#im so sorry this had no art i am trying to get these out fast and make it quality qwq

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Brittle is Devotion

♡ featuring: ex-husband!toji x f!reader

♡ summary: it's been a while since you've seen your ex-husband, and on a drunken night, buried feelings emerge. wc: 12.2k+ (bruhhh)

♡ cw/tw: mentions of violence/blood, angst/comfort, rekindled feelings, rough sex, missionary, prone bone, full-nelson, overstimulation, cervix fucking, creampie, m/f receiving, throat fucking, sadism/masochism, dom/sub dynamics, squirting, fingering, praise/degredation kink, dumbification, edging, breeding kink, feral toji mmm, pet names (angel, sweetie, baby)

notes: good morning!! hope everyone is having a lovely day, i am so so so so sorry i haven't posted in so long i didnt abandon the account!! i've just been getting it together before the semester starts, and i didnt expect for it to be this long :(( im very tired but ill try to get some stuff out in the next couple of weeks, most likely long fics too. ty so much, and srry for any spelling mistakes. art by ilameys_ on ig! <;3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Picking up the pieces after Toji is rough. The divorce was bad enough, and you currently have an aching pain stilling in your chest that makes it hard to take the shallowest breaths. It hammers in the tight confines of your ribcage, and as you sob into your pillow the only relief you desire is sleep, so that you may have temporary solace from the grief wrecking your brain. Your new apartment feels entirely too shallow. There’s no crumby television to use because you were too broke to afford the higher-end appliances, or that creaking mattress you both squeezed into until you could thrift a reasonable headboard. You missed the 60s style tiles painted a horrific green in your kitchen, and the shower that ran out of hot water every other day. It was terrible, downright unlivable for most, but you had each other.  

It hurts more because you love him. So much. Unbearably, to the point where you screamed at the top of your lungs until your throat scratched through angry hot tears, begging him to care for a moment, to give you a reason to stay. Countless times, threatening to walk out if he didn’t endeavor to change. But he never believed you. He thought you’d never leave, because all you had was him.  

And it was true, for years it was. Toji was your dream man; funny and thoughtful. It wasn’t conventional kindness, but it was his. Money didn’t matter—even as you enjoyed a frozen meal on the floor of your empty apartment in the first couple months of moving in with him, you had a smile on your face. Even when your friends and family begged you not to marry him, because they couldn’t stand the sight of him and his arrogant, sometimes aggressive candor, you went on with it anyway. You knew who he really was at heart.  

He was your first everything, you felt if he left, you’d melt to nothing and become a shell of who you once were, because Toji had become an extension of you. You waited for him to get home, had dinner, and slept through the outside commotion of cars and bar fights; his securing arm locked around you, hand cradling your head and legs intertwined. There was no one like him.  

He knew that and got greedy.  

To you, the change was fast, but it’d been spreading like a nasty mold for years. You’d sunk so deep you hadn’t noticed the drought until you reached the bottom. He taught you love, then pulled away; separated himself with additional shifts and pathetic excuses. In turn you punished yourself, showered him with heavier instances of love and endearment, and convinced yourself you needed to try harder. If the sex wasn’t daily, you gave him more. If he didn’t like the food, you learned how to be a better chef. If the house wasn’t clean, you scrubbed top to bottom. Wringing a tired towel, dry of sacrifice. Chasing after him until the soles of your feet blistered. Still, not a smidge of praise or approval came to fruition. When he did—which was rare—those peppered spaces ignited a lasting burn in your heart, keeping withering fire alive.  

Soon, those fleeting kisses and distant pauses weren’t enough, and he didn’t care enough to change. You’d plead and cry at his feet, and he’d scoff and walk past you.  

“We’ll talk about it later”, he’d say more often than not. You didn’t have the confidence to leave, and he consumed himself with whatever underground work he participated in, while you decayed in a declining marriage.  

A grimace on his face, laid back on the couch and looking at you expectingly, as if you would drop to your knees and service him in a heartbeat—but you did exactly that. And you were tired, utterly tired of pulling the emotional and mental leaden baggage on your own. It was heavy, and you were crushing yourself underneath it. You still loved him with every inch of your being, and you’d do it all for him, but it couldn’t be just you anymore. He came home one fateful night to you sitting at the dining table, spotlighted under the stark glass pendant lamp in your dark apartment, dejection that foreshadowed the unfortunate end.  

“Do you love me?” He gazed at your solemn face and scratched his head.  

“Mhm.”  

“Will you change?”  

“No.”  

That’s what you needed to hear. The next week, while he was at work, you gathered your clothes and measly possessions to leave. You sobbed the entire way through, shaking with uncertainty and fear of the unknown—unsure about a future without him. As you slid the dissolution of your marriage on the counter, the sudden reality made you unable to control your knees as you dropped to the floor, and tears spilled down your cheeks and freckled the papers. Luckily, Shoko was there to comfort you and help pack your things. The corners of that confinement spared a gentle, loving memory, and vitriol was left in its wake. Turning back to its hollowness for the last time, you imagined Toji, plopping onto the couch as he’d usually do to watch some late-night television show or going to bed. Like you weren’t there.  

Maybe you never mattered in the first place. 

It’s been a year since, and things are looking up for you. An opportunity surfaced in a field you were interested in applying for, and you miraculously got the job. Moving over a city helped you adjust to your new life—that, and a bottle of dark burning liquor. No matter how much you mindlessly typed at your computer or partied with coworkers, you couldn’t stomach the pit gorging through you, a hole that surfaced everything you’d been burying. 

You’re not prepared to face the forlorn mock of your bleached walls today. As you pry your eyes open, the flickering shimmers through your sheer curtain cast across unattended sheets, soothed by stuffed animals strung along the comforter. You reach for something that isn’t there in your groggy state—a gentle reminder that your morning would be just as empty as yesterday. 

Today isn’t any other; it’s what would’ve been your five-year anniversary. One year, of new beginnings and new friends. A year of solitude.  

You don’t bother slinking out of bed. The accumulation of tasks awaiting you is more daunting than the actual execution. In an attempt to regain control of your life, you established a healthy routine. It entails waking up at early hours to exercise and work on projects and meal prep, and ending your night early with extra exercise and skincare. It was amazing at first and quelled your sadness. What they didn’t inform you of, was the spectacle; the appearance and perception of perfection, and not the struggles or gradual burnout of maintaining that lifestyle. When the distraction died down, and work and social activities became a congealed, monstrous chore, you quickly resented those limp salads and vomit-inducing runs. 

You expel a loaded sigh and pull the covers over. 

The vibration of the phone buzzing on your stomach peels your eyes awake. You allow it to pass, but it rings again. From a frustrated exhale, your languid hands muster the strength to flip to its notification; Shoko’s calling.  

“Hello?” you mutter, fatigue caught in your throat. 

“Fuck, you sound like hell!” she replies. The repetitive clack of office keyboards and analog phones being slammed by stressed out coworkers distorts the background. Thank God I used my paid time off. 

“I love you too, Shoko.” 

“Sorry, didn’t mean it like that…you ok?” It’s much sweeter. Shoko has always been a supportive friend, perhaps bordering on too supportive. You cherish her motherly concern, and rather vulgar honesty. 

“Mm, I’ll manage.” 

“I can come over after work.” You flip onto your back, soaking in the mild sunlight. 

“S’alright, I’m sure you’re busy, and I might sleep in. Wallow in sorrow for a few hours.” Shoko drawls a dramatic groan and creaks back in her chair. 

“Nothing good comes out of feeling sorry for yourself. Go to the club or somethin’.” 

“‘N how’s that gonna help?” 

“Better than whining at home. Wear something sexy, look pretty and get laid. That’s how I get over shit.” 

“Mm, right. I don’t know if that’s gonna work” you giggle, toying with one of the ears on your stuffed bunny. 

“Oh yeah, forgot you’re the born-again Virgin Mary now. You know… if you want to get over ‘him’, you have to take the first step.” You can envision her air quotations. She treats his name as forbidden speech, and regularly refers to it in conversation as “he who shall not be named.” 

“Ugh, mother Shoko’s speaking.” 

“Listen, it may or may not work. Don’t knock it ‘till you try it is all I’m saying.” 

“Yea? Well, if he has a tiny dick, I’m blaming you.” 

“Nothing wrong with shellfish.” 

The last curl falls in place, and you follow it up with copious amounts of hairspray. Fanning your bathroom after a drawn out coughing fit, you get a good look at your figure in the mirror. The backless lacy black dress you’re wearing hugs you in all the right places and guides the detail sitting tight under your butt. It’s undoubtedly revealing, coupled with strappy heels and a dark cat eye.  

You walk past your vanity and pause at the messy jewelry box, riddled with remnants of Toji’s adoration. Sparkling varieties of heavy necklaces and rings and precious diamonds; ninety percent of your jewels were because of him. You’d asked if he stole the items he gifted you, and he’d come up with an elaborate sarcastic story about a jewelry heist he carried out, and how appreciative you should be. Buried underneath rested your engagement ring, a sparkling cut that crowded your entire finger. You couldn’t bring yourself to pawn it, opting to occasionally revel in its beauty before shoving it in a far corner with your feelings. 

Shoko wasn’t lying about how sexy you’d feel dolled up, and it shows in your confidence as you modeled around your bedroom, striking poses to no one. Your plushies weren’t very appreciative of the full-blown fashion show, but you hadn’t felt like this for a long while. Maybe it was about time you entered the dating scene. 

The entrance to Infinity appears as a run-down tacky club from an outdated era, and it’s easy to miss the multicolored flashes dotting the black tinted glass on each side. A few steps past the black and white checkered vestibule, and you get to experience the scale of a roaring, clashing club. It’s not half as lively on the outside; sweat dripping under twinkling lights of multicolor, bodies colliding and moving to the melodic sway of erratic music vibrating through the floor, freely drowning and expelling their insecurities, deepest struggles. It’s both welcoming and hopeless.  

A woman balances her shot glass as she gyrates against a stranger while another stumbles off the dance floor in a drunken stupor. The heat and screams are overstimulating, circulating around you. You consider withdrawing, especially since you held some reservations about partying solo. However, this is what you need, to get comfortable with doing things by yourself. 

So you down shots, two, three, burning of different varieties that heighten your body temperature and nerve. You throw back a mix of dark and white liquor, a dangerous combo that dizzies your vision and runs up an unfathomable tab you can't afford. The strangers accompanying you at the counter encourage you. No rational thoughts, let alone decision making, register in your alcohol-sodden mind. Like strings being fielded by a puppeteer, your legs move on their own to the dance floor.  

It’s hot. The blurring iridescence bends to produce shapes that make your fuzzy brain giggle for some odd reason. You’re moving in slow motion, and the world’s continuing at max speed. You don’t care either way. You’re light on your feet, and the music goads you to dance. Spinning, hands tangled between your locks traveling down the curve of your thighs, hearing the lyrics inside and out as if no one is watching. 

You dance with women and men alike, anyone willing to help you overlook your heartache. It’s floaty, an airiness that spills sober thoughts from cotton mouth and makes every touch electrifying. It’s in your legs and arms, your restless feet and fingers. You laugh hysterically, incomprehensibly, and switch to sadness in a heartbeat. These aimless bodies, just as lost as you, drinking to your despair. Was it worth the abyss tomorrow held, or the agonizing headache as a result? 

After those dances, mainly flailing efforts at rhythm, your head is barreling. You’re suffering from a heavy case of vertigo at the slightest turn, and your stomach’s riddled with knots. It hits you like a car crash, and you strive to stabilize yourself as bile fills your throat, cringing when you reluctantly swallow. A disorienting slurry of words and faces ask you things you cannot hear or see, and it suddenly becomes too real. 

In few sparse moments, your life plays before you in stop motion. From heaving over the toilet while a lady with long nails held your hair back, to knocking the drink out of someone’s hand on your way out. Now you’re walking on one heel and holding the other. You might’ve popped a nail if not for security holding the door open. They attempt to flag you, but you reply with a curt slurred “‘M fine.”  

You push your knees together, sitting on the corner of a curb. This isn’t how you expected the night to end. It’s pitch black beside street lamps, and awfully quiet in contrast to inside. Shivers ripple through you despite the persistent warmth pooling in your ears. You lean on a street lamp in the calm cold as people leave, probably running to participate in intimate affairs with their acquaintances. The gentle hand on a waist or shoulder forms a subconscious smile; young, passionate love blooming on a random night. 

And you burst into tears.  

Ugly tears streaming down your face in blobs that don’t stop no matter how much you wipe them, followed by deep sniffles. They smear across your phone while you search for a taxi app, and your cloudy eyes deceive you. 

You jolt when a hand brushes against your arm and turn to meet the foggy face of a man with stubble. You wipe your wet cheeks and lean further from him.  

“Hey baby, you alright?” The pet-name makes you shudder. You definitely don’t know him, and at this point there’s no one outside. 

“Wh’re you?” you garble. 

“Kusakabe. Where ya off to?” 

“Waitin’ for uh frien’” Your eyelids waver, failing to stay alert under the frightening stare burning holes through your skull.  

“A friend, huh…you gotta man?” he asks, stepping closer to you. You back away to the side of the light. 

“Go away.” You’re definitive, but he laughs as if it were the ridiculous request of a child. 

“I like that dress. You look hot.” His hand drags along the strap of your dress, but you nudge his hand.  

“Mm’get off me. N’don’ need your help.” He scoffs with offense, and as you go to leave, he grabs your wrist firm. 

“Relax. Tryna go home with someone tonight?” You’re trembling, tugging with as much force as you can muster in your punch-drunk state, but he doesn’t budge. 

“L’ve me alone” 

“Don’t be like that, baby. I’ll call a cab-” 

Whack! Your wrist goes limp, and the crunch and crack of flesh hitting concrete echoes. You sluggishly pan to him, knocked out cold beyond the spotlight. The influence takes you, however, and you nearly find yourself joining him on the sidewalk. Before you can fall, a broad, rough hand supports your lower back. Their deep gritty tone is inches away from you. 

“C’mon, sweetheart.” 

You rise from an unusually sweet slumber. The light shines through your eyelids, unavoidable even when you maneuver the velvety warm blanket for shade. Your eyeballs shift across thin skin being prodded by intrusive sun, and as they crack open, you catch a glimpse of the glass coffee table in front of you, arranged with perfection resembling a furniture showroom. You smile to yourself half-asleep, wondering when you bought such an expensive item, and how an abundance of sunlight made its way through your average window. You’re drifting off anew. 

Then, you shoot up. 

You start to really take in the surroundings, and when you do, a pit drops in your stomach. An ultra-wide flat screen television faces you, decorated with plants on either side. Craning your neck, the long windows of this penthouse line the adjacent wall up to the ceiling, which hangs a glass geometric chandelier. This isn’t your bedroom, nor your apartment.  

 Instantly you switch to sitting, and recoil just as fast. Pain envelops the wrinkles of your brain, and you wince from abrupt tension. You palm the bridge of your nose. 

“Fuck” you whisper. Last night replays in your head through staccato bursts, though you couldn’t remember the minutes before you passed out. Embarrassment creeps onto your ears at the freak show you performed hours ago. You’d made a fool of yourself, puked and tripped like a sloppy drunk college girl. You can’t be more ashamed, and to top it off, you’re in the house of a stranger you possibly slept with. You look down from the smooth sectional sofa, and notice your heels arranged neatly beneath you with your phone and bag. At the very least, the man you engaged with seems to be accommodating.  

You scurry to put your heels on, and hopefully sneak out in silence before you face further humiliation. Something about this blanket smells familiar; musk and oakmoss and man, grazing across your nose like the aroma in an intimate embrace, the earthy dew of calm before a storm, a trace only you can understand. 

“Finally up?”  

It’s that gravelly smoky voice you lived in for five years, and some before that. The voice you fell asleep to, mumbling nonsense in your ear through boorish snores. The voice you fell in love with, easily saying “I do” when you wedded at the courthouse. The voice you resent, saying nothing at all when you cried. 

You look behind you, and there he is, walking down the staircase. He’s wearing boxers, settled under the tufts of hair running down his belly button. His rugged muscles peek out from the untied black robe dangling to his strong calves. His hair grew out a bit since you’ve last seen him, shaggy bedhead running across his eyes and covering his ears. 

He smirks the same, though, sweet and soft for such a dour man, like nothing ever happened, approaching you while you sneer at the cruel joke bestowed upon you. 

“Toji.” You haven’t said it in forever. It’s abashing how quickly your regularly tense shoulders relax in his proximity.  

“How ya feelin’? Hope the couch was comfortable enough, figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in my bed” he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he stretched his sturdy back.  

“It was fine.”  

There's an awkward quiet afterwards. The air’s thick, glass straining under pressure, threatening to give way at the smallest disturbance. 

Toji clears his throat. “So, um...you need somethin’? Water?” 

“No” you bark, folding your arms across your chest. You can’t look at him, not without feeling enraged. You’re the afterthought, the chaser, rushing after a man who wouldn’t dare look twice. “How’d you even know I was there?” 

“Coincidence” he replies, and you scoff. He couldn’t get away with lying to you; playing games with moves you’ve lost to countless times. 

“Like hell it was a coincidence. I’m in a completely different city now, what were you doing there?” You have to physically bite back the words begging to spill from your mouth as his head wanders in thought, possibly concocting another fabrication. 

“Had business” 

“Oh, I’m supposed to believe the man who hates keeping a job had ‘business’. Okay.” You don’t acknowledge the extravagance of the apartment he must be paying for monthly. That, or a chain of illegal activities—whatever assumption suited your irritation in the moment. 

“Well, ya wouldn’t believe me no matter what I said, anyway” he chides. You’re a shaken bottle ready to explode, and his nonchalant demeanor only eggs you on. Toji’s perpetually dismissive, looking down on you like a pitiful puppy. 

“Because you’re always full of shit” you snap. He exerts a loaded sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, as if he had any right to be tired of the situation. 

“’M not lyin’.” 

“Right.” You observe your surroundings more. It’s too opulent, pricey vases you wouldn’t expect from the ex-husband that once thought hanging jackets in the doorway was “decoration.” Definitely not fit for a single guy. You’re separated, and you know it's not your responsibility to keep tabs on his sex life, but that caviling thought won’t stop taunting you. How could he get over it so soon?  

“If you were just gonna bring me back to your fuck pad, I should’ve slept on the curb. Who knows how many girls you’ve had here.” 

He gets eye-level, sitting on the coffee table with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together like a drained salaryman, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“What’s wrong with me? You can’t be serious. Like you never do anything wrong, like everything that’s happened until now is somehow my fault and you did nothing, nothing, to contribute to the bullshit. Stop acting like a fucking victim.” 

“Little lady, you got shitfaced, and some guy was tryna take your drunk ass home. You’re lucky you went home with me instead.” 

