#having way too much fun with this generator

[vnusoki]

I THINK I NEED YOU IN MY BED ( I WANT YOU IN MY BED )

✶⋆.˚ synopsis. they may act normal outside, but in bed their a freak!

✶⋆.˚ tags. satoru gojo, nanami kento, suguru geto, x fem!reader. highly suggestive! never the actual act but descriptions. bondage. tying. use of pet names ( baby, darling ). most of the kinks r generic ones. sixteen plus.

✶⋆.˚ notes. hii! tysm for 4K on my other post !! hope you like this one 👵🏽 .ᐟ

S. GOJO .ᐟ DRESSING UP .ᐟ

you never imagined the day you’d find out one of satoru’s weird kinks in bed. it was on a normal day at jujutsu tech where he strolled into your empty classroom, a wide smile on his face. one you knew all too well meant nothing good. he then pronounced his weird fetish. commenting that you would look so great in a bunny costume. the way the corset would hug your tits, he said. or even showed more of the ass he loved so dearly. you blushed and stammered, embarrassed of how he was so shamelessly talking about you, infront of you. you would proceed to get up, saying on how your heading to yaga in some effort to get away from him. he’d give you a mischievous grin before grabbing your waist and pulling you into him. you could feel him through his black jujutsu uniform. feel how hard and needy he was before he whispered into your ear of fantasies he’d have of you in a bunny suit. ‘‘…don’t run baby. think ‘bout it, eh? you’d look so ravishin’ in a bunny suit. or even a maid uniform. whatcha say?…’’

K. NANAMI .ᐟ BONDAGE .ᐟ

unlike contrary belief, nanami does have dirty thoughts of you. unsurprisingly, of course. you were beautiful. majestic even. any normal man would have fantasies of you. nanami only addressed his desires with you in bed after dinner, while you both were watching a movie. you lay on his chest and a particularly intimate scene csme up on the screen. he blurted it out then. stating how he would make sure you would be appeased too. never hurting you. you’d laughed teasingly, playing with the collar of his white shirt, thinking. suddenly, you were rising up. now moving till you were sitting on him, directly where he was aching and hard. sure, it would be fun. who’s to say you didn’t want the same thing from him too? now nanami’s ties had more than one use. ‘‘...ah, well, darling. rope isn’t a good choice. my ties would do well, no?…’’

S. GETO .ᐟ MASTER/SERVANT .ᐟ

suguru was a cult leader. he was used to being obeyed by everyone. people bowing st his feet and following him blindly. at first, he hadn’t liked it much at first but as the years went by, he found he became quite fond of it all the time. and even more when he met you. kneeling at his feet, submissive and listening. he hasn’t ever held it above your head for you to treat him as such but you still do, atleast in the presence of others but he couldn’t hide back his desire for you to do it him in your most heated moments. it was no surprise when he approached you one day as you sorted through papers he didn’t care for. exclaiming on how fun it would be for a change. for something new. as if you didn’t obey him in the eyes of the cult members, you said. he only chuckled some more before grabbing your face in his calloused grip. his hands already wandering your clothes and dragging them off. it wasn’t long before you were forced to yours knees and made to take all of him, raw. and unsurprisingly, you enjoyed it much. ‘‘…it’s different then, you know, love. but in bed, I would show you why im leader…’’

© VNUSOKI 24 do not copy, repost or plagiarise my work.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #gojo x you #geto suguru #suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader

[ryanseslow]

How to Create Paper Cut-Out Reliefs: Tips and Techniques for Beginners

Back again with another lil' series of 2D wall relief paper cut-out forms. Both of the pieces below follow the same process and technique. Im really happy with the process and outcomes. Im working on animating them as we speak. I'll add them to this post later. My paintings inspire my drawings, and my drawings are inspired by those same forms found in my paintings. It makes sense that every so often I want to make those forms "pop out" and off the surface of a flat plane. Alas, it all starts with a quick sketch. See below, just a series of light loose free flowing lines take the lead, forward ->

Here we have a dude posing for a profile style portrait. Most likely, this is inspired by the NYC B-Boys from the years 1983 - 87ish. Either way, it's nostalgia for me. Once the sketch feels good, I'll break out the paper and x-acto knife. I keep telling myself that one day Ill work with another material other than paper for these works, perhaps wood or metal.. It will happen, I can foresee it for sure, hang in there. Im using a white bristol paper for the cut outs, I believe it is the vellum type and not the glossy, but either or will work just fine. I love to cut paper and the whole medium of paper art in general.

Paper cut-outs, also known as paper cutting or Kirigami, is a traditional art form that involves cutting shapes and designs out of paper. The history of paper cutting can be traced back to ancient China and Japan, where it was practiced as a folk art. The Chinese and Japanese would create intricate designs, often featuring animals, plants, and mythical creatures, and use them as decorations for festivals and special occasions. I always loved it and have felt inspired by these pieces.

Using the sketch above, I apply the "map" of the shapes and forms that I see. Sometimes I redraw those forms on the paper that I will cut out, and sometimes I just "draw" with the x-acto knife to recreate the forms. Sometimes, it's a combination of both of those techniques. There is also a series of "out-take / byproduct" cut outs that do not make the final piece, those can be saved and used for the next piece, obviously!

I layer the forms on top of each other to compose the arrangement as a whole, its fun to watch it all come together, in the next phase, you will need some kind of durable tape or you can make little paper forms that can be pasted to both sides of the forms as they stack, this will create the gauge and depth of the piece once it is placed onto the wall.

This is the final composition above, I love it! I used a roll of duct tape to make small cylinder forms that connect the pieces together, the piece as a whole comes "off of the surface of the wall" by about 1.5 - 2" inches - you can play with this a bit but keep in mind, the tape makes the piece heavier and it will want to comply with gravity :)

I hung the piece (also temporarily adhered via the same duct tape) for the photoshoot and to also get a good look at how it will function on the wall. I have an old painted fire place in my studio that is a great surface for hanging things, I love the contrast of textures between the bricks and the paper, as you know, the shadows will be super cool to see too.

Once I had the whole piece constructed I took a few pictures of it. I immediately wanted a clean vector line drawing of the whole character. I brought the photo into adobe Fresco and used a vector brush to draw this lovely variation. This is how my brain works, I switch paths because I know they are really pipelines to the "next thing" that I will push this to, so forward we go.

Then, it was light source and photo shoot time. Im not really happy with these picture as traditional "photographs" as I know I can do a much better job, but, as a series of "sketches" for a planned photo shoot, these will really help to make those plans a reality. I love neon colored lights. I have a bunch of them from various places and spaces that I found on the internet. Amazon has a great selection of flashlights with various colored light options. Get a few and play around with how the light can effect your work and the shadows that it creates. This is where the depth and gauge of your pieces play a role. The photos below are also a part of the same session, which all took place over a few days.

Here is another variation with a different character.. What do you think? Shall I make more?

#art #ryan seslow #ryanseslow #paper cut out #paper #paper art #2D design #2D #portrait #character design #graffiti #bboy #nyc #sculpture #paper sculpture

[michinekot]

What do u like about thistle?

I'll start off with his design because it's not so spoiler-heavy.

He's short, cute, a total menace and has the cutest evil grin ever. I certainly have a thing for villains... But also generally, jesters are fun and I usually love their outfits. Thistle is no exception, I love all of his looks (but I'm not gonna look for them all through the manga...) and how different he is after becoming the Dungeon Master. Also, white hair, purple eyes & outfit... (´,,•ω•,,)♡

I must also add, I adore how the author draws elf ears pointed upwards and how expressive her art is. Absolutely amazing, all the angry Thistles are great.

Now I'll get into heavy spoiler territory, I'll go over the ending too:

First off, I really like how he shows his love through "eternity", much like Marcille. Elves who love people of other races suffer because they will undoubtedly outlive everyone else. The way Thistle and Marcille are similar is so great to see... and I think it's great that Marcille wasn't made out to be a terrible, selfish villain and neither was Thistle. Through her becoming the Dungeon Master, we see how much this power changes them.

He meant well and his wish wasn't initially selfish. He didn't even wish for eternal live, just a peaceful one. Of course, the Winged Lion dug deeper into it and the selfish part came to light.

And because no one was aware of the danger, it became absolute truth to Thistle that he's doing the right thing and making everyone happy. His dream was everybody else's dream in his mind. And I think it's nice how much he must've paid attention to the townsfolk needs, because...

He must've done so much to make the Dungeon liveable and safe for the people he cares about. All those traps were to ward off people who (he assumed) must've been just like the ones who came to destroy the kingdom. On the other hand, he saw opportunity in the monsters and had people take care of them like they did with their farm animals. It was unnecessary, he didn't have to do that since they don't need to sleep, eat or drink. But he knew that they weren't happy doing nothing at all and put a lot of thought into the ecosystem (compared to Marcille, which is understandable, but y'know. I think it's great to see the difference since her monsters werent very, uh... thought out?)

It's been SO many years of stagnation, they can't even taste the food or enjoy anything.

He's aware, he'd enjoy a little change of pace too, he's open to it! but the desire to protect everyone wins.

He just... loves everyone so much. His platonic love isn't simple at all. He did so much for everyone. And after losing his desires... I feel like he hasn't lost his love for everyone.

I think that, maybe... he feels like everything was fullfilled? He's been angry and anxious for so long and now there's nothing to worry about anymore. I'm really sad for him, but there's no going back to "normal" after everything. But I'm glad Yaad doesn't hate him. I don't think anyone from the kingdom truly hates him.

Also this page makes me want to cry...... he's holding him so gently and Thistle only looks tired and like he wants to sleep. I hope he finds his place in the new world and lives out the rest of his life peacefully.

I haven't read much of the additional stuff yet, but I also think about Mithrun a lot.

I think Mithrun was extremely selfish in his desires and that's why, aside from them, his eye and ears were taken away. It might be just the demon's will because it wasn't exactly the Winged Lion, but all demons are technically the same one(? from what I understood...). The only desire left within Mithrun was about the demon, but in the end, it still seemed selfish.

But neither Marcille or Thistle were physically hurt after having desires taken from them. The Winged Lion also said something along the lines of "this is for everyone, I want everyone's desires to be fullfilled for all eternity". It didn't like Thistle because he stagnated, but it probably understood him a little bit, since he mostly thought of others. But there was no way to manipulate him into thinking about Anyone outside of the kingdom. Only Laios managed to talk a tiny bit of sense into him... but it still didn't work out.

So yeah, Dungeon Meshi is amazing and I generally love everyone, but Thistle speaks to me the most because... his top priority was protecting those he loves, freeing them from death and pain, living out the life they had on the surface forever. And this feels personal to me- I lost both of my parents and the friends I cared about the most left me. So like, if we ditch all the (totally right) talk about how there's no happiness without pain and such, I get Thistle. He meant well. He's a very well done character. :)

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #thistle #marcille #mithrun #sorry about the essay lol but whatever. i wanted to ramble.

[8pxl]

if you've got the time and energy, would you mind sharing your thoughts on programs that turn photographs into pixel art? thank you!

honestly people have been using methods to posterize images into pixel art for a while. it has been an issue in the pixel art community before genAI was even a thing. mostly ppl would downscale/posterize a photo to ‘delegitimize’ pixel art by showing how easy it is to ‘achieve’ lol.

but generally it’s easy to tell when an image has been made that way, mostly because of colors blurring way too much, turning into color mud with no contrast and nothing being ‘readable’ (ie trees don’t look like trees just green blobs etc)

i personally do not have an issue with it if someone is doing it for personal usage or having fun. theres also no real program that CAN just turn a photograph into pixel art, generally they use a photoshop technique etc so at least they’re having some creative input? as long as their not using copyrighted photos etc

but the issue will always be disclosing it, if you’re trying to pass off downscaled photos/AI images as your own art that’s morally wrong and very disingenuous.

#there’s a blog on here using AI images downscaled trying to pass it off as their art… #maybe i should call them out too 👁️👄👁️ #they have a kofi and are trying to make money from it sooooO #this ask was v open ended so not sure if i interpreted it right?

[remlionheart]

NSFW Alphabet: Osamu Dazai Edition ♡

♡༊·˚ mdni. ((dedicating this to my pretty gf @bratbby333 since she's the dazai to my chuuya and some of these situations were in inspired by our unhinged 5 hour long facetimes calls, *cough cough* "blood-chilling" *cough cough* ♡)) this was honestly so much fun to write. dazai would be SUCH a diva in a relationship but he would also be so loving and protective ugh. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡༊·˚

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Dazai's almost always the first one out of bed after the fact. He already has a shower running for when he comes back into the room to hand you a towel and a glass of water. You tell him that your legs are too tired to walk all the way to the bathroom so he scoops you up into his arms. The two of you laugh as he carries you into the steam-filled room. He lets you get under the water first, squirting a generous amount of shampoo into his palm as he instructs you to turn around. "Suppose your hands are too tired to wash your hair, hm?" You bite back a smile, giving him a pitiful nod in response. "My poor girl." He hums. His long fingers massaging into your scalp feel like heaven. He leaves light kisses along your shoulder, running a washcloth over your body while whispering sweet little nothings like "How'd I get so lucky?" into your skin as he cleans you off. It's hard to believe this was the same man who was making you beg on your knees for him just twenty minutes ago.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Aside from his body's infuriating aversion to death, there aren't a whole lot of things that Dazai doesn't like about his appearance. Aesthetically speaking, he finds himself fairly attractive so it's hard to narrow down one thing he likes best. If he had to though, he'd probably go with his hands. He's always gotten compliments on them, but after seeing what strong reactions they're able to coax out of you so easily, he's realized they're one of his most valuable assets. As cliche as it may be, your eyes are his favorite feature. He finds it adorable how they always tell him what he needs to know without you ever having to say a word. They tell him when you want more, when you want less, when you're about to hit your breaking point. They guide him in the right direction every single time. Plus, they're just so fucking pretty to look at.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

The only thing more blissful to Dazai than hearing or seeing your orgasm is tasting it. His head is buried between your legs, his fingers pumping in and out of you deliriously as your thighs start to lock around him. You're spasming for him again, your voice breaking as you call out his name and your hips buck up towards him. "Dazai, I can't -" You whine. "'m so... sensitive -" "C'mon baby, please." he groans, "Just one more f’me." his tongue swirls against you with fervor, his digits still greedily plummeting into you. "Lemme taste it, lemme feel it. You’re sooo close." His fingers curl at just the right angle, his tongue faithfully lapping against you as you finally fall apart for him. He moans at the sweetness that spills down his chin. "You taste like fucking ecstasy, you know that?"

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It's not necessarily a secret because in his defense, if you were to bring it up or ask him about it, he'd tell you the truth. But Dazai can't help it that you've never inquired about his exes and he's certainly not going to offer up the fact that he knows every single person you've ever been with going all the way back to the boy you kissed on the playground when you were 4 years old. Or that he just so happens to know all of their current addresses and their moms’ maiden names and where they work and their social security numbers. I mean, does it even really matter anyway?? He just got a little curious, that’s all!!

