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#that’s the stuff that’s interesting to me
blackkatdraws2 · 2 days
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There are more things in the Parable than Stanley knows about. [Blank Scripts AU]
#hoh boy i was going to make a comic to introduce these monsters but#i couldnt help myself and made an animation instead#because i just think they're so neat and cool okay#yes this does have lore purposes and reasons and origins#which i.... will hopefully make a comic about soon if im not busy enough..#listen i cant for the life of me just infofump about my AU and OCs#because i just think that making actual content about my lore and stuff will not only raise the chances of people being interested#but also it will also raise my motivation to actually produce more content other than the same old recycled front-facing-profile drawings#i need to get creative with my stuff or I'll also loose interest and I DONT want that#in order to be happy with what i have i cant just think about it and expect to be given something new NOOOO i need to MAKE it ughh#i cant believe in order to get more content out of my own au i would need to draw it and feed myself ugh ugh ugh unbelievable (kidding)#but also#i wanna make a little music video or animation again for youtube#its been a hot while since ive uploaded anything in there at all#maybe an animation reel will do for now?#i hope so :(#because ive been working on expanding the Black Scripts AU#and honestly i dont regret it#i had a lot of fun making up scenarios and comics for Stanley and the Narrator (Black)#but yeah!#apart from this little video#you wont be getting an explanation on what these things are supposed to be#and why theyre there#actually i was originally gonna make this into a full fledge animation with sound effect/music/frame-by-frame movement/etc.#but i got lazy HAHA#tsp blank scripts au#tsp au#the stanley parable#the stanley parable ultra deluxe#tsp
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beanytuesday · 3 days
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GUE CHAPTER 4: LIVING DEAD
[But first: a brief message from the creator, which would have appeared BEFORE the comic, if I didn't just barely slide in under tumblrs 30 image limit]
Hello Everyone,
I was in the process of inking this comic when I suffered my debilitating hand injury, which set me back nearly a year. Even before I injured myself, I never intended for GUE 4 to take this long— and so in the interest of expediting it’s release, I took some shortcuts in the inking process through the use of generative AI.
Hah! Just kidding. But now it sounds less bad to say that I did save time by using modified pencilwork in place of inks, and the result is an end product that is decidedly a little rough.
I promise, nobody is upset about this as much as I am; I really wanted to present everyone with a perfect end product. But creative stuff like this has a half-life, and as much as I am proud of my work on GUE 4, I am ready to move on and get to work on other projects. (Maybe even… GUE 5? )
If it makes you feel better, just pretend that I’m the Thief And The Cobbler guy, and that GUE 4 is merely an unfinished masterwork pieced together after my untimely death at the hands of Disney gestapo. (Or whatever actually happened to him-- It’s funnier if I don’t look it up. Haha. Parody. Don’t sue me Disney)
And please, don’t freak out when you get to page 5. I started using a new drafting method while working on this comic, and I promise the art gets cleaner quickly. In fact, I think an adapted version of the rough inking method I used here can actually be used to in the future for faster turnaround, without sacrificing quality. Many exciting adventures await.
My deepest thanks for your support. Please enjoy GUE part 4.
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stars4chratt · 8 hours
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Subconscious
Pairing: Matt x fem!reader
Warnings: Again, smut / use of drugs / confessing / cocky to sub!Matt / softdom!reader / high sex (i do not condone this in any way guys, just a fair warning) / praise / stoner!Matt / grinding / handjob / vanilla(ish) / mommy kink / pet names (sweetheart, princess, mommy, etc etc) / a trip (no pun) / aftercare / a lot of swearing
Summary: The reader and Matt have been the best of friends ever since they were eleven. As they got older, the more vulnerable they were to alcohol and drugs. Matt would always be by her side getting high and drunk at desolate and abandoned parks, or maybe even in Matt’s room. Matt and the reader agreed to only stick to natural stuff like weed. But now, they’re taking it up a notch by taking a round and earthy psychedelic.
Author’s Note: stoner Matt > as i’m writing this i have Matt’s recorded twitch streams playing in the back. MY BAD I KEEP ADDING THE SWEETHEART PET NAME WITH MATT I JS LOVE IT SM ESP AFTER THE BAGS TT. Anyways, this wasn’t requested or anything this is something i just really wanted to write because i love it when there's a best friend trope weaved in <3 HOPE YOU ENJOYYYY. From Maxine, with love ♡.
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“Are we still friends? Can we be friends?” - ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?, TYLER THE CREATOR
╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗
Matt has always had an obsession with spirituality and the 60s. From the posters of Jimi Hendrix on his walls, to the deluxe edition Beatles vinyl records that sit alongside the vintage record player on his hardwood dresser.
Ever since Matt’s dad bought a collection of thrifted CDs for his car when he was only a toddler, he fell in love with psychedelic rock and the whole new era of love and peace and tranquil that came around in the mid to late 20th century.
Whenever he isn’t in his cramped and maximalist abode smoking bubba kush, he’s out going to underground stores which sell abstract and kaleidoscopic clothes and fashion statements in general.
The vibrant colours and the political mindsets and the pure lack of fucks to give during the time period has Matt enamoured. Calling him a big fan would be putting it extremely lightly.
You and Matt first met in 6th grade of middle school. From what you can remember, you were sitting next to him.
He was laser focused on his assignment with big and obvious headphones clasped onto his head.
Bobbing his head slowly to the smooth and flowy melodies, you pat him on the shoulder.
He turns his head and immediately pulls the headphones to the side so one of his ears perks out.
“What music are you listenin’ to?” Matt instantly thinks you’re about to ridicule him. He, for some odd reason, has always been the victim of mockery. You never understood why, he’s such a cool and chilled out kid.
“O-oh…um…” Matt stutters nervously. He was truly unsure of what to say or do in this situation. You could feel the fight or flight trigger in his hard gaze.
“Gimme the headphones! I wanna listen.” Exclaiming with an odd sense of compassion. Matt furrows his eyebrows and looks at you funny but still gives you his headphones anyway.
You whiz the headphones around your ears and onto your head. The hallucinatory notes mixing with the light and staticky voices put you in a heavy but pleasing trance.
You feel a big smile wipe across your face clean as you look back at Matt staring at you impatiently. Silently telling you ‘give me my headphones back, you weirdo.’
“This is so cool! What’s the song called?” You speak enthusiastically, still with a big grin on your profile.
Matt’s eyes light up slightly at you. You can’t tell if it’s because he’s shocked at your interest in this type of thing or because he was alarmed by how bubbly and enthusiastic you are.
“Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds… It’s by the Beatles.” He drawls out, now looking down at the floor and fidgeting with his fingers.
“Siiiiiick. Are there any more songs like this one?” You hand him back his headphones, you start to rock in your chair in anticipation and out of looking for something to do now that you don’t have the sensory fulfilment that is Matt’s music taste.
“Oh of course. They’re a band with a bunch of other songs and albums, kid.” Matt calling you kid after almost instantaneously sparking an acquaintance with you makes you giggle to yourself. What a funny nickname for someone you just met.
“Well, can you show me them? Pretty please?” You utter with an exaggerated pout on your lips as you flutter your eyelashes at him. You intertwine your hands and rest them at the side of your face to hyperbolise the sad puppy look, making Matt chuckle lightly.
“Fine…there are many other bands like them, y’know.”
“Show me those ones too!” Yelling down his ear with eagerness, he flinches at your noisiness and covers his ear you just bellowed in.
“Ugh.” He scoffs in annoyance, whilst you’re sitting across him with the biggest twinkle in your eye.
“Yay! Thank youuuuu.” Your genuine excitement makes his face flush into a deep maroon. He turns his head around in embarrassment, trying not to maintain eye contact.
“Yeah whatever, kid.”
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
NINE YEARS LATER
“Wanna try it?”
What Matt has in his hands is a vacuum sealed metallic bag. You could not make out what it is but you knew for sure it was some kind of drug.
“What the fuck is it? I thought we made an agreement that we weren’t gonna do chemical shit. Y’know how I feel about that.” You scrunch your nose in both confusion and disgust. Yet you were still curious as to what Matt was holding in his hand.
“Kid, have you never heard of magic mushrooms before? Jesus, for someone who smokes a fuck ton of wedding cake, you seem to have no clue what these boomers are.”
“I do know what a fucking magic mushroom is, Matt. I just didn’t want it to be a bag of heroin or some shit like that.” Your legs cross whilst you look at him through your eyelashes. You’re genuinely hesitant since you’ve never tried a mushroom before. Yeah, you smoked weed. But this is a whole different thing. This is a literal psychedelic.
“Heroin at mass is sold in baggies or balloons, stupid.” He chortles. “As I was saying, are you gonna try it with me or nah?” He chucks the small pouch at you. 
There’s a small plastic window where you can see the muddy fungi inside. You cringe in distaste, you wonder to yourself where the fuck he got them from. Incredibly skittish, you want to back out. But curiosity and temptation is killing you at the same time.
“I don’t think I wanna try this Matt. It seems stupid.” You scoff. Matt smirks down at you and grabs the bag again.
“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it, kid. It’s just mushrooms, you’re not gonna die.” He waves the sealed bag tantalisingly around your face.
“Fine, fine whatever.” You give him the bird and suck your teeth. He chuckles like a little child at your offensive remarks. He offers you the bag again.
“Ladies first.” He remarks cunningly.
You break open the packet and receive a heavy waft of dirt. You turn your head the other way immediately as a natural reaction. The strong scent almost makes your face almost turn inside out in repulsion.
“You’re so dramatic.” Matt smirks. You turn back at him with a mean glare.
“You sniff it, then. ‘Cuz you’re soooo tough.” You jitter mockingly right up in his face. Dragging your hand right under his nostrils for him to get a whiff. His eyebrows knit close together and screw his eyes shut.
“Who’s dramatic now? Hm?” Your teasing rhetoric strikes one of his nerves. He immediately plunges his hand in the bag and takes the squishy piece of matter.
“Hey hey, slow down. Let me get one out.” You yell out at him in shock at his lack of hesitancy. He rolls his eyes with impatience while your shivering hand places itself into the plastic bag to pick one out.
