hoarsely, cock pulsing while a wave of his cream lines your pussy from the inside — he doesn’t ever let up, fucking you through it all until both of your sexes are raw and abused beyond repair. “i love you, baby sis… imouto. s-shit, i love you so much.” your hole burns by the time suguru comes down, and you swear he feels bigger now that his dick is swollen with his orgasm. 

suguru is still cumming in spurts when he pulls out of you with a hiss, painting your puffy folds white, the rest leaking out of your entrance. “im so sorry… I have no idea where that came from…” he starts to apologise tiredly. “that was…”

you remain silent for a moment, mulling over what to say next as suguru rolls off of you, and lays by your side quietly. you flip onto your back, staring up at the artificial lights hanging from the ceiling. you liked this, whatever the hell it was… even if it meant he was fucking you to fuck his unresolved feelings out for his sister. 

“amazing… yeah.” is the response that you settle on. 

“that’s…that’s not what i meant.” 

“and i know that! you don’t have to apologise,” you cut him off abruptly, keeping your voice softly. “i liked it, whatever weird kink this is, it made me feel good.” 

geto flushes hot all over, sheepishly running a hand through his sweaty black locks. “my sister… she’s not seriously my blood sister. she’s adopted and—“ he’s so sheepish and right after ruining you beyond belief that it makes you laugh in pure amusement. “a-and i like you! quite a bit. i know this was… strange… but with your permission. i’d like to keep seeing you.”

“and fucking me?” you tease, tucking yourself into the man’s side while nuzzling your face into his neck. he smells like you, he smells like sex…but you’re satisfied.

his arm loosely wraps around your waist, thumbing over any bruises he might have left there. “that too.” 

“what about the gifts?” 

“those won’t stop either.” 

finally, you sit up, looming over geto as you tuck your braids behind your ear and out of your face. cupping suguru’s jaw, you lean over him and place a somewhat upside down kiss to the man’s lips — then brush over their cherry red bruising. “then you have yourself a deal — now please help me clean up, sugu. i don’t want to get fired.” 

it’s his turn to laugh next. “i’ll just take care of all your expenses if you do.” 

you roll your eyes.

this new dynamic, this new fling…it’s unhealthy, yeah. but as long as suguru has someone like you to look out for and need him. he thinks he’ll be okay. 

getting over his sister was the key to healing. just like his purple nailed therapist had said — so focusing on you was healing him. before either of you can move to help clean up, suguru reaches up slowly and cups your neck tenderly. he brings you down to his level, his fingers wrapping around the silver chain swinging loosely from your neck before pressing a kiss to the amethyst pendant there.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[extrajigs]

The MODERN MIRAN SCRIPT. Basically the continuation of the old school Chimeric that I covered in this post. That has most of the nitty gritty and this is more so about the branch of the language. The BIG info dump below the cut!

Chimeric is the original, a purely written language used by chimera when talking is unavailable. Written in a circle heading inwards with two defined lines of dialogue. The subject/action 'real' substance and the tonal, emotional intent of the writer and sometimes reader. Chimeric is still used by the remaining population to talk within their ranks, but nearly every chimera is at least bilingual depending on where they ended up. Back in Mirum the written language of Chimeric stayed behind but has been pretty heavily modified to better suit the reading style of the people that remained. Mainly Histin who cut out pretty much all the fluff and added a bit more structure.

So! As opposed to the radial style of Chimeric, Miran has double decker sentences. With the top row being the remnants of the Subject quarter and the bottom row being the Action quarter. Linkage of subjects and actions take place between the two lines. Plus there is a new form of linkage, the priority/influence links which show which subject is acting upon who, and define action sequences. While Chimeric is written inwards radially, Miran is written top to bottom, starting going from left to right then right to left and alternating down the page. Also circular paper is swapped for rectangular, think a standard 8x10. Still, you are expected to enclose sentences within two parentheses, lil hold over from the circular days. But to the outside perspective the largest difference between the two is their tones, or well overtonage of one and lack of tone in the other. Chimeric is the 3 paragraph overly detailed text, Miran is the single word response. Lest to say they do not mesh super well.

ANOTHER fun hold over I want to add but am still thinking over characters for is that for rare fancy words (poetry/music/heart speak) Miran can slide in a THIRD ROW in between the first and second. There the spoken tone quarter manages to eek out a meager Miran existence through a few dozen sets of characters to convey certain emotions and the like. Songs in Miran very often have multiple sets of lyrics overlaid in this fashion, the largest can have 5+ tonal rows.

Oh that reminds me! Miran DOES have a spoken equivalent. Or rather, the original shared Histin/Diagrevies language has been stretched over to fit better with the written word. That in itself has split the spoken word in Mirum in two once more, with spoken Miran and Draconic being the two main talkings. Histin typically only speak and read Miran, whilst Diagrevies will speak both; with their preference being draconic. A Diagrevies will typically have a Histin under their employ to read and write for them since ya know, they cannot see.

All this taken into consideration though, Miran and Chimeric are still basically two ways of writing the same basal language. Not that modern speakers like to admit that. But small character additions and style changes aside, if you can read one you can get the gist of the other. Miran is by far the most spoken in modern times tho. Its a little more accessible for different species than Chimeric.

Want to get more into the modern Mirum dealings. The chimera may be absent but their influence is still very plain to see if you know where to look.

[rottenraccoons]

hey raccoons!! i have couple of questions about the obscura universe: how many languages exist in the world? is the languages the same as real life? and if there are multiple languages, would any of the LIs know different languages?

Oh, so many languages exist. The world is a massive place and the marketplace is only one small part of it. Here in the real world a quick google search tells me there's more than 7000 languages currently in use and I believe it.

Logically, these languages would not be the same as ours. Language, culture, and history are deeply intertwined (my favourite example is how much more religious the swear words are in Quebecois French vs. France French) and we do our best to avoid references that feel especially "our world" in our writing. Keir would never steal "French bread" from a store when there's no such thing as French or France in his world, he would steal a baguette.

But also, like. We write in English. We're not about to make up a new conlang. So my view is it's a bit like TV shows set in ancient Rome where everyone speaks with a British accent and uses English figures of speech; it's a convention that keeps things accessible despite, y'know, being technically inaccurate.

As for the characters:

Francesco Francesco is bilingual! He's most fluent in his mother tongue, and highly proficient in one that is commonly used in the marketplace.

Keir Only speaks one language fluently, but has picked up plenty of words and phrases in the dominant languages in the marketplace, especially the swears.

Oleander Speaks four languages; he's extremely proficient at his mother tongue, speaks another one at a high proficiency, and two with very good grammar but limited vocabulary.

Cirrus Speaks mainly one language, but knows a the basics for an old language that was commonly used in religious circles, especially in lunar ones. He knows how to write in its unique script, too.

[mangohobbit]

.

.

Authors Note: Hello to anyone this reaches (this feels like a message in a bottle) For over a year now I've writing both a storyline and drabbles of my Call of Duty OC with the 141 boys. I just love her so much, and I've been having a blast writing her and the boys. This is me finally getting the courage to post her story. Maybe my style of writing isn't for everyone, and I'm not a great writer or anything, but it's my story and character that I've grown very attached to. I did try my best to research how the military works from different parts of the world. Not gonna lie when I say it can get very overwhelming with the information. But I'm here for the fun times so inaccuracies will happen but I don't think they detract from the story or the characters as a whole. So I hope you enjoy :)

Story Note: When I tell you this is a slow burn...this is a SSSLLOOWWW BBUUURRRNN. The first story is simply for you to get to know Daniela (my OC) and learn how she got recruited to the 141. I want you guys to care for her story and struggles throughout her journey with the 141. Her relationship with each of the boys is purely platonic and each dynamic with them is different. The romance will come later I PROMISE!

*please be nice with me! I tried editing as much as possible! (Being bilingual makes me dumb sometimes)

Tigger warning? Well there is a kidnapping and your regular warfare violence but not in this chapter.

Word Count : 2938

Harpia and the 141 part 1: The Boys and the Bird

Chapter 1: The Harpy and her cake

BANG! BANG! BANG! 

The fireworks went off as the last of the set of military groups passed the line as their anthem faded into another marching band song. Streamers filled the sky along with stray balloons floated all around from children's slippery fingers. As a special anniversary of some hundred year old treaty to allied forces from long forgotten war, the militaries from all around the world were invited to show off in the hosting country. This time it was in Paris, France. The streets were littered with thousands of parade watchers and hundreds of military personnel showing off their fancy parade outfits. Shiny black boots stepped on fallen streamers and confetti as some sixty different countrymen and women advertised themselves to the civilians who decided to come out and enjoy the merriment.

“Come on Ghost, get into the spirit of it,” Soap waved a small Scottish flag in front of his friend's face. 

“I hate these things,” Ghost gruffed.

“It’s a beautiful spring day in Paris. How can you hate it?” Gaz nudged on his comrades crossed arms. 

“Because it’s annoying and loud,” Simon huffed. 

“You just have to get into the spirit,” Soap fiddled his flag at Simon’s face. 

“Soap, if you value that shit little flag then get it away or I snap it in half. Make a choice,” Ghost threatened. 

Soap glared at his party pooping lieutenant, who always had a hard time in crowds. 

“Haven’t been to one of these in awhile,” Gaz waved the U.K flag. “Have either you ever participated in one of these?” he asked. 

“Once,” Soap and Ghost responded at the same time, though in different tones. Soap in a happy way and Ghost in an annoyed way. 