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Dazai had been with his fair share of partners before meeting you. Sex wasn't something he was ever shy about. He did a lot of experimenting, especially when he was spending the majority of his time drinking. He's always felt comfortable in his body and never saw the big deal about sharing it with someone. It wasn't until the two of you started dating that he realized just how binding sex could be. That it could transcend well beyond the simplicity of skin against skin contact. Being inside of you was the closest thing he'd ever felt to a religious experience. It felt like coming home after a long day. No matter how many hookups he'd had in the past, there was nothing that could've prepared him for how good you'd feel.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes any position that allows him to see your face. His favorite is probably fucking you from the side though, both of you facing each other with his arm hooked under your thigh, letting him go as deep as he pleases. He gets lost in the way your pupils dilate when he plunges into you. The security of your arms wrapped around his neck as you whimper and wriggle against him. There's something so intimate about watching you come undone from this view. Feeling you drench him while he kisses you over and over. "Let it out, baby. I've got you. Doin' so good - fuck, baby you're doin' so good f'me."

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

As passionate as Dazai is when it comes to being inside of you, he's still able to find a level of a humor in just about anything. He's a Gemini, after all. If he's too serious for too long, he'll simply die. You're on top of him with your hands tangled into his for balance as you grind against him. Your hips are rocking back and forth at a pace that's making his breathing uneven. You feel proud, thinking his reaction is a sign of you doing a good job until you watch his head roll to the side, a stupid smile suddenly visible as he tries to bury his face into the pillow. You quickly realize it's not a moan that he's holding back, but a laugh. Your movements come to an abrupt pause. "Dazai." He tries his best to keep it together, but the scolding tone in your voice coupled with the stern look you're shooting him is only making it worse. “Wait, listen -" he tries to explain himself, but he's powerless to his own thoughts. A burst of suppressed laughter fills the room as he covers his face with his hands, still feeling the weight of your glare on him. "R - remember -" he struggles “Last week? When you were telling me about that book you were reading and...." he nearly snorts. "And you described it as -" Your lips press into a flat line, your eyes glazing over as you realize what he’s getting at. You knew the second you messed up that phrase, you'd never hear the end of it. "Are you seriously still laughing about the fact that I said 'blood-chilling' instead of 'bone-chilling?'" "BLOOD-CHILLING!" He repeats with the most obnoxious cackle, narrowly dodging the pillow you throw at him.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Dazai spends more time grooming himself than you do. Hours in front of the mirror looking at himself from every angle to make sure what he's done is up to his standards. He's subscribed to one of those manscaping services where they mail him out a surprise bundle each month of new products to try. When you go down on him one night, he asks "...Does it smell like teakwood?" Your head pops up immediately, unsure if you even want to know what he's hinting at. "What?" "Nothing... it's nothing."

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

In love, Dazai worships you. He has every inch of your frame memorized and knows exactly what each tiny movement and whimper mean. He's studied your body like it's his lifelong passion and he's learned how to make it respond so well for him. Your hips just barely buck up while he's on top of you and he smirks, his hair lightly brushing against your forehead. "You sure can handle the whole thing? Figured you'd still be sore after last night." You shake your head back at him with the poutiest expression, your core aching for more. "I can take it." you insist, "I can -" He challenges your sureness, giving you another inch only to see your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your hand gripping onto the sheet above you. He'd never deny you of anything you wanted, but especially not when you looked this gorgeous. He grabs your hand, tangling his fingers into yours before drawing back and burying himself into you. "That's my girl." he groans, reeling in the way your walls so eagerly swallow him. Your breathing is erratic, your composure completely gone as you writhe and clench around him. He knows you're right there. You start to close your eyes, but he stops you, bringing his free hand under your chin to redirect your attention back to him. "Let me see it, angel. Show me." He slams into you again, giving you every inch of him this time. "Show much you love this." And you do. You show him three times in 20 minutes how much you love it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Dazai's the first to admit that he has a high libido and if the mood strikes, he's going to do something about it. He gets bored easily, so he has a variety of different mediums to get the job done - the 'hidden' folder on his phone that's filled with pictures and videos of you, romance mangas, fleshlights, audio porn, hentai. He's not afraid to experiment even when he's alone.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dazai is a true switch and will really fall into either being dominant or submissive depending on the situation. There are nights he gets off work and starts throwing out demands like, "On the bed. Now. Legs apart f’me." as he strips out of his jacket and pushes you down further onto the mattress. But, the are other times where he's dying not to be in control anymore. Where he's had to make too many decisions and he revels in the way you take the reins. The way you climb on top of him and whisper "good boy" as he grows hard beneath you. The only thing he loves more than making you beg is begging for you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Dazai has a bit of a thing for voyeurism and recklessness so when Kunikida hires a driver to pick the two of you up to take you to a dinner for the ADA, Dazai has no hesitation on hiking up your dress in the back of the limo. Peeking up every so often to see if the driver has even noticed the way your tits are pressed up against the window for passing cars to see as your vehicle speeds down the highway. You arch your back perfectly for him, giving him full control as he plunges into you. Your walls are so snug and gushy, he knows he won't last long. But you're enjoying this just as much as he is, playing with your clit as he grabs your hair and pulls you up to kiss him. "You like knowing that people can see me fucking you?" he whispers, biting down on your bottom lip. "Your cunt’s drippin’ alllll over me.” "Fuck - yes.” You moan, feeling your legs beginning to shake as you let out a strained. “I’d let you fuck me anywhere.” His smirk deepens, his thrusts becoming more frantic. "Don’t make promises you can’t keep, angel.”

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Dazai's pretty easy to wind up in general, but he definitely has a thing for asphyxiation. Perhaps it stems from the lingering effects of suicidal ideation, but the feeling of something cutting off his airways makes him feral. When you're on top of him and you reach for his throat, he nearly fucking melts. If he could choose any way to die, he'd request for it to be at the mercy of your loving fingertips digging into the side of his neck.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There aren't many things that Dazai wouldn't do. Not just sexually, but in general. His curiosity almost always gets the better of him no matter the situation. The only time he's ever told you no was when you were being too hard on yourself. He walked in on you picking at your body in the mirror. Pulling your skin in different directions to see what you'd look like if your arms were thinner or what you'd look like if your nose leaned more to this way instead of that way. His heart sank. All of the post-work fantasies he had built up over the day disappeared the minute he saw how frustrated you were. "Hey," he whispered, coming up behind you and gently wrapping his arms around your waist as his chin rested on your shoulder. "Please stop being mean to my girlfriend. She doesn't deserve that." You tried to brush it off as a joke, leaning up to kiss him while he held you, but he pulled back. "I'm serious." he ran light fingers over your stomach, his eyes locked with yours in the reflection of the mirror. "We're not doing anything until I hear you say at least five things you like about yourself." He could see past almost any crime or murder, but he drew the line at you degrading yourself.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Dazai's all about both, but if he's being completely honest with himself, he loves the feeling of your mouth around his cock. How cute you look when you struggle to take the whole thing. The way your eyes widen when he thrusts into your throat. How thorough you are, turning the act of going down on him into a work of fucking art. Even though you’re the one submitting to him when you get on your knees, he still feels like he's at your grace. You feel so good, he'd do anything to keep your lips wrapped around him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Just like anything else, pacing could go one way or the other. The thing about Dazai, is he wants to do whatever you want to do. Even when he's in more of a dom role, your pleasure is still his main focus. There's no such thing as wrong time or wrong place as far as he’s concerned. If you wanted him to fuck you slow and sensually in the club bathroom, he would. He'd dim the lights, lock the door, lay his jacket down for you to sit on as he propped you up onto the sink and kissed you passionately. If you wanted fast, rough, filthy sex by candlelight on a bed of roses, he would. He'd wrap his hand around your pretty little throat, mocking the way you're struggling to breathe as he bullied himself into you while you’re surrounded by romantic ambiance. Whatever you want, he does too.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If there was a tornado approaching your house at a reasonable speed, Dazai would still find time to have a quickie with you. Especially if he thought it was the last thing he might ever do. He wants to feel you as much as he possibly can. The construct of time really means nothing to him. You have to log onto a work meeting in five minutes? "I can fit under the desk, baby :((( they won't even see me. Just spread your legs and keep a straight face, okay?" Your parents are on their way over? "They drive so slow anyway, angel and the door's locked. Promise we won't get caught." You're waiting for food to be delivered? "Bet I could make you cum twice before the doorbell even rings." Getting to spend five minutes in you is always better than spending five minutes out of you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Dazai isn't just willing to take a risk, he's usually the one pushing for it. Any time your phone rings, his hands are suddenly roaming along your body, his fingers dipping into the softness of your underwear as he starts to kiss your neck. He knows you're on the phone with your boss, that makes it even better. He wants to see how long you can keep your composure while he torments you. Your eyes are like daggers when you look back at him, but your cunt betrays you entirely, grinding against him needily while he smirks. He picks up the pace, reeling in the subtle way your thighs shake. You're trying so hard to sound so professional and coherent, but your thoughts are everywhere. You're having to hit the 'mute' button every few seconds just to let out a whimper. Dazai nips at the nape of your neck, slamming into you with an extra finger this time causing you to nearly drop your phone. "Ahh ~!" But there's no time to hit mute with how he's suddenly plunging into you. Your boss asks if you're okay and you have no choice but to hang up. "Dazai -" you try to keep your voice firm, but you can barely see straight the deeper he sinks into you. "What - the... fuck -" Each word is a moan, your hand grabbing desperately onto the collar of his shirt. "Dazai," "Somethin' wrong, baby?" "Dazai, you can't -" But he already is. He already is so bad. "Dazai, please." You're not even sure what you're pleading for anymore - if it's for him to stop or continue. Your walls are squeezing him so tight, your heart slamming into your chest as more uncontrollable whines fill the room. "Dazaaiii ~" you whimper again, soaking his hand as his thumb brushes across your clit. "Ohmygod, fuck. You can't keep doing that." "No promises." He smirks, carefully pulling out of you before bringing his fingers to his mouth. "It's not my fault you taste so good."

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

It all depends on the mood, Dazai's pretty versatile. Could he fuck you for hours? Yes. Has he? Many times. It's no secret that he loves watching you struggle to walk the next day after having your legs pinned against his shoulder. But he knows he can't do that every time. He generally tries to follow your lead and give your body what it wants - whether that's 20 minutes of gentle, deep, intimacy or an hour of a mating press followed by overstimulation. As long as you're getting off, so is he.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

His nightstand is filled with an assortment of silicone stimulants for the two of you. Cockrings and vibrators and bondage kits. Out of all of the subscription services he has, getting a bundle of mystery toys delivered to his house each month is by far his favorite. He always waits 'til you come over to open it. Pouring you both a glass of wine as you divvy them out and argue about decide on who gets to use what on who.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Osamu Dazai lives to tease you. As far as he's concerned, the only reason the sun rises each morning is so that he can find new and exciting ways to make you grovel for him. He'll tie your hands together above your head, slowly unzipping his pants in front of you. Forcing you to watch as he strokes himself above you, groaning out lewd little nothings like, "Oh fuck, 'feels soo good." while he smirks at your pouty little face and the way you begin to squirm underneath him impatiently. “See how hard I am? God, just imagine what it'd feel like inside you." His hand pumping uppp and doownnnn tortuously out of reach. "Tell me baby, would you want me to go hard and fast or reeaall slow and deep?" He fucking moans while you writhe helplessly against the mattress, your neglected cunt throbbing. "Dazai, please." "Poor thing." He mocks, still jerking himself to the sight of you looking up at him with pleading eyes. "You can do better than that though, can’t you angel? C'mon, make me believe you.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

There's no denying that Dazai's loud. You make him feel so fucking good and he wants you to know. He'll have a fistful of your hair, groaning out your name while your tongue swirls around his tip. "Fuuuck.” He whimpers. "Oh - my… god." Tiny hearts cloud his vision as he watches your throat fill with his length, the heavenly sounds of you gagging on him echoing across the room. Your eyes gloss over, spit pooling down your chin when you look back up at him, your tongue still pressed firmly against his base. "S'fucking gorgeous when you suck my cock." His praise only make you go faster, drawing out the prettiest whines from him. "Nnngh ~ don't stop, baby.” His grip tightens in your hair. "Don't. Fucking. Stop." His hips buck up with each syllable, his rhythm unrelenting as lecherous tears begin to spill down your cheeks. You keep going though, drowning in the noises he's making for you. "Right there, right there. 'm gonna - oh fuck. 'm -" You feel him twitch inside your mouth before a flood of warmth suddenly coats your throat. "Swallow f'me, angel." his voice is so heady and delirious, it comes out as more of a beg than a command, "Fuck... Yeah. Just like that, mmm, god, just like that." You take it all in, not letting one drop go to waste. "You're sucha good girl, you know that? Sucha good fucking girl."

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Dazai gives the illusion that he's not jealous. That it doesn't bother him in the slightest when you go out with your friends or when you stay at the gym longer than you said you would. He does trust you - completely, actually. He knows you'd never do anything to jeopardize your relationship with him. It’s the outside world he doesn't trust. When you're driving home from work, he's watching you through the location sharing on your phone. He stares at the screen intently until he hears you pull into the driveway. When you’re at the bar, he knows the importance of girls’ time and he’d never spoil that. He simply wants to make sure no one is bothering you. He shows up, stealthily lingering in the background, watching his pretty girl laugh with her friends and dance with a drink in her hand the way she should. He loves seeing you have fun, he doesn’t want to take that away from you. He just follows behind your Uber to make sure the driver gets you to where you're going safely. He's seen too many tragedies between working for the PM and ADA, he can't take the risk of letting anything happen to you. So, he doesn't. There's absolutely nothing off limits to you. The entire world is yours. You just... might see a man in a suspicious looking jacket that bears an eerie resemblance to your boyfriend trailing behind you from time to time while you're out. It's only because he loves you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Standing at a solid 5'11, Dazai's decently tall and slender - surprisingly muscular underneath all of those bandages. His waistline is so pretty and his hands? God, those long beautiful digits have brought you to your breaking point more than a few times. Besides excelling in dexterity, he's also packing. A perfect blend of length and girth that curves ever-so-slightly as if it was made for the sole purpose of hitting your g-spot.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Dazai would bend you over in in front of the Pope if you'd let him. He's unapologetically ready to go at any time. He can't help that you're just so gorgeous and that his eyes are always glued to the way your hips sway when you walk in front of him. He yearns for you constantly, even when you're not around. If he could have a 10-hour loop of you moaning his name that's what he'd use as white noise to fall asleep to each night. He can't help that his dick twitches at the thought of you. It's not his fault you're so pretty :((((

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Rest has never come easy for Dazai. He's tried every natural (and narcotic) sleep aide he could get his hands on. Put down multiple bottles of Pinot Grigio and still found himself up for days on end. Up until he met you, he didn't think it was possible for him to sleep for more than two hours at a time, but the first time you invited him over to your apartment changed everything. The two of you had been talking for hours - laughing and debating and sharing secrets over a bottle of cherry whiskey. He could've stayed up long past sunrise with you but when he noticed how tired your eyes were getting, he offered to take you to bed instead. Both of you stripped down into lazy pajamas. You, in an oversized t-shirt with nothing underneath. Dazai, in his boxers. You looked so peaceful when your head hit the pillow, he was sure that you'd be out soon, but to his surprise, your body had other plans. Your lips were soft against his, your hands gently roamed along his body as you pulled him on top of you. You smiled at the way his hair tickled your forehead. The sun was just barely creeping through your curtains, grazing your face as he slid into you, highlighting the pleasure that had taken over your features. It was all so hazy and comfortable. Your room filled with heady mid-morning noises while his body thrusted generously into yours. There was something so intimate about it that it nearly brought you to tears. You felt full in every sense of the word. When you were both good and spent, the two of you laid in the middle of your bed with your head nestled into his chest. He played with your hair, watching you fall asleep in his arms. He'd never felt more human than he did in that moment. His eyes closed, his mind turning off for what felt like the first time in years as he drifted off with you.

ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ

‎♡‧₊˚ here's chuuya's version if you're new here ‎♡‧₊˚

#rem writes #bsd dazai #dazai smut #dazai x fem reader #dazai osamu #soukoku #bsd smut #osamu x reader #dazai x reader #dazai headcanons #bsd headcanons #dazai fluff

[krysmcscience]

Aww, look at these cute lil kiddos, they couldn't possibly be-

-oh, wait, no, never mind. They're evil.

I'll clean up and color these sketches eventually. Also, goofy headcanon stuff under the readmore if anyone cares. XD;

The Mystic Seller's mention of Leshy's ascension to godhood got me wondering what sort of mortals the Bishops used to be before they were gods, and how the five of them are even siblings. Unless some Real Weird Genetic Fuckery is going on, I have severe doubts they're related by blood, so...Found Family...? Yes, please~ OuO

So now in my brainspace they start out as a bunch of wretched orphan kids, relying on each other to survive with their own unique skillsets, which they utilize with Extreme Prejudice against anyone who happens to be unfortunate enough to have what they need (food/gold, generally).

Shamura is the leader and tactician (and has some spellcasting know-how as a treat), Kallamar is the lookout and stealth killer (with poisons, though he'll resort to Weaponry Panic if things get dicey), Heket is the thief and explosives fanatic (watch out - she'll steal all your food and then go scorched earth on your crops to make sure you STARVE), and Leshy is the distraction master and trap-digger (and general menace who will bite people's faces). Meanwhile, Narinder gets the short end of the stick as usual, in that his only real skill is Kill People Dead - a silent assassin most times, following Shamura's lead to avoid putting him or his siblings in danger, but if he has to, he's equally fine with just rushing in and going ham with whatever weapons he can get his rude little hands on.

I haven't put much thought into most of their meetings - mainly just that (as the seemingly perpetual outlier of the five) Narinder was the last to be brought into their little family. He was already pretty decent at killing to survive, unwittingly massacred a camp of the quartet's latest targets on his own, fell into one of Leshy's pit traps on the way out, and was later found by both Leshy and Heket, who only resisted firebombing Narinder's fun new pit-home when Kallamar found their targets already dead, after which Shamura saw the value in offering Narinder a place in the family. Naturally, he accepted, since the choice was a logical one for survival's sake, but inwardly, he latched onto Shamura pretty hard as a source of guidance and companionship - and, eventually, comfort. Because I gotta add that lovely source of OOF.

The biggest OOF this headcanon creates, though, is that Narinder used to be the one protecting his siblings. :3c Until...ya know. They needed protecting from him. >:3c I do tend to headcanon the whole betrayal thing to be rather less unprovoked on his part, though, because I read too much into the few details canon gives us on that front, and this fucker has become my precious little meow meow, okay??? >:[

I needed to be in bed hours ago lol, why do I do this

#sketches #fanart #cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl bishops #cotl narinder #cotl leshy #cotl heket #cotl kallamar #cotl shamura #the marks on narinder's forehead are scars that eventually become his third eye i guess because why not? idk man i just work here #look- i can't be told that the bishops also betrayed narinder without immediately thinking there is so much more to his lashing out at them #because it just doesn't read like he's talking about them trying to seal him away for eternity after he literally attacked them all #granted - he COULD be lying - he IS a bastard like that #but given his quest line and general tsundere vibe i have my doubts #also LOOK i know kallamar is the one with the holy hand grenade - but hear me out #heket attacked me with bombs first and i took that very personally

[beetlejuicyy]

Eraser | Ryomen Sukuna x reader

4. Vengeance

Summary: you give Sukuna a taste of his own medicine with Toji's help. is it the right move, though?

Warnings: galisht, toxicity, mentions of cheating

Word count: 4,005

Series Masterlist:

1. Ultimatum

2. Wash Away

3. Only memories

4. Vengeance

Read on AO3

Notes: i have to admit i never expected this story to get here when i wrote the first part. so thank you everyone who enjoys this i'm having so much fun!!

General Masterlist | Divider @rookthornesartistry

You’re the only one I want by my side.

For fifteen minutes you have been looking blankly at the pretty box on your bed. A deliveryman showed up in front of your door to deliver it, although you didn’t remember placing any order. The prettiest dress you’ve ever seen, even more beautiful in reality than the pictures you saw on the internet, was carefully folded with a handwritten note on top.

Wear this for me, if you come. I hope you will.

Your heart was beating, a mix of excitement and indignation fighting inside your soul. Does he think a dress and a handwritten note is enough? But your legs were already weak, your anger melting with every minute your eyes looked back and forth from the dress to the note. It was a dress you showed him multiple times. There was no occasion in the near future to wear it, sparkly and revealing just enough, elegant and precious, it was too much even for a fancy dinner or the occasional parties he took you to. Not to mention the exorbitant price.

The standard invitation sent to everyone was hiding at the bottom of the box, under the dress. It was a formal party, celebrating the launch of his new business, at a fancy casino. The dress was perfect for the event. For three days you had been debating whether to go or not, the only thing keeping you from running back into Sukuna’s arms being your wish for something to change. You weren't quite sure what exactly yet.

Looking out the window of your kitchen, you saw the same car parked in front of the building, as always. The tough guy following your every move since your breakup was undoubtedly paid by Sukuna to keep an eye on you. He never blended in with any of the places you went, too tall and hunky, not even pretending to have any other reason for being in the same places as you. You weren’t scared of him, mostly because you knew he was Sukuna’s man.

You’re the only one I want by my side.

You could almost hear Sukuna say these words, although they were only written on a thick perfumed paper. As you still contemplated, you noticed the man with raven hair got out of the car. He was wearing a navy shirt that hugged his muscles in all the right places, the fabric stretching as his arms moved. He was having a smoke, with his back leaning against the car, looking up to the window illuminated by light where you were standing.

An idea sparked inside your mind, like a lightning bolt.

You couldn’t forgive Sukuna so easily. But if you could teach him a lesson that would bring you to an even ground that would make things easier. Fair.

When you got out of the apartment building, Toji was already inside the car. He watched you closely as you approached, your breasts jiggling softly with every step you took in your high heels. He licked his lips instinctively, as Sukuna’s warning echoed inside his brain.

I don’t pay you to fantasize about fucking my woman.

How could he not, though? That bastard knew your measurements so well since the dress was fitting your body perfectly, it was probably custom made. It was reflecting all the light coming from the streetlamps on your way to the car. Toji rolled down the window before you could reach him, placing his forearm on the sill.

“You’re Sukuna’s lapdog, right?” You asked, and he looked up at you. Such a pretty face for a pretty body. Feisty as well.

“I’m only doing what I’m paid for, doll.” He shrugged, waiting for your next move.

“Take me to him.”

You didn’t expect him to open the door for you or anything, but the ride was engulfed by an awkward silence. Toji was quite handsome, you admitted to yourself as you stole looks now and then. It made your plan easier to follow, since your eyes flew to his large hand on the steering wheel or to the scar across the corner of his lips.

“You’re Megumi’s dad, right?” You asked, wishing to spark some conversation. He looked at you quickly from the corner of his eye, although he failed to meet your gaze and landed on your cleavage instead. “The resemblance is striking.” You continued when his eyes went back to the road. You wondered if Sukuna knew him because Yuuji was friends with Megumi or the other way around.

“He takes more after his mom.” Toji replied on a neutral tone, and you understood that the subject you chose was not the best. He was probably a teen dad, since he didn’t look that old, but more mature than you in any case.

You took out a small mirror from your purse to check on your make-up. As the car stopped at a red light, the man took a moment to look at how short your dress was when you were sitting down, exposing a generous amount of your thigh. You could see him in the mirror, and he seemed to be aware of it, but he didn’t look away until the light turned to green.

“You shouldn’t push him away too much, y’know?” Toji finally said, breaking the silence. “A man has his ego too.” For a moment, the hidden meaning of his words was clear as day. He had guessed what you were about to do.

“I’m not taking advice from a man who barely paid child support.”

“Fair enough.” He replied with a smug smile.

When the car finally pulled over in the parking lot, a drop of your determination disappeared as you noticed all the expensive cars and people attending Sukuna’s party. You were about to ruin his night, and, for a moment, you wondered if all of this was worth it. Couldn’t you simply get over it, believe the man you loved and end this? Your hand slipped away from the door as Toji opened it for you and you looked at him surprised. He was offering you a hand.

The images of Sukuna making out with that girl flashed in your mind, giving you the confidence boost you needed. You took Toji’s hand and got out of the car, pulling the hem of your dress lower. You were about to give your boyfriend some taste of his own medicine.

“I should get going, my job is done here.” Toji said with a very unconvincing voice, as if he didn’t believe the words either. He was giving you a last chance to change your mind.

“Nonsense.” You said, grabbing his muscular arm. “I’ll buy you a drink as a thank you for the ride.”

You arrived late, as you intended. You hardly recognized any of the people crowding the enormous room lit by crystal chandeliers. It was hard to find Sukuna in this mass of fancy dresses and rich men but you didn’t rush anyway. Toji guided you towards the bar, and you took a seat while he chose not to, standing next to you. The look in his eyes, practically undressing you, was enough to tell that he didn't mind your little game at all. After you got your drink you quickly turned in your seat to face him, while your eyes constantly searched the crowd for a ruffled pink hair in the sea of people. As you were talking, you crossed one leg over the other, growing impatient by the minute.

***

Dissimulation was one of Sukuna's many skills. He had no difficulty in smiling charmingly and exchanging meaningless words just for the sake of building his reputation. There were only two types of people in that room. The ones who had no idea who he was and the ones who knew it too well. Naturally, with the first category he could start on a clean slate. With the latter, it was even more entertaining to see how they followed the social script so diligently while their pupils contracted in fear, a drop of sweat was dripping down their foreheads and their hands were shaking as they greeted him. Sukuna had everyone wrapped around his finger, be it throught admiration or fear.

"O-of course, it would be an honour to collaborate." The old man's voice trembled while he only looked down at Sukuna's expensive dress shoes as he was speaking. The last time Sukuna saw this pathetic scum his men had his son kidnapped because of unpaid debt. He was big in the transportation industry, of course he found double the money to pay.

A man from security carefuly approached Sukuna as he was enjoying his little intimidation games, whispering in his ear that someone saw you enter through the front door. His relaxed posture suddenly changed, his back straight and tense, his hands clenched in tight fists in his black dress pants' pockets as he heard Toji's name following yours.

He had to find you. He had to talk to you. If you were here, he surely meant something to you.

The hall was enormous and filled with people. He had to find you quickly and easily. His heart was beating fast, anticipating the moment he could see your face, hear your voice, feel your touch. He missed you excruciatingly much. So much that he was about to do the most cliché and cheesy gesture that otherwise would have made him cringe just by thinking about it.

The band stopped playing and everyone turned around to see the singer announce that the host of the party was about to hold a speech. People clapped in encouragement as Sukuna stepped up on the stage, on the opposite end of the room from the bar, where you and Toji were casually continuing your conversation. It was so easy for him to spot you. While everyone was facing him, you weren't. Your dress, the one he bought you, was the brightest and most beautiful. Next to you, that bastard had his hand on your waist while you leaned in to kiss him, one small hand of yours on his chest.

It was barely a couple of moments that other guests didn't even notice. But to Sukuna it felt like an endless torment in hell, seeing how you tilted your head so you could make out with the other man, your hand gripping in his shirt, your eyes open looking directly at him while your body was touched by someone else, your tongue was in someone else's mouth, your hands were pulling someone else close. Sukuna's hand grabbed the micropone tightly, his knuckles white, almost breaking.

He could already see himself jump off the stage, terrified people making way as he would roll his sleeves up to his elbows, ready to beat the shit out of Toji, the bastard he was paying to keep an eye on you. He would punch him right in the face, break that annoying smirk off his lips, then drag him out and beat him to death.

"Huh, this thing doesn't seem to like me." Sukuna joked with a relaxed tone as he pretended not to know how the microphone worked. If his mind was filled with homicidal thoughts nobody in the room could see that. Instead, they saw a handsome and powerful man thanking everyone for attending his event.

You pulled away from Toji as soon as Sukuna's voice echoed in the room. Nobody could see past his facade better than you. And this time, it was more unsettling than ever.

"I would like to thank everyone for honouring me with your support for this new chapter of my life." You had planned to leave as soon as your revenge was through, mostly because you didn't know how to confront Sukuna so soon. But he had you mesmerized, in his black Armani shirt as he rolled up his sleeves comfortably and talked to the audience as if he didn't just see his woman makeout with another man a second before. You watched in awe how his supressed anger flickered every time his eyes would find yours again, while he joked about his appearance, reassuring his guests that his tattoos didn't prevent him from being an upright businessman. It was scary to see how much self control he had, but even scarier to think what would happen when it was gone. You wanted to break him, to see him suffer as you did, but he kept talking as if nothing happened.

"I would also like to raise a toast for the woman who had always been by my side, the one I love most." He raised his glass while looking directly at you, and you suddenly forgot how to breathe. "Unfortunately she couldn't be with us tonight."

You heard Toji sneer next to you, taking the approaching end of Sukuna's speech as a signal to leave. He leaned to your ear to whisper that he will be waiting in the car, but you could barely pay attention to his words. Before he could move, you left your seat as the room echoed with the sound of people clapping.