“I could’ve handled it; I don’t need you for anything-” 

“You could barely keep your eyes op-” 

“I would’ve handled it! Just like I handle everything else. Alone. Every time. It gets done, I’m not incompetent, Toji!” 

You could hear a pin drop in the stillness. Those forested eyes are gazing into your soul. It’s said and done, and you’ve got it off your chest, yet it hurts like a freshly sliced gash. The arguing doesn’t change, married or not. It sucks when you shout, uncontrollable like a blazing fire, only to be snubbed out by his calm, condescending tone. 

“...I know.”  

You can’t take it, it’s stifling being near him. Wounds loosely covered by band aids seem to peel at his presence, and you’re stuck at his mercy again. You can’t give him the satisfaction of crying in addition to the drunk, poor decisions you made, hardening your expression as you fumble for your phone. 

“Take me home” you demand. Toji stands with an exaggerated stretch on both arms, painfully slow. Before you can hurl your phone at him from the dramatics, he looks down on you with that intoxicating gaze. 

“Are ya hungry?” 

You furrow your brows, and hastily put on the other shoe. Turning on your heels, you go to leave, and are immediately stopped by Toji's calloused hand holding your wrist. You don’t watch, but his palm is gentle. You could smoothly slip out and exit his apartment, forget this engagement and continue a peaceful, isolated life. You’d move on eventually—perhaps to bigger, happier jobs and romances. 

 Despite that hopeful outcome, you remain.  

“I don’t wanna eat. If you don’t take me home, I'll call a cab.” 

“I’ll take ya home, just...look, I know you’re hungry, and I’m down to eat at a diner down the block. Don’t worry about a thing, I’ll pay for it.” Toji isn’t known for being docile, but with his curved posture almost leaning into you and dejection in his eyes, you swear he’s searching for pity. 

“I said I’m not-,” The untimely arrival of your dinning, rumbling stomach cuts off any excuse. A corner of his mouth upturns, and your face contorts to scorned pride. 

“...Fine. Let’s make it quick.” 

“Great. Can’t have ya walkin’ around like that, though.” He pans to your chest. You haven’t thought to give your outfit a glance, but when you do, your eyes grow wide. The entirety of your conversation with Toji, your chest was spilling out the dress, and now part of your areolas is exposed. You cover up the top, but he stares with an x-ray's invasiveness. You reprimand him, swatting his chest; 

“Pervert!” 

There was an added benefit to being around Toji; the way people cleared a path for him and treated him with frightened kindness, afraid that pissing off the physically intimidating man would land them a one-way ticket to the nearest hospital.  

They weren’t exactly wrong, and you have a satisfied pep in your step as people scoot aside. He strides in front of you to get the door, and you mutter a small “thank you.”  

Sweet fluffy pancakes and charred grills mingle with faint notes of bleach. At least he knew better than to take you to a fancy establishment, especially since you were wearing a baggy t-shirt from him, and basketball shorts you had to tie around the waistband. His massive slides had you flopping across the dining aisle as you got to your booth. He’s not particularly dressed either, wearing matching shorts and a compression top. 

It’s hard not to perceive the way women ogle him, drooling at the way his biceps flex when he raises the menu, and his chiseled jaw tensing while he ponders the food options. It was a notable problem when you were married. They’d glare at you, shower him with compliments in front of you, and you’d shrink yourself. Occasionally the waiter would pretend you don’t exist as she swayed her hips at every little thing Toji said. If they want him, they can have him. It’s not your business, right? It’s no different with this waiter, twirling the curl of her hair as Toji reiterates his order, shifting from one leg to the other to highlight her curves.  

Not my business. You're nauseous.  

Not my business. Your fists clench underneath the table. 

Your head’s swimming in thoughts, uncertainty crashing down like a wave upon your increasingly loud intrusions. You drown within yourself, until you’re pulled out by a thumb travelling up your hand, and other fingers clasping around it. 

“Watcha wanna order, angel?” You regain composure, and when you blink, Toji is waiting for you. The waiter side-eyes you and the joining of your hands.  

“You lost? Take her order” he spat. 

The food's steaming hot and fresh, and you salivate at the plate in front of you. Toji snatches your bacon before you can, and you begrudgingly watch as he breaks the strips into two pieces, the way you like it. He winks, and you groan. You coat your strawberry pancakes with maple syrup, trespassing territory around the scrambled eggs and bacon, and he laughs across from you. 

“What’s funny?” 

“Never stopped drowning your breakfast in syrup” he ribs. You pout and swirl your bacon, “It makes it taste better.” 

Soon, food in your belly aided your dialogue, and the old banter returned; an easygoing flow, similar to a lifelong friend you hadn’t spoken to in decades. You giggle between bites and gossip about mutual rumors. 

"What you been doin’ since..." Toji trails off, falling short of “divorce”—a word he never wants to say. 

"Shoko recommended me to her boss, so I'm working uptown now. Pay's okay, nothing to write home about."  

"S'good. Livin comfortable?"  

"As comfortable as I can be"  

"Real humble. Guessin’ it's better than before" he jokes, though you sense a displace in his bearing at the nervous grin he flashes. You reach onto to his side and grab one of the grapes off his plate. You pop one in your mouth, "So, what drug ring got you that house?"  

"The cartel. Good vacation time, too" he jests. 

"Nice. at least it's not that shitty garbage gig you had for a while."  

"It did pay well."  

"Yeah? Couldn't get rid of the rotten milk and vomit smell for weeks after. Remember I made you shower at Geto’s apartment?" 

“Heh, yeah, he was fuckin’ pissed” he laughs, stealing a piece of sugary bacon from the syrup pool. "I'm a CEO, run a company downtown."  

"Ooo, look at you. Can't be little if it did this much for you" you say as you gesture at the empty dishes on the table. Restaurants were a luxury in your household. 

"I guess. I had a vision, and some people believed in me”, he pokes at the leftover blueberries, “I finally made it happen, that counts for something, right?"  

You pick another off his plate, smile stretching, "You're a natural born leader. People will follow you regardless, even if it's not the right choice."  

His eyebrows raised in surprise, "That's the first good thing you said about me today."  

"Don't get used to it." 

You wait for Toji to retrieve his car after walking back to his apartment. You’re awestruck in many ways; he paid for the whole meal with a black card and showed undying manners. He bowed to your requests. You’re smarter than this, though. This is his opportunity to get on your good side, and he’s showing the best version of himself. However, it fills your heart with want—like the initial dating phase, those butterfly stricken, heart-numbing, sappy gestures that made you melt.  

He wraps around the car to open your door, and you plant yourself in the sleek beige interior. Your eyes flick to the veins in his forearm straining as he steers, his deadpan focused expression and the composed R&B music low in the background. It starts to drizzle, and raindrops plink the car roof. 

You feel complete; And that alone is a dreadful reality. 

The scar on his lip twists to a smile, “Did’ya like the food?”  

You turn your nose up, “it was satisfactory.” He snickers, and navigates to the street your apartment is on. “Shit, I gotta give you your clothes back.” 

“Forget it, bring it when you get the chance.” Chance. He expected to see you again. You hang your head as he approaches the complex. You didn’t want today to end, but this is it. You’ll leave this car and go your separate ways. This is how it should be.  

You place an earnest hand on his shoulder and cast a smile. The corners quiver and your first syllable wobbles, but you finally speak, “I’m proud of you, Toji. I mean it. You’re going to do great things, and I’m always rooting for you.”  

He swallows stiff, and suddenly he’s sickly pale. Something within you is pleased at that reaction; if he wants redemption, he should beg and drop to his knees and crawl for forgiveness, he should lock himself up for your eyes only and cut off everyone else in his life. You’re walking away a second time, rightfully so, but you struggle to decipher what you want in this moment. He palms your hand, staring at you, “I’m all for praise, but tell me when we meet again” 

“Toji, there can’t be a next- “ 

“Give me your phone.” 

“Huh?” His urgency throws you off guard, “Don’t think, just give me your phone.” It’s impossible to kill the complicated slurry that is your mind, and a new bundle of thoughts emerges from his request, but for a heartbeat, you allow yourself to wander. Pitter patter and muted music, heated seats, the cologne radiating from Toji—all that exists. 

 You moved on instinct, and now your phone is in Toji’s hands. He's adding his contact information. He hands it back to you, fingers brushing against your soft skin.  

“I won’t text or call you. ’S there whenever you need me. Move at your own pace and call me when you’re ready.” With that, you exit his car. No hug or gratitude, skipping goodbyes as you rush out the car. It’s bittersweet when he pulls off, and you’re left with the ghost of him.  

The familiar click of your convoluted keys in the apartment door could bring you to tears. You’ve officially reverted to your mundane, boring lifestyle. The walls look duller today. 

You curiously click on his contact, and giggle at the name he assigned himself: 

dumbass ex 

tick, tock, tick, tock 

The blue light beaming through your office computer is an eyesore, but you have little say in the matter. There's an upcoming deadline for these reports, you can’t waste precious skill complaining about circumstances out of your control. It’s tiresome, and you rove to the cobweb missing a string in the corner of the room, or the single drop of water roaming outside those wide sterile windows. The balls of your feet carry your flats as you absentmindedly push a pen against your lip. 

Your concentration has been out of commission since meeting Toji. He kept his word and hadn’t called you whatsoever. A month passed, and still nothing. Be glad, you told yourself, get your goals back on track. Your exercises get vicious, from jogging to a full sprint, hoping that those buckets of sweat will shed off the extra weight of Toji’s abidance. The fruit bowl on your break offends you with mocking displays of strawberries and grapes. You’ve pondered deleting the contact entirely to repel enticement, but you can’t do it. It’s painfully clear that you miss him. 

He’s horrible, callous and selfish. Of course, Toji had a way of showing up at your lowest to fill your head with empty promises and gestures of affection, that charming grin shooting daggers at your weakness. In his gaze, you’re defenseless, and in his arms, you’re exposed.  

Albeit late, a pestering thought carves into you, unfortunate and disgraceful to the healing you strive to accomplish; message Toji. 

A set of wheels rolls above the carpet, and you see Shoko, lifeless arms hanging beyond the armrests. The bags under her eyes signify stress from finalizing late papers.  

“Unnghhhh, (Y/N), I can’t do it” she laments, drooping her head to the side. You pat the top of her hair, “I believe in you.” 

“What are you working on?” She quirks a brow, and you stare at the screen with her. You’ve typed an entire page of straight gibberish. “I’m getting distracted too...” 

“Let’s quit and tell her to shove it.” 

“You know I can’t do that” you fuss as you backspace the document. “Mm, me neither. What’s got you zoned out?” 

“Nothing in particular.” You’re afraid to tell Shoko of your rendezvous, she might become volcanic and fire magma at the sound of any “-oji”. 

“I know it’s not nothing. New boyfriend, hm?” 

“S-something like that” you chuckle. She shapes an ‘O’ with her mouth, and wheels closer. Her bangs touch your eyebrows, and she rests her chin on her hand. Her usual dead eyes have a malicious twinkle in them. 

“What’s he like? Is he tall or short?” she gasps, “did you meet him at the club? I told you it was a good idea; I really am the best advisor.” 

You sigh, “It’s no one new.” 

“Ooo, an old flame. Spicy. What’s his name?” You turn slowly, a nervous bite on your lips. She studies your face, and slowly hers drops. 

“Do not fucking say it.” 

“Shokoooo” you whine, searching for sympathy from her. Instead of that, your body is shaken violently as she whisper-yells, “Are you kidding? Get a grip! What’s gotten into you, you were fine!” 

“But I wasn’t. It sucks, I feel lonely all the time.” 

“You felt lonelier with him than without him!” 

“I know, but...” You ball your lips in with furrowed brows, and she holds her breath. 

“I wanna go see him” you squeak. Instantly, she squishes your cheeks with both hands to hold you in place. 

“Absolutely. Fucking. Not.” 

At home, you pace back and forth in front of the phone resting on your bed. Toji’s contact is open, and nausea is brewing in your stomach. You’re giddy and ill, working up the courage to press “call”. You really should be practicing Shoko’s advice, but you’ve long surpassed common sense. You leave and come back, spying on it from a distance. Eventually, you forgo the theatrics and grab the phone to hit the messenger app. 

Three dots vanish and resurface. You can’t get it right:

'Hey stranger I got custody of ur clothes rn' 

'Hey haha I missed u can I come over?' 

'Yo what’s up? Still have ur clothes do u want them?' 

'I’m coming to give u ur stinky clothes' 

This shouldn’t be complicated, and you don’t usually perform the process of elimination for simple responses, but it’s Toji. You’re scrambling and overanalyzing, reiterating your choice of slang only to delete it all over again. You settle for a simple message. “Hey Toji, I wanted to return your clothes. Let me know when you’re available. Thanks”  

Once you hit send, you run a marathon around your bedroom, tippy tapping to expel your anticipation. The churning grows as seconds pass, and so does your doubt. You tiptoe to the phone as if a displaced floorboard would activate the alarm. You’re about to tap the screen, and then your ringtone plays.   

Oh god. 

You take a deep breath and swipe right on the faceless profile picture labeled “dumbass ex”.  

“…Hello?” 

“Hey, angel.” You avoid a dull pound in your chest at the memorable pet name. “So, um-“  

“I wanna see you. I’m available now, and I’ll be home by the time you get here” he states, direct and confident. His conviction validates yours, you bend to his direction. 

“Okay then. I’ll start getting ready.” 

“I’ll send a cab to your address. See you soon.” When he hangs up, you dive into the pile of plushies. Squeezing them for emotional support, kicking your feet in the air as you scream into your ruffled pillows like a girl’s first crush. You have a long night ahead of you. 

You access Toji’s building. He must’ve notified them you were coming, as the doors were open upon arrival, and a bellhop was sent to guide you to his floor. You’re standing outside of it, clothes and a bottle of champagne in hand. Your stretchy maxi dress clings to your figure, complimenting the juicy shade of lip gloss you’re wearing—the shade he loved most on you during your marriage. You ring the bell, and it doesn’t take long before he opens the door. The scene you’re exposed to swells heat between your legs. 

Toji has nothing but a towel shimmied low on his hips, v-line adorned with veins and biceps corded with muscle. He’s trimmed his hair since your last encounter, and it’s dripping wet along with the rest of his soaked body. You’ve interrupted his shower apparently, but he didn’t hesitate to rush to the door, water cascading from the raven veil, sluicing down his sculpted chest. He had to have done this on purpose, but you weren’t complaining at this point; he looked damn good doing it. You can’t disengage from the beads branching amid his pecs and through his happy trail. God, you wish you were water personified right no- 

“You’re staring, dollface” he teases with a smirk. Your eyes snap to his, and you remember to breathe. You clumsily hold up the liquid peace offering, “Brought a little something.” 

“Thanks. Make yourself comfortable, I’m gonna get dressed.” You nod, and he marches upstairs. You don’t need comfortability; you need to be in and out of here before you do something you’ll regret.  

But...is that cedarwood and vanilla? The interior gives off romantic energy at night, attractive dim lighting throughout and dull flickering pops of his fireplace in the living room. You find the source of that heavenly scent sitting on his kitchen island, and awkwardly place the bottle down. You don’t know what to do with yourself, more so you don’t know what to say. It’s hard to recite a script when things aren’t going according to plan. Did you want to apologize, or force him to apologize? Maybe you should’ve cursed him out, rehashed his asshole behavior from the past until he drowned in guilt. You want to kiss and slap him, cry in his arms until your voice gives out and disappear all at once.  

There’s a beautiful clear vase in the center, crammed with your favorite flowers, and your fingers dance across the petals. “You like ‘em?” he asks stepping into the kitchen. His hair’s still saturated, but he’s sporting grey sweatpants and a black ribbed tank top. “They’re very pretty.” 

“They’re for you.” 

You switch between his playful expression and the burst of colors, “You don’t have to do that.” The bouquet evokes recollections of heated arguments—anytime he’d angered you to tears, and you slammed that bedroom door in his face, you always woke up to similar flowers on the floor. They were cheap, but it meant more than money; because despite the fights and disagreements, it let you know that he’d love you regardless. 

“I wanted to. As thanks for bringing my clothes.” He’s pacing towards you, and you’re bound to the floor like melting wax. His gaze is captivating, and you’re entranced by the verdurous ardor that won’t deter from you. 

“Thank you”, you say as he looms above you and inspects the scripture on the pale bottle. His large thumb blocks the intricate lettering he’s trying to read, “I should be thanking you. Didn’t think you’d ever message me.” 

You can feel the body heat radiating off him, the airy words as he mouths the contents. His eyebrows furrow to follow his focus, while you lose yours.   

“I-I should probably get going-” Without delay, Toji blocks your side with an iron grip on the island, trapping you in the confines of his broad wingspan. 

“Leaving so soon? You got plans tonight?” Saying and doing are completely different stories, and from the way your feet haven’t moved, you aren’t in a rush to go anywhere. 

“Not really, but I worked today and I’m kinda tired-”  

“Then what better way to unwind than with a bottle? I can’t drink this by myself, might as well keep me company” he suggests, persuasion to a greater extent when your lower back hits the bar. A drink or two couldn’t hurt, right? 

“I guess I can stay for a few minutes.” Toji flashes a victorious toothy grin and retrieves cups from the sink cupboard. He gives you a rounded glass, and his muscles flex below candlelight as he maneuvers the cork at an angle. 

“Let’s crack this open” he says, popping the cap off and pouring a substantial amount of golden fizz into both cups. 

Toji raises his glass, “A toast.” 

You tilt your head but raise yours as well. “To what?” 

“Us.”  

Us is a funny thing—with enough effort, it becomes you and I just as quickly as it formed. You don’t know if you’re willing to accept the responsibility of eternity. The devastation of commitment could damage you forever. There’s no us, but there’s you and him. So, you clink your glass, “To us,” and his eyes never leave yours as he takes a swig. It lasts a lifetime among longing breaths and unsaid words. 

He brings the champagne to the living room, “I’ll turn on a movie. You know that cheesy romcom shit you used to watch? They made a sequel.” You fall flat on containing your excitement. He grabs the remote and lays back with his thighs spread apart.  

Toji pats the couch, “Come sit. Don’t worry, I won��t bite.” You hardly believe that, but you remove your heels and relax upon overstuffed cushions. You opt to sit farther on the couch, and there’s an annoyed twitch on his lip at your display of boundaries. Nevertheless, he starts the movie. 

Toji’s not particularly sneaky. He announces multiple bathroom breaks, returning to a spot on the couch that’s inconspicuous, but inching closer to you. The intent becomes clear when the ghost of his shoulder knocks against you, spreading his thighs wider to brush against the softness huddled into your snug figure. You’re half paying attention to the cliché performance, and half observing Toji. It’s hard not to smile when he behaves like a disobedient dog obligated to sit.  

It’s cute that he arced himself to be eye-level with you. His tank rode up to expose his lower abdomen, and he adjusts himself in his sweats, jaw occasionally clenching. It could be the drink talking, perhaps you’ve had too many.  