“Oh yeah, just so y’know, this could last up to 5 hours.” Matt states super casually. Your eyebrows raise as you look back up at him. You’re not all that surprised though. What were you expecting? It's not plain jane weed, it’s mushrooms.
“I don’t give a fuck anymore, let’s just get this over with.” 
Soon after you said that, you both hastily gulped the abnormal saprophyte down. Both of your faces contort at the peculiar taste and texture.
“Eurgh… that was the worst.” You gag at the displeasure going down your throat and into your digestive system.
“Yeah, this is a one time thing for sure.” Matt affirms with a deep frown. He turns to his queen sized bed with silk sheets and plops down next to you.
“When will these hit?” You quiz him curiously. Tangling and playing with the strands of your hair out of a way to distract yourself from what you just did.
“It's the same principle as an edible, it’ll take a while to hit. So don’t take another one.” He mumbles inconspicuously since his face is half smushed into his soft mattress.
“Shall we smoke some weed while we wait?”
“No, dude. We’d literally die. Let’s not fuckin’ kill ourselves from severe psychosis tonight, yeah?” 
You smile at his stupid banter. It’s what made Matt so appealing to you. His dry humour alongside his ridiculous behaviour when you’re both stoned as shit is like taking a breath of fresh air. Knowing each other for almost ten years and you two still never get tired of each other. Constantly hanging out, doing stupid and reckless shit ever since you two were tweens. True best friends.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
A while has passed, and the both of you are so far out of your heads. Every single time you turn to look at each other, the more distorted everything gets. You see things you don’t actually see, you hear things you don’t actually hear, you smell things you don’t actually smell. The tie dye-like swirls on Matt’s tapestries that hang proud on his walls disfigure and circle around putting you under a strict hypnosis.
“Holy shit…” Matt’s voice rattles through your cochleas, making your head sting from the blare. You move around to see him while your vision oversaturates and wiggles with no rhythm or control. 
“W-what is going on…” The bare echoes of your voice tingles your senses. The soft scent of Matt’s white musk incense blazing in the background fills the crevices of your nostrils and massages your brain, it was the only thing soothing you from the extremity of the situation.
“Matt…I’m scared…What the fuck is going on.” Abruptly, the effects on your voice quickly transitions into a thick static. The sensory overload inflicts the both of you. You feel incredibly overwhelmed and almost spiral into a state of panic.
“I’m here, I promise.” Matt mutters under his breath. His clammy hands take a hold of your wrist firmly. You look up at him to see his pupils viciously dilated while finding it hard to breathe.
“I’m so scared.” You shudder. Pure anxiety soaks you up but is squeezed back out when Matt moves your head to rest on his shoulder. He tilts his head so it lays on top of yours.
“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. I promise.” Your heartbeat pounds rapidly. You don’t say or do anything both because you’re way too high as well as wanting to savour this moment since you purely assume this will never happen ever again.
Why is Matt being so soft with you? Ever since you two first met, he’s never been the type to call you these names.
“From now on. Weed n’ fuckin’ weed only.” You demand in a serious manner. Matt sighs out a laugh while he strokes your hair in reassurance. “Of course… p-princess.”
You purse your lips as a way to try and hide the excitement from Matt calling you these sudden names. A million thoughts come racing through your mind all at once. You’ve gotten both high and drunk with Matt on several occasions. Are the mushrooms that strong?
Your vision is still eradicated and infused with neon reds and pinks. You want to close your eyes but when you’re in pitch black darkness, the patterns become more prominent and it freaks you out to an extreme.
You hear Matt whisper delicately which makes your ears perk up indefinitely. You twist your neck to look up at him for his gaze to meet yours. His mouth hangs slightly open with his pupils large and his eyebags hang low across his defined cheekbones.
“l-like…you..” He sputters out. He sounds like he has no more control left in the muscles of his face any more. Jesus christ, this shit is strong. 
“...huh…” Rebound of the vowels smushed on your tongue and teeth is elevated by the effects of the drug. Both you and Matt are incredibly discombobulated. You raise yourself from underneath Matt’s figure for you to try your absolute best to attempt to understand what he just said.
Matt’s now looking up at you through the locks of hair that drape over his low and inflamed eyes.
“I really…really like you… like, ‘ver since… I-I got to know you better in 6th grade…I now have a decent excuse for why I’m telling you this... I’m fucking tripping balls.” He laughs it off as if he didn’t just confess his feelings to you off the rip right in front of you, face to face.
You just sit there gazing down at him bewildered with your mouth agape. He clenches his lips shut and frowns slightly, averting his gaze down to the bed in regret of just blurting that out.
“Matt…w-what the fuck…” Immediately after you utter this question, Matt slaps his hand over his mouth and starts to slightly curl himself up into a little ball like a shrivelled raisin. 
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I-I ruined the experience… I thought you felt the same way and I was thinking too quickly ahead of myself I-I’m really sorry-”
You pat both of Matt’s shoulders and force his head up to look at you.
“Matt, I-It’s okay… I promise you. I-I feel the same. I know we’re both high as fuck right now, but I know for sure t-that I’m telling the truth. I really like you, Matt.”
His body loosens underneath you in reaction to your words. Your thumb rubs softly over his defined cheekbones. The frown on his face turned upside down completely into a large smile. 
Your big and swollen pupils squint down at him. His heavy breaths, his cherry pink lips resting lazily and hanging slightly open, and his frizzy  and dishevelled hair that drapes gracefully over his droopy eyes.
Everything about him, the whole sight of him makes you soaked at your core.
Your thighs clench together in desperation and you grit down onto your bottom lip intensely. The flesh of your hand is still resting on Matt’s face. You can feel the pricklyness of his stubble on your very fingertips.
The two of you just stare at each other, admiring every little thing about one another. In a comfortable but loud silence. The effects of the drug are still sharp around the edge, jabbing and stabbing both of your 5 main senses.
You feel your body start to give in and fall forward into Matt. Your forehead clashes with his. Your large breaths blend together.
Abruptly, he tilts his head up. His lips just graze against yours. You can tell he’s desperate with his eyes full to the brim with lust and eroticism. You pull away lightly with a smirk on your face whilst Matt writhes and squirms. He tries to follow your head so he can make contact with your mouth. He really wants to kiss you.
Seeing him this vulnerable makes you melt. What once was a bad-mouthing, cocky and smug little shit who smoked with you every week was now gone. He’s now tripping on mushrooms underneath you with a throbbing semi.
You manoeuvre yourself over so both of your legs are spread on top of him. You’re in a cowgirl position, with Matt. 
His prick pulses harshly beneath your heat. The only thing stopping the contact between the two of you are your clothes. Matt’s now fully hard, to the point where his dick has developed a tent in his harem pants. 
You start to sway your hips back and forth. Matt’s head flips back fully and his mouth hangs open. His Adam's apple is fully revealed and bobs up and down marginally. His hefty breathing now transitioned into hot and rowdy moans and whimpers.
“Look at me baby, look at me while I grind on your cock.” You finally spoke, after there was nothing but whines and sobs filling the air.
“Y-yes mommy…” You sigh out a sharp laugh. Knowing your arrogant friend who’s always causing a riot with alcohol and dope is now rock hard thanks to you, moaning and whining into your ear like a little bitch fills you with an overwhelming sense of fulfilment.
“Yeah that’s right, be a good boy for me. Keep calling me mommy.” You feel as though you could do anything to him right this second. You had all of the power and control over Matt. Your teeth grit together and the smirk on your face largens.
“You make me feel so good, Mommy. Y-you’re gonna make me cum…” The words come spilling out of his mouth like calm waves of the ocean. What used to be the intense sound of his voice from the drugs now turned silky smooth from the euphoria spooling out from your sensitive nerves.
You stop rocking your hips on top of his cock. Matt looks up at you with his bottom lip concealed fully inside his mouth by his teeth. 
“Take your pants off baby, lemme make you cum properly.” You command him pompously. Immediately, he speedily grasps at his waist band and tugs it down his thighs.
His cock bounces out of the loose fabric. The tip was swollen and pink with precum dripping out thickly. The rhythm of his breath matched with the harsh trembling of blood flow to his dick. 
“Jesus Christ… and I barely did anything to you, not yet anyway.” You tease. Matt’s face jams up with impatience and knuckles his hands into his vibrant sheets.
“P-please just touch me. I really wanna cum mommy.” He pleads eagerly. His eyebrows furrowed deeply into his skin and his face splashed apricot pink. His whole body shivers. Anticipating heavily for your skin to press into his.
You reach out your hand and wrap it loosely around his large and thick cock. You slither down his shaft slowly in a jesting manner. You leer up at Matt to see him gaping down at you, panting stiffly.
Your pace on his dick starts to quicken. Your fingers clench tightly around him making his jolt up into your hand.
Matt loses all control within himself and starts to thrust up and down hastily. Practically fucking your hand. You push him down with your other palm and hold him into place. You shoot him a mean stare as he gulps down what was left of his pride.
“Don’t move.” The stern tone infused in your voice makes Matt quiver. He tugs at the collar of his shirt and pulls it up his face to conceal his severe embarrassment.
What’s happening right now tells you one thing that you never would’ve thought would be the case. Matt loves being controlled. He admires the idea of being dominated. And you are contributing to that fantasy.
The pad of your index and middle finger press onto his fleshy, rosy-red tip faintly. A choked up whine crawls out of his throat and his legs rise upwards but your weight stops them.
“M-mommy… please don't stop... I’m gonna cum.”
“Do it baby. Don’t be shy. Be a good boy for mommy and cum.” You start to go faster and more harsh on his sensitive tip. Matt’s entire body shakes and his hips buck and lock into place.
“Cumming mommy, c-cumming.” His tip suddenly spurts out long thick strings of his load. Onto your face, your hand, your clothes, your chest, everywhere. Every single time a white rope would come spilling out of his prick, an intense shiver would shoot through his body and his shirt now crumpled into its original place.
He gasps intimately while you sit there with his seed still dripping down your face. 
Matt’s eyes suddenly widen and he raises his entire figure in a panic to grab the box of tissues on his bedside table.