“I’m gonna take a guess and say you hated it Simon?” Gaz chuckled.

“Got a free meal afterwards for it so whatever,” Simon huffed.

“I got to wear a fancy kilt and sash,” Johnny remembered the event fondly. 

“Come on boys!” Captain Price called out for his boys from behind. “Let's get something to eat that, for once, we don’t have to pay for.”

The rest of the 141 followed behind the captain. Winding through the crowd they were curious as to why Price had brought them to the parade in the first place. This morning they were in their regular base across the English canal and by the afternoon they were surrounded by people while the music of marching bands pounded into their ears. 

Soap moved up to Price’s side. “So are you goin’ to tell us why we’re here. Captain?”

“Not yet MacTavish. Let’s get some grub first then I'll get you in on it,” Price replied. 

“You don’t know either do you?” Ghost spoke up. 

“Something like that,” Price confessed. 

When the group went around the corner of the street, a familiar face looked up to them. “Boys?” It was Laswell standing in front of the entrance to a giant white tent where parade performers were walking into. 

“Kate,” Gaz was the first to come up to his mentor with a handshake and a smile. 

“Good to see you again boys,” she grinned back at them. “Come on in and grab a bite while I talk with your captain,” she gestured for them to follow her. Before walking into the tent through a separate line, Kate flashed a laminated badge to the two security guards standing watch. They nodded to the agent for her to go with the 141. 

Soap, Gaz, and Soap did as they were told by Kate. They were pretty hungry from all the walking and endless standing in the heat of the day. The three filled their plates to the brim with all kinds of good stuff while Price went to talk to Laswell on the side. 

“So why did you need me here on such short notice?” the captain of the 141 asked. 

Without saying another word Kate handed John a manila folder which only meant one thing. Although, with Kate that’s what most of their meets up and conversations were about; assignments and favors. Which would it be this time? 

“Who is in need of saving this time Kate?” Price grinned sarcastically. As he opened the folder the first thing he noticed was the family photo as it was on top of the pile. Just a family of three; a father, mother, and daughter (a young woman) lined up together in front of some historic looking building. All three were smiling happily for the shot. 

“She’s been taken,” Laswell said, then sipped on some champagne. 

“And her importance? Price asked. 

“The man is Juan Carlos Morena. He’s an environmentalist recently elected as mayor to a town in the south of Colombia. He's become infamous in the conservation sphere. And with him being elected as a mayor only made him more famous. It’s given other activists hope that people want change to happen in the region.”

“But?” Price looked to Laswell finding the “but” in this topic. 

“Climate activists in Colombia have always been targeted by a number of greedy people. They are the disruptors to their illegal operations so it’s common for activists like this guy to be killed. Only this time instead of just killing him off his daughter has been taken by a confirmed cartel group operating in the area.”

“How is it confirmed?” Price asked. 

“To make a statement they kidnapped her in daylight in front of people. It was filmed,” Kate took out her phone from her pocket and played the video on silent. It was a shaky shot but it was definitely a video of a young woman being shoved into a car while fighting for her life.

“How do you know it’s not some staged act? Daddy’s girl wanted to get away from parents?”

“I asked the same question but she’s also just as giving to the community as her parents are. She’s a lawyer and leader of her own organization of helping women leave their abusive households. She’s active in the community so trust me when I say she doesn’t seem like a spoiled, rich girl that got into the wrong crowd.”

“Christ,” Price flipped through the pages. “You said a confirmed cartel as well? How do we know that?”

“The symbol on the jeep is the symbol used by this particular organization. They’ve been within our radar for some time so it was recognizable. Not much has been done on our part to suppress them but this could finally be our chance.”

“So moving drugs and inciting violence is one thing but you finally draw the line at kidnapping a major figure of the community?” Price looked at Kate in suspicion. 

“There have been plenty of stories that have come to me about these guys, Price,” she got defensive. “But stories weren't enough. Now we have footage and a kidnapping. It's a chance to finally put these guys down once and for all. And you and your boys are the best in the business for this kind of job. So what do you say?”

Price kept glaring at his old friend. Although she tried to hide it, Kate had a look of desperation and concern. Price gave in with a heavy sigh. “What are our villains' names?”

“They call themselves “The Jungle” or in Spanish it would be “La Jungla”,” Kate revealed in a rough accent. “They used to be a small sect connected to the Medellin cartel but have operated for the past twenty years as their own separate organization. These are dangerous people John. And the civilians of this region could use one less threat to their lives,” Laswell put the now empty glass onto a passing tray. Price stayed silent for a moment looking over the rest of the files. “You don’t have to accept this but the squad that’s being formed by their own military could use some people like you and your boys.”

The captain looked at the family photo one last time. Those smiles cut deep into the soldiers heart in thinking how scared they all must be. Her family weren’t the only one’s in pain. This was a whole community of people trying to make their lives better and it only keeps being interrupted by vile people like this cartel. 

“Well, alright then,” John closed the folder and handed it back to his friend. 

“Your support will be very appreciated, John,” Laswell grinned. 

“How did you even hear about this mess?”

“Through the grapevine kind of situation. A friend, of a friend, of a friend contacted me.”

“Looks like you’re the most popular kid in the schoolyard Kate,” John chuckled with Kate following along with him as she found the comment humorous as well. 

“There is one slight problem John.”

“And that is?”

“You and your boys have no experience in this region or a landscape like this and only you and Gaz know Spanish that’s passable at best. This is a region where English speakers are rare and communication will be a key,” Kate explained. “There could also be encounters with non Spanish speakers as well.”

“So what are you saying?” John crossed his arms.

“Your team is being loaned a new recruit. But don’t worry they have plenty of experience for this kind of stuff,” Laswell looked to her left and gestured for a man some feet away from them to come join her and Price. The man came up and greeted Price with a firm handshake. He was dressed in a formal military uniform with the flag of Peru patch on his left arm. “John, this is Colonel Alvarez of the Peruvian Air Force.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain Price,” the man nodded.

“Pleasure is all mine, Colonel. It’s not you who will be joining me for the mission will it?” John didn’t want to be rude but the man had some years on him to be doing a mission like the one he just accepted. 

“No, no captain, I have recommended someone to Laswell for you to take on the mission. She is a very valuable asset to the air force and will be very helpful in this situation.”

“What does the Peruvian military have to do with the affairs of the remote region of Colombia?” John asked. 

“That we share many common enemies and most notably…we share the Amazon,” the colonel noted. “It is not uncommon for military troops from different nations that share a border to assist one another on missions like this.”

“I’m going to take a guess and say you’re the friend of a friend Laswell was implying about?”

“Indeed,” the colonel nodded. “This is who will be joining your team captain,” the Peruvian man handed Price another manila folder with the name “Harpia” in the front. 

John skimmed over the impressive resume of the recruit. Kate was right about her experience even though she had only been in the military for the past five years. “She’s quite the academic,” John noticed the bachelor's degree in her education side of the file along with a number of certifications. Then there was a list under the languages section that left him surprised. “What are all these?”

“Your recruit is an expert in indigenous languages, captain,” the colonel explained. “Where you are going, not everyone speaks Spanish. Not many military personnel have her knowledge and even fewer civilians have her experience and clearance for this kind of mission.”

“Alright, so we meet her over there?” John accepted the outcome. 

“Not necessarily John, she was in the parade and is right here,” Kate said. 

“She would be right over…” the colonel scanned the area of the dining tent. “There she is,” the colonel pointed to a young woman holding a small plate with a half eaten slice of cake.  

“Does she know about all this?” Price asked. 

“Indeed she does,” the colonel nodded. “You can go and meet her now if you like.”

“Then if you’ll excuse me,” Price nodded to the two higher ranking agents as he went off to the side and meet his new temp. 

Not one for sneaking, John came up to the young woman directly. She was dressed in a dark green coat and knee length skirt in the same color and some low square heels. She had a fancy sash across her chest and a spiffy looking hat that lay on top of her neatly slicked back hair that was tied on a braided low bun. She was fully decked out as much as the other parade performers. 

The young woman saw the captain make his way towards her and she put down her plate immediately. There was a cheery grin on her face once John was finally in front of her; towering over her frame. “Captain Price?” the decorated woman asked. 

“That would be me,” John smiled at her. The most notable thing about the lady was her small stature. She seemed to be even shorter than Farah. Her cheekbones were high and sharp but also maintained a very round face. There was something very unique about her face but then he remembered the list of languages she knew. 

“It’s an honor to meet you Captain,” she shook Price's hand enthusiastically. “I am Lieutenant Daniela Huari of the Peruvian Air Force.”

“Aka Harpia,” John added. “What’s that stand for?”

“The harpy, like in Greek mythology but in this case it’s after the harpy eagle of South America,” Daniela explained. 

“Can’t wait to find out how you got that one,” John chuckled. “So you’re the one who’s joining me and my boys?”

“It would seem so,” Daniela nodded.

“You know what you’re walking into, right?” John had his concern dad tone switched on.

“I do,” the lieutenant nodded a yes to the captain. 

“Good,” John smiled at her eagerness. “I mean clearly you more than qualified for this,” he held up her file. “Very impressive stuff in here.”

“Thank you Captain Price,” Daniela grinned at the praise. 

“Alright lieutenant, you meet us on the base at 18:00 hours. There isn’t any more time to waste here.”

“Si, capitan,” Daniela saluted the higher ranking officer.