The movie ends, and you exhale a sigh of relief. “I forgot how corny this shit is.” 

Toji shrugs, “I didn’t think it was too bad.” 

“No way, you actually liked it?” you gasp. He huffs out his nose, smiling, “People change.” 

“I’m shocked” you quip. Dusk creeps into a descending sunset, and you steal a glance at your phone screen. Bright as day, a notification from Shoko emerges. “NO TOJI >:(" 

You’re stumped thinking of a reply, one that doesn’t compromise your less-than-ideal situation, when Toji puts his hand over the screen. “Hope I’m not gettin’ ya in trouble.” 

“Like you care.” He chuckles and slides it to the far side of the couch. “You’re right. Let’s watch another.” 

This next movie's decent; a flat racing plot with excessive sequels. He unleashes an exaggerated yawn, extending his triceps to land behind your head. You quirk a brow at him, and he plays innocent. “You look cold” he says. You don’t care as much as you pretend. His pads trace the shell of your burning ear down to the lobe, to fine hair at the end of your neck. His rough hand massages the back of your head, and you lull to his chest. Be it the champagne or his actions, it’s too hot for comfort. Clamping your thighs shut spurs the intensity. His other hand languidly tests the limits of your skin, gossamer touches from your knee to your thigh. It's asking, and when you don’t object, he invites the entire palm to your knee, rubbing delicately. He brings it to your upper thigh, and retreats to the outside, getting dangerously close to your rear. The worst part is it’s not that bad. It’s intimate. Warm. 

Loving. 

It takes you a minute to comprehend you’re tearing up, but Toji recognizes that hushed sniffle. Airy and choked, quiet as to not be a burden. He circles a hand around your waist and pulls you impossibly close. He tilts your chin to his gaze, soft and deceptively gentle when he asks. 

“What’s wrong pretty, hm?” You say nothing through the constrains in your throat, streaking the tears that fall faster than you can wipe them. This man alone can reduce you to mush with a wave of his hand. He bares your rawest state and sculpts you back together with such purity, such devotion, that you’d plead for him to sink his clay sodden fingers into your nothing, and make you everything. 

“Tell me, and I’ll fix it.” 

You say just above a whisper, “You’re selfish, you know that?”  

“Mhm, I know” he nods, grazing his thumb across your lip. 

“This isn’t healthy for us; we can’t heal like this.” He angles your head with his half lidded gaze, polishing your damp undereyes.  

“I don’t need healing. I need you.” 

You find passage in his hair, and surrender to temptation. 

You test with a smooch. Then another. Then a series of tender, sugary kisses are pushed upon his pliant lips, and he responds in kind. You curl your fingers through his tresses as you explore the contours of his lips for what feels like the first time. Toji isn’t known for patience, but the sensation of his mildly dry lips getting smoother from your supple kisses gives him the will to savor this moment. You push and pull from each other, indulging in the messy smacks and caresses. You stop amid shared breaths to skim and nudge his yearning lips, diving into more hungry kisses. Toji abruptly lifts you over him, and you deepen its bruising passion.  

You lick his bottom lip, and he groans, parting his mouth to allow your entry. You traverse the pink mass, interlacing in a wet feverish exchange. Your mind is numb, and the heartbeat in your core strikes stronger when your tongues intertwine. Toji hikes your dress up and slinks his massive hands over the plush fat of your rear. He earns a muffled moan from you as he kneads and gropes, and you feel his smirk against your lips. He grips your ass and starts to grind your hips on the bulge in his pants, a silent beg for any amount of friction. You wind with his movements, consuming him, and you hear a whimper get lost in the back of his throat.  

You drag your teeth along his neck. You lick and suck in a few spots and decide to draw harshly on a responsive patch of skin while circling the fat of your pussy over his sensitive cock, taut in his boxers. His breath hitches, and he slaps your ass. “Fuck, baby please.” It’s rare to witness him begging like this, and you’re drinking it in. You lick up his Adam’s apple and pepper his jaw with kisses. “You like it?” 

“Need more.” You bite his bottom lip for what seems like an exchange, but break away once he leans in. “Mm, be patient Toji.”  

Your hands traverse the rugged muscle under his tank top. He aids in taking it off, and you rake over his breathless torso. You kiss along his pecs and lick the groove of his abs, delighting in the parts you missed during your separation. Toji has a tinge of red soaking his chest and ears, shifting uncomfortably from his throbbing cock when you bat your eyes as you slope to the floor. You slip a finger under his waistband, playfully running over its span, and snapping it from a peak. He hisses. You palm his erection, and he grinds into it.  

“Wait” he husks. He reaches for a pillow and shuffles it under your knees. “Oh, thank you” you say, but it doesn’t look like he hears you in the chaos of tugging his sweatpants down to expose his boxers. The anticipation’s killing you, so you free his dick from its confinement. 

You can’t forget the mouthwatering size. His girth meets his length with equal satisfaction. The base is tan, fading to a rosy tip and a faint curve. You committed his veins to memory, small ones embossing the sides and a prominent one meandering to his tip. 

You maintain eye contact with him, hand steady on the base as you deliver taunting little licks to his frenulum. You precisely ring around his urethra and trace the veins, pulsating from the flick of your wrist. Toji hisses shaky curses and bucks, beefy thighs stiffening when you roll a flat strip to his leaking head and pump the base of his cock. He didn’t want to push you, but his whole body twitched in desire. “Your mouth” he groans. You react a coy ‘huh?’, tapping the head on your tongue and slathering it in saliva with cutesy doe eyes. He’s homed in on the strings of saliva connecting him to your tongue. 

An undertone of desperation in his gravelly voice, “Whole thing. In your mouth,” he expends another shaky breath, “please.” 

He bites his lip and stifles a moan, watching you engulf the cockhead in your mouth. You hollow out your cheeks while the underside of your tongue holds firm, and cautiously accommodate his size. It’s too big for comfort and it stretches the capacity of your plump spit-covered lips, but you work through the daunting pressure poking your reflex. You gradually relax, periodically gagging from an unprepared increase, and he twitches at your tightening throat. Your nose finally touches the hilt, flooded in his musk, and you start to suck. You bob leisurely, adjusting to the sense, and he subtly squirms in your touch.  

Toji crinkles his brows when you release a pleasant pop on his tip, purely to observe his eyes rolling back when you wreck him in a noisy suction. Noise was no longer a factor—sounds of spit and dry retching overpowered the volume of the movie regardless. He holds your hair away from you to get a better view of your face, smothered with tears and mascara, drool ceaseless down your chin. “F-fuck, you’re so good, so, so good to me” he groans. 

Your tongue swirls around him as you’re bobbing, and you accompany it with a tender massage to his balls. You cup and fondle them, using the lubrication from your spit to glide your fingers across. He sighs and grabs a handful of your hair. “Need to come. Keep that pretty throat open for me, yeah?” 

He rapidly shoves you down to the hilt, and you wince before he continues at a relentless pace. You anchor his thigh for stability, and he throws his head back, fucking your throat raw. There's a sheen of sweat where his bangs stick to his forehead, and he emits an endless measure of moans the closer he gets. Rambling about nonsense, yes’s and curses as he stiffens. He treats your mouth like a flesh light, evident by the throat bulge disappearing and reappearing. You happily accept the searing jaw, swaying your ass from thrumming in your saturated panties damp to your inner thighs.  

You can tell he’s about to climax because he goes completely quiet minus the panting, open mouthed with his head back. You resume massaging his balls, and he shoves you to the base, “C-coming” he moans. You grab onto him, and a squeak dies in your throat when he paints it white. He shakes, groans for each spurt coating your mouth, pumping the last of his semen as you swallow. 

Toji shudders when he pulls out, and his panting returns to a soft huff. You expected him to be spent, or at least sit in the aftershocks for a while until he calmed down. But he tightens the grip on your hair and forces you to look up. “Show me” he husks. You stick your tongue out, proof you swallowed every bit. “Now c’mere”, he guides you into a filthy French kiss, devouring you with much more dominance than before. It’s as though your nearness restored him. You can hardly stand your feeble knees and sopping core, but Toji takes care of it for you. With unnatural vigor, he lifts you over his shoulder, and marches up the stairs. “Ah, Toji, maybe you should take a sec-” 

He swats your butt harsh, and you yelp from the sting. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do. You’ve been so mouthy, a damn tease, too. You’re gonna regret it.” 

You’re ferried into the rather plain bedroom lined with dim hues, and a wide ceiling length mirror opposite the bed. He tosses you on the dark gray bedding and climbs over you. Your heart’s racing with thrill. Toji yanks the dress over your head, uncovering the sheer white lacey bra, similar to your underwear.  

He stares like you’re a piece of meat, feasting on your flawlessness not yet smothered in hickeys and bruises, your nipples at attention under the fabric. “It’s all for me, huh?” he whispers, lust rolling off his tongue. You nod, because it’s always been for him, whether he was here or not. He buries himself in your cleavage and hums in satisfaction. His touch sends goosebumps to your skin and keeps your back arched when he drags a pad along your spine. Then your bra unclasps, and he removes it carefully, as if he didn’t want to spoil the surprise by unwrapping his gift too early. He gawks at them for an embarrassingly long pause, enough to make your cheeks hot, and you chide, “Stop staring.” 

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous.” Toji submerges the bud, whirling around it while he roughly squeezes both breasts. He molds the dough of your breasts with strong palms, nips and tugs your nipple before soothing it with fierce tongue kisses. Consistent teeth grazing hikes your sensitivity before he trades it for sucking. When he switches to the other, he pinches the maltreated peak, eliciting a whimper. You merely bind your thighs and embrace the disarray being caused on your spit-soaked nipples. The cold air your abused tits receive as he withdrawals from suckling is nullified by the hickeys he leaves. You quiver from constellations of splotchy purplish red, delicious pain tingling throughout your torso. “Not so much, I have to go back to work soon” you moan, not very convincing.  

“Even better; everyone’ll know who fucks you��� Toji winks, and your heart skips. He dumps a nice vibrant bruise on your sternum, and advances to the dainty hem. He parts your thighs with ease, throwing them on his shoulder. Then he develops a haughty smirk.  

You’re monitoring his face, until he presses a pad against your aching clit, and the subsequent juices overflowing from a huge wet patch. He plays with the spiderweb of slick between his digits, “Mm. Y’still my girl.” You blush as he sucks on them and licks his lips afterwards. Hooking under the panties, he pulls them taut, projecting the swell of your pudgy vulva in tightening lace. It sinks past your outer lips and cages your clit—you want to writhe from friction, but it makes it worse. He ghosts against you and kisses the print, and you want to scream. “Tell me what you want, or I won’t do it.” 

“P-please...” you whine. You lock eyes, and you can hardly manage a word in the foreground of his intensity. How can he expect you to form coherent sentences when he sees through you like this? He gives a disappointed tut and puppeteers the strings, shifting them back and forth upon your neglected vulva. You cry out, and he cinches it together, isolating the part that pulses incessantly. He has an evil grin on his face, the bastard. “Details, baby.” 

“Toji...please t-touch me alre-eady so I can come, m’sorry I won’t tease you again!” you promise, willing to do whatever it takes to reduce your sentence. 

“And what else?” 

“Your mouth on m-my pussy...please lick it.” You’re humiliated at the request that tumbles from your bottommost desires, but he’s satisfied. He’s never been one to shy away from dirty talk. 

“Good girl.” Toji slithers your panties off, and you sigh from a loss of pressure just as his bangs tickle your pubic area. He interlocks your hands, a breath from eating you. 

“You don’t look at me, I’ll stop. Think you can do that f’me?”  

“Mhm!”  

He hums in agreement and submerses into you. Toji’s a messy eater, especially when he’s desperate. He ovals the outer lips and precisely stirs your clit, and your stomach turns in knots from simple motions. He frames it and carefully winds around his capable tongue, really focusing on the spots that make your back curve; really focusing on your entry, as he teasingly digs in.  

Toji cajoles a groan from his nose caressing your bud, then laps a level tongue over your wetness, truly tasting you. It isn’t long before his teasing farce began to crumble, and he obliged his ravenous appetite. He eats you starving, insatiable as he absorbs your twitching cunt and perfumed essence spilling down his chin. You clasp your hands, desire building in a trembling quake, but he doesn’t falter. He slurps your inner lips, and finally delivers proper care to your neglected clit. He hums a low vibration when he sucks, his pursed lips moving from a steady tongue to full on slobbering like some savage animal.  

You appreciate the support his steady hands give your shaky ones. “Toji, hahhh coming” you whine, a familiar sensation flipping in your core. He lets his words fan onto you, “You know better” he husks. Your hips are bucking frantically, and so you whine, “Please, can I come sir, please please please please!”  

“Hmm, I don’t know, you were ready to disobey me just now.” He says that, however the look in his eye is unrelated; it craves you, the want to make you squeal repeatedly until you’re on the verge of collapse. “’M can’t take it anymore, please let me come!” You urge your hips to his mouth, and meld into his warmth. 

“Come on my face, pretty girl” he groans, just as hankering as you. He laps at your clit, and you sooner fall apart underneath him. Your whimpered plea forms an innocent sob as you spasm from overstimulation. Toji just doesn’t stop. His head careens against you, tasting everything your body has to offer. You’re suddenly regretting how badly you wanted to come. 

“Toji- I-it’s too much” you protest, but it receives no response. Your release dribbles down his chin and he persists, ultimately unbinding when you lose a hold on his hands from the tremors. He diverges your lips and admires the way your mess clenches around air. 

“Heh, you’re shaking. Cute.” He rubs the back of your legs, reassuring you in spite of his previous cruelty. You make a sad attempt at wiggling away, but he grabs you firm. 

No running. Be good and hold your legs back.” He folds your legs to your shoulders, and you mewl, reluctantly wrapping your hands around them. ‘No’ isn’t a valid response at present.  

Toji’s thumbs spread your wrinkling opening, and you feel a draft on its expanse before he spits directly into your hole. You jerk, startled, and he shushes you. He slathers his thick digits in your glistening strip, and smoothly sinks one inside. “Pussy so slippery for me. Miss this...miss you” he sighs, starting to pump. He prepares you for the main course, scrapes your walls and curls his finger to hit a spot you can’t reach. The nasty squelching sounds you echo from a mere finger casts heat on your cheeks, and he seems to enjoy your responsiveness as he adds another finger to the commotion. He twines a ‘come hither’ motion that makes your back arch from every delightful swipe against your velvety walls. Then his pink muscle undulates along your swollen bud, and you dissolve to a puddle. Your hips stutter, and surge after surge of torturous pleasure strikes you with no end in sight. 

“Toji, f-fuck wait- hng s’feels too good” you whimper, and he gruffs a chuckle. He expands his fingers with precision, then chooses to slide a thumb in your butthole. The combination of both hands intruding your being, coiling into your soul jams your head with intoxicating dizziness and fictitious futures. Static pools in your stomach and circulates like the goading flickers of a raging inferno. He contacts your g-spot, and you moan, “Ah- can I, I’m close” 

“I know, I know. Let go for me,” he says, or at least that’s what it sounds like when he’s face-deep. Your eyes are screwed shut, white noise before you crash and shatter around his fingers. Fortunately, you’re deaf to your own lewd wailing, clutching for dear life through contractions. It gushes past his wrist. Tears reside in your lashes, croaked sob from the slap he gives your puffy pussy. “That’s it, baby, there we go.” 

Toji shows mercy and slips out. You’re still registering sultry bliss, untangling your limbs to lay slack. Empathy isn’t forever, though, because he forces your butt rearwards as he hops off the bed. Precum seeps from his tip, sheeting his shaft and heavy brimming sack. He propels your thighs to your chest, and your expression switches to fear for a second at the angry red tip sitting at your entrance. It's as if it grew since the blowjob, and you’re sure you’ll die if he stuffs that monster inside you.  

He slides up and down the entrance, seizing the sore bud, “Mmm, pretty thing making a mess all over my cock.”  

“Just go slow, okay?” you meek. 

“Of course, ‘m not tryna kill you.” Toji doesn’t disrupt the yearning gaze between you, giving your entry several threatening caresses. He groans from the sensation of your puffy lips snuggling his length. Then he plunges the bulbous tip, encased in your passion. He’s unhurried for the most part, besides the instants he stops himself from ramming into you, cock begging to feel the fervor. He’s plugging you to capacity, and you’re only halfway in. Soreness whirrs in your walls being outstretched beyond belief, yet you’re milking what remains, dragging the rest of him in. His breath hitches, a spiderweb of veins pulses in your tight embrace and he rocks his hips further. “Look at the way you’re gripping me. Fuck” he shudders. His tip presses on your cervix, and you feel the weight of his balls on your rear. 

Toji drives into you nice and slow. In this position you feel each vast stroke massaging your tumid core, squelching amidst your languid bodies. There’s almost a gloss film on his eyes as he indulges in the sweet addiction swamping his thoughts with unfiltered lust. “When you left it hurt real bad, y’know? I even cried.” You’re a bit stunned at his spur of honesty, but it’s short-lived as his thrusts get wilder and brutal. Your mouth hangs open, drool shameless out your mouth as he kisses your cervix without trying. You throb frenetically, chest heaving from the way his sack smacks against your ass and the creamy translucent ring forming at the base of his cock. His swinging strokes graze your g-spot and you sob, but he doesn’t check for your mitigation, encompassing your numb clit in the heat of his mean smacks.  

“Heh, dunno if you remember, but you left a pair of panties when you moved”, Toji regresses to the tip and bottoms out repeatedly, “I’ve jerked off in them so many times, imagining you backing up this juicy pussy on my dick.” You’re hysterical, flushed from head to toe and struggling to take breaths. Toji has you locked slamming into your cervix. It coaxes a mix of pleasure and pain burning through you, and your toes curl. “You love me?” he asks. It’s unfair to ask you now, scatter-brained and drooling like a stupefied slut. But you nod, and he plasters a cocky grin. “Good. ‘S long as I have that, I’m okay.”  

The unexpected flood of your orgasm quakes you, unable to warn Toji, or even ask for permission. How disappointed he’d be in you, as your juices sluice and soak, fluttering where you come undone. It’s a trail of fire, and it hurts to come. His hips sputter and he mutters a string of curses, flicking your nub faster to heighten the intensity of the earlier mess. You paw at his chest, back arched and fresh tears clustering in the haze. “Please, please!” you babble to an unresponsive Toji, stuck in a feral trance.  