***

The night air was not as refreshing as you had hoped. The terrace was empty. You placed your hands on the marble railing, the cold surface making you shiver. Toji was right, it was best to leave now. But you couldn't. You simply couldn't. Your stupid revenge plan brought no comfort. If you ever felt a drop of satisfaction while your lips were locked with Toji's and your eyes locked with Sukuna's, it was too feeble to be remembered.

"No, thank you." You said as you heard someone come closer, placing a glass of alcohol on the railing next to your hand.

"You might need it." You choked on empty air as Sukuna's low voice rang in your ears. Your heartbeat echoed in your throat and you felt tears blurring your vision. Your grip on the marble tightened as if you found it hard to stand on your feet. "I hope you're happy now." Sukuna had three buttons of his shirt undone as he leaned with his back against the cold marble. He took a sip from the same glass he offered you before putting it back like a boundary between your bodies.

You didn't say anything. You only pressed your lips together, in an attempt to avoid crying. The band had started playing again inside and the muffled sound of music was the only thing you could hear besides your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

"Why do you always do this?" You asked as you turned to him after a long moment of silence. His eyebrows rose in dissimulated confusion as he didn't even look at you, his eyes fixed on the glass doors revealing a glimpse of the party. "Give me what I want after I fuck everything up."

He crossed his arms, the expensive perfume you gifted him for Christmas creeping deep into your brain.

"Why do you think I invited you here? Had all these losers dressed up? Rent this expensive shithole for the night? Hired a well know band?"

"Don't blame me, I never asked for any of it." You took a sip from the same glass, wishing you could kiss him instead. The memory of Toji's taste on your lips made you take yet another sip to wash it away.

"I'm not blaming you. I'm just saying I'm not good with words. So I make up for it through gestures."

He had an innate talent of always turning every situation in his favor. You were the bad guy now. You kissed someone else while he prepared an event just for you. You ruined everything with your arrogance. You could never win.

It was almost infuriating how calm he was, although you could tell from his reluctance to look at you that he was still concealing his true feelings for the sake of appearance. He had a venue full of important people watching him. He couldn't cause a scene. Yet.

"Did you enjoy it?" He asked after a few long minutes of silence. His voice was lower, closer to a growl. His mind was replaying that moment in his head over and over again.

"Did you enjoy kissing that bitch?" You answered with another question. He grinned as he played with the almost empty glass, the small amount of liquid left sparkling in the light as it moved.

"So it's payback. You think that's fair?" He asked again, his eyes lost watching the whiskey splashing against the edges of the glass according to his hand's movements.

"It's not even half of what you've done to me." You muttered through gritted teeth. You were about to grab his face, force him to look at you, break away from the stupid game he was playing when he smashed the glass against the marble floor, making you gasp and step back in fear. The music was too loud for the people inside to notice. He ran a hand through his hair, inhaling deeply. The glass shattered on the floor, the small amount of alcohol spilling on the white marble.

"It's not even half." He repeated after you and took a few steps to close the distance between the two of you. You felt the cold marble against your back as he cornered you, both his hands placed at your sides, his arms imprisoning you. "What would be half? What would make it even?" He asked, dangerous crimson eyes fixed on you as his head hanged low to look down at you. Your feet were already hurting because of the heels. "You want me to watch my employee fuck you, hm?" You looked up at him through your lashes, feeling the soft fabric of his pants touch your bare legs. "Would that be half?" His head sank even lower, his mouth close to your ear to growl lowly. "Two men? Three? How many would you have fucking you until you call it even?"

"You're disgusting." You said as you gripped on the marble railing, his body leaning over yours making it hard for you to stand.

He leaned back to look at you again, his eyes following the curves of your body, appreciating how well the dress was fitting you. You felt the tip of his fingers brush against your waist and up your chest, shivering when his cold hand wrapped around your warm neck. He didn't choke you, didn't put any pressure on your soft skin. His hand only ghosed around it, feeling your pulse in the empty space between your skin and his hand and the warmth radiating from your body.

You weren't afraid of him, just as you weren't afraid of Toji when he suddenly started following you around. Because you knew Sukuna would never hurt you. Even now, when his mouth was spitting the vilest things, you could see the sadness in his eyes, the regret that was lingering in his intimidating stare. One of your hands wrapped around his tattooed wrist, pushing his hand further into your neck, daring him to go further.

"Come on, take it out on me." You said when his hand refused to move, not choking you completely but not freeing you either. He was keeping you there, still pondering on what he was supposed to do. "Do whatever you want."

"No." He said, pulling away, allowing you space to breathe.

You didn't think much about the aftermath of your plan, mainly because you proudly pretended you knew him better than he knew himself. You knew he was sorry for everything he had done. You knew he loved you. You knew he would never hurt you. But you also wanted to hear it from his own mouth. In your arrogance, you didn't bother to worry about overstepping a line, breaking a boundary, making irreparable damage. After all, you only returned the same pain he made you go through.

Then why didn't you feel like it was enough?

He was standing a few steps away from you until he adjusted his dress pants as he crouched down on the floor. Now he looked more like the man you were familiar with, the gang leader of the streets, full of tattoos, hair a mess, ready to fight if anyone dared to cross him.

"Uraume is waiting for you in parking lot to take you home." He said as he took out a cigarette. He tried to light it a few times but the lighter seemed broken. He threw it on the floor with a loud sigh, the sound of metal hitting marble hurting your ears. It must have been very uncomfortable to sit like that in those fancy pants.

"I can go by myself." He smiled, expecting you to refuse. He was still playing with the cigarette between his fingers but the lighter was too far.

"I'm not saying it twice." Sukuna sat up and walked over to pick up the lighter. The violent gesture seemed to have fixed it since now it flickered right away, and he sucked in so desperately like the nicotine could take away the pain in his heart.

Looking at him, you wondered if you had always been this vile. You would have never guessed how hungry for revenge you would be, how much you would wish to hurt him as much as you loved him. Even now, as you could clearly see the contradictions in his mind, the hurt and the anger and the love fighting to reach a conclusion, it still wasn't enough for you. You wanted more. You wanted to see Sukuna crawl, groaning in agony because of you. You loved him and you wanted to own him equally. But the quiet good girl minding her business could never own a man like him.

"If you think about leaving with Toji he's either beaten up or already left after beating up my men."

You walked up to him, his eyes never leaving you as you approached him. It was a new and unfamliar dynamic between the two of you. Maybe defying Sukuna by kissing Toji made you realize you had more power than you thought. Or his bad influence over time was finally taking its toll on you. When you closed in the space between the two of you, you lightly placed one hand on his cheek. He turned his face to the side, blowing away a thin cloud of smoke. His handsome side profile was even more captivating from up close, every curve and edge of his features creating a masculine and intimidating view. When he turned his face back to you, you pulled him in for a kiss and he quickly responded. It was the first kiss after so much time, yet it was slow and soft, almost like you were getting to know each other's lips for the first time. He let the cigarette fall from between his fingers, his hands placed on your hips pulling you closer. You could taste on his lips just how much he missed you and you made sure to let him know too. When you pulled away his lips were swollen and stained with your lipstick. You wiped it away softly with your thumb.

"Go." He said, although his hands were still placed on your hips keeping you close.

"The woman who had always been by your side is gone already." You said, alluding to his earlier speech. He frowned slightly, not understading your odd smile or your puzzling eyes. "Take care, 'kuna." You said, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. When you pulled away, he caught you by the hand, keeping you next to him for a few more moments.

"This dress looks amazing on you." He said.

"Thank you." You whispered, squeezing his hand.

《previous 3. Only Memories next》 Ascension |

True Form! Sukuna x Reader

tags: @sukunasleftkneecap @nicxl333 @st4r-s4r4 @vinnieswife @rosaryia @iluvoaldmen @rowrowrowyourboat13 @sterzin @siriuslyblackonback @00frenchfries00 @selina18

#sukuna jjk #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jujustu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #sukuna angst #sukuna x y/n

[cinnamonest]

OMG I MISSED YOUR WRITINGS ON SCARAMOUCHE SO MUCH!!

Please I need the version with camgirl reader x incel Scaramouche 🛐

And I hope you are well !!! <3

The way I was gonna make this a fairly simple post and then I got carried away and now it's 9k words WHOOPS

Anyway YES anon, I am on the slut girl x virgin boy agenda... although since I already have a camgirl, this time I went with like an onlyf*ns/e-girl darling + college AU >:3

//noncon, cyberstalking, blackmail, harassment, misogyny, sadism, nipple/ass stuff, revenge porn/leaking, darling is portrayed as being feminine + implied to have a bf

---

You tell yourself it's just to get you through college.

That's how you convinced yourself to start the account — regular camming requires a schedule and streaming and all that, which you'd rather not do, whereas the other outlets let you sell subscriptions for photos and videos, and there was a decent market out there, so you took your best shot, did some work to advertise yourself on mainstream social sites, and hey, it worked. You soon find yourself with a steady stream of income, and all you have to do is masturbate on camera and take a few posed photos of your body.

A few years of some extra income, and then you'll be done, get a better job, and you can delete the account and scrub the internet clean of any trace of the matter. Maybe some guy out there will keep some of the photos, but it can't be that bad.

This way, you can focus on your academics, which a regular part-time job would be too time-consuming for. You don’t have to worry about scheduling classes around a work schedule, either, which allows you to be more choosy on your class schedule, ensuring you get the later classes and don’t have to wake up early each day.

Except one, where you had no choice but to take the early class, as the other sections filled up fast. It’s one of those required tech-involved ones, you just picked from the list at random — one of those big classes with hundreds of people in a huge auditorium, any degree of personalism drowned by the sheer number of people. It’s a male-dominated subject field, and the body of attending students when you walk in clearly reflects that, so you just sit down in the very back at the first unclaimed seat you can find, pausing to say good morning to the boy next to you, who only briefly looks your way in acknowledgement.

The professor goes over the generic first-day material — that yes, you need the expensive textbook, that yes, he will check attendance, and no, he will not give you extra credit at the last minute at the end of the semester, so on and so on… and—

—you’ll be working with the person next to you for the rest of the semester.

Even-numbered seats, the person to your immediate left, odd-numbered seats, to your immediate right. You turn and smile at the guy you’re thus assigned to, the same one you spoke to a few moments ago — once again, he just glances over at you and nods with some vague acknowledgement and then resumes doing what he’s been doing since the professor started, which is scrolling on his phone beneath the desk, only half-paying attention. That does not bode well for your predictions of how equally-yoked you’ll be in your work ethic… but no big deal.

It's one of those classes with a midterm and final project that you work on throughout the semester, rather than tests… which, hey, that could be fun, you tell yourself. You think you can get along. He doesn’t seem to care about what's going on around him much, which is not exactly good, but isn’t bad.

That dopey, happy demeanor… so obnoxious… ugh, you’ve got a notebook (an aesthetic, pretty one at that), and you're pulling it out on the first day of class? For what?

Except you aren’t reading him all that well at all. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes shift over to you and your activities throughout the class. And the reality is he very much does care.

That is, from the very second he lays eyes on you, you irritate him.

Then you write the class and your name at the top of the page all cutesy and artsy-looking, and then— God, now you're pulling out the multiple colors of highlighters and pens. Is that— is that one of those sparkly gel pens? Oh, it is. You’re making a little header with today’s date for your notes with it. Just kill him now. This is practically psychological torture.

Thus, while from your perspective, it feels like he barely pays you a second thought, in reality the rest of the period for him is spent just stewing in a stream of bitter, jaded thoughts.

Look at you with your… girl clothes and girl pens and girl notebook… you probably think you're so cute, spending money on dumb stuff like that… and smiling like an idiot. What are you so happy for. Why are you even taking this class when you'll just be bad at it. Why are you dressed like you put effort into it. Just pick up one of the sweatshirts laying on your bedroom floor like a reasonable person. And why do you smell so nice too.

He mulls over the negativity for the remainder of the class period, totally zoned out until people start packing up, which is the cue to leave.

Except you stop him before he can make a quick exit, holding out your phone, open to a new entry in your contacts.

Ah, since we'll need to work on the project, I can text you…

Right. That. Ugh.

The awkward discomfort of standing there and entering a name and number while you stand there with that dumb little nervous smile is only made more upsetting by the bitter realization that this will mark the first time he's ever had his number in a girl's phone before. Great, now he's going to be depressed for the rest of the day, and it's your fault.

You say thanks and smile again and your hands brush against his when you take your phone back and it makes him physically flinch in recoil — and you definitely noticed it, you mumble a little ah, sorry as if you're trying to make it even more awkward, now he's got to live with the humiliation of that too, and it's still your fault. Clearly, you are going to be nothing but a source of frustration.

And even once he's moped all the way back to the the comfort of his nice, dark apartment, he still can't escape your torment — no sooner does he flop down into bed than his phone goes off…

>Hi! Just wanted to make sure you can save my number too!

You add the little smiling emoji. It makes his eye twitch.

Trying to act all nice and sweet as if you're not only being pleasant because you're forced to work together. He knows full well you'd be all bitchy and demanding and hypersensitive in any other context, and probably all snobbish too, probably would barely pay him any mind.

Even if you are genuinely sweet, that in and of itself is still basically torturing him. Because what’s the point in you being sweet if you’re not going to give him anything more than that? With that in mind, even your niceness is just a cruel tease.

And why would you even be so happy to begin with? Doesn't being a girl suck? If he was something so weak and inferior and unintelligent, he'd be even more miserable about life, and that's really saying something. Maybe it's one of those things where you're so dumb that you lack self-awareness, so you can live a life of ignorant bliss... at the same time, the notion that you’re unaware of how inferior you are is equally frustrating. You should know, that knowledge should weigh on your mind all the time.

The frustration makes his chest feel tight, makes him grind his teeth… naturally, he has to get it out somehow, and there's a very convenient means to do so.

The imageboards he frequents almost always have a “leaked images” thread up and running, communities where they post e-girls’ nudes and revenge porn. The wrongness of it, of course, is the appeal.

Besides, they all deserve it. Some are images originally sent to boyfriends, posted as an act of revenge after cheating or dumping the guy (so it's deserved, really), others are leaked videos and photos from various pay-to-view networks and websites (also deserved, for being a whore), and finally some are just creepshots in public places (deserved once more, for dressing that way).

And the endless amount of the content and surprisingly good tagging system means that one can find any sort of content, and for the leaked porn accounts, it includes the girl's username and links to more of her, so you can see more of the same girl.

Like with this one, that just so happens to catch his eye. There's a whole page where some guy has paid for every single photo this girl has made, and put it out there for everyone to see for free. It's solo stuff, too, which is preferred — seeing couples making videos together, thereby watching the girl love on some guy, is depressing — and getting off to it is much more satisfying than any of the other girls on this thread, considering she looks like you.

…A lot, actually.