“No no, don’t worry. I got it.” You disclose to him delicately. You tug out a few sheets of tissue and wipe at his skin from the waist below.
“I’m sorry for making such a mess… I didn’t think it would be that bad.” Matt utters sorrowfully. He pulls his pants back up and you grab more tissues.
He takes hold of your wrist to take the tissues from you. He places his thumb onto your chin to position you as he folds the tissues.
“It’s fine Matt, I enjoyed it. A lot, actually.” You grin compassionately as Matt swipes at your face deftly.
“I think that’s the first and last time we’re ever gonna do mushrooms, though.” He snickers, crumpling the dirty tissues and chucks them into the bin lying at the side of the bed.
“Yeah, one time thing.” You rest your head on his stomach, you rise and fall with his breathing pattern.
"Can I braid your hair?" Matt casually inquires. "I have a bunch of charms and hair ties."
You beam a smile from ear to him, your face fills up with a cherry blossom pink.
"Yeah, of course Matt."
╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝
Author’s Note No.2: I think this will most definitely have a part 2. I have no complaints with making a series, if you haven’t already noticed with me always bringing up pins n’ needles. This took me a while to write because I’ve been busy with exams and social life. But I finally completed one after 2 weeks!!! Yayyy!! ‘Till next time, pooks.
༝༚༝༚, Maxine.
Taglist: @gamermattsgf @luverboychris @worldlxvlys @chrissystur @chaosisalwayscrying @bellasfavbisexual @luvmxtt @tillies33ssss @breeloveschris
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the-desert-beast · 2 days
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i find it fascinating that we never followed through on the sylvari racism, or the norn's fight to get their home back, or the asura's societal response to primordus' death.
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lighting the fuse might result in a bang
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pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.
author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3
When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes. 
“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.” 
“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.” 
Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.
The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.
There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see. 
Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party. 
Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly. 
“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.” 
“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”
She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.” 
You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets. 
“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”
“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”
“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.” 
“Whose?”
Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.
While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead. 
Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.
The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick. 
“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?” 
“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”
There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table. 
Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game. 
It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win. 
Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet. 
Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.
Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.
“Are you about to be a sore loser?” 
He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.” 
It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond. 
“Then expect to lose.”
The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more. 
*
Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this. 
Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night. 
“Why aren’t you ready?” 
“I’m not going anywhere.” 
She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.” 
“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?” 
In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.
It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way. 
When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around. 
Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap. 
You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more. 
“Fancy a rematch?” 
It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose. 
“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?” 
There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.
You stay put.
“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.” 
“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.” 
It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.
“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.” 
“How many beers have you had?” 
“Three, I think?” 
Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you. 
So you say it anyway. 
“I bet I could outdrink you.” 
“I’d like to see you try.”
He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition. 
The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight. 
By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.
“You guys doing okay?” 
“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.” 
“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.” 
“Are you going to?” 
He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?” 
The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.
“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.” 
Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.” 
*
It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head. 
You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once. 
By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.
Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.
It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.
“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.
With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch. 
Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest. 
There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building. 
But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.
So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting. 
There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again. 
Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms. 
“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”
Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.” 
You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway. 
You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.
“Mind if I join you?” 
Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.
No one told you Luke smokes. 
You tell him as much.
“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.” 
“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.” 
He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.” 
It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system. 
“You ever blown a smoke ring?” 
If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now. 
“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?” 
“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes. 
“We can share.” 
It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea. 
“You’re on, Castellan.” 
As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.
Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular. 
Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.
You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.
You aren’t as drunk anymore. 
You really wish you were.
It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you. 
“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close. 
“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.
What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby. 
You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen. 
“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.” 
He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.
His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.
*
Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.
“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.” 
“I know you hooked up with Luke.” 
“Seriously?” 
She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.” 
“You bet on it?”
“Of course we did, it’s our brand.” 
“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.” 
“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”
When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight. 
The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy. 
It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend. 
You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.
Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight. 
If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does. 
And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.
“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”
“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?” 
“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t. 
“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”
It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it. 
“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter. 
Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.
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Not to be self congratulatory but a classmate was doing a study for one of his game design classes and asked if I’d be one of his participants. I like him so I said yes and he had me do a questionnaire and then set me up in front of Street Fighter.
He had me with set parameters and told me to just fight it out so I did. I watched his eyebrows go up when I finished but he couldn’t comment until the end.
He asked if I played Street Fighter regularly and I said no. I told him I played stuff like Bloody Roar, Guilty Gear, Mortal Kombat and Smash Bros growing up socially, but it’s never been my genre.
He asked if I would be more interested to play Street Fighter after this test and I said no.
He started quietly laughing when I finished all the questions and I said, “What? Did I do poorly?”
“No. You finished the fastest out of anyone I’ve tested. You’re also the oldest and have the least interest in this genre of game, it’s just really funny.”
I told him my best friend growing up had consoles but I didn’t. He got to play and practice regularly so he tended to be better than me as a baseline. But. If I won he’d get so furious that he’d turn the console off and we could do what I wanted instead, so I developed an aggressive button mashing technique that has served me well.
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andypantsx3 · 2 days
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Andie do you think Shouto enjoys lingerie?? What about deku and kats? 👀
Ooooooh interesting question. I think I have some controversial takes here!!
Shouto looks all well-mannered and princely and I think he thinks at first that it's just clothing. But the first time he sees you in a cute little set his mind goes a little blank, and the next time he's at a department store he's unable to walk by the lingerie without thinking of you, his face getting warm. You can't wear lingerie around him too often though, because his focus becomes so singular on tearing it off of you; many a set of panties has suffered his enthusiasm.
Deku absolutely has a lingerie thing. Honestly any underthings, doesn't have to be actual fancy cute lingerie. He sees a bra strap and goes red, and it never gets better even when he becomes the number #1 hero and has like, bras flung at him daily. You can reduce him to a puddle of pudding immediately by just pulling down the collar of your shirt to reveal the promise of what you are wearing underneath.
Bakugou does not have a lingerie thing, and this is what I think my most controversial take is lol. I know the Bakugirlies love a sexy Bakugou reacts to your lingerie headcanon, and I think that's fun and valid!!
But to me personally, Bakugou likes whatever you're in, it makes no difference to him. Sometimes even the more functional stuff gets him a little heated, and he likes teasing you about it even though the tips of his own ears are tellingly red. I actually think the more egregious the underwear the more he likes it tbh, like you yank on some spanx on to look snatched under your dress at some event, not planning on letting Bakugou see, and before the evening is even over he's locked you both in some bathroom, mouth pressed to your cunt right through the fabric. 😳😳😳
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lowkeyrobin · 3 days
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HII so I was reading your who you write for and saw you write for Charlie Bushnell, so I was wondering if I could get like reader and Charlie at like the an interview???
Thank you -🍄
hell yeah of course 🙏🙏 ; thank you 🍄anon, hope you enjoy 🫶🫶 ; i dunno how but this got a little off topic?? I apologize
CHARLIE BUSHNELL ; the interview
summary ; youre a journalist, he's an actor
warnings ; language, little cringe kissing scene (totally sfw dw)
disclaimers ; I said "scandalous ankles" because back in the olden days ankles and showing any skin was considered scandalous, for anyone who didn't know. reader is described to be not into fitness stuff, also don't mind me not knowing shit about fitness/weightlifting
word count ; 883
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"Hi, welc-hum inside." You smile, waving to Charlie as he enters the room. You then cringe at yourself in embarrassment. "Sorry, hi, welcome." You awkwardly chuckle, "I apologize, my words are all tangled today"
"You're good" He waves, a comforting smile on his face. He wears a black t-shirt with a logo in the corner and design on the back, paired with some jorts and sneakers like he just came from the gym. You didn't mind though, you urged your guests to come comfortable over casual.
Video interviews that weren't in front of a live crowd were the best for both of you, thank God. Meeting this Godsend of a man nearly gave you a heart attack. Just looking at his gorgeous eyes and his perfect features, nothing was wrong with him whatsoever. He was genuinely a 10/10.
He sits down in the guest chair across from yours, watching you sift through a desk a few feet away, looking for something. Your dress pants rise at the ankles every time you make a step, revealing more of your scandalous ankles, covered by socks.
You finally sit down, apologizing for taking so long to find your notebook where you held a few questions and conversation starters. The cameras begin rolling, and you introduce yourself and Charlie as per usual.
"So, what's it like being on set, with all the cameras, lights, props, and green screens? What are the action scenes like?"
Charlie lightly smiles as he gives you an answer, using his hands to talk a little bit. He seemed a little tense and nervous, but you didn't point it out or blame him, it took you years to be fully comfortable where you sat.
"What even are you? Cause like, you're an interviewer but also a journalist, what do you prefer being called?" The curly haired boy asks you.
You shrug, "Journalist, I guess. Interviewer could be put like, inside the circle of journalism, I'd say. I'm a journalist before I'm an interviewer"
He nods, giving you a gorgeous smile that you had to quickly look away for. You discreetly hide your flushed face, looking down at your notebook.
You write down some memorable quotes as you sit and chat with him, bringing up some interesting conversation and learning more about being on set and the production behind media.
After the cameras are off, you thank him and invite him to stay for some aftertalk and lunch. You came in with a large bowl of taco salad you needed to finish before it went bad and were offering it to anyone who wanted it. He accepts the offer, staying back in the break room with you to eat some of that salad you'd brought in. In his words, it was very much better than whatever fast food he was going to go get before returning home.
Your conversation quickly turns into one regarding music and working out, although you weren't too into fitness, the occasional jog here and there keeping you healthy, apparently.
You both stand up, setting your bowls and forks in the dishwasher to get them cleaned. You stand against the counter as he leans his hand against it a couple feet away.
He pulls up his t-shirt sleeve, flexing his arm to show off his muscles. He's trying to impress you, mostly, but you had asked how frequently he worked out. Not his fault.
"Usually lift about 145"
You nod, paying more attention to his face than his muscles. Not exactly your question, but you'd take it.
"You okay?" He asks, seeing you zoned out staring at him.