Toji pulls out, palpitating at the precipice of his own climax. You take this opportunity to flip on your stomach and creep to a farther part of the bed. He’s in no rush. You can’t go far like that, a net of arousal at the apex of your thighs. He climbs onto the bed and grapples your hips, thighs capturing yours. He curves your back and slips into your gummy walls anew. You grip him like a vice notwithstanding the complaints. You hate to say it, but Toji’s length bullying its way to your cervix is a poison you’d drink habitually. He snares your hair and holds the underside of your chin. “Hah- c’mon baby, you can take a little more”, he groans at a savage pace, “be a good girl.” Your ass ripples against the brawny man, hoarse voice in your ear, scrotum pummeling the overworked bundle of nerves. Your knuckles turn white on the sheets. All you should do is let him use you, that’s all you need to do, right?   

Toji pans your head to the mirror, “Look how good you’re taking me, angel. You’re doing well.” His honeyed praises make you throb, attended by the bestial snap of his hips. “See that?”, he references your release slugging both legs, air heavy with sweat, “you’re such a f-fucking slut, what man could satisfy you besides me?” You sniffle and muster a pathetic babble, and he laughs. “You’re my perfect slut, though, fuck- ‘nd I’m not gonna make the same mistakes again.” There’s a tinge of regret swimming in the sea that is Toji’s confidence, and you feel it. It’s a subtle confession; please don’t go. 

Then he stops. Toji lets go, and you’re impulsively manhandled in front of him while he’s behind you. He lays back, and in doing so, ferries your knees to the sides of your face and hooks his hands to the rear of your head. You’re unveiled in the reflection of the mirror, a panel that bounces back the thin sheen of sweat on your bodies, your disheveled hair and makeup, wrinkled sheets, and the sticky lacings attaching you to Toji. You want to shy from the humiliating sight. “Don’t hide your face” he coos. You glimpse a portion of his face in the mirror, a glint in his eye, “I like this view more.”  

He bends his knees and pounds your chubby cunt with reckless abandon. He’s fucking your cervix, heedless grunts and panting groans as you swallow him up. Toji sputters, throbbing along your abused body and reverberating vicious staggering plap’s that could be heard on the lowest floor. You can’t breathe, let alone think, and the asphyxiation goes straight to your pussy. “O-oh fuck, heh, feel s’good. Gonna fill you up, yeah? Shit- have a mini me crawling around. Y-you'd like that, wouldn’t you, doll? Wanna carry my baby?” The headboard thuds against the wall, and in your fog, you call out for him, chanting his name like a mantra. The emotion is overwhelming, you claw at his bicep as shockwaves burst and fizzle out on your skin. “You’re dripping down my balls, sweetie, you close again?” Tougher, nastier strikes allure your orgasm, and you bleat a scream as a stream of liquid surges from you that drenches the sheets and Toji’s shaft. It’s a blinding white light, and you go limp through the violent spasms.  

“Ohhh shit, that’s it baby, take everything I give you” he rasps. Toji shoulders your dead weight with ease, going silent, then plummeting you to the hilt. His balls tighten, and he manages some slushy pumps before he comes. He spurts thick, hot globs that paint and crowd your walls with greed. You milk him dry as he bucks. It overflows to trickling down his length, and his muscles quiver as he comes down from his high. His staggering pants reduce to hitching, and he relaxes your exhausted limbs. 

Toji drives out and turns you around. You’re edging unconsciousness, sporadic jolts and innocent sobs carrying in your scratched throat. “I know. Breathe, baby.” He brings you flush with his chest, and you absorb his gentle puffs, the methodical beat of his heart. “You okay?” You’re unresponsive, gathering yourself in an incomplete collage of thoughts. You want to talk but it dissipates on your tongue. He rubs your back and kisses your forehead.  

Then it’s muted; solely the dwindling rate at which your heart races, and the tender smooches Toji dots on your face as you cuddle. When you open your eyes, the sheets are changed, and you’re cleaned. Clearly some time has passed. You sit, and Toji comes out the bathroom, running water in the background. “How ya feelin’?” 

You wince at the blunt thrum in your vulva, “Okay. How long was I out?” 

“Like half an hour. Up for a bath?” You don’t have the energy to move your body. Toji scoops you bridal style and leads you to the bathroom. You found it amusing how considerate he was after wrecking your brain. 

Toji spoons a generous quantity of Epson salt into the corner jet tub. He helps you in and joins once you’re stable. It’s a lavish proportion, but you decide to be next to him. Your head situates on your forearms over the tub rim while Toji sloshes water onto your back. The steam and serene jets below ship you to a luxury vacation on a tropical island, its quality comparable to spas with extensive dollar signs. You study each other. 

“I’ll let you get whatever you need from your place.” You knit your brows, “For what?” 

“You live with me.” You simper at his audacity.  

“So, you’re the decision maker now?” 

“For this, yes. Can’t risk you runnin’ off again.” 

“It’s your fault I left.” He pauses, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

A piece of you becomes whole at his acknowledgement. There are no petty jabs to be had where lingering truths wade in the mist. “Never thought I’d hear an apology from you.”  

“It’s overdue. I was a dick, and I should’ve never treated you like that. Was tryna sort out my shit, but I didn’t have to take it out on ya.” 

The corner of your mouth quirks up. “Sorry...but not sorry enough to let me go?” 

 “No. You need nobody but me.” 

You chortle, and he cracks a smirk. “Arrogant asshole.”   

“I love you, too.” 

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro #toji smut #toji x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji fushigro x reader #jjk

[crushedsweets]

i am so so sorry for the sheer amount of headcanons i'm making you crank out, HOWEVER... i am so curious as to if you have any headcanons for nina and natalie as a duo. i love the way you perceive them and write them it genuinely makes me so happy

i had to doodle them . ok. lets go..

nat was one of the first people nina met from jeff, since she and jeff lived in the barn together.

nina thought nat was a lesbian when they first met . that is literally the only reason why she wasnt mad jeff was living with a woman.

although nina was like, one of the ONLY people to notice toby/nat tension and was sooo heartbroken when she realized they were never getting together..... but then was relieved they didnt get together when she got over jeff because 'well i can't be the only single one!'

again, natalie grew up with 0 girl friends, only hung out with her brother and boys. even after meeting the creeps, theyre still mostly guys. so she's just kinda really awkward and weird around girls. not in a like, 'oh girls r so annoying' way but like... she just doesnt know how to fit in. she just feels so different in the worst possible way and always has.

and nina is very girly, outgoing, touchy, friendly, cute, etc. so it was very like UMMM?!? idk. natalie kept snapping at her, assuming she was fake and weird and just trying to get something from nat, but nina was so persistent and just. friendly. it started making natalie feel warm.

nina's presence started to heal natalies inner little girl. she had it stolen from her time and time again, from her dad, her brother, her peers - the operator, too.

so the two are eventually actual friends. they'll text and play mobile phone games together. sometimes they'll just sit on call and nina will be talking her head off while nat does her own thing at home. one time nat was at tobys cabin and nina was talking about toby on speaker and toby walked in and was like 'hey nina' .... nina almost threw up she was so embarrassed.

nina loves visiting nats bar because everyone is always talking to nina and giving her attention and buying her drinks, and at first nat was irritated but it kinda got nat some better tips since the customers started realizing ninas her friend. so nat was pleased. LOL

nat was never the type to go shopping, but she'll follow nina around and sit while nina tries on clothes and carry around all her bags that she buys LOL... ninas made jokes about nat being boyfriend material and nat just flatout says smth about how nina should get over jeff cuz he would never.

nat is friends with jeff but she's oddly comfortable just telling nina that he's a piece of shit. and ninas always like NOOO U DONT GET IT U DONT SEE WHAT I DO and nats always just .. not... impressed..

nina's always inviting nat out to try new foods. nat grew up just eating bread and noodles with butter half the time so it's fun. nina always tries to pay bc 'well i invited you!!!'. sometimes toby tags along but he feels a way abt going in public places..

nina rarely visits jack cuz she has no reason to, but nat is friends with him so sometimes nina pops in and she's always like ^_^ HELLO TALL MYSTERIOUS SLIGHTLY MONSTEROUS MAN... <3... nat smacks the back of her head cuz she's being dumb and drooling over a bunch of rando freaks. ... . ok i love nina and she owes jeff nothing but she is def not loyal LOLLLL AND SHE HAS THE RIGHT TO FAWN OVER EVERYONE she's a fangirl at heart.

they watch a ton of shows together. nina got nat into horror kdrama stuff, but they have to watch in dub cuz nat cant read the subtitles fast enough . . . at first nina cringed but now she doesnt care.

nat's painted/drawn nina several times, and nina almost cries everytime. she's put the drawings up on her wall before but anytime nat's at her apartment, she takes it down bc 'i dont want my art on ur wall stop it' LOL... kinda rude but whatevs.

ugh theyre just so fucking cute guys im sorry i love them . holds them. brushes their hair.

#asks #creeped #natalie ouellette #clockwork creepypasta #creepypasta clockwork #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #nina the killer #nina hopkins #nina the killer headcanons #clockwork headcanons #sweetart #creepypasta art #creepypasta fanart

[tellodona]

hello hiii dcd anon (i’ll just use 🤡 anon from now on its easier) here, i hope i’m not making too many requests i’m very sorry if i am

a thought i’ve had for like a while is how demon skin works like, i feel like it’s less stretchy and soft to the touch than human skin because demons are simply just tougher, and also it heals faster. so what i am trying to get at is that demons probably don’t have like stretch marks? it rarely gets to a point their skin would do such a thing and even if it does it heals very fast so it’s not ever acknowledged.

so what about mc with like an abundance of stretch marks? like i can somewhat confidently say at least 15% of my body is just purple lines everywhere so i wonder how would the brothers react to that? once again sorry if i’m doing too many requests

it's alright ! all your requests are so fun to do so don't feel bad about them ! they're topics that i really like learning about

the brothers with an mc who has stretch marks

heads up: gn!mc, hc that demons and angels alike get stretch marks when overworking

lucifer

is probably curious about it

"so you're telling me humans don't smoothen out their skin easily? i see, i see"

probably doesn't even care, if you're still alive even with that abundant of stretch marks, there shouldn't be any problems

he might think it's a condition you're not telling him though

he'll try to rub pride on you if you're insecure about them

you're great just the way you are, mc. your appearance isn't going to change the person you are today

mammon

"what the hell happened to ya?????"

pretends he isn't worried, but he totally is

he'd ask a lot about how you got them because as far as he knew, demons get them when doing lotsa strenuous work

so at first he'd say you're stupid and to stop overworking

when you probably tell him it's not because of that he blanks

he'll understood soon enough

but he'll bark at people who'd look at you weirdly

leviathan

he raises an eyebrow at you

dang, what happened?

wouldn't speak it out though, afraid you're insecure and you'd dislike him

if you're self-conscious about it and see someone with "better" skin than you, he'd feel envy off of you right off the bat

he'd try to comfort you as much as he can

he likes sewing, so if you're insecure, he'd sew some clothes for you to make you feel better and look "prettier"

you're already pretty/handsome/great/awesome/good in his eyes, mc

satan

"i've read humans don't heal easily like demons, but i didn't expect this..."

he didn't mean it in a bad way, though. he'd have to assure you, he's just curious

he thinks it makes you prettier, because it's unique on you

encourages you to accept yourself, because these don't make you less beautiful

he turns demons who make fun of you into shreds behind your back

asmodeus

oh, sweetheart! those marks look so beautiful!

this man sees art in everything, so it's like seeing some intricate designs on your body, and he absolutely loves it

he offers you some soothing lotions though, because he knows they're not normal

if you're insecure about it, he'll absolutely fight you because honey, you're so beautiful!

you shouldn't think that way, it makes him sad

spa days bi-weekly to help soothe your marks

he destroys every demon's social lives when they make fun of you even just once

beelzebub

oh, you have marks, mc?

he sometimes gets them when he exercises a lot, so it's nothing new to him

but why aren't they going away for you

oh right, you're human

you look nothing different to him, anyway, it doesn't matter to him

he'd eat the people who'd look at you wrong

belphegor

this is why you should always nap with him, mc, now look, you've got marks-

oh, they've always been there on you?

he'd grimace since he sees stretch marks as a sign of lack of sloth, but he wouldn't judge you

would always use it as an excuse to cuddle with you though

demons looking at you wrong? eternal sleep, it is

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I WAS SO BUSY :SOB: IM SORRY THEYRE SHORTER TOO RGAHH

#love them #remember to love yourselves you guys #obey me #omswd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #anon ask

[cupoftaae]

Could you do one where y/n is walking to home alone at night and is scared of someone and calls tae or somethingg ? :)) I love the Forever and a Day series!

Hello angel! sorry for the delay in post, been busy offline but im gonna get through my requests now, thank you for reading and loving the series! <3

No warnings, enjoy!!

"why are we getting dessert at 1am?"....."why not?" KTH DRABBLE

"Hi sweetheart, are you just getting out?" Taehyung sat up in bed, phone up to his ear as he picked up your call.

"Hi baby, yeah.." you exhale, walking out of your building and walking to go catch the train home to your apartment.

The past few weeks youve been working as an assistant dance instructor at a fine arts school. You loved teaching and dancing everyday, but some nights were long, and you couldnt let the students leave unless their choreography was perfect.

"How was work then?" he asked, feeling more awake

"well...we finished the main choreo which is actually really good considering we just started teaching it last saturday. I think they are catching onto it now....but we still had to stay late and do costumes and what not..."

"busy, busy girl" he chuckled softly, fidgeting with his shirt as he heard the tiredness in your voice.

"yeah you got that right" you sigh and walk over to cross the street, eyeing the boarding platform for the train. "I'll be home soon, okay?"

"ok my love..."

"do you want me to pick up anything? Im at the train but I can stop quickly at the 24 hour market and bu-"

"hello!"

You stopped talking to your boyfriend as you heard a voice appear behind you. You turned to meet eyes with a much taller man wearing a grey hoodie and baggy navy blue sweatpants. He could have been anywhere between 30-40 years old.

"Uhm-..hi?" you smiled quickly, confused. You hadnt seen anyone around when you first arrived.

"whos there with you?" taehyung listens in to the unfamiliar voice

"hang on, tae" you mumble, putting the phone down as the man steps a bit closer.

"you look very pretty!" the older man spoke calmly, making you cringe. He smelled of cigarettes and booze.

"oh...thanks, im not interested in anything...im sorry. Just waiting to catch the train" you nod and point at the empty tracks in front of you, putting the phone back up to your ear as you turn

"baby whos that?" taehyung frowned, turning down the tv so he could listen more closely.

"I dont know...im at the train and some guy is just trying to talk to me" you whisper through gritted teeth.

"what??" he panics

"how old are you?" the guy asks, now closer to you than before.

"sir...im a little uncomfy with you being so close, I am just trying to get home to my boyfriend, its very late." you try to speak without your voice shaking.

"ah come on...dont be like that, im sure he wont mind if your home a little later. why dont we go have a little fun?" he mumbled

you felt your heart sink to your stomach as you immediately backed up. you wish you hadn't left your stupid pepper spray at home.

"Y/N?" tae called out, but your phone was by your side as you looked back at him. "please.....just go away" you try again

He simply laughed and continued to step closer before a cop that mustve been nearby came up behind him, grabbing his attention.

"hello sir, mind if I ask why you are out here this late?"

He scoffed, shrugging dramatically.

The cop continued to press questions as you quickly made a gesture of appreciation and fled without him noticing you.

You ran off the platform and back into the parking lot of some random store, picking up the phone to see tae was still on the line.

"taehyung??"

"Y/N, what happened? whats going on??" his voice was fast, concerned.

"I- I dont know, i ran away but some guy was near me asking me questions and I just- the cop came by but im afraid to go to the train again...im just-"

"where are you right now?" he stopped you

you turn around to see the 7/11 type market before you, "Im by the convenient store on 11th street..."

"okay stay there, go inside if you can...im coming to get you okay?"

"okay..." you breathe out and sit on the curb right next to the front door, still shaking a bit as your eyes nervously peered around the street, cars passing every now and then.

Taehyung grabbed his keys and was gone within the next 5 minutes, his own nervousness getting to him. He drove to you, keeping you on the line to speak.

"what did he look like?"

"tae i dont know, he was just older...creepy. smelled awful."

"im so sorry that this happened, are you okay?"

"im fine...im just scared now" you laugh breathily.

"im almost there, ok?"

"mhm"

your feet swung against the concrete parking lot before you saw the familiar headlights of your boyfriend pulling in. you waved to grab his attention, him parking the car close to you.

He got out and hugged you, swaying lightly. "its okay"

you give him a squeeze, "im sorry you had to come all the way over here so late.."

"shh dont apologize, you should always keep this with you though" he grabbed the pepper spray you left at home, shoving it into your backpack as you laughed.

"but its pinkkkk" you whined

"so?"

"what guy is gonna be afraid of some pink pepper spray?"

"hey, pepper spray is pepper spray, you just have the bedazzled version. You spray and slay" he shrugged, making you cringe audibly.

"never fucking say that again" you laugh, pointing in his face as he holds your hand in his, beginning his walk to the markets front door.

"why are we going in here?" you ask

"mine as well" he smiled and opened the door, walking in and eyeing the people- free isles.

You followed him as he darted to the back of the building, lifting up the glass case and picking up 2 vanilla ice creams, then going to grab 2 iced coffees.

"whats all this?"

"dessert" he looked back and winked jokingly as he made his way to ring up the items.

You scoffed and stood behind him as he paid, "And why are we getting dessert at 1am?"

"why not" he chuckled and handed you the ice cream and coffee

"valid point" you giggle, "thank you"

He kissed your forehead and led you back out to the car, getting in and enjoying your late night snack.

"so you said the cop stopped him?"

you nodded, licking your cone and looking out the window. "He reeked of alcohol so I doubt it was because he was stalking some young girl....wonder if he was even arrested" you scoff

He hummed, pondering in thought.

The car went quiet for a moment

"do you think hes in the back seat?" tae suddenly spoke, side eyeing you.

"Tae!!!" you shout, playfully smacking his arm as he defensively raised his hands

"sorry, sorry!"

"one more word and im pepper spraying you"

#taehyung #kim taehyung bts #kim taehyung series #kim taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung #taehyung drabble #taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic #tae #tae fic #tae drabble #tae x reader #tae fluff #tae smut #bts fanfic #bts taehyung #taehyung bts #bts

[e-munson666]

Let me Brand You

+++Eddie Munson x F!Reader+++

WARNING: 18+ ⚠️

XxReally FLUFFY Smut with plot. Not giving away all the juicy sexual details beforehand (not sorry?) Language, drug use, name calling, branding, consent is givenxX

(Slight continuation from my blurb (("Secretly Braiding Eddies Hair")) and him pining for you since. He catches you alone and things get.......steamy)

[a/n: never written anything like this before so I really hope you guys like it. Its definitely a softer take on smut, not super detailed but I am still happy with it for it being my first one lol.]