He's already memorized your annoying, pretty little face. The title of the video has the words “college girl” in it, too. Adds to the immersion, can feel like it’s really you, degrading yourself like that… of course, when it’s over, he has to deal with the reality that it isn’t, but the momentary pretending is cathartic.

And sure enough, as the first week passes, you quickly prove just as irritating as he initially suspected. You smile at him and talk to him every class, for some unknown, malicious ulterior motive. Are you trying to be belittling? Or are you trying to make him like you so that he'll do favors for you? Or is it for your own amusement?

Either way, the obvious deceit of it all is sickening. It's a commonly known female behavior. You try to come across as so sweet when in reality it's all an act, and you have some horrible reason for it. He just doesn't know what the reason is in your case yet. It would be better to be a bad person outright — the slimy underhanded fakeness of it all is what makes that type of evil so contemptible.

You, though, you’re just a bit puzzled. Normally, being nice to people works well… but this guy keeps sort of glaring at you… maybe that’s just how his face naturally is? But then, he also doesn’t talk very nice either. Not particularly mean, per se, but you can sort of sense an irritation, like you’ve done something wrong… you try to make the best of it, tell yourself you’re just imagining it. Besides, if he really didn’t like you, he wouldn’t respond when you talk to him, or would sit elsewhere, right? It’s not like you have to maintain the same seats all semester, as long as you work on the required material outside of class. So, you tell yourself, he must just be one of those people that naturally has that demeanor.

You’re not nearly as aware of it, but he makes his own observations of you too. You don’t check your phone nearly as much as he does, but every now and then, you look at something or another, and he always makes sure to subtly turn his eyes to see… it’s usually something stupid, like texts from friends, or worse, what appears to be a boyfriend, some male name you text often.

The first time you’re forced to meet outside of class, at the library per your suggestion — a very awkward interaction, but you seem to be fairly unbothered — you take a moment to check it when it vibrates. You’re sitting at an angle that makes it difficult for him to see without moving in a way that would catch your attention, but by pretending to take a swig of whatever can of liquid caffeine he has today (you had the audacity to comment how unhealthy it is), that he can tilt his head enough just to barely make out your screen without being noticed.

Your phone is open to an email.

The words flash across the screen for just a split second before you turn the screen off, but that one second is enough to make out the top of the screen. Enough time for the ‘hello, (username),’ preface to the email right beneath a very familiar blue logo to register with his brain.

He nearly chokes.

It takes every ounce of willpower to even try to hide the natural reaction — his eyes widen, he goes tense, he has to turn his torso away and pretend to fish something out of his cluttered bottomless void of a backpack whilst trying to refrain from coughing.

But then again, you put the phone away so quickly once you saw what it was… and the video from the other day…?

No. That can't be right.

There's no way. There's no way, there's no way, there's no way.

He can’t get back to his own place fast enough. Dropping the keys trying to unlock the door out of excitement, immediately whipping out his own phone, and he’s on the bookmarks tab before he can even sit down. Back to the leaks site, scrolling down to the tags where they put the girl’s username.

You’re wholly unbothered, going right back to talking to him in that overly-sweet tone, so nice, so frustrating, so torturous. You’re saying something. He has to get you to repeat yourself… no, it was just some pointless question about the homework.

To hell with that, that’s not even remotely important anymore… but he can’t voice that thought out loud, so he’s forced to tolerate the torment of waiting out the rest of your meeting until you finally say you’ll have to keep working later.

The usernames match. The one in your email was the exact same as the one now on the screen.

…

It's one of those moments where what's in front of him is so surreal, he's left so stunned, that he just sits there for a second, completely still, blinking and taking it in. Something that's too perfect to be real. This can't be actually happening, he's mistaken.

And thus he's just left perfectly still, a stupor of disbelief, sitting there in the darkness of the room with only the harsh light of phone screen shining up on his face as it slowly sinks in. It takes a minute — this is just the sort of thing that doesn't happen, it's far too perfect, he has to convince himself it isn't a dream.

And once it registers as reality, it feels exhilarating.

For one, it proves every suspicion right. He really did have a valid reason to be distrusting of your innocent girl act. To think, this whole time you were trying to fool him into believing you were good.

But all along, you were whoring out online, and basically, the fact that you're not upfront about that to someone you barely know is the same as outright lying about it.

Up until this point, life has just been so boring, so disappointing, just going through day to day… even college was just a thing to do because it's what everyone else does. But now? Now he has something exciting. A sudden sense of something meaningful, even if only as an outlet for pure, unadulterated malice.

As for you, well, you get a… well, a follower, but certainly not a fan.

The boy is a world-class hater. It's not passive hating, it's active hating. There is actual effort being put in here, and a lot of it at that.

In terms of the content itself, it's nothing you haven't seen before — some guy leaving comments and DMs calling you a whore and a slut and every nasty name one can conjure, saying you've ruined any hopes of a relationship by doing this, why would anyone ever date you when they can see you naked for a few bucks, telling you to get a real job, blah blah… fairly generic. A lot of the verbiage is certainly non-original, and more or less recycled, specific choices of words and phrases and lingo you know you’ve seen before in those pockets of the internet where certain types of men congregate.

But the sheer dedication to it is what catches you off guard. You're pretty sure this guy is more dedicated to harassing you than you are to the job itself. There's messages from all hours of the day, and you're certain after a short time that he makes multiple accounts for the sole purpose of harassing you. Not to mention he follows or adds you on everything — all the socials you've linked (you keep several associated to your account to lure in horny guys from mainstream sites), adds you on discord and any other messaging app you have (and you have no way of knowing which users are legitimate or if it's him, so you have to add them back and wait to find out each time). One of which you didn't even have listed on your page, so you realize he would have had to go through various apps and search the multiple variations of your username you use until finding you.

Telling him to fuck off accomplishes nothing, in fact he seems to derive great satisfaction from making you upset about it. Tells you that you should be glad — you wanted male attention, right? You wouldn't be posting yourself getting off and flashing your tits on camera for the world to see if you didn't, slut. He adds that insult to just about everything he says to you.

Blocking him only leads to him making new accounts (and then mocking you for trying to block him). You even reached out to a customer support team on one of your social media apps and got him permanently IP banned, which he then immediately circumvented in less than a few hours, making sure to inform you that changing one's IP is so easy and you're so dumb for thinking that would do anything.

But why you, specifically? Why decide to torment you out of every other girl doing this stuff? You don't know. You never asked for this. You never did anything wrong to anyone. You even scrolled back on your social accounts to see if you ever said anything someone could take offensively or had a negative interaction with someone, but found nothing. There's nothing to explain why this one man in particular has decided to come after you specifically, nothing you can think of at least. It feels like the universe just hates you.

It's actually kinda sad. You almost feel bad for this guy, who apparently has so much time to spare and nothing better to do than harass the same girl on the internet day in and day out. You did once shoot back a reply of don’t you have anything better to do?, which actually did make him stop… for about ten hours or so, then it was right back to it.

It's deserved, though, he thinks. E-girls are reprehensible. Taking advantage of guys’ loneliness for money.

Infuriating that you advertise something that he— well, that most guys want so bad, but don't actually give the real thing, only a simulation of it. Make them drool over you, while you hide behind the safety of the screen, far away from what those guys would do to you if they could get their hands on you.

And you know that too, don't you? You know how defenseless you are, know how much danger you'd be in if you teased without putting out like that to a guy in real life, and you do it anyway knowing you're untouchable, you must be so smug about it. Infuriating.

He's not like those simps of yours though, he finds you too morally reprehensible to be drawn to the curves of your body and the parts of you that you post and the sounds you make and how easy it is to imagine the softness of your skin and the way you feel and your warmth and the way you look directly into the camera as you moan and it feels like eye contact—

Anyway, he has standards. And self-respect.

Besides, he knows from stalking your social accounts — including your real ones with your real identity attached, separate from the others — that you have something like a boyfriend. Some guy who shows up in your pictures a lot. What a pathetic idiot. Who lets their girlfriend do this sort of thing? Even disregarding that, does this guy not know you’re meeting with him for your project too? He would never allow you to do something like that, were it him in that position. You must go after spineless guys who will let you walk all over them or something, and would only even accept boyfriends that allow you to do what you do.

That’s why, see, he would never accept something like that. Sure, there would be positives, like getting to see that sweet annoying smile and hear your happy obnoxious precious voice each and every day, and getting to touch you and be around you all the time, and you probably do really nice things for the person you’re with too, and he could always just force you to delete the accounts and never post yourself online again— but, whatever.

Point is, he’s better than stooping so low. He’ll keep living a respectable life, just like he does now — so he thinks as the phone alarm goes off, one of many set reminders to go send you more messages.

It's an awkward relationship, but you're pretty sure he doesn't hate you or anything, which is good. He's hard to read — he seems perpetually either bored or irritated, always slouched over, always maintaining that ‘I really wish I weren't here right now’ tone of voice, lots of heavy sighs or tsks scattered into his speech. Even when you agree to meet at the library to work on the homework and midterm project, he quickly establishes a pattern of being at least ten to fifteen minutes late (without any acknowledgement or apology at that), and frankly, you do the vast majority of the actual work, he just slaps his name on the corner next to yours once it's done.

The torment detracts from your sleep. You're late to your class more than once, trying to sneak in unnoticed by the professor and mumbling apologies to the students you have to slip by to get to your seat. Your partner doesn't seem to care much, at least — he just lazily glances over at you with a flat expression, then goes back to scrolling (he doesn't need to take notes, you'll just send him yours anyway).

He does step in to help when it's too difficult, you can't solve the problem yourself… which is how you realize that, in spite of being remarkably low-effort, he actually does understand the material, much better than you do at that. It's a bit embarrassing, since he makes it out to be so simple, but at least it somewhat compensates for all the work you do.

He's not particularly mean about it, he's just… not nice. The tone and choice of words tends to be not-so-subtly making you out to be dumb for not getting it, or that it's easy, or otherwise belittling.

…You really don't get that one? It's the exact same thing as the last one.

You give a sheepish smile and rub the back of your head.

Aha… sorry…

But it gets done, and that's what matters. You just walk away from each meeting feeling like an idiot, which isn't exactly a great feeling.

But even though you initially felt like the guy didn’t care for you, you quickly notice that he’s started to walk all the way back to your place after your meetings while you talk. You supposed he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t at least somewhat enjoy your company.

And you do try to make conversation. You ask about what other classes he takes…only to learn that he doesn't go to any other classes, since this is the only one where attending is required. He did the math, and he just has to do good on the finals for the other classes to pass, no need to show up for the tests and quizzes and lectures and stuff… and he did research into the professors to find ones where past students confirm they recycle the exact same tests and the past ones are posted online, and he's already got a good cheating method that's only been caught once in all the years he's used it… so there's no point in showing up, he says.

It's a very different mentality than yours, but you try to smile and refrain from saying anything negative. And you try interests and social life as topics, but quickly glean from what little he says that the guy has none of the latter and more or less just a phone and gaming addiction for the former.

Which you have no trouble believing, because good God, does the boy have a totally fried attention span. Even in your meetings, you swear he can't go five minutes without staring at his phone.

Oh, you like that too…?

That does end up helping you find a means to try and get closer. You manage to find one opening, something flash across the screen for some upcoming game. One you've been looking forward to as well.

Huh? You can’t like that thing. He likes that thing. It's not for females. It’s for people with good taste… it’s good… you can’t… someone like you would never be able to properly appreciate it… and now you’re just babbling away with that dumb smile while he’s going through a psychological crisis and rethinking every choice in life because of you. Does this put you two on the same intellectual level...? No, of course not, he has to quickly shake off any such doubts.

You were hoping to get a positive reaction, but you get silent bewilderment in his expression at first, for just a second.

Still, you’re supposed to be boring and a normie… you can’t just suddenly shatter the image of you he’s already constructed… and from the way you're talking about it, you know too much to just be pretending to like something for attention (which is the obvious automatic assumption for when females like media that's actually good and worth consuming).

Devastating. Now he has to consider the possibility that you do have interests and a personality besides being deceitfully sweet and whoring online.

But from your perspective, he just crosses his arms and shrugs.

Kind of, I guess.

And God, then you smile at him again. Every time you do that, it gives him some godawful tight-chested feeling, like you’re trying to kill him with psychic damage.

What gives you the right to be so happy right now anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be in constant distress, now? Is he not doing good enough of a job at tormenting you? You seemed upset, but clearly not upset enough, if you’re still emotionally stable enough to be nice to him. He has to break you, make you too distraught to even go on.

Online, you’re so mean, you never have anything nice to say, even though he’s not that mean to you — well, he could be worse, at least, which is basically the same thing.

Actually, he decides, how you behave in real life will be a good standard of how good he’s doing at making your life miserable. Once it starts to noticeably affect you even in real life, that means it’s sufficient.

But you prove resilient. Each day, you seem to get up, summon some resolve to still enjoy your life, and are still pleasant and friendly… or maybe you’re just really good at acting. Yes, obviously that’s it, since your whole sweetness thing is just an act in the first place.

On your end, the harassment gets worse. It comes in all hours of the day — does this guy not sleep? It’s almost hard to believe someone hates you this much, or even has the energy to keep this up… you start trying to just ignore it.

You tried threatening to report the guy for harassment, but he points out that he hasn’t threatened you with any real harm, and only targeted your public accounts, so no laws broken… and he’s already prepared by taking measures to— well, you don’t understand the spew of lingo that follows, but you gather that the jist is that it would be very difficult to trace him.

So you start to ignore it. You try your best to just not let it get to you, let the comments and messages go without acknowledgement or response. It’s actually somewhat relieving, if you just pretend it doesn’t exist. At first, when you start ignoring him, the messages get more frequent.

But then, it goes quiet for a day. Just around twenty-four hours, you don't get messages, nor comments.

It should make you feel relieved, you think, but it doesn't. Quite the opposite — you feel uneasy. Like something will happen.

He's getting bored, you see. You don't react as strongly anymore as you used to. You used to get so upset at all the messages he sent, and it was so fun to watch how you'd get all defensive and angry in your replies.

Then your replies got shorter, and now— what gives your the right to ignore him? It infuriates him. Dumb whore, treating him like you think you're so much better… or, the gut-wrenching thought passes through his mind, maybe you're busy, you’re probably visiting the guys you sleep around with, since someone like you could never be loyal to that boyfriend he's certain you have.

The only option is to progress things further. He has to think about that. He didn't really have a plan on where to go from here, but now he's started to think about the bigger picture, what he wants in the long term… and that's not going to go over well for you.

It takes some work and digging on his end, but it's worth it.

It's around three in the morning when your phone goes off. It just barely manages to wake you up. You think to yourself that you should remember to turn off the notifications for messaging apps… but for now, you sit up, groggily unlocking your phone. Seeing who the message is from, though, snaps you into full alertness.