“Meet ya there Harpia,” John grinned once more to the young woman and made his way back to his boys who were stuffing themselves with all sorts of stuff on their plates. “Come on lads we have some packing and explaining to do,” Price waved for the other three men to follow him out of the tent. 

“Who were you talking to Cap’?” Soap asked while taking one last bit out of his dessert. 

“Who was that with Laswell?” Gaz then questioned as well.

“And who was the shrimp you talked to next?” Ghost added to the list of questions to his captain. 

“Let’s talk about this at the base boys. There’s a lot to unpack here,” Price led his task force back to the base on the outskirts of the city. 

Task Force 141 made their way to their assigned aircraft that would be crossing them over the Atlantic all the way to a base in Venezuela. Price was right about unpacking a great deal of information to the other three men. The mayor, the mayor's daughter, her kidnapping, the cartel, there was much for the boys to intake. 

“A rescue mission and taking down a cartel. This’ll be fun,” Soap laid a friendly soft punch on Ghost’s shoulder. 

“Just dandy, Soap,” Simon gruffed. 

With heavy bags on their shoulders they finally found the lot for their transport. The loading dock door was fully open, ready for them to load in. But as they turned to go up the ramp all three men stopped dead in their tracks at someone already strapping in their own bags. 

“Who the hell are you?” Ghost partially yelled at the woman. 

Daniela bounced in her turn to the 141 crew members as she didn’t hear them come from behind her. “Oh you’re here, great,” she walked up to the men who towered over her. 

“Lieutenant Riley, Sergeant Garrick, Sergeant MacTavish, it’s a pleasure to meet you boys. I’ll be working with you on this mission,” she extended her hand for one of them to shake but all three of them just looked at her confusingly. 

“Boys! Be nice,” Price came from behind them. “This is lieutenant Daniela Huari. She is joining us as a pilot, guide, translator and interpreter, and survival expert,” Price came up to Daniela and gave her upper back a quick pat. “She’s on loan to us from the Peruvian Air Force so play nice with her. I want a good report about us from her when all this is over.”

“Survival expert?” Soap asked.

“The biggest disadvantage we have is that neither of us have ever been to this type of region. We’ve been to the country before but the place isn’t the streets of Bogota. This is the Amazon, a hostile environment we’ve never been to. Even though we’ll be assisting a military squadron from Colombia, I was informed that she will be needed.”

“For what?” Ghost asked.

“To make sure you don’t wipe your ass with a poisonous plant,” Daniela teased. 

Gaz and Soap couldn’t help but snicker at the comment. Even Price couldn’t hold in a soft scoff to his chest. “Alright soldiers, let’s get going. We have a whole ass ocean to cross.”

Johnny laughed quietly to Simon. “She’s a lieutenant and you called her a shrimp.”

“Shut up,” Ghost rumbled beneath his breath.

——The captain meeting Daniela Huari

[rainbowsuitcase]

Thoughts on The Marvels

CW for spoilers, though most of this is me going insane about the characters and not the actual plot.

1. I'm not sure I get the plot but I love these women.

2. I love their superhero suits. They look very good in them but also the designs are pretty great on its own.

3. Carol being fine in a professional setting but becoming unsure and nervous when she’s confronted by Monica is such a mood.

4. I've never cared much about him before but I do love Fury and his snarkiness and his dynamic with his "mentees" and most of all his style of motivation.

5. Val and Carol Val and Carol fucking Val and Carol

6. Also Val in a suit (well, i mean... women is suits in general)

7. I love Kamala as a fangirl (I think this is comic compliant, right). I love Kamala in general. She’s a teenager and she acts like a teenager and she's a very proud and loud fangirl, but she's also very competent and confident in what she can do.

8. Carol in a tanktop??? Carol in a tanktop!!! (Carol in a tanktop with the suit hanging around her waist) (But also Carol in a tanktop and those old style shorts)

9. Monica and her outfit on that musical planet >>>

10. Carol's princess dress? I love how it incorporates her symbol (not too crazy about the hair though, I like it much more just loose)

11. "He doesn’t have to sing?" "He's bilingual." Loved that, 10/10

12. I love the Marvels' dynamic. Sometimes they bicker but they all take each other seriously, they take Kamala seriously even thought they don't really know her and she's a kid. They all feel like they’re actually friends and like they actually care about each other. And then they were torn apart. I'm crying. Don’t talk to me.

13. I love Kamala basically Nick Furry-ing it at the end and that she'll apparently be the one to put together the Young Avengers (or New Avengers? You know what I mean)

14. I also love that (if I'm remembering correctly, which to be fair I'm probably not so please correct me, I don't want to be getting excited for nothing) it seems like this new young team is an all women's thing so far.

15. This movie confirmed what I already suspected - I have no problem with strong female characters or movies about them. I do have a problem when it's framed as "this is a movie about a Strong Female Character and you, woman, are going to like it because Feminism. We're doing Feminism." Case and point - Captain Marvel didn’t impress me much and I did find that Endgame final battle's all female scene cringy, but I love The Marvels and I really enjoyed Black Panther 2.

16. GOOSE HAD BABIES!! I don’t understand how they happened but I love every single one of them.

17. Mutants!! The new era MCU doesn't have a very good track record but this movie was great and it makes me hopeful that the Mutants will be introduced well into the universe.

18. Also are my standards really low or was this movie actually funny? I laughed a lot the whole way through!

[luneengene2]

Enhypen Members and Their College Majors (+Their 'behavior' at college)

A/N : I made this according to my opinion about the college major they might take 😆

Warnings : Contains Grammar Errors

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

• YANG JUNGWON

|| Faculty of Health / Medical Sciences ||

|| Department: Pediatric Medicine ||

- Jungwon really fits this major, his personality is very adorable.

- If there is practice with children, Jungwon will make parcels containing candy or chocolate so that the children are not afraid of him.

- Will be the lecturer's favorite student because his grades are always good.

- Dreams of opening a free hospital for children.

- The girls who were 'reportedly' close to him usually came from the dentistry department.

• LEE HEESEUNG

|| Faculty of Social Science and Political Science ||

|| Department: Communication Sciences ||

- Will be the most active student regarding issues of debate in the masses, advertising, politics, etc.

- Relatively active in participating in organizations on campus.

- Always arguing with the kids at Law faculty 💀.

- Can be a leader when there is a community demonstration.

- The most updated about the latest news circulating on television, especially those related to advertising.

• PARK JONGSEONG / JAY PARK

|| Faculty of Economics and Business ||

|| Departement: Business Management ||

- The heir to a family company who was told by his father to major in business management to become an expert in managing companies.

- He is targeted by girls on campus because he is rich.

- His father quite often made 'donations' to his campus.

- Go to campus using a BMW 8 The 8 840i Gran Coupe

- Often wears a Rolex watch when going to campus.

• SIM JAEYUN / JAKE SIM

|| Faculty of Social Science and Political Science ||

|| Departement: International Relations ||

- Using his bilingual skills in this major.

- Always the most serious in class and material.

- Often sent to conduct seminars outside campus because he is most fluent in English.

- Most updated about global issues or war.

- Internship at the South Korean Embassy in Australia.

- The lecturer's favorite student because he is the most active among the other students.

• PARK SUNGHOON

|| Faculty of Teacher Training and Education ||

|| Departement: Early Childhood Education Teacher ||

- Sunghoon can be 'close' to children well (I can see him when he was an ice skating teacher with Ben and Will). So, I think this college major is suitable for him.

- Often makes unique handicrafts as learning materials.

- Apprentices at a kindergarten, and becomes a favorite of the children there because of his affectionate personality.

- He is also targeted by girls because he is very fatherable.

- When his internship is over, the children he taught will feel very lost.

- His bag is full of modules and teaching materials.

• KIM SUNOO

|| Faculty of Arts ||

|| Departement: Theater and Drama ||

- One of the students who is good at writing drama scripts.

- Most active in setting up the stage.

- The most cheerful among his friends, that's why he always gets roles with a cheerful character.

- Always chosen to be chairman of the campus committee at festival events, more precisely in the stage arrangement section.

- Often praised by the campus chancellor for his stage management skills.

• NiSHIMURA RIKI

|| Faculty of Engineering ||

|| Mechanical Engineering ||

- The group of boys who are 'bad' on campus, because his emotions like to explode or often cause problems 😮‍💨✌️.

- He rarely goes to class but his grades are always high, so the lecturer certainly can't get angry.

- Always labeled a 'playboy' even though he was only loyal to his girlfriend who was majoring in English literature (Bro, he wants to hit the one who made those stupid rumors).

- Often hangs out at cafes near campus after class is over.

- Riding a ninja motorbike with a full face helmet.

- Targeted by girls too.

[bradshawsbitch]

international | bradley bradshaw x f!reader

disclaimer: y'hello, this is basically me writing down my maladaptive daydream so like yeah. this is somewhere between reader and oc cause I added some shit to the character. this is for my bilingual queens! 'reader' ain't from america, but u h h h yeah! hope you like it still!

word count: 3700.

warnings: cursing - a lot of cursing, mentions of eating meat, mentions of alcoholic beverages, a bit of self doubt if you squint.

plot: you're an international student, currently located in san diego. on a little sight-seeing tour you bump in to mr. hawaii shirt!

part 2

◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇

You almost couldn’t believe your sheer dumb luck. Was it years of hard work that finally paid off? Maybe. Was it divine intervention? Perhaps it was. But you could hardly believe that you had managed to go through the process of applying for an exchange from your University to the one you were currently sat in. Sunny San Diego had always felt like a perfectly good place to explore, and you had painstakingly went through many Universities’, reading their websites and the description of their international programmes. You’d looked at other countries as well, but you had secretly always been quite fascinated with the US - and when you received the e-mail that a university in San Diego could accomodate you, you’d almost screamed out loud back in your home country. 