"Yeah, sorry-"
"Am I that handsome to you?" He asks, lightly teasing you.
"Wh- I mean, hey now-"
He lightly giggles, stepping forward a bit.
You stare into his brown eyes, colored like a dark chocolate mocha. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, seeing your eyes almost glimmer as they stare into his.
He's just a guy, you're an interviewer, a journalist. This is weird, isn't it? Is it not?
"May I?..." He whispers, looking down at your lips, then up at your eyes.
Triangle Theory.
You nod, a soft smile painting your face.
He quickly embraces your lips with his, hands resting on your waist. You melt into his kiss, your bodies tied together. He picks you up, hands resting behind your thighs, placing you on the counter.
You quickly pull away, hands on his shoulders as he stands between your legs. "Okay, what the fuck? Do that again"
He smiles, looking up at you. His arms are now loosely wrapped around your hips and waist area, his curls falling into place like dominoes.
"You're an interesting one"
"Says you, actor guy"
"Don't try and play me at my own game"
You open your mouth to speak, but shut yourself up, seeing the smug look on his face.
He holds your left hand in his right, a slight panic running through both of your heads as he rubs your knuckles with his thumb.
You speak up now, finding your stomach filled with butterflies.
"You make me want to grab a dictionary and manually find the words I'm looking for to describe you and how attractive that was."
He lightly laughs, kissing your hand.
"Whatever you say, journalist"
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yuutaok · 2 days
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⊹ ‧₊˚✿ Spring Leaves, But I Never Will
Yuuta Okkotsu x Reader
In the eerie mountain forest, you seek to find what is missing. Lost and disoriented, you encounter a mysterious boy with eyes like the dead, his presence is captivating. With a gentle hand, he beckons you, and you follow.
⊹ ‧₊˚✿ Word Count: ~4.4K
⊹ ‧₊˚✿ Content Warnings: 18+ MDNI (Minors Do Not Interact), P in V, AFAB! Reader, prone bone, unprotected sex, creampies, posessiveness, supernatural/paranormal stuff happens, open-ended ending, Reader is lost in a forest and meets Yuuta, Yuuta is a freak
⊹ ‧₊˚✿ Author's note: Hiii I am back with a vengeance. Belated birthday fic for Yuuta ♡ Life exploded me so I never got the chance to finish until now. Also, I would like to thank Sen (@/ banjjakz) for inspiring some of the horror aspects of this <3 They have such a lovely way of writing such mysterious horror that I deeply wanted to try my hand at, so please go read their Yuuta fics bc they are sooooo delicious ok I'll stop swooning now byeeeeee
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Lost amidst the dense, foreboding forests of the mountains, you trudged forward, the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the winding trail. Your heart felt heavy with the weight of recent events, the memory of your painful breakup still fresh in your mind. It had only been a couple of days, of course your heart would still hurt and your hands would still shake. And still, the need to escape, to clear your head and find solace amidst the solitude of nature, had driven you to embark on this day-hike alone.
The townsfolk often whispered about this mountain as a haunt for the heartbroken.
And so, here you were.
The hike was pleasant. You took the time to leisurely look at every interesting formed rock or beautiful sprouting flower that you had stumbled upon. Spring had just begun and it felt nice to be in the calm serenity of nature. You took care to not stray too far from the beaten path but still found your way crunching through the trees to look at specimens that caught your eye. It was a great way to get your mind off of things, to forget about life for just a moment.
But now, as the sky darkened and the woods grew eerily silent around you, regret gnawed at the edges of your resolve. Perhaps venturing into the wilderness alone had been a mistake, a reckless act born of heartache. Panic tightened its grip on your chest as you realized that dusk was fast approaching, and you had yet to find your way back to civilization.
With each step you took through the dense undergrowth of the forest, the sense of urgency weighed heavy on your shoulders. Nervously, you glanced at the sky, watching as the sun dipped lower and lower, casting long shadows that danced ominously through the trees. Hope flickered like a dying flame within you, faltering as the daylight waned faster than anticipated.
Your mind wandered to the rumors that had long circulated about the mountain, tales of heartbroken souls seeking solace among the towering trees, only to vanish without a trace.
It was said that the forest held secrets whispered confessions etched into the bark of the old oak trees, and love letters left behind by those who had come seeking solace from their pain. But these were not ordinary declarations of affection; they were haunting, twisted reflections of despair, each word filled with grief, obsession, and heartbreak. You have heard people say that love is the worst curse of all.
Some claimed to have heard mournful voices echoing through the woods, the ghostly whispers of lovers calling out into the darkness, their cries fading into gusts of wind and rustling leaves. Others spoke of strange symbols carved into the earth, cryptic messages left behind by those who had succumbed to the forest's embrace.
You still had decided to come, despite the unsubstantiated rumors that were whispered by the old grannies in the surrounding town. You’d be damned if you suffocated under the weight of your heartache. But as you delved deeper and deeper into the forest, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched— honestly, maybe the old ladies knew something you didn’t.
Panic clawed at the edges of your mind, threatening to consume you whole. Desperate, you called out into the silent woods, your voice echoing into the vast expanse of darkness that surrounded you, “Hello…? Is anybody out there? Can anyone hear me?”
But the only response was the feeling of eyes on the back of your head and the haunting whisper of the wind through the branches, carrying with it a sense of desolation that chilled you to the bone.
With each passing moment, the forest seemed to close in around you, its shadows stretching like grasping fingers eager to ensnare their prey. You were never quite fond of the dark.
Heart pounding, you broke into a run, stumbling through the underbrush in a frantic search for anything familiar. Each rustle of leaves and snap of twigs beneath your feet sent a jolt of fear coursing through your veins, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you raced against the encroaching darkness.
And then, just as panic threatened to consume you whole, you burst through a thicket of bushes, only to collide with an unexpected figure standing in your path. The air left your lungs as you fell flat on your ass.
You looked up at what, or who, you had just crashed head-on into.
It was a boy, his dark eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity as he regarded you with an enigmatic smile, despite you just pummeling into him with your full force. The shock of the encounter left you speechless, frozen in place as the realization dawned that you were not alone in the woods after all.
You made eye contact with the stranger, and a chill swept through the air, sending a shiver down your spine. His dark hair fell in tousled waves, framing his pale face in an unsettling contrast. His tired eyes bore into you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. A curtain of bangs parted across his forehead, framing his features in a shadowy veil. His lips twisted into a smile and held a hint of something that lurked just beneath the surface.
There was an undeniable aura of unease that surrounded the boy, a sense of foreboding that lingered in the air like a haunting melody. As he extended a hand towards you, offering salvation in the darkness, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something deeply unsettling about him.
"Are you lost?" he asked, his voice low and soothing. "It's dangerous to be out here alone at night. I can lead you to safety."
You looked up at the stranger incredulously, as if you would be dumb enough to follow a stranger you met out in the woods!
Sending your apprehension, the raven-haired boy smiles kindly, “I promise, I don’t bite. Please, it’s getting late and I don’t think I could live with myself if I left you out here by yourself.”
Weighing out your options, you realized that maybe this was your best choice. It’s either that or freezing out in the woods, or better yet being eaten by some wild animal that you hardly can find yourself against.
You looked around, dazed. With darkness closing in around you and no other options in sight, you accepted his offer.
“Alright,” you sighed. “But please don’t try anything, I’ve been told I have a killer right hook.”
He looks at you, obviously amused, “Of course, I’ll be on my best behavior.”
And begrudgingly you had to admit, despite everything in your body screaming for you to keep running, you felt completely and utterly relieved to see him.
As you followed the raven-haired boy deeper into the woods, the sense of unease only intensified, wrapping around you like a suffocating cloak. "Where are we going?" you finally asked, your voice trembling slightly with apprehension.
His dark eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion as he turned to face you, his expression guarded yet strangely calm. "To my cabin," he replied, his voice low and steady. "It's not far from here. You'll be safe there for the night. You can rest for as long as you need to."
Though his words offered reassurance, there was a lingering doubt in the back of your mind. You had heard stories of people disappearing in these woods, never to be seen again, and the thought sent a chill down your spine.
There was something about the dark-haired man that unsettled you, something that whispered of hidden dangers lurking beneath his calm exterior. And even so, something about him drew you in, made you feel so immediately safe with him.
"Who are you?" you pressed, your voice wavering with a mix of fear and curiosity. "And why were you out here alone?"
Yuuta hesitated for a moment as if weighing his words carefully. "My name is Yuuta Okkotsu," he said finally, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "I live in the woods, away from civilization. As for why I was out here...let's just say I have my reasons."
His cryptic response only fueled your apprehension, but as the darkness closed in around you and the sound of rustling leaves filled the air, you realized that you had little choice but to trust him, at least for now. With a nod of reluctant acceptance, you followed Yuuta deeper into the woods, praying that you had not just made a grave mistake.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
His cabin appeared suddenly, a rustic structure nestled amidst the towering trees, its windows glowing with the warm light of a fire within.
"I don't usually invite strangers into my home," Yuuta admitted, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of curiosity and something you couldn’t quite place your finger on. "But I can't leave you out here alone. You're welcome to stay until morning." Though grateful for his offer of shelter, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you like a shroud.
There was something about Yuuta's demeanor, a subtle intensity in his gaze, that sent shivers down your spine.
You stepped into Yuuta's cabin, grateful for the warmth and shelter it offered. The cozy interior enveloped you in a comforting embrace, dispelling some of the tension that had gripped you since your encounter in the woods. It was humorous actually, how warm the cabin felt in comparison to the uneasiness its owner gave you.
“Home sweet home,” Yuuta said as he took your coat and nodded his head for you to follow him.
Yuuta wasted no time in playing the role of a gracious host, offering you a change of clothes and access to his shower. His bathroom was neat, he didn’t have much, just the basics, but it was still appreciated nonetheless.
As the hot water washed away the dirt and grime of the forest, you felt a sense of relaxation seeping into your bones, soothing the frayed edges of your nerves.
Emerging from the shower feeling refreshed and revitalized. You found Yuuta busy in the kitchen, a delicious aroma of spices and savory delights wafting through the air.