🖤xoxo

Eddie couldn't stop thinking about you since lunch. The sweet wide smile on your face as he found the beaded braid you had put into his hair, (he presumes in first period while he was asleep) he'd liked you long before today, but became smitten when he saw you giggling at him, fingers twiddling your own identical braid. Now he just needed to find an opportunity to talk to you. He almost gave up hope for the day until he walked into the woods behind the school and saw you sitting, alone, at his usual bench.

~

You were sitting quietly, drawing the landscape when you heard twigs breaking and you whip around quickly. Eddie Munson was slowly walking closer to where you sat. "Whoa hey, I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to scare you" he says low and calm, hands in the air like he was surrendering.

"What are you doing out here Munson?" You ask cooly, trying to hide that he'd nearly scared you to death. "I could ask you the same thing, why are you all the way out here alone?" He questions, while slowly taking a seat right next to you. He notices your sketch and his eyes go wide with interest.

"I didn't know you were an artist" he says, pointing at your notebook. "Artist? Hardly. I just sketch every now and then. Helps keep the bad thoughts away." You smile. You had just noticed how close he was when he leaned over to see your sketchbook. "I" you cough "I actually have a sketch of you in here from one of your bands recent shows" you looked up and your eyes met his, seeing the intrigue and excitement on his face.

"Wait, are you serious?! You've seen us play?!" Eddie beams, completely stunned. His heart is beating so fast he swears you feel it on your shoulder. "Can I see it?!" He blurts out excitedly.

"Of course I've seen Corroded Coffin! You guys are awesome." You blush, flipping through the notebook. You stop on the designated page and nervously hand it to Eddie. His face fills with joy as he stares down at the drawn picture of him. He was on stage with the band, guitar in hand, singing into the microphone, hair bushy and wild. It was the single greatest thing he had ever seen. He couldn't break his gaze from it until he felt you shift in your seat next to him, brushing his leg.

"This might be the coolest thing I have ever seen in my LIFE" he says confidently. "Can I, can I keep this, please?" He asked behind his brown puppy eyes. You couldn't hide the shock on your face as he spoke. *He liked it!!??! He not only liked it, he was asking for you to give it to him! You gotta keep your cool, don't seem too eager.* "Whoa Munson, I'm not just gonna off and give away my masterpiece for FREE" you joked, turning to him and touching his arm.

Eddie blushed heavily. "Oh, no, no of course not" he stumbled over his words. "I definitely didn't mean...." "Im sorry...." he scrambles before hearing you chuckle. "Oh my God, chill Munson I am just giving you shit. Of course you can have it" you wink at him before putting your hand on his leg. It was just a reflex, you didn't even realize you did it at first, until you felt his leg twitch. You look up at him and he is still blushing at you hard, with a huge grin on his face. "How 'bout this, as payment for this amazing work of art" he says, waving the drawing above him "you let me take you back to my place and we can smoke a joint?" He asks getting up and bowing before you, hand outstretched.

"Oh um," you take his hand nervously "Eddie are you sure, I was just kidding, you don't have to do anything for me in exchange." He squeezes your hand in reassurance, "Please, I'd really like it if you came and hungout, for my sake, Its boring smoking by myself" he jokes. You smile and nod at him and he slowly leads you out of the woods back to his van. He firmly grips your waist to stabilize you several times in the uneven terrain, and you feel like you are about to crumble underneath him every time he pulled you closer.

Before you know it your are back in the school parking lot next to Eddies van. He quickly opens the passenger door for you and gestures "M'lady" he giggles, taking your hand again to help you into the vehicle. He shuts the door and hurriedly walks to the drivers side. He slides in and takes a long breath. "To Castle Munson" he jokes before starting the engine and driving off.

You pull up to the trailer park entrance and you can see Eddie tense in his seat. "So, its not so much a castle" he tries to joke, a nervous tone in his voice. "Eddie," you start, placing your hand on top of his on the shifter knob, "I live in the trailer park on the other side of town, no need to feel embarrassed" you reassure him, squeezing his hand. He smiles wide as he pulls up in front of his trailer. He quickly exits so he can rush to your side and open the door for you again. You sweetly thank him and kiss his cheek as he helps you up the steps to his front door.

At this point Eddies body is completely on fire. He had caught you humming along to his mix tape on the way over, could feel you staring at him, and noticed your hand linger on his when he put the car in park. If he wasn't smitten before the ride over here, he certainly was now. He didn't want to waste his chance to make a move tonight, he just had to be sure you felt the same and he wasn't hallucinating.

He leads you inside, still visibly nervous. "Sorry its so messy, its just me and my uncle living here and as you can tell, the maid took the week off" he joked, trying to scramble and pick up any trash lying around. "Is, is your uncle here?" You ask nervously, not sure what prompted the question. "No, he works nights, so it's just us sweetheart" Eddie says warmly, walking up to you. "So if your cool with it, I usually smoke weed in my room, helps keep Wayne off my back about the smell." Eddie says quietly, trying to gage your reaction. "Lead the way good sir" you tease, bowing slightly like he had done to you earlier. Before you know it he scoops you up by the legs and carries you to his room. "You know, its really not nice to tease" he chuckles before setting you down on your feet in the middle of his room. He looks up to see you giggling and blushing at him.

He plops down on his bed and pats the mattress next to him, "come sit." You sit cross legged next to him, knees brushing against his. You watched in awe as his fingers worked delicately to roll a joint on the magazine in his lap. He looks up at you several times and smirks. "You ok over there sweetheart," he teases, eyebrow raised. "I, I'm just, I've never been able to do that," you point at the joint, "and you make it look so easy." You smile at him as he places the joint between his lips to light it.

"Ah well thank you, one of the Munson family names many trademark skills." He says while he inhales a large drag. He reaches forward to pass it to you, but not before quickly brushing some of your hair out of your face, and delicately placing it behind your ear. You look up at him as you exhale, face hot. He takes the joint after your second puff and turns around quickly to find an ashtray. He heard you quietly giggle.

"Whats so funny?" He asks over his shoulder, confused. "You uh.....still have the braid in your hair," you point out, still giggling sweetly. "Oh I know I do." He says as he turns back towards you. "Been wearing this baby with pride all day sweetheart" He confesses confidently as he passes the joint to you again. His eyes catch yours as your fingers touch during the exchange. *its now or never* he thought to himself. He sweetly takes the small remains of the joint from your fingers, stubbing it out carefully before placing the ashtray on his table.

Eddie turns back to you and slowly places one hand on your waist, and the other on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. He leans into your lips and whispers "Stop me if I've got the wrong idea here" before slowly pressing his lips into yours. He can feel you wrap your arms around his shoulders, and pulls you in for a deeper, more desperate kiss.

He breaks away from you long enough to quickly remove his jacket and shirt, his pants tightening around his boner as he turns around. You were now sat on the edge of his bed, chest bare, shirt and bra discarded below you. Round beautiful breasts perched delicately onto your body. Eddie swears he was looking at an angel, seeing how the low light of his lamp danced off your porcelain skin.

He was perched over you within seconds, kicking your legs apart to slide closer to you, bending over, kissing you fiercely. You could feel his warm calloused hand grab your breast as his other hand gripped into you hair, pulling your face up at him. You moaned as his fingers circled your nipple and Eddie growled into your mouth. He pulled away from you for a moment. About to speak before you stopped him.

"I want this Eddie, please" you say, panting into his chest. "Thats all I needed to hear princess," he replied, swiftly removing his belt and pants. He saw you start tugging at the hem of your skirt before he stopped you. "Oh no, leave that on baby girl" he says into your neck. A light shiver goes down your spine and your thighs tighten. Eddie notices your reaction and nearly short circuits.

Eddie reaches under your skirt and yanks your tiny, lace panties down your legs. You hear him groan at the sight of them. He tosses them aside and looks up at your face again. Beautiful, blushing, needy, ready....for him. He slightly picks you up and scoots you to a better position on the bed. His hands slowly trace down your body in awe. He'd only ever imagined what your (almost) naked body would look like, and he couldn't believe he was seeing it, touching it. He was in heaven.

He slowly moved his hands up your skirt and saw your pussy for the first time. He swears he died and went to heaven twice in that exact moment. He quickly perches himself above you again. "God you are so beautiful" he cooed, stroking your hair as he lined himself up with your entrance.

He waited for your reassuring nod before slowly pushing himself into you. You both moaned loudly as he bottomed out. He looked into your eyes hungerly, before crashing into your lips, thrusting fast, and deep into you. He was completely pussy drunk the moment he entered your small, tight vagina. He could barely keep from cumming as he felt you flutter around him, the intense feeling around his dick was driving him insane. He grabbed your throat and planted more deep, starved kisses on your lips.

The next 30 minutes were filled with lip biting, back scratching, hair pulling pleasure. Your bodies moved and intertwined with each like two puzzle pieces finding their mate. He slowed and quickened his movements at all the right moments, sending your body overboard with stimulation.

You quickly felt your orgasm rising in your core and you were moaning hopelessly, and loud. Eddie covered your mouth with his hand, shushing you while maintaining his pace. He felt you tighten around him, slickening his dick with cum, and he blew his load inside of you right at that second. He twitched a few times before pulling out of you, arms shaking to keep him up, breath hitched. He collapsed beside you and pulled you close. You laid in his arms for a few minutes while he stroked your hair.

"You know, I think this makes us official" you half joke, cocking your head to look at his reaction. A shit eating grin appears on his face before he springs up. "Uh hey, Munson, I'm sorry" you nervously spit out. He pulls up his boxers before quickly rummaging through a drawer. He grabbed a small torch and turned back to you, smile turning dark as he steps forward.

He slides next to you on the bed, not breaking eye contact. "Eddie?" You ask nervously as he takes off one of his rings. Eyes widening as he pulls up your skirt again slightly. "What, what are you doing?" You finally manage to choke out.

"Making it official." He smirks, lighting the torch near the prominent design of the ring he removed. As the metal turns cherry red he looks over at you, saying calmly "you're gonna want to hold really still sweetheart" stroking your cheek before putting his hand firmly on your back to steady you.

The next thing you felt was white hot metal making contact with your upper thigh. You squealed in pain but Eddies firm hand kept you secure, gently rubbing up your back as he cooed and shushed you. A few seconds later he removed the ring and examined the distinct brand he had left in your skin. He grinned at himself as he looked up at you, eyes a teary and wide. "Are you ok princess" he whispers, wiping your eye. You look down at Eddies brand mark and can't help but smile, "Ya.......Ya Eddie I'm ok" you whisper back at him, kissing his nose. "Thats my girl" he says softly. "Now let me go get you some ice for that" smiling wildly as he shuffled out of the room into the kitchen.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie the banished #eddie munson smut #fanfic

[lemon-wedges]

Just wanted to ask (and feel free to not answer), but how do you draw so much so quickly? I'm always impressed by how fast you doodle or paint. Also, wanted to say that I appreciate your Barok and DGS art as a whole.

and with this ask i have finally reached an artist milestone 😭

Well theres a short answer and a REALLY long answer (which ill put under cut when i get there).

short answer: practice + refs

which.....can be an annoying thing to hear. And as someone who studies art and has bought a LOT of online courses trying to figure out how industry people can just churn out work like nothing. it feels like a let down every time i find out their big secret. just practice and photo refs. Every. Single. Time.

LONG ANSWER:

its how you studying your refs. heres how i do mine

sorry if this is rambly. but ill try my best to at least be clear. BUT THIS is the EXACT way i taught myself how to be quicker.

I do not know if youve taken any art classes but essentially one of the ways to study gesture drawing is by first tracing ur photo ref to get a sense of the flow/proportions of the body. youve probably seen a billion of these tutorials floating around:

So last year around hmmmm june/july? i was NOT looking to get better at my anatomy or gesture. i was actually trying to get better at clothes. but my problem was it took me so long to draw out a figure (which i was fine with cause i liked how my people looked at the time) that i could never really just focus clothing part.

So i told myself look. ur not looking to draw in this style like this forever. so for now SIMPLIFY SIMPLIFY SIMPLIFY!!!! I WANT THE BAREBONES OF A HUMAN HERE TO MAKE A MANIQUIEN FOR CLOTHES OK

but how do i do that....

Im gonna use this piece as an example from my rise and yosuke fashion palooza month. FIRST u see i got all my photo refs together. i like those poses on the right and i want to switch out the clothes for the other ones i picked out. i trace out my poses. kind of like the tutorial up top but since this is about draping i was focused the exact places their waist/arms/legs/etc would bend.

and like the tutorial u turn off the photo ref and do a drawing based off that traced piece.

then i would turn on my refs and add on my clothes

And after a month of just doing that over and over and over. i was surprised to find that figures and poses were so much easier to understand when i would break them down like this. and once u get familiar with them the faster and more confidently you'll draw them.

I and still do this btw. heres my otasune from the last week

i used photo refs for all my sketches. if i cant find anything online to match what i want i just take photos of myself. and some might say well arent u just relying on reference TOO much?

AND AGAIN take it from someone who has spend a lot of money buying classes from their fav artists in the industry. The Secret of how they churn out so much cool work so fast always turns out to be this. practice and photo refs.

Every. Single. Time.(tho this is omitting a lot. im not getting into like they way they stylize their art work. that actually the fastest and funnest thing to do once u have ur base down)

Now PAINTING

The thing is, i dont actually post up all my work on this blog. So theres a ton of stuff you havent seen me do. These are some paintings i did 2 years ago for a class.

I already know how to pick my values and set up lighting. When you see me painting my figures now. i am not focused on learning these basics im actually just honing a technique.

you might see me post readmores with these kinds of wips. I lay in all my colors and lighting with the lasso tool. ALL THE MAJOR DECSIONS ARE DONE HERE

(the little miniature i add on the side basically tells me what the overall feeling is going to be when i blend in the lineart to be cohesive with my colors) ( also if you had any questions on my prepainting process tho. feel free to ask!!!)

and if you compare this wip to my finished piece youll actually find that i dont stray that far from what i've laid in.

everything happening at THIS stage is about feeling out how i want the textures to blend with one another and getting funky with some brush strokes.

and thats it? im not sure if any of this is helpful but if anything. i hope you come away from this feeling like what ive been doing here is nothing special. "THATS IT???? THATS ALL THERE IS??? well i could have done that :T"

exactly man. you can do ALL OF THIS aND MORE!!! I BELIEVE IN U :D

but ill let this be the last thing i leave u with my friend: my barok sketch and the refs i used for his boobies

#asks #ITS A LONG BOI #art advice #?

[kurjakani]

hiii sorry if youve been asked this before, but i love how loose and flowy your art feels, especially the sketches! are there any specific inspirations to your work/do you do any specific studies to get that feeling? im trying to loosen up my own work and im sure a lot of it is just the time and practice, but im always looking for tips from artists i admire :D

Hi!!!! Thank u ur rly kind SOBS.

I thinkk artists wise it was Claire Wendling who made me really wanna invest more time in line art! Ofc there's a lot of other infulences, my work looks nothing like hers, but it was like, the turning point of "oh. Man. You can really do so much with just line". People have said a couple times that my work reminds them of Egon Schiele. I wasnt familiar w him before that but I defi have let him infulence me even more after that.

AS FOR TIPS AND TRICKS. It's gonna defi depend a lot on your drawing practices. Im personally someone who draws a shit ton really fast, and sometimes returns to old work afterwards to makw some small corrections. I think tho these things affected me:

Getting materials for practice that are just, not worth anythimg so you dont stress about ruining them. Get some cheap ass paper and pens and just draw.

Draw w markers w/out sketching. It's really tough but it'll help you build more confidence. Do this pretty fast too. Things will look weird, tilted, off proportionally, but a) its practice b) in a couple of days you may find yourself drawn to these features. Theyre raw, honest and experimental and FUN.

Croquis!!!!! Live models are great, but so are videos/images. Unfortunately the vids at croquis cafe have been swiped off of yt & turned members only on their website... i am kinda concidering getting a membership bc they are fan fucking tastic videos... but image wise sketchdaily is a site that has timed photos for you to draw from. Yes, try the 10 second type stuff too. Not just that, just, try the full range of times possible. Shorter times force you to relax your hand and just go mindlessly without worrying abt "mistakes"

I think "mistakes" is important here. Ive had to learn that there is no one way to do art. Sometimes you will draw a hand way too big proportionally, but it makes the art more fun, cool/stylized, etc. I actually have some mild motoric clumsiness, and i think if you work w it, it can make for art ppl find endearing like in my case! I even sometimes lean into this, like by holding my pen in a childlike grip, to get a fun feel. It's all just experimentation and a shit ton of studies.

#kanitalk #ask #anon #sorry this was ramnly.im eepy as fuck

[ryuichirou]

Replies

A bunch of shorter ones today, but first!

We posted two top-centric hc lists yesterday, and I somehow completely forgot to mention Jack in either of them 🥳 I am so sorry to Jack Nation and to the goodest of boys himself, so at the end of this post there are hcs about him on both of the yesterday’s topics… (I’ll also add them to the respective posts, obviously)

This weird oopsie aside, here are the replies:

feverish-dove asked:

THANK YOUUUUUUUU♥️ i don’t think you realize how happy that made me. i love speedpaints but when an artist takes the time to break down what they did so i dont have to try (and usually fail) to do so myself it just goes brrrrrrr<3 im soooooo happy rn. you and katsu are awesome

You are so very welcome!! ♥️

I am very happy that the post was useful and any of my explanations were cohesive enough to understand something. And I really love talking about my art process, so thank you for your question!

Anonymous asked:

I just wanna say i'm in love with genderswap twst headcanons and arts... Thank you for sharing a full course meal-

You’re very welcome, Anon! I am super happy that you’re enjoying these. Like I’ve already said, drawing and writing these are a treat and a national holiday for me lol

Anonymous asked:

I’ll break Idia, you say? Well, I did always want to wreck him… 😏

Anonymous asked:

You can't tell me what to do 😠

I'm swallowing your art whole as you speak

Anons are misbehaving… Anons are getting wild 😳 breaking Idia left and right and not chewing stuff properly!

I love the chaos.

Anonymous asked:

I also have an Idia plush and he’s cheeked up.

His clothes sold out though so he’s naked. I put a Nagito jacket on him to hide his shame i.e. his butt.

Damn Anon this is even better though. Imagine Idia with a Nagito jacket barely covering his naked body. This image is doing something with my brain.

Anonymous asked:

HELP do you have any thoughts on azurido??? its been on my mind since i saw Floyd say Azul (probably) wouldnt mind keeping him as a pet for winter (?) break

Indeed, Anon, here is the tag!

Oh we love that line from Floyd lol This whole scene happens so fast and feeds us with so much stuff that it takes time to process.

Azul absolutely wouldn’t mind keeping him as a pet… it’s upsetting that Riddle probably wouldn’t be much of a help at the Lounge (the main reason for Azul to keep pets lol) but knowing how much Riddle’s existence wounds Azul’s precious ego? He would get super smug with Riddle temporarily being his lap cat. Or a little chihuahua.