It had been a few weeks now. The semester had started, the weather was still warm as ever, and you had finally decided that today you would go sight-seeing. Spending the early morning at La Jolla Cove, you looked at the sea lions - marvelling at how cute (albeit smelly) they were, and enjoying taking the scenic route in the beat up, champagne colored, Honda you’d rented. It was automatic - something you weren’t really accustomed to (back at home you always drove a manual). Today was a day off for you, so you felt like you could really do all of the touristy things you hadn’t had the time for since you arrived before the semester started. Sure, you’d spent the first week seeing all the things you felt were important. You’d been to Cheesecake Factory (happily surprised with the hibachi steak you had), you’d been to a baseball game (it was fun! You’d gotten a little pin that said it was your first game), and you’d tried to understand american football - courtesy of a very drunk guy on campus who seemed appalled that you, an international student, did not already know the inns and outs of the game. The memory made you snort out a short laugh. 

By the time lunch rolled around you’d gotten to Old Town, where you drank in the charm of the buildings, looking at trinkets in the shops, and stopping to gaze at the Whaley House. You’d never really been too into true crime, but even you knew about the Whaley House - and despite the warm weather, a chill ran down your spine. Shaking it off, you decided it was definitely time for some lunch. Milling about Old Town, you suddenly spotted a quaint little place that seemed to serve variations of tacos and burritos - which turned out to be the best damn burrito you ever ate in your entire life. 

Continuing the day of sight-seeing, your little Honda puttered further down, weaving in and out of scenic routes and roads. You’d turned off your google maps when you left Old Town, wanting to have some spontaneity in your adventures. After quite some time driving (it was now afternoon, closer to evening), you found a parking spot to claim, where you figured you could continue on foot. Looking around, you’d managed to find a beach, where a small bar sat - music playing softly from within. Heading for the beach, you peeked inside. It seemed as if the woman inside was setting up for the afternoon and night, and it seemed rather empty. Perhaps you’d have a quick swim and have your dinner there. 

You went for a quick swim, enjoying the way the waves cooled your body down and washed away the sweat and grime from having driven and walked around all day. Having a quick dry-off, you swiftly put your clothes on again (only stumbling once when putting on your pants, that’s a win!), and headed for the bar you’d spotted earlier. By now the sky had turned a beautiful shade of red, lilac and blue, as the sun set slowly. Making your way inside the bar, you managed to get the attention of the pretty woman in the bar - standing next to a man with dark hair that she had been talking to. 

“Hi, do you serve food here as well?” you asked with a smile, nodding in acknowledgement to the man sat by the bar. As the woman confirmed your suspicions, you ordered something small and made your way over to the other side of the bar - you didn’t want to seem like you were prying. As your eyes scanned the shelves, seeing some familiar bottles and some unfamiliar bottles of liquor - you suddenly felt a strange need for a drink. You’d driven here though, so a coke would have to do. 

As you waited for your food to arrive, more people were entering the (what you thought was a) quiet bar. Many of them were dressed in khaki. Now, you didn’t exactly have an impeccable sense of fashion - but khaki always made you think of Bella Swan. Her khaki skirt. Sexy, according to S. Meyer. 

Your gaze roamed around to find a blond man throwing darts, his friend trying to mess him up by putting a hand in front of his eyes - to no avail though - it looked like it was a bullseye from where you sat. Looking around further, you spotted a group of people gathered around a pool table - and you almost wished you’d brought a friend, just so that you could play. Of course you could always ask to join, but you felt like you were too shy for that. You never wanted to impose. 

Seeing a beautiful woman in a sleek bun walking in, walking with purpose towards the pool tables had you biting your lip. Why were all these khaki clad people so handsome? Was it a club? Your brows furrowed slightly at your own thoughts. Surely not. 

As your head swivelled to thank the bartender for the food she’d just delivered to you, you noticed the door swinging open, and a tall form walking in. And boy, howdy, were you glad you’d decided to turn your attention to the door.

Never in your life would you have imagined salivating over a man with a hawaiian shirt over the top of a white wife-beater, let alone a man with a fucking moustache. But damn, this dude had obviously won the gene-lottery. A soft uttering of a curse word slipped past your lips in your native language, and the bartender, who had apparently hung around to witness your reaction, couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on your face. 

But like honestly, you felt you were blame-less in this. The man stood tall, with broad shoulders and (when he’d removed his sunglasses) a face that would make a Vogue model envious. In other words, a man that would never in a million years go for you. You sighed, shaking your head slightly, picking up your jaw from the floor, you turned to order a drink from the bartender, only to find that she had moved on down the bar. You could only smile at your own behaviour. You weren’t a teenager anymore! Should a man really make you react like that? A man with a hawaiian shirt at that. 

“That seems awfully dry without a drink,” 

Perhaps you were having an aneurysm. A short-circuit. A power outage? The voice that spoke was soft, but the honeyed tone of his voice alone made you want to shiver. Turning your head yet again, your lips slightly parted in surprise, you were met by the face of Hawaiian shirt God, standing right there next to you. Blinking a couple of times, you took a quick look-around, just to make sure a Victoria's Secret model wasn’t standing right next to you with something dry that he could comment on.

“Uh, are you– are you talking to me?” it might seem like he was, but one could never be too sure. Perhaps he was talking on the phone. Without headphones. You never know! Hawaiian shirt God chuckled and nodded towards your food and your apparent lack of drink. 

“Oh, I drove here!” you smiled “I was going to order a coke but the bartender was too fast for me,” you said in a jovial tone, making sure to not make it seem as if you blamed her. Hawaiian shirt God furrowed his brows, leaning his frame on the bartop, twisting his torso so it was facing you (was it getting hot in here?), with a bewildered look on his face. 

“You know you can have a drink and still drive home right?” you could kick yourself. You were used to the slightly stricter laws from back home.

“Oh,” you uttered softly “I’m not from around here. I’m not used to being allowed to drive if alcohol has even touched my tongue,” you joked, shrugging your shoulders. 

“Could I perhaps buy you something to drink? Coke is allowed,” he smirked and your breath hitched in your throat as you took in his words. He wanted to buy you a— you blinked and took a steadying breath. 

“I– yeah, sure. What’re you having?” you asked, your mind suddenly becoming blank. What did you even like to drink? It was as if you had never had anything to drink ever in your entire life before this. How embarrassing. He answered with the name of a beer you’d never heard of and you wrinkled your nose slightly. The laugh that rolled from his lips was divine. If only you were a stand-up comedian and could make him laugh all the live long day. 

“Not a fan of beer, huh?” he asked, smiling down at your sitting form. You smiled sheepishly, shaking your head as you took your bottom lip in between your teeth to think. 

“Perhaps a glass of wine?” you looked up at him questioningly, and he smiled in response 

“Red or white?” 

“White, please,” you smiled. He nodded and managed to make eye-contact with the bartender, who swiftly helped him with the drinks. 

“Thank you so much–” you raised an eyebrow, your tone insinuating you wanted a name for Hawaiian shirt God. 

“Rooster,” 

Hold on. What? Like the animal? 

“R-Rooster?” you were trying your damn best not to laugh. Laughing would feel like an insult to this poor kids’ parents. You knew some Americans liked to name their children eccentric things, but you figured that was mostly Hollywood. 

His booming laughter at the way you hesitantly stuttered his name had your cheeks warm with embarrassment, and you averted your gaze down to your finished plate of food.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, my name’s Bradley. I’ve gotten so used to being called Rooster so– I figured not too many civilians would find their way into the Hard Deck,” he smiled, and it seemed as if he was trying his hardest not to seem like he was mansplaining his name to you. Bradley. Alright, maybe his parents did love him after all.

“Oh, well thank you then, Bradley,” you smiled uncertainly “and uh- well I guess I am a civilian, I’ve been sight-seeing all day so you might even smack me in the face with ‘tourist’ as well if you want,” you joked. Again, that chuckle was endearing as all hell. You had no idea what he meant by civilian, but you didn’t want to seem any more dumb by asking what he meant by that. 

He searched your face for a little while, letting silence fall between the two of you for a short moment - a moment where you yet again could hear the background noise, the drunk singing, the cheering for the people who played pool (you guessed this is why people were cheering, but you were also quite certain you’d heard a bell being rung as well). And in the midst of the noise, you could vaguely make out words of conversations that happened around you - catching words such as ‘naval’, ‘officer’ and ‘lieutenant’. 

“Ohh,” you uttered softly, understanding, quickly checking out a person wearing khaki who passed by you. Of course. It was a uniform! You figured the woman who wore her hair in a tight bun was just a woman who wanted to flaunt her immaculate cheekbones, but now it seemed more likely that they were probably military. How did this always manage to happen to you?

“Are you in the army?” you blurted out, and he at first looked amused, but then borderline offended. Shit. Did you do the ol’ foot-in-mouth now? You knew absolutely nothing about the US military, you didn’t even know shit about your military back home. 

“I’m a naval aviator,” he responded with a small smile, his body language telling you he wasn’t all too keen to brag. Even though it was undoubtedly impressive. 