As you peered over his shoulder, you caught a glimpse of the bubbling pot on the stove, filled with rich, fragrant curry. The sight stirred memories of comforting meals shared with loved ones, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. "That smells amazing," you murmured, your mouth watering at the thought of indulging in the hearty dish.
Yuuta glanced up from his cooking, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's just a simple curry," he said modestly, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. "But I find that simple comforts are often the most satisfying."
You offered to help, eager to contribute to the meal in some way, but Yuuta shook his head gently. "No need to trouble yourself," he insisted, his gaze softening as he gestured for you to take a seat at the table. "Relax and settle down. I'll take care of everything."
Though you hesitated for a moment, the warmth of Yuuta's demeanor and the promise of a delicious meal were too enticing to resist. With a grateful smile, you sank into a chair, content to watch as Yuuta worked his culinary magic, the comforting rhythm of his movements lulling you into a sense of peace and contentment.
As you settled into Yuuta's cabin, you couldn't help but take in your surroundings with a sense of curiosity. The interior was simple yet cozy, with polished wooden floors that creaked softly underfoot and walls adorned with faded photographs and intricate tapestries.
The cabin had a rustic charm to it, its bare furnishings lending an air of simplicity to the space. Yet, despite its minimalistic design, everything seemed meticulously arranged, each item in its rightful place. There was a sense of order and precision that spoke to Yuuta's meticulous nature, a trait that you found oddly comforting.
On the shelves lining the walls, you noticed an eclectic array of books, their well-worn spines bearing the marks of countless readings. From classic literature to obscure texts on folklore and mysticism, the collection spoke of a curious mind.
Nearby, a shelf displayed a collection of handmade erasers, their vibrant colors and whimsical shapes. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of these charming little creatures. There was a sense of warmth and homeliness to Yuuta's cabin that made you feel strangely at ease. It was as if the space itself radiated a sense of comfort and belonging, welcoming you with open arms into its cozy embrace.
Before you knew it, the food was done and Yuuta served you a steaming plate.
“Thank you for the meal,” you said, nervous.
“It’s my pleasure,” Yuuta replied.
With the two of you sitting down to eat, you found yourself opening up to Yuuta in a way you hadn't expected. You told him about your recent breakup, the pain and heartache that had driven you to seek solace in the wilderness.
Yuuta listened attentively, his dark eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that surprised you. "It's dangerous to be out in the woods alone," he said softly, his voice tinged with a note of concern. "Who knows what evils could be lurking in the darkness? I'm glad I found you when I did." A chill ran down your spine.
Though he had shown you nothing but kindness, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling of anxiety that crept up around Yuuta's presence. He was good company, however, and you worked hard to ignore the way your hands clammed up and each hair on your skin stood up when he leaned in closer to speak with you. You chalked it up to your nerves.
The two of you continued to converse, him asking you more about your life and you asking about his. As Yuuta shared snippets of his past, you found yourself drawn to him in a way you couldn't quite explain. There was a sort of charm to him, an undeniable allure. Despite the lingering doubts that were dancing in the back of your mind, you couldn't deny the attraction you had towards him. You felt like a moth catching fire as it approached an open flame.
With a sigh, Yuuta leaned back against the cushions, his gaze drifting to the dancing flames of his fireplace as if lost in thought. "You know," he begins, his voice a low, melodic murmur that sends shivers down your spine, "I wasn't always a hermit living in the woods." His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken sorrow.
"What happened?" you ventured softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, to not disturb the mood.
Yuuta's gaze flickered to yours, a hint of sadness lurking in the depths of his dark eyes. "I used to live in the city, surrounded by noise and chaos," he admitted, his words tinged with bitterness. "But... I lost someone very dear to me." His voice trailed off, grief etched into the lines of his face.
"She was my childhood sweetheart," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper as if speaking the words aloud pains him. "We were inseparable, bound together by pure, untainted, love.”
A heavy silence fell between you, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the wind outside. "She was taken from me," Yuuta murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "And I... I couldn't bear to stay in that world any longer."
As he spoke, you sensed the weight of his sorrow pressing down on him, a burden too heavy for one mere person to bear alone. "I tried to move on, to forget her and the pain of losing her," Yuuta admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "But no matter how hard I tried, I could never escape the memories of our time together."
“So I left," he confessed, "I left everything behind and retreated into the solitude of the forest, hoping to find something to fill the hole in my heart.”
His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his sorrow, and you could not help but feel a surge of empathy for the man before you. At that moment, you realize that Yuuta and you are not so different after all, both haunted by heartbreak, seeking solace in the expanse of trees. In his eyes, you saw a reflection of your desires, a longing for connection and understanding.
But even as your heart yearned to unravel the secrets hidden within Yuuta’s dark and mangled heart, a sense of unease lingered at the edges of your consciousness. There was still something unsettling about the way the shadows seemed to dance around him, as if alive with an energy of their own. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on…
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
As the night stretched on, the air thick with a palpable tension, you felt a strange sense of drowsiness wash over you. Your eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion as you let out a quiet yawn.
With a soft smile, Yuuta reached out to you. His was touch gentle, yet firm, possessive even. You felt yourself lean into his touch as if he weaved an invisible spell around you.
"You look tired," he murmured, his voice a soothing melody that seemed to echo with the whispers of the forest itself. "Come with me, let me take care of you."
His words washed over you like a warm embrace, dispelling the last glimmers of doubt and fear as you allow yourself to be guided by his steady hand. With a silent nod, you allowed Yuuta to lead you to the bedroom, the warmth of his presence enveloping you like a protective shield as you sank into the soft embrace of the bed.
The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting shadows across the walls like dancing spirits. He leaned over you, his body flush against yours, his hand steady and reassuring against your skin.
As you lay there, the haze of drowsiness clouding your senses, you felt Yuuta begin to pull away. You grasped at the hem of his shirt, silently begging him not to go.
His features were veiled by the shroud of night, his smile, though unseen, seemed to materialize in the darkness. With a gentle pull, you drew him down to lay beside you.
"Do you want me to stay?" Yuuta's voice, a soft murmur, caressed your ear as his head nestled against your shoulder.
"Yes," you found yourself pleading, the words slipping from your lips in a whispered plea. "Don't leave."
Yuuta's lips brushed gently against your neck, his touch tender yet possessive. "I won’t,” he murmured, “I won’t ever leave,” his voice a velvet whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,”
In your sleepy state, you found yourself melting into his touch. Yuuta's kisses trailed a path of fire along your skin. Each kiss was a feather-light caress that seeped into each layer of your skin, burning you from the inside out.
Slowly, he moved up your neck, his lips leaving a trail of warmth in their wake as he explored every inch of your skin with adoration.
As Yuuta's lips found their way to your jaw, you felt yourself melting into his embrace, lost in the dizzying whirlwind that you now understood as Yuuta Okkotsu.
His movements were calm and deliberate, his touch gentle yet commanding as he explored every curve and contour of your body with dedicated devotion. Each touch left you yearning for more. You would die if it meant you could feel this loved forever.
Soon enough, Yuuta’s lips found yours, his kisses both tender and possessive, his passion evident in the way he claimed your lips.
As his lips danced with yours, you found yourself with the thought of never being apart from him. It filled you with a sense of completion. You could feel the depth of his devotion. Could he feel yours?
As if to answer your question, Yuuta’s touch became more urgent, his hands roaming over your body with a ravenous hunger. You felt happy that you could be consumed so ardently, that you found yourself secretly hoping that you at least tasted good.
Breaking out of your thoughts, you realized Yuuta was removing your borrowed clothes bit by bit. He made sure you were left in your panties.
His strong hands moved to caress your bare skin, his fingers leaving imprints on your body. Yuuta’s nails and grip dug into your skin as he kissed you. His hands moved to explore every curve and contour of your body with a reverence that bordered on worship. You wondered if he was trying to memorize every inch of you.
You leaned up to deepen the kiss, which only furthered Yuuta’s excitement. His lips moved hungrily against yours, his touch seeming eager, desperate, or perhaps so incredibly lonely, even.
Yuuta’s wet kisses left you dizzy, your senses were overwhelmed by him. Noticing the strain between his legs, you reached your hands down to unbutton his pants & paw at his boxers. Yuuta obliged by tossing them off to the side with your lost articles of clothing.
You moved to guide his hips to meet yours. With him between your legs, you moved to grind against him. You both gasped as his hard member pressed against your soaked panties.
You look up to see his reaction but notice something in Yuuta’s eyes become dark. His grip on your hips became tighter as his nails dug crescents into your soft skin.
Yuuta took this moment to grind himself deeper into you, his cock sliding between the lips of your pussy soaked panties. You let out a wanton moan, grinding back against him, desperate for any form of friction or release. You felt his cock rub against your swollen clit, moving back and forth in a way that left you crying out for more.
As Yuuta continued to tease you, he paused for a moment, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke in a low voice, "Do you want this?”
You shivered, a chill running down your spine.
With a hitched breath, you nodded.
“Will you be mine?" He asked, his eyes peering deep and dark into your own. You felt like he could see right into you like he was clawing his way into your soul to make a home in it.
You were okay with that.
You nodded again, “Yes, I’ll always be yours.”
With a glassy darkness in his eyes, he flipped you over onto your stomach, his movements rough and commanding as he positioned himself behind you. He tsk’ed as he ripped your ruined panties off, throwing off into the darkness of the room.
Well, you didn’t need those, anyway.
You could feel the heat of his breath against your ear as he whispered, “I’ll make it so you can’t ever think to leave,” sending shivers down your spine.
Yuuta trailed hot kisses along your skin as he positioned himself above you. With a low moan, he pressed himself against you, the throbbing hardness of his member seeking entrance to your dripping heat.
And then, with a thrust, he entered you. Yuuta’s hands gripped your ass as he slowly sunk his hard length into your wet core. You sucked in a breath, a wave of pleasure crashing over you as he filled your pussy completely. He was big. So much bigger than you anticipated.
‘We fit together perfectly’, you thought to yourself.