Anonymous asked:

I’m not sure why but I would love the idea of Epel talking about how girls are weak and then getting his butt handed to him by a girl in Magical Shift. The competitive, tomboy in me would be grinning like a maniac.

Epel absolutely needs to have a girl kick his ass, and it’s weird that he even needs this to happen to realise that “girly” doesn’t mean “weak”; just look at his meemaw and how scary she can get. I’m sure Epel’s mom isn’t any better lol

Anonymous asked:

I had a sudden thoughts last night

So coway au

But it's just Riddle riding Floyd in a cowboy outfit

Thoughts? 👀👀👀

Anonymous asked:

yeehaw 🤠

I wonder… if you two are the same Anon… maybe not. Maybe we just mentally entered a saloon somehow and now I am a sheriff.

To answer the first Anon, this would be insanely hot, and I feel like if Riddle is drunk out of his mind enough, he could do that. He wouldn’t succeed though, because riding a horse is one thing, but riding Floyd while being completely drunk is totally different lol But it’s the attempt that counts. Floyd is going to be very entertained either way. Or annoyed, you never know with him.

Alright, so JackJack hcs.

strap hcs for fem tops or if they even use them lol.

Jack could’ve been very good at it if someone made her use it, but I feel like she thinks that this is too obscene of a thing to do. It’s not like she’s prudish, but wearing a strap is a bit too far for her. Even though someone would probably look at her and think that it looked very good on her…

Based on that one post about the bottoms getting creamed up inside how would the tops react if their partners are demanding/begging for them to cum inside them?

Jack – he is probably the type to start thinking about pulling out when he starts to feel his knot growing, you know, being responsible and stuff, but if he hears his partner begging or demanding him to cum inside, his brain would shut down completely and he would go even deeper than before and fill his partner to the brim :( He would be very embarrassed of himself afterwards.

#replies

[morguemaw]

Important.

So. I wanted to make this post, and my brother, and girlfriend have supported me. My brother knows this entire situation, but i wanted to come out about it because it has dealt alot of mental toll on me, and im scared of this creator. No, i dont want to interact or start drama. No, dont mention me to him. No, i dont want his apology. No, i dont want any pity. I just want to tell my story because it happened before, happened to me, and just because he has a "soft gay boy nice boy" attitude does NOT mean it wont happen again. What ill go over in this post roughly/you will get the impression of is;

Why i hate comparison

Why im fast to jump at conclusions/be defensive

and Why i mention my trauma with the UTMV community, specially under posts regarding art, art style, characters or character design.

And no, im not even posting this to try and tell people im some snowflake who cant handle criticism or compression, this is targeted to the people who have ill intent with those and go as far as to label things others do as copying or ripping off.

Yes, im okay. Yes, im going to continue what i do. No, im not wanting to send anyone after him. Please, just read what i have and understand that the way i am is because of something i have kept to myself and only 2-4 other people for the past 5 years.

Introduction.

To get it started, ill be calling this creator, he/him, by his publicly known name. However, ill also possibly switch from his name, to part of his username/nickname.

This creator in question, is the content creator named Lizherubones, also known as TwistedBones, thebastardbutcher ( here on tumblr, too. ) , ButcherZone, and his oldest username, Zippy3006. He sounds familiar because he was one of the bigger creators in the UTMV, back in the dark ages of fontcest being the normal. However, i will call him William, as that is his name, and its public information. He also goes by Will, so im sorry if i call him any variation of those names/usernames.

Other things you may read about in this is an old discontinued app called DoodleClub, a OC of mine named Ezher who is the reason why im making this post, as i wanted to draw and post him again, but the timeline will be abit scattered as trauma and blocked out memories happened because of this, however another important person, despite being lightly mentioned is another victim who i will simply call Az as of right now.

Ill try to keep this as short as i can within reason, there will be time gaps, there will be references to previous things mentioned, and if it gets rough i may even stumble on how i type and mention things too soon or later on, im very sorry.

The Start.

During the time of 2015-2016, i had first found Undertale. During it, i joined a app called DoodleClub, its where i met my brother, Glitchy. During this time, i had also joined Tumblr. With the rise and popularity of Undertale, i had seen alot of artists, some other popular names you may recognize is NSFWshamecave, BlogTheGreatRouge, and a few others whom aren't important to the story other then to get the gist of it, Lizherubones was one of the artists i had encountered, and grew attached to. I adored his style. To me, it was a perfect mesh of cartoony and pleasing aesthetics and anatomy that i just.. Well i loved it. This is when i got stupid. On DoodleClub, i would post artwork of either 100% traced or partly traced artwork of his, along with my own where i weakly attempted to mimic his style. Soon tho, i got too comfortable. Sometimes i sent him asks on or off anon, i drew him fanart, and on DoodleClub i even changed my username to "Twisted Bones", because i really liked that name. However, sometime a user, who i will just call Nutty for right now since its what i remember them by, they found out. Slowly, a few others did, and Nutty ended up reporting me to William. Now during this i never got screenshots, one screenshot i remember Nutty posting was one of William saying i was a loser for tracing, or something similar but equally short.

This ended fast, as people were on my side. But it didnt end there. Same day Nutty reported me, and word got out, i decided to confront William myself. I explained that i was sorry, i wouldnt do it again, and i saw him as a idol and wanted forgiveness. I was terrified and at my grandmothers trying to hide me talking to a almost 30 year old man about traced work. The first trauma tick with him, was when he threatened legal action against me, saying and i quote, 'Your parents will have to pay alot of money'.

May i tell you a few things;

I was a CHILD at the time. 11-12 years old, not even classified as a Teen yet. I couldnt legally be sued.

He lives in Chile Brazil, i live in Michigan USA. After about a year, and also after a third situation that happened that caused me to do alot of at the time feeling smart teen research, he couldnt have even attempted a law suit because of the fact i wasnt making money off the traced work, and that the laws are different in both states and countries regarding copyrighted content. Not just that but.. He was too far, and would have to come to me. Which again, different locations = different laws, and so on.

As stated above, i made 0 money or even thought to off his traced content. In my mind at the time, i just traced to learn the style, and ill even say it that from what i remember, i didnt trace enough to have it be my main thing.

After this, he commanded me to delete all my work, and to never return to the internet. Which i did.

Return of the Deja Vu (Instagram Arch).

Skipping to 2017, my slow return to the internet. I had gotten Instagram and decided i still wanted to draw. However, like a cow being branded, his style still stayed in my mind. Though, this time it was just muscle memory.

During both this interaction and the previous, both times William had stated his art , characters, and even worse the colors used on them were copyrighted.

In the end of this, because the more important one comes next, is people kept tagging him in my work. Saying it was familiar, asking if it was his characters, ect. Which lead to him messaging me on my now forgotten account, once again threatening the law to me. This time, however, i just told him to leave me alone as i wasnt doing anything. He had also made comments and remarks on my artwork like, "This just looks like a human version i did", or "Looks like a draw i made." ect, ect. I had made a very old, possibly lost Reddit account talking about this, which was made just within the same week of him telling me these. This situation ended fast, mainly because i went inactive on this account. If the name Zure/Zhure sounds familiar, that was apart of my user at the time.

The Big Blowout (Twitter Arch).

This is where my links and pictures come in. All are screenshotted from Twitter. This is also where i can provide more proof of things. I will mostly gloss over everything, as its foggy for me. The timeline is roughly 2019. On twitter, i still was ignorant and blind to this all. Rose tinted glasses. I wanted to just be seen by someone i looked up to and just get a small sorry if he even felt any pity. On Twitter, i began posting. I began to also like his art, but never followed. Just to try and gain his attention. This ended badly, however. After i first not only made a suggestive Human Swap Sans, at the time not realizing at this point what i was doing was taking inspiration from him rather then trying to copy, but i had also made a OC named Ezher.

Ezher was the main breaking point.

This is Ezher;

As you can clearly see, yes, he looks alot like William's own OC, Rheiz. , However, i remember clearly the source of what i liked most about Rheiz was the marks in his hair and the dark to light hoodie he wore. Something extremely important, but when i made Ezher, William was a faint memory to me at the time. So when i say source pf his OC, it was a distant memory and i didnt think much when i created him. Off topic note, but turns out that while talking to someone William considers a close friend, all i did was make Ezher half red, half blue and that made Ezher original. Who knew a color tied his fate. Sound familiar? Thats because mentioned earlier, William told me previously that he had characters that were copyrighted. He also mentioned that using the same colors as his characters was wrong, too.

Ezher will be getting a update and will be coming back. When Will found out about this, is when shit hit the fan. I got many, many @'s like this;

^ Mind you in the last screenshot, i was trying. I really was. A user named SnoweyBones also made a message on their Twitter, telling people to report me. This got my acc taken down. This is only a small part of what i personally could find. I roughly remember screenshotting the DMs + others, but they are either lost to time or something else.

If you couldnt tell, the gist of it was, William had made a post about me somewhere which in return led to a mob.

This scared me off the internet for abit, and i went into hiding for awhile until my brother started to give me more confidence, and i realized that everything that happened,

was all because someone was egotistical about a artstyle and monochromatic color scheme.

^ That was my old account. Very easy to find however, so it is what it is.

Things i found, Things you should know.

To once again clarify, im not seeking pity nor revenge. Im wanting to shed light and say my story about this artist, because this isnt the first time he has done this, let alone something terrible.

William has attacked another creator, this same creator he is following on Twitter and acting like nothing happened.

There was a situation creepily similar to mine that occurred not too long before my own. Similar insults and similar situations.

v link

William has a history of attacking other creators. His reasoning is that his own trauma is the cause of his actions. I have trauma with him, and the furthest i ever went was when someone used my characters (in my eyes) unique name for themselves and created a sexual variant of my OC without my consent and proceeded to openly complain, insult, and suicide bait members around them because i rightfully called them out for doing something with something of mine i didnt like, didnt let them do, nor would have ever consented to.

To sum it up.

Im not doing this as revenge. Im not doing this as pity. Because again, a close friend of his helped me and made me feel better during his final attack on me and helped me still connect to a OC of mine.

Im doing this because its for me a traumatic experience and a reason why i tend to act the way i do. Im scared to post certain characters, art, or ect without the fear of him coming around or others comparing me to him.

Again, my OC Ezher was the starting point of this. I want to draw him and love him again, but im scared of William.

Even if i have a whole redesign in mind, even if he doesnt remember me or even bother with me, even if no one cares or even if the community now isnt so butthole tight about stupid things like similar color schemes or aesthetics, its still something that affects me and has affected how enjoy the fandom.

Repeating this, but im not even posting this to try and tell people im some snowflake who cant handle criticism or compression, this is targeted to the people who have ill intent with those and go as far as to label things others do as copying or ripping off.

[whiskersz]

Matchup???

hihihihi, I’m Gray, yes like the color/colour. I’m Agender(afab) and use any pronouns, I’m ace and on the arospec (I think I’m lithioromantic?) Ive had 3 crushes, 1 fem, 1 nb, 1 male. If you’re doing romantic, I do tend to have a preference towards masc people.

I’m honestly pretty average, I’m very middle energy between chill and energetic, it fluctuates depending on who I’m with. I’m an ISFJ 9w1 if that helps. I am the therapist friend and sometimes the mom friend. I am very much a listener, if someone starts ranting I’ll listen intently through it all even if it’s for 4 hours. I have gotten so many hyperfixations that way. I have generalized anxiety disorder (gad) and im currently being tested for adhd.

I’m fine with romantic or platonic, if you want to you can do both

My hobbies include piano, I’m currently learning Duet from Omori, Art, I usually sketch characters don’t usually do big projects unless it’s for a class, baking, I tend to make brownies and cookies, though I can make other stuff like cake, and this isn’t really a hobby but sleeping, I love sleeping(which is weird because I either sleep really fast or I don’t sleep til 6am)

I like my friends, art, rain, comfy clothes like hoodies and sweaters, music, my favorite artists at the moment are Jack Stauber and Khai Dreams, dreaming, reading, puzzles, sudoku, plushies, sleeping, butterflies, Arctic foxes, kittens, fictional characters, and fandoms, some of those include dhmis, hh, interloper(arg), home safety hotline, etc. Some things I dislike are really tight clothing, being yelled at, harsh criticism with no compliment of what I did do good, being left out, feeling lonely, overthinking, my face, specifically my nose, mouth and forehead, pushing people away, ghosting people, and confrontation is a big one.

If you’re doing romantic, please don’t ship me with Angel Dust, I see him in a very brotherly sense. Similarly with husk.

I have listed characters before that I simp over and usually it’s either stoic and kind of cold or excitable and kinda babygirl vibes (I don’t know how else to describe it) and I already said above that I tend to have a preference towards masc

Something else that I could add is I do tend to have a trope I like? I don’t know if it means anything but I’m in love with rude or some other kind of negative adjective but has a soft spot for that one person and soulmate aus but that’s something else.

-Gray🦋

Hey Gray! So sorry for the delay, your matchup is finally here though! I decided to go with a platonic matchup c:

I match you with...

Charlie!

· You seem like a very wholesome person, so I personally think that Charlie would be a great friend for you, being equally amiable!

· She’s your number one supporter and she tries to help you ease your anxiety on particularly bad days; she reassures you that you don’t need to match her energy all the time, and that it’s okay if you feel anxious, she will try her best to be there for you and help.

· She might need some guidance as well, being in charge of the Hotel and all. This is where your mom friend side comes in; she greatly appreciates that you try to help her back, and that you listen to her in times of need. Sometimes she just needs to let it out to figure out what to do next, and you’re the person she goes to for it.

· You will also get to listen to her rants for hours! No matter what they’re about. They will mostly be about the Hotel and how she can improve the quality of life in it, but she will ask your opinions on it as well, and occasionally rant about her interests too. She of course loves listening to you as well, so don’t hesitate to rant back!

· Charlie loves that you like sketching, because she loves drawing too! You show each other what you make and she’s so happy to be sharing a hobby with you, where you can tell each other what you like about the other’s art and point out where to improve if needed. I feel like it’s more about the first thing though, as you both like doing it casually more than anything, so it’s a very positive experience!

· She also likes singing to the tunes of your piano; the others will stop by, mesmerized by your skill and her angelic voice.

· Charlie of course respects all of your dislikes; on your first day at the Hotel you inform her that you dislike tight clothing, and she makes you find a bunch of cosy and oversize clothes on your bed as a way to make you feel comfortable and welcomed.

· She also never makes you feel left out, and always includes you in every activity that she organizes whether it be with the other residents of the Hotel or as just a friend outing or hang out.

· She’s also not a big fan of confrontation, so she gets your dislike for it. If anything, you two can go through it together, and advise the other on how to handle it the best.

· She will also pull you out of your overthinking by coming up with some fun activity to do together; maybe you can give your favorite show a rewatch with her, or you can introduce her to all the plushies that you own- the possibilities are endless!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel #matchup #hazbin hotel matchup #charlie x reader #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel charlie

[66sharkteeth]

Hey, hello! I just wanna say j really love your story and maybe to shine a light or perspective I guess. I remeber taking not of Rex's scion changing I a few panels, Jericho holding a book that was defiantly where he got the name from etc. But I usually just keep those comments to myself and don't voice them out. I prefer to write plot related comments most of the time.

Also I don't think you should be so hard on yourself. I the story is going good and yes I know bunkers and quotas have to be met so you need to okay it sade as possible to appease as most people as you can. But when you start doing that you kind of loose the essence that made the the art and story so interesting and intriguing. So I guess what I'm trying to say is, I know it's stressful, the risk of loosing your stability but you shouldn't be too harsh on yourself! Your art and story is very amazing and the few quips ppl have are just a few bumps in the road.

Anyway, I still love the comic and I love the story so far. I dint think things have been rushed and things are progressing nicely. Lobe the latest episode too. A lot of effort went into it and it shows

getting back to responding to these now that im finally a bit more settled down in my new place.

though i'm kind of in a better spot atm, because i just haven't been as focused on CoB with all the moving happening, not to mention it going on a hiatus as of this week.

but i did wanna still say, i know i've been incredibly negative as of late, and i'm sorry it's become noticeable. it's just been a long time since i had any sort of win regarding CoB and it's starting to ware on me. i do still get nice comments of course, but they're literally half of what each episode used to get. the likes are plummeting, fast pass is down just as i move to a more expensive apartment, and comments dropped from around 500 on average to less than 200. it's hard to feel like i'm not doing something wrong. and like your ask says, yeah, i wish i didn't care about numbers but..... -motions to the new, more expensive apartment i just moved into-

i'd like to still be able to afford this place a year from now and i don't think i will if things stay on the downward pattern they're on right now. not to mention, i'm going to have to ask WT for one more contract soon to finish CoB how I want, and i am VERY afraid of them telling me i've had enough episodes for how much it's making and to just wrap it up with the currently contracted number of episodes.

so yeah like... sorry. i should probably keep it more to myself, but it's really, really hard to not be sad and worried about numbers when they dictate your livelihood AND possibly even telling the story i wanna tell. :')

[imveryrandomplzleave]

Okay SO i downloaded Help Wanted 2, right?

Spoilers

For context, I'm a coward. I am very easily scared, but I don't know how I keep liking horror games. I've only done the First Arts n crafts, the first carousel, the first fast food section, and the first Dj section. I keep getting scared. Im sorry.

IT looks so much easier when your watching someone play.

I didn't know Sun would kill you for eating the supplies (It's only the only jumpscare I actually had my eyes open for)

My first try on the carousel i chickened out because Moon laughed and I Panicked.

Why Are They So Big.

Everyone is so big. The Staffbots are STUPIDLY HUGE. Why does the chef bot have to get so close to my face.

Sun kinda suprised me with how tall he is, but not much, but also he's kinda squating so uh. He's preetyy tall.

THE FEAR THAT COURSED THOUGH MY BODY WHEN I SAW DJMM......HOLY FUCKJING SHIT. If you haven't played it, but have seen gameplay before, think that, times 5. HE. IS. HUGE. His face is as wide as my armspan.

Also you need a decent amount of room to play, or else everytime you try to do something you'll have the red ring thing.(At least on the Quest 2 thingy, since im playing it through steam.)

Also the little detail to the enviroments are kinda awesome. Like the walls with DJ that have the windows just look cool to me. In the first fastfood thing you can see the railing and the area below it actually looks as if it keeps going down and it just feels kinda immersive, and like the area is actually there.

ANYYWAYYSS I will update later when i play some more! Which is literally what I'm ab to do.

#hw2 spoilers #sundrop #moondrop #djmm

[bababaka]

Tell me a story. And i'll tell you a thousand more - Bade x reader

Summary: Hollywood Arts, the most privilleged arts school in the USA. And amongst many young talented teens, you were chosen to enter it. To be study there and be part of it. You couldn't believe it.

"Fuck. I got in!"

This will change life! And you are determined to make the most of it.