“I’m sorry– I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. I know I joked about being a tourist earlier but I sort of am - I mean, I’m an international student–” you were struggling to find words that didn’t make you sound unbelievably stupid, but sometimes when you had to talk fast, it was as if all the english you’d ever learnt fell out of your vocabulary, and you wanted nothing more than to blurt out some familiar words from your native language. 

“Are you old enough to be in here?” he asked as you mentioned you were a student. Now it was your turn to be offended. You were nearing your thirties thank you very much. 

“I’m working towards a master of science, so I’m definitely old enough to be in here, thanks” you explained, narrowing your eyes slightly at him, a smirk playing on your lips. He smiled at you again before sipping his beer. 

“I never caught your name, sweetheart,” he continued.

“You never asked,” you replied, only slightly letting your tone hint at flirting as you sipped your wine, keeping eye contact with him over the rim of your wine glass. 

“I’m asking now,” God, the way his voice had lowered and became slightly husky should be illegal. You could feel your body react unceremoniously to the sound of his voice, and you had to lick your lower lip as you pondered how to answer. Should you say your name with like, an American accent? Should you say it as you would usually at home? 

You settled on the latter. You didn’t have the confidence to pronounce it like an American would.  

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that?” you repeated it, slowly, and jokingly said that he was allowed to call you your nickname if he was in a hurry. He laughed at that. You enjoyed making him laugh. His eyes looked so pretty when they lit up in the dim bar-light. 

You smiled up at him, and you were just about to initiate another topic of conversation, when his name was called from across the bar.

“Rooster, is this how I find out you’re state-side?” It was the beautiful woman with a tight bun. Damn. 

“I’m sorry, would you excuse me for a second?” he smiled at you, and seemed glad to have seen his friend. You nodded quickly “Absolutely!” 

And he was gone. Fuck. That was the most exhilarating experience you’d had in a while and you’d let him slip away! It wasn’t as if he was going to drag you out back and take you against the wall (but damn if he wanted to you wouldn’t say no), but still - you had liked how confidently he’d approached you and how sweet he had been about buying you something to drink. You stared at said drink now, swirling the wine slowly in the glass that was now half full - you took a sip as your eyes wandered across the room. The bar had a warm, familiar feeling - even though this was your first time being there. You wouldn’t mind spending more time here. Perhaps they were looking for help - you had bartended before. 

Shaking your head, you took another sip of your wine. Rooster had said you could drive home after a drink, but you felt like perhaps it would be wise to wait a little while after finishing your drink before you hit the roads. But now you didn’t have the company of Bradley to keep you occupied, and you heaved a small sigh as you brought out your phone to scroll through social media, checking your instagram story from earlier during the day. 

Suddenly, the familiar sound of ‘Slow Ride’ was cut short, and you heard the soft notes of a piano being played. Looking up, you quickly found that the source of the sounds was Bradley, his shade having slid down to rest on his nose. Jesus, was he aware what the hell he was doing? Probably. He smiled as he spotted you, and you couldn’t help but smiled back before he turned his attention to the people standing around him as he started to sing. 

This motherfucker needed to slow down. If he wasn’t careful he’d catch a wife. With a voice like that, his endearing approach and fucking insane looks he was surely very popular. If he even mentioned he liked literature or cuddling, you’d be done for. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you muttered, downing the rest of your wine in one go, letting the glass hit the bartop with a bit more force than you’d first intended. A familiar laughter permeated the air, and the bartender woman was stood in front of you again - ready to collect your glass. No doubt she needed it clean for the next round of costumers. 

“He’s something, isn’t he?” she smiled at you, and you could only nod.

“Is he always like this?” you inquired and she laughed again. 

“Well, I haven’t seen him in quite a while but yeah, I think so,” she smiled at you “But I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him buy anyone a drink quite this quick before,” she winked at you, making your cheeks warm up again. 

“Hey, would you ever need help around here?” you found the courage to ask “I’ve bartended before, and I make a mean whiskey sour,” you smiled. She pondered your offer for a while before answering,

“Let me think on it. Why don’t you come in tomorrow and we can talk about it?” you nodded and thanked her. 

The smile on the bartenders lips widened (Penny, you found out her name was,) as her gaze lifted from you, to something above and behind you. Furrowing your brows, you twisted around to see Bradley stood behind you again. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Sorry about that,” he smiled at you. Damn. He found you again?

“Don’t… worry about it,” it almost sounded like a question.

“You up for a game of pool?” he questioned, before ordering another beer “More wine?” he asked you, leaning slightly over you, letting his arm brush against yours. 

“I probably shouldn’t…” you trailed off, biting your lip in contemplation.

“Come on… stay a while,” he smiled softly at you, his brown eyes twinkling all prettily again. 

“Alright then, but I can buy my own drink,” you insisted, but he just shook his head. 

Spending time with Bradley felt as easy as breathing, and as the two of you played together, you made easy conversation. Turned out he was quite fond of literature (fuck), and that he was quite fascinated by your field of study (fuckin’ hell). As you missed your third shot, a colorful curse word slipped past your lips and Bradley laughed loudly. 

“I can’t believe I missed that!” you complained, throwing your head back, agitated. You were not necessarily a sore loser, but you felt like you were pretty alright at the game and could do better. 

“You didn’t have the angle quite down,” Bradley said with a shrug, and you narrowed your eyes playfully. 

“Oh, show me how it’s done then,” you mocked him, offering him the table. 

“Yeah, I think I will,” he smirked, grabbing a hold of your arm, and placing himself behind you - his chest pressed against your back. For the umpteenth time that night, your breath was hitched somewhere in between your lungs and your mouth. You could feel rather than hear Bradley chuckle against you, his lips now close to your ear as he whispered “More like this,” before stepping slightly to your side, one hand on your hip to lean you over the pool table. Fuck. Fucking fuck. With Bradley’s help, unfortunately you made the shot perfectly. Straightening up, you turned slowly, facing Bradley’s chest before looking up at him.

“That was good, sweetheart,” he praised. Jesus. Your thighs were clenching against your will and you had to swallow before an airy laugh slipped past your lips. You were so close. One of his hands still rested on your hips, the other now rising slowly to brush a strand of hair out of your face - helping it rest behind your ear. The tips of his fingers ghosting against your neck. Holy crap. You hoped he’d kiss you. His eyes searched yours, a small smile playing on his lips, and it felt as if he was inching closer to you. 

Suddenly the cleaning lights unceremoniously lit up the bar. Damn. You hadn’t even noticed the last call. You swore you heard Bradley utter a soft “fuck” but you might’ve imagined it. 

There was a general stir, as people hurried to finish their drinks and make their way out of the bar. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Penny called to you, and you smiled and nodded towards her before turning back to Rooster, who had taken a step away from you. Damn.

“You’re coming here tomorrow?” he asked and you nodded, smiling at him like he hung the moon. 

“Hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he inquired as the two of you made your way out of the bar and out in to the chilly night.

“But uh… just in case I don’t… could I maybe have your phone number?” he continued hurriedly. You blinked slowly, before a large grin found its’ way onto your lips. 

“Yeah!” you exclaimed breathlessly, holding your hand out for his phone. He smiled as you put in your contact, and the two of you just smiled awkwardly for a moment before parting ways. 

God, what a great adventure you’d had - you thought as you giggled and danced your way back to your Honda, giddy after having given Rooster your number. You were looking forward to spending more time at the Hard Deck if it meant meeting Bradley more.

[dailydemonspotlight]

Arahabaki - Day 75

Race: Kunitsu

Arcana: Hermit

Alignment: Light-Chaos

July 19th, 2024

I'm sure that, when one thinks of the SMT or Persona franchise, one of the first demons/personas to pop up in their mind is that of a towering clay figure who reflects physical. A lot of Arahabaki is famously shrouded in mystery, and the clouds over this deity paint it in a confusing, albeit fascinating, light. First of all, for this DDS, I'd like to point you all to @yamayuandadu's fantastic breakdown of this demon. While I'm going to be using my own sources for the most part, a lot of the stuff in this is based roughly on her analysis. Feel free to give her a follow, even though me shouting her out is like a drop in the ocean.

Now, on to Arahabaki itself. Almost everything about this god is unknown- even its design, taken directly from a clay figurine known as a Dogū, seems only vaguely connected to the idea of Arahabaki itself through a book known as Tsugaru Soto Sangunshi, as discovered by the blog above. As described in the post, most of everything related to Tsugaru Soto Sangunshi is heavily fictionalized, as it was a series of forgeries from 'ancient Japanese history' that seems... mostly to connect to a conspiracy of ancient aliens, at least from what I can understand? That might just be the blog post I've linked, though, as information on these forgeries is scant; there are very few translations, and, in fact, as gone over in the post above, there was only one at the time of writing, and it wasn't very reliable.

According to Tsugaru Soto Sangunshi, and recanted by @yamayuandadu, Dogū were purported to represent an 'outlawed god' worshipped by the people of Tohoku, though, of course, this all comes down to nothing but a set of forgeries. A lot of information on Arahabaki can be hard to sift through, and while there are some sources, most of them are of questionable reliability. Sorry, Fandom wiki. As a matter of fact, it's believed that Arahabaki may not even exist, and after reading the aforementioned post, I'm starting to think that may be the case. Unfortunately, as someone who can't even read Japanese, many of the sources mentioned have been hard to definitely state and/or translate. It's times like this I wish I was bilingual... still, even if Arahabaki was a fake god, where did its concept originate from past TSS, and what even was it? As I said during my Alice DDS, I believe that everything must have a concretely traceable source, and besides, even if this god was just some guy's creative writing project, I still think it'd be worthwhile to look into.