His pace was slow, with him getting used to the tightness of your cunt. You looked up at him with adoration as he leaned over your shoulder to give you a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. A trail of saliva left between your lips when you parted.
Yuuta’s spent no extra moment finding his stride, his movements becoming rough and unyielding as he fucks you with such devoted reverence. You’re helpless. All you could do was beg for more as you gulped in the air.
It’s obscene, the way he makes you moan. You’re powerless to fight against the way he makes your heart skip and your stomach churn. You feel on fire like he’s burning you to a crisp of ash and dust only to resurrect you again if only to just keep fucking you.
Yuuta’s movements become more urgent and the tension between you reaches its peak. With each thrust, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, your senses overwhelmed by Yuuta.
Suddenly, you feel a surge of pleasure coursing through your veins, your body convulsing with the intensity of your release. With a cry, you shatter into a million pieces, the only thing able to leave your mouth is the chant of, “Yuuta-- Ah, Yuuta, Yuuta.”
“I’m here,” he replies, voice strained feeling your pussy tighten around his cock, “I’m right here.” Feeling the wetness and tightness of your cum triggers Yuuta’s climax, and with a stifled moan, he follows suit, pouring his hot cum into you.
Yuuta pulls you into his arms, his leaky cock still hard inside of you. Your dark-haired lover kisses your temple and leaves sweet whispers across the sweat of your skin. He holds you close, entwining you into him as your eyelids get heavy and you feel sleep take over your spent body.
You feel loved.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
In your dreams, you find yourself lost in a labyrinth of shadows, the air thick with the scent of decay. Whispers echo through the darkness, taunting you with half-formed promises and cryptic warnings.
You stumble through the endless maze, searching for an escape, but the shadows seem to shift and twist, leading you further into the depths of your despair.
And then, just when you think you can bear it no longer, you see him. Yuuta stands before you, his dark eyes looking into yours as he reaches out to you with a hand shrouded in darkness.
He whispers something, you don’t understand. But you still reach out, taking his hand into yours.
You awaken with a start, the echoes of your nightmare still lingering in the recesses of your mind.
Heart pounding, you sit up in bed, the room bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains.
Yuuta is gone, but his warmth remains.
A sense of foreboding settles over you like a shroud.
228 notes · View notes
cryptotheism · 2 days
Note
You've talked before about how hermeticism is often used as a "glue" to combine theology with science. Where is the connection between science and hermeticism exactly? I've read the CH and some secondary sources about it, and hermeticism always just seemed to me like another flavor of hellenic neoplatonic "control your desires to ascend" stuff, and not directly related to science or magic
Oh good question!
I usually say it's the glue between theology and science as a primer for the more correct version: it's the glue between theology and Natural Philosophy.
Like, the neoplatonists were interest in reconciling platonic formalism and Aristotle, but they didn't talk much about the nature of the physical world. The neoplatonists were interested in how god became the physical world. The hermetics were interested in what the physical world's design implied about god, and how to possibly shed physicality so you could go hang out with god.
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iamnotoriginalphil · 2 days
Text
Roommates? (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)
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Synopsis: You move into Mel's spare room
Words: 3.6k
Warnings: praise kink if you squint, swearing, mentions of alcohol
AN: Written after 3x07.
You groaned as you dropped into your seat in the break room, not hungry for the lunch you’d packed for yourself. Burying your head in your hands, you did your best to try not to think about the email you’d just received. It was hard when your stress was becoming all encompassing after weeks of it.
“What going on with you?”
You groaned again, even when you felt the brush of an arm against yours. The floral scent you’d grown accustomed to over the last few years wafted towards you. Melissa. Your closest friend at the school, and the person you’d been pining after for so long you’d lost any self respect you might have had.
“That place I was going to move into fell through,” you said, “I feel like I’ve seen every spare room in this city and there is no where to live.”
You peeked at her from between your fingers, hating to sound so whiny but knowing that your stress levels had reached breaking point. She was looking at you with a raised eyebrow and an incredulous look. You sighed, sitting up properly under her watchful gaze.
“You know Jacob’s looking for a place too,” Gregory said from the other table.
“I know,” you groaned, “he suggested we look for a place together and I can’t commit to living and working with that man. He once tried to rap at me about the Martin Luther King Jr and I can’t have that in my home.”
“I get that,” Gregory replied, “why are you even looking for a new place to live? Your place is nice.”
“My roommate keeps watching me when I sleep. Sometimes I wake up and she’s standing at the end of my bed just staring at me. It freaks me out.”
“Well hey, I’m thinking of renting out my spare room. Would you be interested, hon?”
You hadn’t expected Melissa to say that.
“Really?”
She gave you one of those small smiles that you’d never seen her give another person. Your heart fluttered and you found your cheeks heating up.
“Really,” she said, “you can pay rent, right?”
“Yeah, of course,” you replied.
“You can move in this weekend,” she said.
Come Saturday, your things were in boxes and bags, and you had a spring in your step. You were humming to yourself as you packed up your car, your entire life filling the seats and the trunk. You took one last look at the building, sighed, then got in your car and drove to the next chapter of your life.
It wasn’t until you were standing in front of the door that the reality of what you were about to do crashed into you. Living with Melissa. Being in her space all the time. Existing in close proximity. She was going to see you first thing in the morning. You were going to see her late at night.
Your crush was going to either get so much worse or dissipate when you saw all of her annoying habits.
The door opened before you could knock, revealing the red head who starred in so many of your dreams. You blinked, rearing back, not having expected her to suddenly appear. Her lips quirked up, hand snapping out to grasp you around the elbow before you could fall backwards.
“Were you planning on knocking or do you wanna live on my front step?” she asked.
“ I was… just about to… can you help with my boxes?” you asked instead, switching tracks without having to explain yourself.
“Sure, hon,” she chuckled, slipping past you.
Watching her lift your heavy boxes set off something primal in you. You followed behind her, your own arms full of your stuff. She led you up the stairs and into her spare bedroom, placing the boxes down on the made up bed.
“Well, here you are. Bed, dresser, the bathroom is down the hall. You can have a a shelf in the fridge. Your key is just there. Let me know if you need anything else,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“Do you need help with the rest of your stuff?” she asked.
“Only if you want to. I can do it myself. It’s no bother.” You had no idea why you were saying no. You felt flustered. You always felt a bit flustered around her.
“Come on, hon,” she said, giving you an indulgent smile, “the sooner we start the sooner we’ll be done.”
She left you alone after pttling the last of the boxes into your room, leaving you to unpack and settle in. Sorting your clothes into colours helped to ease your thoughts, the mindless work turning your head empty. It calmed you, getting your life in order so you could get your thoughts in order.
It wasn’t going to be so bad living with Melissa. She was being nice to you which was more than Jacob or Janine had been able to say after their cooking lesson with her. Accommodating was the word. She was almost going out of her way to be nice.
And most importantly you could keep your crush to yourself without ruining it all.
That night, she made dinner, offering you some and then curled up on the couch with a glass of wine. You were hesitant about joining her, hovering until she rolled her eyes and tugged you to sit beside her.
But it was easy to fall into a routine with her. Surprisingly easy. So easy that you didn’t even notice until a few weeks in.
Sitting at the table on a Wednesday night, doing the puzzle you’d started over the weekend, you listened to her hum in the kitchen. Something was bubbling on the stove top, the smell mouth watering. You looked up as fingers pushed a piece towards you.
“Thanks,” you said, looking up at her.
She was already smiling at you and you couldn’t help but smile back. It was an instinctual response. You couldn’t help it when it came to Mel.
“You hungry?” she asked.
“Always,” you replied, knowing it was the answer she wanted.
“C’mon then, hon, make some room. Can’t have you starving before you finish that patch of sky,” she said.
“You’re teasing but I saw you get excited when you finished the boat,” you said, clearing your pieces away from one end of the table.
Sitting across from her, the lights soft and warm, there was always something a little romantic to the feeling. Of course, you were sure it was all in your head but you couldn’t help but enjoy it, just a little, more than you should. She would look at you, those twinkling green eyes making you flush, and her smile had butterflies erupting in your stomach.
Still, every night felt like domestic bliss. Coming home with her, in the bubble of her house, the quiet night pressing in on the window, it was the kind of life you hadn’t known you’d been missing.
“You’re a goddess in the kitchen,” you said.
She’d waited for you to try her food, just as she always did before beginning to eat her own meal. Her foot brushed against yours under the table, making you jump. She chuckled, doing it again and you felt your cheeks heat and your heart stumble over itself.
Some days it almost felt like she was flirting with you.
“You’re sweet, hon,” she said.
You found your foot brushing against hers again, emboldened by her bashful response. Those green eyes flicked up to you, something twinkling in their depths. You weren’t sure how you looked but you were worried you’d shown your hand to her.
Dropping your foot back to the floor, you averted your gaze down to the plate of pasta she’d laid down in front of you. Her foot nudged yours before resting against it, length to length, the warmth of her skin seeping into yours.
She kept silent the rest of the meal, following your lead. You weren’t sure you could say anything, not with her foot against yours. Certainly not if she was watching you.
You remained silent as you cleared the table once she was done. Standing shoulder to shoulder at the sink, you did the washing up together, working in companionable tandem. You were so in tune with one another after living together for those few weeks, working together came without flaws.
“Are you gonna be watching our show tonight?” she asked into the silence.
You didn’t say no.
Sitting beside her on the sofa had always been trouble for you. Shoulder to shoulder, lit by nothing but the flickering screen, sharing a bowl of popcorn until your hands brushed together, it had always been a specific type of torture for you. The air always felt electric to you, and you knew it didn’t for her.
Except this night her head fell to your shoulder and her body curled towards yours. You froze until she admonished you, doing your best to relax your muscles. And there you stayed until she went to bed, feeling as if you had entered some kind of parallel universe.
Thursday night you’d put the entire odd experience behind you. She hadn’t mentioned it over breakfast or on the car ride over to school. On the ride back home she’d sung along to the radio, keeping her hands and feet to herself. You’d thought it was done. You thought you wouldn’t be tortured anymore.