A message that makes you go stiff, staring at your phone wide-eyed and slack-jawed, a cold knot of dread forming in your gut that quickly turns to an electrifying surge of pure panic as you read.

The name of your academic institution. The names, emails and phone numbers of your immediate family members. Your full, real name — and your address, down to the unit number.

Your heart sinks into your stomach. The glaring light hurts your tired eyes, but you can't look away.

You know he's just waiting on a response. Probably knows you're panicking, but knows you have no choice but to comply — and you're forced to give him the satisfaction of seeing you type back.

>What do you want from me?

It's only a few seconds before you get a reply.

>From now on, do what I want

>Or I ruin your life.

You hesitate a while before responding. Poor you, you must be so scared now that you're finally getting what you deserve. And even then, you just send back a ‘fine,’ even though it took you so long to respond. You were probably trying to think of how to respond, probably typed out longer potential replies, but decided on that to seem tough or something. That's actually almost endearing.

And oh, it's so, so satisfying to finally see you crumble, even if just a bit, the next day. For you to come shuffling into class for once with a downtrodden, nervous expression, making your way over to your spot without the usual greeting.

…Except that's also irritating. What makes you think you can just not say hello, now that you've established a routine of doing so every day of this class? For all you know, he's just the person you know in real life, so you're basically willingly choosing to potentially disappoint him. Not that you are disappointing him, but like, if he actually cared about your dumb little daily greeting, then he would be. He even gives you several extra seconds, and you still don't do it.

You're still fidgeting nervously, lost in thought when the mumbling directed at you pulls you out of your thoughts.

…Something wrong with you?

You seem to realize your sullen energy and attempt to fix it with a twitching, obviously forced smile.

O-oh, no, I'm just tired, haha… good morning!

He doesn't say anything back, just turns back to phone-scrolling as usual. You realize your melancholy must be showing on your face.

You're being overdramatic, too, he thinks. He didn't even give you any demands yet, since he decided it would be more fun to make you wait in suspense for a few hours or so. Seeing you squirm is funny, but really, you're acting like it's so much worse than it is. What a weakling, so sensitive.

It's just gonna be stuff you're used to anyway…

Which is somewhat true. You're used to the demand for private, custom content.

Men pay you sometimes incredible amounts of money for the stuff. Usually, the customization is about personalization — sometimes it's kind of sad, wanting you to say their name or that you love them while you look at the camera, and sometimes it's just more niche fetish stuff, like pictures of your feet or wearing a weird costume.

But everything this mystery man wants is different — the personalization has to do with the fact that it's painful, humiliating, or both. Moreover, he's never content with the first try.

Stuffing your holes with toys and sitting down on them so they go all the way in, specifically, ‘as many as you can fit’ — but even after the painful effort of getting one in each hole—

>That's not enough.

You can fit at least one more somewhere. And you're intentionally using the smaller toys, aren't you? You won't be able to do that next time, so don't try that again.

Then there's the command to get those clamps on your nipples you used in a video of yours a long time ago, the ones connected to each other by a chain, and to tighten them then pull hard enough for them to come off. You have to take a few deep breaths to summon the ability to do it, and even then, it takes a few tugs to get them to come off. By the time they do, your nipples are swollen and red and your eyes are watery from the sting, but nonetheless, a message comes through within a minute of sending the video.

>You didn't tighten them all the way first.

>Do it over.

Or the one to deep throat that one huge toy you have, the one you used in this one video a long time ago — which you now regret ever posting, since there's a reason that you never used that monstrosity again, much less in your throat. At first you're not even sure you can fit it into your mouth, but you force it somehow.

On and on the demands come. He's not paying for any of it, of course, but the premise is the same.

Still, it's not enough. Come on, you didn't even get it very far in, you have to at least get half down your throat. And you didn't hold the phone close enough, can't hear your gagging choking sounds.

>Do it again.

The timing is often terrible, shortly before or after your classes, or odd hours of the night, forcing you to stop whatever you're doing to meet the demand. Thankfully, though, at least you've never gotten a message from him during your meetups with your class partner — you're certain your distress would show on your face, and it would be hard to come up with an excuse for it.

It becomes such routine, and all happens so quickly, it feels surreal, like you're just forced to accept it and go with it. There’s no time to really process it, as you have to get back to doing your school work and going to class and trying to keep up with your regular video content, it's all so overwhelming, yet so simple, you just have to do what you have to do.

One moment you're slapping yourself in the face while you bounce up and down on a toy so long that it bruises your insides for some jerk that's blackmailing you, and running to class the next, desperately trying to rub at the marks on your face to make them go away.

You're worried that the stress is beginning to show. Your most recent quiz scores are lower than usual, you're getting less sleep. Your insides are always sore. You're paranoid and uneasy, and you know it has to be somewhat evident.

Some of the individual demands have lasting consequences, too. Once you were commanded to choke yourself with a belt on camera, specifically until it left bruises… which you begged and protested against because you had one of your class partner meet-ups scheduled for later the same day, but your tormentor said he didn't care and insisted, so you did it, forcing yourself to go through it… and sending an additional picture at the end just to show the purplish marks in detail, up close.

It wasn't the end of the world for your meeting though — the weather wasn't right for it, but you found something that covered your neck up, at least, so the bruises didn't show. That much, at least, allows you to be at ease… although your classmate seems to be in a particularly bad mood that day.

On another occasion, you find yourself laying on your side, gasping and wincing trying to force one of the larger toys you have into your ass, all the way to the base as instructed, toes curling as you pump it back and forth, in and out… only to be told you weren't supposed to touch yourself while you did it, so, predictably, you have to do it again, the ring of muscle clenching down as it's stretched — and, of course, the act leaves a remnant sensation lasting the rest of the day. You have to rush it too, or you'll be late, due to the horrible timing of the command.

You manage to get to class, but when you move to sit, an ache of pain runs up your spine from your poor abused hole, and you wince, face grimacing at the pain.

It doesn't go unnoticed. The guy next to you, ever observant to everything except the professor, casts a lazy glance over to you, looks you up and down before asking what’s the matter, albeit in a half-caring, bored tone of voice…

You give the oh, nothing, I'm fine! response, stammer out something about hurting your leg yesterday, and he merely gives you an 'ah' of acknowledgement before turning his gaze back down… he rests his chin against his hand so that his mouth is covered up, but you swear, you can detect a slight grin from the shape of his eyes. You suppose it checks out that he'd find your clumsiness amusing, even if it's a lie.

On and on it goes. All the time. Day in, day out. It starts off as once per day, but then your tormentor starts piling smaller requests on top of those. Even beyond the daily video, you get increasingly frequent messages at all times of the day — to take a picture of your tits or ass, or a short video of you fingering yourself, or some sort of angle or pose of your body, writing something on your skin, so on and so on.

He doesn't accept any delays, either. You only get a few minutes to fulfill a demand before getting an impatient follow-up asking what the hold up is. Sleep isn't an excuse either, so you're told, so you have to start turning your phone on loud at night to wake you if need be.

You sense a growing impatience. The frequency increases still, as does the intensity of the content you're forced to make. It's as if it's building up to something — surely it has to reach a limit, or he has to get bored, or he'll ditch you and find a new outlet for his sadistic thrills, you hope. You just hope it ends in a way that's positive for you… but you're afraid of the opposite. What if even after all this, he just ruins your life anyway? It's a very real possibility, one you begin considering increasingly as you think over the whole situation.

The increasing severity and number of demands makes you feel like he's getting more upset, as if you're doing something that makes him mad, even though you have no idea what that could be.

You are right, though.

He's also noticed how much more frequently he gets the urge to demand something from you. How much more the itch has grown, the compulsive need to see you hurting and degrading yourself more and more. You've long since passed the point where he has more videos and photos of you all to himself than those available online — he's been counting — but it's still not enough.

And with the realizations that he's engaging with you more, he realizes that he's also thinking about you more.

No, “more” isn't quite accurate. All the time. Constantly. You never leave his head, everything else feels like a distraction.

And that's only more infuriating. He's very self-aware, realizes it's getting worse, realizes you essentially occupy his thoughts every waking second.

Even then, the distractions aren't working. At one point he realized he literally cannot stop himself from messaging you, it's a compulsion, a need, and the realization of his own lack of self-control regarding it is maddening. He actively tried, told himself to wait until the next day, but just couldn't. Even if he plays games or watches whatever brain-rotting media he tries to consume, his thoughts keep drifting to you. Hell, ever since latching onto you, he’s stopped harassing other random women online in general, and that was pretty much one of his biggest hobbies in the past.

What gives you the right? To get inside his head like that? Make him constantly distracted and wondering about what you're doing, forcing him to keep tabs on you? What makes you think you can just come into his life and control him like this, and think you'll get away with it? You've more or less taken advantage of an innocent person who did nothing wrong to you. Used your body to exploit his weaknesses and manipulate him into doing all this.

You don't get to do that. You have to be held accountable.

You're constantly making him worry about you, what you're doing, who you're talking to, and not knowing is a maddening feeling. It feels like nausea, a sick feeling that completely consumes the mind, rendering it incapable of doing or focusing on anything else, only cycling the same obsessive rage and worry and paranoia until it becomes unbearable.

But there's a way to get rid of that, and give you what you deserve, and get what you owe him all at the same time.

He waits, only another week or so — a frustrating week, but spent planning ahead and gathering necessary stuff — but finally, given the timing, you send a text he was hoping you'd send asking about meeting up again, to finish up the project as the end of the semester approaches.

You're a bit caught off-guard by the message, not to mention how quickly he replies.

>Come over here.

You hesitate, re-reading to try and ensure that you're understanding correctly, and finally ask for clarification that he means to his place.

He says yes. Something about how he's supposed to have something delivered that he'll have to sign, and so he has to be at the apartment when that happens, so, y'know, best for you to come over.

Which is nice.

It's just… odd.

Inviting you over, even if for a required activity, feels very out of line with the person you've come to know, however surface-level said knowing may be. Then again, maybe this is the guy's way of trying to be nice. Everyone expresses appreciation differently.

You're still thinking on it when he adds another text saying that his roommate will be there, preemptively apologizes for any disturbance that will cause… well, you figure if someone else is there, it can’t be anything sinister. That helps you make up your mind, so you agree. At this point, you know each other well enough to warrant trust.

…It’s still pretty awkward, though. The apartment is about like a picture you would expect to see uploaded to the internet as a joke about male living spaces. Borderline barren, barring the computer and the bare minimum furniture and appliances needed to survive, plus some clothes and empty cans and such strewn in various places across the floor, all dark lighting and void of color.

That being said, you quickly realize the apartment is only a studio, and there’s only one bed. The roommate doesn't exist.

And something just feels wrong, in a way you can’t articulate. Like your instincts are urging you to leave. You feel uneasy. Goosebumps spread across your skin. Are you just being paranoid…?

There is something else, though, that immediately catches your attention. You notice that the wall isn’t exposed, rather, most of the room is covered with a layer of some sort of paneling, lining the wall almost as thoroughly as wallpaper. You inquire what it is.

Soundproofing.

An unpleasant answer, but he wouldn’t be so upfront about it unless it was for harmless reasons. You refrain from inquiring about the other odd things you start to notice — locks on some cabinets despite seemingly living alone, a roll of tape sitting on the desk with no discernable purpose.

As awkward as the tension is, you really have no option but to sit on the bed, as its the only surface other than the floor. You try not to contemplate how often the average college-aged boy washes bedsheets.

It occurs to you, though, that right now would be the worst possible timing for a message from your unknown harasser, and you certainly can’t take any photos or videos here… thus, just as you sit down and begin to work, you pick up your phone from where you set yours next to his, and type out a quick message, basically pleading with the unknown man to leave you along for the next few hours, because, as you explain, you literally can’t do anything for the time being.

You read it over, and hit send.

And before you can even put the phone back down, there's a vibration a mere arms-length away from you, as the other phone in the room lights up.

And there, in the notification that pops up on the screen, are the very words you just sent.

…

…

There's a few seconds where nothing happens.

Both your heads naturally turn to the sound the moment it happens, but after that, it's just… still. You’re frozen still, he’s frozen still. Both your eyes go wide, and the quiet seconds pass, processing the information before you.

And then, he sighs, body relaxing, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, muttering as if met with some major inconvenience.

God, why do you have to make this more difficult.

Besides, he already turned the lock that locks you in from the inside, even though you probably weren’t aware of what it was, so you’re already trapped anyway. And you squeal, of course, predictably, but that’s what the soundproof panels are for.

He's not particularly worried like he would have been any other time — this was the plan now anyway, but you're throwing things off schedule. Yet another transgression to hold you accountable for.

You do try to run. You at least deserve that much credit. He was so close to considering you a genuine marvel of human evolution, with how nonfunctional your survival instincts seemed to be.

But you’re sitting with your legs folded, so, you don’t have the time required to stand any chance of hopping up and running. The moment your legs start to move to stand, he’s already got you by the arm.

You even seemed to process everything a bit quicker than he would have thought. Maybe you’re not that stupid after all, just… a little less.

You still are incredibly stupid though. He’s almost surprised you agreed to come. So naive, so dumb, so trusting.

And so loud. Squealing like a little animal caught by a predator — which, well, isn’t too far off, but it still hurts his ears.

Shut up, shut up, shut up…

You can hear the growling voice in your ear, even now that he has your face pressed into the mattress, arm latched around your waist. You’re squirming so hard too, but even fighting with all the strength you can summon, it feels like trying to push back a brick wall. He seems to notice as much as you do.

…Is that actually the best you can do?

Not the first time he’s said those words to you — though before, it was over text, mocking you into filling all those perverse desires. It feels far more biting now.

And it’s so, so, so satisfying to see you realize just how dumb you are, as you put everything together. To watch you slowly grasp everything, realize just how badly you’ve fucked up. He even flips you onto your back just to see your face go through all the stages of emotion. It’s hilarious, and adorable too. The confusion and betrayal and panic and anger.

Oh, you get so mad. It’s actually the best part. You’re practically snarling now, reaching up to try and claw at him, kicking, baring your teeth. Any traces of the sweet demeanor you once held is long gone as you lash out… and then, a purely and entirely euphoric transition to fear.

Aw. Poor thing. After you struggle so much, your breathing gets faster, the fury dissipates as your eyes well with tears. The demands to let you go turn to miserable little pleas.

Maybe you can go back and forth. Maybe if he taunts you again you’ll get angry once more, and then if he slaps you you’ll get meek and fearful again? That would be nice, to have reliable ways to switch your emotions around, as if controlling them with a button. There will be plenty of time to find out later.

But now he gets the opportunity to finally tell you how long you made him wait for this. Mocks you for how naive you were. Brings up specifics from all those videos you sent him. Did you think it would just be left at that? Did you really not realize it wouldn’t be enough? No, of course you didn’t, and that’s why you ended up coming here like the dumb little slut you are.