A lot can be derived from Arahabaki's name- a theory purported in this article states that, as Habaki is based on the root Haha, meaning snake, Arahabaki may be based on some sort of snake deity, fitting in with its inherently rebellious nature. Other theories purported in the article state that it may have been enshrined for protection, to it possibly being a hitherto unknown god of iron production.

Needless to say, a lot is unknown about this deity, but I believe that, if it's truly a fictionalized god, it may be based on 'Amatsu-Mikaboshi,' a rebel god identified with the Pole Star of Venus and who struck out against the gods. However, this is a very far reach, and I genuinely think that one could identify Arahabaki with any sort of rebellious god.

The outlawing of worship is also of note, but from all of my research, I can't find anything about a deity in particular being outlawed- instead, almost everything I can find about it comes down to a general fear of foreigners, which wouldn't make any sense for a god who was apparently home-grown in Japan. Expanding on this point, it connects to the concept of sakoku, the isolationism of Edo period Japan that locked itself off from the rest of the world.

This brings me to, eventually, as all things do, Bungo Stray Dogs. I'm not kidding. To my knowledge, the manga references Arahabaki as a character in it, and this blog post that unfortunately uses a dead link as a source seems to paint a picture of Arahabaki as a god who was worshipped in 300 AD, but was eventually outlawed, as he represented rebellion. If this sounds like I'm talking in circles, it's because I am. To quote,

Arahabaki was worshipped all along Japan’s northern regions. He was the god of defiance and prowess and he was even used a figure for wars that would erupt. He soon began to become an evil figure in 300 AD, when a prince, Nagasunehiko started to worship him to the point where he became crazy, thinking the god was forever by his side. Being an enemy of the Emperor Jimmu, most of Japans’ people say this as a bad sign and started to think of Nagasunehiko and his god Arahabaki as a symbol of deceit and marked the god more of a devil than a sign of good luck. The god was said to look more like a creature than a human form. With large alien like eyes and a sturdy body made of strong iron, he looked more like a rock had come to life than one of flesh and blood.

I genuinely don't know if this source can be trusted, and I'll above all take the word of the blog post I keep referencing back to of it likely being a false god made up for a forgery so some guy could make millions quick, but it's a shame. I was so close to getting some sort of lead, and it ended up being a dead link... agony is the only word to describe it. I don't feel like I got much out of this, as my curiosity is still piqued... but alas, I've come to a dead end.

If any more of you have any possible sources or leads, please don't hesitate to come out with them. Unfortunately, given the relative obscurity of the god itself, and how infamous its own mystery is... I doubt I'll get any major breakthroughs any time soon. Huge thank you to @yamayuandadu and @bsd-bibliophile for the work that went into this god. Alas, I get out with only empty pockets. As for how it's portrayed in SMT, it's an incredibly accurate depiction of a Dogū- given the purported connection between Arahabaki and Dogū's, it makes sense that they would take inspiration from the clay figures representing Japanese deities, to say the least.

Overall, though, I wish I had more to go over here, but the lack of primary sources and revelations of fraud give light only to disappointment. Alas. At least it was fun to research!

[sighonaraa]

tagged by the brilliant @jamiesfootball and the stunning @lady-of-the-spirit and the gorgeous @abubblingcandle! thank you all for the tag MWAH <3

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

11

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

120,102

3. what fandoms do you write for?

ted lasso (quick everybody act surprised), daredevil (i WILL get back to that fic i prommy), thor & loki, and uh. i haven't posted anything yet but somehow succession got me to care very deeply about billionaires so. watch this space............

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

It's the Great Father's Day, Ted Lasso (ted lasso)

It's the Great Valentine's in May, Colin Hughes (ted lasso)

hear you calling from some lost and distant shore (thor & loki)

and do not recognize us as we pass (ted lasso)

It's the Great Moving Away, Sam Obisanya (ted lasso)

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

I DO. I KNOW THIS SOUNDS LIKE A LIE AND THAT IS BECAUSE IT IS. i have been woefully bad at catching up with responding to comments........... however i will fix this once school gets out.

6. what's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

hmmm. despite the fact that my fics tend to be Incredibly Angsty, they almost all end with deep and abiding sappiness. i suppose at the moment the sun is only a God if you learn to starve has the angstiest ending, although that's mostly just because it only has the one singular chapter atm.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

probably It's the Great Father's Day, Ted Lasso! i love that ending very very much.

8. do you get hate on fics?

thankfully not yet!! pls be nice to me im This Tiny (i am not short at all) (be nice to me anyways)

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

i have not! maybe one day, possibly, but i'm very [blushing] about writing that right now lmfao.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

i haven't written any crossovers before! i tend more towards AUs (as we can attest)

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

as far as i'm aware, nope!

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

no but if anyone ever wants to, i'm so incredibly down for that

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

no! BUT! i would LOVE to! come to my dms and let's brainstorm.

14. what's your all-time favourite ship?

all of my favorite characters/therapy. tbh.

15. what's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

i will finish every WIP i've posted a chapter of because i will. this is my Brave Face Mantra. in terms of ones i want to finish in my head.... the ted lasso s3 fix it will hopefully eventually happen but not for A While.

16. what are your writing strengths?

hrm. hrngh. i hate complimenting myself. people have told me i have a good grasp of character voices and also prose? so? [throws that at you and runs away]

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i am THEE absolute worst at describing settings/environments. i'm not a visual reader at all which translates into not being a visual writer and it's just. urgh. HELP.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

hell yea! most of the characters i've written for so far have been mostly english-speaking, but for characters who are bilingual (dani, sam, richard) i try to include phrases in their native language they would use. if i were to ever write a lot of dialogue in another language, i'd probably give an in-narrative translation, or just stick 'em in the end notes.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

when i was 12 and infinity war came out i was so distraught that i wrote like 10 fix it fics and none of them will ever see the light of day.

20. favourite fic you've ever written?

and do not recognize us as we pass & find a new place to be from! yes i cheated and chose two.

tagging! not sure who has and who hasn't done it yet so! @altschmerzes @jamietarttsnorthernattitude @iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid @thirteenemeraldcats @nativestarwrites @orbitalpirate + absolutely anybody else who would like to participate and use me as their tagger! MWAH <3

[all-things-normaler]

i wanna write fanfics but i'm not sure how to keep everyone in character and to write normal dialogue. do you have any advice? thank you!

Okay so, I've written fanfiction and roleplayed for nine years, and I know it's scary and hard at first, but eventually with enough practice, writing will become as easy as breathing air.

First thing I do is envision the scene in my mind, like a movie! What's the setting? The mood? What kind of characters are here? What's the plot? Materialize all of this in your brain and do not force yourself to make dialogue, it'll come up to you naturally. Think of yourself as the actor for all these characters, feel their emotions, study their motives, backgrounds, passions and even body mannerisms.

If you're dealing with a pairing or characters that correlate with each other, try to think. What are their similarities and opposites? Are they really all that similar or is it one or two few traits? This is where the Venn Diagram comes in! That's the method I've been taught at school, and honestly, I could make a list but the Venn Diagram helps me visualize things better. To be honest I have sharp memory to things I'm fixated in, so I don't do it physically, but it's very useful! And YES, while studying these characters annotate everything that could be useful in writing dialogue.

Do they have an accent? A lisp? Is there any vocabulary depending of where they were raised?

I have things to say about these things in dialogue and the first two are more personal and up to my taste.

Personally when people write "accents" that aren't like Country or Irish accents that actually have different words in the vocabulary, when you replace the letters to make the "sound" and in a way create new words, not only does it look messy, it IS messy to read! It's an unfortunate phenomenon in the Team Fortress 2 Fandom lol.

EXAMPLE: "Viz is not good. Vhat was a vad decision."

For these instances, use regional words and spellings for the dialogue, it says much more than what I've told you. Are they british? Use words like "favourite" instead of "favorite" etc. Trust me, the readers aren't dumb people, you can do ONE paragraph describing that your character has an accent and they would understand.

I think my gripe against that style of writing isn't only aesthetically but also because I'm bilingual (my native tongue being Spanish) so honestly, it would look a little offensive reading a fanfiction where my type of accent is typed like that.

When writing bilingual people ALSO avoid this:

Like prideling said, that one's a big example of what bilingual people do. Even in their own native language! I constantly forget to say "accurate" in Spanish lmao.

And we do not "switch" languages, we aren't Dora The Explorer. We can greet and talk normally to people. Only times I'd say bilinguals happen to jump back at their native tongue accidentally it's when they're surprised? It's happened to me, but for a very short time. Bilingual readers prefer to be represented with the struggles of knowing two languages and showcasing their culture throughout descriptive paragraphs over anything.

Anyway, moving on... DIALOGUE!

This is a classic. Do NOT get comfortable with the verb said. Try using other words like: exclaimed, announced, warned, shouted, whispered, etc!

The more you write, the more you'll learn about these verbs, adverbs and adjectives and it'll come handy tremendously. We don't want to have too much repetition do we?

I am also handing you this emotion wheel that will be incredibly useful if you're starting writing:

Speaking of repetition... Remember that thing I said about studying your characters? Try to avoid too much repetition of one word between the two characters. As you may have noticed people have a cadence and ways of speaking. If you do that a lot, people will break from the immersion and think it's you who's talking, not the character.