But after you’d changed out of your school clothes and into something more comfortable, a knock sounded on your door. Opening the door, you found her in the hall, wet hair clinging to the skin of her neck, a towel wrapped around her body. You stumbled back a step, blinking at the vision before you.
“Um…” was all you managed to say.
“Have you seen my Eagles hoodie?” she asked.
“No,” you replied faintly, doing your best to not let your eyes wander further south than her chin.
“You sure? Because I can’t find it,” she said.
“Did you check in the washing?” you asked, hoping that would send her away.
“I thought you mighta borrowed it,” she said, lips tipping up into a small smirk, “you always seem to like it when I wear it. Can’t keep your hands off me.”
You felt your cheeks heat even further, deeper, almost uncomfortably. You looked down at your feet, terrified to be caught staring at her. You didn’t need to come across as a creep to her, ruining your friendship completely and irrevocably.
“I’m just teasing, hon,” she said, shoving your shoulder, “it’s probably in the wash.”
You were left staring at her retreating back as she left you be with your swirling thoughts and thundering heart, breathless from the image of all that skin on display. You were slow to close your door, leaning back against it as you breathed out a long sigh. Pressing a hand to your chest, you could feel the beating of your heart against your skin, practically bursting from your body.
The after image of her in the towel stayed in your mind until you could bring yourself to venture downstairs.
She was standing at the hob, stirring something on the stove, dressed in the familiar grey hoodie she’d been looking for. You blinked then stepped further in. She turned, smiling at you over her shoulder.
“Wanna help me out here?” she asked, seeming not bothered by the interaction upstairs.
“Sure,” you said, wanting to move past it too. Clearly, it hadn’t effected her the way it had effected you.
“Can you keep stirring this for me? I gotta start on the chopping,” she said.
“Sure,” you said again.
Your fingers brushed over hers as you took the wooden spoon from her. She paused a moment, eyes roving over your face. You held your breath, frozen, waiting, wondering what she was thinking.
“Keep stirring, hon,” she whispered, hand guiding yours, the skin of her palm warm against yours.
Slipping away, you kept your eyes on the pot, not wanting her to see the way you were beginning to come undone. One day you could brush off as weird, two made you wonder what was going on.
A warm hand landed on your hip, practically burning through the fabric of your leggings. A soft chin rested on your shoulder, looking over you as you continued stirring. You didn’t know what to do but keep stirring. If you focused on the warmth and the soft body brushing against your back you might melt into a puddle of goo.
“Good job, hon,” she murmured, lips brushing your earlobe.
A small squeak came from your parted lips and her throaty chuckle only made you feel as if you were crumbling in her arms. Those hands on your hips gently pushed you out of the way, fingers plucking the spoon from your hand.
“Go on, go finish that patch of sky. I can finish up here,” she said, sounding as if she had no idea the turmoil she was causing you.
You simply nodded and wandered back to the dining table. You sat, staring at the pieces, trying to reel your thoughts back in. A finger absently ran along the sides of the puzzle, feeling the gaps for the missing pieces. It wasn’t that Melissa wasn’t tactile, sometimes she could be, but this whole thing was something more. A step further.
A little closer to the kind of relationship you wanted with her.
That night she curled up against you again, cheek resting on your shoulder in the flickering light of the tv, hand resting on the thigh hers was resting against. You spent the entire time holding your breath until she slipped away to her room.
Friday left you on tenterhooks. Once again she was normal right up until your return home after a day at school. You were considering retreating into your room and not emerging for the rest of the night. It felt as if she was playing a game with you and you hadn’t been informed of the rules.
And yet you kind of revelled in the attention, if only because it might be your only chance to pretend she wanted you the way you wanted her.
You weren’t given the chance to make the choice for yourself.
A knock on the sounded on your bedroom door once again. You flung on a shirt, covering up as best you could while in the middle of changing out of your work clothes. Pulling open the door, you looked down, finding yourself in one of the lacy camisoles you’d been trying on last weekend when going out with friends for a drink. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, trying to contain the groan you wanted to release. When you opened your eyes it was to find a smirk and sparkling green eyes turned in your direction.
“I was coming to offer you a glass of wine but it looks like you might be going out,” she said.
Her eyes swept down your body and if you were a betting person, you thought her gaze might have lingered on the cleavage on display. You found your back arching, just a moment, until her eyes swept back to yours and her smirk only deepened.
“Come on down, hon. You ain’t going anywhere in those sweat pants,” she said.
“I’ll take that wine,” you said, needing to drown your embarrassment in something.
You trailed behind her down the stairs into the kitchen. It truly was the heart of the home in Melissa’s house. You hoisted yourself onto a bench as she poured the wine. As she’d pointed out, there was no chance you were about to head out in the sweats you were wearing, even if the lacy cami on the top was more dressed up than was normal for slouching around the house on a Friday night.
When she turned back around, her eyes seemed to light up. She sauntered towards you, both hands holding glasses of red wine. Offering you one, she drew closer. You took a deep drink, needing it more and more as she took another step closer to you. Her thumb came up, running along your lower lip, wiping away a drop of wine before she sucked it into her mouth, maintaining eye contact with you.
“Mel.” You felt as if you’d woken up into a dream, breathless and unsure of what you could do.
“Yes, hon?” Her voice had turned so husky you weren’t sure you were existing in real life anymore.
When you didn’t reply she took one last step forward, right between your thighs. One hand ran up your leg making fire lick through your veins and your cheeks heat under her gaze. Her lips ticked up into a smirk again, seeming to enjoy the trouble you were having at forming a sentence.
“What are you doing?” you finally managed to get out in a whisper.
“Aren’t you enjoying it?” she asked.
“I don’t…” It came out strangled, “Mel, please.”
“I’m trying to seduce you, hon,” she said, “is it working?”
You nodded, not sure you were capable of forming words. Just the thought she was trying to seduce was enough to send you into a coma. You hadn’t thought she would ever look at you the way you looked at her.
“C’mon, hon. You can do better than that. Say it.”
“It’s working,” you whispered, not sure you could deny her anything in this moment.
“Good girl.”
She drew ever closer, breath ghosting over your lips. You froze, eyes fluttering shut, waiting to see what she was going to do. A brush of lips, a soft sigh, fingers clenching around your thigh. You barely had the chance to enjoy it before she was stepping back from you. The whimper that came from you was embarrassing but the look on her face when you opened your eyes was smug.
“Mel,” you said again, not sure there were any words other than her anymore.
“Do you know the hell you’ve put me through since moving in? You’re so fucking hot and I don’t think you even know it. You’re the exact woman my Nonna warned my cousin Vinny about,” she said, almost groaning.
“I haven’t been doing anything,” you said, addressing the only thing you could.
“Parading around in your tight leggings and these little tops and those fucking shorts in the morning. And when you’re thinking about something your tongue pokes out and then all I can think about is reaching over and kissing you. Also did you know you hum to yourself when you think no one’s around. Fuck, when I see you in the kitchen humming and dancing I just want to pin you to the closest surface and fuck you until you can’t do anything but say my name.”
You weren’t sure you had a good response.
“Yeah but you wear tight trousers pretty much every day at work,” was your only come back.
“But you weren’t looking at me in them and thinking what it would feel like to have my legs wrapped around you,” she replied as if it was the most natural answer in the world.
“I fucking was,” you snapped, at the end of your rope. She’d been playing with you long enough, “christ sake, Mel. I’ve been thinking about you since the first time we met. You’re literally the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen. I didn’t think you were interested.”
“Hon, I let you move into my house. What part of that says I’m not interested?” she demanded.
“I don’t know,” you said, sounding angrier than you expected, “you might have just been trying to be a good friend.”
“Then let me be very clear.” She took a step back between your legs again, “I am very interested in you.”
You legs tightened around her hips, holding her in place as you lent forward. Your lips ghosted over hers and you were surprised by the noise that came from her. It was whiny and needy and she was straining towards you. You chuckled, drawing back.
“If you plan on seducing me, I expect to be wined and dined,” you said, “no more fooling around until you put some effort in and prove I’m worth it.”
“You fucking brat,” she laughed, a hand curling around the back of your neck to pull you closer.
She kissed you deeply, tongue licking into your mouth, sending your thoughts spiralling away from you. Your knees tightened on her hips, your hands cupping her cheeks, indulging her for long enough to let her think she’d gotten her way. You nipped at her lower lip before drawing away.
“Wining and dining, Mel. I’m not some common whore,” you said, “I deserve romance.”
“There’s your wine,” she said, shoving the glass back into your hands, “I’ll make a start on dinner.”
You bit down on your lip, watching her slam down a knife on the cutting board, grumbling under her breath, trying to hold in a grin. The glare she gave you broke the flood gates as giggles tumbled from your lips.
“You keep on like this and I’ll stop seducing you,” she threatened.
“You stop and I’ll wear those shorts you like all weekend,” you retaliated.
You caught her arm, drawing her in for another kiss, just enough to remind her what was waiting. She softened, gently squeezing your leg before going back to cooking. You watched her, finding yourself falling more and more for her, the anticipation delicious, the woman beautiful.
And maybe moving into her home was the best thing to ever happen to you.
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deerspherestudios · 2 days
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Hellow!~ I just want to mention something a lil detail that I love about Myachel (not only the VN and the story cuz aa just drive me crazy <3 ) but is his Nose! I Love that he has no ''aesthetically pleasing'' looking one, he has an Upturned nose wich sadly in the world of fashion is not considered 'pleasing' but he is Breaking it ! Myachel is so handsome and without following any beauty standard wich makes him feel more real (in a way) <3 Sure sure he is a type of Myconid and stuff but like his design is still humaine. Im happy to see artists giving more variety to small but iconic details such as the nose and hope these would inspire others to try it and not being scared of drawing them :DD (im just tired of seeing the anime dot noses or plain Nothing ^^; ) Ok and for the question: I bet Myachel has seen other places of the world in books from the library, Does he wishes to visit one or more of them? like Beach, Mountain, Desert, Or maybe a city?
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Aw this is so wholesome 😭😭❤️! Sometimes I do feel like his sprites aren't the most conventionally attractive when it comes to visual novel love interests, but I wanted to keep them authentic in that; not everyone is gonna find him attractive! And that's okay!