And look, you even wore something so easy to flip up, practically easy access. You just have no shame at all, do you. See, it goes in perfectly because you’ve been using those toys for those videos, and… ah, so that’s— that’s what it feels like… holy shit… this is what you basically robbed him of all this time? Now you’ll really have to suffer to make up for it…

Well, you wouldn’t get it. It’s about what you did subconsciously, mind games and all that. His torment was intentional on your end, and that’s what matters. Now you'll get to spend a very very long time atoning for it. You should be happy. You won't even have to worry about making money anymore.

This wouldn’t be happening to you if you didn’t do what you did to him, you know. It’s your fault. He tells you so. And when you look up at him, eyes welled with tears, stammering out a question of what he means—

What did I ever d-do to you…?

—he realizes that it’s… difficult to give that question a concrete answer.

What did you do, really...?

The only problem that remains is how you rushed things. He was at least going to wait until you finished the project, but now it’s incomplete… do professors grant extensions if your partner goes missing…?

#bro is majoring in being a menace #.sc #the modern au trio is now the modern au quartet 😤 #need them to get together and share captive-holding tips with each other

[livwritesstuff]

I’ve got birthdays on the brain, so now I’m wondering how the guys handle the girls birthdays over the years and if they have any fun traditions as a family?

Oh yeah birthdays are definitely a Big Deal in the Harrington house. I feel like that comes from a combination of Eddie never having enough money to have a real birthday celebration growing up and Steve never having people who cared in the way he needed.

I think the way birthdays gets celebrated changes over the years and as the girls get older, but in general the conversation usually starts with we can do whatever you want (within reason, Steve usually interjects before things can get out of hand). When the girl are little, they do everything from hosting a formal princess tea party (Hazel’s sixth birthday — Eddie spent a month thrifting all the china cups and plates and saucers) to renting out a skate park after hours for laser tag (Moe’s 11th — Steve barely refrained from totally wiping the floor with a bunch of fifth-graders).

Once the girls hit middle school, they start wanting different things — usually big sleepovers with all their friends, but Hazel will sometimes ask for a shopping day instead, and for Robbie’s sixteenth birthday she bartered for her fourth lobe piercings (which Steve was happy to oblige given that it’s not exactly a big ask, and she’d done the second and third ones on herself which….wasn’t ideal).

No matter what the plan ends up being, they usually do the standard cake and ice cream and presents type of deal, and they definitely have some unspoken traditions that weren't necessarily planned, per se, but happen annually nonetheless.

Without fail, Eddie always gets all sad the night before a birthday because, "It's your last day ever being [insert age here]."

It first happened when Moe was about to turn two and Eddie realized that the year he’d spent telling everyone about his one-year-old baby (and it had been a seriously fun year too — the best one yet) was undeniably over, and he wasn’t ready to admit that Moe wasn’t really even a baby anymore. He spent the whole night before her second birthday snuggling her and bemoaning to Steve about how, “the merciless passage of time has claimed yet another victim”.

It turned into an annual thing — Eddie making a whole show out of telling the girls to stop growing up, which they totally eat up when they're little, and pretend to be exasperated by when they're teenagers (even though they still love it).

I also think Eddie would be the party mastermind, whereas Steve likes to focus on the little things.

Birthday morning breakfasts look like a whole plate with their name spelled out in pancake letters, and a little too much syrup and berries and a swirl of whipped cream with a candle sticking out of it, and Steve ties a bunch of balloons to their designated chair at the kitchen table, and he spends the whole rest of the day making sure that even the mundane moments are making them feel special and celebrated.

#are we birthday lovers or birthday haters? #or somewhere in the middle #I hate my own birthday but love everyone else's #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads

[chitteringcicadaeyes]

my “Noir” Max hc

more rambling below the cut

I have so much to say omggg please bear with me- but I started thinking about Noir!Max ideas after i rewatched gameplay of ‘The Devils Playhouse’

I looked online to see other ppl’s ideas of what Noir!Max would look like and it was all super cool! but I wanted to try and put my own personal twist on the thought (absolutely no disrespect to those artist btw this is all just my personal ideas)

imo, i don’t think Noir!Max would act Noir?? ig, cause in my head whenever Sam goes all serious detective mode it makes sense for his character since it’s shown he’s always wanted to be a detective/cop ever since he was v young and i’ve made personal hc’s about him always really loving Noir detective/cop media

Max on the other hand hasn’t really shown he cares about being a detective/cop, even as a kid and will just go whenever Sam goes. I also find that a Noir!Max doesn’t hit the same note for me as Noir!Sam. Whenever we see Noir!Sam for the first time it really puts into perspective how much Sam relies on Max to keep calm and have fun in his day to day job. He goes against his character completely as soon as he thinks Max’s is dead and it’s a great surprise to Sam’s established personality. With Noir!Max we already know Max is hyper violent and impulsive, sure taking it up a notch can still be interesting but it’s not like Max is going against his whole character like Noir!Sam does. I want to reach a similar type of shock with my interpretation of “Noir” Max

I took lot’s of inspo from the 1997 cartoon series! Specifically from ep.4 ‘Max’s big day’ in the scene where Max is holding what he thinks is a dead Sam and starts bawling his eyes out. It’s played comedically which makes sense for the show but i thought it was still an interesting way to characterize Max’s seeing a dead Sam (even if the cartoon isn’t canon). In ‘The Devils Playhouse’ one of Max vices is extremely depressed and glum showing off Max’s more melancholic personality trait. Max in that same game says (one of my fav lines) “Oh Sam, when I die i’m taking you down with me!” whenever Sam wonders if he should be happy or worried about that; Max responds with, “I see it more as an inevitability!” showing of Max’s dependency on Sam. There’s also a running gag through out the whole series where Max says “I will now weep openly”. All of these small moments in game encouraged my thought process of my “Noir” Max

Whenever Max sees Sam with his brain stolen, in my AU i imagine he absolutely loses his mind and just starts crying non stop, It’s so bad he can barley speak without sniffling, hiccuping or just in general being a complete and utter mess. I think it’d be a fun surprise on Max’s usual charismatic and controlled personality and show off how much Max’s depends on Sam to be happy. I also think it’d be a great way to be more serious without losing all of the games comedy, like many comedic scenes could show of Max’s trying to interrogate certain characters but he’s barely audible due to his hysterics. In other more serious scenes Max could yell at other characters when they say he’s being over dramatic. “My life is ruined!! What’s the point of pummeling criminals senseless If i don’t got Sam to watch!!!” and so on

These are all my ideas and personal interpretations of a “Noir” Max! I haven’t seen someone else take this specific route on Max’s character yet but if there has been id love to see it! in the end I really liked what i did and i hope u do too or think it’s neat idrk lol, thanks for reading btw!!

#digital art #fan art #sam and max #sam and max freelance husbands #freelance husbands #sam and max fanart #sam and max hit the road #girl stinky #sybil pandemik #“oh sam when you die i’m taking you down with me #I HOPE YALL ENJOYYY #btw i apologize in advance for my bad grammar i hope it’s still eligible

[fraudulent-cheese]

Actually no, i want to expand on my relative dislike of WT. Because when people talk about this season's faults, i BARELY see people mentionning the complete flatterning of like half it's cast!

Oh sure, people are super willing to throw shit at TDA and especially TDAS for it's flanderisation of characters, but outside of some rogue posts by mutuals, i don't see ANY OF YOU pointing the finger at World Tour when i'd argue it's especially eggregious.

Owen's the easiest example of this, and while it didn't start this season it got so much during it. Nearly all of his lines revolve around food, his aerophobia, or Izzy for a single episode. His relationship with Alejandro is also super indicative of this; im willing to accept the HC that he was aware of Alejandro's dislike of him and just wanted to win him over, but that's absolutely not what the writters intended, no way in hell. He's just completely oblivious to his shitty behavior when he seemed at least somewhat aware of Heather's shifty behavior back on Island, or at least able to stand up for himself (shoutouts to that one Action episode). It's not fun to watch, either.

Bridgette too had her personality reduced to one or two traits, for either comedy reasons (because apparently people making out 24/7 is funny) or story reasons (establishing Alejandro as a threat who uses flirting and his general attractiveness to advance his strategy) and it suckssssss because she was! an actual character! and World Tour especially benefits from having a 'straight man' type character that can look at the other's weirdness and react to it like a normal-ish person! That and she could be an interesting presence to have on Team Victory, with her friendships with Leshawna and Courtney for instance.

DJ too is a BIG victim of the flanderisation thing; his personality is dumbed down to just being a huge scaredy cat, and his character is just The Curse. That's all he does and that's all he is, all he talks about. And that sucks because he too, was an actual person in Island and even Action! Sure, he was sometimes a pushover and had an accident-prone bunny, but he was also kind and could actually go out of his way to play pranks on people! But all of that is just gone in WT.

There's also the characters that weren't flanderised, and more just. Written entirely out of character. Outside of the entire Love Triangle (which i will get to) the biggest example of this is Leshawna to me. The writters straight forget the episode in Action where she's entirely dsitrustful of the Pizza they were offered (which did turn out to be tampered with) due to Chef being uncharasterically nice to them. Guess what Alejandro was doing. Being overly nice to her out of nowhere. Frankly she fell victim to the same thing Bridgette did; needing to be sacked for Alejandro's villany to be better established.

Ok fuck i need to mention the Love Triangle too because while people complain about it alot i don't think they complain about the correct stuff. i'll go rapid fire because it's been talked to death however; Gwen's liking of Duncan is a retcon, her acting like this is out of character for her frankly, Duncan's out of character by trying to emotionally manipulate his ex and the lore established to justify it makes it worse (remember the "At least im straight with people" line?), Courtney is villanised from even before this point which while her anger might've been targetted at the wrong person she was justified in being upset imo, Courtney's entire character is thrown out of a window in general this season, blah blah blah.

I'll end on the whole "the writters forgetting entire character traits/arcs" Cody still hitting on Gwen this season makes no goddamn sense and is super uncomfortable to watch. He's really such a nothing character man. Sierra deserved better than being a manic pixie stalker girl.

#cheese posting #for the love triangle thing: doesn't help that gwuncan's way better as friends AND worse than romantic duncney imo #string cheesing #tdwt #total drama #yeah im main tagging this #td owen #td bridgette #td dj #td leshawna #not tagging the love triangle/cody because it could count as character hate and im not gonna be an idiot

[tobiasdrake]

Could you tell us something underrated about Bulma? For being around since literally the very beginning, I find she’s not talked about as much.

Bulma is the scariest person in the Dragon Ball universe. The anime softens a lot of her edges. And, like, she's not a total monster; She cares about things like people not being killed by genocidal assholes too.

But she is such an asshole and I love it. Bulma is the character I relate to most in Dragon Ball.

(Also she has an unshakable faith in Goku and he'll always be the number one martial artist in her eyes, and any man that wants to be with her needs to respect that.)

For starters, it's worth noting that the naming convention of Bulma's family is called out as weird even in-universe. Nobody bats an eye at characters being named after fruit or vegetables or rice or the Dairy Special Forces but they draw the line at underwear.

That's weird, Bulma. Your name is weird. Your father Briefs is weird. Your sister Tights is weird. Your son Trunks is weird. Your daughter Bra is weird. Why is your family like this?

Nearly every single person in the cast is someone who Goku initially had to fight in some way or another. Bulma is no exception, though their battle took place as early as issue #1.

When shooting a 12-year-old in the face with a gun failed, Bulma resorted to manipulation and subterfuge, and thus the most important relationship in the entire Dragon Ball universe was born.

Though Goku would not be the only person whose arm Bulma twisted, as this initial journey also sees her enslave a sentient being to do her bidding.

Despite ironically filling the role of a Buddhist monk in the original Journey to the West, this opening arc lays a lot of groundwork for who Bulma is. She tricks Goku and enslaves Oolong to coerce assistance in her quest to conjure up a magically-generated boyfriend (or infinite strawberries).

...then again, Tang Sanzang imprisoned Sun Wukong in the original so maybe Bulma's a better adaptation than I gave her credit for.

Point is, Bulma's a fireball. Even Goku sees it.

In the first arc, we also see her get accustomed to calling on Goku like he's her Pokemon.

Bulma is not a martial artist. She knows next to nothing about the implicate complexities of the art. Though she does enjoy being on the outer fringe of it and watching from a distance.

Well. Not from that much distance, because she always has the best seats in the house. Courtesy of inappropriate violence with firearms.

Not only is Bulma complicit in this - they clearly discussed it in advance, based on Oolong's remark and Bulma's knowing smile - but in the 23rd she actively makes it happen.

Sitting in the nosebleeds is for peasants; Bulma is a princess.

I should probably note that after Lunch moves on and leaves the group, Bulma doesn't lose access to violent backup. She just trades Lunch out for Chi-Chi.

The Battle of the Soccer Moms is the best part of the 25th's Junior Division. There's only room for one Alpha Bitch in these audience stands.

Notably, it doesn't take long for her relationship with Goku to grow into a genuine friendship. Following this first arc, Bulma goes out of her way to hang out with Goku when she can and is always excited to see him.

Fun fact, despite the fact that Bulma's boyfriend Yamcha is actively living with them at the time, Bulma's dad ships her with Goku.

No love for Yamcha in this house. Notably, when they're six years older and it's not fucking weird, Bulma herself starts to agree.

But it's honestly best for everyone that this never became a romance. Bulma would have been even more miserable with Goku than she was with Yamcha, and having them hook up would deprive us of one of the greatest platonic male/female friendships in anime.

I'm not saying Vegeta is a replacement goldfish for Goku who got married and became unavailable this same day.

...but I'm not not saying that.

So far as martial arts go, her practical knowledge of the art is simple: Goku is a) invulnerable and b) infinity powerful, and that's all she needs to know. Nobody matches Goku. Ever.

You might think that this unyielding confidence in Goku as the Supreme Warrior would cause some conflicts for Bulma. Her boyfriend Yamcha is one of Goku's rivals, and has his eye on the Tenkaichi Budokai medal.

You'd be wrong. Bulma knows exactly who she's rooting for.

It's Goku. It's always been Goku. It's always going to be Goku. Bulma watches Yamcha and Krillin gush over how well they plan to do in the tournament and her takeaway is "LOL Goku's going to school both of you clowns."

This attitude makes it really funny to imagine what her relationship with Vegeta must be like, I gotta say. That Goku will always be #1 in Bulma's eyes can't be doing good things for Vegeta's insecurity.

But I digress.

Bulma is an exceptional scientist who comes from an exceptional scientific background. She's from one of if not the richest families in the world courtesy of her father inventing revolutionary shrinking technology that changed the entire nature of how products are transported.

You can put anything in a Capsule Corp. hoi-poi capsule. Throughout the series, we see not just vehicles stored in these capsules, but portable homes, weapons, and her father's pornography collection.