Another classic! SHOW, DON'T TELL.

If you're into writing, you'll probably have heard this saying before. All writers have committed this sin when they started writing, using adverbs and adjectives too obsessively instead of narrating how the character feels.

Is your character anxious? How about instead of doing:

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! What am I supposed to do now!?” He anxiously exclaimed.

We do...

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He tightly gripped onto his jet black hair and ripped it from his scalp into shreds. Pain was the last thing he cared about when a bigger torture was on his mind. His chest constricted, his lungs having less oxygen filled with hot air. The corners of his eyes burned, and his brain constantly banged to the corners of his skull begging to free it from this horrible outcome. The man started to lose his senses, he couldn't smell the horrible stench from his machines, or feel the bottom of his feet anxiously walking in circles, his fingers were getting tingly and numb. Onceler couldn't even see the insides of his destroyed mansion and the deforestation he caused from his window. All of it was a blur and too much too handle, the weight of his actions fell into his mind and stomach, forever scarred and stuck like that last stump in the middle of what used to be a vibrant Truffula Tree forest.

“What am I supposed to do now!?” He scratched his knotted throat as loud as he could, ripping his vocal chords. It didn't matter if he could hear himself now, he didn't listen to his real soul in the past, and now, no one will listen to him now. No matter how much he begged for help.

Alright, that was a little big example there haha! But you get it right? Here's a picture to help you visualize better.

Mind you, the first example isn't bad to use! Just don't constantly use it. It's good to show a story throughout the actions of your character!

Alright, what else... what else... oh yes!

Be mindful of spellchecking bots!

I'll be honest to you, I do use them! They come incredibly handy because sometimes I mess up verbs or I just simply add too many spaces or create typos without meaning to! But remember that bots are bots, and at the end of the day they don't have humanity. They're AI. Therefore, these bots might make suggestions to change certain words because they don't recognize it as part of the vocabulary, but if you do click on everything they suggest, your dialogue will become very robotic and lacking of stylization. Keep those peepers open!

Use a beta reader?

I never had one. To me, writing is a very personal thing and for me to have one, they would have to share the same fandom that I'm writing of to be trustworthy. Beta Readers can be useful because they can point out mistakes other than spelling ones. Something the bots CANNOT do. They can point out weird things in dialogue, plot holes, etc.

Learn of your narration voice.

The way you narrate is your brush strokes of art but in writing! What type of a narrator are you? The unreliable type? The classic? Or just a narrator with a god complex? Have fun with that! And remember, if you want to narrate not as a narrator or yourself but as one of the characters, REMEMBER to study the character. Basically, the first tip I gave you.

Stuttering.

Don't overuse it. And we don't always stutter like: "b-b-but!" NO! Instead, try slurring the words, and adding ellipsis (the three dots ...)

Not only is it more realistic, but it looks better on writing.

This image is something I struggle with too, but it'll be useful to see it now!

Honestly, my path for writing has been rocky and I raw-dogged this shit, so it's an honor being able to help you! If you ever have any doubts keep coming here! I love to get in more depth, but I've been making this post for like an hour already!

I think that's all I can give you for now! Lots of people that have read my fanfics and roleplays have pointed out that dialogue is my forte! It's rather flattering. As always, I don't give tips or boast about my writing without evidence, so here's a snippet of a Normaler fanfic I'm writing:

“I brought you some things. Water and a towel. Hopefully that's enough.” She handed him the materials and he gladly took them, opening the water bottles and damping the towels.

“Thanks. It's tomatoes. I doubt there's a lot to get me dirty with those.” He chuckled awkwardly, before rushing to rub the towel against his cheek.

Norma smiled, raising her eyebrows.

“I take it that you're a foreigner?”

“You can tell?”

“Your accent. Yeah.” Norma stretched her legs as she sat next to him. “You're one of those cowboys?” She grinned back at the man.

The Once-ler laughed, and my... did he have a goofy laugh. Not what she expected.

“I wish. It sounds like fun, but where I come from, rural life is pretty boring.” He continued to rub the towel against his clothes.

“Greenville doesn't like foreigners.” She explained bluntly. “They always come here with bad intentions.” She furrowed her eyebrows with a teasing smirk, causing the Once-ler to dramatically gasp, a hand on his chest.

“B-But I ain't coming here with bad intentions!”

[the-nosy-neighbor]

Sunny

Information and speculation about a concept that Clown has made clear is no longer part of the project.

Notes gathered from Tumblr/Clown’s posts:

Was a bird character in early stages of development for WH.  Sunny was a brazilian (?) bird that was bilingual.  He was pictured with maracas.  

Sunny was dating Frank, which leads everyone to say that Sunny is Frank’s ex.

Sunny had a bright and friendly personality, and served as a foil to Wally.

Wally would have eventually murdered Sunny to hide his secrets.  

Clown stated that Sunny was created as a sort of hero character, but over time, Clown believed that the story shouldn’t have a hero. 

Sunny would save everyone by exposing Wally.  

Concept photos show Sunny on the phone, as a foil to Frank (opposites)

On the sticker sheet, Sunny’s name is upside down, which led my partner to turn the image upside down, which gives us a 9 instead of the 6 we were looking at.

Partner also mentioned that the other characters are holding their numbers, but Sunny’s is in his mouth.

We wondered if Sunny wasn’t going to be resurrected and become the 9th neighbor or a ghost or something, but Clown has been very insistent that Sunny is gone and no longer part of the project. (in light of conversations tonight, I might have been speculating about the wrong neighbor as a ghost)

Could Clown be throwing us off?

 “Some say Home is the 9th neighbor” some say because others say Sunny was the 9th neighbor?

Edit: the guestbook has a comment that says "where did the 9th neighbor go?"

But, there is a phone without an owner and it looks old and beat up (also, made of wood).  Could this be Sunny’s phone?  The phone/card illustration (opposites) shows him on a red phone, and he is #6, where Frank is 3 (also yellow).  

I’m not sure if the you’re free/i’m sorry graphic is Clown’s.  It really looks like their style and resembles art I have seen of Frank (insert image of Frank with female hands in front of him) and also Wally (hand coming out of his mouth)

You’re Sunny, You’re Free:  This image shows Sunny looking heroic, obviously behind some kind of door, with each character’s hands touching him.  Could be in fear, supplication, pushing?  The lightened image shows the many sets of eyes on this guy. 

Looks like the notes on Sunny's shirt

On the site, one of the first pictures in the roll was an ad for some Playfellow products, with a blank spot and letter write overs.  Let me tell you, from the beginning I have been obsessed with clarifying some of these images, and I have learned how to use photoshop way better as a result of my obsession:

When I first manipulated this image, I was convinced that there was some kind of Moon-headed guy there in the dark.  I could see a crescent moon shape.  I was convinced (and I wrote some about) that there was some kind of moon character to balance out Sally’s character, as there are sun and moon combos around.  

But when I really started thinking about Sunny, I looked at this and thought, not a crescent moon, a beak.  Sunny was pushed out of this ad, because he was pushed out of the show/reality/whatever.  Sally comes in as his replacement.  For the life of me, I can’t think of why Clown wouldn’t have just called the new character Sunny.  After all, she is the sun.  

This could all be wishful thinking because I really like this character.  When compared with the other characters, Sunny is fun and cool.  Plus, Sally is an actor who came in on a deus ex machina (fell from the sky, OK).  She is another kind of petty and weird character who just replaced this other guy, almost like an actor in a recast role.  

Sunny image/ad for fisher price people style toy.  The neighborhood exists and the children have seen it.

“The Neighborhood”; Sunny.  The Neighborhood’s happiest little blue bird flies in with a dance in his heart!  It’s like he’s really here!  So we’re going to get rid of it for good! We’re all going to get rid of it! we’re going to get rid of it for good! We’re all going to get rid of it! we’re going to get rid of it for good! We’re all going to get rid of it! we’re going to get rid of it for good! We’re all going to get rid of it! You’re  going to get rid of it for good! We’re all going to get rid of it! You’re  going to get rid of it for good! We’re all going to get rid of it!  You’re  going to get rid of it for good! We’re all going to get rid of it!

I think it is very possible that Sunny will make another appearance. Maybe he will only appear as a memory.  

[servantofclio]

Favorite books I read in 2023

I saw @asaara-writes missing my book posts, and looked back through my tags, and indeed I haven't done any in a while.

Also I seem to have kind of gotten out of the habit of posting on tumblr at all? I'm not sure what's up with that, I am definitely here pretty much every day!

It looks like I talked about books in some meme responses at Christmas, so let's go with:

THINGS CLIO READ: 2023 EDITION

Here are brief notes on things I read and enjoyed (not a complete list of things I have read this year):

Fonda Lee, Jade Legacy: Sequel to Jade City and Jade War and concludes the trilogy, and what a conclusion! The world and timeframe of the series just keeps expanding and delivers character arcs and an ending I found immensely satisfying.

T. Kingfisher, Illuminations: The author in young-adult mode, featuring a family who create magic through painted images. When a long-hidden family secret gets out, it could mess up everything, unless they can put their heads together and figure out a solution. Charmingly quirky and lovable characters, highly enjoyable.

Max Gladstone, Dead Country: I am totally here for more Craft Sequence always. This book takes our original heroine Tara Abernathy home again, older and more experienced. Really interesting to return to her close first-person perspective after several multi-perspective books, and very cool to see her now in a mentoring role.