In fact I find it super interesting when people talk about others not liking his design, it really serves the whole 'ugly monster' narrative some merit haha! So thank you for sharing your thoughts on his little nose, I'm sure he'd be happy to let you boop it.
As for locations he'd love to visit, he's actually been to a few places! Beaches, mountains, maybe not the desert though, but he's definitely been to cities! He'd love to visit a fun fair though but the crowds and loud attractions/rides make him nervous. 💔
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shotmrmiller · 2 days
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oh my god I NEED MORE BABYDADDY!MECHANIC SIMON IM BARKING LIKE A DOG WOOF
he's a baby daddy first, that maybe purposefully baby traps you because you were starting to pick up on his insanity and it's guaranteed you'd leave him and so he figured you can't-- or better yet-- won't if you're pregnant because you also grew up in a fatherless home, watching mama struggle to make ends meet.
babies don't make a marriage but it makes a family and it's hard to not love how overprotective he usually is now that your hormones are all over the place.
he retires, probably forced to because there's a ringing in his head that is starting to throw him off kilter, and he started having ibuprofen for breakfast instead of toast. "go back to your family, simon, your duty is done," price had said. he'd been so furious that he had taken his english equivalent to the dd-214 and fucking booked it without a goodbye.
spent weeks on the road, with the stars above his helmet and the moon as his only companion until the treads on his tires practically disappeared altogether. along the way, he had to get his bike fixed and the prices had his wallet screaming for mercy, so he decided to start fixing his own stuff.
comes home when the tod is walking and packs y'all up cuz there's a beautiful, quiet town he drove past during his manic episode. "you and the kid will like it there, swear it."
you do until you don't, until simon doesn't want another kid and doesn't want a dog either. "too much crying, the goddamn thing will bark all night." starts spending too much time elbow deep in grease and not enough with the child he practically forced upon you, so you pack your shit and go.
he lets you go too, cuz there's a tracker on your car and your phone. put one in the kid's car seat and inside of your purse. johnny being his psycho best friend keeps an eye on you for him because he's got nothing better to do. ain't no lover of his own because his heart belongs to his job.
it's johnny who tells him that there's someone that's potentially interested in you and the bairn, and the rest is history.
bloody knuckles, missing person, you question him and he's like i sure did, lovie. you can leave me but you'll never be with anyone else 🤷🏻‍♀️
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leonistic · 3 days
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fictional || azul ashengrotto, jade leech, floyd leech
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ask by anon: hi, hi!! can I ask for hcs for octatrio owning a nui of reader? I'm not sure if the reader is a character in a game or if they do exist in twisted wonderland, so whatever works for you :D
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azul ashengrotto
"ahem... i didn't mean for you to see that, [name], please forget about it. what do you mean no, it's cute, and no, i did not have it commissioned. i love you, but not that much. yes, i'm lying, my love, i'm very sorry. no, we will not commission an azul nui please my reputation will go down the drain, please, please, please- okay, since you have your heart set on it. what in the seven are nui dates? we can send our nuis on dates? plan dates like that? i see.... interesting idea! do not mention this to jade and floyd though.
jade leech
"oya? it seems you were going through my stuff if you found that, i made sure to hide it well. it was outside? i see. i'm sorry for insinuating otherwise, sweetheart. i had it commissioned before we started dating, it was meant to be a gift for you, but then floyd mentioned that you had a nui of me, so now we match. we can take the nuis with us when we go hiking next time? what a wonderful idea. you'd like to see if there are people who can help you make hiking clothes for the nuis? even better. we shall all match.
floyd leech
"eh, shrimpy, you found the small shrimpy? it's a nui? cute name for the doll. jade got me this after umigame-kun (trey) told him about this. he heard it from hanadai-kun (cater), it's trending everywhere. jade said it'd be a nice gift for you, but you've been mean and ignoring me lately, so this is a replacement you to squish and go to the mostro lounge with until you're free! haah, you have a me nui? and you didn't tell me because i was at practice? unfair!! i'm going out on dates with [name] nui until i- huh, you got it so we could have nui dates? heheh, why didn't you say so before, then?
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beawhatchumean · 2 days
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BOOM! IT'S FINISHED!!
after so long, it finally done and dusted and ready for public release :3c
LMK SIX EAR MACAQUE SHIMEJI VER 1.0!!
Just click on the big words and ya can download, ye :D
Contains 2 zipfiles: The normal version and less frames version
Read down below for explanations on that
if got any problems launching and stuff, dont be afraid to message me, i'll try to help ya out :>
but as seen in the quick lil poster i made there, it says extra animation + more more info about that underneath the read 👇
from the top,
EXTRA ANIMATION
Same like the SWK Shimeji, this one is has unique frames for each action of the Shimeji. best example is the walk, run, dash actions seen below
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there are other actions that have unique frames like these, you are free to explore them :>
CUSTOM ACTION NAME
There are a few actions renamed in the shimeji code. Here is a guide for what they do:
Take Out Lantern = Mac takes out his lantern and admires it
Create Clone = Shimeji breeding 1
Visit Shadow = Shimeji breeding 2
disclaimer, I plan on making a full action guide list in the future so you can much easier reference what each action does :>, so stay tune when that happens
CUSTOM ACTION
Just like SWK, you may pet the Macaque!! >:3c give the lil bugger all the love he deserves~ (credit to Kilkakon for the original script)
as seen in this gif :3
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Steps to do this action is as followed:
Make the shimeji sit down (any surface is okay, ie work floor/window top)
Move the cursor to the shimeji's head
Make sure it is a hand cursor and not an arrow cursor
Pet away!!
If you want to pick up the shimeji without prompting the pet action, just move the cursor lower until it turns into the arrow icon
NON-SYMMETRICAL SHIMEJI
One more thing that causes this to be my fav Shimeji so far. HE HAS NON-SYMMETRICAL FRAMES. Meaning his black sleeve stay on his left, while yellow stay on his right.
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To do this, Mackie needed much more frames compared to SWK, which might cause him to lag on some devices. Hence why I prepared 2 versions of Mackie here. One with symmetry and one with none
PLEASE DOWNLOAD THE LESS FRAME VERSION TO NOT FRY YOUR PC'S!!
UPDATES WILL HAPPEN!!
just like SWK, this is version 1.0
updates will happen and I am at work working on the next csutom action. But it will not come out anytime soon since it requires me to draw a bunch of more frames again hhhh
BUT DO STAY TUNED >:3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
but for now that will be all for ver. 1.0
many thanks to anyone interested in this project and of course
BIGGEST THANKS TO THOSE THAT HELPED BETA TEST THEM
for privacy reason they shall stay anonymous but
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤ >:3
PLUS EVEN MORE HEARTS!! ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
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sleepyhutcherson · 3 days
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batman!mike schmidt headcannons
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pairing: batman!mike schmidt x gn!reader
tags: pervy!mike (watches you get undressed), jealousy, stalker, overprotective, spit kink, choking, being fucked from behind, inspired by pattinson’s batman — 18+, NSFW
author’s note: mike and pattinson’s bruce >> they are literally the same person (in some ways okay?) also i have smut blurb of batman!mike that i’ll probably post to end off my little batman!mike series <3
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batman!mike who from the moment he sees you become utterly obsessed with you.
batman!mike first saw you when he was dealing with some men that were attempting to rob the diner you were working at. luckily, you weren’t at the register, but you were there. after dealing with the vigilantes, his dark eyes met yours for a brief moment. he stared at you, eyes focused on you and you swore you saw a softness to the brown eyes before he left.
batman!mike who researches everything about you from that day on. of course, he goes home to research you in his cave, getting every ounce of information about you: i mean, he also needs your home address to watch over you, duh!
batman!mike who starts showing up outside the diner you’re working at just to…watch you…to make sure you’re not in any kind of danger.
batman!mike definitely keeps a diary but doesn’t write in it too frequently. but once he encounters you he starts writing in it more — you’re mainly what he writes about.
batman!mike is possessive. he’s not really aware of it, honestly. whenever he sees you on the phone or with someone laughing and smiling a little too much for his liking it ruins his day. like literally. he’ll sulk the rest of the day trying to find out who that person was that was making you laugh and smile so much.
batman!mike who sneaks into your place while you’re working just to look through your stuff. he feels a sense of guilt being in there without your consent…but he just wants to get to know you better! he wants to know what your interests are, what books you’re into, what you write about in your journal, how your room is decorated, etc.
batman!mike wears black eyeshadow (like battinson), it’s smudged and messy but it looks so good on him. his pretty brown eyes complimenting the makeup so well.
batman!mike who watches you undress from your window once you get home from work. it’s not a one time thing either. by now he has your bare body memorised.
batman!mike who huffs and groans while he’s fucking you.
batman!mike who likes to fuck you from behind with his hand gripping onto you hair as he thrusts into you roughly.
batman!mike who will force you to look at him as he fucks you from behind, you turn around and watch as he becomes a groaning mess behind you, he tells you to stick out your tongue out for him to spit in your mouth.
batman!mike who — despite literally showing up at your window to fuck you — will not show his face to you. not yet. meaning he leaves the mask on at first.
batman!mike who makes you suck his fingers. he needs you to coat them with your spit before inserting them inside of you.
batman!mike isn’t really submissive, you probably won’t hear him whine but on those more stressful nights you’ll hear him whimper while he’s burying himself deeper inside of you, his hands wrapped around your neck.
batman!mike who will jerk off to something of yours if he isn’t able to go see you. like it can be anything: underwear, a bracelet of yours — anything.
batman!mike who will stay up late to rewatch playbacks of his day that he recorded through his contacts lenses just to see you. over and over. sometimes he’ll jerk off while he watches.
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taglist: @cancelledkaley @stanheights-boyfriend @jhutch-bf @laurrrelise @joshfutturman @gryffindorsblog @obsessivemuso-withnofriends @helen-on-earth @fallingboba @cassiecasluciluce @maticka — love you guys xx
also idk if it’s just me but i cant tag certain of you that asked to be tagged :( im sorry, if anyone knows why let me know please <3
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