Warnings: swear words, not edited completely, i just needed to get this out of drafts, i will later edit.. And... that's it i guess? Like, bullying, mean teachers, but nothing much i guess. Oh, i also used google translate. So yeah. Have fun.

Author's note: so, i had this in my drafts for a while. I always had a crush on these two, and nobody wrote a fic with those two that fulfilled my need for them, so... here i am. Trying to mash my thoughts together and write something at least nice or ok. Im trying to write well. Don't have high expectations, im not a seasoned writer yet. Might never be. Also, unfortunately for me and you guys, this is a multichapter fanfiction. Sooo, you'll have to bear with me with slooooow updates. And im sorry for that. Anyways, enough chit chat, i present you, the chapter one to this mess.

Chapter 1 : I got in!

“Hollywood Arts”. The most privileged arts school in the United States of America. Only the most talented people passed the test. The list of competitors was huge. But, here you were, Y/N Y/L/N, in front of the school gates. You had passed the test, thousands of people competing against each other, and you had succeeded.

Honestly, it seemed too good to be true. The majesty of the construction, students, certainly in their second and third year, full of confidence, dancing, singing, playing, drawing, acting and even proclaiming poetry.

This was too much to digest.

You could barely believe it when you read the email, your mother cheering and shouting in the background, while you remained frozen staring at the computer, reading and re-reading your school admission.

The best arts school in the country.

You entered.

Holy shit! I entered!

You have always been passionate about dancing.

It all started when your mother caught you in your room dancing to “hips don’t lie” in a completely clumsy and enthusiastic way. She then decided to take you to dance classes. You were 4 years old.

Years passed and you fell in love.

Dancing was expressing yourself. Tell a story. Saying what words were sometimes unable to express. Sadness. Happiness. Emotion. Desire. Anger. Feelings in their purest form.

And then, you discovered ballet.

Ballet made your heart race in a way nothing else did. The slow and elegant steps, fast and rigorous. Dancing made you feel alive, happy, ecstatic.

At the height of your 10 years, watching a small part of the film your mother was watching, Black Swan, before her noticing your presence and kicking you out to your room, you found yourself trapped, in a trance, enchanted by the dance, by the way how the actress moved, how she leapt into the air and landed softly on the stage.

The next day, you begged your mother to take you to ballet classes.

At first, it was difficult. The dance classes previously were fun, relaxed. Here, they asked for excellence. Your teacher was strict and classmates were mean. There were many days when you came home crying or upset. Your mother tried to change classes, convince you to go back to dance classes, but you were stubborn. And you were more than determined to show everyone, your teacher, your classmates, that you were good, that you could be the best. So you did what you could, trained and trained, danced until your toes grew calluses and you could no longer support yourself properly.

It was difficult, but now, more than ever, you saw the results of your efforts. Oh, how you would love to see the faces of the girls who tried to get into the school but failed. You did it.

#Suckit

You would love to rub it in each of their faces. But, you didn't have time for that. What you had to do was take a deep breath, enter those gates and find where your first class would be.

Here we go.

The hallways were crazy, lost students like you walked by, friends who hadn't seen each other for the entire vacation and others who argued, dissatisfied with the classes they fell into.

Although you felt tempted to ask one of the students, you thought it would be safer to ask an adult. Supervisor, coordinator, any adult. A teacher, janitor.

You didn't trust students, especially at a talent school, the ego and arrogance must be astronomical.

You watched Glee. You didn't want to end up in a crackhouse.

But unfortunately, the hallways were full of teenagers, and there was no teacher, sign, or voices coming out of speakers magically guiding you in the direction of your next class.

You look around, searching for someone who was as lost as you. You didn't want to be the only idiot who didn't know their way around.

You find something similar.

A boy your age, talking and gesturing. He seemed to be asking a paralyzed girl for directions. She didn't even seem to be paying attention.

You didn't know exactly why she was perplexed, maybe he was saying absurd things, but you wouldn't be surprised if the cause of the paralysis was the boy's beauty.

He was beautiful. Dark skin, brown hair, delicate features, not to the point of being androgynous, but of being harmonious, pleasing to the eye. A relaxed brown look, although it is becoming confused and dull.

You decided to step in and save the girl the embarrassment of being caught drooling, and, as a bonus, get the information you so desperately wanted. The direction for your next class, acting.

– Excuse me, uh, I'm lost. Could you help me?

This seemed to work. The boy's posture relaxed, and the girl, in turn, came out of her trance and began to glare at you, shooting lasers from her eyes.

The boy smiled. And, wow. He had incredibly white teeth, and it looked like you were the only girl in the world, the tiny curve of his mouth pulled you in like he was the center of the Earth. The look that had a charm, brown like melted chocolate and all you wanted was to dive in and get lost in them.

Perhaps you have entered a trance.

But as soon as he started talking, you forced yourself to pay attention and not make a fool of yourself.

– I'm also lost. I was asking her – he turned to the “laser beam look”, who immediately stopped with the murderous expression. – But I don’t think you know, do you?

– What? I know! Of course I know! Nobody knows more than me! – and then she started walking, supposedly in the direction of the room where the boy had his class. – You're a first year, right? – she asked the pretty boy, completely ignoring you.

He looked at you sideways.

– Uh, yes, yes, I am. – She nods, and turns forward, determined, as she starts talking without stopping.

She says her name, Trina Vega, how she got into school, how she is so talented at so many things, how popular she was, and that they would make a great couple. At this part, you were shocked, eyes widening quickly, mouth falling open. She was… direct.

And maybe a little clueless, considering that the boy started to walk more slowly, putting distance between him and Trina, and standing next to you.

He leans into your side.

– She's a little… eccentric…

You laugh.

– That may be an understatement. – You look at Trina, who continued to talk. – Look, she hasn't even noticed that you're not paying attention, or even close to her.

It was his turn to laugh.

– Yeah… – He clears his throat. – I'm Beck, nice to meet you. – He stops for a moment, and extends his hand to you.

You say your name and take his hand, shaking it. Soon he started walking again so as not to lose sight of Trina, who was still talking.

– You’re a first year too, right? – You nod in response. – Yeah, I imagined it. Which course did you enroll in?

– Dance, more specifically, ballet. You?

– Cool. I came to do drama, acting.

– Cool. – You smile, he reciprocates.

For a moment, you forgot what you were saying, going and even thinking. He was cute, handsome and had a nice voice to listen to, something rare coming from a teenager. The short hair thrown to the side, looked soft, made you want to run your fingers through the strands.

The cute boy's small, happy smile was damaging your brain, because the world disappeared around him and you couldn't think about anything else.

Until, finally, Trina realized that Beck wasn't close to her, much less listening to what she was saying.

– Hey! – she called. You turned to her, who had a frown that turned into a forced smile. – We arrived, and you didn’t tell me your name. – She leans over and smiles at Beck.

You were ignored, again.

– Oh, it's Beck. And this is. – He tries to introduce you, say you name and be polite. But Trina interrups him, muttering “whatever” and heading back to the door.

Well, that was nice.

– Sikowits, I brought two lost students. – Then the bell rings, and Trina turns to Beck. – I'll see you around, Beck. – He blinked. And gone, probably to his own class.

– Please don't. – Beck says, with a pained expression. But it was too late, Trina couldn't hear him anymore, or at least, she pretended not to.

You sympathized with the situation.

It seems that being too handsome had its downsides.

His attention returned to the teacher who was at the door.

Bald, messy hair and beard, a slightly unbalanced look, layer after layer of clothing, he had a sloppy style. Maybe he was a hippie. Or just weird. It was probably both.

The hippie professor smiled, in a warm, disturbing way (you seriously wondered if that man was sane. You hoped he was).

– Be welcome! What are your names?

Beck withdraws into himself, becoming shy. How cute.

– Beck Oliver.

The please-don't-be-crazy teacher leans over to look at a list that was laid out on the table. The list of student names.

He turns to the boy beside him.

– Oliver? Alberto Oliver?

Beck puts his hand on the back of his head, looks at you sideways, and nods.

– Yes, but I prefer Beck.

– Understood! Come in, come in. – He calls Beck with his hand enthusiastically, the boy enters and sits in one of the chairs. Then, the bald professor turns to you. – Your name?

You say your full name.

– Oh yes. It's here too. Come in and sit down. The class is about to start. I just have to find the lost and innocent sheep that are lost in the corridors.

You made a face when you heard the phrase… He sounded so weird that way…

As long as he didn't kill or abuse anyone and was a good teacher, you wouldn't have a problem.

You entered the room and deciding quickly and safely, you turned to Beck, hoping to find an empty seat next to the boy. But, as expected, all the seats evaporated, and Oliver found himself surrounded by people, mostly girls.

You sighed and sat in the front, next to a girl with red hair (it didn't look natural, but you'd ask later) who had a friendly smile on her face. It seemed like a good option.

You sat down, and introduced yourself. The girl smiled, with her white teeth and a gentle and innocent aura formed around her.

– I'm Cat!

You smiled, enchanted by the redhead's cuteness.

– Cat? Like the animal? – the girl walked away, running her hand through her hair, her brow furrowed.

– What? What do you mean by that?

– No! I'm just saying that cat sounds like a kitten. – You explained yourself, nervously. You didn't want to scare the girl.

– Kittens? I like kittens! They're so cute!

You let out the breath you were holding. Cat returned to the bubble of innocence and happiness that she was at the beginning.

– Yes, they are.

Then, the professor, Sikowitz, if that was really what Trina called him, came back into the room, with a coconut and straw in one hand, and sunglasses in the other.

– Well done, class! I'm not going to ask you to introduce yourselves. You will improvise a scene. You will play the person next to you, I don't care if you don't know each other. Create a character and then live the character!

The Hippie Man asked them one by one to come forward in front of the class.

There were some interesting and funny monologues.

A black boy, with dreadlocks, a beautiful smile and lots of charm, played a shy nerd who stuttered around girls and had a puppet who made derogatory comments about the situation.

The scene was hilarious. Especially when he started interacting with the students while in character.

There were some very good ones.

Beck, who, to your surprise, played one of the girls surrounding him, and, unfortunately for Sikowitz, used the teacher as his scene partner. He was visibly uncomfortable. And the girl too. Shrinking in her chair as Beck performed, exposing how irritating she was.

She'll probably leave the boy alone after this.

Probably.

There was also another girl, brown hair, black leather jacket and pants. She was incredible. Before getting into character, she seemed closed off, grumpy, with a frown on her face. But, as soon as the scene began, her entire expression and body language changed to a more clumsy and agitated girl like a nice but extremely clumsy girl.

And other performances could improve. You were part of the last group. See, you were a dancer, not an actress. You knew you had to take acting classes, but that didn't mean it was your strong point.

You had to play Cat. You weren't horrible, but you could have done better. When he had to face all the attentive eyes of your classmates and the teacher, a chill took over your stomach and a pressure to not make mistakes was placed in your mind. At first, it was difficult, but as the scene developed, your performance improved.

As the last student finished presentation, the teacher stood up, applauding.

– Very good! You have to learn and perfect the ability to transform into a character in a short time, to analyze your character and to transform yourself in the snap of a finger. – He snapped his fingers right in your face, you jerked away reflexively, startling yourself. He smiled. And the bell rang. – Anyway. That's all for today. You even had the chance to socialize and get to know each other. – he said as everyone got up and left. You did the same, gathered your things and stood up. You were at the door when you heard him sigh and murmur:

– Ah, being young, I can remember what it was like to have dreams and hope.

…You were sure this wasn't normal…

You heard your name. You turned around, and saw red hair, you looked down, realizing that Cat was smaller than you. That made her even cuter.

– What class do you have now?

You searched your pockets, in the slim hope of finding your schedule. After long, embarrassing moments, you found it and read it out loud.

– Ballet.

– Oh, I have singing lessons now – Cat seemed to deflate. But only for a few seconds. – Do you want to sit with me at lunch?

You responded quickly, jumping at the opportunity of not having to be alone during lunch.

– Yes of course! – You looked around, remembering Beck, hoping to see him, but in vain, he had already disappeared into the corridors. But, you didn't let that bother, or sadden you, you would invite him to sit with you at lunch, in the low probability of being able to do so before the boy was bombarded by people.

– OK! Until lunch then!

Finding the ballet class was easy. You just followed the smell of pain, tears, deceit and extreme competition.

…Actually, you just followed the girls in buns and leotards.

You entered the room, or rather dance salon. The floor was smooth and black, a large mirror covering the entire wall, a large speaker and a piano at the back of the room.

The teacher, apparently, was not there. But the students were already stretching. Some in groups, others alone.

You saw some faces you had already anticipated. The rich, mean girls who were born doing ballet. The girl obsessed and completely focused on doing her best, making her potentially meaner than the other girls. The pretty boy who, because he does ballet, thinks he's cool and that everyone is in love with him. The boy who feels the need to say all the time that he's not gay, he just likes to express himself through dancing!

However, you also saw other faces you hadn't seen before, and that was a pleasant surprise. Dealing with the same types of people became boring.

Hollywood Arts would be a beginning, not only of your artistic career, but of a social life in ballet. I didn't want to ruin your high school experience with drama, toxicity, and cliques.

But unfortunately, you didn't have the best start. Because while you were analyzing and admiring everything around you, your teacher arrived, and it was then that you noticed, everyone was stretched out and dressed appropriately, while you were still standing, wearing jeans, sneakers and a shirt. No stretching.

It was instantaneous. Not only did the teacher's eyes land on you. The entire room was focused on you.

Shit. You flinched.

– You're late. – The teacher says, approaching you, like a predator approaches its prey. A panther, walking elegantly and silently, with total firmness and confidence, about to attack a beautiful and vulnerable little rabbit. The panther knows that the rabbit is already dead. Only a matter of time for death to actually occur, until the panther snatches the prey.

The bunny becomes alert, realizing the danger. Look around. Pay attention to your ears and sharpen your vision.

– The bell hasn't rung yet and class starts in 3 minutes.

The panther stops. Paying attention to the victim's movements, but at no time revealing their position or losing their calm.

– Exactly. 3 minutes and you're like this. – She points to your clothes, with clear disdain. The rabbit flinches, sensing claws wrapping around its fur. – Without the leotard and without stretching. Unprepared. I start my class on time, warm-ups start when the bell rings. So, miss late, you have – the teacher glanced briefly at the clock and turned her eyes to you. – 2 minutes to put on your clothes and stretch, otherwise you will go to detention and will not be able to participate in this class.

The rabbit begins to struggle, panic arising as it sees the possibility of death right in front of it.

– But just to get to the bathroom takes a minute.

The teacher smiles, in a sadistic and amused way

– Then, I suggest you run.

Crunch! Fur turning scarlet, sharp fangs tearing flesh, paws playing with the limp, lifeless body.

You took off. Hearing giggles and one last image of the teacher's smile

The predator was sated. For now.

You admitted it. You've never stretched so quickly and inefficiently, nor were you so frivolous when adjusting your tights.

But, it was what you had to offer at that moment.

– Miss late! You have exceeded your time of 2 minutes, but as I am in a good mood I will let it pass. Let it serve as a warning to everyone. Be prepared BEFORE class starts. Otherwise, well, you don't want to find out. Now, don't just stand there, join the warm-up!

And you fumbled a little out of pure nervousness, and heard some giggling around, but after a few minutes, you were already in your element.

The warm-up was brutal.

Yes, of course, you already had years of ballet, but still, the teacher seemed to want you to kill yourself in the warm-up. Because it lasted 40 minutes.

To you, it felt like two hours.

Damn, who warms up for 40 minutes? Well, apparently, your new teacher.

When the warm-up, which lasts longer and is heavier than you're used to, finally ends, you're sweating profusely and out of breath. Some were in the same state as you, others were worse, and a group of girls were in better shape, they were sweaty and out of breath, but still, visibly more composed.

The teacher waited in silence for a few moments. Just analyzing all the students.

The teacher approaches the group of 5 who were sitting on the floor, taking in lots of air, barely avoiding getting sick. Some were coughing.

– Pathetic. – She said, her lips lifting in disgust and disdain. – What would your names be?

The group fumbled among themselves, saying full names, others just trying and failing in between, preferring to breathe. One boy almost threw up.

The teacher put her hands in the air and waved them. Exasperated.

– Stop, stop, stop. Are you by any chance animals? Don't know how to speak one at a time? – she sighs. – What were you thinking when they accepted you? Hmph… Disgusting…

– Why does every ballet teacher have to be mean? – a girl next to you commented quietly. You laughed quietly, bitterly, as you watched the teacher insult the poor young teens on the floor.

– It must be something they need to have on their resume. “Expert in torturing teenagers.” – You responded in an equally silent tone.

– Also, didn’t she have a vote in the admission of students? Why does she complain about the school's admissions system if she is part of it?

You shrugged.

– Some evil plan to destroy our self-esteem?

The girl quickly turned to you, a small smile on her face and an outstretched hand, as subtle as she could without drawing the teacher's attention.

– I'm Daisy.

You introduced yourself.

And in mutual and silent agreement, they turned to the teacher. You feared what would happen if the teacher caught the students talking.

Your attention returned to the scene and you only heard the last two names of the group. All red, from shame or exhaustion, you didn't know. The teacher didn't answer anything, just left them on the floor, recovering, and started walking around the room, quickly passing in front of each student.

– You are… Pathetic. Some more than others. But – he made a show of sighing loudly. – As you were accepted, I will make you true artists, dancers. You must breathe ballet, move with elegance and dexterity at all times, and face the world, the stage without fear. The classes will be difficult, long and will demand determination and strength from each person. And I will not hesitate to take punitive action against those who are not taking this seriously. Because, as your teacher, your performance in the future will reflect on my image. Therefore, now they will imitate me. I'm the best, and so will you.

The teacher pauses, and you can hear the tension in the air, the nervousness and everyone shifting in their seats, anxious.

– Am I understood?

Several voices sounded throughout the room, including yours. All saying yes. The teacher smiled.

– Good. Now, let's start the class.

You swallowed hard, already feeling tired, but still, strangely excited. It would be a challenge, and you loved difficult things.

After painful and sadistic hours (yes, hours!), the class was finally released for lunch, and then afternoon classes.

The teacher informed them that the ballet class had an exclusive bathroom and that if they wanted (but, from the disgusted way she sounded, it seemed more like a requirement) they could take a shower there.

You perked up when you heard this, and most of the students did too. It would be horrible to have to continue at school with all that crust of sweat on your body.

So, after the teacher left, everyone packed their things and went to either take a shower or have lunch.

You were more than ready to head to the bathroom and shower. You were tired, but the sweat on your body bothered you more than fatigue.

– Hey, are you going to eat or take a shower first?

You looked to the side. The girl you talked to after the warm-up. Was it Daphne? Daniela? Delilah? No, that was ridiculous. It was something with D.

– Im going to the shower. I couldn't eat something feeling dirty.