Fonda Lee, The Jade Setter of Janloon: Novella set in the Green Bone universe, this gives us a great look at the world from the point of view of someone on the edges of the Green Bones' conflicts.

Kate Elliott, Furious Heaven: The second volume of her "gender-flipped Alexander the Great in space" series. I feel like I never see anyone talking about this, and I think she's doing great things with the characters and a sprawling space opera setting. This book left me really curious how far she's going to follow Alexander's historical career.

R. F. Kuang, Babel: This book is incredible. Magic here revolves around translation, and so a young Chinese boy is adopted by a British scholar and raised to be fluently bilingual; eventually he is sent to the great translation center in 19th-century Oxford. Here he and his peers, however, find themselves at the core engine of British imperialism, with all the ethical dilemmas that come with it. The book really captures the joy and camaraderie that can come through scholarship, but also has very sharp things to say about imperialism and exploitation. Intensely emotional, I'm happy to provide warnings/spoilers if desired.

Ann Leckie, Translation State: A much lighter take on translation, this is set in the Imperial Radch universe and, to my delight, explores what's up with the incredibly weird Presger translators. I don't really want to give anything more away; this was a really fun ride.

Arkady Martine, Rose/House: Super creepy novella involving a famous architect's AI-controlled house. Tons of mood and atmosphere.

Katherine Addison, The Witness for the Dead and The Grief of Stones: Two books picking up one of the side characters from The Goblin Emperor (which is also wonderful) and following his new routine. Thara Celehar's ability to touch a dead person and see their memories puts him in a role of problem-solver and sometime-investigator. These books are wonderfully humane and surround the protagonist with an array of compelling friends, colleagues, and clients.

All of these are recommended!

[madebyteenagefury]

have you made the house md ocs yet?

so, about that!

short answer: yes! yea i have :D

longer answer: yeaaa i did but.. making oc is always tough for me because i never seem to get attached enough to them to keep pushing through and developing them. being the only fan in a fandom where YOU have to create the source material is not really my jam haha. i have much more fun engaging with other peoples oc’s and characters from existing media.

but for you, i’ll commit to making a proper sheet for him. for now, here’s a little (very bare bones) overview of my guy!

introducing Max! he’s 33 (at the time of season one, based on my hopefully correct math of everyone else’s ages.) and an elementary teacher! he exists in the same universe as @privatehousesanatomy ‘s oc kadee. he lives in the same apartment building as her and house, which is how they become friends at first! he does graphic design on the side and while his family helped put him through school for his bachelors in elementary education he’s hoping putting himself through for a masters in graphic design. he comes from an asian background (his family is from the middle east, they immigrated in the late 70’s) and he is bilingual (i love any excuse to use my family’s language in my fandoms, an oc you can project on is the perfect way lol) he loves listening to classical music while he draws, his favorite things to draw are still life and portraits. he is an only child. a little physical description of him; he’s got chase ish length thick black wavy hair (difference between their haircuts is that max’s bangs are longer so they go down to his chin) which he usually pins back, dark brown eyes, an oval face, he’s about 5’10

here are some VERY early, on the fly sketches of him (both when i was in artblock AND i lost my sketchbook for a hot minute hence the lined paper😭double whammy)

the one on the left, those marks around max’s eye are where i erased glasses many times. originally he was going to have glasses but it’s not been set in stone, idk if i’ll keep them (yes that is wilson, i heavily referenced a @/noahdea.art drawing and ran with it, second one was just me messing around fully pulled out my ass that’s why it looks a lil jank but wtvr)

so yeah that’s kinda all i have of him! thanks for sending in that ask @former-lurker it pushed me to flesh him out just a little more. y’all pls feel free to ask me more about him and just lmk what you think!! this was actually super fun and helps/encourages me to delve into him and his world a bit more each time and who knows maybe this one will finally stick.

[keepthisholykiss]

okay but what was the horatio-heavy hamlet version you were watching?

Hello dear anon, I have to admit I do not know what you are referring to. I have been studying, watching, and posting about Hamlet and Hamlet/Horatio heavy productions for some time. My best guess is that you're referring to a post I made the other night but just in case :D I present my master post of available Hamlet/Horatio heavy productions. Important to note: my definition of a "Hamlet/Horatio heavy" production is one that gives any emphasis to that character relationship, even if it is still a vague concept. There are more productions in that category than I could ever name so here are just a few favs. If anyone wants me to I can do a master post on all my fav Hamlet productions by vibe or something? Because I don't just love a Hamlet for its Hamlet/Horatio vibes. Let me know if y'all want that!! All of these productions are ones I have enjoyed and referenced in conference presentations and my upcoming work on the parallels between Horatio and Juliet (stay tuned I can probably post this soon) as well as my upcoming PhD work on Hamlet in general

To Listen To: Hamlet (English and Spanish Bilingual) Directed by Ana María Campoy - Hands down my favorite Hamlet production I have ever consumed any part of. The best Hamlet/Horatio dynamic that you can just feel as you listen. I love this production and cast so much everyone please listen to it.

To Read: "To Tell Our Storie" a reflection on a queer Hamlet written by Thys Heydenrych - This is a paper I reference a lot in my work when discussing sexuality and Hamlet. It's a very good retrospective on a queer man's queer Hamlet with very explicit Hamlet/Horatio implications. I love this scholarship its fantastic.

To Watch: Hamlet (Spanish) Directed by Roberto Ángeles - This production has a pretty explicit Hamlet/Horatio vibe. Very big emphasis on Horatio's importance to the plot and just overall a very good production. I think everyone should watch more Spanish language theatre always, but especially this. Hamlet (Spanish) Directed by Marcelo Katz - This is another Hamlet/Horatio-y one. Personally I really only enjoyed the Horatio performance and it is far from my favorite take on the play. No big script changes but the set was gorgeous and it was fun regardless. The Globe Hamlet (2018 English) Directed by Federay Holmes & Elle While - A classic with one of my favorite Horatio's I've ever seen onstage. If you haven't watched Michelle Terry's Hamlet you really have to. RSC Hamlet (2016 English) Directed by Simon Godwin - Another that I would consider on the more subtle side but that still achieves its goal. Asta Nielsen Hamlet (German unless someone has the English sub one floating around) - A take on Hamlet inspired by my favorite (/s) essayist Edward P. Vining that does canonically have a Hamlet/Horatio relationship.

[suenitos]

Share some of those dnf actors au fics with the class

hii anon ^^ i know its a bit late but here are some ones i personally liked

you know (you'll always know me) - sweeterthanandy

definitely super alternate universe, the premise is george is a famous semi washed up actor who goes back to his hometown in missouri to film a movie that could bring back his career, where dream has been waiting for him after he left, now owner of a coffee shop they frequented as teenagers. i actually hadn't read this before but i liked it! the worldbuilding was easily the best part for me and i like dnfs characterizations in this one

requiem for an idiot in love - orphaned

dnf meet as small actors during an audition, becoming friends, falling into domesticity and getting casted together with everyone on set thinking they're a couple until they end up together. super cute, one note is i dont like how the writer wrote q's dialogue (not a super major character but there), it's very babys first bilingual character but it's easy to ignore he's there lol. love the dnf dynamic here

television static - effervescentlies

dnf are actors who don't get along until they get cast as the main lead lovers in a movie, slowly falling for each other after the director recognizes their natural chemistry on set. REALLY good i think the writing style is awesome and i love coming back to it

the star that looks at me - elytrabun

actor george gets assigned a bodyguard, dream, who he eventually warms up to and falls for after initially disapproving of having a bodyguard. this one is much more focused on the bodyguard and relationship development aspects but i still like it, although im not obsessed with the emotional climax. cozy read though

hop inside (come see my movie) - orphaned

dnf notting hill au where dream is a famous actor who visits georges small bookshop in london and they run into each other, falling into a whirlwind romance. ive rec'ed this one before, i just love the dynamics between george and the rest of the characters (kq warning) but most of all dream. if you know the plot of notting hill you already know how it goes but i think the dnf dynamic is what sets this fic apart from the source material

nepotism, baby! - hayloftown

george is a famous nepotism actor who gets sent to dreams family's farm by his father to lay low in anticipation of a big pr scandal. i like the worldbuilding and character work in this one, really getting into dnf's brains and what theyre thinking as they navigate their relationships. definitely more of a further alternate universe than some of these other ones (as in it feels more like ocs than dnf sometimes) and the actor aspect isn't as focused on as much as the general tribulations of fame and being in the public eye but i still include it because it was a fun read

for all the fallen stars - L4UNDRYBEAR, putthycat

george is an actor in LA struggling to get roles when he meets dream, a famous established actor who has disappeared from the public eye for a year. i like that this one has a lot more of the acting aspect, though it can feel a bit dramatic at times if thats not your jam. references to drugs, panic attack scenes, implied abuse, and feral boys inclusion

i want more life - tippysleeps

not technically an actor au since they slip in and out of their dsmp characters but im still counting it because of the stage play format and the fact that they are acting in some ways. very well executed i love it also THE WHETHER mention. good stuff, honored that this fic was written for cdnfweek too :')

stage left - anonymous

rec'ed this one before too! another not technically actor au its more of a roleplaying their dsmp characters situation while having sex but it changed my brain chemistry. they got their happy ending :( and i really love how their dialogue is written in this one. so so so fantastic this will always be famous