For her part, Bulma's a chip off the old block. I've spoken at length in the past about Bulma's invention of the Dragon Radar, trivializing what was meant to be a holy quest of virtue and turning the miracle dragon Shenron into her own personal plastic surgery vendor. She was 15 years old when she made that.

One year later, she extrapolated her father's shrinking technology into a portable device that safely applies its principles to people.

But both of those devices pale in comparison to the greatest invention of her life.

No, not the kid. Though he's cool too.

In a sense, despite being out-of-focus for most of it, the entire Cell Arc is Bulma's masterpiece. It's a proxy war between two mad scientists over the fate of the Earth. Seeking to kill Son Goku and avenge the Red Ribbon Army, Dr. Gero destroyed the world with his Androids.

Bulma took exception to that. And by "took exception", I mean she bent the time-space continuum over her knee and spanked it.

Trunks's journey through time is the culmination, both of Bulma's impossible super-genius and of her unyielding faith that Goku is the answer to any problem that needs to be solved with violence.

Dr. Gero's master stroke was to flood the world with murderous Androids. Bulma's response was to load a bullet named Goku into a gun named Trunks and fire it through time to put it between his eyes. Everything that transpired from there was the consequence of their two plans colliding.

The happier future we get to know in the Buu Saga is the world that Bulma made happen. Because the woman who would make a personal assistant out of our Great Green God's greatest miracle had the audacity and the irreverence to violate causality itself.

#dragon ball #dragon ball z #bulma

[taradactylus]

Been off from tumblr a bit but I just wanna share my general thoughts about TSAMS, especially today's episode...

‼️Quick warning for suicide and self harm mention‼️

I feel betrayed. I legit cried. Out of embarassment, betrayal, and pure but well-reserved anger.

I'm not going to be quiet about how to show handled Sun's problem. Not one fucking media type ever dares to normally bring up suicidal problems, the people who suffer from this, the amount of kids and adults who DIE from such thoughts. This isn't about the overly edgy teenagers who want to normalize cutting yourself is okey and cool. This is about the people who suffered for months and years with such conditions while the world made fun of them or ignored their calls for help. Ignored the signs.

USA doesn't have much of a public transport where the show is going on. But here we do. And a lot of trains are late every day. Late for hours because of "mechanical issues". 8 out of 10 times the mechanical issue is a local kid who jumped front of the train. A teenager fed up with life. An adult who lost their way. An ederly too impatient for death.

I have waited months. Months. To see how Sun deals with it. A character I fell in love with not in a romantic sense, a character who shared way too many of my own problems from hallucinations from abuse till betrayal. A character who was pushed and pulled their entire life around people who slapped you then said they love you. I wanted to see how he heals out from it.

The signs were there. Everywhere. Sun said it out loud once that he at least fantasized about death. EVEN OLD MOON KNEW ABOUT THIS! He literally told New Moon Sun would be capable of doing it.

So why... why through Miku, the character used as the "weird fandom girl" symbol do they bring up such a delicate topic? A topic that is not delicate because you have to tip toe around the people who live with self destructive thoughts day and night, but delicate because it matters to be properly heard out AND NO ONE LISTENS!

Not one fucking media listens. A lot of us out there rely on fandoms. Stories we can escape to because the world never listens. And call me a self-projector all you want dear creators or whoever writes the story, but you either just pulled the cheapest and most dumbest way to close off a story line with solving Sun's problems off-screen, or you just legit don't give a fuck about people who "self-projected".

Honestly, what if I did? What if in a sense, I saw myself in Sun? A Sunshine of a character ruined and changed by the things that happened to him. Am I not allowed to relate to him? Am I an annoying "fan-girl" for caring about how he heals because I myself have no idea how to do it either? Or am I like Miku for hoping someone calls out on his behaviour because that's something I've wanted my entire life and never got?

And here I am, still somehow hoping Sun is lying. That he is in denial. That there is more to what was shown... but honestly? How long should I wait and hope while the character I started to like is now becoming a bit too toxic?

And with all due respect, I'm taking this episode personally. The creators watch the fandom. Probably have their secret accounts to see what the people theorize. And if Sun is not lying, and suicide is an annoying topic and we are self-projecting too much onto Sun, with all due respect, dear creators... grow the fuck up and educate yourself.

I don't need the world to pity my ass for having self-harming habits, wishing to die and even attempted suicide before (I'm getting my ass to therapy in the meantime so do not worry about me), but all I want from content creators to fucking educate themselfes before bringing up such topics. TO CARE A BIT MAYBE?!

I have survived my worst times, but not everyone does (it's not about who is weaker or stronger, only utter guilt held me back, without that I'd be long gone), andI want for those who has no help feel like they're heard and seen. Cause literally that's all itt takes sometimes to maybe save someone's life.

So yeah. I'm utterly disappointed in this episode. Not because I want the world to know that I'm suicidal and everyone should tip toe around me and "omg pls give me attention" ect ect ect...

Im disappointed because I had hopes for TSAMS to maybe, maybe be an example and bring this topic up normally for a change. But well... here goes my hope for an educational approach of suicide and self harm in a popular show.

#tsams #sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #sams #tsams sun #tsams moon #sams moon #sams sun #the sun and moon show sun #tw: suidice #tw: sucidal thoughts #tw: suicide #tw: self harm #tw: self destruction #I hate that tagging here is awfully bad too #So yeah.... bit of a venting? #Also guys I swear Im okey Im getting my ass that therapy and regulating my life as much as possible #even have a buddy system fir safety measures #And by now I have a lot to hold on #But I truly just wanted to see Sun say something about how was he truthfully coping #and if they really solved that off screen.... #I might even quit the show for a while #Definetly gonna take a break for a week #Because this hurted a lot #But this is a call for war and I'm not gonna shut up about this

[yesimwriting]

how do you think the canon events of saltburn would’ve maybe played out a bit differently if lovie was there? do you think there’s a chance that it SOMEHOW could’ve prevented felix’s death and everything else from happening?? I’m just curious abt any thoughts you might have on this honestly

i've gotten versions of this question in my inbox before, and i even have some drabbles/general thoughts about this in my drafts

but bc i am writing/planning out a longer fic that will focus on the actual plot of saltburn more, questions like this are hard to answer without spoiling that,, but i feel like the way you worded this question makes it easier to give general thoughts on lovie's role in the plot

and bc most of lovie's influence on the plot comes from character dynamics, this is a bit of a character analysis on felix, oliver, and lovie and how they interact

this came out way longer than expected

lovie would be both a catalyst and an inhibitor to felix's death in oliver's eyes

felix and lovie are so close, so attached at the hip, oliver starts to view them as a single entity, a unit. this isn't an immediate thing, but the longer oliver's around them and the more desperate and delusional he becomes, the more their identities merge.

now, bc lovie's "value" comes from her proximity to felix, felix will always inherently be "more" to oliver. however, this intrinsic "more" quality that felix possesses is dangerous. it's part of the reason i think oliver kills felix. too much of a good thing--that's what felix is.

felix is so perfect, you let him consume your soul without even realizing it. even though lovie is great and a piece of felix, she's so much safer. because of this, her existence makes it easier for oliver to swallow the thought of turning on (and getting rid of) felix. because a more attainable, more manageable 'version' of him will still be around.

also oliver starts to want lovie more in certain ways because felix wants her. if he can get lovie (especially before felix), that makes him more like felix. it's part of the process of oliver shifting from wanting felix to wanting to be felix.

despite the fact that lovie makes the thought of letting go of felix more bearable, lovie's presence would also make it hard to get rid of felix.

logistically, they're rarely apart. it's hard to poison someone when there's always a witnesss. and, if oliver only wanted to kill one of them, poisoning wouldn't be as easy because lovie and felix share almost everything.

also, oliver is smart and selfish. he knows that killing one would devastate the other--they're a set. oliver doesn't want a depressed lovie, and he doesn't want a depressed felix. he knows that getting rid of one throws their entire dynamic and world out of balance. their grief and depression wouldn't be fleeting, it would be all consuming.

if lovie lost feix, or vice versa, they'd each be depressed in a way that takes all the fun out of it for oliver. if either of them is that heartbroken, it's harder to project any manic pixie dream girl fantasies onto them.

general notes on oliver's feelings for lovie and felix:

i think oliver would eventually grow fond of their group dynamic. not fond in a comfortable way, especially at first, because of how obsessive oliver's character is and because of how close lovie and felix are.

but with time, it's easier to feel secure in his place in their life. he starts to want them as a bonded pair. a big part of that definitely comes from his voyeuristic tendencies. it gets to the point where it's not always sexual. he likes watching them interact, watching them take care of each other because of the intimacy of it all. i could write a drabble focusing on oliver and voyeurism when it comes to lovie and felix to explain it more if anyone wants me to elaborate

also, because there's two of them and oliver manages to engrain himself into their dynamic (to a certain extent), his obsession becomes a little less overwhelming. don't get me wrong, he's still unhinged, but the ability to place all of that onto two people stabilizes him to an extent. there's a balance to it.

i think this 'balance' would make it more likely for felix and lovie to live, but i can also see oliver jumping to lock their relationship down by killing off everyone else in felix's family faster. especially if he felt like felix was starting to lose interest. the grief and solitude would make felix rely on oliver, and lovie would follow. it'd be just the three of them, just like oliver wanted.

a more canonical saltburn ending

as a final side note, i think even if everything worked out exactly the same, lovie is the most likely to live. if you think about it, oliver only killed off the cattons, which lovie isn’t. even though he views lovie as a part of felix, she'll always be the 'safer' version of him.

he'd keep her around as a sort of token, a reminder of that summer, the cattons, and most importantly felix. lovie's life and presence would become a memorial dedicated to felix in oliver's eyes.

however, oliver is impulsive and easily startled. if lovie found out that he killed felix (or anyone if we're going with the scenario that oliver decides to keep both felix and lovie and no one else), he'd probably get scared and impulsively kill lovie.

if lovie found out oliver lied, i think he'd try to manipulate her into keeping it a secret at first, but if she reacted the 'wrong' way he'd feel 'betrayed' enough to snap and kill her without thinking.

i can also see him trying to preemptively discredit her, maybe making felix think lovie has been using him, but i think he'd know it probably wouldn't work. lovie and felix are together constantly, in what moment would she have had the time to betray him 😭

#ask #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #bestfriend!felix #felix catton x reader #jacob elordi x reader #bestfriend!felix x reader

[echoes-in-echoclan]

Took long enough- Here are the kits!! The sweeties <3

Also! Important announcements! Don't let the wall of text spook you, it's all good things

I guess this is a general rundown of the future of EchoClan over the summer! I'm having so much fun with this Clan, but I also have other responsibilities. I'll be working part time and working on my portfolio. I've decided to pursue rigging (for 3D animation), and in order to have any chance of jobs/internships I need to start on that. So that'll hopefully be one of my main focuses! Another thing I want to do is focus more on my personal art. I've neglected it a lot this semester, and I've been wanting to go back into things with my OCs and stories. Within the next few months I'll try making a personal art blog too. So all that to say, EchoClan won't be my #1 top priority over the summer. But worry not! I'll still be working on it! I'm going to try to get more of a backlog before I step back so you guys will still have 1-2 pages a week.

Speaking of posting every week, these next few weeks will be a little bit more radio silent on my end. I'll be going overseas for two weeks to study abroad! I'm incredibly excited, but that also means posting moons will be put on hold for a little. Any asks will be answered without any pictures or with traditional art! But again, no moons will be posted until I return. I think I'll post one more moon before I leave? But we'll see!

I participate in Art Fight every year in July! So during July I will be focusing on that rather than asks or moons. More info coming soon!

I'm also toying around with the idea of a timeskip. I have skipped all the way to moon 60 in the game, and I am stopping there for now. When we reach moon 60, I will be giving you guys the choice of whether or not I timeskip. If a timeskip is chosen, more options for the amount of time + circumstances will be provided. I want to keep providing new and exciting stories for EchoClan! And if that means doing a time skip, then so be it!

Thank you all for being so patient with me these past few months. School really kicked my butt, and even then I still have a few more finals + my study abroad trip. You all are the best <3 big things are coming to this clan that I can't wait to show you!

TL;DR: EchoClan is still going and will still keep happening but I'm also doing other things

#ec art #ec announcement #announcement

[whumpster-dumpster]

(this ask ended up getting much more rambly than expected haha)

hello, i love your blog and whump in general and i would like to try and get involved in the community.

thing is, i feel really weird/embarrassed for liking whump (even before i knew the term). like ashamed i guess? (im not sure how to put it into words exactly). so i dont want to tell any of my irl freinds that im into it/put it on my main since some of my irl freinds follow my main.

and i do draw and i used to write but i dont really know how to draw/write whump yk? (though i have written whumpy things before, when i was like 10, they were really shit though by virtue of me being a 10 year old) and i feel too shy to put any of my work out into the internet for all to see, espcially my writing because i havent actually written prose fiction in. years. i have played dnd (and my campaigns do tend to get pretty whumpy) but i dont think the experiance of roleplaying it really translates well to the internet?

so i was wondering if you have any tips for 1 getting involved in the whump community and 2 managing feeling embarrased about liking whump

Here's an equally rambly answer! First off, welcome to the community! You're definitely not alone in liking it or in feeling embarrassed about liking it. A lot of us, myself included, have our moments where we feel weird for our interest.

I can't tell you how to get over that because I still feel embarrassed sometimes but pinpointing your reasons for liking it can make it easier to explain if someone inquires. Is it the aesthetic? The drama, the adrenaline? The character development? Is it a coping mechanism? A kink? We've got community members whose reasoning is all across the spectrum. Understanding your reason can be reassuring and help it make sense.

As for the shyness, a lot of us make side blogs for whump content, so it can be a little more isolated/private if we feel awkward about IRL/main blog followers seeing. If your art style is easily recognizable as yours, that might not be the best solution but also remember you don't have to post what you draw (or write.) You can create whump content just for you (and if you decide you do eventually want to post some, that will have served as good practice.)

There are whump prompt lists coming out all the time that can be used for art or writing if you don't know what you want to make. You should look up the whump wheel, it's a fun one!

Re: getting more involved in the community: believe it or not, there are whump roleplayers floating around in the tags pretty often! They'd probably enjoy another roleplay partner on the scene! Beyond that, liking people's posts, reblogging them to that side blog if you decide to make it, coming into their inboxes to say you enjoy their content, sending in prompts if whump fic writers are asking for some, posting prompts of your own if there's a type of whump content you notice lacking and want to inspire someone to explore...There are monthly whump events happening all the time too if you want to participate or just reblog to help promote them. You could also ask if another whump artist wants to do an art trade with you. Those are some of the best ways to dive in!

I hope that was helpful. Have fun!

#whump #whump community #answered ask #anonymous