– You sure? As we are being released early, the queue is non-existent to buy… Anything.

– I'm sure. – You smiled, slightly touched by the girl’s kindness. She waved and said goodbye to you, leaving for lunch.

After a long and well-deserved shower, you head to the cafeteria where the food was. Heavens, how hungry you were!

Arriving in the area, you began looking for Cat and Beck. Not surprisingly, you found Beck first. Surrounded by people, girls and boys.

You decide to try to get past the crowd and rescue Beck, who now seems overwhelmed.

You squeeze between people, making your way through elbows and curses, until you reach the center, feeling several hateful looks on you.

Beck's face lights up when he sees you, and he calls your name, approaching you.

– Hey, what are you doing? – he asks, ignoring the entire crowd around him, and you can feel the commotion that this generates. You smile, focusing on nothing more than the boy in front of you.

– Trying to save you from this crowd by inviting you to lunch with me and Cat.

– Oh, please! I would love to.

You swear something happened around you. People cursed him, complained, maybe even hit you, but your brain melted a little when you saw Oliver's smile. A captivating, happy, friendly expression. It seemed like the air around him shimmered and exuded something almost surreal.

What brought you back to reality was a tap on your shoulder.

– So, where are you sitting? – Beck asked and then you realized, the crowd had dissipated and only the pretty boy was by your side.

– Uh, actually, I haven't chosen the table, nor have I found Cat yet. – You then start looking for the redhead. The brunette at his side.

– Ah, I see… Who is Cat? Your pet? Are animals even allowed at school?

You laugh.

– No, no. She's a girl I met today, in drama class, while you were being surrounded by… Everyone…

Beck sighed and nodded in a more crestfallen manner. You stop looking around for a moment, to fix your eyes on him.

– Does this happen a lot? You're famous and I'm the only one who didn't notice?

– No, I'm not famous, at least not yet. I'm just pretty. – He shrugs lightly, as if it weren't a big deal. And you stop walking, and let out a disbelieving laugh. This time, his lips move to form a cocky smile.

– What? Are you going to say i'm not? – he prods you, and you fumble over your words, not wanting to deny it, but certainly not wanting to confirm it either. However, to your relief, he just laughs at your reaction and continues talking. – People have always approached me because of my – he raises his hands to gesture quotation marks with his fingers. - "exotic beauty". Eventually, I just got used to it.

You observe the boy next to you. Really analyzes him.

He didn't seem like the kind of boy who was an asshole, who thought he was better than everyone else, who believed he had everyone at his feet, when he really didn't.

Beck just seemed aware of the reality he found himself in. After all, he was handsome. Short but silky hair, great style of clothing that sold the cool kid look. If you had to guess, he seemed like a relaxed but extremely cunning type of boy. The guy who smiled at everyone, but had a mouth that dripped with venom.

You had your thoughts interrupted by a high-pitched female voice calling your name. Cat. He took one last look at Beck, who maintained a relaxed posture and the remains of a smile.

Well, you deduced, only time will show Oliver's true face, whatever it may be.

– Cat! I was looking for you! – you approached the redhead. She lit up.

– And, did you find me?

– Apparently, you found me. – When saying this, the redhead makes a sad expression.

– Oh, wow, what a shame. – You frowned, not understanding the line of reasoning, but before you could say anything, Cat was already addressing Beck. – Hi, I'm Cat. – she introduced herself, waving energetically.

Beck laughed, like you would laugh at something cute a puppy did, and waved back, but without the redhead's excessive enthusiasm.

You guys go look for a table. And when they find it, they realize they had nothing to eat. Luckily there was a food truck nearby, and everyone ordered something.

At the table, everyone talked about themselves. You revealed that although it inspired you, you never saw the film Black Swan. Cat talked about her love for purple giraffes and her brother. You were worried at that part, you didn't know if the small girl was joking or not.

Beck talked about how he moved from Canada with his parents to Los Angeles just for school, and talked excitedly about how he liked cars and was looking forward to getting his own.

When they heard sobs around them, that's when they left the bubble they were in.

– You're a bitch!

A blonde girl, green eyes, swollen and moist. She was the one who jumped out of her chair and screamed. Despite her anguished expression, she looked firmly at the table in front of her, and the person who was sitting there.

You recognized who it was from your theater class. She had a gothic style. Eyeliner, black nails, combat boots and dark clothes.

The green-eyed goth girl, you noticed, raised her eyebrow and took her eyes in a deliberate and prolonged manner to the bare legs of the girl in front of her.

– I'm not the one with the scraped knees.

She smiled cruelly, and amidst the deadly silence, a few muffled giggles could be heard.

The blonde girl choked. Tries to justify herself, you think she had says about a skateboard, but was unsuccessful. Then she resignes herself to letting out a sob and running away.

The goth turned her smile into a frown, and looked around, the many eyes in her direction. She faced everyone and with a loud, rude and direct voice, she shouted.

– What are you looking at? – and everyone went back to doing what they did before. Well, you asume that everyone had done it, you didn't bother to check. You just kept your attention on the girl. Curious. You wanted to know what had happened. And how she had made someone cry on the first day of school.

You hated this type of attitude, behavior, personality. You might not be the kindest girl in the world, but you certainly weren't cruel. Even when you felt the urge to be.

It was a shame that such a beautiful girl, with brown hair and green eyes, could be so horrible.

You assumed that beauty would spoil a person. You just hoped Beck wouldn't turn out to be that kind of person. Then, you finally returned your gaze to the table, and discovered that you weren't the only one who remained looking at her. The pretty boy also had his sights set on the table that only had one mean girl on it.

– She's mean. – Cat spoke up, breaking the silence as well as Beck's admiration and thoughts.

– She is. – Beck agrees, nonchalant.

You remain silent, taking one last look in the girl's direction.

It doesn't take long before the bell rings. You say goodbye to them both and head towards classes in the afternoon. The part of your curriculum is completely normal and, after theater and ballet classes, terribly boring.

Chemistry, geography and math classes stretched out, as if they had no end, like a rubber band that when it thought it was about to break, it stretched a little more. However, it didn't matter anymore, you were finally free to go home.

You were exhausted, physically, mentally and spiritually. Names of teachers, subjects, exercises, classmates piling up and colliding in your brain. You had absolutely no energy for anything.

Unfortunately for you, however, when you open the door to your house, you come across your mother, waiting for you, sitting in a chair, almost jumping with excitement. The true image of a puppy anxiously waiting for its owner.

Your heart is heavy, and your body and soul scream with frustration. You just wanted your bed. But, your mother sees you and you simply accept that you would have to stay awake for a few more moments.

His mother spews questions one after another at you.

"How it was?"

“Have you made friends yet?”

“Are all teachers weird?”

“Is there anyone famous?”

“Did they treat you well?”

"Are you well?"

"Are you hungry? I made dinner!”

While eating, you told your mother everything, it didn't take long for you to get excited too, even though you were tired.

You leave out some details, like teachers and some bad people, but otherwise, you confess everything. The many beautiful people, with a few exceptions, the strange talents and habits you noticed, strange and normal teachers.

However, sleepiness and tiredness manifested itself through yawning and heavy eyes. Your mother, realizing this, immediately sends you up to your room to get some sleep.

After a relaxing shower, you lay down on your bed, comfortable under the blankets.

Ah, finally.

#bade x reader #my fics #victorious #beck x jade x reader #jade west #beck oliver #reader insert

[tree0frog]

helloooo! i hope you are doing well!

may i request a doctor who matchup? original and modern who is cool (i’ve watched more of nu-who though 9-12 specifically)

i’m 23, 5’3 and what they call “chubby” or fat. I have longer auburn hair that’s curly. I am PALE, but you can still notice my jewish and greek descent from my facial features.

i may be short and chubby but i’m strong and can run pretty fast. (not for a long time though lol)

i can be a bit anxious and overthink. i talk to myself a lot, mostly trying to work out ideas for my art. i also have a degree in animation, so i point out a lot of film terms and references. i love some good architecture for reference images.

i can be a bit loud when im excited, i don’t really notice it until someone shushes me. i can also be extremely sarcastic, and a bit sassy. it’s all with playful intentions though.

i’ve also been told i stay very calm in stressful situations despite being a nervous wreck on the inside. maybe that’s good for adventures? 🤔

(i hope this is ok? anyways, have a good one!)

Hii sorry this took so long iv been busy and forgot that I had this acc tbh

I pair you with the 11th Doctor

You and this doctor have much in common and I fell like you’d work well together.

If you where going somewhere and your hair was bothering you I defo think he would braid your hair for you

I can defo see him finding your talkative nature cute.

When it comes to Nerves polar  opposites.

I pair you with the 5th doctor

I fell like if you where with the doctor but he had picked you up in 2023 and took you back to the 70s then he would find animation incredible

Like he know what it is and all that good stuff but to be Abel to see how far it has come of well you better have nothing on cos you will be here for the next 3 hours teaching him all you know.

The poor man if you make a sassy comment he would get so flustered I think it’s funny

I also think he would be interested knowing your background and religion even if you yourself aren’t very religious

#fanfic #doctor who #x reader #doctor who x reader #tardis #drwho #fifth doctor x reader

[riddle-me-ri]

15 Questions/15 Mutuals

Thanks for tagging me @finniestoncrane! This is gonna be fun!

Are you named after someone?

I actually am, my first name (I go by my middle name more lol) is from my paternal grandmother.

When was the last time you cried?

Umm...last week? Like...last Friday? Just had a really low moment and needed to cry it out to get over it rip

Do you have kids?

Nope, and don't plan on having any either.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I think I do, I just don't think it executes well, or my family just severely struggles with tone and sarcasm as a whole cause it works when I'm at work or with friends rip

What's the first thing you notice about people?

Maybe a typical answer but like their facial expressions and especially their eyes and then body language. Just something I've done from observing people.

What's your eye color?

For the longest time, it's been kinda hard to describe cause it does change color a wee bit in the light. But it's mostly gray-ish dark blue, but sometimes can look like a dark green, especially if I wear green.

Scary movie or a happy ending?

Scary movie, but with at least a decent ending.

Any special talents?

Umm...I can talk/sing really fast? Uhh i can make my fingers look wiggly/double-jointed? Uhh...it's all I got.

Where were you born?

In a hospital right across the street from where I would eventually go to high school....it's a small world after all

What are your hobbies?

Ooohh so many lmao; writing, drawing, walking, doing jigsaw puzzles, reading, watch movies (trying to watch more shows but..it's hard to commit lmao), and listen to music.

Do you have any pets?

I have a 14/15 year old dog named Roxi

What sports do you play/have played?

None...I was offered to join the girl's wrestling team once though im high school, but wasn't interested rip. I just wanted to draw.

How tall are you?

-_-....5 ft 1 in

Favorite subject in school?

I loved English, History, and Art...it let me exercise my writing and drawing hehe and I got to read a lot!

Dream job?

I'd like to be a storyboard artist or screenwriter...but for now I'm chasing the goal of being a storyboard artist so I can combine my love for both drawing and story!

Tag 15 Mutuals (again no pressure and sorry if you were tagged twice lol):

@lovesick-on-the-loose, @march-harrigan, @abbynx, @mietkoz, @taliscat , @letshaveadepressionparty , @little-silly-fucker , @worri-wort, @sweetums0kitty , @rainfallinthevoid, @a-rose-as-sweet, @aces-corner , @luckyspade-8 , @oddball216 , and @cooldreamyfox

#ri rambles #ri tagged #15 questions 15 mutuals #tag meme

[weenwrites]

hello!! is it okay if i ask for a romantic matchup from transformers prime? im a big fan of ur blog!! C:

so a bit about me, im a she/her and an INFP-t like literally everyone else on the internet but thats ok. im optimistic and sensitive and i always try my best to be kind, polite and friendly to everyone. im a bit moody and sometimes shy but nowadays i try to do whatever i want regardless of what people might think of me. im creative and curious and i like having fun!!! my friends often describe me as weird but in a good kind of way, as if im some strange whimsical creature 👽 im super artsy and express my weird style proudly, both in the way i dress and how i present myself. i know u said physical appearance doesn't matter but ive had a buzz cut for around half a year now and it kinda became a part of my personality lol

hobbieees. oh i have many :D overall i enjoy anything creative that requires using my hands, but i mostly spend my days drawing, playing instruments, sewing or studying. i also really like the outdoors and often explore new local and even far away places just for the fun of it. i constantly try and experiment with new things and activities. because it's just fun

i love nature, art, animals, bugs. oh im a huge bug lover. the weirder the bug the better. i like learning new things, i like space, horror movies, sweets, music, fruit, flowers, funky earrings. i like a lot of things. on the other hand there's not much things i dislike, except for the usual like.... idk bad people? violence? drama? but yeah everyone dislikes that. however specific things that i don't like include getting yelled at, being babied/underestimated and ppl who are way too pessimistic.... i don't dislike the people, just the view. it can be so exhausting to deal with🙁🙁

i express my love mostly through words and actions! i like making my friends feel good by complimenting them or giving them gifts like small trinkets and stuff😈 but sometimes i put a bit more thought into my gifts and craft small cards, drawings, bracelets or plushies for them

i like everyone but im not sure how to describe my type. aside from the usual criteria like being kind and caring towards me there's not much that i am looking for specifically. i don't need someone eccentric such as myself i just want someone who likes my weirdness and who looks at me like 😍😍 oh yeahhhh THAT'S my little gremlin

OK SORRY THIS IS SO LONG describing oneself for a matchup feels like opening up to a therapist. anyway thankyou so much for reading this all ily 🙏💞💞 here's a flower for u!!! 🌻

✎ A/N: Aa! Thank you!! I don't mind that it was long, if anything it helped me write some more stuff! Also your forgot to include your sexuality, but I hope you enjoy the match up! The rest is under the cut since it's pretty long ˆˆ

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

Smokescreen

He's rather enthusiastic to have a partner he cares for so much, but if you've told him or if he's noticed that you'd prefer for him to turn down the hype a little, he'll definitely try to be a little more "chill" about it. He's rather inexperienced, but he's always eager to do his best in any situation, and when it comes to you he tries to bring his A-game and do his best to make you feel happy and loved.

He would absolutely love to learn about new things with you! Despite how he may seem, he's actually pretty knowledgable (when it comes to cybertronian artifacts and history, of course) and a fast learner. That isn't to mention that as a new-comer to Earth, he intends to learn as much as he can about the planet, not only because he thinks it'd be good to better understand the species he's trying to protect, but also out of genuine interest himself.

So if there are any interesting facts about the planet that you'd like to share with him, or books you'd be willing to lend him, you'll be his go-to source for everything there is to know about earth and humans. (A brief callback to one of my other things, this of course means that he'll be calling you whenever he has a question about something, but the more he does it, the more it seems like he isn't actually curious about what he's calling to ask you about, but rather he's instead doing it to hide the fact he really just wants to talk to you.)

And of course in exchange for everything you tell him about Earth, he's going to return the favor (as long as you ask him something he actually knows about)... But with your interest in space, he'd be able to tell you a lot of things about the stars and cosmos, all of which he learned about in the academy and from Alpha Trion while he was a guard at Iacon. Or he could tell you about cybertronian history, or cybertronian customs that he thinks you'd find interesting or funny.

But aside from that, he'd strive to impress you in whatever way possible, but unfortunately that's a bit... Difficult for him, since the first things that come to mind include feats of strength and shows of his fighting capabilities, but due to your dislike of violence, he decides to opt for other means instead. He quite literally searches up "ways to impress your crush" online and tries out the ones he thinks you'd like the most, like showing off his smarts, or showing that he's really interested in whatever's on your mind.

He's also the type of S/O who'd definitely try out stuff that their partner's into, so he's willing to try out a whole bunch of your hobbies if it means the two of you get to hang out together. I'd like to imagine he's particularly fond of listening to you play music, and perhaps he even hums along when he grows more familiar with the tune.

He'd definitely try to help you come out of your shell and he actively encourages you to live life whatever way makes you happy and live life with no regrets. He's also pretty quick to recognize most of his mistakes and make up for them accordingly. He also always emphasizes that he promises to learn from them (and he does for your sake).

Breakdown

He's actually pretty chill and easy-going as a partner. He doesn't usually do any showy romantic expressions of love (unless you like them), but that doesn't mean he takes the relationship lightly. He particularly enjoys just spending as much time with you as he can in your day-to-day lives. You don't have to do anything special like go on dates, he's just perfectly content hanging out with you and doing whatever you can together.

And contrary to how he looks as a "big brutish tough guy", he's actually very gentle and chill when it comes to you. He enjoys joking around and maybe the two of you even have a few inside jokes that you laugh about from time to time.

He's pretty fond of the great outdoors too! And though patrolling may still be tedious work, the scenery makes it all the more worthwhile. Not to mention that it isn't as boring whenever you offer to tag along for the ride. There are other times where the two of you go on foot, and he'll let you sit up on his shoulders to let you get a good view of the area. Or if there are any neat trees you'd want a closer look at, he'll make sure to lift you up there carefully and let you pick a leaf or a flower out of them.

Whenever the two of you patrol sparsely populated areas with lots of wildlife, he'll occasionally point out animals here and there, and he'll sorta make a game out it.

"Oh hey look! Dog! One point."

"That's not a dog..."

"What do you mean it's not—oh, wait, it's a horse, right? The horns make it a horse."

"Horns on a horse would make it a unicorn. That was a moose."

"That's what a moose looks like?"

"Yeah??? What did you think a moose looked like?????"

Of course he isn't any good at naming the animals he sees, but he thinks that it's neat that you get to tell him what those animals are, or what that plant is, or what that other neat thing is that he saw on the road.

And I feel like he isn't that squeamish or disgusted by bugs, and I think he'd find beetles or any kind of resilient or strong bug super cool despite their miniature stature.

Animals aside, Knockout once recommended that Breakdown should take you out to the theater, saying that it was a romantic thing that humans do. So you can expect drive-in theater movie nights to be a frequent thing from time to time. He'll let you sit in his cab and he parks somewhere with a good view of the screen. He claims that he doesn't find horror movies all that scary, and actually nitpicks at the actual details themselves, but from time to time you'll notice the subtle way his frame begin to shake and his tires twist during some particularly scary scenes... Tease him about it if you will, but not once will he ever admit to being afraid.

And also if you're ever interested in learning self-defense, he definitely would step up and offer to teach you how to punch people in the face. "You never know when it'll come in handy" is what he says to justify it.

He's not usually someone who gets hyped over gifts. That doesn't necessarily mean he doesn't like them, it's just that he's never received many gifts before, so he doesn't truly understand the hype around them. But once you come around and give him gifts, he gets around to understanding the appeal. He gets happy and a little excited whenever you bring him something, and he also tries to get you gifts to return the favor! But given his situation as a giant robot, he can't exactly do that for you, but what the two of you could do is check out old junkyards to see if there's anything neat to take.

#match ups #weenwrites